“ ’Tis up to you, Carmen.”
Carmen shook her head. “It’s too dry and warm today to do that. We’d run the risk of losing them. It would be a shame to pluck up a flower, only to make it so it won’t survive.”
Jenny made a wry face.
“You’re unhappy with my decision?” Carmen gave Jenny a surprised look.
“The only thing I’ve ever seen dry out in a wheelbarrow is a man. At the saloon, they’d dump a drunk into the wheelbarrow and push it over by the ditch.”
Carmen’s eyes widened.
“Oh, they did that so when he woke up and puked, no one would have to clean up the mess.”
“They treated a man like that?” Carmen’s voice sounded both sad and outraged.
Jenny shrugged. “A real man can hold his liquor.”
“A real man doesna need liquor a-tall,” Duncan said. “But any man who’s weak enough to drink to that kind of excess still deserves better than to be treated like refuse.”
Jenny’s mouth twisted wryly. “Neither of you have ever had to mop up after a drunken fool.”
“I far prefer having flowers in your wheelbarrow, Duncan.”
Duncan flashed Carmen a smile. She’d bent the conversation away from Jenny’s unfortunate past and back to something pleasant. Admiration for her diplomacy filled him. He nodded. “Flowers and ladies on a beautiful day are definitely to my taste.” He managed to steer them all back toward the route he’d chosen.
At one point, an almost two-foot-wide crack in the ground broke the path. Duncan knew it was there, and he’d intentionally led them toward the rift. It provided an excuse for him to cup Carmen’s waist and lift her.
“You ladies wait a moment whilst I get the wheelbarrow over there. If the edges here take a mind to crumble, I’d rather it not be under your feet.” Proud of that excuse, Duncan made short work of hefting the flower-filled wheelbarrow over to the other side. Straddling the divide, he reached for Jenny first. That way, Carmen wouldn’t feel as if he was making allowances for the insignificant problem she strove so hard to deny.
“You’re so strong!” Jenny cooed at him as he swung the big-boned lass over the divide.
“Compared to the things he hauled when they built their house, you weigh nothing at all.” Carmen smiled as she vouched so casually for his strength.
Her praise meant a lot to him, but the fact that she’d been watching him gave Duncan a glimmer of hope. Maybe the attraction was mutual after all. “I’m ready for you now, Carmen.” And not just to lift you across this. He slowly cupped her waist and made sure he had a secure hold.
Unlike Jenny, who’d rested her hands on his shoulders, Carmen carefully rested her hands on his upper arms. The shyness in her beautiful brown eyes beguiled him. She was normally confident and saucy, so he’d not seen this side of her. Give me time, lass. I’ll show you just how lovely you are and that you can entrust yourself to me entirely.
“Is something wrong?” Embarrassment colored her whisper.
“Not a bit.” Duncan grinned. “I was appreciating your perfume. It’s a tad spicy—like you.”
“I like it,” Jenny said.
“Aye, as do I.” Duncan lifted Carmen. He would be content to stay there the whole day, holding her and inhaling her scent. Instead, he set her down by Jenny and waited a second to be sure she was steady before releasing his hold.
By the time Duncan returned to his workshop that afternoon, he couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. Aye, he’d set his heart on that black-haired, brown-eyed woman, and courting her was going to be pure delight.
“Holes?” Carmen glanced at her windows in consternation. “I didn’t notice any.”
“Aye, a close look at the screens will tell you I’m right.” Duncan clomped across her veranda and pointed at a few spots. “They’re wee small holes yet, but that’s when we need to catch the problem. If they get any larger, you’ll be plagued with flies in the house.”
“Thank you for pointing that out. I think I have a scrap of screening material somewhere.”
“A scrap willna do.”
Carmen gave him a patient look. “I can sew little patches if the holes are tiny.”
“That brings to mind the verse about not putting new wine in old wineskins.”
Carmen noticed Jenny’s perplexed expression and made a mental note to explain the biblical verse to her later. “Wineskins are different. A more accurate analogy would be resoling a pair of boots.” Pleased that she’d countered his assertion with something Duncan would relate to so well, Carmen gave him a smile.
