Eleanor regarded him with a new appreciation. He was talented at his trade. No wonder everyone in town sought him out for any kind of metalworking.
“I had another interesting visitor today, one who didn’t need anything created or fixed,” he said as he cut another piece of pork.
“Oh?”
“Richard Inman,” Merrick said before taking a bite of the pork.
“How is his wife? Did he mention her?” Eleanor hadn’t seen the woman since she’d last spoken with her.
Merrick swallowed. “He did. In fact, he said that she’s been lonesome, especially while he’s been working. It seems he took a position at the bank.”
“A banker,” Eleanor mused. It made sense, given their nice clothing and wagon and the well-kept horses they’d appeared with that first day. “Felicity is friendly enough. I wish she’d come pay me a visit. I would have gone to see her if I knew where she was staying.”
“The way he spoke about her, I believe he’s hoping you might invite her around.”
“Consider the invitation given—if I knew where to send it,” Eleanor said as she eyed Merrick’s half-empty plate. “Do you want more of those apples?”
“If there are any?” he said hopefully.
She grinned and took his plate to refill it. The apples had been the first thing he’d eaten. “Could you pass the word along to Mr. Inman if you see him again? Please tell him Felicity is welcome any time.”
“I will.” He took the plate from her, his eyes immediately going to the steaming apples heaped upon it.
Eleanor pushed her own plate back, too full to finish.
His gaze flicked up to her in concern. “Are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine. Tired and full, but not sick.” She gave him a reassuring smile as she rested her hands on her stomach. “The children were so excited to play this afternoon that Rebecca and I finished most of their plates in addition to our own. We made good progress on my skirts and shirtwaists today.”
“That’s good,” Merrick replied. “Because I have something else that will occupy your time.”
Curiosity aroused, Eleanor straightened in her chair. “And what is that?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait until I’m finished eating,” he said with a happy gleam in his eyes.
Thankfully, he finished quickly. Eleanor gathered the dirty plates while he went back out to the shop. Soon enough, he arrived with several small, wrapped parcels.
“What is this?” Eleanor asked as he sat them on the table.
“Open them and find out.” Merrick stepped back, his hands laced behind him, and waited.
Well, now she was definitely curious. What could fit in such small wrappings?
She took the first one, untied the string, and unfolded the wrapping. A small amount of folded fabric stared back at her. She pulled it out and held it up. It was the color of butter, a soft white-yellow. And given the amount of it, she knew exactly what it was for.
“Do you like it?” he asked, his eyebrows lifted in hope.
“I do. It’s beautiful and so soft. For the baby’s clothing, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “Open the next one.”
Eleanor refolded the material and laid it on its wrapping. Six more parcels sat in front of her. She bit her lip. They couldn’t all be fabric, could they?
She carefully opened the next one, which was indeed fabric in a soft shade of green. Then there was white, and a light blue gingham. The last two parcels were filled with yarn, ready to be knitted into tiny slippers, hats, and sweaters.
Eleanor stared at it all, completely overcome. No one had every done anything like this for her. She couldn’t imagine the expense. “Merrick, I don’t . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. All you have to do is make clothing.” He stood there, so proud and smiling.
