The Ties That Bind

by Amelia C. Adams

  “I think that sounds very reasonable. Thank you, Mr. Thomas,” Scarlett replied. She could hardly believe her good luck—her son would be given a worthwhile use of his time, a way to earn some money, and a lesson in manners all at once.

  “Would you like to confer with your husband before we make anything official?” Mr. Thomas asked.

  “My husband?” Scarlett blinked. Didn’t Mr. Thomas realize she was a widow? She thought that’s why he was helping her—doing his Christian duty and all that. “My husband passed away six months ago, Mr. Thomas. It’s just the three of us now.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Mr. Thomas seemed a bit surprised by the news, as though it affected him in some way, but she couldn’t see how. He’d never met Anthony—it shouldn’t make any difference to him at all. “Is it all right with you, then, if Freddy comes in the morning?”

  “Of course.”

  Mr. Thomas reached in his pocket again. “My business card with my address. Perhaps you could bring him the first time so he doesn’t get turned around.”

  “Of course,” she said again. “I’d be glad to.”

  “All right, then. I’m happy to have you aboard.” He shook Freddy’s hand, then gave a nod to both Scarlett and May. Then he and Eliza continued on their way, the girls waving at each other over their shoulders as they went.

  “Well, what do you think about that, Freddy?” Scarlett asked. “You have a job now. An actual paying job.”

  “You’ll probably need a bank to put all your money in,” May said. “I saw one at the mercantile. It was shaped like a pig. You could use your first penny to buy it, and it could sit on your shelf.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Freddy said, lifting his nose in the air. “Maybe I’ll have better things to spend my money on.”

  Gracious. He didn’t even have his first penny yet, and he was already becoming arrogant about it. Scarlett shook her head. “Earning money is a big responsibility, Freddy. You’ll want to take good care of it.”

  “I will, I will.” They were almost at the house, and Freddy took off, running the rest of the way.

  May gave Scarlett’s hand a little squeeze. “I like Eliza’s brother a lot, Mama. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, he seems to be a very nice sort of man.” And nice looking, but Scarlett pushed the thought away as soon as she had it.

  “I think he’s too old to be a brother, though. He looks more like a daddy. Don’t you think he looks more like a daddy, Mama?”

  “I think brothers can be any age. If he’s the oldest and Eliza is the youngest, that makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose.” May sighed. “Eliza says she has a million and twelve brothers. What would that be like, Mama?”

  “Very busy. And there would be lots of dirty socks.” Scarlett made a face, and May laughed.

  “Yeah, it would be stinky, but maybe it would be fun. And maybe if Freddy had a brother, he wouldn’t be such a cranky boy.”

  “Do you think so?” Scarlett asked. “Is that why he’s so cranky now?”

  May scrunched up her face. “Well, that’s kinda hard to say. Maybe, but maybe he’s cranky because Daddy was cranky too.”

  Scarlett pulled in a sharp breath. She’d hoped that May had been spared from Anthony’s tirades. “What do you mean?” she asked casually.

  “Oh, you know, Mama. Daddy used to yell all the time. You remember.” May said it simply, as though merely reading a story. “And once in a while, he’d throw something. That’s pretty cranky, if you ask me.”

  “Yes, dear, that is cranky.” Scarlett felt the knot in her stomach grow. For all she’d done to protect her children, it hadn’t been enough. She hadn’t been enough. And now a stranger on the street had to educate her son in having good manners because she wasn’t qualified to do it.

  She didn’t say anything the rest of the way home. She just couldn’t swallow down the dread in her throat. She’d have to talk to Mr. Thomas the next day and tell him that while his offer was very kind, she couldn’t take him up on it. She might have next to nothing, but she did have her pride, and he’d just have to respect that.

  Chapter Four

  Shortly after Scarlett and the children reached the house, a knock came at the door, and Scarlett opened it to see three older ladies standing on the porch.

