“Four o’clock,” she repeated.
She sat on the porch and watched him stride away, the strength of his shoulders and the confidence in his walk. She already knew it—she’d known it for days—but that was the man she wanted to marry. Her checkered past would always keep her from being suitable, but she could daydream, and she’d been doing quite a lot of that as of late.
He’d gone out of his way to make sure her son was comforted. He didn’t mind May’s endless chattering. He looked at Scarlett like she was someone of worth, and she would never forget his kindness to her family. Even after he married someone else.
She stood up from her chair and went inside, pulling the door closed. The children were finishing up at the table, and she asked May to go wash her hands so she could speak to Freddy privately. May glanced between them with a worried look on her face, but went out to the pump without an argument.
“Freddy, that was Mr. Thomas at the door just now,” she began, unsure what words to use. “He’s worried about you.”
Freddy looked down at the table and didn’t reply.
“He told me about the apple cider, and how you thought drinking it would make him mean.” Scarlett paused. “Freddy, did you see your father acting mean when he drank whiskey?”
Freddy nodded.
All this time, Scarlett thought Anthony had hidden his drinking from their son. He’d go on and on about how he wanted his boy to be a real man, how he was going to teach him all the best values in life . . . but apparently, that didn’t extend to this common vice.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” she said gently.
“He . . . he said it was every man’s right to have as much to drink as he wanted,” Freddy finally said. “And nobody was gonna stop him, not even a snot-nosed kid.”
“He said that to you?”
Freddy nodded, still not meeting her eyes.
Scarlett leaned back in her chair, feeling sick. “And was he mean to you?”
It seemed like a long time until Freddy answered, “He hit me sometimes. Or he’d yell.”
The reality of Freddy’s answer sat in the middle of her gullet like a stone. She’d always thought that Anthony treated Freddy better than he did Scarlett and May. She thought Freddy was safe with his father. And this whole time . . . Anger roiled up inside her, and she had to swallow a few times to bring herself under control again. “I didn’t realize, Freddy, and I’m sorry,” she said once she could manage it. “I thought he was kinder to you.”
“He was nice to me mostly,” Freddy corrected. “It’s just . . . when he had too much to drink.”
“Yes, the whiskey did make it hard for him to be kind.” Scarlett pressed her fingertips to her temples. She thought she’d already uncovered everything there was to know about Anthony. It would appear that she was wrong. “Mr. Thomas never drinks, Freddy. You don’t need to be scared of him.”
“I’m not scared of him. Not exactly,” Freddy replied. “It’s just . . .”
“Yes?”
“He’s a nice man, and I don’t want to see him change,” Freddy replied. “He should be better than Papa. I don’t want him to turn into Papa.”
“He won’t. He promised me.” Scarlett reached out to touch Freddy’s shoulder, and this time, he didn’t flinch away. “I trust Mr. Thomas, Freddy. I believe him when he says he’ll never drink a drop.”
“But why do you trust him? How do you know he’s not lying like Papa did?”
Oh, gracious. Why did Scarlett’s children have to ask such questions? It was a sign of their intelligence, and she was grateful for that, but it surely did test her own intelligence to its limit.
“It’s hard to say,” she said at last. “But I feel it in my heart when he talks to me.”
“Is that like falling in love, Mama?”
She blinked. “I . . . um . . . what?”
“I heard someone say that falling in love happens in your heart. Are you falling in love with Mr. Thomas?”
She had no answer for that. Nothing she could say felt right to her. She couldn’t deny it, she couldn’t very well admit to it . . .
Finally, he saved her by saying, “Well, if you do fall in love with him, that’s okay with me.”
“It is?”
He nodded, then stood up to go wash his hands as well.
Scarlett was floored. Never in a million years had she expected to have such a nice conversation with her son. Was Topeka some kind of land of miracles? And here she’d always thought it was just a town in Kansas.
“Well now,” Jane said, motioning across the lawn. “Would you look at that?”
Scarlett Carlson and her children were making their way toward them, Freddy’s hand tucked in Scarlett’s, and for once, the boy looked content. He was actually a rather attractive child when he didn’t have his face all screwed up like a crumpled piece of paper.
Thora shielded her eyes to get a good look at the little family, then grinned. “Their whole demeanor has changed, hasn’t it? She seems much more relaxed, the children seem happier—what a nice improvement. I wonder what did it.”
Maude grunted. “It’s Peter—he’s what did it. I always knew that young man had something special in him, but I have to say, he’s impressed me over the course of this last week.”
Scarlett and the children reached the table where the widows were sitting. “Thank you so much for inviting us to this lovely picnic,” Scarlett said. “We’ve been looking forward to it.”
“We decided we just had to do something to celebrate this perfect weather,” Jane replied. That was true, but not entirely—they’d also needed a way to bring Peter and Scarlett together in a social setting. It was all well and good to discuss Freddy’s errands, but no two people ever fell in love while discussing the doings of an eight-year-old boy.
“Oh, look, Mama! There’s Eliza!” Princess Amaryllis said, pointing toward the house.
