Wishing on Buttercups

by Miralee Ferrell

  There was so much she’d never fully remembered before. The Arapaho warrior who had found her had always been a shadowy, dark figure plucking her out of the ashes. Memories of the Arapaho family who’d cared for her continued to emerge, but she’d managed to block the pain that accompanied that time. The child she’d drawn who had fallen into the fire was her. Beth had known that but hadn’t wanted to face it. She had worked years to forget.

  She wanted her mother. A rush of memories almost suffocated her. Tender hands had smoothed her hair, and a sweet tone lulled her to sleep. A laughing voice played games, whispering things into her ear that made her giggle. Mama had loved her at one time, so why had she left her behind? Papa—he was more of a hazy figure, a man who worked all the time and didn’t give many hugs. Had he been the reason her family abandoned her? Beth strove to remember. There was someone else—someone on the outer edge of her memory. She couldn’t quite pull the image back to where she could see it.

  Another thought struck her with an almost physical blow. From the little she remembered, her mother had cared, and it was hard to believe she would abandon her child. Perhaps they had all died. If sickness took them while traveling west, it was possible no one on the train wanted to keep her. Deep inside she had known that might be the case but hadn’t wanted to face it. If she had been abandoned, at least there was the chance someone in her family might experience regret and still want to find her, all these years later. If they were dead, no hope remained.

  Beth drove herself deeper into her pillow, determined to forget and go back to sleep. Too many years had passed. Somehow she must move on and make a new life, accepting the fact she would never have the answers she longed for. She clamped her teeth together. She’d cried enough tears in the past and wouldn’t do so again. Aunt Wilma loved her, and that had to suffice.

  As she drifted into the haze of near sleep, a soft voice somewhere in the distance spoke. “Trust Me; walk in My path, and I’ll show you the way.” That voice again. The same one she’d heard weeks ago. It must be God; Beth knew that with a certainty now, although she had no idea why He deigned to speak to her. She had resisted Him over the years, but He persisted. Gently. Sweetly. Pulling her into the warm circle of His embrace. Trying to persuade her to accept … something. She had yet to understand what.

  She rolled onto her side, and the fingers of peace cradled her. Maybe God had heard her in spite of everything.

  Wilma raised her head from her reading and listened to the voices in the nearby foyer. Katherine Jacobs’s words were distinct, but the low rumble of a man’s response was unintelligible. Something in the timbre sent a pleasurable tremor through Wilma’s body.

  Frances swept into the parlor, clutching her skirt off the floor and walking with a faster step than Wilma had seen in days. “There is a very handsome man in the parlor asking for you. I did not catch his name, but I heard him inquire after Mrs. Roberts.” She cocked her head to the side. “Are you keeping a secret from us, Wilma?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Wilma felt like a hen holding an attacking predator at bay. What was Frances going on about this time? “I am not hiding anything, Frances, and I do not appreciate you accusing me of doing so. Now what is this foolishness about a man asking for me?”

  “It is not foolishness. My goodness, you certainly are in a dither this morning. If you are not careful, you will give yourself heart palpitations.”

  “Humph.” Wilma scowled. No one but Frances could get her feathers ruffled to this degree.

  Katherine stepped into the room, her eyes alight. “Mrs. Roberts. I wasn’t sure if you were in or not. There’s a gentleman caller waiting for you in the foyer.”

  Frances smirked. “What did I tell you, Wilma?”

  Wilma rose to her feet, uncertainty increasing her heart rate. “Is he young? Black hair and dark eyes? Dressed like a gambler or some other no-account scoundrel?”

  A man’s laughter echoed from the doorway of the room. “No. He’s old, has white hair and blue eyes, and dresses like a modestly retired doctor.”

  Pure joy spun through Wilma. “Caleb!” She stood frozen to the floor in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that the only greeting you have for an old friend?” He opened his arms wide and moved toward her.

