Brides of Iowa

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Brides of Iowa Page 13

by Stevens, Connie;


  Tessa set her elbow on the table and leaned her chin into her hand. “So what should we do?”

  Gideon’s heart did a little flip at her question, and he decided to tuck away the “we” for future consideration. “First thing we’re going to do is pray about it. After that…well, I’ve made a mess of things too many times running ahead of God.”

  Tessa looked at him squarely in the eye, like she was weighing his answer. A hint of a smile tilted the corner of her mouth. “Prayer is a good start. I’ll certainly be praying.”

  Gideon ignored the heat rising from his middle. “I … uh … I sort of thought, well, maybe we could … pray together.”

  Tessa’s eyes widened, and she raised her chin off her palm. “Together?”

  His breath constricted in his throat. If she had any discomfort or misgivings about spending time in close proximity with him, she would express it now.

  She clasped her hands and dropped her gaze to study her fingers. At least she was no longer mutilating the hem of her apron.

  He waited.

  Finally she spoke. “Gideon…” Her voice was as soft as an angel’s song. “Your invitation is very kind, but I think I’d best pray alone.”

  Gideon’s shoulders slumped. She was, no doubt, trying to distance herself from him. A wave of self-condemnation crashed over him, but he pushed his disappointment away lest it color the tone of his voice. “That’s all right.” He filled his lungs slowly, deliberately, then released the air. “Tessa, about the other night… I apologize if I frightened you or if my behavior was ungentlemanly.”

  He saw her stiffen, but she didn’t raise her eyes.

  “Forgive me?”

  The tiny shake of her head was so slight he almost missed it.

  No? She didn’t forgive him?

  She lowered her hands to her lap and began worrying the corner of her apron again.

  Indecision gnawed at him. Should he excuse himself and leave? Should he wait to see if she had anything else to say?

  Just as he sought God’s advice, Tessa cleared her throat. “Gideon, you’ve never been anything but a gentleman. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  If his heart could have burst free of his rib cage and taken wing, he’d have cheered it on. A fleeting thought sprinted through his head. Should he make another attempt to kiss her? Maybe not. Not yet, anyway.

  She rose from the table, and he followed suit. “I stopped by the livery this morning and told Cully the stove parts are here. He said he could install them this afternoon, so your stove will be ready later today.”

  Anticipation filled her expression. “That’s nice. Very nice.” The corner of her apron hung twisted like a little girl’s ringlet.

  “We can hang your sign up in the window this afternoon if you’d like.”

  A nervous smile wobbled across her face. “I’d like that very much.”

  He stepped toward the door, but her voice lassoed him. “Gideon?”

  He turned.

  “I’ve never prayed with anyone before. Except Mama. I’m afraid I might not do it right.”

  A slow smile worked its way up from deep within his chest and spread to his face. “Tessa, there’s no wrong way to pray. God just loves hearing from His children. Besides, if our prayers had to line up with a list of rules, I’ve been doing it wrong for years.”

  Tessa’s laugh fell on his ears like music, and she nodded. “Okay, then. Maybe praying together would be all right.” She lifted her fingers in a half wave as he headed toward the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  He almost tripped over the threshold going out the door.

  Tessa dumped bread dough on the floured table and sank her fists into the soft, elastic blob. Methodically she pushed the air bubbles out of the mass, folded it over, and rolled her knuckles through it again and again, until the dough was satiny smooth. After dividing it into four equal parts, she greased the pans with lard and laid a portion of dough in each one.

  Miss Pearl came in the kitchen toting her empty laundry basket on one hip. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is having you here doing the baking.” The woman gave a pleasant sigh and dropped the basket by the door. “It’s kind of nice having a friend in the kitchen, too. Coffee?” She withdrew two cups from the shelf.

  “I just made a fresh pot.” Tessa placed the pans of bread to rise at the back of the stove where warmth still lingered from breakfast. “There are a couple of cinnamon rolls left.”

  “You’re going to spoil me for sure.” Miss Pearl filled the two cups. “I don’t suppose watching my figure is an excuse not to indulge.” She bit into a roll and closed her eyes. “Mmm.”

