“Alford has been gone for a while,” Luke said, hoping Ginny wouldn’t react badly to finding out the truth about Filly’s father.
“Gone where?” Ginny asked, looking from Luke to Filly. They were both behaving oddly, casting each other careful glances.
“Prison.”
Ginny watched Filly fiddle with the letter on her lap, nervously picking at the envelope she had yet to open.
“Did you say prison?” Ginny asked, keeping her voice calm. A million questions rushed through her mind as she sat waiting for Filly or Luke to offer an explanation.
“Yes. My father, well, he um…” Filly struggled to find the right words. “Two years ago, on Christmas Eve, he threatened to shoot Luke and your father, planned to kill me, and ended up shooting the deputy.”
Breath whooshed out of Ginny’s lungs and she sat numbly staring at the other two occupants of the room.
“Chauncy tackled him before he did too much damage, but we all felt it best if he spent some time in jail,” Luke said.
“And no one thought I needed to know that at the time?” Ginny asked, incredulous that the family kept something like that from her.
“You were on your European tour and honestly, you wouldn’t have taken the news well,” Luke said, looking pointedly at his sister.
“True as that may be, someone still should have told me.” Ginny glared at Luke, then looked inquisitively at Filly. “So you grew up here? In Hardman?”
“Yes, I went to school here until my father made me stay home. You were a few years younger than I was. I went by Philamena, then. Philamena Booth.”
“I do remember you, Filly. You were such a pretty girl, even then,” Ginny said, smiling with fond memories of school days. Remembering what a lovely, lively girl Filly had been then, she was surprised she hadn’t made the connection.
“You see, Ginny Lou, Filly’s mother died giving birth when she was just fourteen. Her father couldn’t cope with the loss and held her prisoner on their farm from then until just before I married her. He drank all the time and did things we’d all like to forget. When he realized how close he came to killing Filly, he begged for a second chance. His time in prison sobered him up and when he was released last summer, Chauncy found him a job working as a groundskeeper at a large church in Portland.”
Ginny looked at Filly who nodded her head and brushed at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“We’ve been to see him twice and he’s doing very well,” Filly said, opening the letter and letting the thin pages rest on her lap. “He’s trying so hard to be a good man again.”
Getting to her feet, Ginny hurried to the sofa and wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law. “I’m so sorry, Filly. I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Filly said, hugging Ginny back as they both brushed at tears.
“I was concerned how you would react to the details, Ginny,” Luke said, studying his sister. From all indications, the girl was finally growing up and becoming the person he always knew she could be.
“What did you expect me to do? Think Filly was somehow tainted from her father’s misdeeds? Stare down my nose at her?” Ginny asked, knowing that was exactly how she would have reacted had she known when she first arrived in town. “In case you two have forgotten, I’d have to climb on a chair to do that. Filly’s almost a foot taller than me!”
They all laughed then Filly read them her father’s letter. He described how pretty the church looked with all the Christmas decorations and how much he enjoyed watching the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers. He finished the letter by sending his love and prayers for them all.
“Maybe we can visit him in January. Things are usually slow around town then,” Luke said, smiling at Filly where she and Ginny continued to sit together on the sofa.
“Speaking of visiting, when are Mother and Dad expected to grace us with their presence?” Ginny asked, both looking forward to and dreading seeing her parents. She’d only written them a few times since arriving in Hardman, relying on Luke and Filly to keep in touch with them.
“Dad said they’d be here on the twentieth,” Luke said, hoping his mother was maintaining her kinder, gentler attitude toward life. When she first met Filly, she’d treated his wife like an outcast and said many unkind, hurtful things to her, the least of which was that she thought Luke could have made a much better choice for a spouse and how Filly was wholly unacceptable.
Dora experienced a change of heart the day Alford tried to kill his daughter, though. She took Filly into her arms and heart and from then on referred to her as a daughter.
“Are we ready for Dora?” Ginny asked with a sassy grin, knowing how demanding and trying her mother could be.
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Luke laughed, winking at Filly.
“You two should be ashamed. Dora is trying to… well, to not be so…” Filly said, searching to find the best way to phrase her comment.
“Oh, just tell it like it is. She’s trying really hard to not be like herself,” Ginny said, patting Filly’s hand as she smiled. “Although I must say, the improvements have been wonderful. First, you went to work on mother and now me. In another ten or twenty years, you might even have Luke whipped into shape.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Luke asked, sitting up in his chair and glaring at his sister. “You’re the one who was Mother’s pet project.”
“Don’t I know it,” Ginny said, stifling a yawn. Thinking about working with the youngsters at the church coupled with the impending arrival of her parents made her exhausted. “I have no doubt tomorrow will be a long day, so I’m going to bid you both good night.”
“Night, Ginny. Sweet dreams,” Luke and Filly called as she left the room.
Going to the kitchen for a drink of water, she remembered she wanted to ask Luke something and went back to the parlor. She wasn’t surprised to step in the room to find Filly on Luke’s lap and the two of them involved in a passionate kiss.
