Frankie nodded and admired her hair some more.
“Are you two going to be in there all night?” A voice spoke outside the door.
Missy laughed. “We’re coming, Jared.” She turned to Frankie. “Let’s go eat!”
Chapter 11
Everyone bowed their heads as Jared began to speak. Frankie listened to every word, guilt washing through her as she remembered her neglect of prayer and meditation to God.
“Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you with humble hearts tonight. First, let us thank You for taking care of Isaac and Charlie, and giving them back to us safe and unharmed. We also thank You for supplying this food that we are about to eat. Give us each a spirit of love and thankfulness to You for our many blessings. Amen.”
“Amen,” they all chorused.
“Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starved,” Seth said, reaching for a bowl of peas. He offered it to Missy, first.
***
Frankie smiled as Charlie ate his third piece of cornbread. “Don’t eat too fast, or you’ll choke.“ Normally, she would scold him for being greedy, but tonight he was the hero of the household. Aunt Della had forced several servings of everything on him.
“He worked up an appetite with all that rescue work,” Seth grinned, reaching for his cup of coffee. “Where did you learn to swim like that, Charlie?”
The six year old swallowed his cornbread and took a sip of water before he answered. “The Reverend Brown, back home. He used to take me swimming a lot. Said it was important to know if I was going to spend a lot of time fishing. And that way I can rescue Frankie if she falls in.” He gave her a mischievous grin and reached for his fork.
“You just worry about keeping yourself rescued,” she nodded, feeling the heat rush to her face as everyone at the table looked in her direction.
“Well–” Jared began. The door opened and interrupted the conversation.
“There you are, young man!” Della Murphy said to the newcomer. “I’ve been worried as an old setting hen about where you’ve been off to. Mark, this is Frankie and Charlie, Wally Stoner’s niece and nephew.” She turned to look at Frankie. “And this is Mark, the youngest of the bunch.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mark nodded, hanging his hat on one of the hooks on the wall.
Frankie smiled and nodded. Smaller than his brothers, Mark Murphy was the only blond. Seth had mentioned how shy he could be, and she couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to keep his eyes on the flames from the fire Della had lit in the fireplace to help everyone dry the creek water off of themselves.
“So, did you bring back any horses?” Jared asked, moving his chair to make room for another at the table.
Mark shook his head. “Not today. Pretty much a sorry looking lot they had of them over at the Egan Ranch.”
“Well, we’ll need to be finding some soon,” Jared answered. “Those ten out back are about ready to be sold. I don’t want you getting bored and complaining there’s nothing to do,” he teased, indicating the extra chair to Mark.
“Pwease, more milk?” Isaac asked, wiping his hands on the towel his mother had pinned around his neck.
“You can have anything you want. For tonight, anyway,” she laughed, catching Jared’s narrowing eyes.
“I guess being spoiled for one night won’t hurt,” he said.
Frankie coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to sound. Jared had barely had his eyes off his son the entire meal.
“I’ll fetch it since I’m up,” Mark volunteered, getting the pitcher from the sideboard area. “And by the way,” he added, “what’s the occasion for all the spoiling?”
Chapter 12
Bright moonlight shone through the filmy curtains, casting its milky glow across the small room. Frankie dared to glance at the clothes draped across the trunk, the skirt and blouse that belonged to Missy. The woman had fussed through a whole trunk of things before she found them, insisting Frankie wear them in place of her soaked work clothes.
Frankie sighed and snuggled deeper under the quilt. For the first time in five years she felt like a young woman. Anyone seeing her tonight would have known she was not Charlie’s brother. The thought sent a streak of guilt through her, but after all these years it was getting easier to ignore. And she had almost felt pretty, despite having to wear the old work boots. She breathed in deep. Missy had told her to keep the riding skirt and blouse, but after wearing them to church tomorrow, she would send them home with Seth on Monday. Missy would need them again after her new baby was born.
Charlie, fast asleep beside her, stirred and turned. With Mrs. Hamilton gone to visit her sister until Monday, Frankie had insisted he share the room with her. She would have a real rest, not having to get up every few hours and go out to the hallway to check on him.
Everything is almost perfect, right now, Lord. And I want to apologize for not talking to You much for the past year or so. It’s just. . .just that it seemed things were going so bad. Kind of like they did before, back when Charlie was born and everybody kept telling me how it was Your will for those things to happen. I guess I thought that if I didn’t bother with You, maybe You wouldn’t bother with me. But this afternoon. . .what you did for Charlie and little Isaac was more than I deserved. I want to do my best to live the way You want me to. I know I’ve never been real good at following directions, but, please, just show me how to do whatever it is that You want.
Chapter 13
“Good morning, Mrs. Tillman.” Frankie did her best to sound welcoming. She could see Seth watching from across the store. He had told her this morning that it was about time she took charge of the front counter. Her reading and math were sufficient.
