Uncharted Promises

by Keely Brooke Keith

  “It looks as though you figured it out.” Isaac pulled out his pocket knife. “I can fix your loose glasses.”

  A flash of bewilderment crinkled Philip’s brow before he touched the frame of his spectacles. “Fix them?”

  “Yeah, tighten them so they’ll stop slipping on you.”

  “Oh.” Philip removed them and held them out. “I didn’t realize they were loose.”

  Isaac found the miniscule silver screws in the bend of the frame and tightened them with the tip of his knife. “Your first pair?”

  Philip squinted as he watched him work. “Never needed them until I hit thirty-five.”

  “Same thing happened to my dad.” He checked the hinges then handed them back. “See if that’s better.”

  Philip put them on and tucked the ends over his ears. He leaned his head down. “They’re staying put for once. Excellent!” He gave Isaac a hearty thump on the back. “Thank you.”

  The house’s only entrance opened and Leonard stepped inside, his nose and cheeks splotched with red. “What’s all this?” he asked as he walked close to the fireplace and rubbed his hands together.

  Philip tapped his spectacles. “Isaac fixed my glasses.”

  Isaac waited for Leonard’s recognition before realizing it was childish to want his praise. The older man held his hands out for the fire to warm them. “Have either of you seen Eddie?”

  Philip looked at Isaac to answer. He was more than glad to. “He left an hour ago for the outhouse and didn’t come back.”

  Leonard raised a weary eyebrow. “Is he sick?”

  “Didn’t seem to be. Outhouse is empty.”

  Leonard huffed. “I’ve about had it with that boy.”

  Isaac wanted to mention Eddie had left them to work on the parsonage alone most afternoons, and when he looked for him, he was usually on his bunk. The opportunity to denigrate his competition was as appetizing as Sybil’s cooking. But that was the kind of behavior his brother would try.

  He’d rather lose the job than act like Nathan.

  But he knew where the boss could find Eddie. “Look in the bunkhouse.”

  Leonard pressed his lips together firmly and nodded once. “I decided to split the south fields between you boys for spring planting. You should be finished here in a day or two, and I want you to start plowing your fields as soon as the ground is ready. Planting will begin on the first day of September.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Leonard looked at the floor and shook his head. “That boy had better get himself together before then.”

  Or not, Isaac wanted to add. As far as he was concerned, the job was his. The farm was his to manage. The fields were his to plow. If Eddie didn’t show up for work, the deal Frederick made with Eddie’s grandfather wouldn’t matter to anyone. The farm would be Isaac’s.

  He held back a satisfied grin and looked out the front window at the inn across the road. Once the job was secure, he would ask Sybil to be his bride. As soon as the thought settled into his will, a grip of regret pulled at his insides. He knew better than to plan things. That had always been the quickest way to get disappointed. He looked at the window he knew was her bedroom. All it took was one thought of her and his plan felt right.

  “You hear me?”

  He returned his attention to Leonard. “No, sir.”

  “I said that you’d better get your head together too, son.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A man’s voice quietly reading from the Psalms murmured through the slim opening of Frederick’s bedroom door. It sounded like Philip, but Sybil hadn’t noticed anyone go upstairs since lunch. Not knowing who was in her father’s room, she tapped a nervous knuckle on the door. It opened a few more inches.

  Philip stood from the armless chair beside Frederick’s bed. Her father lay under the quilt with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. The overseer kept one finger in his Bible to hold his place. “Good afternoon, Miss Sybil. I was reading your father his favorite verses.”

  She stepped into the room, leaving the door open. “Sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize you were up here. Or that you knew him well enough to know his favorite verses.”

  Frederick snored softly, and Philip glanced down at him. “Our conversations have been limited since my arrival at Falls Creek, but on the rare and precious occasions that he has clarity, I try to learn all I can about him.”

  That confirmed more about Philip’s heart than her father’s condition. He was certainly the right man to lead the church at Falls Creek whether or not it grew into a village.

