Where Love Dwells

by Delia Parr

  Zachary nodded. “I promise. I’ll take good care of her.”

  “And well you should, young man. Emma is a precious woman, especially to me.”

  “And to me,” he whispered to Emma. “Are you certain of your choice? No second thoughts?” he asked as he held up the reins to the bay mare.

  Emma’s heart swelled, but her gaze was focused only on the man standing before her. She had known him and worked with him now for five years, but she had only truly come to know the man he was during their courtship. True, he was a strikingly handsome man, but he was also kind and generous and thoughtful, as well. They were well matched in both intellect and wit, and his fortune was at least equal to her own, as far as she could tell.

  Both of them could be persistent, if not stubborn, to a fault. Both of them were also strong-willed. But more importantly, both of them valued family and placed God at the center of their lives.

  And at that very moment, blessed with the gift of faith-filled certainty, she knew exactly how she wanted to spend the rest of her life—and with whom.

  Always decisive and straightforward in business, she could be no less in her personal life and plunged straight ahead. With her heart pounding, she locked her gaze with his and held out her hand to him. “I am very certain of my choice,” she began, “and I have no second thoughts at all. You’re the one man whose name I want to carry for the rest of my days. You’re the one man I want to care for and love and cherish, and I would be most honored and most blessed if you would allow me to accept your proposal and become your wife.”

  He smiled tenderly, took hold of her hand, and clasped it tight.

  9

  STILL FLUSHED FROM THE EXCITEMENT of her day, Emma pulled a chair over from the table in front of Jonas and Paul, who were seated in their high chairs waiting for their supper.

  Holding any meaningful conversation was a bit of a challenge with Liesel and Ditty scurrying back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, Mother Garrett giving orders, and the twins babbling as they gnawed on heels of pumpernickel bread slathered with butter.

  Emma positioned her chair sideways so she could keep an eye on the twins and continue talking with Mother Garrett and Catherine, who were fixing platters of roasted potatoes and mashed turnips. Zachary was due back momentarily for supper. Mark and Mr. Kirk were outside taking care of one of this afternoon’s developments while Emma tried to settle another.

  “Mercy is a perfectly wonderful name,” she argued without bothering to hide her grin.

  Mother Garrett sniffed. “Not for a horse.”

  “But this is a special horse, with special memories attached to it. If I name her Mercy, then I’ll always be reminded of how hard you worked to keep your secret and how successful you were. If you’re that unhappy about it, I can try to think of another,” Emma said.

  “Star would be a good name,” Catherine suggested as she layered slices of cold ham on a platter. “Mark and I didn’t get to spend much time with you when you stopped us along Main Street to tell us your news, but the moment I saw how the horse had that dab of white on its face, I thought it looked just like a falling star.”

  Emma tugged on the heel of bread little Paul had stuck too far into his mouth until she was certain he wouldn’t choke. “That’s one possibility, but the horse is a mare. Since I never had a daughter, I was hoping to pick out a girl’s name for once,” she said as Ditty hurried into the kitchen and took the platter of ham from Catherine.

  Emma took one look at the young woman’s pale face, bolted from her seat, swiped her hands on her apron, and took the platter of ham away. “I’ll take care of this. I want you to go upstairs right now and rest,” she insisted. She studied the row of four black stitches in the girl’s chin, as well as the angry red blotches on her cheek where the doctor had removed several wooden splinters, and shook her head. “You took a good fall today on that sidewalk, and you shouldn’t be rushing around like this.”

  Liesel came into the room while Emma was talking to Ditty and nodded. “Dr. Jeffers told you to lay down for the rest of the day. If you won’t listen to him and you won’t listen to me, you’ll have to listen to Widow Garrett,” she said firmly and took the platter from Emma.

  Emma cocked her head, reached out to grab hold of the bread Jonas was dangling over the side of his chair before he dropped it, and frowned. “You didn’t tell me what Dr. Jeffers told you to do.”

