An hour later, when coffee accompanied big wedges of shoofly pies, Jackson hadn’t offered much in the line of conversation. It had been so long since he’d interacted with anyone, words eluded him. After the last bite of pie, he excused himself, changed into his favorite old work shirt and headed for the backyard.
Mom called from the mudroom. “Not on Sunday, Jackson. It’s the Lord’s day.”
He stepped back in and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “The Lord won’t mind if I help with my sister’s wedding.”
Father walked around his mother and joined him. Hoisting some of the tools from Jackson’s hands, he said, “And the Lord won’t mind me helping my boy.” He flashed a grin.
Teddy joined them, slapping Jackson on the back. “Don’t leave me in a house full of women.”
Jackson’s mom patted Ted’s cheek. “Not to worry, boy. We have to go for the final dress fitting. Don’t you fellas work too hard.”
* * *
Hair whipping every which way, Barbara dashed around the side of the house. Jackson grasped the hammer tighter to keep from dropping it. Trapped breath held his throat captive. He couldn’t look away.
Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled with life. Confidence brought out all her inner beauty. Twelve-penny nails were pressed between his lips. He couldn’t smile, but for the first time in a long while, he wanted to. Wanted to smile, pull her close and tell her exactly how she made him feel. Maybe in time.
Or maybe not.
His father, in a long sweeping motion, chucked a piece of wood his way, grabbing his attention. “Lovely, isn’t she?” But Jackson turned away, desperate not to choke on the nails.
“Hmm?”
Father laughed. “You know who I’m talking about. Don’t try and fool me.”
Barbara dashed to Jackson’s side, poked him in the arm and ran her fingers along the pillar nearest his shoulder.
His father grinned.
With a sigh as light as a spider’s web, she said, “Jackson, this is so smooth. Like a stone from years in the water. You do marvelous work. Why did you spend all those years in a hot factory? You should have been building cabinets or furniture...or gazebos. When will it be finished?” She nudged his arm. “Do you think there’s any chance you’ll have it done tomorrow?”
He spit the nails into his palm and set the saw blade aside. “Slow down.” Then he pulled her fingers away from the boards, wanting to kiss them one at a time until she closed her eyes and...no. Even closing her eyes, she’d be able to picture what he looked like.
“What’s wrong?” Her face fell. “Did I say something wrong?” The sad look pleaded with him to open up, tell her about his pain, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “Oh, Jack. What’s the matter now?”
The frown overtook him until the muscles in his head pulled tighter than a band. “You should go in. Help my mother. She’s got a crowd to feed and you know she likes your company.”
“What about you, Jackson? Don’t you like my company?”
He looked around, helpless. His father’s eyebrows shot up as if to say, Go ahead, son, and tell her how you feel.
Jackson plucked up the hammer again, grabbed the nails and pushed her toward the house so he could resume the job. Work relieved the tension, let him feel like a man.
Her feet tripped over themselves as she rushed to get away, but he had to keep his mind on task.
“You all right, son?” His father’s face expressed a kaleidoscope of worry. “Why don’t you go in and see what sidetracked Ted. Maybe get us a drink of water?”
Jackson shook his head. “Supper will be ready soon enough. Better we stay out of the kitchen.”
Air hissed through Father’s teeth. “Can’t say as I agree with your lack of gumption.”
* * *
Feelings hurt and bruised, Barbara rushed into the house. She offered her help to Mrs. Judge. That way Betty could sit on the porch with Teddy, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun and the sweet smell of honeysuckle. According to Mrs. Judge, the bushes had bloomed early this year. The whole season seemed warmer than usual. New Castle hadn’t experienced an early spring like this. So she welcomed the warmth.
“Let me run up and change into work clothes. I’ll be ready to help in two shakes.”
“Of a lamb’s tail.” Mrs. Judge laughed. “Take your time, dear.”
As Barbara walked toward the stairs, she glanced out the window to the porch and noticed the two lovers head to head, undoubtedly heart to heart.
How lucky for Betty to have found a man so grounded, so full of life. And so in love with her. If only...but onlys didn’t count. She sprinted up to her room and quickly changed, then hiked back to the kitchen.
