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Chapter 8
Ellie used her fingernails to scrape away frost on the parlor window so she could watch the street. She expected Max any minute to drive her to the homes on the long list of people getting Christmas baskets. The air had turned colder overnight. She could see the breath of those who hurried by, collars pulled up, necks tucked in against the cold.
She shivered, running her palms over her upper arms against the chill. Mrs. Beamer kept the front parlor fireplace cold during the day to conserve wood. She only lit the fire right before supper so the women could sit there in the evening. Ellie hurried back to her room and pulled a wool sweater over her dress. The doorbell rang.
“Are you sure you want to do this today? It’s freezing out there.” Max entered the house, rubbing his gloved hands together.
“Yes, I can’t wait any longer. It’s only three days until Christmas.” She reached for her coat, and Max took it from her and helped her into it. Ellie pulled on a hat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. “The baskets are stacked in my bedroom.” She pointed down the hall as she adjusted her gloves.
“How many do we have?” he asked as he grabbed a couple baskets and headed toward the door.
“Seventeen.”
After three trips, the back seat of the Oldsmobile overflowed with holiday cheer. No longer cold after all the work, Ellie unwrapped her scarf and settled into the seat.
“Let me see your list.” Max held his hand out and studied the paper. “All right, I think we can drive in a complete circle and get them all delivered in a few hours.” He motioned Ellie closer and handed her a pencil.
With their heads together, Max had her place a number alongside each address based on its location. Ellie’s heart sped up again at their nearness. The last few days in school, he’d avoided her, which she’d told herself was for the best. She had her life plan, and he had his. So, okay, maybe she’d rethought her life plan a little bit. But it didn’t have to include him. Although time spent with Max had been the motivation to take another look at her direction to begin with.
Soon he pulled back, and with everything in order, they started off. They first stopped at Mrs. Olsen, a widow with no children. Her neighbors and church helped out with food and clothing. Mrs. Olsen made doilies and lace tablecloths she sold in the general store for a small amount of money. Ellie had made sure her basket held some treats, which she knew the woman rarely had and would certainly enjoy.
“I sense you’re enjoying this, but we can’t have tea and cookies at every house we stop at, or we’ll be doing this until midnight.” Max cranked the engine after their second stop at the McNeil’s house.
“Some of the older people need the company as much as the basket.”
After about three hours, they’d made half the stops. Max pulled to the side of the road in front of a barbershop. “I think we could use some lunch. Let’s try that restaurant.” He pointed to a building across the street, advertising sandwiches and coffee on the large glass window.
Ellie peeked her nose out from the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. “That sounds good to me. I’m really cold. I hope they have a fire going.”
Max
laughed. “Your nose is bright red.”
“So’s yours,” she countered.
The heat from the blazing potbellied stove warmed the entire room. Ellie pulled off her gloves and warmed her hands at the stove while Max secured a table. Soon they were seated close to the stove, enjoying a bowl of beef vegetable soup and fresh bread.
“How is it your aunt Tori is a wonderful cook, and you never picked up on it?” Max grinned at her between mouthfuls of soup.
Ellie grimaced. “I knew you would eventually bring that up. My sister Rachel was the one interested in cooking and baking. In fact, when we first came to Oklahoma, Tori made the baked goods for The Café, and Rachel helped her. I, on the other hand, found climbing trees and wading in the creek for frogs much more appealing.
“And now you climb ladders instead.” He chuckled.
They finished their meal, and Max took care of the check.
“I should pay my portion of the bill,” Ellie said, fumbling in her purse.
Max glared at her. “I would never allow a woman to pay for anything when she accompanies me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m a working woman, and I pay my own way.”
“Not with me.”
They glared at each other for a few moments. “Shall we go?” Max extended his arm. Ellie sailed past him, ignoring his arm, and left the restaurant.
“Here it is. Stop.” Ellie glanced from the paper she held, to the front door of a small house.
Max pulled his goggles off and stretched. “I’ve lost track. Whose house is this now?” It had been a long afternoon. He glanced in the back seat. Only one basket left. His stomach clamored for a hearty meal, followed by relaxing in the parlor with his newspaper.
