Dreaming on Daisies: A Novel (Love Blossoms in Oregon Series Book 3)

by Miralee Ferrell

  Leah kicked a rock out of the way. “I’m not sure what to believe. All these years of being so certain of facts—it’s a lot to take in.” Her gaze traveled to Steven’s hands, remembering the seconds before she’d opened her eyes in the bunkhouse. She had felt his light touch as he’d brushed a strand of hair from her face, but she’d kept her eyes closed for several long heartbeats, trying to control her breathing.

  No man had ever touched her with such tenderness, and no man had ever stirred her senses the way Steven did. Strange that this was the first thing she thought of, rather than the gibberish her brother spewed.

  She wrenched her thoughts away. This was no time for sentimental foolishness, no matter how kind and handsome the man.

  What would have made Tom say all those things? Leah wanted to believe it was all a lie. She had even accused Tom of purposely causing trouble in their family. But hearing Steven voice the question made her reconsider.

  She’d never known her brother to deliberately lie, but she hadn’t seen him for six years. A lot could change in that time. He’d grown from a boy to a man, and she suddenly realized she didn’t have an inkling what kind of man he’d become.

  “You asked if my brother might have lied. Honestly, it would be so much easier to believe that than to accept what he had to say. But no matter what, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “I hope you won’t be offended if I ask, but you believed your mother died when you were fourteen?”

  Sadness mingled with bitterness, and she nodded. “There’s a grave site up on a knoll with her name on a marker. I’ve sat there for hours and hours these past nine years. I can’t believe it’s all been a lie.”

  Steven walked silently beside her, his presence bringing a quiet comfort.

  “I shouldn’t burden you with this. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not a burden. I wish I could help in some way.” He waited for her to precede him up the porch steps to the house.

  “It’s been a help having someone else to talk to.” She mustered a smile. “Now we need to find something to eat and see if I can talk some sense into my brother before he wreaks havoc with Pa.”

  Tom wilted under the weight of the heavy rucksack. Why hadn’t he taken the time to fill his canteen from the springhouse before stomping away from the ranch? Or, better yet, he should have put aside his guilt-ridden feelings and stormed to the house to confront his father. It shouldn’t surprise him that the man had continued feeding Leah a lie all these years.

  But something else hurt almost as much. His sister had called him a liar. He’d hoped she, at least, would be happy to see him and understand what he’d been through. That she might stand beside him and put the ghosts of their past to rest. Anger drove spiked tendrils deeper into his heart. He didn’t need her. In fact, he didn’t need anybody. Even when he lived with Ma, he’d still been second-best. She’d spent so much of her time talking about Leah that Ma barely noticed him.

  And all those letters. His gut twisted in shame. He needed to hold on to his anger. Feed it so he’d remember that Leah came first in everyone’s life, and he hadn’t mattered.

  Leah. Always the perfect daughter who could do no wrong. He’d often wondered what the real reason was that Ma had left Leah behind. Every time he’d tried to ask she’d shut him up or changed the subject, as though she had something to hide. Was it possible there was more than her guilt over abandoning her firstborn? And why hadn’t she returned to the ranch to get Leah if it troubled her so?

  After she’d extracted the promise from him, she’d mumbled a few words he couldn’t quite catch—words that didn’t make sense no matter what direction he turned them. “Don’t forget … Leah … box …”

  It wasn’t possible she could know about the box of letters he’d hidden. His heart felt as though it had shriveled inside his chest. He’d been so careful to keep them hidden. The one time he’d caught her starting to sweep under his bed he’d asked that she never enter his bedroom again. A man needed his privacy. He hadn’t quit shaking for hours after she’d left.

  A resonating bark somewhere behind him slowed Tom’s steps. Rusty hadn’t been even two years old when Tom had left for Portland, but he’d hoped the dog would remember him. Funny that he’d felt such a sense of loss and almost betrayal when the dog had growled at his arrival. No one cared that he’d returned home.