Backing quietly out of the room, she grinned to herself as she went down the hall. If her brother, who avoided marriage like the plague up until the moment he decided to wed Filly, could fall so hard and deeply in love, maybe there was hope yet for her.
Chapter Eleven
Rushing home after finishing at the newspaper office, Ginny raced up the back walk and tripped over the dog as he lounged across the top step.
“Bart, you need to find somewhere else to sleep away the day,” Ginny grumbled as she stepped over him and hurried in the back door. Throwing her things down on the table, she asked Filly to pack cookies in a basket for the children while she changed her clothes. Forgetting to stay away from the press while it was running, flecks of ink now dotted both her skirt and blouse.
Grabbing one of her favorite wool gowns, she pulled it on and quickly fastened the pearl buttons decorating the front. Rather than making time to take down her hair and comb it, she snatched a ribbon from a dresser drawer and tied it around the wayward curls that escaped their confines earlier in the day.
Racing back to the kitchen, she donned her coat and hat, yanked on gloves, grabbed a notebook and pencil, then snatched the basket Filly placed on the table as she ran out the door.
Walking briskly down the boardwalk into town, she made it to the church in record time and stood outside the door a moment to catch her breath before going inside and stashing her gloves in her coat pocket.
Walking to the front of the sanctuary, she set the basket and the rest of her things on the front pew. The church was warm, so Ginny knew the pastor had to have been over to stoke the furnace and heat the building. Removing her hat and coat, she heard the school bell ring outside, signaling the end of classes for the day.
Looking around, she noticed Blake had delivered some of the new pews. She knew by Sunday he would have them all replaced.
Stepping up to one, she ran her hand over the smooth wood, admiring his handiwork. Although simple in design, the pews would last for years
and years to come.
Critically studying the front of the church, Ginny could picture a simple set for the program. Maybe one of the parents could help produce one. Luke mentioned they didn’t have any props for the play other than the costumes for the children and a few live animals they brought in for the nativity scene. It seemed someone brought a goat instead of a sheep for the program the previous year and the animal destroyed most all the props in a fit of terror induced by the clapping at the end of the program.
Recalling the year Luke and Chauncy turned mice loose during the Christmas Eve service, she hoped she wouldn’t have any ornery little boys to handle in the group this year. Laughing to herself, she remembered the chaos that erupted after the mice scattered through the church. Her mother was one of the women who jumped on a pew and refused to come down until her father carried her outside.
“I think I missed the joke,” Blake said from directly behind her, making her scream and whirl around to face him.
“My stars! You could scare a body half to death sneaking up like that,” Ginny said, holding her hand to her chest while it beat wildly. She thought its rapid thumping had more to do with Blake than the fact he’d caught her unawares. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Blake said, thinking Ginny looked like a summer flower in her pink gown with rosy cheeks and that head of golden hair. A pink ribbon she’d tied around her head to keep the curls out of her face just made him want to reach out and remove it, along with all her hairpins.
Remembering how beautiful all that hair looked down made his throat so dry he could barely swallow.
“Abby asked me to help with the children’s program,” Ginny said, glaring at Blake. Why did he have to look so altogether appealing?
He wore denim pants, a green shirt that brought out the green flecks in his hazel eyes, and a tan coat that accented the breadth of his shoulders. He smelled of leather, wood shavings and man - an enthralling combination. His hat dangled from long, capable fingers and a bit of sawdust clung to the toe of one boot. Blake was so much more… virile than anyone she’d come across since she’d left Hardman as a girl.
When Blake chuckled and sank down on a pew, shaking his head, she tapped her foot impatiently.
“Chauncy asked me to help with the program as well. Isn’t that interesting?” Blake said, setting down his hat and removing his coat.
Annoyed with Chauncy and Abby for their scheming, she was even more annoyed with herself for being pleased their efforts resulted in Blake spending time with her. She doubted he would have done so otherwise.
“Looks to me like they either really need our help or have decided to get involved in something that isn’t any of their business,” Blake mused, walking to Chauncy’s lectern and picking up the script for the program. Chauncy mentioned he’d leave it there.
“I think we should assume they are busy and truly need the assistance,” Ginny said, noticing Blake was looking through the program. Since there was only one copy, she moved closer to him so she could see the information as well. He held it out so they both could read it and discussed a few details before the children poured in the door, led by Percy Bruner.
“We’re all here, Miss Granger,” Percy announced as the children sat in pews, anxiously awaiting instruction.
“Very well, children,” Ginny said, passing around the basket of cookies as she and Blake learned who participated in the play the previous year and who wanted what part this year.
Making assignments, the children took their roles in the program seriously and set to work learning their parts.
One of the shepherds made it known he preferred to be a wise man and one of the angels burst into tears when the innkeeper pulled her braid, but other than that, the first practice went well.
“Let’s set the next practice for Monday after school. That gives us almost two weeks before the program,” Ginny said, looking to Blake for agreement. He nodded his head and smiled at the youngsters before they ran out the door for their respective homes.
“Perhaps we can practice Mondays and Thursdays,” Ginny suggested as she and Blake tidied up after the children. There was one cookie left, which Blake snatched from the basket and took a bite.
