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

by Miralee Ferrell

  He stared at her, then slowly shook his head.

  “I did not think so. More is the pity that some men were not taught any manners as children.” She stepped closer and motioned at his arm. “I am sorry your arm is giving you such trouble, Mr. Pape.”

  “Why do you have to keep callin’ me ‘mister’? I’m guessin’ we’re both of an age, so it’s not like you’re talkin’ to an older gent. Nobody calls me Mr. Pape. Everyone calls me Charlie, other than Leah. Can’t you say Charlie?”

  Frances rolled her eyes. “Did you fall on your head as well as your arm? I am a lady, Mr. Pape, and I am not accustomed to calling a strange man by his Christian name. Besides, why should it bother you so much? We are not liable to form any type of friendship, so it will not be an issue for long.”

  His shoulders slumped, and his eyes darted to the side.

  Frances stared, certain she had seen a glimmer of disappointment and … what? Sadness had surely been reflected there before Mr. Pape had shifted his gaze. Could the man actually want a friend, as she had when Wilma chose to befriend her, in spite of her prickliness? Maybe she should test the waters before shutting the door entirely to the idea. “Or are we?”

  His head jerked around. “Are we what? I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about. And I’ll have you know, my head is fine.”

  “I think you do know, Mr. Pape. I was referring to the comment I made that we are not liable to form any kind of friendship. I believe in being blunt and speaking the truth, but I may have spoken too soon.”

  She tapped the toe of her shoe again. “Is your request that I use your Christian name an indication you would like me to visit again? If so, I would insist you watch your language and converse with the respect and dignity I am sure a man of your age and station can muster.”

  His words came out in a sputter before he formed anything intelligible. “My station? What in tarna—” A wave of pure frustration washed over his features. “I got no idea what you’re yammerin’ about, woman.”

  “Your station is your place in society. You are the owner of a large ranch and, I would assume, respected in the community.” Her gaze intensified. “Or at least, I would think you might have been at one time in the past, before you took up with the cursed bottle. A man of your station should care how others perceive him. And if you want to completely ignore my original question, then so be it. I will not remain where I am not wanted. Good day, sir. I hope you enjoy the apple dumplings. Please give my regards to Millie and Leah.”

  She planted the tip of her boot on the floor and pivoted toward the door. The man was too mule-headed to listen to anything she had to say, no matter if it was designed to help elevate him in the community or in his own estimation. She would wash her hands of any efforts to reach out to him and make her way home.

  “Wait.” The word was almost a growl, but clear and distinct.

  Frances hesitated, then slowly turned. “Yes, Mr. Pape?”

  He winced but didn’t squabble this time. “All right. You win. The fellas at the saloon respect me well enough, but most of them are idiots. I suppose it might be nice to carry on a decent conversation with a lady occasionally. If I promise to watch my language—or try to watch it—would you call me Charlie? ’Course, you could visit one more time if you’d have a mind to, but it’s all the same either way.”

  She peered at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He intrigued her. She had already been surprised twice while conversing with the man. It might be worth the effort to befriend him and see if there were more depths to be plumbed. “I suppose I could stop by one more time while you are recuperating, but I will not call you Charlie.”

  His face scrunched into a scowl.

  She held up her hand. “Before you launch into some rambling harangue that you might regret, allow me to finish. I agree to call you Charles, and that will have to suffice. I am not in the habit of calling men, even friends, by their Christian names, but I will do so when visiting you during your convalescence. For that is what I will be doing, Charles—coming to offer comfort and companionship while you are unable to work. And I will come a third time and possibly a fourth, if all goes well.”

  Charles’s eyes lit. “Can’t make any promises about bein’ a perfect gentleman, ma’am, but I’ll surely work on it.” He cocked his head to the side. “So what do you want me to call you?”

  Frances startled and blinked. It had never occurred to her that he might want to call her anything but her surname. “Why, Mrs. Cooper, of course.”

