Bittersweet (18 page)

“Laney wasn’t asking you to,” Ma said as she stood up and started clearing the dishes. “She’s sharing with you.”

Ivy grinned. “I’m much obliged—’specially if ’n you got some like the one at yore throat. That one’s so purdy, makes me wanna cry.”

Laney reached up and grazed her fingertips across the item.

“Oh, this isn’t a button. It’s a cameo—a piece of jewelry. It belonged to my mother.”

“Hmm.” Ivy leaned across the table and squinted. “Yore ma shore was a purdy woman.”

“That’s not her mother, Ivy.” Ruth looked at the lovely piece. “It’s a shell someone carved and made into a beautiful picture.”

“Aye, ’tis beautiful.” Jumping at the opportunity to compliment Laney, Galen went on, “No wonder Ivy thought that comely woman was Laney’s mother. I’ve thought on occasion that their features are much alike.”

Laney tucked her chin and looked down at the cameo. “Thank you.”

Pleased at how he’d praised her beauty, Galen rose. “We’ve work waiting for us, Ishmael. Let’s get going.”

“That was a fine meal.” Galen laid his napkin on the table. When Josh had asked him to join them for supper after church, he had happily accepted.

“We’re glad you could share it with us.” Josh patted Ruth’s hand. “Aren’t we?”

“Galen’s always welcome. Galen, your mother mentioned she’d enjoy a new book to read. Why don’t we all walk over to the cottage, and you can find a few to take home to her?”

“Good idea.” Josh nodded. “You saw the books we brought back from the fair. What you probably don’t know is, Ruthie’s been ordering books. And books. And more books. That little yellow cabin that once was her father’s place is now chockfull of crates of books.”

“The library is in honor of my mama. I refuse to skimp on it.” Ruth shot Josh a smile. “And you have no room to complain. Just the other day, you handed me a list of books you thought we ought to add.” She turned to Galen. “My husband should be glad that cabin is there. Otherwise, I’d be filling up the parlor.”

“You still might,” Josh teased.

“Laney’s been a big help to me. Galen, I’m sure she could help you find something interesting for your mother to read.”

“I’m not sure what she’d like. Laney, you and Ma both crochet. Maybe you could help me pick out something with patterns for her.”

Laney searched for a way to avoid going. Being around Galen hurt—and of all people, Josh and Ruth ought to understand. They’d counseled her to leave Galen alone because he’d never love her. And now instead of helping keep Galen away, Josh had invited him over for Sunday supper.

“I’m not going,” Hilda said with a sniffle. “No use in my getting any more books when I’m only halfway through the one I got.”

“Ruth can assist you,” Laney told Galen as she stood and started to stack plates. “I’ll help Hilda in the kitchen.”

“Nonsense.” Hilda brushed Laney’s hands away. “You young people go on ahead.”

Just as they stepped off the porch, Ruth stopped. “I forgot to tell Hilda something.”

“We’ll wait for you,” Laney said.

“Oh, go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”

Josh walked on one side of Laney and Galen took the opposite side.
I’m glad I’m wearing my Sunday-best gown. Three petticoats and a
crinoline give me an excuse to stay back a little
.

“Hey, Toledo!” Josh waved. “I need to speak with you about something important.” He strode off and threw over his shoulder, “I’ll join you soon.”

The cottage was only a stone’s throw away. If Laney refused to accompany Galen, it would be rude. After all, he was a guest at the Broken P and Ruth had offered him access to the library books. As long as the door remained open and Josh was close by, she couldn’t very well demure and bring up proprieties.

“I recall the first step on the cottage porch being a mite loose the last time we were here.” Galen threaded her arm through the crook of his elbow. “Here.”

“You’re most kind.” Just walking beside him made her heart patter faster; looking up into his clear blue eyes left her longing to be his bride. And looking at him was a mistake. A huge mistake. He studied her quietly, and Laney could feel the heat of a virulent blush start at her throat and sweep up her face. She quickly compressed the sides of her hoops and skittered sideways between several boxes. “I seem to recall seeing some books on handwork back here.”

“Where?”

Galen’s deep voice near her ear made her jump. “Oh! Um … in this box.” She patted the crate.

“Let’s set you aside.” He cupped his big hands around her waist and effortlessly lifted and moved her. As he set her down, he grinned. “I don’t want to drop the crate on any of your dainty little toes.”

“I hope I’m not putting you through any unnecessary work. Ruth and I tried to repack books of the same variety in crates. Since the lid’s back on that one—”

“Prying off a few lids is no problem.” He pulled that crate from a shoulder-high stack and used a crowbar to open it. As he removed the lid, he cast a long look at her. “You were right. I’m seeing books on sewing and such.”

“Good!” Relief flooded her. They’d grab the first one, and she could dash off.

“I’m wondering about flowers. You know how Ma loves flowers. Let’s find her a book of patterns that show how to crochet something pretty.”

“Your mother’s flower garden is always a joy.”

A sad smile crossed his face. “This past year she didn’t have much time for that. Had it not been for all the help you and Ruth gave, Ma’s flower patch would have been nothing but weeds.”

“We’re always willing to come help her. I do hope you’ll feel free to mention her needs to us.”

“You’ve a generous spirit, Laney. You’ve helped with everything from baking to weeding whilst Da’s health failed, and afterward, you took my family off to the fair so they’d not wallow in their grief. You even bought Hortense for Dale.”

“That was a business decision.” Laney pulled a book from the box and started to leaf through it. “Hortense and Mr. Snout make a nice couple.” As soon as she spoke the words, Laney wished she hadn’t. She’d just dithered her way into sounding like a matchmaker for hogs! Well, Miss Genevieve taught the girls at her finishing school to laugh off slips of the tongue and divert attention. “You must be proud of Dale. He’s been very responsible.”

