“They’re good. I let them graze most mornings. The soil’s in good shape and I sharpened the plough again. That always makes quite a difference.”
“Don’t your horses run away?” the child asked.
Shane glanced down at Betsy’s big-eyed gaze. “I hobble them.”
“Oh.” She took a slow spoonful of mashed potatoes from her plate and placed it in her mouth.
“There’s a barn dance at the end of the month.” All eyes turned to Annie. “I guess most people will be finished planting. It’s at the Williams’ place. You playing, Grandpa?”
Dad nodded. “Probably.” The usual musical group from the surrounding farms included Dad on his accordion, a couple of other men on guitars and the church organist who played fiddle.
Shane cut a piece of chicken and forked it into his mouth as he pondered the barn dance. He’d like to go. The question was—could he get Emily Waddell to go with him?
CHAPTER 2~TOWN
It rained all night, and the next day the horses could barely pull the plough through the muck. Shane got his slicker and headed to town on the back of Clyde, his lead horse. He’d been wanting to go there for a while. It was only a three-hour ride when the weather cooperated, but once the snow melted and the ground thawed, there was too much to do on the farm and he hadn’t been able to take the time.
Emily Waddell lived in town. He’d only met her formally once, at a church service, but he’d seen her a few times, most noticeably at the funeral late last winter for her father and older brother. That had been a terrible time, and she’d been clearly overwrought by the tragic event.
Shane desperately wanted to meet her again now that things had normalized a bit. He’d heard she was staying with the Arnolds at the general store and planned to see for himself if that was true. A single girl as beautiful as this one wouldn’t stay single for long in these parts.
He arrived in town early afternoon, and tied his horse to the hitching rail. The raised wooden sidewalk built in front of the half-dozen commercial establishments ensured the ladies didn’t have to walk in the mud as they shopped. The general store carried most dry goods and hosted the post office. A feed store was situated next to it. There was a small barn at the edge of the village where a primary school had been started last fall, open half-days. But a new school building was in the works which should be finished this summer—two rooms with a teacherage attached. The goal was to attract an educator from back east, someone who could impart their knowledge to the kids. There was a large handful of children ready for learning, not least Joe’s three eldest.
When Shane entered the store, a bell tinkled loudly above his head. The door behind the counter immediately opened and Emily emerged from the back. She was slender and rounded, about as tall as his shoulder he figured. Her dark hair curled around her face and was secured on top of her head in a bun. She had dusky skin, Black Irish he’d heard. Her father and brother had both had that handsome swarthy complexion.
She stepped behind the counter and smiled. Those large dark eyes stared into his. “Faith, and can I help you, sor?” she asked in a lilting Irish voice.
“I hope so.” Smiling, he extended his hand. “My name is Shane Narraway, I live east of town.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, shaking his hand as her cheeks turned rosy. “I’ve heard your name before. There are quite a few Narraways, I think.”
“Yeah. Too many, some would say.”
She laughed and a tiny dimple appeared at the side of her mouth.
He tried not to stare. “Is there some mail?”
“Yes, sor.” She moved to the next counter and sorted through the cubbyholes on the back wall, turning with a stack of envelopes in her hand. “Will ye take it all?” she asked.
“I’ll take everything.” He glanced down and saw a letter addressed to Mum from his older sister back east. That was reassuring. Mother had been fretting, not having heard from Hannah for more than a month.
Emily returned to the sales counter and he moved over to continue their conversation just as the back door opened again and Mr. Arnold stepped through. “I’ll look after Mr. Narraway,” he said to the girl. “Mrs. Arnold needs you right now, Emily.”
She nodded and disappeared down the hall, her footfalls carrying on into the house at the back. That certainly confirmed what he’d heard. Emily Waddell had been taken in by the Arnolds in exchange for looking after the wife, who was an invalid. Arnold turned to him and raised his brows. “What can I get you, lad?”