  “So you don’t claim a Christian name?” His smirk belied his innocent question. “Or maybe you think you’re too good for the likes of me.” The question was flat, almost without emotion, and he turned his head away.

  “Not at all, Charles. I am sorry if it appears that way. But I think those types of liberties must be earned. You are the one insisting I call you Charles. I did not request that privilege, if you recall. Let us see what happens as time passes, shall we? And as you already know, my name is Frances.”

  He nodded. “All right, Mrs. Cooper. I’ll abide by your terms, and we’ll see how this thing goes. Now let’s shake on it to seal the bargain.” He wiped his hand on the front of his trousers and grinned, then extended it again. “And I didn’t so much as spit on it before I offered to shake. Shows I’m tryin’, don’t it?”

  She rolled her eyes but took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “That will remain to be seen, Charles; that truly remains to be seen.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  May 4, 1881

  Leah walked briskly up the path to the church, thankful this was quilting day, but battling guilt for deserting her family with so much turmoil going on at home. She eased inside the door, letting the gentle tranquility wash over her spirit.

  Ever since Tom had arrived at the ranch, her nerves had been jumpy. Leah knew if she had stayed there trying to keep the peace between her father and brother for one more hour, she’d have happily throttled them both.

  She walked the width of the sanctuary and entered the side room, glad everyone had arrived. Leah smiled as each expectant face turned in her direction. “Hello, ladies.” She hung her shawl on a peg behind the door, then stood, drinking in the sight of her dearest friends, along with an infrequent visitor, Wilma Marshall. “How nice to see you, Mrs. Marshall.”

  The woman looked up from her work. “Frances told me I need to get out more, but I think she’s just lonely for my company since I married Caleb.”

  Frances scowled. “You think too highly of yourself, my dear. Lonely, indeed. Why, I have plenty to keep me busy with Amanda, Lucy, and Zachary, as well as helping with the household chores since Katherine is resting more.”

  Wilma rolled her eyes. “That’s what you say, but we both know the truth.”

  Katherine smiled. “This is what I get to hear every day at home.” She shot a look at her mother and Wilma, working side by side on the quilt. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  Leah walked toward Katherine. “I’m surprised to see you. It looks like that baby could arrive any day.”

  “I wish. The doctor says it could be another week or two.” Katherine rubbed her protruding abdomen. “I wouldn’t be opposed to an earlier arrival, though, if she’s eager to join us.”

  “Still claiming it’s a girl, hmm?” Leah grinned. “I’m voting with your mother that it’s a boy.”

  Frances snorted her approval from the far side of the quilting frame. “Exactly what I have been trying to tell her. I think my daughter is simply unwilling to get her hopes up that she might have a son.”

  Katherine sighed. “At this point I won’t be disappointed no matter what. I’m more than ready to meet this little one.”

  Ella shifted Missy to her hip. “As long as it’s healthy, that’s what matters. Missy is sleepin’ through the night now. Matt and me are so grateful.”

 
Hester Sue nodded. “That’s right.” She plunged her needle through the quilt fabric before glancing up. “Speaking of staying healthy, we need to pray for Virginia. She’s been fighting a cold for the past couple of weeks and feeling right poorly.”

  Leah moved to her place beside the quilting frame. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll try to run by and see her one day this week, if you think she’s up to it?”

  “I’m guessing she’d be mighty pleased ta have the company. I took her a pot of stew the other day and some baked goods. She thought she might try to come today, but I told her she’d best stay home and rest. Neither Katherine nor Missy should be around someone what’s sick.”

  Katherine got awkwardly to her feet and shuffled to a stool beside Leah. “I’ll work for a few minutes, but if this little one starts kicking too hard, I might stop. I’ve had more energy today, but my back’s been aching more than normal.”

  Hester Sue peered at Leah from the far end of the quilt. “Heard tell your brother came home. How’s your pa taking it, and how you holding up?”

