Then he heard the humming, and his steps slowed. It was more than humming. An occasional phrase floated over to him from the high flowers. “How great Thou art. Then sings my soul—”
He couldn’t help glancing sideways along the white picket fence. A profusion of flowers grew along it.
Before Noah could command his legs to resume their pace, Rianna straightened from where she was kneeling at the edge of a garden border, and their gazes met. Instantly, a large smile broke over her face.
Noah stopped, unable to resume his movement.
“Hello, Noah. Back from the sea?” Rianna looked up from under a wide-brimmed hat and sat back on her heels. A flat, open basket lay on the grass at her side, a pile of cut flowers scattered upon it.
“Yes. Just back.” He couldn’t do anything but stare at her. He felt like a man who hadn’t eaten in three days and was suddenly presented with a feast.
“Good catch, I hope?” She held a pair of clippers in her gloved hands.
“Fair enough.”
“Hello, there.” Rianna looked past him, and it was then he remembered Joe’s presence. Before he could dismiss his first mate, Rianna stood and came to lean across the picket fence. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She removed one of her gloves and held out her hand. “Rianna Bruce.”
Joe stepped forward shyly, sticking out his own hand. “Joe MacDonald.”
Rianna smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. MacDonald.”
Noah watched Rianna’s charm take hold of the boy. His chest expanded a fraction with the pride of being referred to as “mister.” “Oh, just call me Joe. Everyone does.”
“Very well. Joe.” She removed her hand. “May I interest you two men in a cup of tea after your journey?”
“Thanks, ma’am,” Joe answered at once. “I’d love to stay, but I’m expected back home.”
“Of course. Some other time, perhaps.”
“Sure. I’d like that. Well, be seein’ you.” He touched his hand to his hat and set off down the road, whistling.
Rianna turned her gaze to Noah. “How about you, Mr. Samuels? Are you expected home right away?”
He could see the playfulness in her amber eyes. At the moment, they awaited his reply, her two finely drawn eyebrows raised above them.
Before he could formulate words of refusal, she continued. “The offer of tea comes with blueberry cake.” She swung her clippers back and forth over the fence. “You know, I’ve been up to my neck in blueberries for the last three days. Uh-huh,” she said with a nod. “Thanks to a mysterious benefactor, my family will enjoy blueberries this winter.”
Noah could feel his own neck redden, and an unwilling smile tug at his lips. Rianna just kept looking at him archly until his smile widened.
“Now, how about that tea?”
Although tempted, he suddenly remembered how he must look—and smell. He made a futile gesture toward his garments. “I’m not too presentable.”
“Fiddlesticks. You should have seen me this morning covered in flour and blueberries.” She opened the gap in the gate wider. “Come on, Mother will be glad of the company.”
With that final reasoning, Noah argued no further, but followed her up the path to the front porch. Her black dress brushed against the bright flowers and foliage lining the path. She carried her basket of cut flowers on one arm. “Mother, look whom I’ve invited to have tea with us.”
Mrs. Devon was sitting in a wicker rocker in the recesses of the porch. She smiled in welcome. “Hello, Noah. How are you?”
He walked over to her. “Fine, thank you, ma’am. Hope you don’t mind my stopping by. I’m really not fit to be seen in company. I’ve just gotten off the boat and was heading back to Mrs. Avery’s.”
“Nonsense. Come, sit a spell.”
He glanced at Rianna. “Perhaps if I could wash up a bit first?”
“Certainly,” Mrs. Devon answered for her daughter. “Just follow Rianna out to the kitchen.”
“Come along.” Rianna beckoned. “I’ve got to put these flowers in water before they wilt in this heat.”
Once in the kitchen, she showed him to the sink and fetched him a clean towel. He heard her bustling about as he washed his face and hands.
“It’s been warm, hasn’t it?” she asked as she arranged the flowers in a vase. “Of course, you probably don’t notice on the ocean. It must be nice to be out there, only you and the sea and the Lord.”