Shane bristled. Lad? He probably did more work in a day than this man had in a very long time. He waved his handful of mail and walked out onto the sidewalk, the bell jingling behind him. Now what? He strolled down the sidewalk, but that just led to the feed barn. How was he to get a chance to talk to Emily?
He climbed on his horse, and rode down the centre of the dirt track to the cluster of houses at the other end of the village. His brother lived here, a blacksmith shop set up out back. He heard hammer ringing on metal as he drew closer. Riding around to the rear, he tied Clyde to a hitching post behind the house.
Lewis was shoeing a horse, his forge glowing deep red in the gloom of the shed. He held the shoe with pincers and hammered on it until the colour started to fade from the orange-yellow of softened metal. Then he placed it back in the fire and straightened his back.
He grinned when he saw Shane in the entrance and limped over to shake his hand. “How are things, little brother? Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age.”
Shane laughed and slapped Lewis on his heavily muscled back. “Busy time of year,” he said.
His brother nodded. “Damned sure, it is. You got time for coffee? Jane was making a cake, last I heard.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t say no.”
The men entered the house by the back door, shedding their boots on the porch. His brother’s wife looked up from the sink when the door opened and her smile blossomed. “Shane!” Drying her hands on a tea towel, she rushed over to give him a hug. “How nice to see you.”
“Same here,” he said. “Lewis said you’d made a cake.”
She laughed and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat,” she said. “I’ll heat the coffee.”
Lewis sighed and sat, stretching his injured leg out in front of him. A serious tangle with the threshing machine a few years ago had done permanent damage to his knee. Although he no longer farmed his own land, leaving that to his brothers, he came out to help at harvest time. “She’ll cut the cake for you,” he muttered.
Jane swatted his shoulder with the tea towel and pulled plates from the shelves above the sink. “What are you doing in town?”
Shane felt his face get hot. “Just picking up the mail and getting a few things at the store.”
“Uh huh.” His brother gave him a shrewd look. “Checking out the new lady at Arnold’s place?”
“Well, could be.”
Jane smiled, and shovelled cake onto the plates, passing them across to the men. “She’s really nice. I like her.”
He warmed to the sound of that. Taking a scalding sip of coffee from his cup, he kept his eyes on the plate in front of him. “I wanted to ask her out.”
“Good idea,” Lewis said. “There are a couple of men sniffing around, so you’ll have to work fast.”
“That’s the thing.” He set his cup down. “I was getting all ready to talk to her in the store and Arnold came in. He sent her off to look after his wife.”
Jane nodded. “I’ve heard that. I think he’s pleased to have her help, with Mrs. Arnold so ill. He doesn’t want anyone to encourage Emily to go elsewhere. On the other hand, she’s lost so much already, Shane.”
He considered that as he thought about the Waddell funeral, burying her father and brother in the same grave. “I’m aware,” he said. “But how do I find a chance to talk to her? I’ve got to get on home tonight. Planting isn’t finished and it won’t wait. I thought I’d ask her to the barn dance.”
Jane brightened. “I believe I can help,
” she said.
CHAPTER 3~THE VISIT
Emily put the kettle back on the stove and added another stick of wood. Mrs. Arnold didn’t feel well today. Her head was aching and she’d asked for yarrow tea. There were still some dried blossoms in the bottom of the Mason jar on the shelf, and in a month or so she’d be able to go out and gather more.
Spring had never been quite like this back home in Ireland, with the sudden change from freezing cold to melting snow and slow heat. But then, the winters here were different as well. The snow had been so deep, at times she hadn’t been able to walk outside the house. But that was before everything fell apart.
She bowed her head and adjusted the kettle on the stovetop as tears blurred her vision. She would rather be keeping house for her father and brother—but that wasn’t going to happen now. It was just luck the Arnolds had taken her in, because she couldn’t have stayed out there in the one-room house by herself.
There was a knock on the door and she startled. Would Mr. Arnold get that, or should she? She hurried into the hall. The storekeeper was having a loud discussion with someone in the storefront as the knock came again. But when she reached the back door, Mr. Arnold was right behind her.