Duncan’s brows rose. “I’d not recommend resoling boots that dinna have enough life left in them to make it worthwhile.”
“How old are your screens?” Jenny poked her finger at the screen door. It went straight through and left a jagged little tear. “Oh, I’m sorry!”
“There you have it.” Duncan nodded. “They’re all wanting replacement.”
Otto was busy on the farm. Carmen knew he couldn’t afford the time to accomplish the job. “I’ll decide which ones are the worst and ask Otto to do one a week.”
“Ooch, lass. And why would you be doing that when I’m willin’ to get the job done now?”
“You’re a busy man, Duncan.”
“Not too busy to help out a neighbor. I’ll do your screen door first, here on your porch, so you’ll still be able to catch a breeze for the rest of the day. Elsewise, your house will be miserable as the inside of an oven.”
“You’ve already done so much, Duncan. You turned the soil for our garden and helped us get the flowers.”
“Dinna forget that I helped myself to some worms to bait my hook and caught several fish. Aye, and I had the joy of your fine company for a stroll the day we gathered flowers.”
“You shared the fish.” Jenny pointed out.
“Aye, but then you ladies shared your flower seeds with Mercy. She wept for joy when she discovered you’d started a garden for her.”
“Elspeth keeps her so busy, we knew Mercy wouldn’t have an opportunity to plant flowers.” Carmen turned to Jenny. “Isn’t that so, Jenny?”
Jenny nodded. “Carmen and I had fun planning where to put each flower.”
“And you turned the soil so the ground would be ready, Duncan. You were every bit as much involved in the project.”
“I just finished making that saddle for Mr. Stuky. This is a good time for me to take on doing your screens. I dinna like to start a new pair of shoes or a saddle when I’ll have to skip working the next day.”
“Oh.” Jenny’s voice went flat. “Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“So there you have it.” Duncan folded his arms across his chest as if he’d won an important debate.
“What do I have?” Jenny glowered at him.
“You hae the reason why you ladies ought to accompany me to the mercantile. We’ll get the screening so I can fix Carmen’s windows by sunset.”
“It’s been three days since we went to the mercantile, Jenny,” Carmen remarked. “Those things you ordered are probably in by now.”
Jenny wilted into a wicker chair. “Could you pick them up for me? I’m hot and tired.”
“Sure we could.” Duncan spoke before Carmen could insist Jenny come along.
On their walk to the mercantile, Carmen tried to think of a way to broach the delicate topic. Several different phrases occurred to her, but she dismissed them.
“You’re quiet as can be.”
She sighed. “It’s Jenny.”
Duncan stopped. “If things are strained, I’ll hae Rob find a different place for her.”
“No, no. She’s not been here a full week yet. Settling in will take time.”
“You’re dillydallying around. Why dinna ye just say what needs to be said?”
Heat tingled in her cheeks. “It’s not that easy.”
Duncan tilted her face to his and spoke in a low, soothing tone. “We’re friends, Carmen Rodriguez. We’re trying to help a lass w
ho’s got a dark past and a difficult future. You’re a cultured woman. I ken there are matters not normally discussed between a lady and a man, but this isna a normal situation. Troubling yourself over finding the proper words is silly. I’ll not think less of you for doing what’s necessary to help Jenny. Deep down, she’s a sweet lass, and I’m wanting to help her, too. Speak to me from your heart.”
His earnest words helped. Carmen blurted out, “Jenny doesn’t want to go to church. She didn’t even want to go to the mercantile the other day. Once people understand what she is, she’s sure they’ll shun her.”
“Mmmm.” Duncan stretched out the sound. “I see.”
“Remember how long it took for everyone to face Mercy once her tragedy happened?”
“Aye. ’Twas a harsh time for her. Once we stood firm on her side, folks came around. We’ll do the same for Jenny.”
“There’s a difference between their cases. Mercy was innocent.”
“True.” Duncan let out a long sigh. “Times like today, when I mentioned the wineskins, she’s baffled. From what I gather, she’s not a believer. We canna expect her to hae walked the straight and narrow path when she wasna shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace nor protected with the shield of faith.”
