Wishing on Buttercups (12 page)

Jeffery hesitated on the threshold of the parlor. Should he walk away? It appeared Miss Roberts and Mr. Lansing were agreeing upon some kind of tryst. Or, at least, the pompous gentleman standing in front of the young lady had certainly suggested something of the sort, and he hadn’t heard her decline. It seemed she had given him permission to use her Christian name, since she hadn’t corrected the man. That settled it; he had no desire to stay and listen. He swiveled and took a step.

“Jeffery?” Beth’s sweet voice rang out and brought him to an abrupt halt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you enter. You are right on time for our walk.” She rose and tucked a newspaper under her arm. “I have a previous engagement,
Mr.
Lansing. But to answer your question, the name I prefer to be addressed by is Miss Roberts. Good day.” She swept from the room, leaving Mr. Lansing staring after her in disbelief.

Jeffery came out of his stupor and took two long strides, catching up with her. “I am so sorry I’m late, my dear.” He extended his arm. “May I?”

Beth’s lips parted, and she blinked.

Jeffery turned his head and gave a slow wink only she could see.

She slipped her hand through his and held her head high, giving him an engaging smile as he opened the front door.

Jeffery glanced back and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent a grin from appearing. Isaac Lansing stood in the middle of the parlor staring after them, his mouth agape. He couldn’t be more thankful—as well as more than a bit chagrinned—that he’d misread Beth’s attitude toward Lansing.

Jeffery pressed Beth’s hand against his side a little tighter as they walked down the front steps to the path below. “I didn’t realize we’d planned a walk, Miss Roberts, but I’m more than happy to accompany you.”

They strolled half a dozen steps from the porch. A scraping noise sounded above them, and Jeffery peered up at the roof. “Hello, Mr. Jacobs. You’re getting the final coat of paint on the trim, I see.”

Micah Jacobs balanced on the steep roof, a bucket of green paint propped against a block of wood nailed to the shingles, a brush in his hand. “Yes. It’s a good thing the warm weather has hung on so long.” His voice echoed and bounced. “It’s rather precarious up here, but two more dormer windows, and I’m finished.”

Beth shaded her eyes and looked up. “It’s a lovely color. I’m guessing Katherine is pleased.”

“Not as pleased as I will be to get back to my work at the livery.” He dipped his brush into the paint. “I’d best get this painting done.” He waved a green-stained hand.

Beth walked farther down the trail, barely out of earshot of the house, and murmured, “I am so sorry. It was truly despicable of me to use you in that fashion. I do hope you’ll forgive me, Mr. Tucker, and accept my deepest thanks for rescuing me from an uncomfortable situation. I’m in your debt.”

This time he allowed a grin to spill out. “There’s nothing to forgive. I was more than happy to step in and whisk you away from that annoying gentleman. As for being in my debt …”

“Yes?” Her brows arched, and a tiny smile appeared.

“You called me Jeffery in front of Mr. Lansing, so it might be difficult to go back to Mr. Tucker. Is it so abhorrent to address me by my Christian name?”

The smile faded, and she withdrew her hand from his elbow. “No, it is not abhorrent at all.”

He folded his arms. “But?”

She drew in a deep breath and blew it out with a loud sigh. “My, you are inquisitive, aren’t you, Mr. Tucker?”

Jeffery wanted to chuckle at her comical expression, but he schooled his features into neutral lines. “Jeff-er-y. It’s not terribly hard to pronounce.” Gaining this young woman’s trust and friendship might be harder than he’d expected. He flashed a careful smile. “And is being inquisitive a bad thing?”

“You rescued me from a rather thorny circumstance, so I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, but, well …” She withdrew the folded newspaper from under her arm and tapped it against the palm of her hand. “Sometimes you do ask a mite too many questions for my peace of mind.”

He quirked a brow, intrigued by her phrasing. So he’d disturbed her peace of mind, had he? Something to think about when he had more leisure. Probably not the best idea to pursue the subject now, if her frown were any indication of her feelings. “I apologize if I have caused you distress. I’ll do my best not to plague you with an overabundance of questions from this time forward. But …”

Now it was her turn to smile. “Yes, Mr. Tucker?”

