Shades of Honor

by Wendy Lindstrom

  Thrusting away memories that reminded him of his poor parenting, Radford retrieved the jug of chokecherry wine from the corner of the table and refilled his glass as Kyle dealt the cards.

  “Pass that over,” Boyd said. He took the jug and filled the other glasses before topping off his own.

  “Careful, Papa,” Evelyn warned. “That’s your third glass.”

  “Well, I’m thirsty.”

  Radford listened to the chuckles around the table. It had been like this years ago when his father was alive. William and Mary would come over and play cards with his parents, drinking wine and laughing late into the evening while he stood by his father’s knee as Rebecca was doing with him. To his surprise, the memory felt warm and welcome instead of burying him in melancholy because his father and Evelyn’s mother weren’t with them tonight.

  Boyd filled William’s glass and ignored Evelyn’s frown. “My partner is just building his strength,” he said, with a wink at William.

  “More like drowning his sorrows over your poor card playing,” Evelyn said, then grinned at Boyd.

  Laughter filled the kitchen and Boyd glanced at Kyle. “It’s not too late to change your mind about marrying her.”

  “Boyd Benjamin!” Radford’s mother covered her eyes and shook her head. “Lord, why did I have that child?”

  “If you don’t want Evelyn, I’ll take her,” Radford said, not realizing how his statement sounded until it was out of his mouth. When Kyle raised his eyebrows, Radford scrambled to cover his blunder. “Ah...the way Duke is playing, I could use a new partner.”

  Flustered by the sudden attention, and Kyle’s scrutinizing gaze, Evelyn took a drink from her wine glass. She wasn’t foolish enough to think Radford meant that as a compliment. Not after their earlier conversation about Rebecca. He didn’t like Evelyn reaching out to his daughter, but she couldn’t help herself. Rebecca was clinging to the safety of her father and a three-foot piece of cotton the same way Evelyn had clung to her livery. She had felt safe inside those four walls and gave her love to her horses, who wouldn’t hurt her. Now she was a misfit, uncomfortable anywhere else. Evelyn didn’t want Rebecca’s need for security to imprison her—as it had Evelyn.

  “Your turn,” Kyle said, startling Evelyn.

  She scrambled to keep her wine glass from tipping over and dropped her cards. They fluttered to the floor at her feet. Evelyn leaned over to retrieve them, but saw a pair of tiny, slippered feet step forward and two small hands reach down for the cards she had dropped. Rebecca gazed up at Evelyn, her brown eyes dark and nervous as though she was afraid to touch the cards.

  Evelyn nodded for her to go ahead, and Rebecca’s inept fingers reached for the cards, fumbling at the edges until she managed to curl her fingers beneath them. With both fists, she gathered them to her chest, clasping the bent cards for dear life as she stood. Slowly, she moved to Evelyn’s side, then leaned forward. “Here,” she said shyly, releasing the cards into Evelyn’s lap.

  A riot of dark curls spilled across Rebecca’s back and rolled over her shoulders. Of its own volition, Evelyn’s hand lifted and stroked Rebecca’s head. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice sounding emotional to her own ears.

  Rebecca looked up at Evelyn with a shy smile, then stuck her finger in her mouth and took a step back, leaning against her daddy’s knee.

  Radford lifted his daughter onto his lap, drawing Evelyn’s gaze to his. A deep sadness registered in his eyes and Evelyn experienced a sudden urge to put her arms around both of them.

  o0o

  Evelyn stopped beneath the oak tree with its giant limbs spreading several feet across the yard, one of them still holding her childhood swing that Rebecca now used. “It’s late,” she said to Kyle, who had walked her home after their card game. “I’d better go in.”

  Kyle braced his hand against the tree trunk. “Radford’s capable of helping your father up to bed. Let’s enjoy the breeze and talk for a few minutes.”

  Evelyn slipped between the ropes of the swing and sat on the wide wooden seat. “All right, but it seems all we talk about lately is our wedding and building a house.”

  Kyle gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “That's what most women want to talk about.”

  “I'd rather talk about horse races, or the cities we might visit someday. Those are the things we used to share.” Evelyn turned to Kyle. “Why don’t we do that anymore?”