  “Yes? May I help you?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Carlson, you probably don’t remember us, but we’re from the sewing circle at Jane Henderson’s shop. We met you briefly,” the tallest of the three women said. “I’m Bonnie Clark, this is Esther Brown, and this is Thora Barton.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry for not recognizing you immediately—there was quite a lot going on at the time. Won’t you come in?” Scarlett stepped back and held the door open, feeling embarrassed that these ladies had to introduce themselves again. She must have seemed unwelcoming when in actuality, it was good to have company.

  “You’ve decorated so nicely,” Thora said, looking around with a smile on her face.

  “I’ve really done very little, but I have a lot of plans.” Scarlett motioned toward the sofa, then grabbed a chair from the table to bring over. “Please sit down. The children are outside playing, so we’ll have a little peace for our visit.”

  “We’ve brought you a small housewarming gift.” Bonnie held out the basket she’d been carrying. “I confess, I’m a compulsive jam maker, and there are rows of bottles all over my kitchen. When you run out, let me know and I’ll refill your stores.”

  Scarlett looked inside the basket and saw six different varieties of jams, their vibrant colors shimmering through the glass jars like jewels set in a crown. “These look delicious. Thank you. I’ve never heard of a compulsive jam maker before, though.”

  Bonnie chuckled. “Well, neither had I until I became one. When my husband died, I found myself unable to sleep, so I’d stay up and putter around my house doing odd little tasks, and I discovered that it’s the perfect time to make jam because it’s cooler at night and you don’t overheat the kitchen.”

  “I stay up and sew,” Scarlett replied.

  “So do I,” Thora said. “Perhaps Jane should start another sewing circle meeting for those of us who are up all night.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she has enough to do,” Esther chimed in. “She could just give us the key so we can let ourselves in.”

  The ladies laughed, and then Thora turned back to Scarlett. “I don’t mean to pry, my dear, but you seemed . . . well, a bit upset when we last saw you, and I don’t blame you a bit after the way Colonel Gordon spoke to you. Are you all right?”

  “You’re very kind, Mrs. Barton. To tell you the truth, I was definitely rattled, and then on the way home a little while ago . . .” Scarlett sighed. “Do any of you know Peter Thomas? He’s Eliza Thomas’s older brother.”

  The three ladies glanced at each other, their eyes wide. “Yes, we do,” Bonnie replied. “He’s the grandson of one of our dearest friends. She was there with us at our sewing meeting. Do you remember Maude?”

  “I’m not sure,” Scarlett replied. “There were so many of you . . .”

  Bonnie laughed. “We don’t blame you for feeling overwhelmed. It took me a long time to learn everyone’s names too.”

  “And plus, with all our gray hair, I’m sure we look somewhat alike,” Thora added.

  “Although mine is more silver than gray.” Bonnie touched one of the curls in question.

  “Tell us how you met Peter,” Esther said, sounding eager to get back on topic.

  Scarlett explained everything that had happened, including Mr. Thomas’s offer to Freddy, her cheeks growing warmer the longer she spoke. “And I’m sure he’s a very nice man and he was only trying to help, but . . . shouldn’t I be the one to discipline my own child instead of perfect strangers plucking him off the street and doing it for me?” She swallowed. “Even if I’m absolutely terrible at it and Freddy’s completely out of control?”

 
The ladies glanced at each other again, and Scarlett wondered if she’d said something to alarm them. “Sometimes God puts people in our path who can help us when we need an extra boost,” Thora said after a moment. “Peter Thomas is one of the kindest young men I’ve ever known, and I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you or make you feel like you’re not doing a good job.”

  “If I were you, I’d definitely follow through on your plan and go talk to him,” Esther said. “He should know how you feel, and I’ve always believed that open communication is important in a relationship.”

  Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “A . . . a relationship?”

  “Or anytime you’re getting to know someone,” Bonnie inserted, her hands fluttering. “It doesn’t have to be a relationship. It can be . . . an acquaintanceship.”