“Yes, Jeffery. Yes, Jeffery.” He waved his hand in a circle. “There, now you try.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t reply.

He grinned. “You are aware I am a writer, and as such, we see questions and possibilities in almost everything we come in contact with. Not to mention, my background in the news industry causes me to look for a story in everything around me. It is difficult
not
to ask questions, if you see what I mean. Besides, I admit to a decided interest in getting to know you, and I can think of no better way to accomplish that than asking questions. But we have strayed from the issue at hand.”

A light laugh escaped her mouth. “I’m afraid we have gone down another rabbit trail, Mr. Tucker, so you will need to remind me.”

He tipped his head at a slight angle.

Rosy color tinted her cheeks. “Ah, yes. The matter of the names.” She arched her brows and her eyes twinkled. “How clumsy of me to forget. All right. After all we’ve gone through these past minutes, it does seem we’re co-conspirators of a sort.”

“Wonderful.” A deep pleasure warmed Jeffery’s heart. He wasn’t sure why he worked so hard to gain this woman’s trust. Maybe because the task had been such a challenge. Whatever the case, it felt right now that it was settled. He extended his arm once more. “Would you care to take that walk you promised me earlier?”

A mischievous sparkle lit her eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak, then slowly closed it, giving a small shake of her head.

“What’s wrong? Have I done something?”

“Mr. Lansing is coming. I suppose we should have continued our walk and not lingered so close to the house.”

Jeffery turned. Isaac Lansing stood at the top of the stairs and glanced around, then lifted his hand and waved. The man was fully decked out in a suit of clothing that appeared to have come straight from one of the East Coast’s finest tailors. Jeffery groaned. “Do we have to wait?”

Lansing’s feet hit the walkway, and he started toward them. Good manners forbade running away at this point, although Jeffery was sorely tempted.

A shout split the air. Micah Jacobs stood on the roof, holding the paint can and waving his other arm to keep his balance on the steep pitch. He landed on his backside and dug in his boot heels to stop from sliding. He came to a halt feet from the edge of the roof, but the can of paint catapulted from his grip. It bounced once on the eave of the house and flipped into the air, curving in a wide arc. As though frozen in time, the can hung suspended for a moment, then spun in a circle and landed upside down, directly on Isaac Lansing’s hat.

Beth stared at the comical sight and stifled a giggle. It was quickly apparent Mr. Lansing had suffered no damage, other than to his clothing and pride. The paint can rested upside down, leaving only the hat brim in evidence. Rivers of green ran over the brim and cascaded onto the man’s nose—and every other spot that protruded to any degree. In fact, the bright color ran over his shoulders and dripped onto his shoes.

Micah scrambled for the ladder leaning against the side of the house, and Jeffery darted over to hold it as he clambered down. “You all right, Mr. Lansing?” Micah’s words reached the man before he did.

Lansing stood and simply blinked.

Beth’s body shook as she worked to keep her mirth at bay. If it had been anyone else at all but stuffy, pompous Isaac Lansing … well, she couldn’t help it. The man had been a thorn in her side, and she found this deliciously funny.

Micah took a kerchief from his pocket and handed it to the man, then carefully removed the can from his hat, and then the hat from his head. Dribbles of paint continued to fall from his hair, and a large green drop landed on Lansing’s chin. Micah turned his head but not before Beth detected laughter dancing in his eyes.

Beth could stand it no longer. Even though she clapped her hand over her mouth, her giggle managed to break free.

Jeffery swung around and shot her a startled look.

Beth lifted the newspaper to cover her face. “I’m sorry. But it’s just …” She giggled again. “Too funny.”

Micah and Jeffery stared at her, then back at Isaac Lansing, whose frantic mopping with the once-clean kerchief had done wonders in turning his entire face green but little to correct the mess. All of a sudden Micah erupted in loud guffaws, his shouts of laughter ringing across the clearing.