“I’ll get it,” he barked, moving past her. He opened the door and took a sudden step back. “Mrs. Narraway. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve come to see your wife.” The woman came through the narrow opening, a covered dish in her hand, and closed the door behind her. “Is she just through to the bedroom? Don’t worry, I can find my way. I won’t interrupt your work, Mr. Arnold.”
She spied Emily standing behind the shopkeeper. “Can you accompany me, Miss Waddell? I’ve brought a bit of cake to cheer Ada up.”
Mr. Arnold frowned as Emily led the other woman down the hall to the kitchen. She pulled the kettle from the heat and paused to pour hot water into the small tea pot. “Mrs. Arnold is in bed. I’m after bringing in her tea. Can I make a cuppa for you as well?”
“Yes, I’d love some,” Jane said. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”
She glanced around in surprise. She’d seen Mrs. Narraway at church a few times, and knew that most of the community had attended her family’s funeral. But she had no recollection of that. The Waddells hadn’t been living here long enough to develop strong ties, and she’d been too shocked to take in the events of that day.
However, Jane Narraway was a friendly, cheerful woman who always included her in conversations with the other parishioners.
“Oh,” she said. “How can I help you, then?”
Jane smiled, undoing the top button of her spring coat. “There is a young man outside who would very much like to talk to you, but Mr. Arnold seems determined that shouldn’t happen.”
Her face heated. Mr. Arnold got cranky if she talked to the customers, other than to conduct sales. He had accused her of being too ‘familiar’ with some of the young men. “Do you mean that Mr. Narraway?”
“I mean Shane,” Jane replied. “You have to be specific when talking about the family as there are a great number of them.”
Emily smiled. “Yes, three or four at the least.”
“Six,” said Jane, her face sombre. “Six Narraway men, including the father, and the brother who’s overseas in the army. It can be overwhelming at times, I assure you.”
Laughter rose up her throat and she managed to choke it back. “Mr. Arnold will not be pleased if I leave his wife alone. She needs care, she does.”
Jane nodded. “I understand. That’s why I’m here. Let me take the tea in, and we’ll put some cake on a plate. You hurry out to the sidewalk. He’s waiting, hoping you’ll come speak with him.”
Heart in her throat, Emily lead Jane into the bedroom, and pulled up a chair close to the bed. “Mrs. Arnold, Mrs. Jane Narraway has come to call on ye. She’s got your tea, she does, and a lovely piece of cake. I’ll be back in a wee bit as I have an errand to run.”
Returning to the kitchen, Emily quickly grabbed her shawl from the back of a chair and moved silently down the hall. Was Shane Narraway courting her, or did he just want to talk? There had been a few young men who called in at the store but Mr. Arnold had put a stop to that by supervising her every moment she wasn’t in the house with his wife. She opened the door and stepped onto the dirt path at the side of the building.
Shane stood on the wooden walk, his gaze pinned to the door. When he spotted her, he stepped down to the path and came forward, doffing his fedora hat. His reddish-blond hair was thick and curly, and in need of a cut, as were his unruly sideburns. But his cheeks were neatly shaved and smile wide.
“Miss Waddell,” he said, replacing his hat. “I hope I haven’t embarrassed you by sending my sister-in-law to fetch you.” He gave her face a careful scrutiny as his smile faded. “I’ve wanted to ask you out, but haven’t been able to find you alone to conduct such a conversation.”
She gave a tentative smile at his rueful expression, her cheeks hot. “Mrs. Arnold needs my constant attention, sor,” she said.
“Can you not walk out of an evening, or just to take an early meal at the dining room in the hotel?”
“I haven’t asked,” she said. Would she be allowed? Surely once Mr. Arnold had closed the shop at night, she’d be able to leave the house for a short while.
Shane nodded and glanced down the street. “I can’t stay. It’s planting season and there’s no time to spare. But there’s to be a barn dance, once planting is done. I wondered if you would do me the honour of attending at the Williams’ place with me.”
Warmth pooled in her belly. She’d heard there was to be a dance and was excited at the prospect.