“How do you know I wasn’t saving that one?” Ginny asked, trying to look disapprovingly at him.
He grinned and held the cookie out to her. “Want a bite?”
“Not now that you’ve slobbered all over it,” Ginny said, thinking how much she did in fact want not just a bite of the cookie, but also a taste of Blake’s tempting lips.
“You didn’t seem to mind my slobbers a few weeks ago,” Blake said, giving Ginny a heated look. “Besides, you have access to Filly’s cooking all the time. The rest of us have to take what we can get when it’s available.”
“How do you know Filly made the cookies?” Ginny asked, irritated at her feelings for Blake almost as much as she was by his teasing.
“Because I’ve had her kisses before,” Blake said, brushing the crumbs from his fingers and slipping on his coat.
Quirking an eyebrow at him, Ginny shook her head. “You better not let Luke hear you say that.”
“You know perfectly well I was referring to the cookies. I like them best when she adds in coconut.”
Ginny continued to look at him with a calculating stare. He picked up her coat and helped her put it on then politely waited while she fastened the hat on her head, pulled on her gloves and gathered her things.
“Will Saturday morning about nine work for you?” Blake asked as they walked to the door.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Ginny asked, stopping to glare at him again, confused. She did not intend to see him Saturday.
“If we’re going to get props ready in time for the program, I can’t do it all myself. Come to my workshop Saturday morning and we’ll work on it. Ask Luke and Filly to join us if you like,” Blake said, standing at the door waiting for her to move from her position several feet away.
As much as she hated to admit it, they did need some props and Blake was the likely candidate to build them. How did she let Abby talk her into this? Shaking her head, she marched up to Blake. “Fine, I’ll be there Saturday, but you better have everything ready to go and not plan on dilly-dallying around. I’ll see if Luke and Filly will come, too.”
“I’ll provide lunch, in thanks for the great sacrifice of your time and contribution of your efforts,” Blake said, pleased at how easily he’d convinced Ginny to go along with his plans. Despite his head telling him to stay far away from the beautiful woman, his heart urged him to draw closer. After their fight Thanksgiving Day, he had plenty of time to replay every word from that painful conversation. He realized they both still had feelings, deep feelings, for each other.
His heart knew down in its depths that Ginny cared more than she was willing to admit. Given enough time and opportunity, he hoped she’d fall in love with him again. Only this time as a woman falls in love with a man.
“If that is an enticement you use to woo women to your workshop, you might endeavor to apply a different approach,” Ginny said, a cheeky smile on her face as she started out the door.
“Does this work better?” Blake asked, reaching out and grabbing her arm before she stepped outside. He licked her cheek and laughed at the appalled expression on her face before pushing her outside and shutting the door behind them. Settling his hat on his head, he gave her a devilish grin. “Perhaps you’d rather have my slobbers after all.”
Furiously wiping at her cheek, Ginny bit her lip to keep from grinning. Blake was as fun and playful as he’d been as a boy and she loved receiving his attention, even if it was slobbers on her cheek. Watching him walk around the corner, whistling what sounded like God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, she couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe she still had a chance at winning back his heart.
Walking home with a lively step, she’d barely closed the kitchen door when Erin grabbed h
er around the knees, hugging her tightly.
“Hi, Ginny!” Erin said, looking up at her with a happy grin.
“Hello, Erin. Where are you going?” Ginny asked, noticing Erin wore her coat and had mittens on her hands. She forgot Filly watched the little girl all day. She must have been napping when Ginny made her whirlwind trip home to change her clothes.
Filly hurried into the kitchen, looking flushed and tired. “How was practice?” she asked, tugging a knit cap over Erin’s curls and tickling the little girl beneath the chin.
“Fine,” Ginny said, grinning at Erin’s giggles. “I can take her home since I’m already dressed for the outdoors, if you like.”
“That would be so helpful and very much appreciated,” Filly said, wrapping a scarf around Erin’s neck then kissing her rosy little cheek. “Ginny’s going to take you home, Erin. But I’ll see you at church Sunday, if not sooner. Okay, honey?”
“Yep,” Erin said, hugging Filly one last time. “Wuv you, Aunt Fiwwy.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart,” Filly said, waving as Ginny took Erin’s hand and helped her down the steps.
“Did you have a good time with Aunt Filly today?” Ginny asked as Bart walked beside them, trying to lick Erin’s face as they strolled along. Glaring at the dog, he ignored her silent reprimand and looked at her with a lopsided doggy grin, continuing to saunter next to the child. The hand Ginny wasn’t holding ended up entwining itself in the dog’s fur.
“Yep. I make cookies for Unca Wuke,” Erin said, dragging the toes of her boots in the snow.
“You did? What kind did you make?” Ginny asked, fighting the urge to pick up the child and rush her home. She knew the fresh air was good for the little one, as well as the walk home.
“Wasses kind.”
“Molasses?” Ginny tugged gently on Erin’s hand when the child stopped to stare into a mud puddle on the street. As quick as the little imp could be, it would only take a second for her to jump in the puddle and start splashing.
“Yep, wasses. Unca Wuke wikes dem.”
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