“Ephesians six,” Carmen murmured. He did that—slipped biblical references into his conversation. Often, it was so seamless anyone who wasn’t steeped in the Scriptures would miss it.
“Exactly. ’Tis wrong to judge others. No one makes it to the Lord by good deeds or based on the opinions of others. ’Tis grace through the blood of Christ Jesus that redeems us. I’m thinkin’ ’twill be our example of grace and love that will woo Jenny to the Lord. If others judge her, they’ll be accountable to Him.”
“So there will be the Gregors and me.”
“To start with.” Duncan began to walk again. “But just as surely as God can do a work in Jenny’s heart, He can supply compassion to others so they can show it to her.”
“As long as we’re talking, Duncan, I may as well confess another worry to you.”
“You can always share your worries with me.”
She gave him an appreciative look. Duncan wasn’t a glib man. He spoke directly and from the heart. That invitation wasn’t just a platitude. He’d meant what he said. “Remember when Otto’s mother dragged that awful man into my house so he could beg Mercy for her baby? It didn’t occur to me until yesterday that once Mrs. Kunstler comes to church tomorrow and finds out about Jenny staying with me, she’ll bring that man back again.”
“We’ve discussed that at home. Mercy received a letter from Chester Heim that same week. He apologized and sought forgiveness. He and his wife are so verra eager to hae a bairn to call their own. In thinkin’ back, Mercy said he’d implored her to gie them the babe, but ’twas actually Mrs. Kunstler who’d spoken the harshest words.”
“Since Ismelda married Otto, Mrs. Kunstler is family, and she is my elder. Part of me says I owe her respect, no matter what. On the other hand, I feel if she dares to say anything, I’ll lose my temper. So what do I do?”
“Just as you came to fetch Rob last time, you can always run to us for help. Neither Rob nor Mercy thinks Chester Heim will trouble Jenny. Though ’tis true Mrs. Kunstler is kin to you since Ismelda wed her son, I’m not mincing words. I think it best if ever she comes to pay a call that you instruct Jenny to come help Mercy.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
They’d arrived at the mercantile. Before he opened the door, Duncan gazed at her intently. “Dinna forget, Carmen, I intend to be your partner.”
Partner. Such an odd word. It suggested both a union of minds and a distance of hearts. All at once, Carmen felt supported and yet very, very alone.
Chapter 8
Ooch, Carmen, you’re looking grand today.”
A blush filled her cheeks. “Thank you. Wait till you see Jenny. She’s wearing her new dress.”
Duncan nodded and winked. Carmen made for a good partner in this project. By mentioning Jenny’s gown, he’d have something to praise her over so she wouldn’t fret as much while they walked to church. The church bell began to toll. “Best we get started.”
Once Jenny stepped onto the veranda, he mused, “I’m not a man who knows much about posies, other than to say they’re charming wee things. But your gown—’tis the same shade as those bachelor buttons in the garden.”
“Leave it to a man to know the name of a flower named bachelor.” Carmen laughed as she shut the door.
Duncan escorted the women down the street. Jenny held tightly to his arm, giving away the fragile state of her nerves. “Elspeth kept Rob and Mercy up half the night. They’re going to sit in the back pew. I hope you dinna mind sitting with me today.”
“We’d be happy to. Wouldn’t we, Jenny?”
“Yes.”
Duncan ignored how she sounded as if she’d rather have Rob pull all her teeth than attend worship. “Mercy directed me to invite you both to lunch.”
“You just said she was up half the night.” Carmen frowned. “Maybe some other Sunday.”
Duncan intentionally waited until the church bell rang so Jenny wouldn’t get mobbed by everyone and feel overwhelmed. Even then, as they reached the church door, Carmen found it necessary to introduce Jenny to a few people.
As they sat in the sanctuary, Duncan stared at the cross behind the pulpit. Lord, ’tis good to be in Your house again. Teach me what Ye would hae me know, and if it be Your will, begin to prepare Carmen’s heart so she’ll become my bride. Most of all, Lord, open Jenny’s soul to Your salvation. Blind her to any unkindness and grant others a special love for her so she can see the difference Ye make. Amen.