“Can I cut the biscuits for you?” Barbara drifted to Mrs. Judge’s side and took the cutter from her hands. “You’ve done enough today. You should rest.” She dipped the cutter in flour. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you sitting down.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks.” She hugged Barbara to her. “I’m just getting started, young lady. But you’re more than welcome to cut those biscuits. Just make sure they’re good and thick, all right? Can’t tolerate scrawny biscuits on my table. They have to be hardy to hold all the applesauce and honey.”
As Barbara cut into the light dough, piling piece after piece on the heavy metal cookie sheet, she heard feet stomping and loud laughter from the front room. That couldn’t be Jackson; sounded more like Teddy’s voice—almost. But it wasn’t Teddy, she was sure.
Within seconds, a stranger entered the kitchen, but this man had Teddy’s face or as close as two faces could be.
The man dashed to her side, lifted a clean dish towel from the counter and touched it to her nose, startling her. “You’ve a dot of flour on your nose.” After which he bowed elegantly and reached for her hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Teo Barrymore—Junior. And you must be the infamous Barbara Richardson from Indiana. The whole family’s heard tales.”
Her face warmed. My, he was good-looking. “Good ones, I hope.” She set the cutter down, wiped her hand on her apron and offered it.
“Always.” He ignored her hand, clipped her under the chin and slumped into the chair nearest her. “I don’t s’pose there are bad tales to tell, you’re much too pretty to have drama following you about like some Shakespearean tragedy.”
His legs crossed at the ankle in a manner that suggested he was very comfortable in the Judges’ house. He must be a frequent guest.
Handsome, regally handsome. No wonder he called himself Teo. He looked like a Teo: eyes worried with heavy lids and long lashes, a firm mouth carved from granite, hair far too long for a man of this day and age, but so alluring. And his nails had been recently manicured. Teddy didn’t seem to be from money. Didn’t put on airs at all, but this man oozed high society. He might be quite a catch if given half the chance. Unless he was all air, like a salty piece of chocolate-covered seafoam candy.
“I thought you weren’t arriving for a few more days, Mr. Barrymore.”
“Oh, my boss is a good egg, Barbara. He decided to let me leave not an hour after Teddy called. So, I hitched the royal team to my wagon and here I am. Now I’m glad I decided to come early.”
What might the royal wagon mean? A pricey, showy car no doubt. “I’m sure Teddy’s glad you’re here.”
“Only has eyes for his ladylove.” He stood to his feet, landing right beside her. “Speaking of love, I understand you’ll be my partner at the wedding.” He looked to Mrs. Judge. “Isn’t that so?” He dwarfed Barbara’s hands in his. “I always appreciate a stunning face.”
“You understand correctly, Mr. Barrymore.” She blushed. “Not about the stunning face. I—I meant—”
“Teo, please.”
Mrs. Judge busied herself at the sink without much to say. Did she like Teo or not? He did come on a bit, no, quite a bit strong—in a captivating sort of way. He was Teddy’s brother, after all, and Teddy was all goodness and amiability.
B
arbara, a tad flustered by the rush of attention, indicated the cutting board. “Well, Teo, if you’ll excuse me, I have biscuits to cut.”
He stood behind, just inches away from her ear when he spoke over her shoulder. “Allow me. I’m an expert in the kitchen.” He quickly washed his hands and nudging her aside, he grabbed the biscuit cutter.
Like an expert chef, he kneaded the dough and rolled it thick. With a flick of the cutter, snip, snip, snip. A dozen perfect biscuits ready for the oven.
Barbara nodded to Mrs. Judge. Pleasantly surprised at his ability, she laughed when the flour found its way onto his jacket. He was loud, boisterous and while not used to men like that, Barbara soon found herself caught up in his high jinks.
She shifted one of the biscuits for more room. “You surprise me. So adept in a kitchen.”
Was she flirting with this man? Her mother wouldn’t approve. But she was—she was flirting with a total stranger. “Are you always so charming, Mr. Barrymore?”
“Teo, remember? And yes, I work very hard at being charming. It’s not easy, you know. Particularly around attractive women.” He waited for a response.
“I’d say you’re quite good at it.”
