“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” Angel didn’t have any answers about boys except what Travis had told her, and she had never cared before, but now she had a flaming interest in finding out about these brothers and how she could get them to like her.
And she knew just who she would ask. Dr. Logan would give her answers her sister wouldn’t.
Chapter 21
Angel squished in between Heaven and Travis. Heaven tried to conceal her disappointment, but the upturned corners on Travis’s face led her to believe she’d failed miserably.
Angel tugged on Travis’s coat sleeve. “What kind of baby did you get?”
“A human one.”
“I mean, boy or girl?”
“A tiny perfect little rosebud of a girl. Looks like her mother.”
Travis looked at Heaven and winked. Her stomach flipped. Was he thinking of having babies with her? She ran down that path with him, picturing not one but three little ones.
“Did they name her yet?” Heaven tried to focus on the scar on Travis’s cheek, because if she looked him in the eye, she was afraid he would read her thoughts and see those three little ones.
“No, not yet. When I go back next week, I’ll find out.”
The wagon didn’t sway as much as it did on the trip into town. Heaven noticed a roll of canvas in the back and some—could it be; had he bought flour and sugar? Her spirits lifted. “What’s the stuff in the back for?”
“Thought we’d close up that hole in the cabin so you won’t be so cold tonight. I was hoping if I bought some flour and sugar you might be convinced to make me a cake. It’s been a long time, and I’m hankerin’ for something sweet.”
“I’ll make it for you. I can cook now.” Angel nudged him with an elbow.
Travis coughed. Panic widened his eyes. “I’m sure you can, Little Miss, but I was thinkin’ it was time for your sister to start doing some of the kitchen work again. Her ankle is much better.”
“Maybe I can help?” Eagerness trickled through her words.
“You can lick the spoon. I won’t fight you for it—this time.” Travis ruffled Angel’s hair. “Next time though, look out. I’ll be first in line for that spoon licking.”
Next time? Heaven added that to her tangled thoughts. She draped an arm around her sister. “I’d appreciate your help. We’ll make it tomorrow. We’ll have a treat after we clean up from the storm. Thank you, Travis. We’d both be happy to make your cake for you.”
“Heaven, do you know how to mix a cake?” Angel whispered.
“I have Ma’s recipe box. There has to be a recipe in there that’s good. I’m sure it will turn out fine.” Just like going to the church had turned out better than she’d expected. Angel had been accepted by a group of girls her age and managed to convince Heaven that her sister had to be in the play. To her surprise, she’d agreed.
And she’d learned some things about her uncle.
“Do you think Mr. Jackson came back home?” Angel twisted her hands together, let them go, and then did it again.
“If he’s as smart as you say he is, then I think he’ll be waiting.” Travis pulled up on the reins. “No need to run home, Charlie. We’ll get there soon.”
“He always does that—tries to run home. It ain’t even time for him to eat,” Angel said. “I made a lot of new friends today. They didn’t even care that I couldn’t see them, Dr. Logan.”
“A true friend won’t care if you see the same way they do. There’s more to a person than sight.”
Heaven glanced up and got hooked by Travis’s eyes. So full of compassion for her sister. And she wanted him to kiss her again. And the way he was looking back made her think he wanted the same. She had never felt this way about Jake. Maybe this was what love was like. It stole your heart when you weren’t willing to let it go, and gave it away.
The sun poked through the clouds but didn’t give up any of its warmth. Heaven shivered. The night would be cold even with the exposed places covered. She and Angel would have to sleep on the floor in front of the fire.
Charlie turned down the cedar-lined drive.
Angel scooted to the edge of the bench seat. “Can you see Mr. Jackson yet?”
“We can tell in just a minute. Be patient.” The right side of the wagon dipped into a gulley, jarring Heaven. She grabbed the side of the wagon to steady herself.
“I see him. On top of the wood pile.” Travis laughed. “Looks like he didn’t wait on us for dinner. He’s chewing on something. Looks like paper.”
Heaven abruptly lifted her head. A piece of paper fluttered from Mr. Jackson’s mouth to the middle of the logs. “It’s a book.
