by Linda Ford
Given time, she’d realize love was more important than anything else she had her heart set on. He saw no reason to hurry. One of these days she would be willing to trade security for love.
He went back to building the fences, hope exploding through him until he wanted to shout. Instead, he settled for singing loudly, not caring who heard or what they might think.
Mother had helped Sally alter a dress. They’d removed the soiled collar and given it a plain neckline. It wasn’t the latest fashion, but Sally thought the dark blue satin suited her. Four combs half subdued her curls. She would have to slip out to the ladies’ room partway through the evening and do it over.
“Here he is.” Mother tried to sound nonchalant as Abe drove up in his big car, but she missed doing so. “He’s coming to the door.”
Nervousness set in with the grip of a winter storm. “Mother, do I look okay?”
“You look fine. Really fine.” She hadn’t said so, but Sally knew she hoped this evening would produce a firm offer of marriage from Abe. Mother would not be happy until she made sure all three of the girls found good men to marry. She was satisfied with Judd and Emmet as mates for the older girls. And only Abe would do for Sally. Linc’s face flickered across her thoughts. Mother didn’t approve of him. She’d even gone so far as to list her reasons. No home. A shady family history. A bit too brash for her comfort.
Abe knocked.
“Goodbye, Mother,” she murmured as she went to the door.
Abe stepped in at her invitation. “I’ll have her home in good time, Mrs. Morgan.”
His assurances might have pleased Mother, but they made Sally feel about as old and responsible as Carol.
However, he held the door for Sally and complimented her on her dress, so she pushed aside any resentment.
“I thought the hotel dining room would be nice.”
She hadn’t thought to ask where they would eat. The dining room at the hotel was the fanciest place in town, where visiting dignitaries ate, where travelers on the railroad ate. Or at least they had before the Depression hit. Not many people visited anymore.
But the dining room still operated, still gleamed with a polished wooden floor, tables covered in white linen set with sparkling china, silverware and glasses.
Young Alice, wearing a black dress and a little white apron, hurried forward as Sally and Abe stepped into the quiet room.
“Hi, Alice,” Sally greeted the girl.
“Welcome. Please let me show you to a table.”
She’d known Alice since the Morgans moved to Golden Prairie. The girl had been three years behind her in school. If even Alice felt it necessary to be formal in this place, it must be reserved for serious business only. Sally’s nerves returned.
She sat when Abe held the chair. She took the black clad menu when Alice practically placed it in her hands. The menu offered a four-course meal with little in the way of options, and she gladly let Abe order for them both.
They received steaming bowls of beef noodle soup, and she gratefully turned her attention to it.
The soup bowl was empty far too soon. The air around them drowned in quiet. Only two other parties dined. A pair of businessmen poring over documents and a very stern man with a younger woman across from him. They had little to say to each other.
Sally stole another peek at them. They might have been herself and Abe.
Abe leaned back as they waited for the next course. “When is this party you are doing for the orphans?”
“Tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tongue-tied and unable to add anything to a conversation.
“Are you ready?”
“Apart from a few last-minute details.”
“Good. It’s a very nice thing to do.” He cleared his throat and continued. “I’m pleased you are concerned with the less fortunate in the community.”
“Thank you.” She barely met his gaze, but even so, her eyes stung with embarrassment.
Thankfully Alice served a salad. They scarcely finished before she put the roast beef meal before them.
The pair of men shuffled their papers and sat back as if done with their business. The man and woman lingered over tea, neither of them speaking. Sally wondered if Abe was aware they were equally silent.
The plates were whisked away, and Alice brought chocolate mousse served in very pretty glass bowls. Sally tasted it, sweet and rich. It clogged her throat and she set aside her spoon.
“Is there a problem?” Abe asked. “We could send it back. Get something else.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m full.” She wondered if she could swallow anything…more from tension than eating too much, however.
Abe ate his dessert and sat back. When Alice appeared at his side, he asked to have the table cleared and tea brought.
The tension in Sally’s nerves increased with every passing moment. Alice set a pot before her and asked if she wanted to pour.
Sally shook her head. “You do it.” She wondered if she could lift a cup to her mouth, let alone pour from a full pot.
Then they were alone. The businessmen departed. At some point the other couple had silently stolen away.
“Sally.” Abe’s voice startled her. “I brought you here for a special reason.”
She nodded.
“I’m very pleased with how you manage my home and how the children have settled down.”
Her gaze crept to him.
“I think it is time to make our arrangement formal. Sally, would you become my wife, a mother to my children?”
She stared at him unblinkingly. Was that all there was? No word of love or affection or promise of forever? Of course, the latter was understood.
“You will be free to run the home as you see fit, so long as you maintain the standard you have shown yourself capable of. I will see you have a reasonable allowance for household expenses and your own needs. You will be well taken care of.”
