Tomorrow's Garden

by Amanda Cabot

  “Then it’s fortunate everything is on this bank.” As they’d driven into town, she had noted that the primary business establishments were on Hochstrasse, and Jake had reported that the open-air market was located on rue du Marché, the French name for Market Street, only a block away from their house. As far as Harriet could see, the far side of the river was pastoral.

  “Most everything is here,” Mr. Wood said, “but the doctor and the new midwife are on the other bank. That’s why I’ve been trying to convince the townspeople to build a bridge.”

  Harriet had no need of a midwife. The doctor was a different story. With Harriet’s three brothers possessing an uncanny ability to break limbs, Fortune’s doctor had earned a good living treating them. Trying to make light of it, she said, “Did you hear that, boys? We’ll just have to ensure we don’t need the doctor during a rainstorm.”

  When they’d crossed the river, Lawrence gestured toward the first road on the right. “That’s the Lazy B ranch.” Though partially blocked by oak and pecan trees, the outline of a two-story farmhouse was visible. “A family named Bramble used to live there. Now Zach and Priscilla Webster call it home.”

  Though his voice had been matter-of-fact, it caught ever so slightly as he pronounced the woman’s name. Harriet turned to look at Lawrence, but there was nothing to see. He was as calm as ever. She, on the other hand, must have been suffering from an overactive imagination if she thought that Priscilla Webster meant something special to him.

  “The next ranch is where we’re going, the Bar C,” Lawrence continued. “After that comes the Friedrichs’ farm. That’s it for this side of the river. You’ll get to meet all those neighbors tonight.”

  Only minutes later they were on Bar C land, approaching the ranch house. It could have been any Texas ranch with one exception. Harriet’s quick glance told her that the Bar C contained the normal complement of outbuildings and a corral where two curious horses watched their arrival. There was even a small burial plot shaded by half a dozen trees. What surprised her and what distinguished the Bar C from the countless other ranches she had seen was that, although the barn and other outbuildings were constructed of timber, the house itself was adobe.

  “Welcome!” A pretty brunette whose thickening midsection left no doubt that she was great with child emerged from the house to greet them as they spilled from the wagon. This, Harriet knew without being told, was Sarah Canfield, Ladreville’s former schoolteacher whose delicate condition, to use Grandma’s term, was the reason Harriet and her family were now in Ladreville. The fond glance he gave Sarah left no doubt that the man at her side was her husband, Clay. Though almost as tall as Lawrence and undeniably handsome, somehow Clay Canfield looked like a pale imitation of Lawrence Wood.

  Harriet shook herself mentally. It was absurd. She didn’t care about the town’s mayor. She had learned her lesson with Thomas. A handsome face and sweet words were of no value unless there was substance underneath them. Fixing a smile on her face, Harriet took another step forward. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Canfield.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Please call us by our given names. I don’t know what it was like in Fortune, but you’ll discover we don’t put much stock in formality here.” She turned toward the town’s mayor. “Lawrence, I appreciate your escorting the Kirks.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  “You can’t fool me.” Sarah accompanied her words with a raised eyebrow. “I know you Rangers prefer being active to sitting around and making polite conversation, but I do appreciate your coming.”

  Harriet gave Lawrence Wood an appraising glance. A Texas Ranger. That explained his commanding presence. The lawmen were famous throughout the state and, Harriet suspected, well beyond its borders. Renowned for their fighting skills and their mastery of outdoor living, their names were frequently spoken in the hushed tones reserved for heroes. Though Ladreville was a charming town, Harriet couldn’t help but wonder what had induced Lawrence Wood to leave the Rangers and come here. Today was not the day to ask him.

  As Harriet introduced her siblings to Sarah and Clay, a little girl raced out of the ranch house. “Ooh, a girl!” The dark-haired child who bore a strong resemblance to Sarah grabbed Mary’s hand and started back toward the house, dragging Mary with her. “Come see my dolly.”