  Tessa smiled at her landlady and took the seat opposite her. “I can check the laundry on the line for you and bring it in when it’s dry.”

  “That would be a big help. I’m doing all the bedding today. It’s a big job.”

  The steam from Tessa’s cup sent fragrant tendrils wafting by her nose, coaxing her to take a sip. The coffee’s bracing flavor lent her a bit of courage. “Miss Pearl, do you ever wish you had someone to talk to—someone special, someone you loved?”

  Miss Pearl gave her a knowing look. “Missing your mama, are you?”

  Tessa nodded wordlessly.

  The woman took another slow sip of her coffee and set her cup down in front of her. “I’m not your mama, but if you’ve got something troubling on your mind, I’m a good listener.”

  Tessa bit her lip to command the stinging behind her eyelids to quit. She swallowed hard, forcing her emotions into line. Her eyes locked on to the dark liquid in her cup, and she willed her thoughts to fall into the right order so they wouldn’t sound stupid. “Miss Pearl, did anyone ever try to kiss you?”

  A snuffled sound came from Miss Pearl’s side of the table. When Tessa looked up, the woman’s eyes twinkled, her lips pressed together, and the corners of her mouth appeared to have the hiccups.

  Miss Pearl cleared her throat and finally spoke. Her voice reminded Tessa of a tinkling music box. “Well, yes. I remember the first time my Jacob tried to kiss me. We were standing behind an old willow tree where he’d carved our initials. He leaned way over, his eyes all squinched closed and his lips pooched out like a guppy.”

  Tessa tried to paint the picture in her mind, and a smile tugged at her lips. “What happened?”

  “Teacher rang the bell. Recess was over.”

  A laugh bubbled up from Tessa’s middle, releasing the tightness in her chest. “How old were you?”

  A faraway look crept into Miss Pearl’s eyes. “He was eleven, and I was nine. But I knew from that moment he was the man I would marry.”

  “And did you?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Tessa could see memory’s pages turning backward in the woman’s mind. “I was just sixteen. We married and worked side by side together for twenty-six years. Fever took Jacob twelve years ago.” She smiled at Tessa. “Sometimes I can still taste that first kiss.”

  A flutter tickled Tessa’s stomach, and she drew in a soft breath. How sweet would it be to hide a memory that special in one’s heart?

  “So”—Miss Pearl picked up her cup again and eyed Tessa over its rim—“may I assume Gideon kissed you?”

  “No.” She blurted out the reply as a rush of heat filled her face and burned her ears. She gentled her voice. “No—that is, he started to, but. …”

  “But what? Teacher didn’t ring the bell.”

  Tessa blew out a stiff sigh. “I pulled away from him. And I don’t know why.”

  Miss Pearl’s smile crinkled the lines around her eyes. “Maybe you just weren’t ready, child. A girl wants to know a man cares about her here.” She laid a hand over her heart. “And she has to know how she feels about him, too. Do you know how you feel about Gideon?”

  Tessa lifted her shoulders slightly. “I–I’m not sure.”

  “Well, there’s one way to find out for sure.” The woman reached across the table and patted Tessa’s ha
nd. “You talk to God about it. He’ll reveal those feelings to you, so you don’t have to wonder if it’s right or not.”

  Tessa returned Miss Pearl’s smile. “Seems like I have a lot to pray about.”

  “You take it to the Father. You can trust Him, honey girl.”

  Honey girl. She never thought she’d hear those words again. The sweet endearment wrapped around her heart like a warm quilt. The grief she felt at missing her mama suddenly wasn’t quite so sharp.

  Chapter 15

  The reproach on Tessa’s face took Gideon aback.

  “Don’t you like horses?”

  Tessa’s shoulders hunched with a slight shake of her head. “It’s not that…It’s really none of my business.”

  Gideon laid aside the letter from the breeder in Illinois he’d shown her moments ago. Judging by her frown, she didn’t share his enthusiasm. Maybe her stony silence was because she feared she’d no longer have the bakery. “Hey, don’t be concerned about the buyer not wanting to keep the bakery. Business has doubled in the past couple of weeks because you’re here.”

