Chaim shook his head in disbelief. “Aren’t you a little young yet?”
“I participated last year, don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yeah, now I do. You had to share with Poke and Bill, our ranch hands.”
“That’s because Pa wouldn’t let any other boys bid. This year will be different. A
secret glimmered in Becky’s eyes.
Chaim laughed. “Lord, protect him—whoever he is.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” She straightened her skirt.
John said, “I had no idea it was such a big deal.”
“Well, it’s coming up fast,” Becky said. “I have my dress already and everything else I need.”
Emmeline looked to John expectantly, as if waiting for him to say that they were going. Hell. He wished there wasn’t such a big social event coming up. She would be crushed if they didn’t go, but he knew he couldn’t drag this on a day longer. It was one of those impossible situations.
“Should I be thinking about my dress, John?”
John felt his face go hot. What the devil should he say? “Certainly, Emmeline. I’m sure the whole town is going.” She was searching his face again with her big brown eyes. “Chaim, is it possible that I borrow your buggy and take Emmeline out today. Would you mind? We’ve hardly had a moment to ourselves.”
Chaim stood and strode over to the door. “Of course. I’ll tell Poke to get it ready now.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lily folded up the collar of Madeline’s dress and set it on the worktable next to her chair. The work was intricate and took her full attention. Her eyes ached and the tips of her fingers were numb. She needed a break, just for a few minutes, and then she’d resume in earnest. Dustin still relaxed against her cutting table where he’d been for the past hour, reading the day-old paper, and Tante sat in the kitchen area, her chair in the spot of sun coming through the window.
“All done with the lace?” he asked when she stood. He folded the paper in two and set it aside.
“Not yet. But I will be later today. Then I will fit the pieces together with the rest of the dress and stitch them together. I hope to be completely done by the end of the week.”
Dustin had been waiting around, as he did often these days, as she worked. He was nice enough. Handsome, too. She liked his reserved sense of humor when he came up with outrageously funny comments, so unlike his serious, contemplative nature. And the timber of his voice when he laughed reminded her exactly of Roland and made her a bit homesick for all her siblings so often of late. It had taken a few weeks, but she finally felt as if she knew him quite well and understood why he was here. He had designs on her and would soon bring up the subject of courting.
Courting. What would she say? What should she say? The man she loved was an impossibility? She’d resigned herself to that fact the day Emmeline had shown up in town. Until then, the dream of John falling in love with her had been a constant in her heart. Now, it was on with life. Life without John. But, did she want to go on alone when there was a wonderful, handsome man interested in her? Her practical self told her to consider Dustin. Her heart would hear none of it.
Dustin followed her over to the wall where the frame stretched with green velvet hung on the wall, still completely blank. She reached up to take it down but Dustin beat her to it and laid it on her cutting table.
She smiled into his face. “I need to work on this so it will be pretty by the time the celebration is here. I have been meaning to sew something onto it each evening yet I cannot seem to keep my eyes open long enough.” She laughed, reaching for her button box under the table, and the draw string bag holding the stray crystal and sequins her aunt had collected over the years. She spread them on the counter with the palm of her hand and began picking out the most colorful and appealing pieces.
“Have you always been such a hard worker?” Dustin asked as he watched her put several brightly colored buttons off to the side. “This is supposed to be a break and now you’re working on this...”
“…piece of art,” she finished for him. Selecting a pretty mother-of-pearl button, she set it in the center of the velvet and moved it around until she was satisfied with its position, then quickly stitched it on.
“Lily, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
At that instant, the bell above the door sounded and Martha Brown and her daughter, Candy, came into the store. Martha’s eyes lit up a fraction when she noticed Dustin but quickly shifted to Lily’s face. Lily had met the petite woman once before and liked her very much. Candy’s too-short brown calico dress was ragged from use, but she was clean and her hair glistened prettily.
“Good morning,” Lily greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, thankful for the distraction.
“We’re just looking, thank you.”
Lily nodded. “Just let me know if there is something I can show you.”
Martha took her daughter’s hand into her own as the girl reached for a roll of lace. “Don’t touch,” she whispered softly.
Lily smiled and went back to her sorting and began laying some of the buttons and glimmer onto the velvet. She glanced up at Dustin to see if he was going to finish what he had been about to say. He just smiled a crooked grin and shrugged.
“Mama, can I have some lace for my doll’s bonnet?” Candy asked. “It would make it much prettier. Can I, Ma, pleeease?”
Lily quickly set her project aside and went over to the lace rolls where the child and her mother were looking. “Let me show you,” she said, taking a thick roll and handing it to Martha.
Candy, whose eyes were opened wide in awe, gazed at the beautiful lace in rapture.
“How much is it?” Martha asked.
“Twenty-five cents a foot.”
Martha’s expression fell but her daughter had no idea of knowing that luxuries such as hand-tooled lace were expensive.
“Can I, Ma?”
“No. Not today, Candy. You promised you just wanted to look.” Martha quickly placed the bolt back where it had come from. “We’ll come back some other time.”
