Homespun Hearts

by Caroline Fyffe

  Hugging each other and giggling, the twins quickly made their own plans. "When Pa plays them the fiddle, we can teach them how to clogg."

  "Clogg?" Esme somehow couldn't imagine two northern gentlemen in fine suits stomping their heels against the floorboards.

  "Sure!" Agrippa said. "And we can take them up on the mountain and show them how to pick lupin."

  Adelaide nodded enthusiastically. "Maybe Agrippa and I can take them swimming down to the river," she suggested.

  "No!" Sophrona and Esme spoke with immediate harmony.

  "That kind of thing shocks folks here," Esme told her sisters. "You'd probably give these city men apoplexy!"

  Sophrona nodded gravely. "It's very important," she told the twins, "to behave within the proper limits of genteel society."

  "Well, that's not going to be a whole lot of fun," Adelaide protested. "These fellers ain't gonna feel welcome, they're gonna feel downright bored."

  Tut-tutting lightly, Sophrona disagreed. "Ladylike behavior is never boring. Gentlemen find it fascinating."

  As if her words had suddenly become flesh, a light tap was heard on the front doorframe.

  "I'll get it," Mrs. Rhy said, easily pulling herself up from the chair and hurrying into the front hall.

  "Well, come on in," they heard her call in welcome. "I do swear marriage must be agreeing with you. You are looking mighty fine."

  "Why, thank you, ma'am." Armon Hightower's voice could be heard from the hallway.

  Both twins paled and then flushed as they glanced hastily at Sophrona. Her eyes lighted with anticipation.

  Armon followed Mrs. Rhy into the dining room. His smile was broad, his face relaxed, and his expression content.

  "Afternoon, Mrs. Rhy," he said deferentially to Esme. "Mr. Crabb, Miss Adelaide, Miss Agrippa."

  The young man's proper manners made him strangely unfamiliar and conversely unthreatening to the inhabitants of the room.

  "Well, good Lord!" Yo exclaimed. "Miz Rhy's got the right of it. You look downright gratified, and talking that way, too. Marriage must agree with you."

  "The right woman can change a man's whole outlook on life," Armon said easily. Then, as if suddenly realizing the unintended censure of his words, he gave an apologetic nod to the twins. "Although for certain I've been a fortunate man in all my friendships."

  The twins appeared more confused than embarrassed, and Sophrona, sensing their disorientation, hastily stepped into the breach. "I didn't expect you to come down from the mountain to get me," Sophrona declared with pleased surprise.

  The formerly arrogant young man actually blushed. "Ah, Phronie honey," he said. "I was calculating how much longer we'd have to be parted iffen I was to let you walk home by yourself."

  The pretty young redhead tittered shyly. "I do declare, Mr. Hightower," she said. "You have words that could charm the birds out of the trees."

  The twins sat staring at their former sweetheart in disbelief. They couldn't have been more surprised if he'd suddenly grown a second nose right in the middle of his forehead.

  "Well, I do believe that I'll go on and take my leave," Sophrona said to Esme. "I'm sure you'll do fine on your own."

  "You must come back," Adelaide said. "We haven't learned even half of what we need to know."

  "I swear," Agrippa added, "if you'll come back and give us another chance, I'll listen to every word you say."

  Sophrona looked at the girls curiously and then exchanged a puzzled glance with Esme.

  "Well, of course," she said. "If you want another lesson, I can come back tomorrow." She turned politely to her husband. "That is, of course, if it suits you, Mr. Hightower."

  Armon's expression was that of a faithful puppy. "I could walk you here and back home," he said with unreasonable delight.

  When the two had taken their leave, Esme turned questioningly to her sisters.

  "What made you change your mind?" she asked. "I thought you were all ready just to be yourselves and let Cleavis be embarrassed if he must."

  To the twins, the answer was obvious.

  "Did you see Armon?" Agrippa asked.

  "If being a lady can get a carousing man like him pulled up on a short leash," Adelaide stated, "give me ladyhood and give it to me quick!"

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Oh, he's wonderful!" Adelaide sighed blissfully as she leaned precariously out the front window.

