“I’m sure glad your thumb didn’t get in the way while you were pounding that nail.” Uncle Frank smiled down at him. “You mad at the world or jest that nail?”
Luke hiked a shoulder and continued working. He didn’t want to talk about his anger, or Nellie, or Margaret, or Hope. He wanted to go to bed tonight, wake up tomorrow and have this whole mess over with. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before. He wanted to forget the responsibility to his ma and the young’uns. Most of all, he wanted to ask Hope to marry him. She might not accept his offer, but now he’d never know.
Yet he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do what was right, what was expected. A future without Hope would be bleak, but once she left Finch, his wounds might begin to heal. He’d never forget her, never stop loving her, never cease missing her, but the pain of losing her would ease if he could no longer anticipate seeing her at every turn.
His uncle kneeled down beside Luke, picked up a nail, and began to work alongside him. “I’m thinkin’ you’re gonna ruin this piece of lumber if you keep hammering those nails so deep. What’s eatin’ at ya, boy? You know you can talk to me. Ain’t that what kinfolk are for?”
Luke nodded. “I don’t think it’s anything you can help with, Uncle Frank, but thanks for the offer.”
A pained look creased the older man’s features. “I know I ain’t got much book learnin’ and such, but I do know a thing or two about life, and it’s easy enough to see you got a problem. If you ain’t thinking I could do anything, maybe the preacher could help. He’s a right smart fella.”
Luke remained crouched in front of the piece of lumber, then leaned back on his heels. He might as well talk to his uncle since the older man seemed unwilling to let the matter rest. If he told Uncle Frank he couldn’t talk to the preacher, his uncle would suggest someone else, and then another, and another, until Luke finally agreed to reveal his problem to someone. He sighed. It might as well be Uncle Frank.
“I’ve got a problem with Hope.”
His uncle slapped his palm against his thigh. “I knew it! Problems with womenfolk can eat at a fella like a squirrel gnawing an ear of corn. You needin’ some money to bid on her basket? I kin lend ya a little if that’s the problem.” His uncle dropped his hammer and reached for his overall pocket.
“No.” Luke covered his uncle’s hand with his own. “I don’t need any money, but I need to know how I keep from hurting someone I love. You see, I know Hope plans on me bidding on her basket. Her pa told me how it’s decorated, so I can’t say I didn’t know which basket was hers. Truth is, I think she asked him to tell me, but he didn’t say that.”
“So what’s the problem? You like her, she likes you, you got money to bid on the basket, and you know which basket to buy. How’s that hurt her?”
“I can’t bid on her basket. It wouldn’t be fair to her or to me. I’m trying to stay away from her as much as I can.”
His uncle pushed his hat back on his head. “You got me plum confused, Luke. I need a little more to go on if I’m gonna give ya any help.”
Before Luke could respond, Nellie returned with a jug of water. She offered a cup to her uncle and then leaned close to Luke’s ear. “I told Margaret you’d be bidding on her basket. She’s so excited I thought she might cry.”
Luke twisted sideways to look at Nellie. Anger churned in his belly until he thought he might explode. “I told you to stay out of this, Nellie. I’m not bidding on anyone’s basket, so you can go and tell Margaret you made a big, fat mistake. If she cries or gets her nose outta joint, it’s your fault for stirring things up. You’re the one who’s been running back and forth between us like a bow on a box fiddle.”
Nellie grabbed the cup from her uncle and blew out a huff. “You’ll change your mind.” She hissed the words at him as she turned and stalked off.
His uncle nudged his arm. “I can’t take no more of this, Luke. What’s going on?”
“Nellie wants me to bid on Margaret’s basket. She thinks we’d be a good match, but I told her I’m not interested. Now Nellie’s trying to force my hand by telling me Margaret is expecting me to purchase her basket.”