  It would’ve been better to stay in the city and shut the door on this life completely. But that wouldn’t satisfy his need. Only returning and making Pa see that he mattered would do that.

  His gut twisted yet again as more memories rushed in. But these went farther back, to a time when life was uncomplicated and their family intact. To a time when he still believed in loyalty and love. He pushed them away, annoyed that his brief contact with his sister would raise so many tender emotions.

  Another bark, closer this time, brought him to a stop. Slowly Tom pivoted, his heart thumping. Rusty stood a few yards away, poised and attentive, his head cocked to one side.

  Tom placed his bag carefully on the ground, not wanting to startle the dog. He puckered his lips and gave a soft whistle, two short and one long, a signal he’d taught the pup over six years ago. “Rusty? Don’t you remember me, boy?” Once more, he tried the whistle, and the dog’s tail moved, then started to wag with a vengeance. “Come on, Rusty.” Tom patted his thigh and whistled again.

  The dog bolted forward and leaped at Tom, his body quivering. Rusty jumped up and placed his paws on Tom’s chest, then licked his face.

  “All right, all right. Down, boy.” Tom chortled with joy, his hands shaking as he dug them deep into the dog’s fur. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

  He looked at his bag and then back toward the house, far enough down the road to only be a speck in the distance. “I can’t believe you trailed me all the way out here. What do I do now?”

  Rusty whined and trotted toward the ranch, then stopped and looked back, ears on the alert. He whined again and took another step, then gave a gentle yip.

  Tom grimaced and shook his head. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, fella. You’re the only one who wants me there. I was going to stay in town.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills, then shoved them back into his trousers. “Although I’m not crazy about wasting what little money I have on a hotel when I have a perfectly good room at the house.”

  He emitted a sharp laugh. “Although I can’t see anyone chomping at the bit to offer it to me.” He moved forward and stroked Rusty’s head, trying to muster a smile. “All right. Let’s go home—or at least, let’s go visit what used to be home.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leah set her empty milk glass on the table, content with the sandwiches and canned applesauce Millie had served, but still mystified at where her brother might have gone. “Thanks so much, Millie. I appreciate you putting something together for Steven and me.”

  “Anytime. I already fed Buddy and Charlie. I’ve got fresh gingerbread hot out of the oven. Soon as Buddy gets here, I’ll serve it.” She stepped to the window and pushed aside the curtains, then lowered her voice. “I’m sorrowin’ that Tom hasn’t come to the house yet. What do you think is keepin’ him?” She shot a look toward the stairwell. “You told your pa about Tom?”

  Leah shook her head. She didn’t blame Millie for whispering. She was almost ashamed of the relief she’d felt when they’d walked in and discovered her brother hadn’t arrived. “I figured Tom would let Pa know, and I wouldn’t need to. I haven’t seen Pa for the last few hours. How’s his arm doing? Still paining him a lot?”

  Millie nodded. “Don’t seem to be much better. I wonder if that doc set it proper.” She turned to Steven. “You get enough to eat, Mr. Harding?”

  Steven leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Plenty, Millie. And please call me Steven. I get enough of that Mr. Harding business at the
bank. It’s nice to be less formal out here.”

  “Sure enough works for me.” She removed the plates and glasses from the table and set them next to the sink.

  Footsteps thudded down the inner staircase at the same time someone tapped at the front door. Leah stiffened, then bolted from her seat and raced down the hall. She had to get to the door ahead of her father. The hinges creaked as the door opened. She froze a few steps from the base of the staircase, waiting for the roar she knew was coming.

  “What in tarnation!” Her father’s bellow from several feet behind Leah filled the house and sent a shiver down her spine. “What you doin’ here, boy?”

  “Hello, Pa. Happy to see me?” Tom’s booming voice echoed through the house.

  Millie let out a shriek. “Thomas Pape! Is that you, boy? Let me get my hands on you.”

  Leah stopped at the edge of the entry, sensing Steven behind her. Millie dashed past them, tears rolling down her weathered cheeks. She skidded to a halt.