  "Yes, he's perfect!" Agrippa agreed, joining her sister to stare at the two gentlemen who were exploring the trout ponds with Cleavis.

  Leaving at dawn for the train station at Russellville, Cleav had hardly had a moment to speak to the family. And after only perfunctory introductions all three men had eagerly headed out to examine the Rhy experiments in pisciculture.

  "And the spectacles just add that special something," Adelaide declared dramatically.

  "Spectacles?" Agrippa turned to stare at her sister. "I'm not talking about the four-eyed one," she said. "It's the handsome feller I've got my eye on."

  Adelaide looked back at her sister, incredulity written across her face. "The one with the spectacles is the handsome one!"

  Her sister laughed. "Adelaide, I'm thinking you might be needing spectacles yourself."

  The argument exploded as Esme stepped into the room, amazed at her sisters' unusual bickering. "What are you two doing in here?" she asked.

  "This is the best view of the ponds," Agrippa answered, as if that explained everything.

  "The ponds?" Esme put her hands sternly on her hips. "Neither of you has ever shown so much as a gnat's life of interest in the ponds. It's those two young gentlemen you're interested in, and I just won't have it."

  "What do you mean, 'you won't have it'?" Agrippa questioned belligerently.

  "You've been telling us to forget about Armon," Adelaide reminded her. "That gent with the glasses is the first lick of interest I've had in a man in weeks!"

  "For mercy's sakes, Adelaide," Agrippa implored her sister. "I tell you the one to set your cap for is the blond."

  Adelaide shook her head. "He just looks like another washed-out farmer," she told her sister. "The other fellow's got dignity."

  "Dignity?" Both Agrippa and Esme found that word strange on Adelaide's lips.

  "Well, it doesn't matter," Esme stated sharply. "I won't have either of you throwing yourself at these gentlemen."

  "Whyever not?" Agrippa protested. "They ain't married?"

  "No, they aren't," Esme admitted. "But when they do marry, they'll for sure be wanting ladies for wives," she said.

  Both young women raised chins in defiance.

  "I'll have you know," Agrippa said, "that Adelaide and I have been living and breathing every word that Sophrona's been telling us."

  "We can act just as ladylike as any of 'em," her sister proclaimed with confidence.

  "Acting like isn't being," Esme answered sharply. "Folks can't just change the way they are, no matter how much they want to."

  "Whyever would we want to change?" Adelaide asked. "You've been telling us ever since I can remember that we was just as good as anybody else. That we've got to hold our heads up high and know that nobody can make us less in our own eyes but ourselves."

  "That's right," Agrippa piped in. "You're always saying that it ain't the outside things that makes a person worthy or unworthy. It's what's in the heart and mind."

  The twins gazed at their sister curiously.

  Esme stood staring at the two women she had loved, and worried about, and felt responsible for since her mother's death. She had taught them to believe in themselves. Should she let her own failings tarnish their hopes?

  "I'm just a little nervous," Esme hedged awkwardly. "You just be careful around them city men. I don't want either of you being talked out to a deserted barn."

  Both girls giggled mischievously.

  "Not unless we're doing the talking," Agrippa said. "And Pa's waiting in the barn with a shotgun!"

  "We learned a wealth of knowl
edge from your dreadful circumstances," Adelaide added.

  Esme's mouth dropped open in stunned shock, and the twins grabbed her in a three-way sister hug. Their joy and happy chatter soothed her frayed nerves and nurtured her tender feelings.

  "If I don't get down there and see to those dad-gummed fish," she told the two, "we'll have to feed those gentlemen salt pork and poke salad!"

  Esme tried desperately to get everything perfect, but the afternoon went by quickly. And perfect was not easy.

  The mushrooms she'd picked the night before had gotten damp and turned a very unappetizing black. And the mussels had a peculiar odor that Esme found somewhat

  worrisome. The yeast rolls stubbornly refused to rise, so Esme was forced to mix up baking soda biscuits. And she could hardly glance at the "chamber pot" chafing dish without losing her own appetite.

  By the time Esme finally was certain that perhaps she would have something to serve, the gentlemen had already returned to the house to dress for dinner.

  Rushing upstairs, she prayed that she'd have time to whip her tired, flour-coated, sweat-stained body into shape before anyone saw her.

