Molly had slipped away. Didn’t her father even know where she was? Maybe she had been running away. “Thank you for staying for the wedding. It means a lot to Molly and me.”
She touched his shoulder. “I wouldn’t think of missing it. I’m going out there and paint that music room you’re preparing for Molly. I can’t hang the drapes until you get the windows in, but I can paint. I’m assuming you won’t have time and can’t afford wall-paper, so I snatched a pail of pale blue paint. It will be lovely with the dark blue drapes and gold ties with tassels.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I can afford the paint, and I only have two walls up yet.”
“Don’t worry about that. Father said they’d donate it and the gold tassels.”
“I sure do appreciate it, but you don’t have to do all that.”
“I’ll help too.”
Luke jerked to the side. He hadn’t even heard Tillie Johnston coming up behind.
Mandy clutched a fist to her chest like the calvary had arrived. “Oh, thank you, Tillie. With your help, we can make new curtains for the bedroom. I bet Luke hadn’t even thought of fixing that up.”
Actually, he had. Just bringing his bride in there had his blood boiling every evening as he lay down. But he’d not thought there was time to do much more than clean out a shelf in the chest of drawers and make the bed. “I really appreciate you ladies, but don’t tell Molly. I’m wanting her to see everything all fixed up.” He sent a glance down the street. “After I pick up the lumber at Dag’s, I’ll go with you this afternoon and help you get started.”
Tillie winked. “Don’t you think any more about it. Me and Mandy will go on out. We know what to do. You got plenty of other stuff to do.” She tilted her head, giving him a bird-like gaze. “Why don’t you ask some of the men to help with the building? We used to have barn-raisings and house-raisings all the time.”
“Everybody has so much to do this time of year with crops and getting ready for the festival.”
“Posh. They can drop that stuff if a neighbor is in need.”
He didn’t doubt that, but he already had the house and a barn. They might think building a music room too frivolous to take them away from their normal duties.
Tillie must have seen the uncertainty in his eyes. She gave him a push. “Go on and skedaddle with you. Mandy and me will take care of everything.”
Mandy put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. “Luke Ferrell, have you even talked with Molly about the wedding plans?”
“No, I haven’t seen her since church.”
Tillie’s mouth dropped and she pointed a boney finger at him. “You better start spending more time with Molly. A lady doesn’t like being neglected, especially not by the man she’s going to marry.”
That slapped him in the face. Had he been neglecting Molly? It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see her. She was in his thoughts from the first light of day till he dropped off at night, and even then, she dominated his dreams. It was almost like she was with him all the time. Except she wasn’t.
Besides, she might ask something about the war, and he couldn’t talk about that. He would when he got up the courage and he was sure she wouldn’t leave him. Maybe after their third child.
“You’re right. Miss Tillie, could I pick a few more of your flowers to take to Molly?”
“Yes, I think you ought to. In fact, if I was you, I’d take her flowers every day until the wedding.”
He grinned and sketched a little bow. “Thank you, ladies, for helping out at the house and setting me straight.”
He turned to go but Tillie stopped him. “Don’t forget the deacon’s meeting tomorrow night.”
His head dropped and he nodded. Lord, I’m going to need You to stretch the hours of the day for me.
Chapter 13
The words of a talebearer are as wounds. Proverbs 18:8
The patient bay mare waited for Molly to mount. Ella had loaned her the use of her gentlest horse, but this was the first time Molly had needed to prevail on her generosity.
She balanced on the sidesaddle and adjusted her skirt, her muscles had just lost the soreness from her ride with Luke. The stitch in her side reminded her of why she hated a sidesaddle. Maybe she’d never learned to ride one properly, but she vowed when on the farm, she’d ride astride, wearing her habit with the full skirt that billowed over the saddle.
The day was fine and she could have walked to town, but she didn’t want to stay away from the house too long in case Luke showed up. She’d been disappointed that he hadn’t joined them for supper since that first day, though Mrs. Milton had invited him.