  He shrugged. “I guess right now there are things more pertinent. Maybe after the wedding we'll have time for that.”

  “I hope so. I really miss our talks.” Evelyn stood up and grasped his hands, needing to connect with her old friend. “I want us to be happy.”

  “So do I.”

  “I mean really happy.” Evelyn met his eyes. “Like we were when we used to race our horses to the gorge. Remember the feeling of being eight years old and not afraid of anything?”

  “You weren’t afraid. That’s why you always won the race.”

  Evelyn laughed and her mind traveled back to the afternoon Kyle nearly broke his neck jumping a tree stump to cut in front of her and cross their imaginary finish line. The horse had stumbled and unseated Kyle, who was lucky enough to land in a freshly plowed field. Evelyn wanted to choke him for breaking the rules, instead she offered to wash out the dirt ground into Kyle’s shirt and pants. After he’d disrobed behind a bush and tossed his clothes to her, Evelyn clutched them under her arm and rode off, yelling to Kyle that it served him right for cheating.

  “What are you smirking about?” he asked.

  “I was remembering the day I stole your clothes and made you ride home in your undergarments.”

  His grin widened. “I still owe you for the beating I got that day.”

  “You deserved it for cheating.” Evelyn laughed and swung their arms from side to side. “Remember this little ritual we used to share when celebrating something grand?”

  He squinted in momentary confusion then slowly nodded. “Kinda foolish, wasn't it?”

  “I didn't think so,” she said, but released his hands. “We were full of enthusiasm then. Remember, Kyle? You once told me that you wanted to go out West where the trees are so tall you couldn’t even see the tops of them. A tree like that would keep the mill busy forever.”

  Kyle leaned a shoulder against the wide trunk of the tree and propped a foot on a thick upraised root. “Our mill couldn't handle a tree that size.”

  “Oh.”

  “Have you considered what size stove you’ll need for our kitchen?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “I need to order the stove so it’s here when I get the kitchen ready. What do you want?”

  Evelyn shook her head, her mind jarred by Kyle’s abrupt change of topic. She should be used to his penchant for keeping their conversation to business, but every time he did it, Evelyn felt her hopes for an intimate union with him plummet.

  “Our wedding is in less than twelve weeks, Ev. You need to make a decision.”

  “I know that, Kyle, I just thought we could do this another time. I thought you wanted to talk to me tonight.”

  “We’re talking, aren’t we?” When Evelyn didn’t respond, Kyle shoved away from the tree. “What's bothering you? You’ve been acting odd ever since Radford came home. Are you still upset that he’s running the livery?”

  “No,” she said, and though it was true she’d been acting skittish around Radford, being unable to communicate with Kyle had nothing to do with his brother. Kyle honestly didn’t understand her, and Evelyn had no idea how to reach him. Sometime after his father died, Kyle had ceased to dream, and now he was incapable of going back.

  “Ev.” Kyle slipped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Daydreaming doesn't run the mill or the livery for us so it's best to keep our minds on what needs to be done.”

  He was right of course, but Evelyn missed the boy she could play with.

  “Let’s forget about talking,” Kyle said quietly. “I’d
rather do this.” He lowered his head and kissed her.

  It felt as awkward as the first time, but as he deepened the kiss, Evelyn remembered to part her lips and allow Kyle’s tongue access to hers. When he groaned and pulled her hard against him, she thought maybe she shouldn't have done it. When his hand started to move up her waist, she knew it for certain.

  She pulled back. “That’s more than a kiss, Kyle.”

  Heat remained in his eyes, but he dutifully distanced himself from her. “Sorry,” he said. The sincerity in his expression pleased her, and she wondered if perhaps he did care more than he let on.

  He cupped her chin. “That was much better, Ev.”

  Those simple words shattered her hopes like a stone hitting glass. Did “better” mean “good enough”?

  o0o

  The following morning after Radford and Evelyn had serviced three customers and rented out a rig, Evelyn waited on the porch with her father while Radford brought the wagon around. As he pulled up, Rebecca sat at his side, gazing at the world around her as if seeing it all for the first time.