He offered security, safety. Her tension eased. It was what she wanted. What she’d prayed for. If a tiny rebellious part of her wondered if there could be more, she pointedly ignored it. Abe meant all the things that had disappeared when Father died. Words from Linc’s mouth reverberated through her head. Friends who trust God to take care of them. Surely this was God’s way of taking care of Sally. She tried to fill her lungs, but they seemed to be made of wood.
“I accept.”
Abe’s smile was genuine. “Very good. I’m pleased. Come.” He got to his feet and eased her chair back. “We’re done here.”
She waited as he took care of the bill and then let him lead her back to the car. He settled her inside and closed the door firmly. The click of the latch echoed in her head.
He turned the car back toward home, but stopped at the bottom of the driveway and turned to her. “I didn’t buy you a ring. We can wait until we get married. But I’d like to seal our agreement in the time-honored way.”
She had no idea what he meant.
“With a kiss. If I may?”
“Oh. Of course.”
He leaned toward her. She leaned toward him. Her hands remained demurely in her lap. One of his hands rested on the steering wheel, the other on the back on the seat, bare inches from her shoulder. They met halfway. His lips were firm and cool as they touched hers for one second. Another. She didn’t know if she was expected to pull back first or if he should be the one.
He sat up.
She straightened.
“I need to get back to the children.”
“Of course.”
“Do you want me to inform your mother?”
“No. I’ll tell her if that meets with your approval.”
“That’s fine. I could make an announcement at church on Sunday.”
“Do you mind waiting a few days so I can tell my sisters before they hear it from some other source?” She’d have to write Louisa.
“Of course. I should have consi
dered that.”
They reached the house. Abe jumped from the car, and she waited for him to open the door for her. He held out his hand and helped her alight. Apart from the kiss, it was the first time he’d touched her.
But it wouldn’t be the last.
She better get used to the idea. “Thank you for the nice evening.”
“My pleasure.” He walked her to the door, bowed formally and stepped back.
She hurried inside and pressed her back to the closed door, listening for him to drive away. As the sound of the car faded in the distance, she turned to the kitchen where Mother awaited.
As she crossed the floor, her legs began to vibrate so hard she barely made it to the nearest chair.
Mother looked up, her expression one of anticipation. As soon as Sally sat down, Mother reached across the table and took her hands. “Oh, my, your hands are like ice.”
Sally nodded. The coldness went clear through to the marrow of her bones and the deepest depths of her heart.
“Did you have a nice evening?” Mother leaned forward, anxious to hear all the details.
Sally could recall nothing of the evening save for one thing, which she blurted out. “Abe asked me to marry him and I accepted.”
“Thanks be to God. I’ve prayed daily for each of my girls to find a good, solid man.”
Abe was that all right, but shouldn’t she feel something besides admiration? “Mother, am I doing the right thing?”
Mother gave their clasped hands a shake. “Of course you are. Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure.”
Mother tsked. “I saw this coming. You’ve spent too much time with that McCoy man. You’ve let his charm sidetrack you. Sally, charm is deceptive and for the most part, self serving.”
Linc wasn’t self serving. But Sally knew if she tried to defend him she would never hear the end of it. “Shouldn’t I feel something…well, special?”
“For Abe? Certainly you should. But love isn’t simply an emotion. It’s a decision, as well. Choose your love wisely, and it will grow to maturity.”
“Did you choose Father wisely, or did you feel something in your heart that couldn’t be explained or dismissed?”
Mother smiled. “Your Father was a good man. I loved him deeply. But—” Her expression hardened. “It was the fact he was a good man that allowed our love to grow.”
Sally wanted the kind of love her parents had. Was it built on choosing wisely or loving deeply? Must she choose between the two? Could they not be found in the same person? She vibrated with a chill.
“Sally, you are young and impressionable. But there are certain things you simply can’t ignore and hope to be happy in the future. You thrive best in an organized, safe and secure world. Abe can offer you what you need. You thought so when you went to work for him. What has changed since then?”
Safe, organized? These concepts were supposed to make her feel secure. Yet they also seemed constricting. As if her wings had been clipped, and she’d meekly allowed herself to be placed in a gilded cage. “Nothing’s changed.” Tears clogged her throat, but she would not weep and let Mother guess at how confused she was. In Mother’s mind, there was nothing to be uncertain about. Abe was simply the best choice for Sally. No questions allowed.
“Then I believe you have chosen the right path in accepting Abe’s offer of marriage.”
Sally nodded, mute with emotions she couldn’t name.
“Sally, your father would be very proud and happy at this moment. Don’t you recall how he often said, ‘A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches’? He would approve of Abe as a husband for you.”
“He would, wouldn’t he?” She sucked in air until her insides had room for nothing more. No more doubts. No more confusion. No more comparison between Abe and Linc. She had chosen the man most suitable to her needs. One her mother approved of. She’d soon enough get comfortable with the idea.
Chapter Twelve
Linc arrived at Judd and Madge’s place at noon, as he and Sally had agreed. Judd and Madge were climbing into their car as he swung off Red. “We have to leave right away,” Judd explained. “We promised to help organize the children. We’ll see you at the orphanage in a few minutes.” They drove away, leaving him alone.
