Wishing on Buttercups (22 page)

“May I help you, sir?” An attractive young woman with blond hair piled on top of her head gave him a bright smile.

“Uh, yes, thank you.” He pointed at a stack of round-topped chocolate. “What are those?”

“Chocolate with coconut centers. My favorite.” She giggled and picked up a set of tongs. “Would you care to try one?”

Jeffery’s mouth watered, but he shook his head. “No. But I’ll take a dozen, if you please.”

She gave a coy smile. “Buying them for yourself, or someone special?”

Annoyance made his words sharper than he’d planned. “Both. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

After wrapping the candy in brown paper, she tied it with a string and slid it across the counter. “That will be three bits, please.”

He pulled out some coins and laid them on the counter. “Thank you and good day.” As much as he was tempted to unwrap the package and try a piece, he’d sacrifice.

Hurrying down the boardwalk, he dodged pedestrians, anxious to return to the house. Surely Beth wasn’t interested in Wentworth to any degree. More than likely the man was an old friend passing through the area wanting to renew his acquaintance. He could have misconstrued the man’s actions—after all, Wentworth hadn’t offered to walk Beth home and had delegated the pleasant task to him.

The door to a small restaurant opened, and he slid to a halt to keep from bumping into the exiting man, who clearly had his mind on the woman beside him rather than where he was going.

Jeffery started to apologize, then glanced at the woman. “B-Beth?” His heart plummeted to his toes, and he tightened his grip on the package of chocolates.

She drew to a halt and swiveled toward him, her smile slowly fading. “Jeffery. I didn’t know you were in town.”

Wentworth tucked her hand under his elbow. “Come along, my dear. We’ve had too little time together, and I don’t care to share you.” He nodded at Jeffery. “Tucker, isn’t it? Have a good day.” He swung around and drew Beth with him.

Jeffery glared at the couple as they moved away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to toss the chocolates as far as he could. Better yet, he’d give them to the Jacobs children. He lifted his chin and pivoted the opposite direction, his long strides pounding the boardwalk hard enough to drive the spikes deeper into the wood. If only the brisk action would drown out the throbbing of his heart.

Beth started to protest, but the words died on her lips. Amazement, disappointment, and anger had flashed across Jeffery’s face in the brief time they’d stood there. Annoyance swelled inside at the high-handed treatment Brent had dished out, and she yanked him to a halt. “That will be quite enough.”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What will?”

“I will not be whisked away like some kind of prize when a friend speaks to me. That was rude and unkind. I can’t imagine what Jeffery must think.”

“Jeffery, is it?” Jealousy seemed to tinge Brent’s words for an instant before he cleared his throat.

Had she only imagined the jealous tone?

He patted her fingers still slipped through the crook of his arm. “I
am
sorry, Beth. I didn’t intend to be rude, and I had no idea he was a particular friend. I meant it when I said I hated to share the little bit of time we have together. Please forgive me.”

She glanced over her shoulder, hoping it might not be too late to hail Jeffery and convey her regret, but he had disappeared in the press of people lining the street. Frustration assailed her. Somehow she must let Jeffery know the snub wasn’t her idea.

Her irritation at Brent waned but didn’t quite dissolve. “You’re forgiven, but he
is
a friend. I hate hurting anyone.”

“I understand, and I’ll not do something like that again.” He drew her closer. “Let’s walk awhile, shall we? It’s lovely out with no wind or rain at the moment.”

Beth nodded and ambled in time with his step, her thoughts drifting. During their time over tea, Brent had been a consummate gentleman. She couldn’t understand why her aunt disapproved of him when they lived in Topeka.

Guilt still pricked for not letting Aunt Wilma know of his arrival in Baker City, but she needed to decide how she felt about Brent before she brought her aunt into the picture. The old dear would surely try to convince her to quit seeing him, and Beth wasn’t prepared to do that as yet.

If only Aunt Wilma had confided why she disliked Brent, she might better be able to sort through her conflicting emotions. Over the past months she’d gone from hurt and despair to anger and longing. Then recently she’d actually started to forget and move on. Her growing attraction to Jeffery had done that for her, she was sure of it. But after today she doubted their friendship would still be intact.

Brent. What did she really feel about the man walking by her side? Today he’d come close to professing his love again, but she’d silenced him with a sharp shake of her head. It was too soon, and she didn’t want to be pushed into a corner. She’d finally forgiven him and set aside what she’d perceived as his abandonment, but there was no reason to rush.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Brent’s words drew her from her reverie, and his smile pulled her into his world.

“Kind of wandering, I suppose.”

“Anything you’d care to share?” His lazy smile was beguiling.

“Thinking about our time together in Topeka.” She almost bit her tongue after the words left her mouth. She hadn’t planned on opening that door so soon.

“Beth.” They’d reached a quiet section of town, and he paused, drawing both of her gloved hands into his. “Before we go any farther, I …” He closed his eyes briefly, sadness settling over his features.

Concern raced through her. “Go on. What’s troubling you?”

“I’m not sure I should say anything.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Forgive me. Let’s keep walking.” He turned to go.

She gripped his fingers as they started to slide from hers. “Wait. I want to know. Tell me?”

He sucked in a breath and released it in a sigh. “You’re sure? I don’t want to impose or have you think less of me.”

“Very sure. And I certainly won’t think less of you for wanting to share what’s bothering you. Please go on.”