The disappointment in the child’s face was more than Lily could bear. If she didn’t have such a hefty self-imposed debt to pay off to Dr. Bixby, she’d give the child the lace. As it was, it was going to be hard to make that money up before she died, even if she sold a hundred dresses. Maybe the tiny scraps she’d snipped from the collar she was working on for Madeline would be something the child could use.
Just then Dustin stepped forward. “Consider this a Christmas present in June. Lily, could you please measure out a foot of lace for the young lady. Will that be enough?”
“Mr. McCutcheon,” Martha gasped, as her daughter’s angelic face looked back and forth at the adults. “That’s a lot of money. We couldn’t accept such a gift.”
Lily moved into action when Dustin nudged her. “How would I sleep remembering the yearning in Candy’s eyes? It’s my pleasure, Martha.”
Lily quickly measured off the lace, cut it and folded it carefully. She wrapped it up in a piece of soft brown paper and tied it up securely with a string. After handing it to Candy, she gave Dustin a smile that mirrored how her heart was warmed. What an incredibly nice thing for him to do. He pulled the coins from his pocket and placed them in Lily’s hand.
“Thank you,” Candy said, excitement beaming from her eyes as she clutched the small package to her chest.
Martha nodded once more, then smiled nicely at Dustin as she hurried to the door, propelling her daughter with her hand between Candy’s shoulder blades.
When the door closed Dustin turned to Lily. “Before I’m interrupted again I have something I want to ask you,” he said, glancing at the kitchen where Tante Harriett sat.
Lily smiled, knowing she couldn’t put him off forever. The glow of the moment from his good deed was still fresh in her mind. “Yes, Dustin?”
“I’d like you to go to the Fourth of July Celebratio
n with me, Lily. Be my guest. I’ll buy your box dinner and we can eat together. What do you think?”
She looked away. Now that going was a possibility, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Not without John. “I have nothing to wear. And no time to sew.”
“I don’t care what you wear.” His mouth dropped open, astonished. “Wear this.” His hand swept to her side gesturing to the work dress she wore. “You’re beautiful in anything you put on.”
She didn’t care what she wore, either. Silly as it seemed, because she was a dressmaker, that was the last thing she thought about. She had said it just to buy a little time. She could go and have a fun time she was sure, but would that just be leading him on? If she could not have John, she felt certain she wanted to stay a spinster, like her aunt.
“Well, at least don’t say no this instant. Think about it. You don’t have to give me your answer today. I’m leaving tomorrow for Sweetwater to take some stock over to a rancher. I’ll be gone for about a week. Think on it and give me your answer when I return.”
What else could she do? John had Emmeline. Loved her. Was going to marry her. She needed to forget about him. She needed to force him from her heart. She looked up at Dustin and nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
John clucked to the buggy horse and flipped the reins over the animal’s back. Emmeline sat next to him, parasol up and lap robe folded nicely over her legs even though the weather was balmy. She waved happily to Charity and Becky as the buggy pulled away and then to Chaim, who watched from the darkened doorway of the barn.
John was sick inside. He must tell her what was going on in his head. She deserved the truth. Not some silly, sweet talk that would only lead them deeper into trouble. This was the right thing to do even if it was difficult. He glanced up at the clouds, the same ones that had been over the far mountain range this morning, and noticed that they blocked out a majority of the sun.
Emmeline was lost in thought. “Hungry?” His voice seemed to surprise her.
“Yes. I am. I can hardly wait to see what surprises Maria has packed for us in the hamper. There’s been nothing but good smells coming from her kitchen all morning.”
He nodded. “Did you have any breakfast?”
“I did.”
He nodded, again glancing forward. Small talk seemed all he could wrangle out. She looked beautiful as usual, but he could sense something was different today and wondered if she could feel his uncertainties.
They traveled at a leisurely pace as the coffee in John’s stomach thickened. Seeing a good sized plateau with several large cottonwoods, he pulled up. “I didn’t eat though. Mind if we stop and lay out the blanket and food?”
“Not at all. This spot is lovely.”
John set the brake and tied off the long reins. Hopping down, he hurried to the opposite side of the buggy and helped Emmeline to the ground.
They headed for a pretty spot and shook out the blanket together, encased in a bubble of silence. John went back for the wicker basket. A bit nervously, he sat down next to her and removed his hat, setting it to the side.
“Emmeline.”
“John.”
They spoke at the same time, then laughed, breaking the tension between them. “You first,” said John, taking a napkin wrapped chicken leg she offered, but made no move to eat it. “Please.”
“All right.” She scooted around, getting comfortable. “Well…” She dabbed at her forehead with her napkin, taking away the weather’s sheen. “I’ve been thinking. Thinking about us.”
Her, too? Did she want to set the date? Firm up their wedding plans? But, if that were the case, why was her brow furrowed in worry?
It was like a gargantuan horseshoe fell down from heaven and conked him on the head as realization dawned.
“John, are you okay?”
There it was again. An undercurrent of remorse coloring her words.
“John!”
