Love's First Bloom (26 page)

“I’m fine. It must be the light,” she insisted, not wanting to tell him that her encounter last night had not left her as free from injury as she may have appeared.

“I’ll keep the light on the steps so you won’t fall.” He kept his eyes locked on her until she reached the storeroom floor.

She dropped her skirts and gently rubbed her arms to get them to stop aching, but immediately recognized her mistake when his gaze hardened. “He did hurt you.”

Not a question she could deflect with an excuse of some sort, his statement left no room for denial. With her cheeks burning, she shrugged. “It’s just a few bruises. Nothing serious. But please don’t tell anyone.”

He lifted the lamp until the light fell full on her face. “Since you wouldn’t favor the notion that I follow that brute and make him very sorry that he hurt you, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have him arrested.”

“He came to give me something and apologize tonight because he’s leaving at first light. For good.”

He sighed and lowered the lamp. “I suppose that’ll do, but the next time we’re together and anyone—”

“I’ll let you be gallant and rescue me,” she promised, “as long as you let me say ‘I told you so’ when you end up crippling yourself for life. Agreed?” she asked, extending her hand.

He hesitated before he took her hand in his, then held it for just a moment longer than she thought necessary.

A warm sensation coursed up her arm and spread from limb to limb. But she dismissed her reaction as nothing more than the fact that she had never really held a man’s hand before, other than her father’s. His hands had been as smooth as her own, whereas Jakes’s hand was rough with calluses.

“I’ve seen what I needed to see in the storeroom. I should go.” His voice was husky, and his gaze simmered with something she had never seen before, though she assumed it was nothing more than a glint of hurt pride. “Stay here a moment,” he said and started up the staircase, using the railing for support.

“Where are you going?”

“To put the lamp at the top of the staircase for you.”

Once he had the lamp sitting on the floor in the hall at the top of the stairs, he started back down, blocking the light behind him so all she could see was his silhouette. She stepped aside when he reached the bottom step and he retrieved his cane.

“Tell Mr. Garner when he gets back that the price will be the same, and I’d really appreciate it if you could get him to commit to letting me do the work for him as soon as possible. I haven’t had much work lately and I sorely need the wages.”

“I will,” she promised. Uncomfortable with the embarrassment she detected in his voice, she knew how difficult it must be for this proud man to ask her for help in finding work.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t have to remind you to latch the outer door, as well as the door at the bottom of the staircase after I leave, do I?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to have to save you, especially from yourself, and injure my back even more,” he said, turning her words back against her.

“Aggravating man,” she grumbled after he had left, then latched the door and went upstairs. She picked up the oil lamp and started carrying it back to the sitting room. When she passed by her bedroom, she caught a glimpse of the package from Mr. Flynn sitting on her bed and quickly detoured. She set the oil lamp on a chest of drawers and sat down on the bed, anxious to see what he had given her.

When she unwrapped the package, which was no bigger than the palm of her hand, tears sprang to her eyes. Lying in the middle of the crumpled brown paper was a perfectly shaped white heart hanging from a worn strip of leather. She picked up the heart and held it to the light and realized it had not been carved from stone. The ridges on the heart suggested he had carved it from a seashell, similar to the ones she had seen along the shores of the river.

Ruth folded her hand around the simple token of affection Maxwell had made for his Abigail. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer for him, along with a prayer that she would someday find a man who would love her as much as he still loved his late wife.

She might even hope that Jake Spencer would be that man, until she realized that he could never love a woman who had wrongly accused him of lying, yet had lied to him over and over again from the very first day they had met.

Twenty-Seven

The next morning, great rumbles of thunder shook the building and woke Ruth out of a sound sleep. She rose from her bed and looked out the window, but then leaped back a step when a bolt of lightning cracked the sky and startled her. She crossed her sore arms and gently rubbed them from shoulder to elbow while she watched the thunderclouds rolling in.

Within moments thick raindrops were pelting the window, and she sighed. The storm canceled her plans to spend the day in her garden and set the starter plants she had been given into the ground. “At least the rain will keep the roots moist,” she grumbled and then slipped back under the covers. She considered how to spend her day but did not think very long before she decided that since every plan she had made for the past two days had led to one detour after another or some sort of disaster, she would simply let the day unfold.

Satisfied with her decision, she included Maxwell Flynn in her morning prayers and dressed quickly. She brushed her hair, parted it down the middle, pulled it back behind her neck, and held it in place with her comb. Humming softly, she made the bed and went directly to the kitchen to make something for breakfast.

By midday she had dusted and swept out the family’s living quarters, save for the Garners’ bedroom, as usual. She also finished the apron she was making for Phanaby. Eventually, the storm blew its way through the village and, tempted by bright blue skies and warm sunshine, she changed into a work gown and her oversized boots, grabbed a stack of old newspapers along with her silly bonnet, and headed to her garden.

