Wishing on Buttercups

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Wishing on Buttercups Page 27

by Miralee Ferrell

Wilma glanced down at her skirt and smoothed out imaginary wrinkles. “I’ve told you so many times, I’d think you’d have memorized it by now.”

  Beth stuffed down her irritation. There was no point in getting upset with her aunt. It wasn’t her fault Jeffery had left without saying good-bye. She willed her voice to be calm. “I know, but I’d like to hear it one more time.” Sinking onto the end of the sofa she stared across the cozy room at her aunt.

  “All right.” Wilma nodded and met her gaze. “He said they were going on a business trip to La Grande. His father had someone to see and apparently there was a rush to make the stage before it left. You were gone with Caleb so he left word with me.”

  Beth couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was missing in the explanation. “But he didn’t leave me a letter. You’re sure he said they’d only be gone a couple of days?”

  “No. It takes two days to travel, and he thought they’d only need to be there one day. So I assume five days in all.”

  Beth gave a short nod. “So if all goes well, they should return on tomorrow’s stage.” She touched the locket at her throat, longing for the sense of peace it usually brought.

  “I would assume that’s the case.”

  Beth’s head snapped up. “What aren’t you saying, Auntie? Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

  Wilma harrumphed. “Stop plaguing me, girl. I’ve had as much of this as I can stand. I’m sure he’ll be home tomorrow night, and all will be well. You’re fretting too much. You need to find something worthwhile to keep occupied.” She grunted as she got to her feet. “I’m getting stiff. I’m going to find Caleb and take a walk, if I can tolerate the cold.”

  Beth clamped her lips shut to keep a sharp retort from slipping out. There was not one thing she could think of that would get her mind off Jeffery’s leaving. She’d tried working on her illustrations to no avail. All she wanted to do was pace and stare out the nearest window. It might be foolish, but she couldn’t quell the sense of dread that had consumed her for the past two days.

  When Aunt Wilma first told her Jeffery was gone it came as a shock, but knowing Mr. Tucker, she assumed he’d pressured his son to accompany him and not given him adequate warning. Now she had to wonder. As the days progressed, her aunt seemed more reticent and tense, as though she were hiding information. Was it possible Jeffery hadn’t waited to talk to her or left her a note because he regretted his hasty offer to court her? Maybe this was his way of putting distance between them, so he’d have time to think and reconsider his decision.

  She pulled an embroidered pillow onto her lap and hugged it against her chest. Jeffery wouldn’t do that; he was honest and genuine in all of his dealings. Fear pricked at the edges of her mind. She’d thought that about Brent at one time as well. Had she put too much trust in Jeffery?

  There had been so many disappointments and losses in her life, and she couldn’t stand the thought of Jeffery being another. She laid her cheek against the pillow. It wouldn’t kill her if Jeffery changed his mind, but it would be one more horrid blow. Tears pricked, and she blinked, unwilling to allow them to fall. It might not kill her, but if the pain piercing her right now was any indication, it might come close.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Wilma wasn’t certain she could stand it much longer. Beth had been like a caged bear pacing the house and barely contained her worry since they’d awakened to over two feet of snow three days ago. Jeffery hadn’t returned, and no stages were running. She’d promised Jeffery not to mention his intention to visit Steven Harding and his mother, but she hated the anxiety filling her girl’s eyes. She plunked her empty teacup on the saucer. What would it change if Beth knew? She blew out a breath of frustration and snatched the newspaper from a nearby table in the parlor, shaking it open.

  Frances harrumphed. “Can you not sit still for five minutes, Wilma? Something is plaguing you, so why don’t you spit it out and be done with it? Are you fretting because Caleb and Beth went to town and did not take you along?”

  “Not at all, although I’ll admit it would be nice to get out of this house. But I don’t care to push my way through snowdrifts two feet deep and can’t imagine why Caleb would want to attempt it.”