He shook his head, wondering if what he was thinking could possibly be true. “I’m sorry. What were you about to say?”
She looked at her hands for a long moment. “I said I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us,” she repeated in a soft voice.
Honor demanded that he speak up now. Say something. Anything.
“About us getting married.”
“About us getting married?” Again they spoke at the same time, his a question, hers a statement. This time neither laughed.
The misery behind her eyes told him clearly what her next sentence would be. He couldn’t let her take the whole responsibility of breaking up on her shoulders. Her conscience. That wouldn’t be right.
Her hands began to quiver and she wiped at her eyes with the napkin, and then crumpled it in her palm.
John hastily discarded the chicken leg and took her hands between his own, quieting them. “I’m breaking our engagement, Emmeline,” he said gently. “I hope someday you will be able to forgive me.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she let out a little sigh. “You are?”
He nodded.
She daubed at her eye again, then gave him a tremulous smile.
“To be honest, John, that is what I was going to say. That I wanted to call off our wedding. Can you ever forgive me?”
Ashamed for the tremendous relief he felt, he struggled to think.
“Emmeline...” He pulled her a little closer. “There isn’t anything to forgive. If what you said is what is in your heart, then that is truth. And the truth will set you free.”
He didn’t want to ramble on. He wanted the right words. For them. For what they had once felt. For what they would feel going forward.
She looked down where his thumbs were moving back and forth across the backs of her hands. “You do forgive me then?”
“I’d not have forgiven you if you’d gone forward knowing your feelings had changed. That would be unforgivable. Not this.” He threaded his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. “I think you’re an incredibly brave and wonderful woman. It takes courage to do what you set out to do.”
Her face flushed. “I’ve been worried sick about what I would say, and how you would take it,” she offered. “I think you’re wonderful, too.” She looked up into
his face, all traces of her smile gone. “Everything felt different when I arrived in Rio Wells.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have brought it up sooner.”
She looked as if she was rallying. “No, don’t you be sorry. I feel better now than I have for a couple of weeks.” She leaned forward, wrapping him in her arms. “Friends?”
John closed his eyes and held her, thankful for the way everything had worked out. “Always.” A moment passed, then they both sat back, the same and yet after a simple, five minute conversation, completely different.
“I’m sorry about your face,” she said softly. “Was it horribly painful?”
He shrugged. “It’s almost healed now.”
“The scar will shrink, you’ll see. Please don’t worry over it.”
She seemed to be searching for the right words. He waited.
“Knowing that you’re not broken-hearted is a whole lot easier to live with.”
“What will you do now?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. Guess I’ll cross that bridge when I find it.”
His heart squeezed, but for what he didn’t know. She looked so young. And sweet. He could see why he’d fallen for her in the first place. “Guess you will.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
With John and Emmeline out for the afternoon Charity decided she couldn’t sit around another moment. Madeline and her Aunt Winnie were tending the garden, but that held no appeal for her. Becky was holed away in her room making some sort of secret plans for the Fourth. Chaim had mentioned he was going into town in a few minutes and if she wanted to go along, to meet him in the barn. That was right where she was headed, dressed in her riding skirt and duffle bag in hand.
/>
“Knew you’d decide to come,” Chaim said, handing her reins to the horse she’d ridden the day before. It was groomed and saddled and nudged her when she came close.
She threw the stirrup up over the saddle and checked the girth, giving it a small tug. With little effort she mounted up and waited for Chaim.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Sure. Just getting homesick, I guess.” That was part of it but, even more than missing her family, she was missing Brandon. She tried to remember back if they’d ever been apart this long before, not running into each other in Y Knot or on the ranch. The wait was getting taxing.
Chaim put his boot in the stirrup and swung aboard his mount. He gestured to her bag. “What’s that?”
“I’m staying in town tonight. That way I’ll get to eat supper with John and also see Lily. I’m sure she needs some help on Madeline’s dress since her aunt is still sickly and the Fourth will be here before we know it.”
Charity sat easily in her saddle, enjoying the wide open space. Her mount, a grey mare, moved with a comfortable stride. Yesterday, Chaim stayed busy keeping the buggy on level ground and away from any potholes. He and Emmeline had chatted for hours. Surprising for a man of such few words. Now was her opportunity to learn more about the family.
Charity glanced over before asking, “Does Uncle Winston ever talk about his youngest brother, Gideon? He’s a year younger than my pa, and from what I know he disappeared when he was fifteen. Pa says they don’t know any more than that. Not even if he’s dead or alive.”
Chaim wagged his head back and forth. His hat was tipped up casually, giving her a good look at his face. A cross between John and Luke, he was quite the charmer in a shy and wholesome way, and a darn good-looking fellow indeed. And, in her opinion, much more approachable than Dustin, who was guarded and a little hard to get to know.
“Nah. Dustin and I used to wonder about that but after getting stonewalled time and again, we gave up. I’d like to know the full story, too. I’m sure there’s an interesting tale there. Or a scandal, or somethin’ they’re hidin’. How old would he be now?”
Texas Twilight Page 20