  With all the angels in heaven watching out for her, Esme made it unnoticed to her room and hastily slipped through the door.

  Before she had a moment to offer thanks for her reprieve, two strong arms came around her and Cleavis pulled her tightly into his arms.

  "Cleav!" She startled at the unexpected embrace.

  "You feel so good," he told her, pressing his body closely against hers. "I've been dreaming of holding you in my arms all afternoon."

  Esme raised her head with surprise. "You certainly haven't." She pulled away from him and hurried to the washstand. Gazing dismally at her reflection in the mirror, she hastily poured water into the bowl and began stripping down to her chemise.

  "What do you mean I haven't been dreaming of holding you?" Cleav asked her.

  Esme found a towel and turned to give her husband a tolerant grin. "You've been hoping those men would come to Vader all summer. I venture to say you haven't had a thought of anything else in a week."

  Raising an eyebrow, Cleav looked at her skeptically. "I beg to differ, dear wife," he said. "I have been excited about finally having someone with whom to discuss trout breeding," he admitted. "But it's you, Hillbaby, who've had nothing on your mind but this visit since the moment I told you about it."

  "Well, it's very important," Esme said. She was scrubbing her face and neck now, removing every vestige of her long day in front of a hot stove.

  "Important?" Cleav's expression was openly curious. "Pleasant is a correct word, I'd think," he said. "Even interesting, but important? This visit is not important."

  "Well, it's not important in that sense," Esme agreed. "But it's important to you, so I want to make a good impression."

  Cleav chuckled out loud. "I can't imagine how any gentleman could be other than favorably impressed," he said, stepping up behind her to wrap his arms tightly about her waist.

  Pressing a gentle nip-kiss into the crook of her neck, he said, "I don't want the gentlemen too impressed, however, so keep those pretty legs of yours decently hidden."

  Esme paled and jerked away from him, her expression hurt, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Of course I would never shame you like that, Cleavis," she said quickly. "Surely you trust me not to make a spectacle of myself."

  "Esme? What's wrong?" he asked her. "I was joking with you, of course."

  He reached out to run a comforting hand along her arm. "What is it?" he questioned curiously. "Are you ill?"

  "No, no, I'm fine," she answered, trying to regain her composure.

  "You are not fine," Cleav said firmly. "Something is very wrong and has been for the last several days."

  Esme shook away his concern hastily. "I'm just worried about the evening," she said. "Would you mind looking in on the preparations, the dishes and linens and such?"

  "If you want me to," Cleav said.

  "I'd just like for you to make sure that I've chosen everything correctly," she said. "The salt cellar and spoons don't match the celery vase. I don't know if that will do."

  "Esme? What—" he began.

  "Please," she interrupted. "I need to dress or I'm going to be very rudely late. Could you please have a look at the table, just to make sure that everything is proper and appropriate?"

  Cleav agreed with a nod and headed toward the door. With his hand on the brass knob, he turned back to look at his wife. Esme scurried around nervously through her toilet.

  "Proper and appropriate?" he whispered to himself. With a shrug that lacked understanding, he headed downstairs.

  "So you've been living in these mountains all your life, Miss Crabb?"

  It was the blond gentleman's question that caught Esme's attention as she stepped into the front parlor.

  "Oh, please call me Miss Agrippa," the pretty magpie replied with a chirpy twitter. "Miss Crabb sounds like an old maid schoolteacher."

  The gentleman's pale face flushed with bright color and his eyes seemed glued to the vision in blue before him.

  "No one could ever mistake you for such," he told her. "And because you've given me such honor, I must implore you to call me Theodatus."

  "Oh, Mr. Simmons," she teased. "I should never do that."

  "Oh, please, Miss Agrippa," he said. "I'll go down on my knee to beg if necessary."

  Agrippa giggled. "You'd best not be doing that," she warned. "Pa's liable to get all kinds of strange ideas about it."

  Simmons laughed gleefully, as if the young woman's comment were funny.

  "Esme, dear." Cleav captured the attention of the room as he acknowledged his bride.

