Blowing on Dandelions: A Novel (Love Blossoms in Oregon Series)

by Miralee Ferrell

  She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Katherine whirled, hand over her heart. “Mama, you startled me. I didn’t realize you were up.”

  “Been up for fifteen minutes. Thought you’d come upstairs to check on me and ask me to help you with supper, but it appears you don’t need me.” She turned, wounded that Katherine didn’t care to include her in supper preparations.

  Lucy came through the door from the pantry carrying two loaves of bread. “Hi, Grandma. You’re awake. It’s nice to see you.”

  Frances relaxed at the cheerful tone. At least someone in her family cared. “Thank you, dear. Where’s your sister?”

  “She’s picking flowers for the table in a meadow.”

  Frances shot Katherine a startled look. “You allow a six-year-old child to go into the woods alone?”

  Katherine reached for the bread as Lucy set it down. “I’ll get this sliced, and you can put it on the table.” She picked up the knife. “She doesn’t need to go to the woods to find flowers, or even cross the road. This isn’t the city, Mama. There’s a nice stand of wildflowers blooming in a field near here. It’s a short walk, and she’s perfectly safe.”

  Frances sniffed, not especially happy with the reply, but what could she say? “What do you want me to do?” Frances looked at the pot of potatoes simmering on the stove, then opened the oven door. Waves of warm fragrance hit her, and her mouth watered.

  “Why don’t you sit and rest? I think Lucy and I have it under control.”

  “Nonsense. I’m not dead yet, and I just got up from a nap, remember? I’ll make the gravy. June gave me her recipe. She always did make the best gravy.”

  No sense in waiting on her daughter to make up her mind. Frances opened a cupboard and withdrew a large cast-iron skillet.

  Katherine turned her face away. “Fine, Mama. Have it your way. What did you mean when you came into the kitchen?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You said, ‘seems like a bit much.’ What were you referring to?”

  Frances waved her hand in the air. “This kitchen. There are more cupboards, drawers, and doodads than one woman will ever use. Seems almost sinful to have so much and certainly not necessary.”

  “I run a boardinghouse, Mama. I need to store a lot of staples for the times we’re full.”

  “That’s what a pantry is for. June and I ran a boardinghouse years ago. She didn’t need this big of a kitchen.”

  “It came with the house, and I appreciate having the extra space.” Katherine spun at the patter of light footfalls coming into the room. “Mandy. What did you find, honey?”

  “Indian paintbrush and lupine.” Her hand gripped the stems of the red and purple flowers. “Can I put them in a Mason jar?”

  “Let me fill it with water first. Thank you for gathering such a pretty bouquet.”

  Amanda’s little face beamed with delight. “You’re welcome.” She waited for her mother to place the jar on the table, then climbed up on a chair and carefully settled the stems into the water. “Grandma, isn’t it pretty?” Amanda asked with a wide smile.

  A rush of love swamped Frances’s heart. “They’re beautiful. You did a good job finding them.”

  Frances caught a brief glimpse of pain in Katherine’s eyes before she turned away. Why wouldn’t Katherine want her to compliment her granddaughter? Was Katherine so miserly she didn’t want to share Amanda?

  The front door closed, and then Mr. Tucker stood framed in the opening of the kitchen archway. “I hope I’m not late for supper, Mrs. Galloway.” He held his hat in his hands, and his gaze darted from the stove to the bread Lucy was slicing.

  “Not at all. You have plenty of time to wash up before we set the table.”

  “Good. I’d hate to miss out on your excellent cooking.”

  “Humph,” Frances mumbled. “If you think that, you should’ve met my daughter June.” She lifted her head. “Now she was a good cook.”

  Katherine ground her teeth to keep from saying something she’d regret. She caught Lucy’s angry glance but shook her head. There was nothing to be gained by getting drawn into one of Mama’s tirades. Best to let this type of comment go. Surely Mama didn’t mean to be as harsh as she sounded. Katherine was determined to give her the benefit of the doubt and to try to maintain peace in her household if at all possible. But it stung, nevertheless.

