Wishing on Buttercups (39 page)

Micah took the tray from her grasp. “And you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy. Doctor’s orders.”

Katherine smiled. “It was not heavy, Micah.” She directed her attention to Frances. “Mama, would you care to pour the tea for whoever wants a cup?”

Frances straightened and smiled. “Certainly.” She waited until her son-in-law set the tray close to hand. “Wilma? Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, thank you.”

Frances eyed her friend. “You have been awfully quiet all afternoon.”

Wilma hunched her shoulder. “I suppose I’m tired.”

Beth shook herself from her reverie. How had she missed noticing her aunt’s pallor? Guilt pricked at her conscience. Because she’d had her mind on her own troubles instead of caring what anyone close to her might be going through. “Aren’t you sleeping, Auntie?”

Wilma dropped her gaze to her lap. “Not too well.”

“Is something amiss more than worry over Jeffery and Mr. Tucker?” Beth wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she suddenly knew the answer. Aunt Wilma
knew
something and had been keeping it from her. The puffy eyes and reluctance to meet her gaze, not to mention her unusual silence, spoke volumes.

Wilma opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Nothing I can discuss, thank you.” The words were so low Beth barely heard.

Beth hurried across the room, kneeling beside her aunt’s chair. “Whatever is the trouble? Is something wrong with Dr. Caleb?”

Wilma waved her hand. “No, no. He’s fine. Taking mail to the post office since they expect the coach to go out soon.”

“Then what?” The air in the room seemed to still, and no one spoke.

The front door banged open. “They’re back! Everybody!” Dr. Caleb’s excited shout rang through the house. He rushed into the open doorway and waved his arms. “Jeffery and Mr. Tucker. They made it through with a wagon, and they’ll be here any moment.” He turned to Katherine. “Mrs. Jacobs, would there be somewhere that an invalid could rest for an hour or two after they arrive?”

Beth had pushed to her feet, her heart pounding almost out of her chest. “Invalid? Who’s hurt? Is Jeffery all right?” She plucked her skirt up and raced for the front door. “I’m going to meet them. How far are they from the house?” Grabbing her heavy cloak from a peg behind the door, she struggled to wrap it around her shoulders.

The doctor placed his hand on her arm and shook his head. “Wait, child. Let them come here. There’s no sense in you trudging through the slop out there. As far as I could tell, Jeffery is fine. He’s driving the wagon.”

Relief shot through Beth, but another thought hammered at her mind. “His father then?”

“I don’t think so. They’ll be here in a matter of minutes. Please trust me and wait here.”

Beth’s hands shook so hard she could barely hang the cloak back on the peg. Jeffery was alive.

Jeffery reined the buggy to a stop and stared at the house. Would Beth welcome him? Eleven days with no word. If only the telegraph line hadn’t gone down in the storm, and if only there hadn’t
been
a storm. None of that mattered now. He’d left without explaining his actions, and his skin crawled at the knowledge of the hurt he might have caused. She’d agreed to give him a chance when he asked permission to court her, then he’d disappeared without an adequate explanation.

He had gone over the details in his mind a thousand times since leaving Baker City, and every time he arrived at the same conclusion. Beth’s happiness and her desire to know her history were most important. But he hated the thought that the long delay might have heaped pain on the woman he loved.

He smiled at the older woman reclining in the backseat of the buggy. “I won’t be long. I need to give Beth some warning before we take you in. Are you sure you’re warm enough?”

Isabelle Mason nodded. “You made a fine bed for me, Mr. Tucker, and there’s enough blankets covering me to warm an entire village. Take your time. I don’t want to scare her.” Her lips quivered, although she attempted a brave smile. “I hope we aren’t making a big mistake coming here unannounced like this.”

Steven Harding tucked a woolen blanket closer around her neck. “Shh. We’ve been over that ground a dozen times already. Jeffery knows Beth well. I’m still finding it a struggle to think of her as anything but Bess, but I’ll get used to it.” He cocked his head. “You go on in now. You, too, Mr. Tucker. We’ll be fine out here until you say it’s time to come in. And if she decides she doesn’t want to see us, we’ll understand and move on.”

Jeffery wrapped the reins around the brake and climbed down from the buggy. He glanced at his father, who still sat on his horse. “You’re coming in, aren’t you?”

Mark Tucker shook his head. “Not yet, son. I’ll wait with these folks for a couple of minutes. I think you need a little time with your girl alone before we all barge in and start answering questions.”

Warmth shot through him. He’d never realized before his father could be so perceptive. “Thank you, although I have no idea if she’s my girl or if she’s even still speaking to me.” He tugged at the top button of his coat. “I guess I’d better go find out.”

His foot hit the last step of the porch when the front door swung open and a blur of deep green burst out. With skirts swirling around her and arms outstretched, Beth flew across the porch and into his arms.

Stunned, Jeffery could only hold her. Muffled sobs rose, and she trembled in his embrace. “Shh, Beth, it’s all right. You’re shivering. We need to get inside where it’s warm.” Keeping her tight against his side, he pushed open the door and drew her into the foyer. He lifted her chin and ran his thumb down her cheek, stroking the tear-wet skin. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Truly, I thought I was doing the right thing. I had no idea I would be gone so long.”

She inhaled a long, shuddering breath and lifted a gaze filled with lingering despair. “I thought you were dead.”