Hurry Travis, hurry. That might be our family Bible.” Travis clicked his tongue.
Charlie needed little urging, and he lunged ahead.
Heaven chewed her lip. Please don’t let it be the Bible unless it’s the only way we’re going to find it. And if it is the Bible, please don’t let him be eating the page with our family history.
Travis stopped the horse close to the wood pile and jumped from the wagon. “I’ll get it.”
“I’m coming, too.” Angel climbed to the ground and stood. “Which way do I go, Heaven?”
“Got it.” Travis called. “It’s not the Bible.” He walked over to the wagon. “I’m sorry Angel. I didn’t mean to leave you here. I wanted to rescue the book before any more damage was done to it.”
Heaven scooted across the bench and waited for Travis to help her down. “What is it?”
Travis smoothed out the paper and held it up, “I’m not sure.”
Heaven recognized the illustration on the back side. Her heartbeat picked up.
He flipped over the paper and chuckled. “Seems to be from a book or magazine—A Guide to Raising Proper Ladies.“
Mortification numbed Heaven. She wanted to reach out and grab it from him, but Angel stood between them.
“‘Important rules to always remember. A proper lady never speaks with—’” he read.
“‘Her mouth full of food, lest she resemble a pig at the table.’” Angel finished the rule. “That’s Ma’s book. Heaven’s been teaching me from it. I know lots of rules, but they’re hard to follow. There’s one about not asking to go to the outhouse.”
“Angel Claire Wharton!” Heaven wished the tornado had swallowed her sister instead of her Bible. She pushed Angel aside and tore the book, or what was left of it, out of Travis’s hand. “Give it to me.”
He held on to it for a second.
She tugged again.
He released it. “Heaven, I’m sorry.”
She limped off to pick up the other pages that were scattered across the yard, not wanting to hear an apology from him.
“Heaven, my mother has the same book,” Travis yelled. “She’s used it to teach my sisters. Why, I bet I could quote a few of those rules myself.”
She wouldn’t answer him. How dare he laugh. Ma had only tried to make her a desirable bride for Jake. And she would have been a proper wife for him, too, knowing all that she did, unlike what you needed to know to be a farmer’s wife. She knew what fork to use but not how to clean a chicken. Ma’s little book would have worked for her if Jake hadn’t died. Jake was somebody. The only son, destined to take over his father’s business. She’d have been hosting afternoon teas and soirées instead of feeding farm animals and mucking stalls.
“I’m going to put Charlie back in the barn and unload the wagon since you’re not ready to speak to me. Just don’t forget you promised to make me a cake.”
“I’m going with him,” Angel yelled.
Traitor. Even Angel didn’t understand the injustice of Heaven’s life. She continued to ignore the two of them, even though they were laughing and seemed to be having a good time. Once she heard the wagon roll inside the barn, she stopped and sat on a log. She pulled her knees under her chin and encircled her legs with her arms as she’d done when she was small. A tear trickled down her face, and she let it slide to h
er skirt. She didn’t care, not anymore. God had abandoned her and her sister, left her to some man who thought her previous life was amusing. How brazen of him to think that.
She scooted off the log, landing on her bad leg first. Her ankle screamed, but she didn’t. There was no need to bring that man out of the barn to help or lecture her. She was not in the mood to be appeased.
Annabelle’s patience had been stretched slingshot tight, and she was about to fire. “I do hope this time you got the right directions, Jake Miles.” She held out her arm and let him help her into the rented coal-box buggy.
“Everything has turned out fine. Mother was able to freshen up at the hotel, and we unloaded the luggage she brought.”
He didn’t mention they’d toured the countryside going east instead of west, which is why his mother needed time to freshen up. “Jake, I’m not returning to Nashville.”
“You have to go back. I’m not going, and Mother needs a chaperone to get home.” Jake scowled at her.
“Here I am,” Mrs. Miles called from the steps. “It takes me a little longer than you young people to navigate those steep stairs.”