  Wilma didn’t hesitate. She didn’t give a fig that Frances and Katherine both looked on. She flew into his arms and sighed as he enveloped her in a warm hug. How long had it been since she’d seen this man? At least a year, but she couldn’t remember exactly. She drew back and inspected him. The same twinkle, the same bushy brows and tousled hair, but silver instead of the darker gray edges she remembered. Yet it suited him. As did the mustache he sported above his smiling mouth. “You look wonderful.”

  “As do you.” He gave her one last gentle squeeze, then drew back, surveying the two gaping women nearby. “Now why don’t you introduce me to these lovely ladies?”

  Wilma felt color rise to her cheeks as she took in Frances’s knowing look. She’d never hear the end of the way she’d greeted Caleb. “Certainly. Dr. Caleb Marshall, please meet my landlady, Katherine Jacobs, and her mother, Frances Cooper. Frances is a friend and one I value highly.” She stifled a smile. Maybe the compliment would soften the inquisition she was certain to receive once they were alone. “Caleb is an old friend of the family. He and my husband practiced medicine together for several years.”

  He took Frances’s hand in his and bowed over it, giving her a warm smile, then repeated the gesture with Katherine. “I am delighted to meet you both.” He turned to Katherine. “Might you have a small room tucked away under the eaves that you’re willing to rent for a week or two?”

  Wilma beamed. “You’re staying? How lovely. Please, Caleb, tell us what brought you to the Oregon Territory? In your last letter you said—”

  He held up his hand, and his expression sobered. “Let’s talk about that later, shall we?”

  Frances’s brows rose.

  “Of course, Caleb.” Wilma sensed her friend honing in on every word the doctor spoke like a prairie hawk hot on the trail of a mouse. She shot Frances an imploring look, praying she wouldn’t ask questions. How thoughtless to ask Caleb for details in front of the others. It must concern Beth. She couldn’t imagine him coming all this way for enjoyment. And certainly he wouldn’t have come only to see her.… Her heart beat a little faster at the possibility. Still, he’d been her husband’s business partner and a dear friend, nothing more.

  Katherine gestured toward the stairs. “I do have a room, Dr. Marshall. I assume you must be tired after your long trip. Would you care to go up straightaway and freshen up or rest? Do you have bags that need to be brought in?”

  He nodded. “They’re at the stage station. I asked the agent to hold everything until I could notify him where to deliver it. I wasn’t certain I’d find Wilma here, or that you’d have room for another boarder. Actually, I would love to take a walk and stretch my legs after days of sitting.” He held out his arm to Wilma. “Would you care to accompany me?”

  “Very much. Let me get my wrap from my room and tell Beth I’m leaving.” Wilma hurried toward the stairs. If only she could have whisked Caleb away from Frances’s prying questions.

  She stopped at her room to gather her wrap, then tapped on Beth’s door and poked her head inside. Her niece sat hunched over her desk, pencil in hand. “Beth, dear, an old friend has arrived, and I’m going out for a walk. I may be gone for an hour or two.”

  Beth turned to face her. “Is it someone I know?”

  Wilma hesitated, torn between telling her the full truth and setting her to worrying about why he’d come. “He’s a business associate of your uncle’s.” She nodded at the desk. “It looks like you’re busy with your work.”

  “Yes, but I might take a walk as well. I’ve been sitting too long and dearly need to stretch.” She laid down her pencil a
nd rubbed her neck.

  “Oh.” Wilma started at the words. She couldn’t invite Beth along when she wasn’t sure what brought Caleb to Baker City. “Where were you thinking of going? The recent rain has made it too wet to sit on your hillside.”

  “No, I was thinking of going to town and visiting a shop or two.” Beth didn’t quite meet Wilma’s eyes. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “I see.” Wilma didn’t care for the hesitation in Beth’s reply, but she was in no position to pursue it, since she didn’t want to reveal all of her motives either. “Have a good time, then, and I’ll see you at supper.” She backed out of the room. Somehow she must get Caleb away from the house before Beth caught up with them. Almost racing down the hall, she caught herself and slowed. No need to give Frances something more to question later.