  Tom turned his gaze from his father, and his frown evolved into a wide grin. “Millie! Do I get a hug?”

  She huffed. “Now that you tax me about it, I’m not so sure if I’m goin’ to hug you or spank you.” She looked him up and down, and her face softened. “Guess you’re too big to spank, so it’ll have to be a hug.” Opening her arms wide, she stepped forward, and Tom almost flew into them.

  Leah swallowed a hard knot in her throat before glancing at her father. Not a scrap of delight on his face. If anything, the glower deepened.

  Steven touched her shoulder, and Leah jumped. “Sorry to startle you. It’s nice to see Millie give him such a welcome.”

  Leah pivoted and tried not to glare. “You’re implying I didn’t?” She ground the words out between clenched teeth.

  “I’m not saying anything of the kind,” he murmured. “It’s obvious your father isn’t too happy, and I know your brother has been contrary. I’m simply glad to see Millie happy he’s here.”

  Leah tried to relax as irritation prickled her skin. “If you’ll remember, I tried to give him the same welcome, but he couldn’t bother to receive it.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, not caring to have Pa hear. “I have no idea why he’s so standoffish with me. But I’ll admit Millie always had a special place in her heart for Tom. She attended my mother at his birth.”

  Apprehensive, she peered at her silent father. Pa was even more dangerous when quiet than when he roared. Reaching out, she tugged at his sleeve. “Pa? Want to come in the kitchen for coffee?”

  He shook her hand off. “When Millie’s done blubberin’, I’ll speak my mind.”

  Millie’s head turned, and she swiped at her damp cheeks with the corner of her apron. “I’m not blubberin’, Charlie Pape. I got the right to spill a few tears over the prodigal son comin’ home, don’t I?”

  Charlie cradled his arm in the sling. “He ain’t no prodigal returnin’ home. And don’t you go gettin’ any notions about killin’ a calf and fixin’ up a fancy meal.”

  Millie cocked a brow. “You know about the prodigal son? I didn’t think you ever read the Bible.”

  “Of course I do. I ain’t a complete heathen, if you all think I am. But it don’t matter, ’cause I ain’t plannin’ on changin’ my mind.”

  Their cook scowled. “It’s your calf, so I guess I got no say in whether you want to butcher one or not. But it’s my kitchen, and I’ve got hot coffee perkin’. No sense in the entire family standin’ here when we could sit.”

  She motioned toward the back of the house. “Come on.” She pivoted and clomped down the hall.

  Mirth welled from the pit of Leah’s stomach, but she knew better than to let it escape. Millie was the only person she knew who could stand up to Pa like this and get away with it. But Pa was in no mood to be trifled with. She could only pray he’d come to his senses and allow Tom to stay.

  Strange that she’d feel that way after all the things Tom spouted earlier. She didn’t doubt that Ma was dead, but she still couldn’t believe what he’d said. But one thing she knew. She planned to learn the truth now that he was home, and not even Pa would stop her.

  Steven edged toward the door. It was time he got out of here and back to the bunkhouse. He gripped the knob and inched open the door, hoping Leah wouldn’t try to stop him. Stepping outside, he almost collided with Buddy. He attempted to sidestep, but the older man grabbed his arm.

  “Hold on there, son. What’s the hurry? Thought I saw someone coming up the lane with a bag slung across his back, but my old eyes aren’t what they used to be. He stop at the house?”

  Steven nodded. “He did, at that, and your wife informed everyone they should come to the kitchen for coffee.”

  Buddy peered at him. “Then why you slipping away instead of joining us? And who was the feller?”

  “It was Tom Pape, Leah’s brother.”

  Buddy jerked as if shot. “I know who Tom is. You say he came home?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That don’t answer why you’re leaving.” Buddy clamped a firm grip on Steven’s elbow and propelled him across the threshold and into the entry, then drew the door shut behind him.