Thankfully, she did not encounter the turkey hen either on the sandy path or the grounds surrounding the cabin. She was both relieved and a bit disappointed not to see any smoke curling up from the cabin chimney, which meant Jake was probably not around. Ruth found she was still sifting through her emotions after their time together the previous evening.

When she finally reached her garden, Ruth found the ground very moist, but not the puddle of mud she had found there the other day, and the starter plants sitting in the bushel basket looked green and healthy.

After retrieving her garden tools from the shed behind the cabin, she returned to the finger of land she had claimed for herself and first arranged the plants out on the ground. Thankfully, each of the women who had given her these plants had given her the name of the flowers that would bloom before the end of summer. They had also given her some idea of how big to expect the plants to grow, which helped her to decide where to plant them in relation to each other.

Once she was satisfied she had every plant in its proper place, she folded the newspapers she had brought along to make a thick pad to use when she knelt down to dig.

Her gloves, boots, and the hem of her skirts wore a thick coat of wet dirt by the time she finished, but she had finally planted her garden. By midsummer, when the garden was in full bloom, the flowers would offer a contrast of yellow and blue blossoms. At the very center, several cup plants would have flowers similar to small sunflowers, which would be surrounded by a circle of daisies. Around those, bellworts with beautiful oval leaves already held yellow-orange flowers that would continue to bloom through the end of next month. And the border of the garden held bluebonnets and daintier bluets.

Ruth drew in a long breath. She had no idea when she first planned this garden that she would actually be here when the flowers would be in full bloom. In all truth, she was not convinced that either she or Lily would be able to stay here for very long. Not with the village so close to New York City and the scandal and notoriety that could still reach out and strangle both of their futures, especially with Robert Farrell planning to return before long.

After spending three days and nights without her little one, Ruth was growing anxious to have her home again. Her feelings for Lily were still confusing. So were her feelings for the man who lived in the cabin behind her.

For now, though, she was satisfied with the work she had done this afternoon. She was ready now to head back to the apothecary and change before everyone arrived home. She lifted the newspapers out of the dirt and dropped them into a hole she had dug beyond her garden. “A rather suitable resting place for you all,” she murmured as she refilled the hole and stamped the spot down again and again with her boot. Then she hurried to the shed to store away her garden tools and leave before Jake returned home.

After a joyful reunion with Lily and the Garners and a fine supper, Ruth tucked Lily into the bottom half of the trundle bed and lay with her a bit longer, even after the toddler had fallen asleep.

Although she knew the Garners were waiting for her in the sitting room, and she was anxious to hear their explanation for extending their trip, lying here with Lily cuddled up against her again had vanquished any and all confusion in her heart. Reluctant to leave just yet, she leaned on an elbow and looked down at the little one sleeping so peacefully beside her, and smiled. Despite the hard work and the challenges she faced every day with Lily, she knew that innocence and purity existed in this world because she could actually see it in that little face. She knew that joy and happiness existed every time Lily explored the world around her. And she knew what it was to love another person because Lily offered that same love to her, freely and without condition, every time she wrapped her little arms around Ruth’s neck and snuggled close for a kiss.

“I don’t know why you came into my life, but I’m truly glad you did. We’ll muddle through somehow until we figure out a way to stay together that will make us both happy,” she whispered and slipped out of the bed.

She tiptoed across the room and eased the door open. After she stepped into the hallway, she turned and left the door open a crack, just in case Lily woke up and called out for her. Following the light shining into the hall from the sitting room, she made her way to where Elias and Phanaby were expecting her.

“I’m sorry if I kept you waiting,” she offered, pleased that Phanaby was still wearing the apron she had made for her.

Elias had pulled one of the chairs that was usually nearer the fireplace to sit facing the settee where Phanaby was sitting. She patted the seat next to her and smiled. “I’m glad you had some time alone with Lily. She’s missed you. Come and sit beside me. There’s much we’d like to tell you about our trip.”

“You said it went well,” Ruth prompted, taking her seat. Earlier, she was relieved when Elias assured her that Farrell had proven to be nothing but a boring nuisance during their journey.

Elias nodded. “It did, but we … that is, we both feel uncomfortable being less than honest with you about why we went to Forked River.”

Phanaby took Ruth’s hand and held it. “We don’t like lying to our friends and neighbors, but we do it because we have no other choice. But we can be and we should be honest with you because you’re the only one here in the village who knows how important Reverend Livingstone’s work was to him and to so many others who supported him like we did.”

Suddenly, the weight of the lies she had told the Garners tugged heavily on Ruth’s conscience. “You weren’t simply visiting your friends?” she asked, looking from Phanaby to Elias and back again.

Elias shook his head. “No, we met secretly with a number of Reverend Livingstone’s other supporters who traveled much greater distances than we to get to Forked River. A few were delayed by bad weather, which is why we had to stay a day more than we had planned,” he explained. “For their sake, I don’t believe it would be necessary or even well advised to tell you their names or where they live, even if we could, but we wanted you to know that a number of ministers have expressed an interest in continuing Reverend Livingstone’s ministry.”