Biltmore Christmas Page 18

  Peggy climbed onto the seat. She held out her hands for the baking dish. Her gaze moved about the back door. Several young men stood off to the side, talking beside the wall.

  He handed her the dish. “Do you want to go alone again today?”

  Her gaze returned to his. Malcolm looked as if he’d like to go. Since they didn’t look too busy, she decided she’d like for him to come with her. “Do you know where the beekeeper lives?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.

  “Then would you mind driving me to his house?” She told herself she asked him to accompany her because she needed a chaperone.

  “Not at all. Let me tell the others where I’m going.”

  Peggy nodded and waited while he ran to the group of young men. The truth was if he attended, she’d have an excuse to leave quickly. After all, when she explained her reaction to bees and that they could never be together, Mark wouldn’t want her around, anyway.

  Malcolm jogged back and pulled himself into the seat beside her. On the way he whistled under his breath, and she thought about how she’d tell Mark there was no future for them. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

  They pulled up in front of a small house with wooden shutters and a porch. An older man came around the cabin with an armload of firewood. He stopped and looked toward them.

  Malcolm set the brake and called out, “Good morning, Mr. Mathers. We’re looking for Mark this morning. Is he still around?”

  The old man looked from Peggy to Malcolm. “Not this morning. He’s moving the hives closer in today. Can I help you?”

  Both men looked to Peggy. She stood to get out of the wagon. From the corner of her eye, she saw the old man looking around for a place to lay the wood. Waving her hand at him, she set the covered dish on the seat. “No need to stop your work, Mr. Mathers. I’ll bring the apple black caps to you, sir.”

  Malcolm jumped from the wagon and hurried to her side to help her down. Once her feet were on the ground, the young man handed the dish to her.

  She turned to face Mr. Mathers. Her thoughts went to Joshua. He’d mentioned early on that his grandfather had told him not to disturb Mark about his reading. She felt an instant dislike for the old man; still, she needed to get the dessert into Mark’s hands.

  He nodded and then led the way up the porch. Opening the screen door with his foot, he shoved through it and indicated for Peggy to follow. Once inside the door, Peggy waited for him to drop the load into the wood box and then extended the apple dish. “Would you please see that Mr. Ludman and his son get this?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You’re Peggy Bradford, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” She continued to hold out the dessert.

  The screen door shut behind Malcolm as he followed them into the house.

  Mr. Mathers rubbed his chin. “Then I think you and I should have a chat, young lady.”

  Peggy looked to Malcolm. He shrugged.

  Mr. Mathers indicated one of the two rockers that rested on each side of a wood burning stove. “I’m harmless, Miss Bradford.”

  He might think he was harmless, but she’d seen firsthand how his words could harm. Hadn’t his words injured Joshua and Mark’s relationship? Joshua had almost gone through life thinking he couldn’t read, all because this old man had told him not to bother his father with his problems. The boy had thought he couldn’t confide in his own father. Yes, words could hurt.

  “Malcolm, why don’t you go water that horse out back? Our talk will be done by the time you return.” The old man dismissed the boy, turning his back on him and sitting down in the other rocker.

  Once Malcolm shut the door behind him, Mr. Mathers turned his attention on Peggy. He indicated the dessert dish that she still held in her lap. “Why did you bring that here, Miss Bradford?”

  Peggy glanced down at the dish. Her respect for elders kept her from telling him it was none of his business. “I …” She stopped. Why did she bring the dish? Hadn’t she realized Mark and Joshua wouldn’t be home at this time of day? Yes.

  She’d planned on leaving the dish and her apologies andheading back to the Biltmore house. It was the coward’s way, and she’d taken it. Not only because she feared getting stung by a wayward bee, but also because she feared her love for Mark would show on her face. Saying good-bye to him and Joshua would have been too hard.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said in a soft voice.

  Peggy looked up and found he’d leaned forward to search her face.

  “Don’t look so shocked. I can see you love Mark. You have to.” His brown eyes looked deeply into hers.

