Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series
Page 7
The event had given her something to look forward to upon waking up. Most of the town would be there, Gemma Reed included.
“Those smell delicious,” Elizabeth commented as Ida Rose pulled the piping-hot biscuits from the oven. In the picnic basket on the table, two pies waited, bundled up and ready for the trip into town.
She gave the other woman an appreciative smile. “I am worried they browned a bit too much.”
“No. They’re perfect.” Elizabeth rolled up her apron and tucked it under her arm. She was wearing her best dress to the hotel-raising, but would put the apron on once it was time for the women to roll up their sleeves and work.
Wrapping the biscuits in several napkins to keep them warm, Ida Rose stuffed them into a basket and followed Elizabeth out into the yard. The horses were hitched and ready to go, a stony-faced Tom at their side.
Not even looking at Ida Rose, he helped his mother settle on the front bench. Suppressing a sigh, Ida Rose went around the front of Chestnut and Acorn, meaning to help herself into the wagon.
“I have you,” he suddenly said.
“No,” she hurriedly replied, hoisting herself up. “I am quite fine, thank you.”
His jaw hardened, a deep line forming in his forehead. It was his glowering look.
Ida Rose had come to know it well in just the last twelve hours.
She did not know what he expected. If he was going to ignore her, she would take matters into her own hands. Likely, he had hoped she would ask for his help into the wagon, thereby putting himself in a position of being her hero.
Not today, she smugly thought to herself, wrapping her arms around her basket and staring straight forward.
Tom’s pride was likely hurt from the spat they had and he was looking for her to build it back up again. Men could be that way, she knew.
But Ida Rose did not believe in coddling or stroking peoples’ inflated sense of self. It was up to each individual person to make themselves feel right.
The ride to town passed in relative silence, with Elizabeth and Tom making occasional small talk.
Ida Rose stayed still as a statue, eyes forward and back rod-straight.
The second the wagon stopped in town, she was down and walking for the long tables spread out in the grass behind the old hotel.
The wreckage had been cleared and a basic frame laid down. The plan was to build most of the hotel in one day, save for many of the details. Ida Rose had never heard of such a thing being accomplished, but as there were at least twenty men already there, she imagined it might be possible.
Half of the tables were already laden with bowls of covered food. Behind them, children chased each other around as a dog ran, barking, at their heels.
“Ida Rose!”
Gemma’s warm arms were around her before she had the chance to get a proper look at the other woman.
Wrapping her arms around Gemma’s neck, she gratefully squeezed her back.
“You look divine,” Gemma breathed, standing back and inspecting Ida Rose.
She laughed. “I have been sweating all morning in a hot kitchen.”
“Yes, but your hair.” She delicately touched the braids piled on the back of Ida Rose’s head. “That is a style fit for a queen. I could never do that with mine.”
“My older sister taught me. She is very good with braids.”
“Here. Give me that...” She took the basket and deposited it on a nearby table.
“And tell me everything that has happened since we last saw each other! I know it has only been a day, but now that I have a new friend, I have felt as if I were going mad not seeing her.”
“I understand completely.” Ida Rose sighed.
Over Gemma’s shoulder, she caught sight of Elizabeth chatting with some other ladies. Past her, Tom stepped over the frame of the hotel, inspecting the layout. His eyes flicked up and caught with Ida Rose’s before he quickly looked away.
Ida Rose tried to dissolve the twisting in her heart with a deep breath, but it did no good. “Can I confess in utter confidence with you?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes. Is everything all right?”
The question made Ida Rose feel as if she were on the verge of tears. “I am not sure,” she choked out.
Gemma sympathetically pursed her lips. Snatching up a ladle, she pushed it into Ida Rose’s hand. “Here. Work while you talk. It will make it easier. These potatoes need butter and salt. I’m afraid I am still a horrible cook. Clara should have never allowed me to do this all on my own.”
“It is Tom,” Ida Rose explained, cutting a slice of butter and gently mixing it into the potatoes. She kept her voice low, as there were other women all around them.
“Is he treating you all right?”
“I am afraid it is not that simple.” She hesitated.
Tom had kept the truth about his mother from her, so it seemed unlikely that most people in town knew about it. As frustrated as she was with him, it would be horribly cruel for her to reveal his family secrets to anyone.
How did she ask for advice when she could not be completely honest?
“He asked me to do something,” she slowly said. “And I neglected to. Well, not entirely… I merely forgot about it for a while. When he found out, he became rather angry. And something bad could have happened because of it. I understand that now, but I did not know at the time...”