But he had much to do, so she refused to fret about it. She did fret about not hearing from Daddy. A stop at the post office was her first destination. He might have addressed a letter to the town, although she’d left him Ella’s street address.
Surely after all this time, he would have written before he left for Aunt Sadie’s.
“I do have a letter for you, Miss,” the man behind the counter said.
Molly’s heart sped. Daddy had written.
But the letter wasn’t from Daddy. Her heart dropped as she spied Becky Hinson’s flowery script. Becky was her friend from the Jarrell Plantation. “Thank you, sir.”
Out on the boardwalk she opened the envelope. Becky’s letter was short, mainly full of questions. Was Molly married yet? How did she like the place? Was it still cold?
In late June?
Becky mentioned nothing about Daddy, which left Molly wondering if she or her husband had even seen him. But one thing was sure. If Becky’s letter could get to her by now, Daddy’s would have also. Tears stung her eyes. He wasn’t ready to forgive her. If he ever would. This was something she wished to share with Luke. If he wasn’t so busy.
She took the reins and walked Burt down the street to the mercantile. Might as well do her shopping and return to Ella’s. The bright sunshine couldn’t break through the cloud of despair hanging over her.
For attendants’ gifts, she planned to purchase plain handkerchiefs in various colors. She’d trim the handkerchiefs with white lace from one of her old dresses and monogram the corner with each of her attendants’ initials. And she’d do one for Ella as well.
The empty store greeted her with familiar smells, much like the little country store in Juliette. Handkerchiefs might be in the fabric department. Anyway, the colorful calicos drew her. She’d need to sew up a few sturdy farm dresses. All her garments were of the rich fabrics of her mother’s wardrobe. Beautiful, but too delicate for slopping the hogs, as Molly had discovered back in Georgia.
She ran her hand over the bolts, wondering if Luke could afford them. They’d not discussed finances either. A shuffling at the back of the store caught her attention. Mrs. Carter came from behind the green curtain that separated the counter from the back.
Molly wove her way around the aisles, but Mrs. Carter was clearly preoccupied with something and didn’t look up until Molly reached the counter and cleared her throat.
“Oh, I didn’t know anyone was about. You’re Ella’s new girl, aren’t you?”
She made it sound like Molly was Ella’s new servant. “Yes, Molly Stewart. You offered me a ride when I arrived in town.”
The look of amazement in Mrs. Carter’s eyes appeared pretentious to Molly. “Of course, now I recall. You came in on the same train as my Mandy.” She lifted her shoulders and gazed around as though looking for something. “Well, what can I do for you this fine day.” Mrs. Carter must have that habit of not making eye contact when she spoke.
“Do you have some unembellished handkerchiefs—you know, the type I could embroider?”
“Oh, my, yes, I have dozens of handkerchiefs.” She laughed, coming from behind the counter. “Hundreds.”
Molly followed the woman to a tall shelving unit stacked with sheets and towels.
Mrs. Carter squatted with a grunt and came up with a box of handkerchiefs. Molly stuck
her head over the array of colored and white handkerchiefs, pleased with the selection. She plucked a rose, a blue, a yellow, and a gray. “I’ll take these, and I need a skein of white embroidery thread.”
Mrs. Carter took the handkerchiefs and snagged the thread on her way back to the counter. “Have too much time on your hands, dear?” she asked over her shoulder.
“No, these are gifts for my matrons-of-honor.”
“You’re getting married?” She swung around with a feigned surprised look on her face.
Mrs. Carter had to know about the wedding. Nothing in town got past her, or so it was said. Molly smiled. “Yes, July third. Mrs. Milton wanted it held during the Independence Festival. They’re making such a to-do of it and won’t let me lift a finger to help.”
“How sweet of them. I fear I won’t be able to do much at the festival because Mr. Carter wants to keep the mercantile open for all the visitors. That will be thirty-five cents.”
Molly picked out the coins from the bottom of her reticule and plunked them on the counter. “Didn’t Mandy tell you about the wedding?”