  “What, cat got your tongue?” Mama narrowed her eyes. “Or are you pouting again?”

  “Of course not, Mama.” Katherine dropped a dollop of butter into the potatoes and continued mashing. Maybe she could take her frustration out on the food. “Lucy, could you set the table, please?”

  “Sure.” Lucy slid a stack of china plates to the edge of the cupboard, then lifted them down and carried them to the table.

  “Ma, someone knocked on the door.” Mandy bounced on her toes. “May I answer it?”

  Katherine wiped her damp forehead. Her heart sank. She’d forgotten about Micah Jacobs and his son, Zachary, during all the to-do with Mama. She bit back a groan. “No, Mandy, I’d better get it.”

  Trudging to the door, Katherine poked her hair into some semblance of order and brushed a bit of food off her apron. Their guests were early. She’d decided not to go to any trouble to make a good impression, but she hadn’t planned on looking like a scullery maid. Picturing those deep green eyes again, she jerked her hand away from the knob with a growing panic.

  What would Mr. Jacobs think, seeing her like this?

  Chapter Seven

  Shifting uneasily on the front porch, Micah snatched off his hat and gave a half-bow to the woman in the doorway. “Mrs. Galloway.” He eyed her apron, then let his gaze travel up to her face. Dark blue eyes sparkled in the light of the setting sun, and loose curls tickled her flushed cheeks. She was prettier than he remembered. “I hope we’re not early. Your daughter told my son …”—he nodded at the tall, gangly boy beside him—“to be here a little after six.”

  “You’re fine, Mr. Jacobs. We eat at six-thirty.” She moved to one side. “Please, come in and make yourselves at home.”

  He took a step back. “We can come back later. I didn’t realize—”

  “Nonsense. You’re here, and several minutes one way or the other doesn’t matter.”

  Micah wanted to glare at his son. Why had the boy urged him to arrive early? It was obvious she hadn’t expected them yet. If only he hadn’t allowed himself to be talked into this visit. “If you’re sure.” He pushed Zachary in front of him. “This is Zachary.”

  “How nice to meet you.” She ushered them in, then took Micah’s hat and hung it on a rack behind the door. “Why don’t you and Zachary wait in the parlor while Lucy and I get the food on the table?”

  “Is Lucy here, ma’am?” Zachary’s face lit with an eager smile.

  “Yes, she’s helping in the kitchen.” She seemed to hesitate, then gave a short nod. “The two of you might as well come with me. Maybe Zachary would like to help Lucy set the table.”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Galloway.” He bolted forward.

  Micah grabbed his collar and dragged him back. “Mind your manners. Let Mrs. Galloway lead the way.”

  Zachary had the good grace to duck his head. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  She offered a tight smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, too.”

  Obviously his son had offended this woman. For goodness’ sake. She had two children, and he doubted they used perfect manners. As soon as they ate and could free themselves of this obligation, he’d skedaddle on home whether Zachary liked it or not.

  From the foyer, he traipsed down a long hall and followed her into the kitchen, scanning the spotless space. Emma had been a decent housekeeper, but nothing like this. Not a speck of dust or a single dirt smudge that he could see.

  “You have a very nice home, Mrs. Galloway. Have you lived here long?”

  “We purchased this four years ago, shortly before my husband died.” Her li
ps compressed.

  Micah wanted to groan. Apparently he’d brought up a painful subject. His second mistake. One more and she’d boot him out the door without supper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up sorrowful memories.”

  She shook her head, the errant blond curls dancing next to her face. “Not at all. I’m the one who should be sorry; it’s been a busy day. And since we’re neighbors and our children are friends, please call me Katherine. All of my friends do.”

  Something fluttered in his stomach at the calm, gentle response. Maybe she wasn’t upset with him after all. “I’d be happy to. And my name is Micah.”

  Katherine turned to an older woman sitting silently nearby, a young girl perched in the chair beside her, scribbling with a pencil on a sheet of paper.

  “This is my daughter Amanda and my mother, Frances Cooper.” Katherine swung her gaze back to Micah. “She’s recently come to live with the girls and me.”