He tucked her hand under his elbow, drawing her forward. Beth allowed him to seat her on a low-backed bench tucked under the eaves of the covered boardwalk. An occasional wagon rumbled past, and footsteps thudded farther up the walkway, but Beth kept her attention on Brent. He appeared troubled, almost fearful. She couldn’t imagine what could turn him from talking about their relationship when she’d inadvertently given him the opening.

He swiveled to face her but didn’t touch her again. “I’m not sure how to say this.”

“It’s all right. I’ll listen to whatever it is without judging.”

“Thank you. You remember me explaining about my mother?”

Pain shot through Beth at the reminder. “Yes. You mentioned she passed away.”

He averted his face. “She left a lot of debts, and the creditors are coming after me. I don’t know what to do.” He met her eyes. “I want to have a future together, Beth, but I can’t drag you into a life of worry or poverty. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Her stomach clenched at the anxiety coloring his voice. All this time she had been judging him, feeling hurt and betrayed, thinking he’d abandoned her, and Brent was suffering too. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could help.” Sudden disquiet swept over her. Aunt Wilma hadn’t trusted him and hinted at money problems. Had she known about the debt he owed and feared a life of poverty for Beth if they married? Or had he come to Wilma and asked for help and she had turned him away? Neither alternative seemed quite fair nor like her generous, free-handed aunt.

He reached for her hand. “Thank you, but there’s nothing you can do. I simply wanted you to know where things stand.”

“I have a little money,” she admitted. “I don’t know if it would be enough, but …”

Brent hesitated, then gently squeezed her fingers. “I don’t think I could accept your money. I’ll have to figure this out on my own.”

“But Brent …”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we, dear? Move on to something more pleasant? Or maybe we should finish that walk we started. I don’t want to waste another minute in your company thinking about distressful subjects such as debt and bills.” He mustered a bright smile. “I’m sure it will work out. I should not have burdened you with my problems.”

Beth allowed him to draw her to her feet, but all the while her thoughts swirled. Brent was in trouble, and she had misjudged him. Aunt Wilma wouldn’t lend a hand, even though Beth was certain she had the wherewithal to do so. Even if Beth no longer loved him, somehow she must find a way to help.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Isabelle’s hands shook as she stirred the pot of stew simmering on the stove. Steven had only been home for five days, and his boss was already talking about sending him back to Baker City. Mines were booming there, and the bank wanted to make as many loans as possible before the winter snow set in.

Steven stepped up beside her and gently took the ladle from her hand. “Go sit down, Ma. I can care for this as well as you. You shouldn’t have tried to fix a big meal. Stew was plenty without the biscuits and pie.”

She perched on the hard chair he’d pulled close. “I’m fine. A little tired is all.” Isabelle forced a smile. “How many more trips do you think Mr. Smothers will require you to take? Surely once you return from this next one, it will be the last until spring.”

He twisted his mouth to the side. “I doubt it will be the last, but I know it won’t continue into the spring.” Steven’s gaze darted away from hers and focused on the wall behind her.

Fear settled in. “What is it, Son? What
aren’t
you telling me?”

“It’s nothing. Or, at least, I don’t think it will amount to anything to worry about.”

“Steven, I do not have the energy to play guessing games. Out with it.”

He dropped the ladle against the inside of the pot and sank into a nearby chair. “All right. Knowing you, you’ll worry more if I don’t tell you.”

“Well then?”

“The bank is opening a new branch in Baker City in less than two months.”

Isabelle brightened. “Why, that’s good news, not bad. If they have a branch there, they won’t have to keep sending you. So this might be your last trip. I’m glad. Why were you afraid to tell me that?” Foreboding smote her. “They aren’t going to let you go because they have a man doing the same job over there, are they? That wouldn’t be fair.”

“No, my job is safe. In fact, it looks like I’ll be getting a promotion.” His eyes clouded, and he averted his gaze again.

The joy that had sprung up quickly withered. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I would be if they hadn’t put a condition on it.” He pivoted toward her. “They won’t have a position for me at this bank once they open the new branch office, and they want me to transfer to Baker City. It means we have to move. I can take this one last trip and then move to Baker City … or find another job. They’ll let me have a week or so off so we can find a place to live.”

Isabelle stared at her son, unable to take in what he’d said. She placed her hand against her cheek. “You want me to leave my home? My friends? I’ve lived here for years.” She tightened her fingers into a fist. “That’s too much to ask. Everyone knows where I live. What if Bess comes asking?” Her voice rose to a high pitch, and her entire body shook. “What if she’s trying to find me? She wouldn’t know where to look.”

Steven jumped from his chair and put his arm around her shoulders. “Calm down. Take deep breaths. We’ll work it out. Don’t worry. I’ll quit my job and find something else.” He almost lifted her from the chair. “You need to lie down and rest. Supper can wait.”

She allowed him to half carry her to the bed and didn’t protest as he placed her against the pillow. Weariness swamped her until she felt like a boat adrift, sinking beneath storm-tossed waves. “I can’t let you give up your job, Steven. That’s not fair to you either.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she didn’t have the energy to brush it aside. “Not fair to either of us.” She averted her eyes, saddened at her weakness and the agony reflected on his face. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I haven’t been a good mother to you. All these years grieving for what might have been and making you stay put, caring for a sick old woman.”

“You haven’t made me do anything, Ma. It’s an honor to care for you, and we’ll find a way to make this work. Rest now and try to put everything else out of your mind.”

Isabelle turned onto her side and pulled the blanket up under her chin. If only she could follow his advice and wipe her memory clean.
Rest.
She barely knew what the word meant anymore. It had been seventeen long years since she’d experienced a day of true peace, and somehow she didn’t think it would happen anytime soon.