  Her friend smirked. “Because he is a man. Men are contrary creatures and do not always follow reason. Besides, Beth went as well, and you said nothing about wondering why she would go.” She drummed her fingers against the arm of the sofa. “From what Micah said, the drifts are melting, and the road to town is open. I understand it was worse to the west, and Baker City got off easy in comparison.”

  Wilma groaned. “That is not what I wanted to hear.”

  “Jeffery and Mr. Tucker are grown men. You worry too much. I would imagine they stayed put in La Grande like sensible people and will be along soon.”

  “I suppose, but I can’t seem to convince Beth of that possibility.” Wilma placed the paper facedown on the table. “That’s why she went to town, you know. To see if there’s any word at the stage station.”

  “Ah, I thought that might be the case. She has been drifting around like a lost waif the past few days.” Frances leaned forward. “Do you think the girl has finally realized she cares for Jeffery?”

  Wilma couldn’t answer past the lump in her throat.

  “And high time, if you ask me. It has been as obvious as the day is long that he is smitten with her, and I thought she would never wake up in time.”

  “In time? For what?”

  “To keep from losing him, of course. An intelligent man like that is not going to sit around and wait forever, you know. Why, not long after he arrived, his father told me there is a young woman at home they had hoped might be a suitable match for their son. I do believe that might be one reason he came, in hopes of persuading Jeffery to return and marry.”

  Wilma bristled. How like Frances, to stir a pot that didn’t need stirring. “I don’t care how many women are waiting in Cincinnati hoping to find a husband. Jeffery is interested in my niece, and that’s that.”

  A sly smile edged Frances’s mouth. “Ah-ha. I am certainly happy to see you willing to assert yourself at last. However, we should not borrow trouble where the two young people are concerned. These things seem to have a way of working themselves out.” She smirked. “Although a little nudge in the right direction never hurts.”

  “I’m not sure what good that will do, with Jeffery and Mr. Tucker off who-knows-where with no idea when they might come home.” Wilma gripped her hands together to keep from wringing them.

  Frances narrowed her eyes. “What else is bothering you?”

  Wilma opened her mouth, all hesitation at sharing her secret gone. She must tell someone, and Frances was as good a choice as any. Besides, she had made it clear where her heart was in the matter and would certainly understand.

  Just then the front door banged open, and the rush of footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor. Beth burst into the room with Caleb on her heels. Snow fell from their garments and drifted to the floor, but Beth didn’t seem to notice. “Aunt Wilma, Mrs. Cooper.” She placed her hand over her heart and drew in a long breath. “I’m afraid something terrible has happened to Jeffery and Mr. Tucker.”

  Wilma bolted upright, her nerves all aquiver. “What in the world?” She shot to her feet and stopped in front of her niece, grasping her arms. “Calm down.” Drawing her forward, she pressed her onto the sofa. “Caleb, why don’t you sit as well, and help sort this out? Tell us from the beginning, and take your time.”

  Katherine came into the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I heard the commotion. Is everything all right?”

  Wilma shook her head. “We’re not sure yet. Why don’t you join us, and Beth will fill us in.”

  Beth took a sip of the tepid tea her aunt offered and worked to calm her racing heart. Dread had given her feet wings on the way home, and poor Dr. C
aleb had barely been able to keep up. She’d prayed all the way, not even feeling the bite of the wind. Surely God wouldn’t let anything dreadful happen to Jeffery when she’d finally discovered how much she cared?

  Her aunt reached over and patted her hand. “Better now, dear? Can you tell us what happened?”

  She set the cup down. “Thank you, yes.” She turned to Caleb. “Please remind me if I forget something important?”

  He nodded and settled himself on the other side of Wilma. “I’d be happy to.”

  Each person in the room exuded caring support, and Beth’s fear waned. As much as these people cared, God loved her even more. She had to choose to trust Him in this, come what may. “We stopped by the stage station to see when another coach might be coming or going to La Grande. A man had ridden in a couple of hours earlier, and made it by horseback, but said it might be days before a wagon or coach could get through.” She stopped and strove to quell the trembling in her limbs. Sucking in a breath, she tried again, then shook her head.