  The woman gave a sharp nod. “You can call me Mrs. Cooper.”

  Micah recoiled from the harsh tone, then quickly collected himself. “A pleasure, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Katherine’s mother sat ramrod-straight, her eyes boring into his before they settled on her daughter. “You did not tell me you had invited guests.”

  Katherine visibly winced, and he thought he caught a flash of frustration—or possibly irritation—in her eyes before she averted them. “We have more than enough food, and Mr. Jacobs’s son, Zachary, is a friend of Lucy’s. She invited them to supper.”

  Mrs. Cooper seemed to relax. “Well, in that case …”—she shot an indulgent look toward the girl he assumed to be Lucy—“I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Micah glanced at the young blond girl standing beside his son. Her fingers were curled into fists. The air was strung as tight as a bowstring ready to snap. He drew in a deep breath. “Something smells wonderful.”

  Katherine scurried to the oven, plucking up a cloth and opening the door. “Oh dear, I’m glad it didn’t burn. With all this talk I almost forgot to remove the roast.”

  Mrs. Cooper crossed her arms. “June would never have allowed her meat to get dry.”

  “June?” Micah wondered if he’d missed something. From the closed expression on Katherine’s face and the smug one on her mother’s, it appeared it may have been better to change the subject.

  “My elder daughter, who has gone on to her reward. That girl was the best cook in the territory, if not the country.” Mrs. Cooper appeared to swell with pride. “She did her best to teach Katherine, but my younger daughter never took to culinary skills like June.” She tsked. “Not that Katherine does a poor job at cooking. Her food is more than adequate and quenches one’s appetite.”

  Micah’s stomach sank at the hurt Katherine was obviously trying to hide. Mrs. Cooper seemed unaware she’d said anything wrong, and Lucy continued to stand like a statue.

  Finally, the young girl broke out of her stupor and grabbed Zachary’s arm. “Come on. Help me set the table. You can carry the glasses, and I’ll get the flatware.”

  As Zachary scurried to do Lucy’s bidding, Katherine bent stiffly to carve the roast.

  Mrs. Cooper peered at her daughter. “I am not trying to be unkind, but your cooking does not compare to June’s. There is no disgrace in that; it is a simple fact. No reason you should be upset.”

  Micah held out his hand for the carving knife. “I’d be happy to do that if you have something else you need to do … Katherine.” Her name felt right as it rolled off his tongue. “It looks as delicious as it smells. I can’t wait to taste your fine supper.”

  When a tentative smile softened her face, his heart rate increased. He eyed Mrs. Cooper. The woman’s brows were drawn in an angry scowl, and she looked ready to bite his head off. What had he walked into? Maybe his first instinct to hightail it out of here hadn’t been such a bad one after all.

  Katherine could have hugged Micah Jacobs for his kind words. They went a long way toward soothing the hurt created by her mother’s blunt words. She doubted the man realized he’d stepped into the dragon’s maw, but she knew well enough. Poor man. If this continued, he’d probably wish he’d stayed home and not been caught between two cantankerous women.

  All right, maybe she wasn’t the accomplished cook her sister had been, but did Mama have to point it out, in front of company to boot? Why did she have to be disagreeable all the time? Couldn’t she compliment her just once or, if nothing else, not disparage her in some way?

  But that was Mama. Katherine had heard her tell both family and friends that she was a frank, outspoken woman who said what she thought and people needed to learn to accept her. Katherine had never understood why others always must bend where Mama was concerned and why Mama couldn’t temper her tongue and be more gracious. Well, it wasn’t her place to criticize her elders in public, and little good it would do, anyway. She’d found it easier to let Mama’s comments slide by with a smile or a laugh and pretend they didn’t penetrate. Truth be told, each new one simply cut a deeper rift between them, and the scars thickened with each harsh word.

  Giggling from the adjoining dining room drew her out of her thoughts, and she stepped toward the entrance. Lucy and Zachary were having a tug-of-war over one of her good cloth napkins. “Lucy! Whatever do you think you’re doing?”

