“What predicament?” a voice said from a distance.
Opal raised her head to her sister, who now stood in front of her. “Why, we didn’t hear you come in.”
“I just came in after taking a stroll and checking on the children.” Hair out of place, cheeks flushed, Winifred looked discombobulated.
Winking at her husband, Opal pressed her sister. “I heard Hugh stopped by.”
Winifred caught her breath. “He – He did. We didn’t do anything improper.” She stared at the brass Gargoyle base of the oil lamp on the table. “Since you and Vivian Louise were asleep, we took a walk.”
Opal rose to her feet, faced her sister, and clasped her hand over Winifred’s. “I know you wouldn’t do anything indecent. We never thought otherwise. Quit worrying about such things. You’re out here, not living in Virginia.”
“But Papa wouldn’t approve.”
“Winifred, you’ve got to quit pleasing Pa and go where your heart lies.” Opal shot her husband a disgusted look.
Alex stood up and strode to the women. Pans rattled in the kitchen. Mr. Crowley had returned to make dinner. A thought crossed his mind. He turned to his wife. “You know we’ve been very unmannerly.”
Opal’s brow furrowed. She released her arm from her sister’s cold hand. “How’s that?”
“Newcomers should always be invited for dinner, and we failed in this regard.” He grinned.
“You’re right. We’ll invite Hugh and his brother over this weekend,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“That’s not a good idea.” Winifred fiddled with her sleeve’s cuff.
“It’s very wise.” Alex smiled as he inhaled the smell of cornmeal mush baking. His stomach growled. At least, he had done his part in furthering this so-called friendship, and now all they needed to do was to seal this deal.
***
Hugh stared at the sunset ahead of him. The bright orange, soft yellow, and apple-red hues made a nice scene. He jockeyed the draft horses into a fast pace. Their white manes danced with the movement. He did not want to push them, but he must in order to beat the quickening dusk. Haystacks and corn stalks, dried and withered, lay on several fields. Next week, his neighbors would do the same as well as pick the rest of the pumpkins and squash to store for winter.
Steering the horses onto the farmstead, he guided them inside the barn, pulled the animals to a stop then Hugh jumped down. He squinted to see through the darkness. Then, he rushed to a shelf to grab a lantern and lit it. Unhitching the animals, he led them to their stalls and fed them buckets of oats. He picked up the lantern and placed it closer to the wagon to unload and stack the lumber on the north wall. Once done, he shut the door and hurried to the house before sneaking into the kitchen to wash his hands at the pump. As he marched toward the dining room, Hugh took a deep breath, knowing full well Archie would not be pleased with his lateness.
A strained laughter came from Maybell’s throat as he entered the room.
Archie looked Hugh squarely in the eye as he approached. His boss’ jaw clenched. His face contoured into a frown. “Where have you been?”
“I’m – I’m sorry I’m late.” Hugh settled in a seat opposite his brother, who sat next to Maybell.
“Where were you all this time?” Archie pressed.
“I shouldn’t have, but I stopped in to see Opal and the baby.” He could not believe he lied. He had not done that since he was a wee fellow. God forgive me.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” For a long moment, Archie did not say anything. His countenance softened. “Since you’re a newcomer, you may not understand how important harvest time is around these parts. There’s a lot to do, and we can’t afford dilly-dallying.” He rapped his spoon on the side of his bowl then smiled.
Laying her napkin aside, Maybell stood up and gave Hugh a small smile. “I’ve been keeping your food warm. I’ll bring it in.” She hastened toward the kitchen.
Hugh looked over at Jack, but his brother did not meet his gaze. He’s still mad at me. I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t tell you why Archie spoke those words earlier today. Jack dipped his spoon into the bowl’s contents then lifted the utensil to his mouth.
She brought in the steaming bowl and a roll on a separate plate. Maybell set the dishes in front of Hugh.
“Thank you. I appreciate you keeping this hot for me.”
She stepped toward Jack.
“Maybell?”