He made no reply, content to hear her talk as she turned to get the tea things ready. He took the linen towel and rubbed his face and hands in it. It smelled clean and fresh.
“Is Joe your helper?”
“Mmm-hmm, first mate,” he answered absently.
“He seems like a nice young man.” Rianna placed cups and saucers, creamer and sugar bowl on the tray then glanced at him with a smile, which caught him up short.
“I had my own young helper with my baking this morning.”
He paused, looking at her with a question.
“Melanie.”
Noah frowned, wondering at the sense of disquiet he felt. “Melanie was here while I was gone?”
She smiled. “Twice. Once for tea, and then again this morning to help me bake a cake.” Almost as if she could read his thoughts, her face sobered. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought with the two boys visiting at your place, she might want a little female companionship. I did ask Mrs. Avery’s permission.”
Noah shook his head, his worry replaced by confusion. “That wasn’t necessary, I’m sure. I—I hope Melanie didn’t make a nuisance of herself.”
Rianna drew her eyebrows together. “Nuisance? Goodness, no. She’s a delightful child, a credit to both you and Mrs. Avery.”
He stopped drying his hands, his mind too mesmerized by her proximity and the warm tenor of her voice to think about his uneasiness over Melanie getting too attached to her. He knew from experience that Rianna wouldn’t stay. He didn’t want his daughter to be the one to get hurt this time when she left.
“What’s the matter?” Her soft voice finally broke through his thoughts.
Noah set down the towel. “Uh—nothing.”
Rianna turned back to the kitchen counter. “Anyway, Melanie was a big help.” She lifted a cover and held a cake aloft with a flourish. “Blueberry cake.” She set it on the tray then poured water from the kettle into the pot and set it beside the cake.
“She takes after you.”
He started. “What—? Yes, so I’ve been told.”
Rianna took up the vase and inhaled the flowers’ fragrance.
“Mmm.” She held the bouquet out before him. “Have you ever seen anything lovelier?”
Not noticing that he was looking at her and not the flowers as he shook his head, she continued. “Except for those roses on your property, of course.” She turned her attention back to the laden tray. “Would you carry the tray for me, please?”
He jumped to attention. When he was ready to lift it, Rianna stopped him with a gasp. “Your hands!”
He looked at them and knew they mustn’t be a pretty sight to a lady.
“They’re full of cuts. Do you get those from fishing?”
“Yes.”
She set down the vase and took one of his hands in both of hers, turning it around. “Don’t you put anything on them?”
Her voice had taken on the professional tone of nurse.
He made a sound of amusement. “Salt water.”
She continued examining his hand, and he had an urge to take it back and stuff it in his pocket. His skin was red and rough, marked by old scars and fresh wounds. His fingernails were not taken care of, his palms and fingertips, which she was now touching, were hard and callused. Her own hands were slim and soft and pale by contrast.
She pursed her lips. “That probably keeps them from festering, but it must dry them out awfully. What you need is a good dose of wool grease. Lanolin,” she explained, catching his frown. “I’ll get you some and give it to you next time yo
u stop by.”
“No need,” he said quickly, wanting no more close examination of his unsightly hands. “They heal up in winter, anyway.”
She said no more, but led the way back outside, holding the door open for him.
Back on the porch, they settled down to their tea and cake. Mrs. Devon asked him a few questions about people he knew. Mostly he was content to eat the cake and listen to the two women talking. As soon as they’d finished their tea, the ladies took up their sewing.
He watched Mrs. Devon stitch a piece of white linen. He noticed her taking frequent pauses, stopping as if to rest her wrists and hands. Rianna’s progress seemed much quicker by contrast.
At one point, she shook out the cloth, and Noah noticed its pretty, lavender color against her black skirt.
“What are you sewing?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Nothing. Just a garment.” Rianna bunched it back onto her lap.
Noah was intrigued at her change in manner. She’d never seemed so…he’d almost venture to say embarrassed. “It’s a pretty color.”