  A lump formed in Leah’s throat at the sympathetic tone. “Pa’s not any happier about it now than he was the day Tom returned. I try to stay clear of both of them, but it’s not easy.” She ran her needle through a brightly colored square and started to edge it. How much should she say? She trusted these women completely, but would it dishonor her father to speak her concerns? It had been so hard these past few days, not having anyone to talk to. Millie would understand, she was sure of it, but she didn’t want to put the older woman in the middle.

  “Can I ask you all a question?”

  Heads nodded. Frances broke the silence. “Of course, we cannot promise to have all the answers, but we will certainly listen.”

  Leah smiled, suddenly glad that Katherine’s mother had joined their quilting group. The woman could be stern and opinionated, but she had a caring heart. “That’s more than enough, although I wouldn’t mind if you pray for the situation as well. I’m wondering if any of you knew my mother well?”

  Frances pursed her lips. “I cannot help you there. Wilma and I both arrived in town within the past year.” She directed her attention to the rest of the group. “Ella, you’re too young to have known her well, but, Hester Sue, you’ve been in Baker City the longest. Were the two of you friends?”

  Hester Sue shook her head. “Sorry to say, we weren’t. I seen her at church from time to time, but we weren’t friendly. Virginia was, though. I think she and your ma spent time together once in a while. What you hoping to find out, hon?”

  Leah sucked in air, needing to fortify herself. She wasn’t even sure she should tell these friends, but the pressure of bearing so much alone had become too hard to handle. “Tom claims Ma didn’t die when Pa said she did.” There. Relief flooded her heart. The words were out, even if they had almost choked her to speak them.

  Wilma snipped off another length of thread and held her needle up to the light, squinting at the tiny hole. “You mean he got the date wrong?”

  “No. Pa told me and Tom nine years ago that Ma died, and that she’s buried up on the knoll behind our house. Tom says that’s not true, and she died just before last Christmas.”

  Stunned silence blanketed the room, and all eyes fixed on Leah. She moistened her lips and waited, unsure what else she should add.

  Frances took off her thimble and tossed it into the nearby basket, her hands trembling. “And how would your brother know this?”

  “He’s been living with her since he ran away from the ranch six years ago—or so he says.”

  Katherine touched Leah’s arm, and concern shone from her eyes. “Do you believe him? Is there a chance he’s lying? And if not, why would your father lie to you all these years?”

  Leah pushed the pain aside, not willing to give in to the emotions assaulting her. “I’m not sure. Tom hints at Pa driving Ma away, then keeping it hidden because of his pride. I’m not sure what to think.”

  Her friend gave her a hug. “Did you ask your father about it?”

  “He refuses to discuss it. When I tried, he got angry and stomped out of the house. That’s why I hoped one of you might have known her well and be able to tell me more.”

  Frances tapped her toe, making a soft clicking noise. “I’ve noticed your father’s pride often manifests itself in boastful talking. Are you certain your brother is telling the truth? It is hard to believe your father would tell you an outright lie.”

  Leah threw up her hands. “At this point I’m not certain about much of anything, but I want to know what happened. It’s so hard not knowing if Ma deserted us and lured Tom away—and, if so, why Pa kept it a secret.”

  Frances looked thoughtful. “Might he have been hoping to protect you from the pain of learning the truth?”

  “I wish I knew, Mrs. Cooper. He won’t answer any questions.”

  “You oughta talk to Virginia,” Hester Sue urged her kindly. “I can’t say for sure, but she probably knows more than the rest of us.”

  Leah poked her needle into the fabric and left it there. “Good idea. Maybe I’ll stop by on the way home and see if she feels well enough to chat. I’m not sure I want to go home and face Tom and Pa without a better understanding of what’s going on.”

  Katherine suddenly clutched Leah’s arm and gasped. Her grip tightened. “Oh dear.” Her other hand pressed itself low to her belly, and she moaned.

  Leah wrapped her arm around Katherine’s shoulders, her heart racing. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Do you need the doctor?”