“Good morning, Miss McGregor,” Mrs. Tillman returned, handing her list to Frankie. “It’s a fine day outside, isn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am, it is,” she agreed, praying the woman didn’t notice her fingers shaking as she checked the items written on the paper. “I’ll have these things for you in a moment,” she said, heading for the coffee bin. Taking the scoop, she dug into the beans, enjoying the strong aroma. Three pounds weighed out, she put them in a burlap bag and headed to the counter. Two more items and she was done. Now for the hard part.
She was grateful to see that Seth had moved to the aisle next to the counter, his duster busy on the merchandise, but his eyes on her.
“Will that be cash or charge, Mrs. Tillman?” She asked, arranging the items in the woman’s hand basket.
“Charge,” Mrs. Tillman nodded.
Frankie opened the accounts book and ran her fingers down the row of T’s. She chewed on her lip. There seemed to be five Tillman’s. “What is the first name on that account, ma’am?” She didn’t like asking, but she was still learning who everyone was.
“It will be under Hiram,” Mrs. Tillman smiled. “The Abraham and Rupert you see are my sons.”
Frankie nodded and carefully wrote the items, date, and amount in the book. “You have a nice day, Mrs. Tillman,” she said, offering a wave as the woman left. With Mrs. Tillman out the door, Frankie gripped the counter and wished for a place to sit, if only for a moment. She had remained calm and actually done the transaction. It had gone better than anything she had imagined.
“Humph! About time you actually did some work,” Mrs. Hamilton said, making her way behind the counter and collecting up a handful of pins for the fabric she was working with.
Deflated for a moment, Frankie forced a smile to her lips. “I’m glad you approve.”
Mrs. Hamilton scowled and headed back to her work.
“Mrs. Sunshine, that’s what we ought to call her,” Seth teased, his voice low in her ear as he leaned toward her.
Frankie shook her head and hid a grin. Stealing a glance in Mrs. Hamilton’s direction, she whispered, “Now Seth, you never know what sort of problems she might be going through. She gets a lot of letters and they never seem to be good news.”
He smiled. “Well enough about her. You d
id just fine, Frankie. I think you’re on your own with the purchases from now on. I’m proud of you.”
She turned her attention to the accounts book, opening and re-checking her entry. Anything to keep him from seeing the blush on her cheeks.
***
She stared at the tattered magazine, pieces of it scattered across the sheet. Mama had always kept it perfect, handling it carefully whenever she and Frankie looked at it.
Frankie swallowed hard and fought the tears that threatened to burst from her eyelids. Mrs. Hamilton. There was no other answer. She had pilfered through the trunk that held Frankie’s only belongings, and she had torn a picture from the Godey’s Lady’s Magazine.
Carefully retrieving each piece from the bed, she stuffed them inside the magazine and rolled it back as she kept it, tying it with the bit of yarn that had fallen on the floor.
She opened the trunk to see what other damage had been done. The basket was open, the Bible pushed against the side coils, where the vandal had shoved it as she rifled through the other contents.
Frankie moved things until she found the ruby brooch. She clutched it to her heart and closed her eyes. I don’t want to be mad at her, Lord. I know that somehow she’s having a hard time of it. But I don’t know how I can forgive her for this. It’s all I have left of Mama.
***
Mrs. Hamilton was measuring out a sack of flour for a customer when Frankie returned from her short noon break. Averting her eyes from the woman, Frankie headed toward the cash register and picked up the accounts book, turning the pages carefully. She had to occupy herself with something, or she would walk over there and tell the woman just what she thought of her.
Seth, carrying a box of toilet soaps, stopped and stared at her. “Are you all right?”
If only she could ignore his question. But he seemed always ready to poke his nose in her business. “Yes. I’m fine.” She slammed the book closed and reached for the pencil kept next to the cash register.
He set the box on the counter and his fingers closed around her arm. She resisted the urge to fall against him and cry. If only she had someone to console her. Say that it didn’t matter. That all the good things in her life were ahead of her, not behind her. That it didn’t matter if someone sorted through her belongings and ruined one of her most prized possessions.
His voice was soft. “You don’t seem all right to me. Tell me what happened.”
Frankie pulled away from his hold and looked up at him. His face was kind, but she wasn’t in a mood to pretend that he might truly care about her and the things that happened to her. “I’ll tell you one thing, Seth Murphy. When I have my own place, I’m going to have a lock on the door to keep everyone else out.”
Seth chuckled. “Nobody locks up their house, Frankie.”
“Well I’m going to,” she said, pushing past him and heading toward the storage room. She was taking the lid from a crate of newly arrived books when she heard the door open.
He folded his arms and stared. “I said I want to know what’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing much,” she said, beginning to sort through the box, separating the children’s readers from the adults. “Mrs. Hamilton went through some of my things, that’s all. It just makes me mad that she had the nerve to go through my private belongings. She. . .she tore something out of a magazine I had. It belonged to my mother. I never meant for it to be destroyed.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I have to say, that would make me mad, too. Have you said anything to her?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I just found out when I went to our room after I finished eating. She not only tore a picture from the magazine, she had taken it from my trunk. A place she should never have been looking.”
“Well don’t let it fester in you. Get it out with her soon.”
She sighed. It was all easy for him to say. He didn’t have to live with the woman.