  Ditty’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want you to be mad at me. With your family here, I know how much you need my help, but I didn’t mean to trip up the steps to the sidewalk and I didn’t mean to hurt myself and I didn’t mean to start feeling so queasy and I don’t know how I’m going to pay Dr. Jeffers because my family needs my wages. . . .” Quaking, she dissolved into tears and covered her face with her hands.

  Emma dropped the greasy bread onto Jonas’ tray, wiped her hands on her apron again, and put her arm around Ditty’s shoulders. “Accidents happen, Ditty, and all I want you to worry about right now is getting some rest so you can help me tomorrow. Can you do that?”

  Ditty nodded and winced as she wiped her tears from her cheeks.

  “Good,” Emma murmured, took the platter back from Liesel, and nodded to her. “I’ll set this on the table if you’ll see that Ditty gets back to your room and into bed. I don’t want her going up all those steps to the garret by herself.”

  Liesel took Ditty by the arm. “Widow Garrett’s right. You’ll feel better in the morning,” she said soothingly as she led Ditty toward the staircase that led to the hallway on the second floor. “I’ll bring you up some food later.”

  “I’ll take that to the dining room for you,” Catherine said and took the platter from Emma’s hands. “I need to go upstairs anyway to get something. I’ll be right back,” she promised and slipped into the dining room.

  Mother Garrett shook her head. “I don’t believe I ever saw so many hands on a single platter of ham before it reached the table. Then again, I haven’t been proven wrong twice in the same day, either.”

  Emma chuckled as she sat down with her grandsons again. “Did you hear that, little ones? Big Grams admitted she was wrong not once, but twice today, and if you’re good little boys, she might tell us all why,” she crooned as she wiped first one mouth and then the other. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Mother Garrett to see if the name the twins had given to her was sitting any better.

  “Big Grams,” Mother Garrett mumbled. “If the two of those boys weren’t my great-grandsons, I might have a word or two to say about what they’re calling me,” she said in a whisper, as if making sure Catherine would not overhear her.

  Emma smiled at the twins and their innocence as they continued to babble to each other while smearing their trays with the slobbery bread. At two, although they were becoming quite verbal, they had quickly given up on trying to say Great-Grandmother and Grandmother. Instead, relying on the physical difference between Mother Garrett, who wore a wide girth, and Emma, who was slender, they had substituted Big Grams and Little Grams all on their own.

  “I think it’s adorable and very clever of them. I also think they’re finished eating for now,” she added, watching the two of them playing with the remnants of their snack. At this point, both of the boys had butter and bits of gooey bread smeared from their foreheads to their chins and from their hands to their elbows, but they were happy and content, which was all Emma needed to see.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Mother Garrett said as she hefted a tray of pickled condiments from the table. “It’ll just take some getting used to, although I might ask you to reconsider naming your horse for me. And while you’re at it, you might want to come up with some names for those three new nanny goats. After I set this out, I’m going to the patio to call the menfolk in to eat. Let’s hope Mr. Breckenwith gets here by then,” she added with a twinkle in her eye before turning to head into the dining room.

  Emma groaned, thinking of her return from her
afternoon ride. Instead of finding two new chickens in the winter coop next to the house, she had found three young nanny goats in the summer pen, where she intended to move her chickens any day now.

  “You can’t leave yet!” Emma argued.

  Her mother-in-law looked back at her over her shoulder. “Why can’t I?”

  “You said you were proven wrong twice today. I was wondering how.”

  “First, I was wrong to trust Anson Kirk. He fooled me into thinking we were going out to the farm for chickens when he knew well and good he was going to fetch those goats. Not that it wasn’t a good idea,” she admitted. “Those goats will keep the grass trimmed around the gazebo just fine, and we won’t have to worry about hiring some strapping young man to come out here to cut it back. He’d likely have one eye on Liesel and Ditty while he was working and wind up hurting himself like that Anderson boy did last spring. I can’t imagine what might happen if Wryn stays to join them.”

