by Linda Ford
Eve smiled. “That sounds interesting.”
Cole groaned again.
“Come now,” Ma said. “Find the right crate. Alice and I mean to enjoy the day by reminiscing.”
Cole considered riding far from the yard. He needed to check his cows. Perhaps follow a few more trails looking for the robbers. But he couldn’t leave three helpless ladies without protection. With a long-suffering sigh, he pried the lid off the first crate. He stepped aside to let Aunt Alice and his mother dig into the contents.
Eve sidled up to him. “Were you the hero of your stories?”
“More like the victim.”
She chuckled. “It gets more and more interesting.”
“You wouldn’t think so if the stories were about you.”
She turned to grin at him. “I could tell you stories about me as a child. In fact, I believe I have.” Their gazes caught and held. “Remember when I told you about our first Christmas as Kinsley girls?”
“The year you all got a new dress and a doll?”
Something flickered through her gaze—surprise, if he wasn’t mistaken. Did she think he’d forgotten? He’d tried to, but every detail of their time together remained alive…sometimes so vivid it might have happened a day ago.
“That’s right. Except for Josh, of course. I don’t remember what he got. But there were four girls each with a doll that was perfect for them. I don’t know how Ma managed but she did. Adele’s doll had a china head and a satin gown. Of course, she was a lot older, or seemed so at the time. I was six that year and Adele twelve. She got the only store-bought doll. Tilly got a baby doll with baby clothes that Ma made out of soft material. My, how Tilly liked to hug that doll. Ma made a special doll for Flora—out of gray muslin with jointed arms and legs. She even gave it red hair. Flora immediately had her doll jumping and cartwheeling.” Eve chuckled at the memory.
“What about your doll?” Aunt Alice asked. Both ladies were as spellbound by Eve’s story as Cole. There was something about the joy in her face and voice that drew him into her memory, made him wish he had been a part of it.
“My doll was the most perfect one of them all. It was a simple rag doll with floppy arms and legs, big eyes, and an endless smile. All I had to do was look at her to feel happy. I carried her everywhere for a long time, her arms and legs hanging over my arm. How I loved my little Annalisa baby.” She looked around, noticing that everyone watched her. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“What about Victoria? And Josie?” Cole asked.
“They didn’t join our family until a few years later.”
Aunt Alice sighed and pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m all choked up. To think of how much you loved that doll. Isn’t it wonderful, Nancy?”
Cole’s mother nodded. “Didn’t we have floppy rag dolls?”
Aunt Alice dashed away a tear. “I can’t believe you remember that. Did you know I made them? One for you and one for me.”
“I didn’t know that.” Ma reached for Alice, and they squeezed hands. “Thank you. And thank you, Eve, for sharing that special memory.” She pushed away from the crate. “I don’t believe the notebooks are in this one. Cole, open the next one.”
“I’ll be right back.” He had to make sure a gang of robbers didn’t surprise them.
Eve followed him to the veranda. “I’ll go that way.” She pointed to the right. “Why don’t you go that way?” She indicated her left.
“Sounds good.” He set out, scanning the trees and hills.
They passed each other on the far side of the house. He waved and smiled. She did the same. He continued on his way, still smiling. Somehow having her here, taking care of Ma and Aunt Alice, having an extra pair of eyes to watch things, made life seem more pleasant despite the dangers that lurked out there.
They met back at the door.
“I didn’t see anything to give me concern,” she said.
“I didn’t either.”
“We’re waiting,” Aunt Alice called.
“Has she always been so bossy?” Eve whispered.
“Always.” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “You have no idea of the hardships I’ve had to endure at her hands. Ma’s too. They can be real taskmasters.”
“You poor dear. I don’t know how you survived.” Eve gave him a little push away from the door and went ahead of him.
Laughing, he followed her and opened the next crate as ordered by two very overbearing women. “You can poke through the contents without my help.” He withdrew to the kitchen where he could see the approach to the house on three sides.
Eve stayed in the room, standing by the window that gave her a view of the fourth side of the yard.
The ladies called him again, instructing him to open another crate. In a little while they called him to open another and continued their search while Eve made dinner and Cole looked out the windows.
“Dinner is ready,” Eve called.
“In a minute. We’ve seen almost everything in this crate,” Aunt Alice said.
The pair gave a crow of delight, and Cole groaned. “I’m warning you,” he said to Eve. “The rest of the day has been ruined for both of us.”
Her eyes twinkled. “That remains to be seen.”
What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he planned something to occupy Eve away from the house? An excursion to the barn. A trip around the corrals. Time admiring the garden.
Anything but having her hear those stories.
Could he possibly hope Ma wouldn’t want to read them aloud?
That they weren’t as silly and revealing as he remembered?
What would Eve think when she saw what he’d been like as a boy? It might be enough to make her glad she hadn’t married him.
Chapter 10
Laughter bubbled near the surface as Eve witnessed Cole’s reaction. What could these stories contain that he acted so worried about them? She could hardly wait to discover.