She put the potatoes back on the table, afraid she was doing a terrible job of explaining the situation.
“Hm.” Gemma’s lips twisted as she thought. “There are almost no details in that story for me to use.”
“I am sorry,” Ida Rose moaned. “I can’t speak of everything right now. I wish I could.”
Gemma held her palm up. “That is fine. I understand that. Every husband and wife has their secrets.”
“If this is how our engagement is starting, Thomas Adkins and I are going to make a terrible husband and wife,” Ida Rose muttered.
“My husband and I had trouble getting along at first.”
“Truly? You did not like him?”
Gemma opened her mouth, shut it, and winked. “It is a bit more complicated than that. I liked the… sight of him. But there were rougher sides of his demeanor that irritated me.”
“Ah.” Ida Rose’s own face grew warm.
She had spoken with her sisters many times about men, usually in the darkness of their room after their parents had gone to bed, but the conversation she was having with Gemma seemed to be of a new caliber—a more mature one.
They were not young girls giggling over the boy selling oranges on the corner. They were grown women—one married and one about to be.
“What I am saying,” Gemma methodically explained, “Is that every relationship has its tribulations. If you are lucky and persistent, then you persevere through them.”
“I like to think of myself as persistent, but I am not sure about the lucky part.”
“You met me, didn’t you?” Gemma saucily asked. “That is lucky.”
Ida Rose laughed. “You were trouble when you were younger, weren’t you?”
Gemma dramatically blinked her eyes. “What are you talking of? Younger? My dear, I am not a day past fifteen. How dare you!”
Giggles overcame them both. They stood there, laughing, until a gray-haired lady sent them a sour look.
“Goodness,” Gemma said under her breath. “It is a hotel-raising, not church. Let us enjoy ourselves a bit before we die.”
“She is just jealous that you have found the fountain of youth and will be fifteen forever,” Ida Rose whispered with another laugh.
Nearby, the work on the hotel had fully begun, with lots of banging and shouting filling the air. The two women stopped talking for a moment to watch.
From the corner of her eye, Ida Rose spotted Elizabeth cutting slices of pie. She was good and safe.
For now, anyway. Ida Rose would have to be sure to keep her eye on her.
“See that man there?” Gemma as
ked, nodding at the brown-haired one nailing two boards together. “That is my husband.”
Ida Rose watched him for a minute, until she feared she was on the verge of staring. “He is very handsome.”
“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Gemma smiled. “He can be a handful. I think all men can. I love him dearly, though. I would be nothing without him… Truly.”
Gemma’s voice had softened as she talked about her husband. She was now gazing at him as if in a trance. Her eyes wet, a gentle smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
That is what love looks like, Ida Rose realized.
“Mr. Adkins seems like a good man.” Gemma had finally stopped watching her husband and turned back to Ida Rose.
“He is,” she admitted.
“Then, no matter what is happening between the two of you, there is a lot of hope.” She firmly nodded. “And you are a strong woman. I know that much. With God’s help, even the most difficult problems can be resolved.”
Ida Rose remembered those minutes trapped in the general store. She had prayed so hard, asking God to get them out of there.
But what she had asked Him for the most was strength. She knew He had a will she was not always privy to. Sometimes, situations could not be changed.
Although they seemed like tragedies to those involved, how could they be that with God in charge?
“You are right,” she agreed. “With God’s help, anything can become better.”
Gemma grinned. “I possess the face of a fifteen-year-old, but the mind of a one-hundred-year old.”
“Well, thank you very much for sharing your ancient wisdom, oh Wisest One.”
As she finished talking, a strange sensation struck Ida Rose between the shoulder blades. It felt as if someone were poking her there.
Turning around, she saw Tom walking by, a pile of boards on his shoulders.
When he saw her looking, he dropped his face to the ground. This time, though, she did not feel disheartened.
She had remembered an important truth.
Anything—anything—was possible.
10
10. Tom
Chapter Ten
The reverend’s deep voice echoed through the church, filling the hungry pit in Tom’s stomach.
If only he could always feel as at peace as he did in prayer or out in the fields. He would never have another sad moment in his life again.
With the “amen” echoing through the air, people rose from their seats and began moving for the door. Despite the exhausting day spent building the hotel, almost everyone who usually attended service was there.
Tom waited where he was, allowing his mother and Ida Rose to go down the aisle first.
As he watched Ida Rose slowly step behind the elderly woman in front of her, her blue dress changed into a white one.