“Yes, Pa?”
“Why don’t you take what’s left of your stew and sit beside Hugh?” With a sly grin, he winked. “You two need to get better acquainted.”
“But Pa …” she protested, her voice drifting off.
Hugh pulled out her chair. She shuffled to him and sat down. Hugh returned to his seat. Shifting her face to him, Maybell opened her mouth wide, which showed off her teeth. He blinked and blinked again to make sure he actually saw what looked like parsley stuck between her two front teeth.
He gasped then directed his attention to the mixture of meat, onions, and potatoes in front of him. He inhaled the savory aroma then scooped his utensil into the stew, brought it to his mouth, and chewed it. He nearly vomited the sour-tasting combination lodged inside his mouth. It swirled inside there. Ugh. What am I going to do? He wanted to spit it out, but it would be disrespectful to his hosts and besides it looked like only his bowl had been tainted.
With no other choice, he forced the distasteful contents down his throat. Water. Water. A glass stood next to his plate. He reached for it and gulped down the cool liquid, set it down a second, then swigged down more of it until most of the awful taste left his mouth. He could not eat any more of it. Instead, he picked up the pastry, hoping to wash the lingering bitter taste from his mouth. It helped.
Maybell coughed into her napkin then said, “This is my best stew, yet. I used my special recipe. What do you all think?” Maybell said, glancing first at her pa then Jack.
“It’s good, as always,” Pa responded, digging into the stew with gusto.
Jack nodded and muttered a compliment.
Hugh gazed at his brother then stared at his boss.
“You alright?” Archie asked as he peered over at Hugh.
Forcing a smile, Hugh replied, “Oh sure, Maybell always makes the greatest meals.” Two for two, he thought. Two lies in one day. Dear Lord, please forgive me.
“Yes, but my stew is especially good,” she said.
“It’s true,” her pa agreed. “She won a cooking contest at the church with this recipe.”
“I did.” Gesturing to his bowl, she asked, “You’re going to finish it all, aren’t you?”
Hugh’s mouth hung open. She couldn’t be serious!
“It’s very important that the man who ends up with me enjoys what I make,” she said.
“Maybell prides herself on her cooking,” her pa said. “As she should. She did outdo herself tonight. I hope she makes this more often.”
“Oh, I will, Pa,” she replied. “I promise.” She turned her gaze back to Hugh. “I just might make this every week from now on.” She smiled at him, showing him the bit of parsley between her teeth, and let out a belch.
He rose to his feet. She was nothing at all like Winifred! “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.”
“Already? I haven’t even served my apple tarts.” Maybell turned to him.
“No, I can’t stay. I need to get some sleep.”
He attempted to exit the room, but before he could rush out of there, Archie cried out, “I need to have a word with you first.”
“All right, sir,” Hugh answered. Archie followed him outside.
“It’s not right to keep us waiting, and it’s especially hard on Maybell having to keep your food warm,” he pulled at his suspenders a second, “and no more wasting valuable time by seeing the Boyers. I like them, but we don’t have time for such stuff right now.”
Hugh nodded. “I’ll not do that again.”
“Glad to hear that.” Archie spun a
round and headed for the house.
His little trip to see Winifred sure caused him a lot of trouble. One thing he knew he could not sneak off to visit her again. Hugh’s stomach roiled. He had to make sure he got Maybell together with Jack. His stomach depended on it.
***
Getting on his knees the next morning, Hugh bent over the flowerbed then studied each bloom after bloom. Wilted. Limp. He reached for a nearby mum. Perfect. He cut that one. Scooting to the next section, he searched through the yellow and red flowers. Two more. He snipped them. What was the time? He could not take time to pull out his pocket watch because by then Archie and Maybell could be awake. Dew settled on his fingers. Sweat from the rising sun’s heat rested against the back of his neck. He did not have time to wipe it. His heartbeat raced. He must go with what he had. Then, he saw a lone pale-pink flower with a yellow center. Beautiful. He snipped it and combined it with the others. He had what he needed.