His uncle took off his hat and scratched his head. “You got two gals expecting you to bid on their baskets. You care for one, but not the other. You said you was tryin’ to stay away from Hope, but if you care for her, why would you do that? I thought we hashed out the problems about caring for the family the other day. I’m true to my word, Luke. You ain’t got no worries on that account. Don’t let Nellie decide who you’re gonna court.”
“I’m not, Uncle Frank, but she’s set me to thinking.” He detailed his earlier talk with Nellie. When he finished, he met his uncle’s gaze. “Nellie’s right. Hope wouldn’t be happy living in Finch for the rest of her life. I know you’d do your best for Ma and the young’uns, but it ain’t fair to expect you to take over my responsibility. You’ve got a right to a life of your own, too.”
His uncle laughed. “If that’s your problem, then you can set aside your worries, boy, ’cause I’m gonna be taking care of your ma and the young’uns from here on out.”
Luke stared at his uncle. “What does that mean?”
“We’re getting hitched. I asked her and she said yes. The preacher said he’d say the words over us come Sunday afternoon.”
Luke continued to stare at the older man as the words sunk into his consciousness. “Married? You and Ma?”
Uncle Frank nodded. “You don’t look too pleased by the news. I thought you’d be happy. It solves your problem, don’t it? I mean it frees ya up to court whoever you want. You don’t need to worry ’bout supportin’ your ma and the young’uns no more.”
“Well, yeah, I’m happy, but I didn’t know. I mean, she never said nothin’ and . . .”
He guffawed again. “If’n you was ’round the house more, you’d have guessed, but you and Nellie been so busy with your own doings that neither of you paid your ma and me no mind. I love her and plan to do right by her, Luke.”
“I know you will, Uncle Frank. I didn’t hesitate ’cause I had any misgivings about you and ma getting married. I just never gave it any thought.”
His uncle lightly slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you ain’t got no objection and that I could help ya with that problem of yours.”
Luke drew in a deep breath and looked heavenward. Was this the answer he’d been praying for? Was he now free to follow his heart?
Luke glanced toward Hope, but a fresh fear made his throat tighten. He’d hurt her terribly in the last few days. Would she forgive him?
One of the railroaders who’d come to help with the construction was talking to her. She tipped her head and smiled at the fellow. Her laughter carried on the breeze. Maybe his problem wasn’t solved after all. Maybe he was too late.
CHAPTER
28
On a sunny autumn afternoon, the ladies of Finch and the surrounding area arrived with their decorated baskets and placed them on a makeshift table that consisted of a wide board balanced on two sawhorses. The men arrived a short time later so as to avoid knowledge of who’d prepared what basket. Of course, the married men always knew and bid on the baskets prepared by their wives, and those baskets bore scant decoration. But the other baskets had been bedecked with ribbons, flowers, garlands, and even paper chains. The ladies paced in front of the table, examining the myriad baskets, with each unmarried lady hoping the young man of her dreams would win the bid for her basket.
Anticipation mounted as the men arrived and Hope searched the crowd for Luke. She caught sight of him as he circled the table with the other men. He couldn’t possibly miss her basket. Not one was similar to hers. A few of the baskets boasted turkey feathers, but the only ostrich feather waved proudly from the handle of her basket.
Once the men had completed their walk around the table, Hope’s father stepped forward. “I promised the man who performed the most hours of work over the past week the right to choose
a basket without the need to bid on it.” He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a small notebook. “I’ve kept a close calculation of the hours, and the winner of the contest is Thomas Ulrich.”
When the announcement was made, several groans could be heard from the crowd. Undeterred by the reaction of the other men, Thomas jumped to his feet and tossed his hat in the air.
The young fellow pushed his way through the crowd, a wide smile on his face. When he arrived at the table, he extended his arms above his head with his palms toward the crowd. “I got lots of blisters to show for this, but it ain’t gonna take me but a minute to pick the one I want.”
Hope held her breath. What if he chose hers? She grimaced at the thought. Then again it would likely serve her right since she’d schemed to have Luke bid on her basket.
Thomas pointed to a box. “I’ll take this one.”