Alice and Nancy came to the table, half a dozen notebooks on Nancy’s lap. She’d already opened the top one, and chuckled. “Eve, you are going to enjoy these so much.”
“Ma, can we eat first? I’m starving.”
“You ate enough the last two days to keep you for a week.” Nancy gave her son a look so full of unconcern that Eve laughed.
“Aunt Alice, Eve…won’t someone take pity on a starving man?” His eyes widened with pleading.
“Very well,” Aunt Alice said. “The sooner we feed him, the sooner we can enjoy those stories of yours.” She sat down, folded her hands, and bowed her head.
Eve couldn’t stop smiling as she, too, closed her eyes to wait for Cole to say the grace.
He sighed, cleared his throat, and said, “Dear heavenly Father, we thank Thee for Your many gifts. Especially food. Bless it to our body’s use. Keep us safe and help us remember Your admonition to be kind to each other. Amen.”
Eve’s amusement deepened at the way Cole sent a warning to the ladies.
His ma waggled a finger. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you meant by the last bit of your prayer.”
Eve passed the biscuits and the thick cream of vegetable soup she had prepared. “It’s fun listening to you tease each other. It’s almost like—” She stopped herself before she finished.
Three faces looked at her, eating suspended, eyes curious.
“Never mind,” she said, her attention wholly on buttering a biscuit.
“Oh no, you aren’t leaving us hanging on an unfinished sentence,” Aunt Alice said.
Nancy nodded vigorously. “Indeed. Once you have our interest, you must say what you started to say.”
Eve set her biscuit down, brushed the crumbs off her hands, and picked up her spoon, fully prepared to ignore their pleading.
“Seems fair to me.” Cole’s droll tone jerked her attention to him.
“Fair? How?”
“If I have to endure listening to those stories, the least you should have to do is finish wh
at you were about to say.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She laughed. “It wasn’t anything important.”
“Then I suppose you could be kind enough to relieve our curiosity.”
“Oh, very well.” She tried to sound resigned but guessed the laughter that lay just below the surface made it impossible. “I started to say it was almost like being at home with everyone around the table, laughing and teasing.” She turned her attention to the bowl of soup as if she hadn’t revealed a great insight. This room was as full of warmth and love as the Kinsley kitchen.
“Why, isn’t that a nice thing for her to say?” Aunt Alice asked Nancy.
“Very sweet.”
Eve kept her gaze fixed on the soup, although she ached to know how Cole interpreted her words. She promised herself she wouldn’t look. The ladies chattered about the things they’d uncovered in the crates.
Cole took another biscuit and buttered it.
Eve allowed herself to steal a glance at him.
His eyes were on her. When their gazes connected, he gave a slow, heart-stopping smile.
She caught her breath as familiar, hopefully-forgotten feelings rushed to the surface. She couldn’t break free of his look, couldn’t think past the sense that she was right back where she’d been two years ago, madly in love with this gentle, larger-than-life man. Her heart pounded in the hollow of her throat. Her head seemed strangely cleansed of everything but this moment and how it melded so effortlessly and perfectly with the past.
“Do you see that?” Aunt Alice whispered.
“Hush,” Nancy said. “I’m enjoying it.”
“They don’t even remember we’re here.”
Cole’s gaze slowly left Eve’s. She clung to his look as long as she could, feeling like they were connected by something as sweet as honey, as strong as steel. And then the moment ended, snapped like a broken twig.
“I haven’t forgotten you’re right here,” he said.
Eve might have echoed the thought, but her throat refused to work.
“Oh phooey, I knew I shouldn’t have spoken,” Alice said. “Now they’re going to pretend it was nothing.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Cole said with utmost calm.
Eve felt the study of the two ladies. She managed to eat the last of her soup without choking, then rushed to the worktable to get the butterscotch pudding she had made.
“Thank you,” Nancy said when Eve handed her a bowl of it. “Cole really enjoyed this last time.” She widened her eyes and looked as innocent as a cat with a tummy full of stolen cream.
“It’s so easy to make.” Eve wondered if her excuse sounded as feeble to the others as it did to her. Remembering his appreciation had prompted her to make the dessert again.
“It’s good too,” he said. “Is there any coffee left?”
She filled his cup.
Aunt Alice began to gather up the dishes.
“What’s your rush?” Cole asked. “It’s Sunday. Shouldn’t you be resting, taking it easy?”
“Pshaw. We can rest in the grave. Isn’t that right, Sister?”
“He’s only trying to divert us from my stories. Well, Cole, it isn’t going to work.”
He lifted his hands in a gesture of resignation. “I was only thinking of you. Don’t you usually nap after dinner?”
“Yes, we do. But first things first.” She rolled her chair to the worktable and gave Eve a demanding look.
She grinned and joined her, filling the basin with hot water. She washed dishes and handed them to Ma to dry.
“I have to check on things.” Cole strode from the house and made a circuit around the yard.
Eve could watch him from where she worked…until he rounded the corner.
Aunt Alice went from window to window providing a report on his journey. “If that young whippersnapper thinks he can stay away and not hear these stories, why, he is simply wrong.”