  She fingered the wiggly ridges around the edge of a pie for several long moments. Not meeting his eyes, she pursed her lips before answering. “My father had a good farm in Indiana—at least it could have been a good farm if he’d worked at it. But he sold it and dragged Mama and me out here to chase an illusive dream of getting rich. Mama had been sickly for so long, and traveling was too hard on her. She might still be alive today if we’d stayed put. I don’t understand how a man can throw away a perfectly good means of support for his family in favor of such an uncertain prospect.”

  An invisible fist punched Gideon in the gut. He swallowed the ire rising in his chest only to feel disappointment replace it. For weeks he’d wondered and prayed about Tessa possibly being the woman God had chosen for him. But her disdain of his dream was a bucket of cold water thrown in his face. How could she compare his plans to her father’s drunken irresponsibility?

  “Tessa, this is something I’ve planned for a long time. I’m not entering into this with my eyes shut.” He wished she’d look at him. “There’s a huge need in this area for sturdy, well-bred farm horses.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “But you told me your father started this business and that he supported his family well because of the dependable reputation he built as a merchant. Why would you cast that aside on a gamble?”

  Defensiveness sprang up and grabbed control of his words before he could stop it. “I’m not casting anything aside, and I’m certainly not gambling away my father’s hard work. Being a merchant suited him. He enjoyed the work. I just want something different.” He didn’t add that he’d hoped for her support of his dream. He’d sought God’s guidance in this endeavor for three years and felt assured of the Lord’s approval. But for weeks Tessa’s image had begun entering into that dream as well, and it was an image he didn’t want to dismiss.

  “Mmm. Something sure smells good in here.” Ty Sawyer strolled in the door. “What’s this? You operatin’ a bakery now?”

  Gideon shoved his disconcertment down and greeted his friend. “Hey Ty.”

  Ty stopped short, and his eyes widened at the sight of Tessa in her green gingham apron. He yanked his hat from his head. “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  The silly grin on his friend’s face caused Gideon to grit his teeth, but courtesy demanded he at least make the introduction. “Tessa Langford, Ty Sawyer.”

  Ty swept his hand across his middle and executed a courtly bow. “Miss Tessa, pleased to meet you.”

  Gideon stifled a growl. “What brings you to town again so soon, Ty?”

  Ty leaned against the counter. “I came in to make my loan payment at the bank. But I saw something while I was standing there waiting that I thought you’d be real interested in.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ty took off his neckerchief and wiped the sweatband of his hat. “I’d just stepped up to the window when the clerk asked me to wait for a minute and went into Sewell’s office with a handful of papers. He left the door open, and I could see Kilgore and Behr sittin’ in there with Sewell.” Ty paused like he was waiting for Gideon’s reaction. “I’d give a week’s wages to know what was going on in there, wouldn’t you?”

  Gideon rubbed his chin. “Kilgore and Behr—both in there with Mr. Sewell?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Were they’re doing anything illegal?”

  Ty stuck his hand into the gumdrop jar. “What do you think?”

  “I think I have work to do, and I think you owe me about twenty-five cents now for all the gumdrops you’ve eaten in the past month.” He lifted a crate of sewing notions to the counter and pried off the top.

  “Look, Gideon, if this guy Behr is doing business with Kilgore, you better watch your back.”

  A frown forced Gideon’s brows downward. “I appreciate you telling me about this, Ty, but what can I do? Even if I thought they were doing something illegal, the sheriff isn’t going to do anything since he answers to Kilgore.”

  “Gideon?”

  He’d almost forgotten Tessa was standing there. The stricken look on her face indicated she’d all but forgotten their earlier disagreement.

  “Gideon, I feel terrible. I should have told you sooner about what I overheard.”

  He took a step closer to her, deliberately moving between her and Ty. “Tessa, we don’t even know what they’re up to yet. It could be something completely legitimate.”

  “Pfft.” Ty grunted. “You really believe that?”

  Gideon shrugged. “Truthfully, no. But until we can prove otherwise, all we can do is wait and see.”