The front door banged open, and steps thudded down the stairs. Beth looked up through the tears blurring her vision. Katherine, followed by Aunt Wilma and Mrs. Cooper, came to a stop with comical expressions of disbelief. Aunt Wilma was the first to break out of her trance. She plucked a damp cloth from Katherine’s hands and trooped over to the sputtering Lansing. “Hold still. You’re making things worse. Let me help get that cleaned off.”

He jumped back and waved her away. “Don’t touch me, any of you.” He swung toward Micah and glared with as much ferocity as a green man could attain. “You did that on purpose.” Then he pointed at Jeffery and Beth. “While you watched and did nothing to stop it.” He shook his fist at Micah. “I’ll be moving out as soon as I wash, change, and gather my things, but don’t think I’ll be paying for the past week. This suit cost more than two weeks’ lodging at this miserable edifice.”

Micah stiffened, and his face sobered. “It was an accident, and I apologize for laughing. I assumed once you got over the shock you might see the humor, but I see we’ve offended you. Let me help you around to the watering trough, where you can clean up.”

Lansing jerked his arm away. “I don’t need any help.” He stalked off, paint staining the grass with every step.

Katherine touched her husband’s arm. “What happened, dear? How in the world did Mr. Lansing get covered in the house paint?”

Mrs. Cooper and Aunt Wilma stood with mouths agape as Micah shared the events that led up to the accident. Aunt Wilma’s lips twitched. “Can’t say I’m sorry to see him go.” The humor faded from her face. “But I hope he won’t cause you folks trouble. He was a pompous individual while living here, but no telling what he’ll be now.”

Chapter Fourteen

Beth stared after the paint-bedecked man as he traipsed around the corner of the house toward the watering trough, her aunt’s words ringing in her ears. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I know what it’s like to be laughed at by others. It’s painful and … unforgivable.”

Jeffery crossed his arms over his chest. “Rubbish. I agree it might be painful if the man were injured
or
if Mr. Jacobs tossed the can off the roof on purpose. On the contrary, nothing was hurt but the man’s pride—and his clothing, of course. It’s a shame it happened, but it was an accident. Mr. Jacobs
did
sincerely express his regret, and Lansing tossed the apology off like a bucket of slop.”

Micah rubbed his hands on the rag Katherine offered. “And if his duds cost more than a week’s room and board, we’ll stand the extra. I should have been more careful and not allowed that to happen. I’m to blame if anyone is, not you, Miss Roberts.” He shot Katherine an entreating look.

She placed an arm around Beth and squeezed. “That’s right. I’m sorry Mr. Lansing’s clothing was ruined, but he might have adopted a better attitude and accepted Micah’s apology.” A slight smirk revealed itself. “Besides, it
was
funny. If he’d been on the other side of things instead of under that paint can, he’d have felt the same way.”

Aunt Wilma placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the edge of the roof. “Well, whatever happens, you’ve got a mighty pretty splash of color on your shingles and another on the eaves, Mr. Jacobs.” She grinned and waved a hand. “And I imagine it’s going to stay there as I can’t see you scrubbing it off anytime soon.”

Katherine shuddered. “I certainly hope not. The dormer trim looks finished. I trust you don’t plan on going up there again, Micah. It’s too dangerous.” She beckoned toward the house. “We’d best get inside and see if we can calm Mr. Lansing down before he leaves—if he decides that’s truly what he wants to do.”

Mrs. Cooper followed close on their heels, muttering something about wanting to help.

Beth looked at her aunt. “Do you think we should go in too?”

“Probably not, dear. At least, not until Katherine and Mr. Jacobs have a chance to talk some sense into that man. If that’s possible, which I doubt.” She grimaced. “He’s rather odious, and I hope he does move, although I meant it when I said he might cause trouble for the Jacobses. Do you know what he was after when he came outside, and why he halted under the roof?” She peered from Jeffery to Beth.

Jeffery stepped forward. “I believe he was annoyed with me, Mrs. Roberts, and may have followed me outside.”