Free [Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm by Janette Oke Page A

was uncertain. The fanned napkins were the next to go. She shook them out, then folded them and laid them beside the plates. That helped—but she was sure her aunt Mary would have been disappointed.
    She had lived with Uncle Jon and Aunt Mary in their Calgary home while she took the secretarial course. During that time she had begged to be taught the niceties of city life that would prepare her for being a hostess in an urban setting. Though her mother had taught her the accepted manners of genteel society, her upbringing in the North had placed her far beyond the range of city social customs. Aunt Mary had been happy to teach her the duties of a charming hostess, along with the decorative touches that helped to make a memorable meal. Christine had been put under Cook’s tutelage in the kitchen. She had loved it. In fact at one point she had considered becoming a chef instead of continuing her secretarial training. Her practical nature had kept her on track, however. There were far more positions available for secretaries than for chefs.
    Now she fidgeted with the cutlery and rearranged the water glasses. Was the crystal too much?
    She heard the voices drawing close and guessed that Mr. Kingsley was gradually leading his son toward the dining room. There was no more time for fussing. She reached up to tuck a stray curl away, and then they were in the doorway. Mr. Kingsley pushed his tall son ahead of him while he chortled in pleasure.
    “My little surprise,” he bawled gleefully. “Got us a cook.”
    Christine felt her cheeks burn. The young man was more handsome than she had remembered. He studied her openly, his eyes indicating his own pleasure.
    “You remember Miss Delaney?”
    Mr. Kingsley had not ceased slapping his son on the back. Rather worse than the tapping pencil.
    Boyd nodded. Christine noticed the twinkle in his eyes. “Who could forget?” he said with a courtly little bow and a smile at her.
    “Who could forget? That’s good. Who could forget?” Mr. Kingsley thumped his son’s back again. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. You won’t forget the chicken and dumplings. No siree.”
    “Excuse me,” said Christine, flushed and a bit uncertain. “I need to finish dishing up.”
    “May I help?”
    Boyd’s question surprised her. “No. No, thank you. I’ll just ... I’ll ...” She gave up and hurried from the room.
    “Let’s sit down,” she heard Mr. Kingsley say. “She’ll be right in.”
    Christine managed to get the rest of the food into serving bowls without spilling or dropping anything. After finally sitting down herself, she looked to Mr. Kingsley, wondering if he would offer a table grace. But he just said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s eat!” as he grabbed up the nearest bowl.
    It was a rather boisterous meal—though Christine had very little to contribute to the conversation. She wished she could have eaten in the kitchen as she had done before. She heard many lively stories about university life. Then she realized that few of the stories had anything to do with classes or studies. Mostly they were of sporting events and dorm pranks.
    “So how are your courses coming?” Mr. Kingsley eventually asked. “Still think you’re going to like law?”
    “Didn’t I tell you? I dropped that field.”
    Mr. Kingsley lifted his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you told me.”
    “Sorry. Guess I was just so involved ...” But there didn’t seem to be any true contrition in his tone.
    “When did you make the switch?”
    “First of the semester.”
    “And what did you switch to?”
    “I don’t know—yet. Still haven’t decided. I think journalism might be interesting.”
    Mr. Kingsley nodded, his eyes questioning. But his voice was still even, interested, as he said, “Journalism?” He nodded. “Sounds good.”
    Boyd turned to Christine and complimented her on the dumplings.
    Mr. Kingsley interrupted with, “The girl’s a wonder in the kitchen.”
    “Sure