  “I have to?” she asked. “And why is that, Mr. Mathers?”

  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin again. “Mark hasn’t looked at another woman since my Molly died. Both he and Joshua talk about you with respect and a sense of devotion. And there is no denying the heart, Miss Bradford. Yours has fallen in love with my son-in-law.”

  Peggy’s heart expanded then broke. Mr. Mathers had told her what deep down she already knew, that Mark cared for her. “Thanks for letting me know he cares for me, but what makes you think I feel the same way about him?”

  Mr. Mathers nodded. “It’s in your eyes, child.”

  She shook her head in denial. The last thing Peggy wanted was for Mark to know that she loved him and his son very much.

  He leaned toward her and said gently, “What I don’t understand is why you won’t admit it?”

  Peggy scooted away from him and tried to ignore his knowing look. She couldn’t lie and outright say she didn’t care about Mark.

  “Why, Miss Bradford? He’s a good man. He works hard, loves his son, and would make a wonderful husband. So why?” With each word he’d leaned even closer to her.

  In desperation Peggy heard the words squeeze from her tight throat. “Because he’s a beekeeper.”

  Mr. Mathers looked as if she’d slapped him. He moved back into his own seat and admitted, “I don’t understand.”

  A lone tear slipped down her cheeks. Peggy sighed. What would it hurt to tell the old man? “I’m allergic to bees, Mr. Mathers. One sting and I could die.”

  “I see.” He rocked back in his chair.

  Malcolm knocked on the door and then entered the house. “I refilled your horse’s water troughs, Mr. Mathers. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Peggy swiped at her wet cheeks. She hadn’t realized the tears had flowed from her eyes. She took a deep breath and stood to go.

  “No, Malcolm. Thanks for taking care of the animals for me.”

  “Anytime. Miss Bradford, are you ready to go?”

  At her nod, Malcolm turned to leave. She followed him back to the horse and wagon.

  On the porch Peggy realized she still held the apple black caps. She turned back to the old man, who had followed them outside, and handed the baking dish to him. “Would you give this to Mr. Ludman and ask him to return the dish to the Biltmore house when he’s finished with it?”

  She hesitated and then pressed on. “Please tell him I don’t want to see him anymore.”

  Mr. Mathers took the dessert and nodded.

  “Thank you.” Peggy hurried down the steps and allowed Malcolm to help her onto the wagon.

  Mark sighed as he turned from the servants’ entrance. This was the third time in two weeks he’d tried to talk to Peggy. Each time he was told she was not available. Mark had no reason to doubt she was busy. Everyone was preparing for Christmas. He walked back to the wagon, where Frank waited.

  As he took the reins and headed home, his father-in-law said, “So you’re going to let her get away, aren’t you?”

  He took a deep breath. “I can’t make her see me, Frank.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Mark slapped the reins a little too hard across the horse’s back. The little black mare glanced over her shoulder and snorted. “Sorry, old girl.”

  He glanced sideways at his father-in-law.

 
; “Seems to me if you love her, you’ll figure out a way.”

  Mark ignored him. He stared straight ahead. Soft snow-lakes began drifting to the ground. He tugged his collar up and ducked his head deeper inside the warmth of his coat. Christmas would soon be here, and what was he going to do?

  “I heard Mr. Lark is selling his farm on the other side of Asheville.”

  That caught his attention. Mark looked to the old man. He’d sunk deeper into his coat, too. Frank gazed off in the distance as if he’d just been sharing some local gossip.

  Joshua had been talking for weeks about farming, growing crops, and setting up a vegetable-and-fruit stand in the fall. Would they be able to buy the Lark land? “Did you happen to hear how much he wants for the place?”

  “Nope, but I was thinking maybe we could go and check this afternoon, if this snow doesn’t get too deep.”

  Mark nodded. Maybe this was the chance he needed, but then there was his father-in-law to think about. Frank loved the beekeeping business. Mark chewed the inside of his jaw.