  “Guess I figured this is time for the family to get reacquainted,” Steven hedged. “I’m not family.”

  “Sure you are. You live here, eat your meals with us, and work side by side with us when you aren’t at the bank. That makes you family. If Millie said everyone should come for coffee, that includes you. Let’s go.”

  Steven wasn’t sure if he should duck out of the man’s grip and dash for the door or go quietly into what he knew had the potential to be a difficult scene. All of a sudden, he knew. How could he abandon Leah after she’d collapsed in his arms less than an hour ago, especially after he’d seen her expression of horror as her father had bellowed at Tom? “All right. Another cup of coffee sounds good.”

  They trekked down the hall and paused in the doorway to the roomy kitchen, which held a round table and six chairs off to the side. The larger dining table was in the next room, but Millie often served the meals or snacks and coffee here when the group was small. Leah, Tom, and Charlie all sat at the table, avoiding one another’s gaze, while Millie puttered between the stove and the table, carrying over mugs of steaming coffee.

  Leah swiveled in her chair, her face showing relief. “Buddy, Steven, come take a seat. Millie’s got fresh gingerbread.”

  Charlie glared at the two of them. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  Buddy grunted as he dropped into the chair. “’Course we do, but a man’s got to take a break once in a while. I’m not passing up Millie’s gingerbread. Besides, I wanted to say howdy to young Tom.” He leaned across the table with his hand extended and his face solemn. “You’ve grown up some, young man.”

  Tom hesitated, then reached across and gripped Buddy’s hand. “I suppose I have. Good to see you, Buddy.”

  “Same to you. What brings you home after six years? Or have you already hashed that out?”

  Charlie thumped his palm on the table, making the coffee mugs rattle. “Nothin’s been hashed out.” He leveled his glare on Tom. “What you got to say for yourself, troopin’ in like you belonged here?”

  Steven winced at the harsh tone and cold words. Both his own father and his stepfather had been kind men, and it was hard to imagine what Tom must be feeling. Steven glanced at Leah, but she had her eyes fixed on her father.

  Millie thumped a pitcher of cream down and sat. “I say we pray before we speak another ornery word.”

  Steven blinked at the blunt pronouncement, then hid a smile with his hand. He bowed his head but noticed Charlie still had his eyes open, shooting baleful looks at his son. Steven offered a silent prayer that God would bring reconciliation to this broken family.

  After several moments Charlie cleared his throat. “All right, enough of this foo
lishness. It’s not like we’re eatin’ a meal and need to bless it. Millie’s gingerbread is good without a blessing.”

  Steven raised his head and met Leah’s eyes. He gave her an encouraging smile, wondering what might be going through her mind. An answering smile flickered for an instant. If only there was something he could do to comfort her and help bring good out of this situation.

  Millie hoisted the pitcher of cream. “It’s fresh from the cow this mornin’, and we got plenty, so help yourself.”

  The next several minutes passed in silence as the gingerbread was consumed and coffee was sipped. Steven didn’t sense a hint of peace or comradeship settling over the family, but he wasn’t going to try to escape again. Leah and Millie deserved that much. He planned to stay and ride this out whatever might come. And from the anger on Charlie’s face and his untouched plate, he guessed that a storm was brewing.

  “Let’s have it. What you want comin’ back here, boy?” Charlie settled stiffly back against his chair.

  Tom shrugged and didn’t meet his father’s eyes. “Guess I figured I’ve been gone long enough.”

  “I’ll say you have, but I didn’t invite you. You figurin’ on stayin’ in town while you’re here?”

  “Pa!” Leah gaped at the man. “How can you suggest that?”

  “Easy enough. Tom didn’t give a fig what it would do to anyone when he took off. He did it without so much as a by-your-leave. I won’t have him think he can waltz in like he ain’t never been gone.”

  “But he’s your son and my brother.”

  “He was once. He chucked his life here like it weren’t any account. That don’t set well with me, and it shouldn’t with you, neither. That’s not what family does, Daughter.”