  “Exactly,” Esther amended, her cheeks now a little pink. “Any time two people are getting to know each other, they should communicate openly.”

  Now the ladies looked nervous. Something was definitely going on, but Scarlett decided she’d worry about it later. If she asked them about it now, she’d probably rattle them even further, and she was hoping to make them feel welcome in her home. “So, I should go talk to him?”

  “Yes. Tell him everything you just told us. I’m sure he was only looking for a way to help Freddy, and if he realizes he offended you, he’ll do whatever he can to make things right,” Thora said.

  “My mother has always taught me not to take offense, but sometimes . . . sometimes it’s harder than others to let things go,” Scarlett said. Oh, the things she’d heard after Anthony died . . . The rumors about him, the criticism of her … She’d learned that the tongue could be a very vile thing.

  “We understand, my dear.” Thora leaned forward and patted her arm. It was such a nice grandmotherly gesture that Scarlett felt her eyes fill with tears. “Sometimes things are so hard to ignore. I’ve come to believe that it’s what we do when we’re offended that makes the most difference—whether we return like for like, whether we choose to pull it out and relive it, whether we repeat the story over and over again. Those are the real telling factors of our character.”

  “Thank you.” Scarlett pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “That means more to me than you know.”

  Thora patted her arm again, then sat back. “How long have you been a widow?”

  “Anthony passed away six months ago. We lived with my mother for a time, but she’s become quite ill and needed to be hospitalized, so now here we are.” Scarlett lifted her hands to indicate the small home where they now sat.

  “Six months can seem like an eternity or just moments,” Esther said, peering at her. “How are you getting along?”

  The question Scarlett never knew how to answer . . . “I’ll be honest, Mrs. Brown. I don’t miss my husband at all. He wasn’t kind to me, and I grew to resent him. The difficulties have been things like finding a home, finding a job, trying to figure out who I am separate from being his wife. But if you’re asking if I’m in mourning, the answer is no.” She paused. “Does that make me a terrible person?”

  Thora’s eyes were rimmed with tears. “Oh, you poor thing,” she murmured.

  “You’re not a terrible person,” Esther replied. “No one deserves to be treated poorly, and while I’m sorry you’ve been through such a struggle, I’m glad that you’re having the chance to start afresh. Topeka will be a good home for you. There are some of us who came here when the town was first organized, but there are also new people coming here all the time, and there will be friends and acquaintances to choose from on every corner.”

  “Oh, yes.” Bonnie’s eyes were alight. “So many new acquaintances. Some you may have already met and just need to meet again. Have . . . have you met anyone you’d like to meet again?”

  Scarlett wasn’t sure what to make of that question. “Well, you’ve all been very kind,” she began. “And I’m sure I’ll meet more people in time. Mrs. Osbourne was telling me about the ladies’ auxiliary at the church.”

  “Yes, it’s a very nice organization,” Bonnie replied, looking disappointed even though her words were positive. “Lots and lots of ladies . . .”

  “We might as well be blunt.” Esther sat back and folded her arms across her middle. “We were hoping you’d have the chance to make some new gentlemen friends as well.”

  “Oh.” That did make more sense. Scarlett smiled—Bonnie had certainly been trying hard to ask the question without really saying anything. “I suppose I could meet some gentlemen while I’m at it.”

  The disappointed look left Bonnie’s face as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s wonderful! I mean, it’s good to have friends of all sorts, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do,” Scarlett said, giving her a nod.

  The ladies stayed a few more minutes, then left when the children came inside to say they were hungry. That had been one of the strangest social calls Scarlett had ever taken, but at the same time, one of the nicest because these women truly did understand what she’d been through. She hadn’t once felt judged or ostracized for her weaknesses, and that gave her a particle of strength to keep pushing through. And they’d brought jam . . .

  It was hard not to feel a little better about life while eating jam.