  She crossed the room to stand by the bed. “Our conversations are rare and precious of late too.” She touched Frederick’s hand. It was cooler than she expected. The threat of crying tightened her throat. “He used to stay in the dining hall after dinner every night and entertain us all with his stories and card games. He was always sure to include the traders and travelers in the games. Everyone liked him. I would watch him, amazed at the way he could get even the shyest person into a conversation. Now he sleeps while I talk. I know he can’t hear me, but still I talk. Seems silly, doesn’t it?”

  “Not at all. Just because he doesn’t respond, doesn’t mean he isn’t listening.”

  Philip’s words warmed her heart. She studied her father’s age-spotted but peaceful face. His white beard had grown wild over his thinning cheeks.

  She wasn’t ready to lose him. Not yet. The lump in her throat grew. “I still have so much to say to him.”

  Philip took a step back from Frederick’s bedside. “Then I shall take my leave.”

  She hadn’t meant to chase him off. She almost stopped him, told him he was there first and should finish reading his Scriptures. The truth was she had half an hour before she needed to be back in the kitchen. “Thank you.”

  Philip nodded once. “You’re welcome.”

  He’d helped her so much in the two months he’d been at Falls Creek. “Thank you for everything. For being here. I mean that.”

  “I know.” He squeezed her arm gently then closed the door on his way out.

  She sat in the chair still warm from Philip. It was the chair her mother used to sit in while she laced her boots. Annabelle should be sitting here now at her husband’s bedside, keeping her promise to return.

  Sybil traced the thin strings of white hair off her father’s forehead and cleared her tight voice. “Eva said you didn’t eat your cinnamon rolls this morning. I saved a couple and will warm them up if you want them later. I know they’re your favorite.” She glanced at the cold soup bowl on a tray on the nightstand. “It doesn’t look like you touched your lunch either.”

  Everything else in the room was as it had been as long as Sybil could remember. The same framed watercolor picture of the inn hung on the wall over the headboard. The hair clips and trinkets on her mother’s dresser were right where Annabelle had left them eight years ago. If Sybil opened the dresser drawers, she probably would have found their contents exactly as they were after her mother left too.

  If only she could get her mother to come home. Then her father would snap out of his malaise. She could imagine the light in his eyes when he saw Annabelle. He would throw off the covers to stand on sturdy legs, beaming with happiness.

  Frederick’s snoring became light and rhythmic, breaking Sybil’s fantasy.

  “I wrote to Mother about Eva’s wedding next month. Haven’t heard yet, but since it will be warmer then, I’m hopeful that she can travel. Revel said he will come, and James too. We’ve planned for the wedding to be the Twentieth of October. Only about six weeks away.”

  He drew a long breath, and for a moment she thought he would awaken, but he didn’t. She silently prayed her father would make it until the wedding. Lately, every time she left his room she prayed he would be alive the next time she opened the door. Claudia said some elderly people dozed off and on all day for years. Seeing as how her father rarely came downstairs anymore and only left the house for church on Sundays—and th
at was with Eva and Solo’s help—she didn’t see how he could go on living this way for years.

  She touched his hand and ignored the snoring. “Father, I know this might seem sudden to you because I didn’t mention it before now, but I’m in love with Isaac Owens. I think he loves me too. I so badly want him to get the farm manager position and stay here. And to get your blessing with me. I know he hasn’t said he loves me yet and hasn’t asked for your blessing, but it’s because of that lousy deal you arranged between him and Eddie.

  “I don’t mean to disrespect you, honestly. It’s just that the job was supposed to be Isaac’s. Now everything is…” She blew out a forced breath and looked at her father’s closed eyelids. This was ridiculous. Why tell him any of this? He couldn’t hear. Wouldn’t do anything about it if he could. In truth, she wouldn’t be saying any of this if he were awake. Maybe that was the point.

  “Isaac has been working so hard. I barely get to see him. And in three weeks, Leonard will have to choose between Isaac and Eddie. I don’t see how he could possibly choose Eddie, but it’s still rotten to have this hanging over Isaac and me. I want to know that he will stay. I want him to know that he will stay. Then he’ll feel free to tell me he loves me. Maybe even ask me to marry him.”