Sneaking into the house, he tiptoed into the dining room. Not hearing or seeing anyone, Hugh released a deep breath then stared at the vase in the middle of the table. Grinning, he grasped it to add those in his hand to yesterday’s bouquet. Hurrying into the kitchen, he pumped water into the container. He approached the dining room.
Water splashed. The sound came from a rear bedroom. His throat constricted. Returning the vase to the table, he hurried from the room. The paper. He couldn’t fail Jack again. Footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. I’ve got to get out of here. He scanned the kitchen from the worktable, to the cook stove, to the pantry door, where a hook held Maybell’s apron. He gazed at it and surveyed it. A pocket. Good. That’s the perfect place. He shoved his hand into his overalls and grabbed Jack’s note. Hands wet, he gulped, hoping against hope the ink on the writing did not run. He slipped the note into the pocket and bolted out the door.
***
Winifred could not believe how her sister and brother-in-law were in cahoots to get her and Hugh together. They really should not be meddling, but she could not help but smile at their antics. Grasping her dressing gown from the tiny and narrow closet, she pulled the cotton-lace garment over her body and buttoned it. After a day of corsets and bustles, which had inhibited her, the lightweight nightgown provided her freedom of movement. Those in Charles City would not like her thinking this, but out West they had none of those particularities. I like this place. Shaking her head at her own thoughts, she realized how much she was adjusting to her new surroundings. Stepping to the vanity, she sat on the stool and pulled out her hairpins. Her long strawberry-blonde locks cascaded to below her shoulders. She lifted its lid, grabbed her silver brush, and combed her hair. As the moon glowed through the window, her hair glistened. She examined her countenance in the dressing table’s mirror. Hugh said she was pretty. She did not know if she believed that. But at this moment with her eyes sparkling, she could see a glimmer of that. A wide smile crossed her face.
She pressed her hand over her lips. They still trembled from his kiss. Her heart pounded with delight. She had desired this in a marriage and with Hugh she could visualize that coming to fruition. Married to him? What was she thinking? Her father had pledged her to Hamilton Flavell. His crinkled skin came to her mind. Could she really see herself kissing his pursed lips? Her body shook.
Images of Hugh replaced those ugly visions: his dark-brown hair swept across his brow, his strong muscles, his unblemished face, and his mischievous but enduring grin. She sighed. Alex and Opal did not have to force them together. She already had fallen for him. She could hear her heartbeat quickening. Strolling to her bed, she blew out the kerosene lamp then pulled back the covers.
What should I wear for Saturday’s dinner? She wanted to look her best. It dawned on her whenever she encountered Hamilton she could not wait to get away from him. Opal was right. She needed to listen to her heart, but dare she? Pulling the quilt over her shoulders, she snuggled underneath it. She smiled and blinked.
Chapter Twelve
Three days later, Winifred’s anxiety was high as she examined her wardrobe. What should she wear? She still could not decide what shirtwaist dress would be the best. Her gaze went from the cream-gauze shirtwaist to the Navy blue one and its tan-puffy sleeves. The corners of her mouth curved up into a smile. Of course, the blue dress accented with a black waistband made the perfect choice. After all, she had worn it when Hugh ran into her on the train. Literally. She laughed. Her heart rate sped up.
Grasping her corset, she tightened the strings, all emphasizing her medium-sized breasts. She put on her petticoats then the shirt before pulling on the pleated skirt. A wall mirror stood a few feet from her bed. There, she studied her appearance. She spun around and watched her skirt swirl as it did the day she wore it to board the train to Lincoln. She giggled. Lovely. Her mind spun in delight. Yes, she looked quite pretty. If it had not been for Hugh’s kind words, she never would have thought of herself as being comely.