Chapter 14
Frankie ignored the nerves that danced in her stomach. Seth had been glancing at her all morning from across the store. She’d smiled once or twice and he’d just looked away, like he hadn’t wanted her to know that he was watching her.
She glanced down at her apron, thinking maybe something had stained it. No. It was fine. She would just have to ignore him.
She re-hung the row of dresses, organizing them by size. Customers were always taking them down, examining them, then just putting them back on the rod in any order they saw fit. It was a wonder any of them could find anything in their own size.
“Frankie?”
She jumped as Seth’s voice sounded behind her. Her hand on her throat, she turned. “You scared me!”
A sheepish smile covered his face. “Sorry about that.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
She waited a moment. He usually knew when things needed done in the store and took it upon himself to order her around. Sometimes it seemed as if he had been born to the job. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat again. “It’s about Saturday. I mean. . .since the store is closing at noon, I wondered if you would. . .I mean, I’m taking Violet on a picnic over by the creek.”
Frankie folded her arms and waited. Violet. His favorite topic of conversation. He had taken Frankie out to see the house he was building several times, now. He was constantly wanting her opinion, her reassurance that Violet would like it. Having to convince him that his spoiled sweetheart would be satisfied with the little board house always sent a stab of guilt through her. Violet was not going to be pleased with the home, unless God changed her heart. “That’s nice. The picnic, I mean.”
Seth rubbed his chin. “I was wondering. . .I mean usually Penny and Gerald Hall go with us, but Gerald’s out of town. And, well, Aunt Della wouldn’t approve of me and Violet going by ourselves. So. . .Mark said if you’d come he would go with us.”
Her heart dropped. He wanted her to be a chaperone while he courted Violet. The very thought was repulsive. To have to sit and watch the two of them make eyes at each other would be more than she could bear. “I don’t think so. I mean there’s Charlie, and–”
He shook his head. “No problem with Charlie. He can stay at the house and play with Isaac. And. . .I mean, about Mark. He’s just doing this as a favor to me.”
“Well of course he is,” she snapped before she caught her words. She hadn’t thought he meant Mark wanted to go to the picnic with her for any other reason. “That’s the only reason I’m considering going, too.”
His eyes opened wide with surprise at her abruptness. “Well, yeah. I know that.”
It was true, she and Mark both cared about him and wanted him to be happy. But what Mark meant as a nice gesture to his brother, was something that would leave a bruise on her own heart.
Chapter 15
Frankie stared out the door of the store. The rain she had prayed for was not happening. Blue, sunny skies were definitely in store for the day. And Charlie had been all but dancing around the store all morning in anticipation of his visit to the Murphy Ranch.
Frankie sighed and went back to weighing the beans for Mr. Hendricks order. If only she were half as happy about the afternoon as Charlie. “That’s five pounds, sir,” she said, handing the cotton sack to the customer.
They both headed toward the counter. “Seth will get your order,” she said, forcing the young man to turn his attention away from Violet Summers. She had shown up over an hour ago, as she ‘just couldn’t wait’ for the picnic to get started.
“Look, Frankie!”
She turned to see Charlie standing near the display of men’s hats. A large Stetson covered most of his face. She felt a giggle begin to work its way up her throat. She gave a slight cough to cover her mirth.
“I’m going to save my money and buy one,” he grinned, removing the hat from his head and returning it to the shelf.
She nodded. With the price on the tag that hung from the brim, he just might grow into it before he could afford
it.
“Are you two ready for your picnic?” Wally Stoner’s voice asked.
Frankie gave a slight gasp as she turned. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said. A smile crossed her face when her eyes met his. The cruel and uncaring man that she’d dreamed up had been laid to rest these past few months. Despite his kindness, she had been terrified of him at first. But affection was beginning to grow in her heart. The gruff, exterior was only for show. In their short time there, he had more than made them feel like family.
“Well, no need to stay any longer. I’m going to help Mrs. Hamilton close up the store. You young folks can be on your way,” Wally said, turning to glance at Seth.
Seth nodded and immediately untied his work apron. He spoke to Wally, but his eyes were on Violet. “Thank you, sir.”
***
“Let’s pick up the pace a little.” Seth gave a soft slap of the reins to encourage the pair of black ponies. One of them nickered in reply and they both moved a bit faster.
Frankie sat straight and stiff next to Mark on the makeshift back seat in the buckboard. Her stomach churned and danced. She had never been part of a couple for any sort of event. What had possessed her to agree to this? She looked away from Mark, watching the scenery on her side of the road.
It was Seth’s fault. Spending an afternoon with him had been more than she could resist. Even if it meant watching him admire and tease Violet Summers.
“This looks like the place,” Seth announced, pulling back on the reins and guiding the horses under a canopy of large trees.
Frankie glanced up through the branches and admired the blue sky peeking through. Pink roses ran wild among the grove of pecan trees where Seth had parked the wagon. In their enthusiasm, the rose colored blooms spilled out into the grassy field, adding a bright spot of color among the green. Just like Shepherd’s Grove back home. By now, Mama’s grave would be covered in her favorite blooms.
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