“Don’t point, May, and yes, of course you must go see her,” Scarlett said. The girl gave the grandmothers a nod, then scampered off across the grass. “Freddy, why don’t you go see if those boys need another player for stickball?”
Freddy looked uncertain. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never met them before.”
Maude stood up. “I’ll introduce you. That tall one is my grandson Jackson, Peter’s brother. He’s fourteen, so he’s a little older than you are, but he’s a crackerjack stickball player, and you’ll have a good time.”
Freddy glanced at Scarlett, and she gave him a nod. “All right. If he’s Mr. Thomas’s brother, I’m sure he’s nice,” he said.
“Oh, he’s very nice. That’s because he knows he won’t get any pie otherwise.” Maude gave Freddy a wink and led him away.
Scarlett watched them go with a smile on her face. “Just how many Thomases are there?”
“Well, let’s put it this way,” Jane said. “You recall in the Bible how the Lord promises Abraham that his descendants will be as numerous as the sand on the seashore?”
“Yes, I think so,” Scarlett replied.
“Just imagine that Abraham’s last name was Thomas. That should help you a bit.”
Scarlett laughed. She sounded light and free, and Jane was happy to hear it. This young lady deserved some joy in her life, and it was time she found it.
“Where’s Mr. Thomas?” she asked after a moment.
“He’s bringing his mother and her famous cherry pies,” Jane said. “She needed someone to drive the buggy while she kept everything from toppling over.”
“It’s a bit early for cherries, isn’t it?”
“Oh, not for Gladys Thomas. Her trees know better than to make her wait around.” Jane nodded toward the road. “Here they come now.”
She watched with curiosity as Scarlett’s eyes lit up. Yes, this girl was smitten, and there was no other explanation for it. A few of the partygoers gathered around the buggy to help collect the pies and carry them over to the long table down the center of the yard, and then Pet
er gave a hand to his mother. He made sure she had everything she needed out of the buggy, and then he walked across the grass to join Scarlett.
“I’m glad you were able to make it,” he said. “It’s a perfect day for a picnic, but having you here makes it even better.”
Well, of all the sweet things to say. Jane all but beamed with pride—their project was going exactly according to plan.
“The children were up before dawn this morning wondering if it was time to leave yet,” Scarlett replied. “It’s been all I could do to keep them entertained.”
“Maybe our next picnic should be at breakfast time,” Jane said. “Less waiting around.”
“Oh, I like that idea,” Thora replied. “I don’t enjoy waiting either.”
Peter held out his arm. “Will you walk with me? I’d like to introduce you to some people.”
Scarlett took his arm, and they moved off toward the various families.
“Would you look at that?” Thora nodded toward them. “They fit together so companionably. They almost look like a couple out of a Jane Austen novel.”
“I have to agree,” Jane replied. “I believe we did very well this time around.”
Bonnie approached the table, carrying a new pitcher of lemonade. “Are your glasses empty yet?”
“Mine is,” Jane said, and her friend moved from place to place, making sure every spot was properly hydrated even if the person sitting there had wandered off for a moment. A moment later, Maude returned, shaking her head but looking pleased.
“Jackson took Freddy right under his wing and is showing him how to pitch,” she reported. “I’d be naïve to think all that boy’s troubles are over, but I’m astonished at the improvement in his behavior just in the last few days. He’s speaking respectfully, he introduced himself politely, and I don’t believe he’s run anyone over as of yet.”
“Then why are you shaking your head?” Thora asked.
“Oh, it’s just children these days,” Maude replied. “They’re already asking Freddy if Peter’s his new daddy.”
“And what did Freddy say?” Jane wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear the answer—if the boy took the question wrong, it could lead to another undesirable meltdown.
“He actually said he’d be glad of it. Of course, he could very well change his mind if the wedding were an actuality, but at least he’s handling the idea of it so far.” Maude looked thoughtful. “There’s a lot of good in that boy, and I think the Thomases are just the ones to bring it out.”
“As I said all along.” Viola gave a sharp nod.
Chapter Seven
It had seemed so natural to take Mrs. Carlson by the arm that Peter had thought nothing of it until he realized how it must appear. Then he wondered why that mattered. These people were his friends, his family, and they would be the first to hear any good news he had to share—there was nothing wrong with them knowing that he was falling in love with this auburn-haired woman at his side.
He introduced her to the various different families, then led her over to the front porch swing where they could watch all the festivities while he spoke to her. He had so much on his mind, he hardly knew where to begin, and he also doubted his timing. How could any sane man proclaim his feelings to a woman he’d only known a week? That wasn’t the way of it, and he knew it. But then again, why did it matter? Theirs wouldn’t be a traditional courtship anyway—there was very little that was traditional about Mrs. Carlson’s situation.
Then he chuckled.
“What is it?” she asked, turning to look at him.
“Oh, I was just thinking that it’s probably time I asked to call you Scarlett,” he replied. “Considering that I’m about to reach over and take your hand.”
“You are?”
