by Nerys Leigh
“Looks like I got back just in time,” Dan said as he brought the wagon to a halt in the yard. “I’d have hated to miss you milking Pea.”
Will moved his eyes to the wooden box in the back of the wagon, but it was safely empty. Dan had gone to check on his beehives while Will did the afternoon chores, and if any of the frames in which the bees built their honeycombs had been full, he would have brought them back with him in the box. When that happened, sometimes bees followed.
Over winter Daniel had added five more hives, and the honey his bees produced was exceedingly popular on market days in Green Hill Creek. It was popular with Will, too. He loved honey. He didn’t, however, love bees, and drew the line at working with them.
Bees terrified him. There was an incident when he was sixteen. He didn’t like to talk about it.
Will held Pea’s halter out towards Dan. “You can milk her if you like.”
“And deprive Sara and me of the fun of watching? Besides, it’s your turn.” Dan jumped down from the wagon.
“Actually, it’s my turn,” Sara said, walking up to the horses and giving River and Ginger a rub. “But Will won’t let me.”
“Good.” Daniel slipped his arms around her with a smile. “You need to rest.”
She gave a strangled cry of frustration. “I swear, if you two...”
The rest of her words vanished as Dan pressed his lips to hers. A moment later, she slipped her arms around his neck.
Will turned back to Peapod, smiling. He’d never seen his brother so happy as he’d been in the year since Sara arrived, and now, with his dream of having a family about to come true, he was all but glowing. Will couldn’t have been happier for him and Sara. It was what Dan had always wanted, right from when they were children.
Both Will’s older brothers were solid, family men. Will was the black sheep of the family, but he’d made his peace with the fact that he would never be like them. Not after his past of gambling, alcohol, and women. He was the last person who should be given the responsibility of being a husband and father.
He looked up at the new barn. He’d stopped it all the night the old barn burned down while he was passed out drunk and bruised on Daisy’s settee, when he should have been at the farm, helping Sara and his injured brother fight the flames. They could have died and he wouldn’t have been there. That would never happen again.
But although he’d given up that life, he still hadn’t forgiven himself. God may have, but Will wasn’t sure he ever could.
“All right, Pea,” he said, unlatching the gate, “let’s get this over with.”
She stood still while he haltered her, but once outside the gate she yanked him in the direction of the barn’s open door. After years of working on Daniel’s farm, Will was strong, but Pea was far stronger, and never missed an opportunity to press that point home.
“Will you be around for supper?” Sara asked, following them into the barn.
Pea started work on the rack of hay fixed to the wall just inside the door.
Will tied her rope around the hook set beside it. “Not today.” He didn’t have to elaborate. Sara’s smile said she knew exactly where he’d be going. “And don’t say it.”
She rubbed Pea’s neck and the cow paused her eating to nuzzle into her touch. “Say what?”
He didn’t answer. There was no need to encourage her.
He fetched the milking stool and set it beside Pea, dodging back when she sent a kick in his direction.
“Pea, that’s not nice,” Sara chided her.
The cow threw Will an unrepentant look.
“Daisy likes you, you know.”
In the process of placing the bucket beneath Pea’s udder, Will paused. “Did she say something to you?”
“No, but I can tell.”
He sat on the low stool. “We’re just friends. We’ve always been just friends, right from when we were children.”
Once upon a time, he’d regretted that. Now, he recognized it as the good thing it was. The last thing he should do was get romantically entangled, especially with Daisy. She deserved far better than him.
“Will, you’re a wonderful, intelligent man, and the best brother-in-law I could wish for, but sometimes you are so utterly obtuse.” She turned for the door. “If you want something to eat before you leave, I made molasses cake today.”
He speeded up the milking. “I’ll be right there. Don’t let Dan eat it all.”
~ ~ ~
“May I have candy?”
A small hand slipped into Daisy’s and attempted to tug her in the direction of Lamb’s General Store’s candy display.
She moved her attention from the bolts of fabric she was inspecting to her son. “Just one.”
He let go of her hand, ran four steps, came to an abrupt halt, and stared at a nearby shelf. He stood still for a few moments before spinning to run back to her. “May I have a toy?”
Nicky had reached the age where he was beginning to assert himself, which included asking for anything he wanted. Shopping, which Daisy had always liked, was becoming somewhat less enjoyable. She was sure she’d used the word ‘no’ more times in the past six months than in the entire rest of her life.
“It’s your birthday next week. You can wait until then to see what you get.”
He pursed his lips, clearly wondering if he could press the point. Evidently deciding he’d be better off taking what he could get, he cast one final glance at the shelf and headed for the candy.
Daisy studied the range of wooden toys but couldn’t tell which one had caught his attention. Not that she could afford it. She’d already spent more on his upcoming fourth birthday than she should have. Much as she wanted to give him everything he wanted, she couldn’t spoil him. Without his father, it was up to her to teach him boundaries. It wasn’t a role she relished.
She returned to sorting through the fabric for a new shirt for Nicky. He was outgrowing his clothing so fast she barely completed one thing before he would need another. She fingered a blue checked calico that he would look adorable in. Maybe she should get enough to make herself a new dress as well. He wasn’t yet at the age when wearing a shirt to match his mother’s dress would be embarrassing. Hopefully she had another few years to go before then.