“Aye, he’s trying hard. He knows full well you rescued his pet and wants to make you glad you’re his partner.” Galen chuckled. “You’re such a refined lady, it ought to stretch my imagination that you’d care a whit about Hortense. But it doesn’t. You see the needs of others and step in to help. Take Ivy, for instance. That green dress—”

Laney leafed through the book. She held it out to Galen when she found a page with an illustration of a crocheted dresser scarf that featured roses all about the edges.

Galen shook his head. “Ma could crochet roses in her sleep. Those camellias Ruth got for her—she surely does treasure them. Could we find a camellia, perhaps?”

“I’m afraid they’d look much like roses.”

“Hmm. What’s your favorite flower?”

“I like the scent of lilies of the valley, but daffodils always cheer me up.”

He reached into the box, rummaged past a few books, and pulled out another. “Let’s find both. It’ll be nice for Ma to have a choice.”

They continued to search and made small talk. Galen shuffled closer so he could lean over the pages she showed him. “You’re sworn to secrecy, Laney. The men of Folsom would think I’ve gone daft if they knew I fretted over a crochet pattern.”

She laughed.

“Having any luck?” Josh asked from the doorway.

“Oh, look! Isn’t this charming?” Laney showed him an illustration. “And it mentions that you can use colored string for the flower petals and stems.”

“That’s grand!” Galen set aside the book he’d thumbed through. “In fact, I’m so sure that’s what Ma would want to make, I won’t need another choice for her.”

Ruth came over, and Galen admired the sheer volume of books she’d acquired for the library she was starting. Not long thereafter, he mentioned needing to get home and left.

Ruth, Josh, and Laney went back home and sat in the parlor as they usually did on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Josh picked up a newspaper. “This advertisement says the mercantile just got a shipment of veterinarian medicaments. I’m going to need to restock for the winter.”

“Oats.” Ruth patted his arm. “Be sure to pick up a few bags of oats. I like to give Maxie a treat after I ride her. It’s just a pity oats don’t come in pretty sacks.”

Josh smiled. “Are you already scheming to make another dress for Ivy? Galen mentioned the other one is almost done. Laney Lou, he’s pleased you gave those green sugar sacks to Ivy. That flour sack dress is all she owns.”

“It was good, you making sure Ivy got those sacks.” Ruth bobbed her head. “Mrs. O’Sullivan tells me the Grubbs haven’t ever stepped foot in a church.”

Josh turned to the next page in his newspaper. “Galen and his mother are trying to be solid Christian witnesses. I agree with him. We shouldn’t do a bunch of preaching; let the Holy Spirit do the rest. We’ll follow Galen’s example and simply love them.”

Slowly, Laney rested her teacup on the saucer and set it on the table.
Am I mistaking Galen’s simple kindness as interest? Was I right
originally when I thought he might have a tender spot for Ivy?
Her thoughts whirled and fear’s bitter taste banished the honeyed sweetness of the tea as Galen’s words swept through her mind.
“She’s different.
It’s complicated… . Love them… .”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

C
areful now,” Josh directed as Galen and Ishmael fit the third stained glass window into its place. When Ruth discovered her inheritance was to be immense, she’d wanted to use it for good causes. The library was one of her many projects; these stained glass windows were another. While on their wedding trip, she and Josh commissioned an artist to make them. A few months ago, they’d taken an afternoon away from the fair to go and approve of the designs.

“Oh, Ruth. This one’s my favorite,” Laney whispered as the men eased the last window into place “I’ve been impatient to have them here. Now I’m glad Josh insisted on hanging all of them on the same day. I would have pestered the artist to hurry up if he’d sent the first one when it was done.”

“Niver thunk glass could be so heavy,” Ishmael said just before his hand slipped.

“Whoa!” Galen braced the window and nudged the final corner into place.

“Glad you men were available to help me today,” Josh said.

“I was coming to town anyway.” Galen carefully tapped another finishing nail into the wood molding to keep the window in place, then started sealing it with glazing compound. “I’ve not missed voting even once, and if ever I wanted to let my voice be heard, sure and enough today’s election is the one.”

“The nation’s future rests on the results,” Josh said from nearby.

“Them men all speechifyin’ and posters hangin’ ever’whar, and newspapers all spoutin’ off differ’nt opinions …” Ishmael shook his head. “It stretches the imagination that anybody cain make sense of it all and figger out who to vote for, for president.”

“Aye, you said a mouthful there, you did.” Galen wiped a small spot on the window. “’Tis rather like this stained glass. When a man gets this close, he can’t see the whole picture—just bits and pieces. I had to step back and ask God to shine the light on it.”

Laney looked up. “That image you just painted with your words—it makes more sense than just about anything I’ve heard or read.”

“I agree.” Ruth shoved back one of her irrepressible curls. “And I agree with Josh—we’re fortunate that Galen and Ishmael could come help with the windows. It’s certainly been a blessing that Galen knows all about glazing,” Ruth added. “I didn’t know we needed to seal the edges. Did you, Laney?”

“No.”

“It doesn’t take long.” Galen daubed the compound into place and smoothed it down the side with his thumb.

Laney wasn’t sure why he’d given her the job of holding the glazing compound. She’d needed to stand quite near him as he scooped out what he needed and applied it to the edges of all three windows. Truth be told, the can would have fit on the ledge. Instead of pointing out that fact, Ruth had pushed the can into Laney’s hand and nudged her into helping.
She told me to stay away
from Galen, and here she is pushing me at him
.