  “Neither can I,” Emma replied. She also did not want to think about her dream birthday celebration and how it might end up more of a nightmare if that young woman did not change her ways. “What’s the second way you were proven wrong?” she prompted, anxious to distract herself from her thoughts.

  “Ditty. I’ve said all along that the poor clumsy girl would grow into her feet someday, but I was wrong. She was just born clumsy and she’ll die clumsy. In between, let’s hope she finds a man who can keep her safe from herself,” she said and left the room.

  Laughing, Emma turned her attention to her two grandsons. “Come on, babies. We’ve got to think of some names. Ridiculous, outrageous, and silly come to mind. Do you like those names for the goats Mr. Kirk brought to Little Grams?” she crooned.

  Jonas’ eyes widened and he grinned, showing off his baby teeth. “Goats! Goats!” he exclaimed.

  Paul clapped his hands, splattering Emma with bits of buttered bread. “Goats! See goats!”

  Emma chuckled. “Not now, boys. Maybe tomorrow. Your father and Mr. Kirk are busy making the pen stronger so the goats don’t run away,” she said, although the prospect of finding the goats gone in the morning was rather appealing. When both boys puckered their lips, she tapped on their trays. “Look! You still have bread. M-m-m-m-m. Good,” she said and pretended to take a nibble.

  Giggling, both boys picked up their smashed bread and began decorating their trays again.

  “Jonas! Paul! What are you doing?” Catherine asked as she returned to the kitchen and set a small package on the table. “You mustn’t ever, ever play with your food.” Although her voice was soft, her frown was stern. Both boys cried when she reached in front of Emma to take the remains of their snack away.

  Stung by Catherine’s rebuke as well, Emma took a deep breath, got up from her seat, and went straight to the larder, where she had stored one tin of the licorice root. She popped a piece into her mouth and grimaced, but tolerating the odd taste was but little price to pay for holding her counsel.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I wouldn’t have let the boys—”

  “Forgive me.” Catherine blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply you were wrong to let them smear their trays, but Mark and I—”

  “You and Mark have your own ideas about raising your babies, which is the way it should be,” Emma offered, grateful for the wisdom Mother Garrett had shared with her. She tucked the licorice root on the inside of her cheek. “Would you like to have help cleaning up those two cherubs?”

  “I’m fine. Why don’t you open your package instead?” Catherine suggested as she moistened a pair of washing cloths at the sink.

  Emma walked over to the table and stared at the package wrapped in brown paper and held closed with a bit of twine. While she wiped her hands clean yet again, she narrowed her gaze. The package itself was flat and thin, no larger than an ordinary letter, which only made her more curious. “It isn’t my birthday yet.”

  “It’s not a birthday present. It’s just something little . . . Just open it. You’ll see,” Catherine promised as she started wiping Jonas’ hands.

  The moment Emma untied the twine and unfolded the paper, she had to blink back tears as she examined the bits of cloth, each no larger than half the size of her palm. She slipped her hand into her pocket and gently reached for her keepsakes. She had no idea yet what each of the bits of cloth Catherine had given to her represented, but she had no doubt that they were meant to be added to the keepsakes she was holding tight.

  Moved by Catherine’s thoughtfulness, Emma struggled to find her voice, as well as the words to convey how deeply she was touched by this simple gift. “I . . . I don’t know what to say, except that I’m completely and utterly overwhelmed that you would give me some cloth to add to my keepsakes.”

  “Mark mentioned your keepsakes to me shortly after we married, and I thought it was such a wonderful idea that I’ve started my own. I’ll show them to you a little later and explain what all those bits of cloth mean after I’ve cleaned off the bread and butter from my hands,” Catherine offered before turning her attention from Jonas to Paul. “I’m afraid I’ve been so busy with the twins that I never had time to do more than collect the bits of cloth. I intended to send them to you, but before I knew it, it was time to head to Candlewood, so I thought I’d give them to you in person.”

  “Mama, up!” Jonas cried, stretching his arms high in the air and scrunching up his legs, trying to escape from behind the tray and out of his chair.