Smiling to herself, she shook her head. She had enough of her own clothing. The extra expense wasn’t justifiable. But she’d get the calico for a shirt for Nicky.
She picked up the bolt of fabric to take to Mr. Lamb at the counter.
“Mrs. Monroe.”
Daisy came to a halt as the wife of the town’s pre-eminent, in her own words, citizen walked up to her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Vernon,” she said. “How are you today?”
She silently berated herself for asking the question. Mrs. Vernon wasn’t a bad person, but conversations with her could, at times, be somewhat taxing.
“I’m well, thank you. Well, not completely well, with this changeable weather. It plays havoc on my sinuses. But I’m bearing up. I can’t let a little thing like pain keep me from my duties.” Mrs. Vernon’s expression was the epitome of fortitude.
As far as Daisy could tell, the only duty Mrs. Vernon had was knowing what every single person in Green Hill Creek was doing at any given time.
“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“That’s so kind of you.” Mrs. Vernon’s face skipped from fortitude to solicitude in an instant. “I’m glad we’ve run into each other. I’ve been wanting to speak with you.”
Daisy kept her face neutral while she inwardly groaned. There was no way those seven words coming from Mrs. Vernon’s mouth could be a good thing. “I don’t really have much time…”
“This won’t take long. It’s regarding William Raine.”
“It… is?” Daisy asked carefully.
“It hasn’t escaped my notice that the two of you have been spending a great deal of time together.”
As if anything in Green Hill Creek escaped Mrs. Vernon’s notice.
“We’re friends,” Daisy replied. “We’ve known each other since we were children.”
Mrs. Vernon gave her a condescending smile. “Come along, Mrs. Monroe, we both know the time you and Mr. Raine spend together is considerably more than would be proper for mere friendship between a man and woman.”
Daisy frowned. “What are you suggesting?”
“He’s at your house unchaperoned several times a week. Isn’t it time the two of you were married?”
Daisy drew herself up. She didn’t care whose wife Mrs. Vernon was; she wasn’t about to let such an accusation go. “We are not unchaperoned. My son is with us.” Most of the time. “And Will comes to my house once or twice a week at most.” Occasionally three or four times. Rarely more than five. “And I resent the implication. Will has been a great help to me and Nicky since my husband died. As I said, we are friends, and that is all. I’ll thank you to not spread any unfounded rumors to the contrary.”
She felt a tug on her dress.
“Ma, may I have two? I promise I’ll keep one for tomorrow.”
Horrified, she looked round at Nicky standing behind her, two candy bars clutched in his small hand.
How much had he heard?
“Sure you can, sweetie.” Picking up the bolt of blue calico, she nodded to Mrs. Vernon. “Good day, Mrs. Vernon.”
She took Nicky’s hand and steered him in the direction of Mr. Lamb at the sales counter, not daring to look back at Mrs. Vernon.
“Ma?” Nicky said as they made their way across the store. “What does unchap… chapper… chapperound mean?”
Chapter 2
Daisy dipped the spoon into the saucepan and replaced the lid. She blew on the stew for a few seconds then took a small sip. Perfect. Just the way Will liked it.
She suspected there was a reason she’d chosen to make his favorite beef stew for his visit tonight. No, not suspected, she knew why she’d done it. Mrs. Vernon. Daisy couldn’t get the conversation they’d had in the store out of her mind. And she’d tried. Oh, how she’d tried. The house was spotless.
It wasn’t that she’d never considered the possibility of marrying Will. They’d always been good friends, and she liked his company very much. Not to mention the fact that he was the kind of tall, dark and handsome that had women falling over themselves to get his attention. Add to that being kind, funny, intelligent, and generous, and he was close to perfect.
Of course, no man was perfect, and Will had his flaws. For one thing, he had a somewhat wild past. She’d wondered on more than one occasion if she would have ever married Gareth if that hadn’t been the case. Her first love had been Adam, but he moved away from town with his family when she was eighteen and didn’t return for five years when he became the postmaster. But she was married to Gareth by then. It took her some time to get over him, but as she did, she’d started to think of Will differently.
But Will began frequenting the saloon around that time, and then Gareth arrived in town and swept her off her feet, and that was that.
But now…
Now Will spent a lot of time with her and Nicky. It started off perfectly innocently, a few months after Gareth died. She’d happened to mention that her father was going to fix her porch rail just as soon as he had the time, Will offered to do it, and somehow he’d just sort of stayed around.
She’d still been in mourning for her husband back then, and desperately missing him. The first intense flush of grief had eased, but the loneliness, the ache of not having him with her, still held her captive. But Will’s presence made her feel as if she could breathe again. He was simply there, making her laugh, playing with Nicky, returning a light to her life she’d thought lost.
And gradually, as the months passed, her heart healed. And now she was beginning to think of Will differently again.
She hadn’t lied to Mrs. Vernon, she and Will were simply good friends. But she was beginning to suspect she wanted to be more, and the brief conversation in the general store had apparently brought those feelings to the forefront of her mind. And now they refused to go away.