“Yes. And it’s rather nice of me to give you a warning so you’re not overly startled.” He did as he’d said, interlacing his fingers with hers. He liked the feel of her hand. It was small, but strong, and he could feel small calluses from her needle. This was a dainty woman who also knew how to work hard and wasn’t afraid to do it.
“I’m not sure why you’d want to hold my hand, Mr. Thomas.”
He tilted his head. Should he let go? He didn’t want to, and she didn’t pull away, so he decided not to. “What do you mean?”
She gave a shrug. “Look at all these families—I certainly don’t fit in here. They must be wondering why I was invited.”
“You’re here for two reasons. The first, I already told you—Eliza would be devastated without her best friend.” Peter took a deep breath. Should he dive in, or should he change the subject? He couldn’t see any benefits to waiting, but he didn’t want to scare Scarlett away.
“And the other reason?”
“I would be devastated too.”
There. He’d said it. Now he just needed to gauge her reaction.
She sat perfectly motionless, with no expression on her face whatsoever.
So much for her reaction. It was time for him to press the issue. “Do you remember when we first met?”
“Yes, of course. We were at a party much like this one.”
Good. She hadn’t been turned into a pillar of salt after all. He kept going, feeling as though any minute, both feet could come flying out from beneath him.
“I crossed the yard to meet you as though I was being pulled by an invisible chain. I had no choice—my feet were moving entirely of their own accord. There was something about you that captivated me, enchanted me, and called me to you.”
Scarlett’s hand flew to her throat. “I . . . What?”
He continued as though he hadn’t heard her spluttering. “When I saw your children, I assumed you were married, and I walked off. I should have stayed, I should have asked more questions, but there’s nothing I can do to change that now. What I can do is confess that my feelings haven’t changed, and they’re stronger than ever.”
She looked at him with utter astonishment. “Your feelings? You have feelings for me?”
“Yes, I most certainly do.”
She shook her head. “But you can’t. I’m the least suitable person in Topeka you could have chosen. I’ve been married, and to an abusive drinker, don’t forget. I have children. I’m not one of these . . .” She flapped her hand at some of the younger girls who had gathered near the punch bowl. “I’m far beyond my sweet sixteenth birthday and giggling about boys behind their backs. Don’t you want someone who hasn’t been jaded by life, who has a fresh perspective on things?”
“There was a time when I thought that’s what I wanted, but then I realized I was wrong. I need someone who balances me and supports me, and who I can balance and support in return. And your children—Scarlett, I love your children. I love Princess Amaryllis and her chatter and her imagination. I love Freddy and his desire to figure out what it means to be a man.” The longer Peter spoke, the more his chest ached. He meant every word, and he was coming to realize how deeply it would hurt if she turned him away.
“Most of all . . .” He reached out and touched her hair. “Most of all, I’m madly in love with their mother.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I am. The way you look at me sometimes with those soft eyes—you could melt me like a snowball right here if you wanted to. And would you like to know what else?”
“There’s more?”
“There’s absolutely more!” He stood up and pulled her into his arms. “There’s this.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, finding that her lips were every bit as sweet as he’d imagined them. In fact, she fit into his arms perfectly—like a custom suit or a match made in heaven. He wondered if he’d acted too spontaneously, but then her arms came around his neck, and she was kissing him in return.
When he let her go, he grinned. “What do you say? Do I have a chance?”
She pressed a hand to her head. “You’ve caught me so completely off guard, I almost don’t have an answer for you. It’s all just too good to be true.”
“Yes. I’ve been falling for you ever since that day in your office.”
He grinned again. “The day we had our first argument?”
“It wasn’t an argument. It was a discussion.”
“All right, our first discussion.” He took her hand in his and rubbed the back of it. “Ever since then, huh?”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you could ever want me.”
“Maybe we should have made that part of our conversation. You know, getting that straight while we were hammering out everything else.”
She laughed. “Oh, I’m sure that would have been a very interesting conversation indeed, considering that we’d just met.”
“We aren’t too far past that now, you know.”
“I know, but a lot has happened, and you don’t always need a lot of time to make a decision when it’s right, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t need a lot of time. You just need the right girl.” He swallowed. “Scarlett Carlson, I would like to court you. May I come calling tonight at seven?”
“Yes, Peter Thomas, you may.”
He was just about to kiss her again when a shout of “Hooray!” came from the bushes near the porch, and they both startled. Princess Amaryllis jumped out of her hiding place and ran up the porch steps, throwing her arms around Peter’s waist. “Thank you!” she cried out.
He chuckled and returned the hug. “For what?” he asked. “For loving your mama?”
“Yes, but for everything!” She let him go and dug in her pocket, extracting two pennies. “And here you go. You said I should keep it until you were successful—you’ve earned it!” She gave her mother a hug, then raced down the steps again to find Eliza, who had been waiting for her nearby.
Peter looked down at the two pennies in his hand, then started to laugh.
“What’s that?” Scarlett asked.
“My wages. I work for her, you see.” He wrapped his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and held her close. “I can certainly think of worse jobs I could have.”
Epilogue
The Ties That Bind Page 7