  “You know, if we bought the place, I could have a couple of small hives and still harvest honey while you and the boy bring in the fruits and vegetables. Of course someone would need to take care of the cow, chickens, and maybe a couple of pigs.” Frank rubbed his chin as if deep in thought.

  “You wouldn’t mind only having a few hives to take care of?” Mark asked. After all, it was because of his father-in-law that he’d taken the job at Biltmore. Frank had insisted he could help take care of the insects, but the truth of the matter had been that he couldn’t. His mind wanted to, but his body just couldn’t keep up with the amount of work required. Mark had ended up doing the job alone.

  “Of course, I’m getting old, Mark. A couple of hives is about all I can handle. I’ve lived my life the way I wanted to. It’s only fair that you and Josh be able to do the same.” He reached out and patted Mark on the shoulder.

  For the first time in years, Mark felt as if he was no longer being held down by the past. He grinned. “Thank you.”

  Josh would be thrilled with a farm for Christmas. He’dbeen disappointed when Mark had told him that it didn’t look as if he and Peggy would be married by Christmas. This might make him smile again.

  A smile tugged at his lips. Then again if he could get Peggy to agree, they could marry shortly after Christmas and have a farm. A real farm. Doubts entered his mind. Would Peggy enjoy taking care of a cow, chickens, and a couple of pigs? Or was she content to forever cook for others? In a fancy kitchen?

  APPLE BLACK CAPS

  Ingredients:

  1 quart nice apples

  Sugar

  Cloves

  Yellow rind of lemon or orange

  Instructions:

  Pare apples, core without breaking; set side by side in baking dish that will just hold them. Fill centers with sugar, and place two cloves in the top of each one; grate over them the yellow rind of lemon or orange, and put into moderate oven only until tender. Do not let them break apart. As soon as they are tender, turn broiler on and broil until black. Serve either hot or cold.

  A porcelain-lined baking dish, or a gratin pan, is the best dish for cooking the black caps, because either can be set on a clean plate and sent to the table. If the apples have to be removed from the dish in which they were baked, they may be broken, and then the appearance of the dish will be spoiled. The flavor of the dish may be changed by varying the spice.

  Chapter 10

  PEGGY’S CHRISTMAS FRUITCAKE

  Peggy pulled the fruitcakes from the oven. The fragrant smells of candied fruit filled the kitchen. She placed them on a counter and looked about the busy kitchen.

  In a few days, it would be Christmas, and she’d be heading home again. Mama Elsie expected Charity, Selma, and herself. Melissa was already there, helping Mama Elsie bake and decorate. Would Mama Elsie be disappointed that she hadn’t found love at Biltmore like her younger sisters?

  Only she had found love. For days she’d been avoiding Mark. She couldn’t ask him to give up beekeeping for her, and she couldn’t be around bees. So she’d resigned herself to avoid him. Then after Christmas she’d return to the Reynolds family, and life would go on. An empty life.

  She swiped at the tears that came unbidden.

  “Miss Bradford.”

  Peggy’s spine straightened. Chef McConnell stood behind her. She wiped her eyes and then turned to face him. “Yes, sir?”

  “A word, please.” He spun on his heel and headed down the hallway.

  She followed, expecting the worst. Would he dismiss her? Why couldn’t the tears only come in the privacy of her room? He led Peggy into the servants’ sitting room. Her gaze moved about the empty room. Thankfully no one would witness her reprimand. He indicated a chair and after she sat, he took the other one across from her.

  “Normally I wouldn’t get involved, but this time I feel I need to. Christmas, Jesus’ birth, should be a time of joy, yet I can see you are hurting and full of grief,” he said.

  Peggy opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, but he raised a hand to stop her.

  “I know it’s none of my business and that we’re not family, but I care about you like a father cares for his daughter, and right now I think you might need some fatherly advice.”

  Fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled over. Her own father had died when she was young. She knew her heavenly Father loved her, but the love of an earthly father had been absent from her life for so long. She felt her throat close with yearning. All she could do was nod her acknowledgment of his words.