Shifting through an assortment of hatboxes, Winifred grasped the blue box with its painted leaves. Her fingers twitched as she clutched the lid to open it. She held the felt in her hands, examining the most exquisite hat she had ever owned. Her eyes filled with tears. No matter what happened, she would keep and treasure this hat forever because it would remind her of Hugh’s generous heart. She adjusted the brim on her head before squeaking open her bedroom door.
The sun shimmered in through the dining-room window, providing the room with warmth. Winifred sniffed the turkey baking in the oven. Her stomach growled.
Opal leaned down to place the china on the linen tablecloth edged with lace. She jerked her head to her sister and scanned her attire. “You look beautiful, Winifred, and that hat is so becoming.” She smiled.
“Thank you. May I help?”
“Why yes. Could you get those goblets from the china cabinet?” Opal pointed to the buffet where they sat.
Winifred nodded. Fingers quivering, she reached for the long-stemmed, crystal glasses etched in rows of flowers to set upon the table.
Opal put a cloth napkin beside the blue-and-gold bordered plate with a flowered center then glanced at her sister. “Winifred, your hands are shaking.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that.” Her cheeks grew warm.
“Are you anxious about seeing Hugh?”
“No,” she huffed. Her heart thumped inside her chest, the pounding reaching her ears. It took all her effort to not faint. Taking a long breath, her gaze met her sister’s. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“You’re fine. You’re just nervous. We all are when we’re in love.”
“But I don’t love him.” At least, she could not admit it to her sister until she was sure of her own feelings, and there was that obligation to Hamilton Flavell. She set a glass in front of a plate.
Opal chuckled. “I’m a lady, so I don’t frequent uncouth gambling places, but if I did, I would bet you do love him. I see it in your countenance and in the way you look at him.”
“You’re wrong.” She placed the next goblet down.
“I’m not wrong. Don’t throw away your future.”
Winifred moved to the head of the table.
“You’ll know you’re in love when his presence makes it difficult for you to breathe.” Opal studied the table. “I see we’re going to need some flowers to put inside that vase. Would you mind cutting some? The scissors are in that drawer,” she said, gesturing to the one on the left.
“Alright. I’ll be glad to.” Winifred pulled out a pair of scissors and rushed outside. She cut some of the daisies and asters before heading to the house.
***
Hugh slipped on his suit jacket as he hurried to the rig. His stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and nervousness in seeing Winifred.
Jack paced back and forth in front of the wagon. He climbed into the driver’s seat and called down to his brother. “Took you long enough.”
Hugh climbed onto the plank. “I thought I would be doing the driving.�
��
“Not tonight.”
“Alright.” Jack shrugged. Snapping the reins, he urged the steeds forward. The sun glistened on them as Jack steered the animals from the property.
Hugh could not believe Jack took the initiative in driving them there. He sure has got a lot of gumption. He shifted in his seat and stared at the road in front of them. Conjuring up images of Winifred’s hair bobbing around her shoulders, her tiny waist, even those freckles, which he wished to kiss each one of them, made his heart jump in anticipation. He looked at the pile of leaves lying on the ground. A squirrel scampered up a tree. He ran across a long branch. Another squirrel followed him. A series of nuts plunked to the ground. Hugh chuckled. His brother’s stern voice broke his concentration.
“Archie told me he made a deal with you for Maybell’s hand,” Jack began. “Why don’t I pay off the small loan you took out? Then you won’t have to marry her.”
Shocked, Hugh did not answer. His brother actually talked with Archie. What was happening to Jack? He smiled. Only a woman could make a change like this in a man. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at Jack. “You talked with Archie?” Hugh paused, adding, “That’s amazing.”
“Don’t sidestep the topic, Hugh. I’ve waited a long time to get a chance to talk to you about this. Archie’s serious about you marrying Maybell, but I love her and she loves me. I’ll pay the loan so you don’t have to do what he wants. How much do you owe?”
“Fifteen dollars.”
“Fifteen dollars?” Jack choked out in surprise. “What did you buy for fifteen dollars?”
Hugh gulped. “Well, remember the hat incident when you bumped into me on the train and I knocked into Winifred?”
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