  Sarah gave Harriet a wry smile. “That’s my sister, Thea. As you can see, she’s so excited by the thought of female companionship that she’s forgotten all the manners I’ve tried to drum into her. I hope your sister doesn’t mind.”

  “She won’t,” Harriet assured her. “I suspect Mary will be thrilled to play big sister.” Her brothers, on the other hand, were looking anything but thrilled. Jake’s prediction of boredom was coming true.

  As if he had read her thoughts, Clay Canfield approached Jake. “You boys ever play horseshoes?” When Jake shrugged, Daniel poked him in the side. “C’mon,” Clay continued. “We’ve got time for a game before the others arrive.” He gave Lawrence an appraising look. “You too, big boy.”

  Jake’s snicker met with a grin. “I reckon a boy”—Lawrence emphasized the word—“is never too old to play horseshoes.”

  “And we ladies are never too young to enjoy a glass of cool tea.” Sarah led the way, ushering Harriet and Ruth into her home.

  Harriet’s first impression was one of welcome coolness. Even though it was late afternoon, the August sun was still brutally hot. But though the closest trees were too far away to shade the house, its interior was cool, thanks to the thick adobe walls.

  “Your home is beautiful.” As her eyes adjusted to the lower light, Harriet admired the large central room with its comfortable furniture and colorful braided rugs. “I was surprised by the adobe, though.”

  Sarah sank into a chair, placing both hands on her abdomen to cradle the child within. “The original house was timber like our neighbors’, but Clay and I decided to rebuild with adobe after the fire.”

  Her words were matter-of-fact, as if a burned house was a normal event. Harriet shuddered as images of another house and another fire raced through her, scorching her with the memory. Though it had been almost seven years, she could not forget what had happened that November day. She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had taken residence. “Was anyone hurt?” The words came out as little more than a croak. Ruth said nothing but moved closer and slid her arm around Harriet’s waist.

  “No, thank God.” Sarah emphasized her words with a shake of her head. “We were blessed, but we didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “I understand.” Though she directed her response at Sarah, Harriet gave her sister a meaningful look. She hadn’t been overreacting when she’d balked at the idea of allowing the family to sleep upstairs. Ladreville was no stranger to fire.

  The sound of a multitude of voices interrupted Harriet’s thoughts. Her hostess wrinkled her nose and pretended to frown. “Just what I feared. Everyone is arriving at once. I hope you’ll be able to remember all the names. We have five more guests, and it looks like the boys—both big and small—are coming with them.”

  Harriet shrugged as she and Ruth rose to greet the newcomers. Compared to the challenge she was likely to meet her first day of school when she faced a room of strangers, five was nothing. “Since there are six of us, including three boys who delight in answering to each other’s names, I suspect you should save your concern for your other guests.”

  Sarah laughed and began the introductions, leading Harriet and Ruth toward a blond man and an older couple whose resemblance announced that they were his parents. “I’d like you to meet our neighbors to the south, Frau and Herr Friedrich and their son Karl.”

  It appeared Karl had inherited his father’s medium height and stocky build, while his almost painfully thin mother had given him her blue eyes. Though his parents’ hair was now liberally streaked with gray, Harriet could see that it had once been the same sandy blond as their son’s. With his square face and
undistinguished features, Karl Friedrich was not a handsome man. Moreover, he lacked Lawrence Wood’s distinguished air. Harriet bit the inside of her cheek to stop her errant thoughts. A man’s appearance wasn’t important. Hadn’t she learned that lesson with Thomas? What counted was what was inside him. She managed a quick smile for the Friedrich family.

  “Willkommen.” Frau Friedrich accompanied her greeting with a broad smile.

  “Welcome to Ladreville.” Her husband seconded her wishes. “We’re glad to have a teacher for our new school.”

  Karl stroked his beard. “I’m glad to have pretty girls in Ladreville.” He was, Harriet was certain, referring to Ruth. She was the pretty Kirk sister. Harriet was the bossy one, or so the residents of Fortune claimed. But, instead of smiling at Ruth, Karl directed his next words to Harriet. “I see you have good strong brothers too. Your parents must be proud. Will they be joining you here?”