  Her daughter whirled, consternation flooding her face. “Sorry, Ma.” She took the cloth from Zachary’s hands and folded it carefully, laying it on the sideboard. “We were done setting the table, and we got distracted.”

  “Please come dish up the potatoes and help me get the food set out.” Distracted, was it? Katherine didn’t care at all for where that little episode appeared to be heading. Lucy claimed the boy wasn’t interested in courting, but she’d noticed the gleam in his eye. Her daughter might only be thirteen, but Zachary was over a year older, and she’d seen youngsters marry at the age of fifteen. She wanted better for her girl. Not that she didn’t value marriage—she’d had a strong one herself—but Lucy was bright, and Katherine didn’t want her daughter missing out on a future opportunity.

  Why had she offered to let Micah use her Christian name? She didn’t know him well enough for that, and it was unlikely they’d end up friends, even if they were neighbors. Guilt, that’s why. He had obviously been uncomfortable when he’d arrived, so she’d done what she did with everyone—tried to make things easier for them. If she’d kept it more formal, it would be so much simpler to sever any ties the children tried to create.

  Well, she knew one thing for sure. After this evening she needed to have a talk with Mr. Micah Jacobs about his son’s intentions toward her daughter and let him know Lucy was too young for courting. Katherine had seen too many girls get caught up in what they believed was love … and ended in drudgery. She would see to it that did not happen to her girl.

  After Micah complimented her cooking, she’d regretted her earlier irritation at having guests. Now she could see her regret was a mistake. She needed both Jacobs men to understand they had no future with the Galloway women—no matter how kind or conciliatory Micah Jacobs appeared.

  Frances didn’t care one whit for the events unfolding at her table. She tilted her chin in the air and sniffed. Maybe not her table exactly, but she was the eldest, and it was her home now too. Who was this man, and why would Katherine allow Lucy to invite him and his son to supper? She had enough on her plate feeding boarders who paid for their meals. Why invite two additional men who would probably eat more than their fair share of the food?

  Only one reason that Frances could gather. Katherine was ready to replace dear Daniel in her heart, life, and bed. Daniel had been a saint, to Frances’s way of thinking, and no man could replace him. Daniel had understood her when her own daughter hadn’t noticed her needs. He’d cared for Katherine and their daughters with a tenderness that Frances had only experienced years ago with Ben. But even Ben hadn’t lived up to her son-in-law. No. Another man could never take Daniel’s place, no matter how hands
ome or seemingly cordial.

  Mr. Jacobs had not liked it one bit when she’d mentioned Katherine’s cooking not being up to snuff with June’s. Good. Maybe Katherine’s lack of culinary skills would deter him from pursuing her. After all, most men thought through their stomachs or …

  Heat rose in her cheeks. That was one area she had never been comfortable with, and only by dint of wifely obedience had she conceived not one, but two children.

  Frances peered at Micah Jacobs as he cast a charming smile at Katherine. The girl was attractive in her own way, Frances would give her that. It was the only place Katherine had outshone June.

  But beauty was only skin deep, as the saying went. Katherine did have fine qualities beyond her somewhat good looks, but how many men would see past the external? Not many, she’d guess. It would pay to keep an eye on things.

  Lucy tried to keep a sweet expression during the meal, but deep inside she was screaming. Grandma was rude, and Ma wouldn’t stand up to her, no matter what she said. Why didn’t Ma say something when Grandma made such hurtful comments? Sure, Ma preached that they needed to respect their elders and return love for evil, but Lucy didn’t agree. If that was one of God’s rules, He certainly wasn’t fair. Having to live in this house for the next four or five years and listen to Grandma’s criticism seemed an eternity.

  And another thing—Ma had refused to let Zachary sit next to Lucy so they could talk. Why would Ma think he wanted to court her? Lucy almost snorted her derision. She was only thirteen, for gracious’ sake! The last thing she cared about was courting.

  Zachary met her eyes and smiled. He raised a forkful of potatoes in the air. “Your ma’s a good cook.” He cast a glance at Grandma. “At least, she’s sure a whole sight better than Pa.”