Mrs. Carter slipped the coins off the edge of the counter and dropped them in her cashbox. “No, she hasn’t.” She wrapped the handkerchiefs and thread in paper, folding it with a practiced hand.
“She hasn’t returned to New York? Maybe she’ll agree to be my bridesmaid if she’s still here for the wedding.” Molly knew Mandy hadn’t returned to New York, but if Mrs. Carter could play ignorance, so could she. She took the box. “Is Mandy here? I’d like to ask her now.”
Mrs. Carter’s mouth twisted to one side. “Why, no, she went out to Luke’s place.”
“Oh.” She ought to just walk away. Mrs. Carter was baiting her, she just knew it, but questions were crowding in. “Luke is too busy for visitors, surely.”
“She’s helping him get the house in order. They were always close, you know. Mandy frequently goes out to the farm.”
“I see.” Molly took her package. “Thank you and have a good day, Mrs. Carter.”
The day that had promised to be so lovely had turned cloudy. To match her mood. She contemplated riding out to the farm, more to talk to Mandy than Luke. He would be in the fields at this time of day. But he didn’t want her to see the place until after the wedding.
Why had Mandy changed her plans? Had she let her parents talk her into postponing her return to New York? In spite of Mandy’s bravado, she might be as much under their thumbs as Molly had been under her father’s.
Did Daddy think if he didn’t correspond, she’d let her fears get the better of her and return to Georgia?
She went back inside the store and marched to the counter. “I’d like to get that lilac handkerchief too, if you please.” Molly would ask Mandy to be her maid of honor. Since she would be here for the wedding, hopefully, she’d agree.
Mrs. Carter huffed like she didn’t want to be bothered, but she fetched the handkerchief while Molly fished out the coin to pay for it. “No need to repackage it, I’ll just stick it in my reticule. Thank you. Oh, and when Mandy returns, would you tell her I’d like to have her join us for supper tonight at six.”
It was imperative she talk to Mandy as soon as possible.
It took three tries to mount Burt, but with the clouds lowering, Molly turned the horse around and headed back to Ella’s.
Chapter 14
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. James 5:16
Curtis Mills droned on and on about the church’s budget as he usually did at the monthly deacons meeting. Tonight his subject was repairs to the steeple and the high price of the bids they’d received, and the men could do the work themselves for much less. Luke half listened, his nerves stretching tighter with each argument against Mr. Mills’s proposition.
If the men of the church didn’t have time to work on the church steeple, they surely wouldn’t have time to help him. But he’d prayed over it, and he was bound to ask.
“Then that’s it,” Brother Luther said. “We are all agreed to accept the lowest bid presented by Mr. Layton.”
“Aye,” everyone said.
“If you insist, I’ll send Mr. Layton our acceptance,” Curtis Mills grumbled.
“Is there any new business to discuss?” Brother Luther asked.
Luke drew in a fortifying breath, and lifted a hand. “I know everybody is busy this time of year, but…I…need…I’d like to ask a favor.”
“Anyone want more coffee?” Tillie came from the back with the coffeepot aloft.
“I’ll take another cup,” Brother Luther said. “What’s the favor, Luke?”
“You all know I’m getting married next week, and I haven’t got the house finished yet and don’t look like I can without help—what with working at the sawmill.”
No one said anything, and he plowed on. “It rained in the new room, almost wetting the piano because I didn’t have the roof finished. I’d sure like to get that on if any of you could spare a little time.”
Questioning looks bounced around the room. Brother Luther swiped a hand over his mouth. “I’d sure be willing to help, Luke, but I don’t know much about construction and I have to go over to Pikesville tomorrow, but I’ll come out to your place Saturday, if you can tell me what to do.”
Luke coughed in his fist. Brother Luther might cost him more time than he’d gain from his help.
“I have a trip coming up too,” Mr. Mills said.
“I’d like to help out, Luke, but I’m right in the middle of replanting the wheat field,” Hal Jacobs added.
A litany of different excuses followed.