  Standing beside the mantel, Cleav looked the part of the relaxed gentleman at leisure. The two young men stood, also, brandy glasses in hand. Yohan was seated on the divan with Mrs. Rhy, both passing occasional knowing looks. The twins were seated in identical fireplace chairs as if posing for an artist's portrait.

  "Gentlemen," he said, addressing the two city fellows. "Although I made introductions this morning, I know you have hardly had a moment to greet my wife, Esmeralda."

  Bespectacled Westbrook grasped her hand immediately and bent over it.

  "It is truly a delight to meet you, Mrs. Rhy," he said.

  Simmons stepped up and took his turn. "Yes, it is a pleasure," he agreed. "Your husband brags incessantly about your knowledge and interest in trout breeding. Ben and I have both been positively virescent with envy at his good fortune in finding a wife who shares his interest."

  "How could she not be interested?" Adelaide piped in with a hasty glance toward dark-haired Westbrook in the thick gold-rimmed spectacles. "Trout are such fascinating creatures, I swear I can hardly hear enough about them."

  Eula Rhy nearly choked on her lemonade.

  "Oh, really?" Westbrook bit the bait, turning to examine the pretty twin in pink more closely.

  "Oh, yes," Agrippa agreed with her sister. "We just love to hear that fish talk."

  Cleav barely managed to hide his grin as he took Esme's arm and led the conversation into the direction closest to everyone's heart—fish breeding.

  Esme hardly heard a word that was said. Her mind kept tumbling over lists. What to say, what to do, how to act, how to think, and dinner. Dinner!

  "Esme?" Cleav asked curiously as she hastily pulled away from him.

  "I must check the food," she said and managed an extraordinarily polite request to be momentarily excused.

  The okra was slightly scorched and the corn not quite done, but the fish smelled very good, and Esme swallowed down the nausea as she carefully spooned it into the "chamber pot."

  She checked everything at the table four times before deciding that she could safely invite the honored guests into the room.

  "We descend to dinner," she whispered to herself. It sounded funny to her ears and she tried again. "We descend to dinner." That wasn't much better. "We descend to dinner."
>
  She nodded approvingly to herself. That was undoubtedly it.

  Stepping quietly across the foyer to the front parlor, she stopped formally at the threshold.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," she spoke up distinctly, "we defend the dinner."

  The twins looked up puzzled.

  "Defend it from what?" Adelaide asked.

  "It's time to eat," Cleav announced quickly. "Theo, why don't you escort Miss Agrippa."

  Esme's face was bright red as her husband reached her side. "It smells wonderful, Hillbaby," he whispered. "And the dining room never looked prettier."

  Esme nodded but couldn't quite shake the embarrassment of her foolish misquote.

  Directing the gentlemen to their places, Esme regained some of her composure as she ignored dagger looks from the twins, who found themselves seated next to Eula and Pa rather than the gentlemen.

  "This is certainly beautiful country. These peaks clearly take one's breath away," Theo offered politely. "Even my own Massachusetts, doesn't compare."

  "It's all we've ever known," Cleav explained easily. "I spent a few years in Knoxville, but the mountains are the mountains."

  "I ain't never been nowhere," Yohan stated with matter- of-fact evenness. "But ain't never been nowhere I've wanted to go."

  "That's understandable," Theo acknowledged.

  "Are you a farmer, Mr. Crabb?" Ben Westbrook asked.

  An unexpected hush fell over the group.

  Esme held her breath.

  What would her father say? What could he say? I'm the laziest man in Vader, Tennessee?

  "I don't farm much," he answered honestly. "I play the fiddle."

  "Oh, really?" Westbrook's expression broke into a delighted smile. "My grandfather was a musician," he said. "He played the French horn with the Philadelphia symphony for twenty years."

  "What else did he do?" Adelaide asked.

  "What else? Why, nothing. He was a musician."

  The twins shared a delighted glance before Agrippa said firmly, "That's what Pa is. He's the best musician in this part of Tennessee."

  There were smiles and nods as Yohan half-heartedly attempted to dispute the compliment.

  "I wondered if you were from a musical family, Mr. Crabb," Theo told him. "With a name like Johann, a man should definitely be involved in magical blending of tones and rhythms."