After taking the first batch of biscuits golden brown from the oven, Mrs. Judge stepped forward. Barbara breathed in the fresh, delicious scent of bakery.
Betty’s mother spoke in low tones to Barbara. “Could you call the rest of the family, dear? I’ll be spooning up dinner in a minute. By the time they come to the table, this next batch will be done.”
Teo glanced from Mrs. Judge back to Barbara. “That’s my cue to leave, I believe. Better get slicked up for dinner.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “See you later.”
Barbara grinned, but didn’t understand the sour expression overtaking Mrs. Judge.
* * *
With a groan, Jackson took in all the looks at the table when he arrived late, his clothes disheveled from hard work. He noticed a speck of sawdust stuck to his pocket and tried to swat it away without anyone seeing. Maybe changing for dinner should have been a priority. Not that it mattered. Now that the Frenchman had arrived, Jackson wouldn’t be noticed if he wore sack cloth, a tuxedo, or what he was born in.
Teo glanced up. His face registered what Jackson feared when meeting people for the first time since his accident. “How goes it, Jack, old man?” He stared at Jackson, top to bottom and cleared his throat. “Good to see you up and around.”
Jackson’s mother clucked her tongue.
“I’m fine, Teo. Mom, let’s eat. That leftover roast and biscuits sure smell good. Extra mashed potatoes. And gravy. All that hard work’s made me hungry. Oh, and, Will, could you pass the milk? How about a scoop of applesauce for the biscuits.” A rambling idiot added to the menu. Why didn’t he simply shut up and eat?
Supper lasted longer than Moses’ march out of Egypt. Jackson had hoped to retire early, but that wasn’t to be. Barbara pulled him into the kitchen and draped a dish towel over his arm. “Thought you could help me. I told Betty to go for a walk with Teddy.” She quirked a grin at him. “Poor Teddy’s been shown all the wedding regalia and he probably wants to spend some quiet moments with his ladylove.” She batted her eyes playfully.
Dishes? Sure. No problem. That’s exactly what I want to be doing next to you. And by all means, let’s talk about love and couples finding time to be alone.
He pulled the towel off his arm and leaned against the counter. “She deserves a little happiness. If anyone has worked hard in her life, it’s Betty. She started at Pennyworth’s Five and Dime when she was just thirteen. Our parents have always encouraged ambition in each of us. And I think Betty’s really done her part.” Babbling again. Shut up and dry.
“There’s a lot to be said for hard work.” Barbara’s face furrowed with what he recognized as her look of concentration. Perhaps memories of her own childhood aspirations. Maybe she was thinking of her dreams to be a singer.
“There is at that.” Say something clever. Tell her she’s wonderful. Make a joke. Be a little more like Teo.
She seemed to be waiting for a response, but when none came, she said, “I can see why you three men are such good friends.”
He dried another cup and headed to the cupboard. “Were good friends.” Now he’d done it.
“Why’s that?” She snatched the towel and pushed him toward the sink. “Your turn to wash.”
Jackson swallowed hard. Words cost him at a time like this when he preferred to remain silent. “Teo and I had a difference of opinion.” He stopped. Any more was better left unsaid.
She smiled and brushed a curl from her cheek. “I’m sure if Betty and I were around each other every day, we’d have differences, too. Didn’t you and Teddy attend Marion County’s private school together?”
“We did.” He dipped his hands in the hot water and a wave of nausea flooded his gut. After all this time, hot water still caused the pain in his hands to roar to life like a spark into flame, but he couldn’t say so, or show any more weakness than he already had. He gritted his teeth as he pulled out a plate and rinsed the soap off. “Here you go. Yes, Teo was two years ahead of Ted and me. He...well, he liked to laud his status over us that he was the upperclassman.”
Barbara blew a curl off her forehead and he saw the beginning of a frown. “Silly reason to hold a grudge.”
“How about if we don’t discuss Teo. That was a long time ago. We should concentrate on being happy for Betty.”
He shouldn’t bring up the past. Discussing Teo’s bad behavior would only spoil the wedding for Betty and Ted. Barbara could go on guessing. What did he care?
“You don’t like him then?”