  Katherine nodded. “I guess I should have stayed home today. I think this baby has decided she’s going to make an appearance sooner than I expected.”

  Leah walked down the hall of the first floor of Katherine’s boardinghouse, tired but incredibly happy. She’d witnessed the birth of dozens of calves and colts over the years, but that paled in comparison to the miracle of the birth of Katherine and Micah’s baby. Of course, Katherine and the doctor did all of the work, but Leah had toted water basins and towels and been available for whatever the doctor might need.

  Longing swept her as she continued to hear Micah’s quiet voice murmuring words of affection to his wife. The look of joy and love on the man’s face when he’d stepped into the room all but caved Leah’s resolve not to cry.

  She yearned for that kind of tenderness, and maybe even a child of her own one day. An image of Steven’s caring eyes swam before her blurred vision, and she curled her fingers into her palm. What she wouldn’t give to have him look at her the same way Micah looked at Katherine.

  But why would he? All she’d done was to show him her bristly side since he’d arrived at the ranch, and now she knew exactly what caused her to do so. The trust on Katherine’s face when she looked at Micah was absolute. She knew without a doubt that her husband would always be there for her—would cherish her and care for her no matter what came their way.

  With all the turmoil hitting Leah these past few weeks—coming from her father, and then her brother, and now discovering her own mother might have betrayed her—she didn’t feel as though she could fully trust anyone ever again.

  With a mighty effort she shook free of the depressing thoughts and pasted on a pleasant expression, determined to drive Steven from her mind. Even if he were interested in her, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to step into the muddle her life had become.

  As she halted in the doorway of the parlor, a sea of faces turned her way. Katherine and Micah’s three children, Lucy, Mandy, and Zachary, along with Wilma and Caleb Marshall and Beth and Jeffery Tucker, all moved toward her at once. She held up a hand and smiled. “Hold on. I don’t have much energy left, and I don’t care to be trampled. If you’ll all sit down, I’ll answer your questions.”

  Mandy tugged on her skirt and looked up with wide eyes. “Do I have a baby sister? When can I hold her?”

 
Lucy reached out and drew her sister onto her lap. “Shh, let Miss Carlson talk.”

  Leah smiled at the eager young faces. “You’ll get to hold your baby brother instead, Mandy. Is that all right?”

  A whoop exploded from Zachary as he shot to his feet. “I have a brother! Pa and I won’t have to be the only men in the family anymore.”

  Lucy glared at him. “And what exactly is wrong with women?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, but Leah shook her head. “Hold it, you two. How about being happy the baby is here, and he and your ma are healthy? As far as when you can hold him, that will be up to your parents.” She glanced around the room. “I can tell you that he has a bit of blond fluff for hair, his face is red, and he’s about yea long.” She held her hands apart about the width of her shoulders. “He’s strong and has a good set of lungs, and your mother is feeding him. But we’ll all need to be quiet so your mother can rest.”

  Wilma nodded. “I agree. Beth, Lucy, and I will take care of preparing the meal. I know we pay to live here, but Katherine will want Frances and Mr. Jacobs with her for the next few hours.” She raised her brows at the two young women. “Shall we head to the kitchen, girls?”

  Lucy set Mandy off her lap and stood. “Sure, but I’m going upstairs first to see if Pa will bring the baby to the door so we can see him.” She looked at Zachary and her little sister. “I’ll call you if he says it’s all right.”

  Zachary spun toward Leah. “What’s his name?”

  Leah shook her head. “They need to tell you that, not me.” She stood in the parlor as each person headed in various directions. A sense of loss replaced the earlier excitement. This wasn’t her home or her family. Hers were all at the ranch, probably still bickering or, worse yet, refusing to talk to one another.

  As happy as she was for Katherine and Micah, she longed for a husband and child of her own. Ever since her mother had died—or left, as the case may be—Leah had poured her heart and life into the ranch. Seeing Katherine holding her new baby boy only emphasized Leah’s loneliness.