“We could attend with Jane and my brother Lewis,” he added. “You would be well chaperoned. The rest of my family will likely be there, as well.”
“I would very much like to,” she said. His cheeks went red and she wondered if hers were equally flushed. She felt quite overheated. “That would be lovely, sor.”
“Very well.” He took her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I will look forward to it. I’ll be busy at the farm for the next few weeks. Should I write you at the store?”
She linked her fingers together behind her back to keep from clinging to the front of his shirt. “Yes, that would be fine, then.”
The door opened behind her and Mr. Arnold stepped out. “Emily, why are you not attending my wife?” He gave Shane a black look.
“I’ve left her in Mrs. Narraway’s care for just a moment.” She glanced back at Shane. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she said and retreated through the doorway.
CHAPTER 4~THE DANCE
Emily heard Mrs. Arnold call and hurried into the bedroom. According to her husband, the poor woman had had a bad fall a year ago. She hadn’t recovered and now her spine was so twisted she was no longer able to walk without assistance. Even then, it was so painful she remained in bed most of the time.
“What is it? Do you need something, ma’am?” She examined the woman’s pale face, where perspiration stood out on her temples.
“I need something for the pain,” she whispered.
“I could make you yarrow tea, the water is about to boil.”
Mrs. Arnold shook her head. “I need something stronger. Get me the laudanum drops.”
Emily hesitated. Mr. Arnold had been adamant his wife should not get the tincture without his express permission. But he wasn’t here, and she seemed in terrible discomfort.
“Do you want to try the tea first, then?” She adjusted the pillows behind Mrs. Arnold’s back.
“No, I can’t stand this. Please get the bottle for me. It’s in that drawer.”
Emily walked across the room and opened the top drawer of the sturdy wooden dresser standing against the wall. The drops weren’t in their usual place. She peered closer, moving the clothes around to check, but the bottle was gone. She opened the next drawer and the next, but no luck. "It’s not here, Mrs. Arnold. Shall I go ask your husband where it
might be?” It would make Emily more comfortable to do it that way, given his specific instructions regarding the medicine.
Ada Arnold shook her head, plucking at the blanket with her fingers. “Look in his night table.” She pointed across to her husband’s side of the bed.
Emily felt like holding her breath. Mr. Arnold was very particular. What if he came in while she was snooping in his private space? Besides, why would the laudanum bottle have been moved to a different spot?
But when she opened the drawer, the bottle lay in the bottom beside a pair of reading glasses. She held it up, and Mrs. Arnold gave a weak smile and reached out her hand.
Emily placed it on Ada’s palm. The woman grabbed the glass beside her, squeezed some drops into the water and swallowed it down. As she slowly relaxed against the pillows, her head lolling to one side, Emily took the container and replaced it in the night table where she’d found it. She probably should have asked Mr. Arnold, because it was obvious Ada was going to sleep.
Yet, as luck would have it, Mr. Arnold didn’t return to the house till afternoon, at which point his wife was usually having a nap, so there was no harm done this time.
~~*~~
Mrs. Arnold was excited when she learned Emily was going to the barn dance. She demanded her disapproving husband bring cloth samples from the store to help pick out material for a skirt. “You’ll want a nice flare in the design,” she said, “plus a deep ruffle around the hem.” They settled on cotton in a white and green pattern for the skirt, with a dark green border. “You’ll wear that white lace blouse with the puffed sleeves,” Mrs. Arnold added, “which will look absolutely lovely with it.”
Ada seemed more animated than usual. “Is it the young Narraway boy who’s taking you?” she asked.
Emily nodded, thinking Shane hadn’t looked like a boy at all, but every inch a man, when he asked her out. She’d had two letters from him. They weren’t long, but he told her his fields were planted and he’d started work on his father’s farm with help from the other Narraway sons. He’d also reported his horses were holding up under the work load, and he had finished digging a well on his property which was giving good water.
Dreams and Promises: Love, Loss and Redemption in a Land of Infinite Promise Page 4