  Radford vaulted to the ground, caught Evelyn’s waist, and lifted her onto the back of the wagon before she knew what was happening. The feel of his strong hands around her ribs sent a queer thrill up Evelyn’s sides and she grasped his arms, looking down into his eyes.

  He smiled up at her. “You can let go now,” he said, nodding at her fingers gripping his biceps.

  “Oh!” She yanked her hands away and moved to the side of the wagon. “I wasn’t ready to board yet. I need to help Papa first.”

  With a casual step to the side, Radford blocked Evelyn’s descent. “I’ll give him a hand.” Radford turned away and placed the toolbox on the ground beside her father to use as a step. “Can you manage with that, William?”

  Her father eyed the box. “I can sure as heck try.”

  Evelyn stared at Radford, wondering what he was up to. He had deliberately put her out of the way then cut her off. Didn’t he realize that her father was too frail to board alone? “Wait, Papa,” she said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “If I can’t hike these old bones aboard, Radford can give me a push.”

  Worried, but unwilling to argue with her father, Evelyn held her breath as she watched him struggle to climb aboard. He braced his weak left leg and stepped with the right, gripping his cane as he slowly made the step, and the next. When he finally collapsed onto the seat, his face was red, but his eyes held a look of victory.

  “Keep that...toolbox handy, son,” he said, winded but glowing.

  Radford laughed as he chucked the box onto the wagon bed and climbed aboard. With a wink at Evelyn that heated her blood as much as the feel of his hands on her waist had, Radford urged the Morgans forward and drove them to town.

  “Why don’t you leave Rebecca with Evelyn?” her father suggested to Radford when they stopped at Brown and Shepherd's store. “She ain’t interested in horse feed and flooring nails. There’s all kinds of gewgaws for her to look at in Aggie’s store.”

  “We’ll only be at the feed depot a few minutes, William.”

  “That’s right, so let Rebecca go snoop around here for a bit.”

  Evelyn saw the indecision in Radford’s expression, but he turned to his daughter and asked reluctantly, “Do you want to stay here?”

  Rebecca glanced at Evelyn, who encouraged her with a smile, then shifted her gaze back to her daddy. “Will you come back?”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” Radford’s expression softened and his shoulders dropped. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “I will,” she said hesitantly.

  Radford’s expression said he didn’t want to leave Rebecca with anyone, but to Evelyn’s surprise, he climbed down and stood Rebecca on the boardwalk.

  Thank you, Papa! Evelyn vaulted from the wagon before Radford could touch her again. Her ribs were still tingling from the feel of his hands on her waist.

  “I’ll keep her right beside me,” Evelyn said, then opened the door to Brown and Shepherd’s before Radford could change his mind.

  Rebecca followed Evelyn inside, her tiny nose pointed upward as she sniffed the air.

  Evelyn gestured to a table across the store. “The scented soaps and spices make it smell pretty in here. Look around if you like.”

  At first, Rebecca lingered near Evelyn, then grew bolder and began to wander the store.

  Evelyn selected a can of Eureka harness oil, a can of lard, a bag of flour, and a jar of molasses. Her hand lingered on a small cake of jasmine-scented soap, a fragrance her mother used to wear. She lifted it to her nose, basking in the lovely scent, immersing herself in the nostalgia of old memories.

  She could buy it this time if she wanted to. Business was already picking up now that folks knew Radford was at the livery.

  It pricked her pride, but Evelyn understood it wasn’t her lack of skill that caused her livery to fail. It was mostly because she was a woman doing a man’s job. Maybe her father saw that and thought Radford’s presence would give her a chance to bring the business back to life. Then again, maybe he had just lost faith in her because business had gotten so bad.

  Evelyn laid the soap back in the basket and wiped her hand on the front of her shirt, hoping to keep some of the scent with her. The feel of her coarse cambric blouse returned her sanity and she turned away from temptation. How foolish of her to bother with frivolities. She spent her time with horses and hay and work that made her hands as rough as a man's. What use would someone like her have for scented soap?