  She walked sedately into the room and smiled. “I’m ready if you are, Caleb.”

  Frances cocked an eyebrow. “I am disappointed. I was visiting with Dr. Marshall.”

  Wilma’s heart lurched. She slipped her hand through Caleb’s arm. “We’ll have plenty of time to chat when we return. We should go while we still have good light.” She didn’t want to pull the man’s arm off, but urgency forced her out the door and down the steps so fast she almost tripped.

  “What’s the hurry, Wilma?” Caleb panted beside her as she struck off along the path leading toward the hillside Beth enjoyed. “I wanted a walk, not a race.”

  She slowed as they rounded the corner. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m anxious to hear what brought you to town.” Squeezing his arm, she mustered her best smile. “And, I have to admit, getting you away from Frances Cooper was high on my list as well.”

  Jeffery fingered the envelope stuffed in his pocket and scowled. He’d been traipsing up and down the streets of this town for the last half hour. With all that had been going on at the house lately, he hadn’t thought about picking up his mail for days. He sidestepped a woman carrying a baby and tipped his hat. “I beg your pardon, ma’am.” Better keep his mind on where he was going before he knocked someone over.

  He wanted to head straight to the house to find Beth. Having a friend in town hadn’t been important when he first arrived, but lately the need pressed in on him with more force. His attempts to know Beth better seemed thwarted at every turn. Right when he’d hoped they might find common ground in their work, Brent Wentworth appeared. What was the man to her, anyway? An old friend or a beau perhaps? He prayed the man was visiting and would disappear as abruptly as he’d come.

  The fragrance of chocolate made his mouth water, and he backed up, pausing outside the open door of a candy shop. It had been months since he’d tasted chocolate. He jingled the coins in his trouser pocket and grinned. Maybe he’d buy a few and see if Beth cared for a piece. Most women seemed to love the dark-colored candy and considered it a rare treat. He sauntered into the store, stopping before a glass case.

  “May I help you, sir?” An attractive young woman with blond hair piled on top of her head gave him a bright smile.

  “Uh, yes, thank you.” He pointed at a stack of round-topped chocolate. “What are those?”

  “Chocolate with coconut centers. My favorite.” She giggled and picked up a set of tongs. “Would you care to try one?”

  Jeffery’s mouth watered, but he shook his head. “No. But I’ll take a dozen, if you please.”

  She gave a coy smile. “Buying them for yourself, or someone special?”

  Annoyance made his words sharper than he’d planned. “Both. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

  After wrapping the candy in brown paper, she tied it with a string and slid it across the counter. “That will be three bits, please.”

  He pulled out some coins and laid them on the counter. “Thank you and good day.” As much as he was tempted to unwrap the package and try a piece, he’d sacrifice.

  Hurrying down the boardwalk, he dodged pedestrians, anxious to return to the house. Surely Beth wasn’t interested in Wentworth to any degree. More than likely the man was an old friend passing through the area wanting to renew his acquaintance. He could have misconstrued the man’s actions—after all, Wentworth hadn’t offered to walk Beth home and had delegated the pleasant task to him.

  The door to a small restaurant opened, and he slid to a halt to keep from bumping into the exiting man, who clearly had his mind on the woman beside him rather than where he was going.

  Jeffery started to apologize, then glanced at the woman. “B-Beth?” His heart plummeted to his toes, and he tightened his grip on the package of chocolates.

  She drew to a halt and swiveled toward him, her smile slowly fading. “Jeffery. I didn’t know you were in town.”

  Wentworth tucked her hand under his elbow. “Come along, my dear. We’ve had too little time together, and I don’t care to share you.” He nodded at Jeffery. “Tucker, isn’t it? Have a good day.” He swung around and drew Beth with him.

  Jeffery glared at the couple as they moved away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to toss the chocolates as far as he could. Better yet, he’d give them to the Jacobs children. He lifted his chin and pivoted the opposite direction, his long strides pounding the boardwalk hard enough to drive the spikes deeper into the wood. If only the brisk action would drown out the throbbing of his heart.