Jake rushed forward to take his mother’s arm. “That’s fine. Annabelle and I were conversing about travel arrangements.”
“I don’t want to talk about traveling anywhere for a while. I need to rest before I take that journey back home.” The buggy sagged as Mrs. Miles stepped into it. She slid across the leather bench next to Annabelle.
Jake climbed in after her and took the driver’s seat without a word. His sullen slouch let Annabelle know this discussion hadn’t ended.
She wouldn’t let him convince her to return. Not when she’d made it this far. And besides, she’d left her father that good-bye note. If she returned now, she’d never be able to leave. Her father would make sure she never got the chance. All of her freedom would disappear faster than Cook’s special tea cakes on a Sunday afternoon.
“It’s quite pretty out here, isn’t it?” Mrs. Miles peered out the buggy.
Annabelle watched the cedars—some standing tall and others bent in half—and wondered what Jake’s mother found so pretty. The cedars weren’t even a pretty green this time of year. More of a green mixed with mud.
“It’s nice, Mother, but it’s not Nashville. I’m sure you would be fighting boredom without your ladies’ societies.”
“You would be surprised, Jake. Since we lost you”—she leaned forward and grasped her son’s shoulder as if to remind herself he was still there—”or thought you were … gone, your father and I didn’t see a need to keep socializing with people. We told you that at dinner, remember?”
“You mentioned it.”
“It didn’t seem right to try and advance ourselves in the social circle without a son to carry on the business or the family name.” She squeezed her son’s shoulder and let go.
Annabelle ached at the motherliness of that touch. Her eyes burned with tears for what she didn’t have.
“There, that’s the broken wheel up ahead. The one the clerk at the store mentioned.” Jake pointed.
“And the split rail fence!” Annabelle wanted to stand up and shout, but instead, she tightly folded her hands and settled them on her lap. “Hurry, Jake. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my friend.”
“Or my son’s fiancée.” Mrs. Miles leaned back and smiled. “I cannot wait until you have children, Jake. Imagine! I had lost hope, and now it seems God has blessed me with a future.”
Annabelle cringed. Jake’s mother was going to be powerfully disappointed when her son told his fiancée he no longer wanted to marry her.
Travis hopped back onto the wagon, disengaged the brake, flipped the reins, and directed Charlie back into the barn.
Angel was waiting for him. “Now Mrs. Jackson is missing.”
Travis jumped off the wagon and tied Charlie to a post. “Wonder how she got out.” He strode over to the goat’s empty pen. The hay was pushed about in small piles, some of them flatter than others, as if the top layers were tastier to the pregnant goat. “Looks like she managed to work open the latch, or maybe the wind jiggled it loose.”
“I have to unhitch Charlie, and I’d like to get some of this sweat off of him before I head out and look for her.”
“I hope she’s okay. Mr. Jackson would be sad if she isn’t.” Angel rubbed Pride and Joy’s nose.
“She’s probably out looking for a snack. There’s a lot of tempting goat treats out in the woods.” Like Heaven’s Bible and an apron or two, he suspected. “I don’t think she’ll wander far. She’ll tire out quickly.”
“Do you think she’ll have the kid before we find her?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know when it’s due. It will come when it’s time. Could you get me the brush and currycomb, Little Miss?” Travis tied Charlie to the barn post.
Angel showed a tooth-filled smile. “I sure will, Dr. Logan.”
“I bet you wish you didn’t laugh at my sister.” Angel headed for the corner where the tack was stored.
“She doesn’t scare me.” Her eagerness to please and do something on her own warmed his heart. She had that same no-nonsense face her sister seemed to wear often. He wondered if their children would acquire that look from Heaven. Humph. Children. First, he had to get the woman in front of a preacher.
“Why not? She makes me want to hide in the chicken coop sometimes.”
“Is that why you came in here with me?” The little orange cat scampered across the floor and rubbed her body against Travis’s leg. He bent down, picked her up, and cradled her to his chest. Her purr rumbled bigger than her body.
“Yes. Sometimes she needs to work things out all by herself without anyone to boss while she does it.” Angel spun around and headed for the tools he’d asked for.