  Caleb raised his brows, and at her nod, he continued. “He brought word that there was a death along the trail. Two, actually.” He looked from one face to the next. “Two men attempted to ride from La Grande to Baker City the night the storm hit. They must have gotten lost in the blowing snow and wandered in circles. They were found frozen stiff a ways off the road, and their horses were gone.”

  Wilma gasped, and Katherine choked back a cry.

  Frances shook her head. “Nothing says it is Jeffery and Mr. Tucker.”

  Caleb gave a short nod. “I agree. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Beth.”

  “Have they brought their …. I mean … are they here, in town?” Wilma croaked out the words.

  “No.” Caleb glanced at Beth. “We asked. Apparently they were found closer to La Grande and were taken there.”

  Frances clucked her tongue. “So sad. No one has identified them yet?”

  “The man didn’t know. All he heard was it was a young man and an older one. At this point we have to pray it wasn’t Jeffery and Mr. Tucker and hope for the best.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Three days had never dragged by so slowly in Beth’s entire life. Much of her time was spent here in the parlor, but staring out the window didn’t change a thing. She’d thought it hard when Brent left her back in Kansas, but nothing compared to this present agony. No word had come from La Grande as to the identity of the two bodies. More riders arrived in town, but the stagecoach still wasn’t running. Any day, the stage company promised. The wait left Beth sick to her stomach and unable to sleep.

  Lucy swept into the parlor, looking more like a young lady each day with her long blond curls piled on her head. Zachary trailed along behind, carrying a board game.

  Mandy perked up and wriggled in Beth’s grasp. “Can I play too?”

  Lucy wrinkled her brow. “How about I play something else with you later? This is a word game for big people, and you’re not old enough.”

  Mandy slid off Beth’s lap and planted her hands on her waist. “I am too old enough. I go to school, and I can spell lots of words.”

  Katherine entered carrying a tray of tea, coffee, and cookies. “I thought you all might enjoy a snack since it’s still a while until supper. I’m thankful for the rain that’s washing away the snow, but it’s still too cold and wet to spend any time outdoors.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll be glad for spring for more than one reason.”

  Micah took the tray from her grasp. “And you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy. Doctor’s orders.”

  Katherine smiled. “It was not heavy, Micah.” She directed her attention to Frances. “Mama, would you care to pour the tea for whoever wants a cup?”

  Frances straightened and smiled. “Certainly.” She waited until her son-in-law set the tray close to hand. “Wilma? Coffee or tea?”

  “Tea, thank you.”

  Frances eyed her friend. “You have been awfully quiet all afternoon.”

  Wilma hunched her shoulder. “I suppose I’m tired.”

  Beth shook herself from her reverie. How had she missed noticing her aunt’s pallor? Guilt pricked at her conscience. Because she’d had her mind on her own troubles instead of caring what anyone close to her might be going through. “Aren’t you sleeping, Auntie?”

  Wilma dropped her gaze to her lap. “Not too well.”

  “Is something amiss more than worry over Jeffery and Mr. Tucker?” Beth wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she suddenly knew the answer. Aunt Wilma knew something and had been keeping it from her. The puffy eyes and reluctance to meet her gaze, not to mention her unusual silence, spoke volumes.

  Wilma opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Nothing I can discuss, thank you.” The words were so low Beth barely heard.

  Beth hurried across the room, kneeling beside her aunt’s chair. “Whatever is the trouble? Is something wrong with Dr. Caleb?”

  Wilma waved her hand. “No, no. He’s fine. Taking mail to the post office since they expect the coach to go out soon.”

  “Then what?” The air in the room seemed to still, and no one spoke.

  The front door banged open. “They’re back! Everybody!” Dr. Caleb’s excited shout rang through the house. He rushed into the open doorway and waved his arms. “Jeffery and Mr. Tucker. They made it through with a wagon, and they’ll be here any moment.” He turned to Katherine. “Mrs. Jacobs, would there be somewhere that an invalid could rest for an hour or two after they arrive?”