  Ty shrugged. “Suppose you’re right.” He turned and bestowed a huge smile on Tessa. “Miss Tessa, there’s gonna be a barn dance next Saturday night over at the Johnson place. I’d be pleased to escort you.”

  Gideon’s insides twisted. He sucked in a breath and shot daggers at the guy who was supposed to be his best friend. But Ty seemed oblivious, standing there twisting his hat, waiting for Tessa’s reply.

  No, Tessa. Tell him no.

  Tessa’s lashes dropped to her cheeks in a demure pose as a tiny smile curved her lips. “Why, Mr. Sawyer, that’s so kind of you to ask.”

  If one could chew his own teeth, Gideon gave it his best effort.

  A ridiculous-sounding chuckle came from Ty’s direction, and Gideon suppressed the urge to throw the jar of gumdrops at him. As soon as Ty leaves, I’m going to ask you myself, Tessa, so just tell him no.

  She gave Ty a sweet smile. “Martha was telling me about the barn dance just yesterday. I’m sorry, but I’ve already made plans to attend with someone else.”

  Ty’s grin drooped, and he shuffled his feet for a moment. “Oh. Well, maybe I’ll see you there.” He plopped his hat back on his head and lifted a hand in good-bye.

  Gideon barely acknowledged Ty’s leaving. Instead his eyes followed Tessa as she turned toward the storeroom. Who had already asked her to the barn dance? “Tessa?”

  Tessa turned in the doorway. “Yes?”

  “Um, about the barn dance …”

  “Gideon, if you don’t mind, could we talk later? I need to get these pies in the oven, and the heat is just right.”

  His head bounced up and down. “Oh, sure. You go right ahead. Don’t let me keep you.”

  The courage to inquire about the man with whom Tessa planned to attend the barn dance eluded Gideon for days. He’d managed to initiate topics about almost everything else, but he couldn’t bring himself to speculate on the identity of the man who would hold Tessa in his arms and waltz her across the barn floor. Perhaps it didn’t matter, since Tessa’s opinion of his dream still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  The bell on the door jingled.

  Gideon looked up to greet his customer, but the words stuck in his throat. He’d mulled over the information Ty gave him several days ago, as well as the conversation Tessa had overheard, but
came to no conclusions.

  Now Hubert Behr entered the store wearing the same dignified expression he’d worn the first day Gideon met him. “A pleasant afternoon to you, young fellow. Might I have a word with you?”

  Warning signals shot through Gideon’s head. “Good afternoon, Mr. Behr. How may I help you today?”

  Behr cleared his throat. “First off, I must apologize for the delay in getting back to you. My business here has taken a bit longer than I expected. I do hope the mercantile is still available for purchase.”

  Gideon glanced in Tessa’s direction and saw a frown flit across her face at the mention of selling the mercantile. With Ty’s information in mind, Gideon exercised caution before replying. “I thought you might leave Willow Creek as soon as your business was finished.”

  One thick eyebrow lifted slightly as Behr silently questioned Gideon’s response. “No, I’m not planning to leave anytime soon. I would like to make an offer on your place, but it will take at least a couple of weeks before I can finalize any plans.” The man named a figure that matched Gideon’s original asking price.

  Gideon studied Behr’s face, searching for signs of deceit or corruption. “Sir, if I might be so bold, may I speak frankly?”

  Behr nodded. “Of course, young man. What’s on your mind?”

  The store was empty at the moment, but the presence of Tessa’s Bakery had increased the number of customers coming and going, and Gideon didn’t want to be interrupted. He spoke quietly and quickly. “Mr. Behr, you seemed like a decent sort when you first arrived. But I must say I’ve been more than a bit concerned to see you in the company of Henry Kilgore numerous times. I apologize if I’m out of line, but I feel I should warn you. You would do well to be careful in dealing with Mr. Kilgore.”

  Hubert Behr’s gray eyes narrowed and scrutinized Gideon for a long minute. Just when Gideon was certain he’d not only overstepped his bounds but probably also ruined any chance of selling the mercantile, Behr finally spoke. “Young man, you seem to know more than you are letting on, so let me caution you. Employ discretion before proceeding.”

 

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