Page 4 of A Letter to Carolina
Georgia couldn’t get enough of the juice or the pickles. She’d even made a relish this week to eat with crackers. He didn’t think it would be long before she and Simon had an announcement of their own to make.
“Just because you drink it doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to.” Emily plucked two pickles out and added them to her plate with what looked like a chicken sandwich. “The diner, Nate?”
“Marshal Davis’s wife opened a diner about four years ago. She closed it up when she had their son in February. About the time you got here, she’d just started cleaning things up and getting ready to reopen. But now there’s another babe on the way and he’s making his mama awfully sick. It sounds like Sam’s ma is sticking around now to help with things. Might even be permanent; and she’s offering to pay the girls for their help.”
His eyes narrowed, watching Georgia move stiffly toward the pickle jar.Was she hurt?Curiosity settled inside him as he watched her pour a thimble of juice and down it quickly, like a shot. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Emily shudder and barely contained his chuckle.
“There’s only one pickle left in this jar.” Georgia glared at Emily.
“And the cupboard is empty. How I wish Aunt Cleo would tell me the secret of her sour pickles. I’m happy that she’s spending more time awake, but part of me thinks she’s enjoying the quiet of being in her room as I noticed she’s crocheting again,” Emily sighed.
“There are more pickles in the springhouse. Would it make either of you more likely to make cinnamon rolls today if I collected a few jars for you?” Rising, he didn’t look back over his shoulder. There was an unspoken rule about asking Georgia for cinnamon rolls.Technically, he hadn’t asked.He placed his plate in the sink and took a final swig of his coffee before adding the cup as well.
Two pairs of glassy eyes turned towards him, their cheeks bright pink. Moments later, both heads bobbed. Clearly, he’d robbed them of speech, or at least embarrassment had. Chuckling to himself, he headed out the back door. It only took a few minutes for him to gather eight jars and return to the kitchen.
“I didn’t know there were more,” Emily cooed. He’d have thought by now her cravings would have slowed down. Most had, but not her rabid desire for Aunt Cleo’s sour pickles. He wondered why Bass hadn’t told his sweet wife that he knew the recipe or that he could make them as well, if not better than Aunt Cleo. Nate would remind the man at dinner tonight.That’s what little brothers were for, right?
“Whatever her secret is to these pickles, I will give her just about anything to teach us,” Georgia whispered.
Georgia confirmed Nate’s suspicions with her words. “Have you told Simon yet?” He folded his arms, a smile of pride on his face.
“Told him what?”
Nope, he would not be the one to let that slip, unless she asked him directly. She wasn’t his patient, and Emily had been very clear about not wanting her brother-in-law to be anywhere near her lady parts. Even in a professional capacity.
“Nathaniel,” Emily’s voice rose, reminding him of Aunt Cleo, “You did not come into this kitchen to provide us with pickles and stir the pot. Tell her.”
It felt a lot like he was going to be in trouble. “Without an examination, I can’t say for sure, but I believe Emily will not be the only one having a baby in the new year. Which will be excellent for the cousins to grow up together.”
“I. No?” Georgia’s eyes glanced between him and Emily, the latter beaming with pride.
“I knew it! That’s why I keep running out of pickles!” Emily crowed gleefully.
Georgia pursed her lips. “Don’t you dare tell your brother. He’s all up in arms about the fall harvest, round up and rising costs. I will tell him when I’m ready.”
Nate gave her a smile and a wink. “Maddy, we’re leaving. I’ll be home for dinner. If she decides she doesn’t want to stay in town, I’ll bring her home with me.” He gave them both a wave, deciding that escape was the better part of valor.
“Hey, Nate. Before you go,” Emily bit her lip, and his brow furrowed.
“You ok?”
With a slight nod, she took a deep breath, and Nate noticed the green tinge in her cheeks.
“I have two letters that need to go out. Can you grab them from the mantle and mail them for me?”
“I’ll take them for you. Two letters? Does that mean that more brides are coming? I’m assuming it’s not one for me,” he muttered under his breath. “You seem to be taking your time with that.”
He didn’t mean to sound bitter; but while Simon had been resistant to a bride even from the beginning, Nate had asked Emily directly. He had no notion that he would be better off alone. If Emily couldn’t find someone before Christmas, he was going to chat with Marmee Chapman. Her track record with proper matches meant he wouldn’t be alone in the new year.
“I haven’t forgotten about you, but unlike Bass, I’m trying to let God lead me in what to do. Lately, it’s been a struggle to hear Him over my nausea.”
Maddy circled to his side with Emily’s letters in her hand.
“Sorry I got moody, Em,” Nate gave her a crooked smile. “Lots of things have been changing lately, and I want to know more than a few days before the stage arrives. I don’t like surprises.”
“Don’t worry Doc, no surprises for you. These letters are specifically to see if the women’s situations have changed at all.”
Tipping his head once more, it was time to head out.