He hadn’t realized how dusty and dry the yard was until they departed. The wind had a lonely sound to it as it whined around the corner of the barn.
Shaking his head to clear away such thoughts, he turned his mind to anticipation of the afternoon and chuckled for no good reason other than he and Sally would be working together. His grin widened as he went to the barn to wait for her.
The party was going to be barrels of fun. He’d already secured the ponies a quarter of a mile from the orphanage to produce an hour into the party. He let himself picture the children jumping with excitement when he led the ponies to the orphanage. Doing something for these parentless children filled him with joy.
Sally drove in and parked the old rattletrap of a car at the barn door. The wind’s whine turned to a hum. The yard no longer seemed dry and empty. He leaned against the door jamb as she climbed from the car. She wore a flowery cotton dress in shades of blue that brought to mind endless summer. Her brown curls danced in the wind. The sun flashed across her face, turning her eyes pine tree green. Her skin glowed like the pretty china Grandmama kept in her cupboard. Taking the party to the orphanage with Sally at his side was going to be better than any Christmas he could remember.
She closed the door and turned, suddenly noticing him. Her hand remained poised midair. Her smile of greeting turned to a look of surprise. “Linc?”
He knew he didn’t imagine the tentative eagerness in her voice. He didn’t care that she’d read his thoughts and was uncertain what to do. There was no uncertainty in his mind. He wanted to pull her into his arms and speak the words of love crowding his brain. He half reached for her, then changed his mind and crossed his arms over his chest. If he kissed her at this moment, admitted his love and received hers, they might well forget the task ahead of them. Now was not the time or place.
Except perhaps it was. They were alone, and how likely was that to happen again today? Somehow he would make certain it happened. He’d manage to find a time when they were by themselves and free from outside obligations so they could enjoy sweet confessions of their feelings. “My pa would like to meet you.”
“He asked?”
“Why is that so surprising?” His words were slow and lazy. He wondered she didn’t read his love simply from his tone of voice.
“He doesn’t know me.”
Linc chuckled. “Which is why he wants to meet you. He likes to hear about my day. You’re part of that.”
She studied the flat dry landscape. The seconds ticked by. He thought he heard a clock marking time then realized it was his heart. Was she reluctant because of his father’s reputation? “My father did not steal those jewels.”
Her head came round. “I didn’t suggest he did.”
“You haven’t agreed to see him.”
Her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Of course I’ll meet him. Why wouldn’t I?”
Because people might consider it foolish. But he wouldn’t say the words aloud. She’d agreed. That was enough. Once she met Pa, once she’d heard Linc’s confession of love, she would change her mind about Abe and grow comfortable visiting in Grandmama’s house. “This afternoon after we’re done with the party?”
“If it works out.” She shifted her attention to the stack of toys. “We better get this stuff loaded. The children will be waiting.”
“Let’s get to it.” He’d wait for a time and place when she wasn’t distracted by other things to tell her how he felt.
Madge had wrapped the smaller gifts and labeled them for each child. They stowed the games in the back. Sally draped a sheet over the dollhouse, and they managed to cram it in, as well. Then Linc crawled into the passenger side, edging himself in between the saw horse that would become
the body of a cow and the piece of wood shaped like a cow’s head for the kids to rope.
They drove up the hill. Madge and Judd, plus two young ladies who accompanied the children to church each Sunday, had the children lined up on the step awaiting Sally and Linc’s arrival. The children knew there was to be a surprise, and they looked ready to explode in twelve different directions as they waited.
Sally grinned at Linc. “Have you ever had such an eager welcoming party? I know I haven’t.”
“Must confess I haven’t, either.” Though he had allowed himself to dream of being welcomed by a hazel-eyed, curly-headed woman. And perhaps, in time, a few children. He pushed those thoughts to a corner of his mind to wait. For now he must think of these children and give them a fun party they’d never forget. He knew what it was like to lose his mother. Soon he’d know what it was like to lose his father. He also knew what it felt like to be on the fringes of society—tolerated more than accepted. Today he would focus on proving to the children that people cared about them and wanted them to have fun. His private concerns would have to wait.
The children strained forward. Linc and Sally remained in the car. He turned to her and grinned in anticipation of the next few hours. He grabbed the wooden cow head and the saw horse. “Are you ready?”
She lifted the beanbag board and nodded. In unison they stepped out. Together they set up the two games. All the adults yelled “Surprise!” Then the helpers released the children, who swarmed Linc and Sally.
“It’s a party,” Sally shouted over the melee. “Games and cake.”
The kids were soon enjoying the games. Linc shot Sally a look of pure pleasure, underscored with admiration and love.
She grinned back, then, seeing what his eyes said, her mouth sobered. She turned to little Johnny at her side.
But he’d seen something in her eyes, too. A guarded awareness. A promise of more. He clamped his teeth together to stop a shout of joy from escaping.
