“So I do what?” Josh shrugged. “Make macramé plant holders and sing ‘Kum Bah Yah?’”
“You create. You do whatever it is you’ve been wanting to do for the past however many years. You do it because you’re in a position to be able to do it.”
“So I marry Becca for her money.”
Chad laughed. “You marry her because she’s the right girl for you. You suck it up, get your testosterone in order, and show her exactly what she needs—that you’re the man in her life. You give her that confidence in you.” Josh started to interrupt, but Chad continued, talking over him for a few seconds until he grew quiet again and listened. “You do what men have done for decades—probably centuries. You let your wife help keep food on the table while you establish yourself in your field. You’re not a doctor. She’s not putting you through med school or college so you can be an engineer. Instead, she’s milking goats so you can establish yourself as some kind of textile artist.”
They turned another corner, Chad pointing to a car with a silent warning to slow down. He felt confident that Josh would see reason. In fact, if he could trust his gut, Becca would be engaged before midnight. Maybe there was something to matchmaking after all.
“Sounds like a dream come true.”
Chad almost pumped his fist but managed to contain himself in time. “Sounds pretty perfect to me.”
“Until she ends up pregnant and unable to mow hay or weed gardens or whatever this job is going to be. Then what?”
A sick feeling filled Chad’s heart. Josh had a point. “Then you man up and do it for her until she can again. You find someone else to do it or you insist that she quit. You do what you have to do to protect your family—starting with your wife.”
“She’d resent that.”
“If you had proposed before that dinner with Willow, she never would have asked for the job, Josh. She asked for it because waiting around for another two years for you to get your courage up would break her heart.” Chad stopped and gave Josh his best, “I’m an officer, listen to me” glare. “She’d go home with you today if you asked her. She loves you.”
For an hour after Willow and her Gram left, Becca tried to wait for Josh. He should have been there hours earlier, but he didn’t answer his cellphone and didn’t respond to texts. The store had been closed for over two hours. Was he injured in some accident and unable to call? Had he decided that she abandoned him so the relationship was over? Why wasn’t he there?
She tried reading a book. The words blurred together into nonsensical hieroglyphics. She tried watching a movie on her laptop, but when the scene replayed for the third time and she still didn’t hear why the main character slapped the antagonist, she shut it with a little too much force. Becca tried everything, but she was too agitated to sleep before the sun went down and nothing else held her interest long enough to distract her.
Laughter filled the trailer—weak and a little hollow but the sound comforted anyway. She could leave the silly trailer. She could go into town, get an ice cream, go visit Adric and Jael, walk over and play double Chinese checkers with Willow, or just go for a walk along the stream. The latter won out.
Becca strolled away from the trailer and down the hill toward the stream. In the quiet of the evening, she could only hear the occasional car whiz past on the highway. Her eyes sought the little lane that led from the highway to where her trailer—and someday a house would be. Would she be the one to live in that house? Becca couldn’t imagine not being the one, but that meant that Josh also was not “the one—” a thought that broke her heart every time she paused to think of it.
Somewhere, a car door slammed. Was it at Adric’s house? Was she closer than she thought? It didn’t seem likely, but she was much too far from Willow’s house for it to be the Tesdalls. A voice called out—called her name. She smiled, turned, and ran. He came.
As she neared the trailer, she answered him. “Coming!”
Josh met her at the corner of the trailer. She started to throw her arms around him, but his hands never left his pockets—something she’d never seen him do. So this was it. He was there to break up with her. Though it didn’t surprise her, Becca’s throat still tightened as she struggled to find a way to assure him that she understood—despite the lie it was.
“I talked to Chad.”
Becca didn’t quite know what to make of the abrupt statement. “You did?”
“Yeah. I like fashion. You like farming.”
“And we won’t work.” She sighed and nodded. “I understand.”
“I don’t.”
Becca’s head snapped up as she sought his eyes. “What?”
“I thought you cared about me.”
“Josh, I love you. You know that.”
“So why,” he asked, his voice growing husky with pain, “do you say you understand that we won’t work. Why won’t we work?”
“You said—”
“I stated the obvious. People do that when they don’t know how to say what they are afraid to say.” He sighed. “Look. I want to say that I can help you with the farm stuff and we’ll live happily ever after, but I know I can’t. I can’t promise, that is. I can promise to try.”
“Josh—”
“I want to marry you. I want to make this work. If we can’t make it work here, then we’ll make it work somewhere else. You can run tractors and butcher chickens. I’ll design clothes or hand paint fabrics or something.”
“Really?”
His lips traced her cheekbone to her ear as he whispered, “Really. Now will you marry me?”
“Definitely.”
They sat on her couch, talking late into the night until Josh bolted upright. “Oh no!”
“What?”
“I asked you to marry me!”
Becca nodded slowly. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It kind of ruined the proposal I’ve been planning for almost two years.” He sighed.”
“What did?” Becca smiled.
Josh stared at her. “Asking—”
“No one asked me anything. You just came out here to admire my new house. If you have something to ask, can you do it some other time?” Becca winked now. “I really need to get to sleep early. I have a lot of work tomorrow.”