Tillie plopped the coffeepot on the table loud enough to make them jump. “Now you all listen to me. There’s nothing any of you got so pressing as helping a man get a roof over his head. Especially, when that man’s Luke Ferrell. He’s always willing to drop anything and help out a neighbor.” She marched before each one on a rant. “He can’t bring his bride into a house that’s busted open. Now in the old days, we’d have a house raising when a young couple got married. I say we all get together tomorrow and finish up Luke’s house. The ladies can fix a big meal and help out where we can.”
When she finished, an uncomfortable silence had all the men squirming, including Luke. He didn’t mean to cause them any trouble, and he knew as well as anyone how busy the town was, getting ready for the festival.
Brother Luther finally broke the quiet. “Tillie is as right as the Good Book. Scripture says we show we’re Christians by having love for one another, and the Lord commands that we have love for our neighbor. To my way of thinking that means we help each other. I can put off my trip. I’ll be out there early tomorrow morning. I’m not much of a carpenter, but I’ll do what I can.”
Dag slapped Luke on the shoulder. “I can’t get off, Luke, but you can wait until after you’ve settled in with your new wife before coming back to the sawmill to work off your debt for the lumber.”
Luke shook his hand. “Thank you, Dag. I’ll put in an extra week to make up for it.”
Mr. Mills cleared his throat. “Luke, come back by the bank, and we’ll set up a loan for you to buy those cows so you can get your dairy farm started. You’ll have a family to support now and that makes a difference.” He laughed. “And I’m like Brother Luther, I don’t know much about carpentry, but I’ll be out there tomorrow and Saturday too, if we don’t finish by the end of the day.”
Mr. Carter came to Luke’s other side. “I’ll be there in the morning and donate the paint. I can paint too.”
Luke about fell out hearing that offer. Everyone said the Carters were stingy, but they’d already donated paint for the inside and cloth for drapes. “Thank you, Mr. Carter. I think I have enough paint, but a second coat wouldn’t hurt.”
Every man came forward to offer his help. Tillie let out a hoot. “We’re going to have a rip-roaring house raising—or, in this case, a hou
se adding.”
Luke leaned in and kissed her wrinkled cheek. “Thank you, Tillie. If you ever need anything, let me know.”
“I always do, son. Did you give the flowers to Molly? I noticed some of the white roses missing.”
“She wasn’t at home when I took them, but I’m stopping by there after I leave here.”
“Yes, you’d better do that. We’ll take care of the work. You take care of your bride.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, I better go round up the ladies.” She gathered her skirts and dashed out like she was on the way to a fire.
Luke left the church in high spirits. How foolish was he not to have asked for help before now. Ask and ye shall be given. Why did people not take the scripture seriously? Not wanting to impose on friends was probably rooted in pride, wanting to depend on oneself alone. But that meant he didn’t trust in God, on Whom he was totally dependent.
Well, not any longer. Tillie was sure right about his need to spend time with Molly. And not only time, he had to share himself with her. Share everything. Like what happened down there in Georgia on Sherman’s march.
Beginning tonight.
He turned off Ottertail Road and the lights of Ella Milton’s farmhouse beckoned him like a ship to harbor. Feckless needed no urging either and picked up his pace. “You think Josiah has some oats waiting for you, don’t you, boy?” Luke patted the horse’s side. “I expect you’re right.”
Leaving Feckless to his oats, he strode the paved path to the front steps. He’d not expected to fall in love with Molly for months after their marriage. Everyone told him true love grew slowly, but now, for the first time, he realized his love had come swiftly, so unexpectedly he hadn’t recognized it until this moment.
Molly was everything he’d ever wanted. She was beautiful, inside and out, kind, considerate, fun to be with, and how he loved listening to the soft cadence of her voice. He wanted to hear her sing. Play that piano.
He didn’t deserve her. Why God would bless him so richly he couldn’t imagine. He’d failed in everything he’d attempted so far. He’d never be a wheat farmer like his grandfather, but with Molly’s help, they would found a dairy farm and raise a family.
Molly's New Song (Brides 0f Pelican Rapids Book 5) Page 8