  Her heavy heart didn’t give her time to smile at the thought. “Or maybe he won’t. I have no way of knowing for certain how sincere he is about me because he refuses to plan for the future. I love him, but still… I’m afraid he will leave. Just like everyone else.”

  Heels clicked lightly ascending the stairs. Sybil wiped a tear from her cheek and quickly stood as the door opened.

  As soon as Eva’s gaze fell on Sybil, she tilted her head and opened her arms. Sybil clung to her big sister and let the tears fall.

  Frederick continued snoring as if he were enjoying a Sunday afternoon nap and would awaken soon for a leisurely horseback ride with his girls. They would gallop across the meadow down to the creek and toss bread crumbs onto the water to watch the fish swarm at the creek’s rippling surface.

  That would never happen again.

  Even if her mother came back and it lifted her father’s spirits, he was too old to ride. And she was too old to cling to her childhood. She pulled away from Eva and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry—”

  Eva took her by the hand and led her across the hall into her room. Compassion softened her noble beauty. “What’s wrong, Syb?”

  “Nothing.” She willed her voice to be strong. “I came up to check on Father and got a little sad, that’s all.”

  “Pish posh. That is not all. Have you and Isaac had another spat?”

  Not another spat but no real resolution either. “No.”

  “You’ve been moping around here for weeks.”

  She looked back across the hall at her father’s room. “I wish we could all play cards after dinner like we used to. I’m alone most of the day and then it’s so quiet in the evenings without him coming downstairs. Especially since the weather is changing and the men can go back outside to work after dinner. I spend the afternoons dreading the evenings. I miss how it used to be when Father would set up games in the dining hall while you and I cleaned the kitchen and everyone would wait for us. Then we’d play games and laugh until he called it a night.”

  Eva’s eyes widened. “I miss it too.” She tapped a thin finger to her lips. “Father did that because he wanted everyone to enjoy their evenings at the inn. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “He wouldn’t want us to be miserable just because he can’t come down.”

  * * *

  A whisper of sunlight lingered above the horizon after dinner for the first time all winter. Spring was coming. Sybil leaned over the sink to see as much of the western sky out the window as possible. She glanced away long enough to rinse a dish she’d been scrubbing, place it in the drainer, and grab the next.

  Eva’s heels clicked the floorboards as she carried an armload of dishes into the kitchen. As soon as she set them down, she leaned over the sink to take in the view too. “I feel giddy just thinking about spring.”

  “You? Giddy?”

  Eva raised her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Sybil looked at the hope-filled sky. “No. So do I.”

  Men’s bootsteps thudded down the hallway and out the side door. Sybil checked over her shoulder, thinking one of the men might be Isaac. The door closed before she saw who had left. It couldn’t have been Isaac. He would have stopped to thank her for dinner.

  She asked Eva, “Is Isaac still in the dining hall?”

  A secretive smile added a hint of wicked pleasure to her sister’s voice. “He is, but you are not to go in there just yet.”

  “I didn’t intend to.” The men who had walked out the side door crossed the yard toward the bunkhouse and into her view. It was Eddie and a trader who had arrived right before dinner. She hadn’t seen Solo leave the inn yet, nor Leonard and Claudia. Her hands scrubbed the dishes faster. They were up to something. She could feel it. “Why can’t I go into the dining hall?”

  Eva grabbed a dish towel and started drying dishes. “I’m supposed to keep you in here until the kitchen chores are done.”

  She paused her sloshing rag and tried to listen for any clues. “Did Father come downstairs?”

  “No.” Eva’s voice flattened with sadness. “He ate half his roll and fell asleep before he could eat the fish.”

  Half of Sybil’s heart ached for her father and half was thrilled with excitement over whatever surprise was being arranged for her in the other room. The front door closed loudly and Zeke’s dog gave one sharp yap. Someone left. “Was that Philip going home?”