“Sure. Call me.” He made it halfway to his car before he called back, “Oh, and what are you doing Saturday night?”
Chapter 166
For days, whenever Becca stepped into the house, Willow disconnected a call and refused to answer questions about the conversations. She knew her new employee was suspicious, but it seemed ridiculous to pretend nothing was happening. Josh had practically announced something coming. When, where, how… that would be the surprise.
So, when Becca brought in a set of reprinted journals with questions flagged and Willow pointed to the table and stepped outside, Becca’s exasperated expression amused her greatly. Once she was out of earshot of the windows, Willow murmured, “We’re driving her crazy. You’re a genius.”
“Well, my idea wasn’t going to work—not with this new life of hers.”
“Yours.”
“Right,” Josh agreed with that same trace of nervousness he had every time they discussed it. “Ours.”
“I think changing your romantic dinner the way you did is brilliant. It’s perfect for both of you, and I think if you’re going to take the time to do something special for a proposal, the least you could do is make it reflect each of your personalities and tastes.”
For several seconds, Willow heard nothing. She called out for Josh twice, but no response. She stared at the phone, listening, looking, and almost disconnected when Josh’s voice returned, laced heavily with emotion. “I needed to hear that. Thanks.”
The emotional side of Josh often unnerved her. She had considered Chad to be quite sensitive for a man—probably thanks to Dad Tesdall’s opinion—but once she knew Josh better, that idea had disappeared. Compared to Josh, Chad seemed nearly emotionless. Still, that kind of
gentleness and sensitivity seemed to bring out the best in Becca. “And that’s what a man should do.”
“What?”
Willow nearly brushed it off as thinking aloud without telling him the source of her thoughts, but something seemed to compel her to explain. “I was just thinking about how you bring out the best in Becca. You make her stronger and yet you carry her burden for her at the same time. It’s truly beautiful.”
“If it’s true, it’s by accident and probably a lot of example. I’ve often thought that of you and Chad.” She heard the hard swallow as Josh tried to rein in his emotions. “I hope it’s true.”
“It is. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”
“So, we’re good for tomorrow afternoon?”
The abrupt change of subject unsettled her thoughts. “Um—yes. Right. I’ll have everything in the back of the truck. If you drive it out there and unload it for me, I’ll set it up while you come back to change and dress.”
“This is going to be great!”
Willow sighed, relieved, as she disconnected the call. Josh was back—the enthusiastic Josh that she loved. A thought filled her mind and refused to leave. Before she could act, Liam’s squawk sounded from the upstairs window. “And the troops are up and ready for action. It would be cruel to strap them in those car seats,” she muttered as she strolled to the back door.
Becca’s feet were on the first steps as Willow reached the living room. “I’ll get them. I have an errand for you.”
The young woman stepped aside as Willow jogged up the steps. “What do you need?”
“C’mon. Let’s talk.” As she changed the boys, she told Becca her plan. “Look, we both know that Josh is planning something special, right?”
“Yeeesss…”
“Well, I think you need to have a new dress. Well,” Willow winked at Lucas before she glanced at Becca, “I think the truth is I want to make one and don’t need one and this is a good excuse.”
“Sounds like you. What kind of dress?”
“You need to go to Josh’s store and pick out something. Try to get his input, but I’d want some kind of printed or embroidered voile if I were you. Maybe chiffon, but voile breathes better.”
“I think I know what chiffon is but voile…”
“He’ll know.”
Becca grinned. “Isn’t it great? I’ve got a guy who is a great fashion consultant. I’ll never be able to get frumpy and blah, because he won’t let me.”
“There you go. I doubt you would have anyway, but—”
As she took Lucas from Willow, Becca shook her head. “No, I would. I know me too well. I need that kind of encouragement. It’s too easy to throw my hair in a ponytail, toss on jeans and a t-shirt, and go. I bet I’d become a ‘sweats all day’ kind of gal after a baby or two.”
“Can you see Josh with a baby?” Willow giggled. “He’s already nuts over these guys. He’s going to be amazing.”
“Sooo… buy fabric.”
“Yep, fast. You need to get there and back as soon as possible or I’ll never get it done. You might also have to add a bit of child care to your job description today and tomorrow.”
“But…” Becca bit her lip and glanced around her.
“But what?”
“Well, wasn’t the point of hiring me so that you didn’t have these things to take you away from the boys?”
“The point,” Willow corrected, “was not to have things that don’t matter to me crowd out the things that do. I can afford an afternoon and morning devoted to a project I’m dying to do. That fits in the general scheme of ‘living life to the fullest’ and not being a slave to the ‘next thing’ that demands my time.”
With both boys changed and ready for play, Becca and Willow took them downstairs, attached the gate that sometimes worked to keep the little climbers off the stairs, and stared at one another, grinning. Becca took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Me, getting married, and to Josh. Josh wants me!”
“He’s nervous, you know.”
Worry flooded Becca’s eyes. “About what?”
“That he’ll fail you. You did the right thing coming out here and living your life, but it’s an adjustment for him. He really thinks he’s going to have to learn to love large animals, shoveling manure, and tilling soil.”