  A quick in-drawn breath drew her attention to the front corner of the store. Rebecca was pressing both hands to her cheeks and staring at a cradle that held a small doll with a painted porcelain head. The sleeping baby doll was wrapped in a soft white blanket with a pink bonnet on her head.

  Slowly, Rebecca squatted beside the cradle and peered inside. Her eyes took in every inch of the sleeping infant until she appeared breathless with wanting to touch it.

  Evelyn laid her items on a stack of boys’ clothing, then went to Rebecca. “She's a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

  “She's beau-tee-ful....” Rebecca fairly breathed the words, she was in such awe over the rosy-cheeked baby. Her small fingers closed over the side of the cradle, but she did not touch the doll.

  Evelyn wanted to tell her she could take her home, but a doll like that would cost far more than a simple cake of soap. Regretfully, she knelt beside Rebecca and unthinkingly stroked the tiny, rounded back, her own heart full of misery. She had no idea how Radford managed his finances and wouldn't risk embarrassing him by showing him something that he might not be able to afford to buy for his daughter. But she would find out the price and talk to him about it later.

  “I'm sorry, honey, but I don't have enough money to buy your baby doll today.”

  Rebecca's expression fell and she cast a long, sad look at the doll.

  “Maybe we can come see her another time, sweetheart.”

  Rebecca touched the white blanket that covered the infant, letting her fingertips trail across the cotton softness. “Bye, baby,” she whispered. She gathered her worn blanket and turned away, following Evelyn without a single word of complaint.

  Evelyn felt awful, especially since Rebecca accepted the loss as though she were used to going without the things she loved. Other than her blanket, Rebecca had no toys that Evelyn had seen. Where was her doll? Didn’t Radford know that little girls needed things like baby dolls?

  Evelyn searched for the items she had left on a pile of ready-made clothing. A small pair of britches caught her eye and she picked them up, thinking how much easier it would be for Rebecca to play in them instead of her dresses.

  “Oh, Evelyn, surely you’re not thinking of purchasing those for this precious child?” Agatha Brown asked, stopping beside her and peering down at Rebecca.

  Evelyn smiled at the store owner. No, she wasn’t considering it. She would never make Rebecca into
a misfit like herself. “I was looking for my jar of molasses.”

  “Well, thank goodness,” Agatha said, retrieving Evelyn’s missing jar from between two piles of trousers. “You know how children like to imitate.”

  Before Evelyn could reply, the bell over the door rang. Both women glanced up as Radford came in, scanned the store with anxious eyes, then headed directly toward them.

  “There you are,” he said, scooping Rebecca into his arms as though he’d been away from her for a year rather than fifteen minutes. “Have you introduced yourself to Mrs. Brown?” he asked, winking at Agatha.

  “We haven’t had a chance, young man. Perhaps you can introduce yourself, as well.”

  “You don’t remember?” Radford asked with mock surprise. “Well, I used to be your best customer. Remember those delicious molasses cookies you used to sell every Saturday morning?”

  The barest hint of pleasure crossed Mrs. Brown’s face. “Why, I haven't baked them in ten years.”

  “I'm disappointed to hear that. I moved back to Fredonia just for your cookies.”

  A small laugh escaped her. “You just gave yourself away with that Grayson charm.”

  Evelyn was astonished by how much younger a simple smile made Mrs. Brown look. Why, if she tried, Agatha might even be pretty.

  Radford took Mrs. Brown’s hand. “Radford Grayson, at your service,” he said, bowing slightly, “and this is my daughter, Rebecca.”

  “Your mother must be thrilled to have you back home.”

  “She certainly is,” William said, as he thumped into the store. “How are you, Aggie?”

  Agatha’s gaze flew to William. “Since you've finally decided to grace my store, William Tucker, I'd like to know if I’m ever going to see your daughter in anything but britches.”

  Though Evelyn suspected Mrs. Brown was tweaking her father, she couldn’t let him be taken to task for her appearance. “I wear a dress every Sunday, Mrs. Brown.”

  William tapped his cane on Evelyn’s toe. “I'm old, but I'm still capable of fightin' my own battles.” William gave Mrs. Brown a solicitous grin. “Besides, Aggie and I are old sparring partners, aren't we?”