Hope watched as Thomas reached forward and picked up a wicker basket with a large red-and-white gingham bow attached. She let out a sigh as she glanced around the crowd to see who would step forward to join Thomas. Her attention was drawn to Nellie, who was frowning and whispering to Margaret McCray.
The girl pulled away from Nellie. “I’m here, Thomas.” She ran toward him with a bright smile while waving to the crowd. She rushed to his side and grasped his arm, seemingly pleased that her basket had been chosen, though Nellie’s frown remained intact. Hope momentarily wondered if Nellie had wanted Thomas to bid on her basket. Though she’d never heard Nellie mention Thomas, that didn’t mean she wasn’t hoping to catch his eye.
A few of the men pushed up the bids against friends who were eager to win a particular basket. But mostly the baskets were quickly retrieved, and the couples wandered off to find a quiet spot to eat. When only four or five baskets remained, her father held up Hope’s basket.
She smiled when Luke called out a bid, but one of the visiting railroad managers who’d been talking to Hope earlier in the day immediately raised the bid. Luke raised the bid by ten cents, but the railroader again raised the bid. Back and forth it went until she feared Luke would have to end his bidding for lack of funds. She scowled at the railroader, who likely had more money than good sense, and was surprised to see Luke’s uncle move to the man’s side and whisper in his ear.
When Luke called out his next bid and her father turned toward the railroader, he shook his head. “I’m done. Let the other fella have it.”
Luke strode to the table, withdrew the payment from his pocket, and gestured to Hope. As she moved toward Luke, she stopped beside his uncle. “What did you say to that railroader to get him to stop bidding?”
Frank grinned. “I told him I knew the lady who fixed the food in that basket and that she had a good eye for decoratin’ and such, but couldn’t boil water if someone pumped it fer her. I told him any of the other baskets would be a better choice. Hope ya don’t mind, but I figured Luke was about to run outta money.”
Hope laughed. “I don’t mind a bit. Thank you.”
When she drew near, Luke nodded at his uncle. “What were you and Uncle Frank laughing about?”
After she related what she’d been told, Luke chuckled. “Leave it to Uncle Frank to take care of things. He’s been doing that a lot lately.”
“Has he? How so?” she asked as she spread a blanket for them beneath a tree.
Once she’d sat down on the blanket, he took her hand. “It’s a long story, but we’ve got plenty of time and I have a lot to tell you.”
“Finally.” She smiled nervously at him, and her voice held a tinge of hurt. “It seems like forever since you’ve wanted to talk to me at all.”
“I know, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me once I explain.”
While Hope lifted the food from the basket and placed it on a cloth, Luke explained why he’d been avoiding her. “I know I should have told you, but I wanted to believe there would be a solution. I felt so foolish for not having realized my family needed me to support them, and marriage to you would put an end to everything for them. No income, no house to live in, and I knew I couldn’t do that. I have to admit I wasn’t too happy with God, either. I felt like He’d abandoned me, like He wasn’t hearing my prayers. All of it seemed so unfair. To have you come into my life, declare my love for you, and then realize we couldn’t marry felt like a bad dream.”
Her lips curved in a slow smile. “And now that bad dream has been replaced by a wonderful reality, but I do wish you would have come and talked to me rather than accepting Nellie’s opinion that I could never adjust to a different life. I would have been understanding, and together we could have arrived at some solution.”
He bit into a piece of crispy fried chicken. “This is delicious.” He waved the drumstick in the air. “Best chicken I’ve ever had.”
She shushed him. “Don’t let that railroader hear you talking—not after what your uncle told him.”
His eyes widened and he lowered his voice. “What do you think about marrying the fellow who knows you fry the best chicken in the state of West Virginia?”
“First, I would wonder if he’d asked my father for permission to marry me.” Her voice quivered, her eyes shining with excitement.
“And if he said that your father had given his blessing?” Luke grinned, thankful he’d spoken to Pastor Irvine and asked for permission to wed his daughter.