  Peter had just inserted the key into the lock of his office door when he heard a voice call out his name. He turned to see Toby Johnson coming up the road toward him, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

  “Hello there,” he said, reaching out to shake Toby’s hand. “I haven’t seen you in a little while—all the wedding planning, I suppose.”

  “No, actually,” Toby replied. “The women have got that well under control, and any time I ask about it, I’m told that I’m being a nuisance. I’m spending my time finishing the cabin.”

  “Wise choice.” Peter opened the door and invited his friend to follow him inside. “I’ve been wanting to come by and see if you need any help, but I’ve just taken on a few new clients, and that’s pretty much eliminated my free time.”

  “That’s all right. Hugh and Asher Spencer have been coming over, and between the three of us, we’re making good progress. Might even have a roof on the place before the wedding.”

  “That’s good. I’ve heard that brides like having roofs on their houses. Something about not getting rained on—I think it’s a bit persnickety myself, but who am I to judge?”

  Toby laughed. “Yes, I’ll make sure the roof’s done. Smart aleck.”

  Peter laughed too, leaning back in his chair and regarding his friend. “So, things are going well between you and Miriam? I mean, you’re working everything out?”

  Toby shook his head and blew out a breath at the same time. “Yes, mostly. It’s been difficult, though—I won’t lie to you. She carries a lot of heartache about her parents’ deaths, and every so often, she asks me to reassure her that I’m not going anywhere. She still puts up walls when she feels vulnerable, and I’m learning when to give her space and when to step closer. And she’s learning how to deal with all my quirks as well—I’m sure I’m a joy to be around every minute.”

  “But all this hard work has been worth it?” Peter asked.

  “Every single second, and I know I’ll feel that way twelve times over once we’re married,” Toby replied. “Love isn’t easy, but it’s the most valuable thing we have, and it’s worth fighting for.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not just asking out of idle curiosity?”

  “Because . . . well, you know my history where romance is concerned,” Peter began.

  “Or your absolute lack of history? Yes, I’m very familiar,” Toby interrupted.

  Peter ignored him. When it came to Toby, that was often the best course of action. “I met a pretty woman at Miriam’s homecoming party—Scarlett Carlson. I spoke to her for a moment and found her intelligent and kind as well as pretty. I’d hoped to get to know her better—then I learned she has children, and I assumed s
he was married. But I found out yesterday that she’s actually a widow, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind ever since.”

  “I see. And you’re questioning yourself because you’ve been down this path before, and it’s never taken you where you wanted to go.”

  “Exactly.” Peter leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “This is different, though. There was a fundamental issue with each past relationship I tried to pursue. With Carol, I overlooked her immaturity because I was smitten by her wit, and I didn’t realize that she wasn’t ready to think about marriage. Scarlett not only has the intelligence I find attractive, and the beauty, of course, but her experiences have given her that necessary level of maturity.”

  Toby nodded. “You’re approaching this very logically, you know. Let’s go back to where you mentioned her beauty.”

  “That’s always your favorite part of any story, isn’t it?”

  “You have to admit, it’s a good part.”

  Peter laughed. “Yes, it is, and yes, she’s very pretty. But I’ve learned the hard way that’s not enough.”

  Toby nodded again. “You say she has children.”

  “Yes, a boy and a girl. She’s obviously struggling to bring them up on her own—her son’s a bit of a handful, but I’ve given him a job here in the office, and I’m hoping that will calm him down somewhat.”

  “Getting involved, are you?”

  Peter leaned back in his chair. “It’s hard not to. She has a pull on me—I can’t describe it. The moment I saw her, it was like being led toward her by an invisible force. I need to investigate—I need to see if there’s something more here.”

  “You know, a widow is going to have a lot to work through,” Toby said. “She’ll have a set of expectations from her first marriage—it won’t be easy.”

  “Well, you were just telling me some things about love, weren’t you? How it’s worth fighting for?”