The sermon was about the woman at the well. The pastor kept echoing Christ’s admonition, “Go and sin no more.” He applied the concept to the sins, great and small, that are so common to man. Duncan considered the sermon outstanding.
It wasn’t until he escorted Carmen and Jenny back to the Rodriquez house that Jenny finally spoke. “I don’t want to go back. Ever. I know it’s part of the arrangement, but can’t we change it?”
“What was so bad?” Carmen sat beside her.
“He told that story just because I was there. Why didn’t he just point his finger at me and tell them all I’m a—”
“Sinner, just like the rest of us?” Duncan cut in strategically. “I venture to say everyone is probably sitting at home thinkin’ the parson’s been spying on them. Impatience. Gluttony. Greed. Gossip.”
Some of the tension in Jenny’s shoulders eased. “He did say those things, too.”
“The Bible says we’ve all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory.” Duncan met Jenny’s troubled gaze and confessed, “I can only speak for myself, but I cringe and squirm inside when those dark things are brought to light, because I know I have room to improve.”
“Me, too.” Carmen took Jenny’s hand in hers. “I’m guilty of vanity.”
Duncan didn’t breathe a word, but he thought Carmen had plenty to be proud of. No other woman on earth was half as pretty. Her eyes were aglow with intelligence, and her skin matched the shade of sun-warmed honey. The lively chatter and laughter bubbling from her lips lifted a man’s spirits, and, despite her limp, the woman carried herself like a queen.
“You’re not vain,” Jenny objected.
“Oh, but I am. I’m crippled and I limp. If I used a cane, I’d be more stable, but I won’t because I’m vain. Proud, too.”
“What the parson said was the most important thing, Jenny.” Duncan looked at her. “Jesus Christ didna stand there and condemn that woman. He forgave her and told her to start anew. What’s done is done. He instructed her to change her ways and do better.”
Jenny didn’t look the least bit convinced. “I went to church. I don’t want to think about any of that stuff until I have to go again next week.”
“But you will go.” Carmen’s voice rang with authority.
“Aye.
And I’d be honored to escort the both of you.”
“Duncan!” Mercy’s alarmed voice wavered in the air.
Duncan bolted out of his shop and toward the house. “Aye?”
Mercy held Elspeth over her shoulder and shouted, “The sky’s gone green!”
He halted. “So it is. An ugly—”
“Hurry and fetch Carmen and Jenny. This is tornado weather!”
He needed no further urging. Duncan raced across the street. Without bothering to knock, he burst right in. “Come along now.”
Carmen held Jenny’s wrist and was dragging her into the hall. Jenny cried out, “I thought tornadoes didn’t strike here!”
“I’ve seen a few,” Carmen said. “The safest place—”
“Isna here. You’re coming home with me. We’ve a large basement. I’ll keep you safe.”
Carmen turned loose of Jenny, and Duncan felt a spurt of relief. She was being practical and cooperative. At least she was until she turned into a room.
“Woman!” he bellowed.
Carmen ignored him, so he chased after her. A man had no business being in a woman’s bedchamber, but Duncan figured survival rated above etiquette. He’d never seen a tornado, but from what he’d heard, no one tangled with one and came out the victor. Knowing Carmen was in danger sent him blustering into her room. She eluded him by ducking under his arm and called, “Jenny! Go with Duncan. I’ll be right behind you!”
“This is absurd. We’re leavin’ this verra minute.”
“Give me a second.” The daft woman swept back the magnificent star-patterned quilt covering her bed and crawled onto the mattress. “Grab that quilt—just in case.”
Duncan didn’t know precisely what she meant, but that didn’t matter, anyway. He grabbed for her. “Woman!”
She half stood on her bed and grabbed a beautiful mahogany and gold crucifix from the wall. “This was Mama’s.”
When Carmen gasped as he cinched his arm about her waist and yanked her down, he declared, “I’m takin’ no chances.”
“Stop blustering and help me gather the quilt for protection.”
The woman was daft as a drunken duck if she thought a quilt was a match for a wind that could knock over a barn. Realizing he’d waste more time arguing with her than in snatching it up, he kept hold of Carmen and grabbed the quilt.
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