  Beth had pushed to her feet, her heart pounding almost out of her chest. “Invalid? Who’s hurt? Is Jeffery all right?” She plucked her skirt up and raced for the front door. “I’m going to meet them. How far are they from the house?” Grabbing her heavy cloak from a peg behind the door, she struggled to wrap it around her shoulders.

  The doctor placed his hand on her arm and shook his head. “Wait, child. Let them come here. There’s no sense in you trudging through the slop out there. As far as I could tell, Jeffery is fine. He’s driving the wagon.”

  Relief shot through Beth, but another thought hammered at her mind. “His father then?”

  “I don’t think so. They’ll be here in a matter of minutes. Please trust me and wait here.”

  Beth’s hands shook so hard she could barely hang the cloak back on the peg. Jeffery was alive.

  Jeffery reined the buggy to a stop and stared at the house. Would Beth welcome him? Eleven days with no word. If only the telegraph line hadn’t gone down in the storm, and if only there hadn’t been a storm. None of that mattered now. He’d left without explaining his actions, and his skin crawled at the knowledge of the hurt he might have caused. She’d agreed to give him a chance when he asked permission to court her, then he’d disappeared without an adequate explanation.

  He had gone over the details in his mind a thousand times since leaving Baker City, and every time he arrived at the same conclusion. Beth’s happiness and her desire to know her history were most important. But he hated the thought that the long delay might have heaped pain on the woman he loved.

  He smiled at the older woman reclining in the backseat of the buggy. “I won’t be long. I need to give Beth some warning before we take you in. Are you sure you’re warm enough?”

  Isabelle Mason nodded. “You made a fine bed for me, Mr. Tucker, and there’s enough blankets covering me to warm an entire village. Take your time. I don’t want to scare her.” Her lips quivered, although she attempted a brave smile. “I hope we aren’t making a big mistake coming here unannounced like this.”

  Steven Harding tucked a woolen blanket closer around her neck. “Shh. We’ve been over that ground a dozen times already. Jeffery knows Beth well. I’m still finding it a struggle to think of her as anything but Bess, but I’ll get used to it.” He cocked his head. “You go on in now. You, too, Mr. Tucker. We’ll be fin
e out here until you say it’s time to come in. And if she decides she doesn’t want to see us, we’ll understand and move on.”

  Jeffery wrapped the reins around the brake and climbed down from the buggy. He glanced at his father, who still sat on his horse. “You’re coming in, aren’t you?”

  Mark Tucker shook his head. “Not yet, son. I’ll wait with these folks for a couple of minutes. I think you need a little time with your girl alone before we all barge in and start answering questions.”

  Warmth shot through him. He’d never realized before his father could be so perceptive. “Thank you, although I have no idea if she’s my girl or if she’s even still speaking to me.” He tugged at the top button of his coat. “I guess I’d better go find out.”

  His foot hit the last step of the porch when the front door swung open and a blur of deep green burst out. With skirts swirling around her and arms outstretched, Beth flew across the porch and into his arms.

  Stunned, Jeffery could only hold her. Muffled sobs rose, and she trembled in his embrace. “Shh, Beth, it’s all right. You’re shivering. We need to get inside where it’s warm.” Keeping her tight against his side, he pushed open the door and drew her into the foyer. He lifted her chin and ran his thumb down her cheek, stroking the tear-wet skin. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Truly, I thought I was doing the right thing. I had no idea I would be gone so long.”

  She inhaled a long, shuddering breath and lifted a gaze filled with lingering despair. “I thought you were dead.”

  The idea that he’d hurt and worried her nearly paralyzed him. “We were delayed by the storm and stuck in La Grande for a number of days, but we were never in danger.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and pressed his lips where it had lain. “Why would you think that?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened again, Beth met his gaze without flinching. “Someone rode into town and said two men were found frozen along the trail to Baker City. They weren’t identified, but one was younger and the other older. They were found three days after the snow hit, and when you didn’t return …” She took a step back. “Why didn’t you talk to me before you left, Jeffery? I’ve been sick with worry.”

 

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