Rianna looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise. Did she think he was color-blind? he wondered in amusement.
Luckily, Mrs. Devon made up for her daughter’s sudden reticence. “Yes, isn’t it a lovely shade? I finally convinced Rianna to make herself a new gown. It’ll be ready just in time for the clambake tomorrow, won’t it, dear?”
Rianna assented with her head.
Mrs. Devon continued with a chuckle. “I told her I refused to have her in black any longer. I’m tired of seeing only black and brown in the sickroom. She might be a nurse, but she doesn’t have to look it!”
Noah watched Rianna during the conversation and noticed that the more her mother explained, the more studiously Rianna bent her head over her sewing. He found it very interesting to find her so silent.
“I knew this color was right the moment I saw it. It favors her complexion, don’t you agree, Noah?”
He imagined how nice it would look against Rianna’s auburn locks. He looked from her hair to her down-turned face, and it was then he noticed her heightened color. It dawned on him, she was blushing! He stretched out his legs in front of him, resting his hands on them. “You could be right,” he told Mrs. Devon. “Why don’t you hold it up, Rianna, so I can see for myself.” He kept his tone devoid of anything but innocent curiosity, but he began to savor the moment.
Rianna took a while to comply with his request, continuing to stitch at the garment. Finally, she knotted her thread and broke it off with her teeth. She stuck the needle into the pincushion and removed her thimble. With a final shake of the garment, she stood.
As she held the dress to her front, she finally met Noah’s gaze.
Their glances locked, and all thoughts of teasing left Noah’s mind. He forgot his surroundings and ceased to hear Mrs. Devon’s voice in the background. His senses were filled with the image of the woman standing before him, transformed by the lavender cloth draped in front of her to the young girl who’d laughed and danced with him so long ago.
Chapter Five
“Look at Mr. Samuels!” Seven-year-old Tad’s voice shouted down the entry hall. Everyone turned to look up the stairs as Noah made his way down, wishing he could just turn right around and go back to his room.
“You look like you was going courtin’!” his twelve-year-old brother, Robert, piped up.
Noah could feel his face getting hotter as Mrs. Avery and Mrs. Johnson both inspected him from head to foot.
“He’s turnin’ beet-red,” Tad chimed in.
Before Noah could take the two young ones by the scruffs of their necks and muzzle them, Melanie stepped up to him. “Oh, Papa, you decided to come with us! I’m so glad.”
Noah swallowed, not sure when he’d made the decision. “Yes, I thought you might like the company.”
“You look handsome, Papa,” she said softly, taking in his suit.
He smiled down at her. “I figured I’d better be presentable if I was going to take the prettiest girl in town to the picnic.”
She giggled then took a step back and held out her sprigged gown with both hands. “Do you like my dress?”
“I sure do, Mellie.”
Mrs. Avery interrupted them. “You look right handsome, Noah.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he answered, wishing he could just go unnoticed out to the barn. “You look quite fine yourself.”
She smiled prettily, patting her new bonnet. “Thank you.” Before she could speak any further, Mrs. Johnson sniffed, pointedly ignoring Noah and turning to the glass in the hallway.
He cleared his throat and faced her back, knowing he’d get no peace until he’d said his piece. “Mrs. Johnson.”
Mrs. Avery’s daughter turned to him slowly, her nose tilted up. “Yes, Mr. Samuels? Did you have something to say to me?”
“I wanted to apologize for any rudeness to you the other day at supper.”
She stared down her nose at him a moment before sniffing a second time. “Well, I should say, I was quite offended by your remarks.”
Noah bit down. She wasn’t going to make it easy, but he’d plod on, if only for his landlady’s sake. Mrs. Avery’s wrinkled face looked at him so hopefully. “Yes, well, it was inexcusable of me.”
“There now, no harm was meant,” Mrs. Avery put in. “I’m so glad you changed your mind about accompanying us to the clambake.”
He turned to the older lady. “I thought I could take all of you, if it isn’t too late.” He turned deliberately to the younger woman. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
She began to soften. “Not at all. It would be most gentlemanly of you to escort us.”