“Why don’t you just call me Travis?”
“Wouldn’t be proper. Heaven calls you Travis though, so maybe she won’t be mad if I do, too.” Her answer fluttered back to him as she scooted things around on the shelf.
Of course not. Wasn’t that the reason he was in here hiding from Heaven? The usage of proper manners and behavior? He should have paid more attention to what his mother was teaching his sisters.
“Here.” Angel thrust the tools out in front of her.
He grabbed them with one hand. “Little Miss, I’ve got something for you.” Travis handed her the kitten.
“Oooh.”
“She needs a name, since she’s decided to sleep on my chest at night.”
“She’s so soft.” She put the kitty next to her nose. “Hi there.”
The kitten responded with a soft meow and more purring.
“What color is she?” She stroked the kitten’s back.
“Reddish orange, with a few stripes of cream licking her face. More like a fresh-picked persimmon now that I look at her. Do you remember what they look like?” Travis whipped the currycomb and brush in an easy rhythm across Charlie’s withers.
“Um-hum, they taste good in cookies. I think I’ll call her Miss Simmons, because she’s too little to get a husband. Not like my sister.”
Travis’s hand stilled. “Do you want your sister to get married, Angel?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to her marrying you. You’re nice. Jake was always mean to me. I was sorry he got killed, and that made Heaven cry a lot, but I wasn’t sad that they weren’t getting married.”
Travis decided he didn’t much care for Jake—even if the man was dead, God rest his soul. Angel was too precious not to show kindness to.
“Do you hear that? I hear a buggy coming down the drive.”
“We’d better get out there, or Heaven will be going for the shotgun.”
“If she can find it in all that mess.” The kitten in Angel’s hand wiggled, its thin, sharp claws connected to her sleeve. “Time for you to get down and explore, Miss Simmons. Come on, Travis, we’d better hurry just in case.” She took three confident steps and then stopped. “Don’t tell Heaven I
called you by your given name, please.”
“I won’t. We’ll keep that between ourselves.” He smacked the horse on the rump, and into the stall he went. “I’ll toss him a bit of hay and be right there. And don’t worry, she can’t shoot anyone, because I took the gun.”
Chapter 22
Heaven heard wheels rumbling down the road. Where was that rifle? Did she have time to run inside for it? She gave a frantic look at the barn. Where was Travis? Why didn’t he rush out here and make sure the company a-comin’ wasn’t coming to harm them?
Through the cedar trees, she caught flashes of the black buggy. Then it came into view. Intrigued, she stopped in her tracks. She’d seen this one for rent at the livery. Who would have rented a buggy to come see her? Not someone who wanted to trade peaches for green beans.
The driver wore his hat low over his eyes, but that wasn’t unusual for a hired driver. She waited for him to stop the horses. Then he climbed down and helped a familiar-looking woman step down.
Could it be? Was it? The red hair, the way the woman stood. Unfamiliar feelings sprung up, and then she recognized them as joy. The woman turned, and Heaven felt her anger at Travis fly away, and the corners of her mouth lifted as if strung by string. She didn’t care about manners or being a proper lady. This was her friend. Her best friend.
“Annabelle!” She tried to hurry, but her ankle kept her at a slow walk. “Is it really you?”
“It is!” Annabelle’s feet made quick time across the trampled grass drive and gathered her friend into a hug. “Heaven! What happened to you? You’re limping.”
“I fell in a hole. I’m much better.”
“Annabelle!” Angel hollered from the barn door. “Is that Annabelle? Did you bring any jam?”
Heaven felt her face flush. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to teach her better manners. She just doesn’t want to learn.”
“Neither did we, if I remember correctly.” Annabelle’s laugh fit her name with its gentle, rolling peals.
“We don’t need to inform her of that though, do we?” Heaven couldn’t stop looking at her friend. God had provided her with the best gifts today, even if He didn’t stop the destruction of her home. “Annabelle, did you get caught in the tornado?”
Bride's Dilemma in Friendship, Tennessee Page 17