A veil sprouted and fell over her face and a bouquet of wildflowers grew in her hands.
The last two days had been difficult, but he still could not wait to marry her. Sadly, though, he did not know if she felt the same way.
He had angered her just as much as she angered him. He wondered if his mother and father had ever fought in such a way and if such a quarrel was a bad omen for their marriage.
Things had to be made right. Soon.
But how? What should he do? He knew he was in the right about what had happened. Ida Rose should have stayed at the house with his mother. But how did he get her to see that so they could move on?
Outside the church, the women gathered on one side of the yard and the men on the other.
Tom started to fetch the horses and wagon, but thought better of it. His mother looked happy, chatting away. She certainly didn’t get enough time with others, so between the hotel-raising and church, this was a special weekend for her.
“Tom Adkins.”
Mitchell Reed strode up to him, tipping his hat as he did so.
“How are you doing, Mitch?” Tom asked, shaking the other man’s hand.
“Fine. I’ve been hearing non-stop about your fiancée. Gemma has made herself a new best friend.”
“She has?”
He looked over at Ida Rose, a pang of jealousy hitting him. Whereas it sounded like Gemma filled Mitch in on the details of her life, the exact opposite was true with himself and Ida Rose.
He took partial responsibility for the disparity, but that didn’t make the truth hurt any less.
“Everything good?”
Mitch’s voice pulled Tom back to the present moment.
“Uh, yes. Fine, fine.” He crossed his arms and looked away, then instantly regretted lying. “Truthfully, no. Things are hard right now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Tom licked his lips, nervous to be talking so openly, but really feeling he needed some advice. Not only was Mitch married, he was older than Tom and had more experience with the ways of women.
“We aren’t getting along as well as I would like,” he admitted. “We had an argument and haven’t been talking much since. I don’t quite know what to do now.”
“Huh.” Mitch put his hands on his hips and frowned. “Did you say you’re sorry yet?”
Tom stared at him in confusion. He wasn’t even going to ask what the fight had been about?
“Did you?” Mitch asked again.
“I...” He thought back to the other day in the stable. Had he apologized?
“I don’t have anything to apologize for,” he defended himself.
Mitch guffawed. “There’s your problem right there. It takes two to fight, Tom.”
Tom let out a huff of air. This wasn’t the kind of advice he’d been expecting to get. “She did something that wasn’t right and she just refuses to see my way.”
“If you apologize, then the chance that she’ll come around and agree with you is a lot greater. Women need men to show them that they care.” He smirked. “According to Gemma, no attention is too much.”
“Hm.” Tom swallowed that idea down. It didn’t taste very good, but if it worked…
“Ida Rose is still adjusting. Just coming to a new home, a place where you don’t know a soul, is hard enough. And then, on top of that, to be caught in an earthquake… She could have died in that. It would be foolish to think it’s not on her mind every day.”
Realization struck Tom. He’d been a fool, only focusing on his troubles. Life was hard with an ailing mother. But Ida Rose had to carry the same burden now, plus more. He hadn’t been fair to her at all.
“I need to say I’m sorry,” he breathed, awe-struck.
Mitch tipped his hat. “Good to hear. See you.”
He left for his horse and Tom hurried to get his own wagon. He was going to take Mitch’s advice, but everything had to be done in the right way. Ida Rose needed to know he truly cared for her. Simple words wouldn’t get that job done. He needed something bigger.
The ride home was just as quiet as the one into town had been, but this time, Tom wasn’t mulling over everything that had gone wrong—he was busy figuring out how to make it all right.
“Mother, how are you feeling?” he asked as the team pulled into the farmyard. “How about you take a nap before we eat?”
“I have to get the ham out,” she protested.
“Don’t worry about that. You go rest.”
She smiled warmly at him. “I think I will, Tommy. But don’t go getting into the gingerbread. That’s for dessert.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
Ida Rose started to follow her into the house, but Tom stopped her by seizing her wrist. “Come walk with me.”
She warily inspected his face. “What about Elizabeth?”
“She’s taking a nap. She will be fine for a short while.”
Ida Rose looked uncertain, but she nodded. “I will be right out after I take the ham from the cook stove.”
When she emerged from the house, he started walking right away. “There is something I want to show you.”
“All right.” Her words we
re flat, emotionless.
They showed Tom what their argument had really done to her.
Bitter words had created space between them—and just when they were only beginning to get to know each other. It wouldn’t do at all.