  “Our parents are no longer alive.” She had mentioned that in her correspondence with Michel Ladre, though she had felt no compunction to describe the circumstances of their deaths. “There are things which others need not learn.” Grandma had been speaking of Harriet’s parents’ lives. If she had been alive, Grandma would have declared that the manner of their deaths benefited from similar circumspection.

  “I’m sorry. If there’s anything Otto or I can do, you need only ask.” To Harriet’s surprise, Frau Friedrich hugged her. Harriet could not remember the last time anyone other than Ruth or Mary had hugged her. Perhaps it should have seemed awkward, being embraced by a stranger, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through her at the simple gesture of comfort.

  A soft cough reminded Frau Friedrich there were others waiting to greet the Kirks. As the motherly woman stepped aside, Harriet looked up at one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Tall and slender, with strawberry blonde hair and brilliant green eyes, she was Harriet’s vision of the perfect woman. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was accompanied by an even taller dark-haired man whose smile said he adored her. This was, Harriet knew instinctively, genuine love, the kind she had read about in books, the kind that had eluded her.

  “Sarah went back to the kitchen to check on something,” the woman said with a kind smile, “so we’ll introduce ourselves. I’m Priscilla Webster, and this is my husband, Zach.”

  “You live on the Lazy B, don’t you?”

  Priscilla nodded. “It sounds as if you’ve been given the grand tour of Ladreville, such as it is.”

  “The tour of this side of the river, at any rate. Mr. Wood pointed out your ranch as we rode by.” Harriet looked at the man who had accompanied her to the Bar C. Though Lawrence Wood kept his eyes fixed on Zach, Harriet suspected the heightened color in his cheeks was caused by Priscilla’s beauty. Harriet couldn’t blame him for being entranced.

  “Lawrence,” he said, correcting Harriet’s formality.

  “I don’t care what they call you,” Zach Webster announced as he clapped Lawrence on the back. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. We need to talk about the rustlers.”

  The former Ranger’s expression sobered. “Did you lose more cattle?” The answer was muffled as Lawrence and Zach headed to the far corner of the room.

  “Men!” The moue Priscilla made only emphasized her beauty. “All they want to talk about is business.”

  “Whereas we women have more important things to discuss—like fashion.” Sarah rejoined them. “Our mercantile has some lovely yard goods and the latest designs,” Sarah added.

  “Does the mercantile also carry school supplies?” Fashion was not Harriet’s topic of choice. Her clothing and her siblings’ were serviceable. If they weren’t dressed in the current style, well . . . it wasn’t as if she were trying to attract a husband. She wasn’t like Mr. Thackeray’s Becky Sharp.

  Almost as if she’d read Harriet’s thoughts about Vanity Fair, Sarah shook her head, but her words revealed that she was responding to Harriet’s question, not her musings. “You don’t need to worry about supplies. The school is well provisioned.” Sarah looked down at the evidence of the baby she carried beneath her heart. “If this one doesn’t keep me awake all night, I’ll meet you at the school tomorrow morning. Now, it’s time to eat.”

  The meal was an enjoyable one, with tasty food and pleasant conversation. Harriet found herself seated between Karl and Lawrence, both of whom kept her engaged in conversation. It was only during the lulls that Harriet noticed how studiously Lawrence avoided looking at Priscilla, who was seated on his other side, and how stilted his responses to her questions were. Unaffected by whatever was causing the constraint between Lawrence and Priscilla, Mary and little Thea chattered at their corner of the table, apparently speaking to Clay’s father, who was confined to a wheeled chair and said even less than Ruth.

  “So, tell me what brought you to Ladreville.” Priscilla leaned forward ever so slightly to address Harriet.

  “I thought everyone knew. I answered Michel Ladre’s advertisement.”

  Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “I knew that. I was simply curious why you wanted to move so far from your home.”

  Harriet took a sip of water as she tried to phrase her reply. “I wanted a better future for my family.” A future where Ruth could overcome her shyness, where Mary had friends, where Daniel and Sam could grow into men, and where Jake would not be tempted to break the law. “There was nothing tying us to Fortune, and Michel Ladre made Ladreville sound very appealing.”