The idea that he’d hurt and worried her nearly paralyzed him. “We were delayed by the storm and stuck in La Grande for a number of days, but we were never in danger.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and pressed his lips where it had lain. “Why would you think that?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened again, Beth met his gaze without flinching. “Someone rode into town and said two men were found frozen along the trail to Baker City. They weren’t identified, but one was younger and the other older. They were found three days after the snow hit, and when you didn’t return …” She took a step back. “Why didn’t you talk to me before you left, Jeffery? I’ve been sick with worry.”

“I’m sorry.” He stroked another curl off her face. “I’ll explain it all soon, I promise. But right now there’s someone in the wagon who needs to come in out of the cold.”

Her hand went to her throat. “Your father. Oh dear, I forgot. Dr. Caleb said someone was ill and needed to lie down, but he didn’t think it was Mr. Tucker.” She turned and reached for the doorknob.

Jeffery stepped around her. “It’s not Father. I need to tell you something first.” He’d rehearsed this so many times, but the words had melted like the rain-chased snow. “I wish I had more time to explain, but I guess I’ll just have to say it. I went to La Grande to investigate Steven Harding’s claim that he and his mother might be your family. The woman in the buggy is your mother, Beth. She’s terrified you won’t want to see her. Will you allow her to explain what happened so many years ago?”

Beth’s legs shook so hard she could barely stand. Her mother was in the wagon outside? And Steven was truly her brother? How could Jeffery possibly know that, and why was he keeping them outside? Her thoughts darted around, barely making sense. She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping to still the tremors. He said he’d gone to investigate the claims in Steven Harding’s letter, but she’d never anticipated the man or his mother would arrive on her doorstep.

Steven had written the letter and tried to find her before Jeffery left, and he’d hinted at the guilt his mother carried. They had made their way here, braving the cold. She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, a shiver coursing through her. “Yes, I want to see her.”

But what if they didn’t like her? Would it change her relationship with Aunt Wilma? And could she believe what they told her?

Reason took over her racing thoughts, and she worked to relax her tense muscles. “I’ll admit I’m frightened. I have no idea what to expect.”

Jeffery placed a gentle finger under her chin and raised her face. “
I
know what to expect, and I can assure you it is nothing to be afraid of. They are good people, Beth, with a story you need to hear.” He stepped to the door, then turned back. “I imagine you’ll want your aunt to listen as well, but you might ask Mrs. Jacobs if you can have the parlor to yourself for the next hour or so.”

Beth’s heart pounded, and she stretched out her hand. “Will you stay as well?”

His gaze grew warmer still. “If you want me to.”

She nodded, then slipped out of the foyer toward the parlor.

A few minutes later, voices sounded in the entry. Aunt Wilma slid closer to Beth on the parlor sofa and captured her hand. “Are you all right?”

Beth swallowed hard. “I think so. Did you know he was doing this?”

Wilma’s gaze didn’t waver. “I did, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. Jeffery wanted to protect you and didn’t want to get your hopes up if it turned out to be nothing.”

Beth nodded. She couldn’t blame her aunt for her silence and should have realized Jeffery wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. All those days wasted in foolish worry and nights without sleep. Why was it so difficult to trust God when hard times came? Somehow she sensed His hand had been directing her for months. The memories that had surfaced, along with the knowledge of His growing presence, should have reassured her, and would have if she’d taken the time to pray and think it through this past week instead of assuming the worst.

Jeffery walked through the open portal behind a frail woman with wide blue eyes, her shoulders encased protectively by her son’s arms.

Mr. Tucker stopped in the doorway and nodded toward the kitchen. “I think I’ll get a cup of hot coffee while you folks talk.”

Beth’s throat closed over the emotion that swelled at his tender expression. “Thank you.” She couldn’t manage another word. She could only grip her aunt’s hand.

Jeffery glanced at them both. “Before we go any further, I think we should introduce Beth’s aunt Wilma.” He tipped his head her direction. “This is Mrs. Wilma Roberts, the woman who took Beth in and raised her, and this is Steven’s mother, Isabelle Mason.”

Aunt Wilma squeezed Beth’s hand and nodded to Steven and his mother. “It’s good to meet you both. I understood there was someone who needed to lie down. Are you sure this is a good time to talk, Mrs. Mason?”

The woman dipped her head. “Please, call me Isabelle. And I cannot rest until this is done.” Her gaze was riveted on Beth.

Steven helped his mother into a chair across from Beth, then took one close by. Jeffery settled into a chair. Silence blanketed the room with an expectant hush, like everyone waited for angels to pronounce a momentous event. Steven touched his mother’s hands, which were gripped in her lap. “Would you like me to start, Ma?”

She drew her shawl closer around her neck with quaking fingers. “I want to tell her. It was my fault, not yours.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Isabelle’s mind was completely blank. All she could do was stare at Bess. It
was
Bess. There was no doubt in her mind. She would recognize that face even if it were mixed with a thousand others. A wave of remorse hit her, and she reeled against her chair. So many lost years. So many missing memories. Isabelle slumped deeper into the chair, praying the words would come.

Their glance met, and the girl paled and stiffened. Did Bess hate her for not being a part of her life? She couldn’t blame her. How many times had she lain awake in bed hating herself for not working harder to find her baby girl? All the years of torment and imagining the worst—but Bess was alive!

Someone moved beside her chair, and she looked up. Jeffery, the thoughtful young man who’d come to La Grande, stood holding a cup on a saucer. He placed it on a table near her elbow, then walked back to his seat. The fragrance of mint enticed her, and she picked up the cup and sipped. No one else moved. Her girl sat beside the woman who had raised her, whose head was bowed over their clutched hands.