Eve wondered if that was exactly what he had in mind. “What will you do if he stays outside?”
“I’ll drag him back.”
Eve laughed. “I can hardly wait to see that.”
Nancy dried the last dish. “He’ll be back.”
“How can you be so certain?” Eve asked.
Nancy and Aunt Alice looked at each other as if sharing some hidden source of knowledge.
“I just am,” his ma said. “Maybe because I’m his mother.”
Eve had put away the basin and hung the rag to dry when she heard Cole’s booted feet on the veranda.
“What did I tell you?” his mother murmured.
They all watched the doorway for his appearance. He didn’t come through.
“He’s only prepared to come partway,” Nancy whispered. “That’s fine. We’ll join him out there.” She wheeled for the door, Aunt Alice on her heels.
The latter looked over her shoulders. “Are you coming?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Eve trotted outside.
Cole sat with his back to one of the veranda posts. His mother parked behind him, and his aunt sat beside him. He glanced back and saw her. “I see you’ve come for the party.”
“I’m prepared to enjoy myself.” She settled herself facing Cole and grinned at him.
He shook his head in what she took as despair…mock despair, because she knew he held his mother and aunt in high regard. “Be prepared to feel a whole lot of pity for me.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Nancy said. “I have to tell you a little bit about these stories. I started to write them when he was five, coming six, and had terrible nightmares. There was a time he was afraid of everything.”
Cole shook his head.
“There’s no point in denying it,” his mother said. “You were afraid of the dark. Thought someone hid in the shadows ready to hurt you.”
Knowing that there were people perhaps nearby who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone, Eve glanced to the house and saw that Cole had opened the front door, so they had a view of the lane and anyone approaching from that direction.
“The first story I wrote was about a little boy who heard a noise in the dark and was afraid. He hid under the covers, but the thing came closer and touched his covers. A paw poked under the blanket, and he discovered the scary noise was a tiny kitten looking for a home.” She showed Eve the notebook. The simple words were accompanied with a sketch of a little boy holding a kitten, both looking happy.
“That’s sweet. You did a good job,” Eve said. “What else did you do?”
Nancy pulled the book back and read more stories, each accompanied with simple drawings. One about a fierce bear who frightened everyone, but he was really looking for someone to take the spear grass from his paw. She had three notebooks full of stories and sketches.
She read the story of a little boy who had to go to the cellar and get some potatoes, but he was afraid. Finally, he made himself go down. “He faced his fears.” Nancy’s voice caught.
Eve’s gaze shifted from Nancy to Cole. The stories had given her a glimpse into a young boy with the usual fears, and a mother who found a unique way to help him deal with them.
The wheelchair squeaked as the ladies returned inside.
“You faced your fears,” Eve said.
“Like Ma said, I was five or six.”
“About the age I was when I was orphaned.” She wasn’t sure why she thought he should know that fact.
He nodded.
“Are you still afraid of things?” she asked.
“Not so much.”
“What about shadows that seem filled with danger? Like there?” She pointed to a spot among the trees.
He jerked to one side to follow the direction she pointed. He studied the spot a moment, then, convinced there was no danger, settled back again.
“Or wild bears?”
“Sometimes fears are our protection.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Only that some thing
s need to be faced with caution. Pa says I am a careful person. I don’t rush into things. I consider decisions from every aspect.”
Their gazes went on and on, each searching the other. She couldn’t say what he saw. Wasn’t sure if what she saw was only her own desires. But she felt drawn deep into his thoughts, feeling as if he truly understood what she’d said, and accepted it as a good thing.
She gave a soft chuckle. “Pa says he’s glad I’m that way. Says he couldn’t survive two Floras. She jumps into things without looking or considering the consequences. In fact, that’s how she and Kade met.” She told him how Flora had gone riding far from town, got caught in a snowstorm, and ended up having to shelter at Kade’s place for two days.
“Of course Pa said they must marry.”
“And they did? I can’t imagine Flora liking that.”
“Kade was wise enough to spend a few days making her fall in love with him, though I believe she was more than half in love with him after the time they spent together.”
“Eve, honey, would you help us to bed for our naps?”
She bolted to her feet at Nancy’s call. How long had they been waiting for her to assist them? How long had they been listening to the conversation with Cole?
She didn’t need anyone to tell her the answer.
Cole walked the perimeter of the yard, alert to any sign of danger. Eve was cautious about her decisions. Flora was rash. He would not be comfortable with rash, and yet he’d not given Eve a chance to be thoughtful.
He leaned on the corral fence to think. He’d been younger, but that didn’t excuse how he’d treated Eve.
“Do you see something to concern you?” Eve spoke at his elbow.
She’d mistaken his lingering at the fence as indicating danger.
“Just thinking.” He faced her, leaning back against the rails. “I misjudged you, and I apologize.”
She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Two years ago, when I asked you to marry me and accompany me, I didn’t give you a chance to think about your decision. It’s like you said, I was expecting rejection. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
She nodded but slipped by him and went as far as the corner of the fence, where she stopped to gaze into the trees. Did she see something?