  That was enough about her family. Harriet looked around the table. “I can guess when the Friedrichs arrived, but what about the rest of you? Have you lived here all your lives?”

  Laughter greeted her words. Clay gave his wife a fond glance as he said, “I’m the only one who was born here, but I left, never intending to return. It took Pa’s illness to bring me back and the love of a good woman to keep me here.”

  “I was a mail-order bride,” Sarah admitted.

  Ruth sighed and spoke for the first time in a long while. “How romantic.”

  Sarah’s smile faded. “Clay wasn’t my intended groom. It’s a long story.”

  “Fortunately,” her husband said, “there’s a happy ending.”

  “I came to help Clay’s father run the ranch,” Zach announced, “and wound up with a ranch of my own, not to mention the most beautiful bride in the state of Texas.”

  “I was looking for adventure, never dreaming marriage would be the greatest adventure of all.” The smile Priscilla gave Zach was luminous.

  Harriet smiled too, pleased at how she had diverted attention from herself and her family. Only one person had not joined the discussion. “What about you, Lawrence? What brought you to Ladreville?”

  His eyes darkened, and for a moment Harriet thought he would refuse to answer. When he did, though his lips quirked in a smile, it did not reach his eyes. “I came to build a bridge.”

  As the conversation turned to the merits of spanning the Medina, Harriet felt Lawrence relax. This man, she suspected, had as many secrets as she did. This was not the time to uncover them. Instead, she shot a warning glance at her brothers, who had started to fidget.

  As if he realized how boring bridge construction might be to young boys, Karl asked what they planned to do for the three weeks until school started.

  “Harriet says we need to work,” Daniel announced. “We all have to earn money.”

  “And what would you do to earn money?” Karl asked, stroking his beard again. It was, Harriet had come to believe, an unconscious gesture he made when he was pondering something.

  “Play with the goats.”

  The snicker had come from Lawrence. Harriet glared at him, then turned back to Karl, who was regarding Daniel with apparent seriousness. He, at least, understood children. “Well, son,” Karl said, “I’m afraid I don’t have any goats, but I could use a few strong boys to help with the crops.” He looked at Harriet. “I can’t pay them a lot, but they’d be welcome to have dinner with u
s. That would save you having to cook for them.”

  “That would be fine.” The truth was, even though she’d told the others it was important to earn money, Harriet’s pay would cover their expenses. What she wanted was to ensure that her siblings’ time was gainfully occupied and that they learned the lessons of hard work. This was the start of a new life for all of them, and she intended that life to have a firm foundation. “How soon would you like them to start? Tomorrow?”

  Jake groaned.

  “He’s in love with her.”

  Harriet continued to draw the brush through her sister’s hair in the nightly ritual they’d begun so many years ago. First Harriet would brush and braid Ruth’s hair; then her sister would return the favor. “Which story are you reading now?” In the last year, Ruth had begun to share Harriet’s fascination with books, and the sisters frequently spent a few minutes each evening discussing whatever Ruth had read.

  Ruth started to shake her head, then appeared to think the better of it, since Harriet still wielded the brush. “It’s not a story. Mr. Wood is in love with Priscilla. Didn’t you see the way he wouldn’t look at her? He’s love struck, just like in the books.”

  “Nonsense.” While it was true Harriet had noticed Lawrence’s apparent discomfort, she didn’t want to admit she had considered her sister’s explanation. “It’s more likely they had some kind of disagreement. Besides, Priscilla is married.”

  “That never stopped true love. Think about Lancelot and Guinevere.”

  Harriet began to braid her sister’s hair. “You think about them,” she said more tartly than she had intended. “I’ve got lessons to plan.” The last thing she needed was to think about Lawrence Wood and unrequited love.

  She was still telling herself that an hour later as she slid between the sheets. Why then did she keep picturing a tall blond man with deep blue eyes? It was nonsense. Pure and utter nonsense.