  “Mr. Ludman has been coming around frequently during the last few weeks. He seems quite smitten with you, and from the look on your face, I’d say you feel the same way. Am I correct?” He rested his arms on the white apron across his knees.

  Peggy wanted to answer, but her throat was too tight, and her eyes wouldn’t stop tearing up. Again she nodded.

  “What is stopping you from loving him? Is it the Biltmore rules? Are you afraid you’ll be fired?” He leanedback and pulled a large white handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her.

  She accepted it, blew her nose, wiped her face, and cleared her throat. “No, sir. I can’t be with him because he’s the beekeeper.” His frown told her he needed further explanation. “I’m allergic to bee stings. Mama Elsie says I’ll die if I get stung again.”

  Understanding showed on his features. “I see.”

  Peggy wiped her face once more and twisted the kerchief in her hands. “So we can’t be together.”

  “Yes you can.”

  Didn’t he understand? She could die. “How?”

  “If you were to marry this young man, would you be working with the bees?”

  “No.” Peggy really didn’t think he understood. “But when he comes home, he might have one on him, on his clothes. I could be stung.” Fresh tears spilled down her face as she voiced her fears.

  “Peggy, if you truly love him, you will trust him to not bring the bees inside. He could change his clothes in the barn and come in, wearing fresh clothes or something like that.”

  As she blew her nose, her thoughts went to what he’d just said. Was that possible? Could Mark protect her?

  Chef McConnell said, “Peggy, I know you are a church-going woman. Don’t you trust God to protect you?”

  Her head snapped up, and she looked into his eyes. Hadn’t she read the scripture this morning that said to trust in the Lord with all her heart and lean not on her ownunderstanding? She knew she had. It might not have been written just like that, but it was what she’d read. “Of course I do.”

  “Then trust in Him.”

  Peggy offered him back his handkerchief, but he waved it aside. “You can return it to me later.” He patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a few minutes and compose yourself? Then you can return to the kitchen.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Chef McConnell. I’ll think and pray on all you’ve said.”

  Sa
tisfaction radiated from Mark’s being. He’d just signed the papers on the Lark farm and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop the smile that insisted on spreading his lips. Joshua bounced on the seat beside him. He talked nonstop of the crops they’d grow and the livestock they’d buy. Thankfully the cow and chickens had come with the farm.

  The thought of the barnyard animals and the small herb garden outside the kitchen door brought visions of Peggy working and living on the farm. He looked down at the honey pot at his feet. He’d attached a card and planned on dropping it off at the kitchens for her.

  Two more weeks had passed, and she still hadn’t spoken to him. He knew the kitchens were busy preparing for Christmas, and that he’d probably not be allowed to see her again today, but that didn’t stop him from pointing the wagon toward the Biltmore house. Mark wanted to share everything with her and prayed that this time would be different.

  “Papa, would you drop me off here? I’d like to go tell Benjamin about our new farm,” Joshua asked.

  Mark pulled the horses to a stop. “Be home by dinner,” he called after the boy who’d already leaped from the wagon, headed toward his friend’s home.

  “I will.” Joshua waved and continued on.

  Mark clucked his tongue and gently flicked the reins. The closer he came to the mansion, the more his stomach fluttered. Would she see him? What would she say? They hadn’t talked in so long. Could Frank be wrong? Was it more than the fear of bees that kept her away? He shook his head and demanded the questions to stop.

  “Mark, you’ve prayed about this. May He give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. God has given you the strength to see this through. If she still doesn’t want to talk to you, you’ll have to abide by her decision.” Reciting scripture and talking to himself did nothing to settle the butterflies in his stomach.

  In the distance, a woman walked toward him. He didn’t recognize her, but something in the way she walked, with her face tilted toward the sky, made him think of Peggy. Mark guided the horses to the side of the road so that when she got even with him, she could pass. He stopped and set the brake.