“But that’s my job.” Becca smiled. “He’s going to learn to cook. He thinks he’ll enjoy what he wants to call ‘country gourmet.’”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds good.”
“Omelets made with expensive sausages and cheeses, meatloaves with whatever ingredients that make it incredible in some… incredible way.” Becca blushed and shrugged. “I don’t understand it all. We eat very plainly, but hey. What can I say? I don’t know what I’m talking about, but he’s amazing with stuff like this.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Of what?”
Willow shook her head and dove for the gate. Liam screeched his objections as she removed him from danger. Ignoring Becca’s curiosity, she stared at her son, shaking her head. “No, Liam. Hush.”
The tyke stared at her between wails, and let out an even more furious yell of protest. “Okay then. In you go. He who fusses can fume alone.”
Becca shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and shuffled her feet. “Sheer fabric—blue.”
“Blue. Now get out of here.”
Chad’s truck crept up the drive as he craned to stare at the odd sight before him. Two o’clock, no call from Willow so all must be well, but the house was ablaze with light. That thought prompted a snicker. Ablaze. A few oil lamps glowing near windows—ablaze. Sure.
Still, there were lamps lit—probably a candle or three too—in nearly every room. Even the library seemed aglow with the amber light of the oil lamp. What could she be doing?
He stepped from the truck and shut the door softly. Portia rushed to his side, nudging him toward the house as if to say, “Something’s wrong in there and if I can’t get in to fix it, you must.”
“It’ll be all right, girl. I promise. If anything had gone wrong, she would have called—now.” The memory of a time when that wouldn’t have occurred to her filled him with gratitude for the change.
A strange sound—one he knew but couldn’t place—filled the night air, interrupting the whisper of the trees in the breeze and the sound of a lone mockingbird in search of a mate. As he jogged up the steps, the sight of Willow at the treadle made him smile. Sewing. So engrossed was she in her project that she didn’t notice him. She raced upstairs, quietly calling Becca. “Okay, I think I have the fit right this time.”
Becca. It must be a dress for the big night. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Willow had talked of nothing else, which he found highly amusing. A small smile crept over his lips as he heard gales of laughter fill the upstairs. A few giggles followed, and then laughter erupted all over again.
It occurred to him that she’d never had the slumber party experience. Girls giggling over boys, doing weird things to hair and whatever else Cheri and her friends had done throughout junior high and high school. He stepped inside and grinned at the sight of fabric scraps flung willy-nilly all over the room. Oh yeah, it was a Willow-fest of epic proportions. Blue and sheer—exactly as she’d mentioned. Becca would look lovely in it.
The kitchen showed evidence of ice cream, brownies, and Willow’s canned cherries. His mouth watered. Chad peeked into the warmer at the top of the stove and sighed. His wife, without any doubt, loved him. In bowl and covered by a plate, a brownie sat waiting for him. That it was for him, he had no doubt. A glance into the icebox showed a bowl of ice cream waiting for him too.
Giggles wafted down the stairs as Willow and Becca returned to the living room. “Chad’s home!”
Chad’s heart swelled at those words. The joy, excitement, and utter delight to hear he had returned—why had he ever resisted the idea of mar
riage? “In here, Lass. This better be my brownie and ice cream because I’m pretty sure no one wants it anymore.”
Willow burst into the kitchen, Becca following with a smile on her face. “Yay! You’re here. We’re making a dress for Becca. It’s going to be amazing.”
“You’re making it. Of course it will.” He grinned at Becca. “Isn’t she great when she gets like this?”
“I’ve only seen it a few times, but—”
“Now that you’re here, you’re going to see it more,” Chad insisted. “This is the Willow I met. The one who hand paints fabric just so she can use up scraps from another project—that’s Willow.”
“She didn’t!”
Willow nodded. “I had enough for one, but not two, so I made it work.” She winked at Becca. “It’s what we do.”
Chad’s laughter filled the kitchen. “How many times did I hear that?”
As a tickle fest ensued, Becca backed toward the door, grabbing a flashlight from the bench. “I’ll be here in the morning. Don’t stay up too late.”
“I’m not going to bed until it’s done.” Willow pointed to the door as Becca hesitated. “You come back and help Chad while I sleep—if I get to sleep. I’m going to sew.”
She turned and left the room, a small smile on her lips. Chad shrugged at Becca. “You heard the woman. Sleep. I’ll get the goats, but I’ll leave the watering to you unless you think you’ll sleep past ten…”
“Ten? What a cushy job.”
“When your boss keeps you up until all hours, I’d say ten is reasonable. It’s past two-thirty.” Chad opened the back door and pushed open the screen for her. “Let Portia follow you if she wants to.”
Willow heard the shower shut off just as she finished sewing the lining and dress together. It would be perfect—perfect! She grabbed a sleeve and matched the ends. As she worked, her mind worked through the steps, trying to avoid missing a step in her sleep-deprived state. Right sides—no wrong sides together. Sew. Trim. Flip. Right sides together. Sew. Press with the bone folder. Repeat.
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 5 Page 21