  “Mama, up!” Paul repeated, following his brother’s lead.

  Emma laughed. “I think we may have to let the keepsakes wait.”

  Catherine smiled and shook her head. “Would you mind? I was hoping to let Jonas and Paul toddle off a bit of energy before supper. Otherwise, they’re not likely to last through the meal.”

  “It’s still warm enough for them to go outside on the patio or we could take them into the east parlor. I put away most everything there I thought might hurt them,” Emma said.

  “I’m more worried about what they’ll hurt or crack or break.” Catherine paused. “Let’s try the patio. The fresh air this afternoon tired them out. Maybe more will get them settled into bed for the night a little earlier than usual.”

  “True, but on second thought, maybe the parlor would be better. If they’re out on the patio and hear those goats—”

  “Goats!” Jonas yelled. “See goats!”

  “Me go, too,” Paul insisted.

  “No goats,” Catherine told them, taking Jonas and Paul out of their high chairs.

  Once their little feet hit the floor, the two boys headed straight for the back door. Catherine swooped up one toddler as Emma scooped up the other. Laughing together, they headed through the dining room, where the table was set for supper, toward the parlor. They were halfway down the center hallway when there was a knock at the door.

  Through one of the narrow windows on either side of the door, she saw Zachary and smiled. “It’s Mr. Breckenwith.”

  “I’ll take the boys into the parlor. If they’re anywhere near that front door when it opens, they’re bound to slip out,” Catherine quipped and ushered both boys away.

  Emma stopped in front of the massive oak coatrack to smooth her skirts and check her reflection in the mirror. Pleased that she had decided to change into her favorite winter green linen gown, she opened the door. The moment her gaze locked with his, she could not hold back a smile that came straight from her heart. “You’re right on time for supper. Mother Garrett just went out to fetch Mark and Mr. Kirk.”

  He chuckled. “I take it they’re reinforcing the chicken pen down by the gazebo. Does that mean the nanny goats are staying?”

  “For the time being,” she said while he stored his hat and coat on the rack. When he turned to face her, he handed her a packet of papers. “You might want to put these in your office for now. After supper, we can go over them if you like.”

  When she furrowed her brow, he straightened his shoulders and set his features i
nto the expression he normally reserved for when they discussed business matters. “Since you’ve finally agreed to marry me, there are certain legal matters that will need to be settled first. I took the liberty of preparing these documents, and I’d like to discuss them with you before you take them to your lawyer. As soon as you do, we can talk about setting the date for our wedding.”

  Seeing the package of papers in his hands and hearing him talk about reviewing legal documents reminded her that there was a great deal at stake when they married. At this particular moment, the issues seemed as daunting as finding a solution for Wryn’s situation.

  Still, she did not regret her impromptu acceptance of his proposal earlier this afternoon, though she was not prepared to act quickly on any of those decisions. But until they made them, they would not be able to set a date for their wedding, and Emma knew this man well enough to know he would not be willing to wait a day longer than necessary to make her his wife.

  She sighed and took the papers from him. “After supper, then.”

  “Don’t look so glum,” he whispered. “It’s not often that a woman gets a horse named after her mother-in-law and a trio of nanny goats on the same day she becomes formally betrothed,” he teased.

  “You forgot to mention having one of her housekeepers injured.”

  He nodded. “True.”

  “And a young woman still confined to her room because she can’t seem to write a simple list of punishment.”

  “Also true,” he admitted with a frown.

  “Now that you’ve given me these papers, you wouldn’t happen to know if there might be any other facets left to the day, would you?”

  “Only one,” he murmured, “but I’m not telling you about it until after supper and we’re alone.”

  10

  I’VE FINISHED MY LIST of possible punishments and my letters of apology,” Wryn announced as she entered the dining room. Her surprising arrival silenced the heartfelt celebration Emma and Zachary had shared with her family during supper, and the troubled young woman slipped into her chair just as Mother Garrett started to dish out hearty servings of bread pudding still warm from the oven.