The familiar sound of small running footsteps roused her from her thoughts. Nicky started to speak before he even made it into the kitchen. Why did young children want to do everything yesterday? “May I make Will an invitation for my birthday party?”
“Have you set the table?”
“Yes, Ma.”
“All right. I’ll come and help you with the words in a minute.”
“Can Will help me?”
She couldn’t help smiling. “You want Will to help you to write his own invitation?”
A small frown creased Nicky’s brow as he considered that. Apparently finding nothing wrong with the idea, he nodded. “I like it when Will helps me with my letters.”
She took no offense at the implication that he liked it less when she helped him with his letters. Will was the fun, exciting one. She was just Nicky’s mother. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you. Go get your pencils and paper.”
He ran from the kitchen and Daisy took a cloth and opened the oven door to check on the bread baking inside. One more thing Will had going for him was that Nicky adored him, and that might have been the most important thing of all.
She slid the bread from the oven and set it out to cool. She was carrying the pan to the sink when a knock on the door startled her so much she almost dropped it.
Placing it carefully into the sink, she shook her head at herself. Will had come to supper at least twice a week for almost a year and she’d never been so jumpy. If only Mrs. Vernon had kept her opinions to herself.
She pulled her apron off and headed for the front door, smoothing her hair.
Yes, smoothing her hair wasn’t something she usually did when he arrived either.
Nicky burst from the living room ahead of her and dashed up to the door. He pulled it open and Daisy’s heart leaped as Will smiled at her. No man had a right to be that handsome, with his lustrous dark hair and shining hazel eyes and the hint of a dimple in his left cheek. It wasn’t fair.
Honestly, Daisy, pull yourself together.
He lowered his gaze to Nicky and she took the opportunity to quietly gasp in a breath.
“Hey, kid,” Will said, leaning down to pick him up.
Nicky burst into giggles as he was hoisted into the air and then settled in Will’s arms. Daisy almost groaned out loud. Seeing him with her son wasn’t at all helping to banish the thoughts of marriage.
“Is that my favorite beef stew I smell?” he asked as he walked inside and nudged the door closed behind him.
She led the way into the kitchen. “It’s beef stew. I think you’re better qualified than I am to judge if it’s your favorite.”
He chuckled, a rich sound that always made her feel good. “Can’t argue with that. I’ll let you know after I’ve eaten it. Oh, freshly baked bread.” He set Nicky down and strolled over to the cooling loaf.
Nicky ran from the room.
“That’s for eating with the stew,” she said, lifting the saucepan lid to give said stew another stir.
“I can fit in more than one slice.” He gave the bread a deep sniff then turned to her with pleading eyes. “Please?” he said, drawing out the word.
She stifled a laugh and shook her head. “You’re worse than Nicky. Fine, you can slice it for supper and have one now.”
He grinned. “I love coming here.”
Smiling, she returned to her preparations for supper while he fetched butter and a knife.
Nicky returned with his pencils and paper and sat beside him at the table.
Yes, she liked having Will around very much. Enough to make it permanent, though?
She glanced at him helping her son to write his birthday party invitation and knew there was every chance that it was.
~ ~ ~
Will leaned back into the armchair with a contented sigh and patted his full stomach. “Yup, definitely my favorite beef stew.”
“Are you sure you w
ouldn’t like a third helping?” Daisy said, taking her sewing basket from the sideboard by the window and sitting on the settee opposite him.
He knew she meant it as a joke, but he gave it some serious thought anyway. Daisy’s beef stew could almost rival that of Mrs. Goodwin, possibly the most skilled cook in the whole of America. “Maybe later.”
Nicky walked up to him, clutching his favorite storybook, and Will leaned forward to lift him onto his lap. They did this whenever Will was there for his bedtime, and Nicky always wanted to be read The Adventurous Ladybug. Occasionally, Will would suggest they try something else. He’d even bought him another book, even though Nicky had plenty of his own. But Nicky always wanted to return to the ladybug. Will loved reading to him, but he’d read this one so many times that he could recite it from memory.
Nicky settled on his lap, resting back against his chest with a yawn.
Will wrapped his arms around his small body and opened the book to the first page, where an illustration of a bright red ladybug greeted him. “There was once a ladybug who lived in a tree. She had hatched from an egg in the tree, been a baby ladybug in the tree, and become an adult ladybug in the tree. She had never left her tree. But then, one day, something happened…”
By the time Will came to the final sentence, Nicky’s eyelids were drooping. “And the ladybug realized that, although she’d been on lots of adventures and met lots of new friends, she was very glad to be back in her tree. Because of all the places she’d been, her favorite place was home.”
He closed the book and set it beside him on the chair, glancing at Daisy. Her eyes darted back to the dress she was sewing.
He’d noticed her watching him as he read. Not that she never looked at him, but it seemed to him that her attention was on him more than usual this evening.
“Will?”
He looked down at Nicky. “Hmm?”
The little boy yawned and leaned his head onto Will’s chest, his eyes closing. “Are you going to marry Ma?”
For a few seconds, Will couldn’t breathe. He darted his gaze to Daisy. She’d stopped sewing and was watching him.