  “He wanted to stay but he had scraps for his chickens.”

  She had to look at Eva to see if she was jesting. “Chickens?”

  Her sister chuckled. It sounded like their mother’s laugh. “The trader who just arrived brought chickens for him. A gift from the overseer of Southpoint.”

  Her heart jumped in her chest. “That trader was from Southpoint? Did he have any letters from Mother? I’m waiting for her response about the wedding.”

  Eva squeezed her arm. “Nothing from Mother this time. Just a letter for Isaac. Keep washing, please. They are waiting for us.”

  “Who is?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Sybil hurriedly washed dishes, and the kitchen was clean in record time. She gave the waning daylight one last look as she untied her apron.

  Eva stopped her at the kitchen doorway. “You can’t go out there like that.” She unpinned Sybil’s hair and combed it out with nimble fingers, then pinched her cheeks and straightened her lace collar.

  Sybil swatted her sister’s hand. “All right enough. I want to see what all this is about.”

  She took one step into the hallway then paused. Isaac and five other people who cared about her were in the dining hall preparing some sort of surprise for her. Eva had stopped to primp her, so it must have something to do with Isaac. What if Leonard had made his choice early and Isaac was staying at Falls Creek permanently and had talked to her father and was about to propose to her?

  The whole scene played through her mind in an instant. When she walked into the dining hall, he might be there waiting on one knee. Was she ready for marriage? It wasn’t all that her heart wanted, but it was the bulk of the aching desire inside her.

  Eva turned back to her. “Are you coming or not?”

  She imagined Isaac asking her to marry him and said, “I do.”

  “You do what?”

  “Hm? Oh, nothing.” She focused on the soft glow of last light coming through the inn’s west-facing windows. It mixed with the overhead lanterns that streamed into the dining hall and made the inn feel alive. “I’m coming,” she said as she followed her sister into the warm room.

  They had pushed two tables together to make one long table and stacked playing cards at the center of each table. Zeke’s dog bru
shed past her legs and ran to his boy who smiled up at her from his seat at the table with Leonard, Claudia, and Bailey. There were four empty chairs at the second table. Solo stood by one, holding it out for Eva, and Isaac stood by another with his hand open to Sybil.

  It wasn’t what she had imagined—nothing ever was—but it was almost as good.

  She crossed the room and smiled at Isaac as she sat. Before he lowered himself to the chair beside her, he leaned close to her ear. “You are so beautiful.”

  Her insides clenched like she’d jumped from the roof. No one else would have heard him, but everyone was watching them. Her face felt hotter than a summer spent over the stove.

  Eva spoke up, diverting everyone’s attention. “Now that we’re all here… Before dinner, I asked Father if he wanted anything special. I meant for the meal, but he replied that he wanted to know we were taking care of each other and the guests down here. He said to make sure to do all that he’d taught me.

  “Earlier today, Sybil reminded me of how Father used to keep our evenings lively with games and conversation.” She tapped a deck of cards. “When I talk to him tomorrow, I want to tell him we are keeping his traditions alive.”

  Leonard lifted his cup. “Hear, hear!”

  Claudia clinked her cup to his. Zeke giggled at them and snatched the deck of cards at their table. He sat on his knees while he announced they would play Pairs. While he split the cards between himself, Leonard, Claudia, and Bailey, Isaac picked up the deck at their table.

  He looked at her while his hands shuffled. “I heard you’re unbeatable at Bluff.”

  Solo and Eva instantly chuckled.

  A quick laugh escaped Sybil’s throat. “There’s no way you heard that. I’m terrible at bluffing.”

  Isaac’s charming half-grin told her he was jesting. She picked up the cards he dealt her. “I have a feeling you are the one who’s proficient at playing Bluff.”

  And she was right.

  Through each round they tried to size each other up, dropping marbles into a bowl to raise their bets. Eva tried to be all business, but she lifted her chin haughtily whenever she had good cards. Solo probably would have been even with Isaac if it were just the two of them playing, but every time he bluffed, he wiggled his eyebrows at Eva.