Noah felt as if he’d just run through a mortar field. “Well, that’s settled then. I’ll go hitch up the wagon.”
By the time they reached the wide cove where the clambake was being held, Mrs. Johnson had recovered her goodwill toward him. “I told you an outing would do you good,” she said as they spread out their blanket on the sand.
As soon as he’d unloaded everything and seen them settled, he took off, joining the men congregated about a large driftwood fire.
“Hey, there, Noah, good to see.” He was slapped on the back by some of his acquaintances. “You’re looking grand.”
Joe ran up to him with a big smile of welcome, and they all talked fishing for some time.
Noah pulled at his stiff collar, unused to being constricted around the neck. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves as soon as he’d arrived. The noon sun was directly overhead. The tide was out, and children scampered about the sand. It didn’t take him long to spot Rianna among them, her lavender dress like a spring flower against the drab brown of the clam flats. She seemed like a child herself, running among the others.
He shaded his eyes and looked around for Melanie. She was helping Mrs. Avery spread out their things. He sighed, wishing he could get her to join the other children more. But he didn’t want to push her and make her feel uncomfortable.
“Hey, Noah, I see you was away fishing. How far out did you go?”
He turned to the fisherman. “Oh, not too far, just beyond Grand Manan.” He didn’t say he could have stayed out another day, but had felt pulled back to shore.
They continued chatting awhile longer. When Noah turned to look toward the shore again, his gaze searched immediately for the splash of lavender. This time his attention was arrested by the yellow, sprigged figure beside it. His daughter was standing alongside Rianna out on the clam flats, looking intently downward. He remembered Rianna’s penchant for searching for treasure. He could hear the faint sound of their laughter across the flats.
He fought with himself to keep from joining them, ignoring the fact that Rianna was the sole reason for his being out today in the first place in his uncomfortable Sunday best. He stubbornly continued standing with the men even though he’d run out of things to say. When some of them suggested a game of horseshoes, Noah jumped
to help organize it.
He became aware the moment Rianna joined a group of onlookers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lavender skirt. Even more surprising was seeing her with a child by each hand, one of them his daughter.
He didn’t know why the sight of Rianna surrounded by children should be so startling. Was it only because the last time he’d known her, she’d been barely out of childhood herself? The notion of her as a grown woman was something he was still getting used to. The idea of her being good with children shouldn’t be so astounding. After all, her vivacious, fun-loving personality would be a magnet to children, like a female Pied Piper.
He focused on the horseshoe in his hand, taking aim. When he made the shot, it annoyed him how pleased he was when she cheered him on.
When the clambake pit was uncovered and everyone began drifting back to their groups to eat, he couldn’t help noticing the numerous family members surrounding Rianna. Once again he held back from going over to greet her. He recognized two of her sisters and their husbands who’d come from the nearby villages. Noah, by contrast, headed to sit at the edge of Mrs. Avery’s family group.
Melanie skipped up to him. “Papa, may I go sit with Mrs. Bruce and her sisters? Please, Papa?”
She hadn’t been this excited about someone since…well, he was the only one she got excited about. “I don’t know. She’s got a lot of company there.”
Melanie looked down, her bottom lip jutting out. “But Papa, she invited me.”
He felt caught between not wanting to disappoint her and not wanting her to come to depend on Rianna too much.
“Please, Papa? There are a lot of children there.”
He swallowed, feeling the bite of food he’d just taken stick in his throat. “Sure, sweetie. Go on and have a good time.”
Her bright smile lit her face. “Thank you, Papa!” Before he could say anything more, she had spun around and was running to the Devon gathering.
More like a clan, he thought sourly, eyeing their laughing group spread out over various blankets and folding chairs.
“Noah, you’ve hardly touched your food,” Mrs. Avery scolded. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like my potato salad? Isn’t the corn sweet? I thought you liked lobster!”
To Be a Mother Page 15