“Give the girl a brass ring.”
“Well, I was merely asking.”
Was she hurt? She sounded hurt.
“You don’t have to be grumpy.”
“And you don’t have to get snippy, Miss Richardson.” He hauled bubble-covered hands from the water and punctuated the air under her nose with a finger. “I stopped getting lectures about my behavior a good five years ago, Mom.”
“I’m not being snippy.” Her face hardened as she choked the life out of the dish towel. “And I’m not trying to be your mother, Mr. Judge. The good Lord Himself can’t bless her enough for raising an infuriating man like you.”
“Then let’s drop it.”
“Fine with me.”
Chapter 8
Waiting at the back kitchen door with a scarf over Betty’s eyes, Barbara held her breath. Would Betty like it? The men had worked long hours to finish in time. When she had heard the whistle, she led Betty to the backyard where everyone stood around the gazebo. The sun faded fast behind them, giving them all an eerie, surreal appearance. All were present but Jackson.
“Take the scarf off. Please.”
“Patience is a virtue.” Barbara laughed and untied the knot in back. When she uncovered Betty’s eyes, her friend defied her normal, excitable self: no hands clapping, no eyes sparkling, no lips pouring out words at an incredible speed. She stilled like Lot’s wife, a pillar of salt, immoveable—and quiet. This was a different Betty altogether.
“Well?” Her father’s voice quivered. “Do you like it or not? I can tell you right now, after all the hard work, you’d better.”
Words came gently, uncharacteristically so. “It’s lovely, don’t you think, Teddy?” She looked his way, all the while running her hand over the wood.
Mrs. Judge’s ideas sailed from her mouth like a grocery list. “And flowers trailing along here, a bit of netting over there in small clusters. Vines over this pillar and the pots of flowers I’ve been nursing in the greenhouse will fit here just fine, won’t they?”
“I can’t thank any of you enough.” Betty looked past the hearty structure and took in the entire yard, her face a lovely combination of joy and speculation. “Where’s Jack?” She gazed about. “I want to thank him.”
Barbara’s gaze drifted to the upstairs wi
ndow.
* * *
When Will approached the dining room table, leaning in so all could hear, he did a silly drum roll with his lips. Barbara laughed until tears dampened her cheeks. She pulled a hankie from her pocket and dried the tears, but only momentarily. Will with his childish acting up had her laughing all over again.
Mr. Judge shook his head, straightened and took on the persona of a ringmaster. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present—”
“Wait, Daddy. Jackson needs to be here. Please wait.” Betty scurried from the room and Barbara heard her taking the stairs two at a time like her brothers.
In less than a minute she reappeared, cheeks pink and eyes filled with joy. “He’s coming. Just wait a little, please.” She turned to Barbara and spoke in confidence. “He had to slip out of his pajamas.”
Teo tugged Barbara’s sleeve and whispered in her ear, “Think we could do without him. He puts a damper on the whole party.” She jerked her arm away and he frowned. “Well, he does.”
Jackson appeared around the corner and she held her tongue.
“What’s all the uproar, sis?”
Mr. Judge cleared his throat. “We’d like to present Theodore and Elizabeth with their first wedding gift.” He tucked Mrs. Judge under his arm in what Barbara realized was a bittersweet moment for them. “This is an eventful day. A day we’ve all been—”
Mrs. Judge patted his cheek. “Oh, just give them the present, okay?” She was all smiles and her lips wouldn’t be stilled. “Now you can do the drum sound, William.”
His ears burned red. “Naw. Everybody’s heard it already.”
Barbara couldn’t stop laughing. So much like her own family. Loving—good-natured.
Betty’s father produced a long, thin box from behind his back. “What do you suppose we have here, dear girl? Maybe a toaster. Maybe a lamp, a very skinny lamp. Maybe a beautiful quilt handcrafted by your mother. Maybe a coat of arms from the family crest. Or maybe one box inside of another until you have nothing but a little package with tiny silver-plated napkin rings in the bottom. What could it be?” He chuckled at his jokes. “Don’t give me that funny face, baby girl. Maybe we squeezed a million dollars into this box.”
With Eyes of Love (Heartsong Presents) Page 7