She giggled. “I think I’d be very happy to marry him, but I must say that I had hoped for a more romantic proposal.”
He picked up a cloth napkin and wiped his hands before taking her hand in his. “You’re right. That wasn’t very good at all. I love you very much, Hope, and I’d be honored if you’d agree to become my wife. You’d make me the happiest and best-fed man in all of West Virginia if you said yes.”
“How could I refuse such a sweet request? I would be honored to become Mrs. Luke Hughes.”
He cupped her cheeks between his hands, leaned forward and kissed her. “You, Hope Irvine, are the answer to my prayers.”
The day dawned bright and crisp in late October with the sun glistening through the leaves that still clung to the trees, and all seemed right with the world. After Kirby’s incarceration, his father had decided to sell the mine, and yesterday the new owner had arrived. He’d met with the miners and their families and answered their questions before announcing there would be an increase in pay for the miners and avowing their families would no longer be required to do business with the company store. The news had been met with enthusiasm, which spread throughout the town, and her father had offered a prayer of thanksgiving later that evening.
Hope placed an iron skillet on the small stove, then opened the rear door of the railcar to allow a breeze to pass through while she prepared breakfast. Her attention flitted back and forth to the window while she fried bacon and eggs. Luke had resumed his morning Bible study meetings with her father, and she’d insisted he join them for breakfast each day.
A smile played at her lips when she caught sight of him. Knees lifted high with each step, he tromped through the damp, calf-high grassy expanse. His boots and pant legs were wet with dew when he arrived at the rear door. He glanced down and then proceeded to remove his boots.
Hope shook her head. “No need to do that, Luke. The floor will dry in no time. Come and sit down. Breakfast is almost ready. I need to tell Papa.” She stepped to the doorway between the living quarters and sanctuary, where her father sat on one of the pews. “Breakfast, Papa. Luke is here.”
He looked up and smiled. “Smells good. My stomach is rumbling already.” He stood and followed her into the living quarters. “Morning, Luke.”
“Morning, Preacher. Looks like you were getting a head start on our Bible studying.”
The older man chuckled. “Just trying to stay out of Hope’s way while she’s cooking. I was in there having a long talk with the Lord.”
“Anything in particular you’re trying to hash out?” Luke poured them each a cup of coffee.
“As a matter
of fact, there’s several things I’ve been praying about over the past couple months, and it seems the answer has arrived for at least some of those petitions.”
Hope heaped their plates with bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes before she sat down. “Would you pray, Papa?”
“Why don’t you, Luke? I’m sure the Lord gets tired of hearing me all the time.” Hope’s father chuckled and bowed his head.
Luke gave thanks for their meal and the bounty of God’s blessings on the miners and their families and asked that He guide all of them through the coming day.
“Thank you, Luke.” Her father tucked a napkin in his shirt collar. “I always enjoy hearing you pray—and I enjoy hearing you preach, too. I think I’m going to have you preach more often.”
Hope glanced at her father. While she was accustomed to her father praising Luke for his increasing knowledge of the Bible and ability to preach when her father was ill or needed elsewhere, his comment seemed strangely out of place this morning. Besides, even though her father’s health had returned, Luke continued to preach at one of the church meetings several days a week.
Luke’s forehead tightened into thin lines. “You been feeling poorly again?”
“No, I’m doing fine. Even the doc agrees.” He smiled and reached inside his vest pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I haven’t told Hope about this. Thought it would be better to talk to the two of you together.”
Her father’s words could mean only one thing: bad news. The fact that he wanted Luke with her when she heard the news—whatever it might be—didn’t bode well for them.
He laid the envelope beside his plate and tapped it with his fingers. “This is from the association headquarters, Luke. The association that sponsors the chapel car and our new church building. I received a letter from them back in September, requesting a report on the status of the construction, the number of regular attendees at our meetings, amount of debt we may have incurred, and other pertinent information about our mission here in Finch.”
The Chapel Car Bride Page 28