  Beth started to protest, but the words died on her lips. Amazement, disappointment, and anger had flashed across Jeffery’s face in the brief time they’d stood there. Annoyance swelled inside at the high-handed treatment Brent had dished out, and she yanked him to a halt. “That will be quite enough.”

  He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What will?”

  “I will not be whisked away like some kind of prize when a friend speaks to me. That was rude and unkind. I can’t imagine what Jeffery must think.”

  “Jeffery, is it?” Jealousy seemed to tinge Brent’s words for an instant before he cleared his throat.

  Had she only imagined the jealous tone?

  He patted her fingers still slipped through the crook of his arm. “I am sorry, Beth. I didn’t intend to be rude, and I had no idea he was a particular friend. I meant it when I said I hated to share the little bit of time we have together. Please forgive me.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, hoping it might not be too late to hail Jeffery and convey her regret, but he had disappeared in the press of people lining the street. Frustration assailed her. Somehow she must let Jeffery know the snub wasn’t her idea.

  Her irritation at Brent waned but didn’t quite dissolve. “You’re forgiven, but he is a friend. I hate hurting anyone.”

  “I understand, and I’ll not do something like that again.” He drew her closer. “Let’s walk awhile, shall we? It’s lovely out with no wind or rain at the moment.”

  Beth nodded and ambled in time with his step, her thoughts drifting. During their time over tea, Brent had been a consummate gentleman. She couldn’t understand why her aunt disapproved of him when they lived in Topeka.

  Guilt still pricked for not letting Aunt Wilma know of his arrival in Baker City, but she needed to decide how she felt about Brent before she brought her aunt into the picture. The old dear would surely try to convince her to quit seeing him, and Beth wasn’t prepared to do that as yet.

  If only Aunt Wilma had confided why she disliked Brent, she might better be able to sort through her conflicting emotions. Over the past months she’d gone from hurt and despair to anger and longing. Then recently she’d actually started to forget and move on. Her growing attraction to Jeffery had done that for her, she was sure of it. But after today she doubted their friendship would still be intact.

  Brent. What did she really feel about the man walking by her side? Today he’d come close to professing his love again, but she’d silenced him with a sharp shake of her head. It was too soon, and she didn’t want to be pushed into a corner. She’d finally forgiven him an
d set aside what she’d perceived as his abandonment, but there was no reason to rush.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Brent’s words drew her from her reverie, and his smile pulled her into his world.

  “Kind of wandering, I suppose.”

  “Anything you’d care to share?” His lazy smile was beguiling.

  “Thinking about our time together in Topeka.” She almost bit her tongue after the words left her mouth. She hadn’t planned on opening that door so soon.

  “Beth.” They’d reached a quiet section of town, and he paused, drawing both of her gloved hands into his. “Before we go any farther, I …” He closed his eyes briefly, sadness settling over his features.

  Concern raced through her. “Go on. What’s troubling you?”

  “I’m not sure I should say anything.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Forgive me. Let’s keep walking.” He turned to go.

  She gripped his fingers as they started to slide from hers. “Wait. I want to know. Tell me?”

  He sucked in a breath and released it in a sigh. “You’re sure? I don’t want to impose or have you think less of me.”

  “Very sure. And I certainly won’t think less of you for wanting to share what’s bothering you. Please go on.”

  He tucked her hand under his elbow, drawing her forward. Beth allowed him to seat her on a low-backed bench tucked under the eaves of the covered boardwalk. An occasional wagon rumbled past, and footsteps thudded farther up the walkway, but Beth kept her attention on Brent. He appeared troubled, almost fearful. She couldn’t imagine what could turn him from talking about their relationship when she’d inadvertently given him the opening.

  He swiveled to face her but didn’t touch her again. “I’m not sure how to say this.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll listen to whatever it is without judging.”

  “Thank you. You remember me explaining about my mother?”

  Pain shot through Beth at the reminder. “Yes. You mentioned she passed away.”