“Emma, what are you doing under there? You’re supposed to be in bed!” Ellen pulled Emma out from under the table, where she’d crouched in her nightie, holding Gus.
“I wanted to hear the stories,” she protested. “And I’m not tired at all.”
“Some of those stories you’d be better off not hearing,” her mother said. “Now off to bed with you.”
Indeed, the stories were captivating. Maggie had enjoyed listening to the men talk while they’d had their after-supper cigarettes and coffee. They had spun some tall tales. She was sure that’s what a lot of them were, just tall tales. She hadn’t realized before what a good sense of humor farmers had. She guessed they probably needed an outlet when faced with a life dependent on weather and fickle fate.
Marshall held his own with storytelling and once or twice, when she’d replenished a bowl of vegetables, he’d glanced up at her and smiled as if including her in the conversation. She was beginning to think his bad mood the day he’d met her had nothing to do with her resemblance to the last teacher.
Maggie told Ellen to go join Ray in bed, and she’d finish cleaning up. That Ellen agreed meant she truly was tired. At least tomorrow would be the last of the crops on the Thornhill farm, and then there was one more farm to harvest.
Thank goodness, the weatherman appeared to be on the side of the farmers this year.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Maggie gave the table one last swipe with a dishcloth, the door opened and Marshall appeared. A startled look swept over his face.
“Oh, sorry. I thought everyone had gone to bed. I just came for a last cup of coffee.”
“We have. I mean, they have. I was just finishing up.” Why did this man always tie her tongue in knots? To give herself time to gain composure, she grabbed a clean cup, poured some coffee for him, and set it on the table. He sat down casually and stirred the sugar she’d added to his cup.
Maggie bit the side of her lip and plunged in, partly because she wanted answers and partly just to say something to cover her confusion. “So why didn’t you stay on the farm? Don’t sons usually take over?”
He gave her an amused look. “You never give up with your questions, do you? Well, let’s see if I can satisfy that curiosity bug of yours.” He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its rear legs, and closed his eyes for a moment. “When our parents died, Ellen was already married to Ray, and I was turning eighteen. That was when the war came. Ray couldn’t join up because he’s always had weak lungs. That’s why he keeps getting those bouts of pneumonia. But I was young and idealistic, so I enlisted. Ray and Ellen moved in and ran the farm. When the war finally ended, I was restless, like so many others, and I wandered around the country for a bit before coming back to Timber. Ray and Ellen had put so much into the place, and I wasn’t anxious to become a farmer, so they bought out my share. I started the lumberyard with a friend, and here we are.” With a bang, he bounced the chair back to an upright position. “Does that answer all your questions?”
“All but one.”
He stood and set his cup down, as if to show he’d given her all the time he would allot her. “What might that be?”
“Why do you dislike me?”
He gave her a long, slow look. “Yes, I can see you’re one of those people who needs to have everyone like them.”
She flushed and was about to protest when he moved closer and said, “The short answer is I don’t dislike you.”
He put one arm around her shoulders, turning her to face him, and leaned down to kiss her, gently at first and then with a ferocity that shook loose all her feelings for this intriguing man and replaced them with sensations she had never felt before. Warmth swept through her very essence. Just as she felt she was going to fall over the edge of a cliff, he released her, swung around so quickly she couldn’t see his expression, and walked out the door.
Maggie climbed the stairs in a daze. She sat in the old chair in front of her dresser for a long time, staring at her image in the mirror as if it could give her answers. Now the only questions she had were for herself.
Why had she pushed him? She could have just ignored Marshall for the length of time she was here. Instead, she goaded him whenever she could and probed for his sore spots. Had she been asking for the reaction she got? Deciding she didn’t want to know the answers, she undressed and slipped under the quilt.
There was a lump in the corner beside her pillow. It turned out to be Gus, and it looked as though he’d adopted her bed as his night-time retreat. She stroked him for a few minutes until he began purring loudly, then she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
“Mommy, Mommy, put my lily on next, please.” Emma handed a paper flower to her mother, who was covering a shoebox with brightly colored decorations.
Ellen smiled and, after adding a dab of glue to the back, pasted the crayon-colored lily in place, right in the center of the box. “Now we just need some ribbons. Then we start on yours.” The last comment was directed to Maggie.
“I don’t think I need one. I’m not sure I’ll be going.”
“Of course you’re going. Everyone’s going.”
“You have to go,” Emma echoed.
Maggie couldn’t refuse them both. “But what will I put in the box?”
“The same as we’ll put in mine—sandwiches, cake, pie. You’ll enjoy it once you get there,” Ellen reassured her. “You’ve already met most of the people at church and school. No one takes the boxes seriously. It’s just a way to raise money for extra supplies for the school. Everyone brings lots of food because the younger and the older people don’t always bring a box. Everyone shares.”
Emma piped up. “But when someone buys your box, you have to dance the first dance with him, and you have to sit with him for lunch and share.”
Maggie felt a little alarmed at the prospect.
Ellen said, “Everyone sits together, anyhow. The only ones who treat it as a couples thing are the young people. Whoever buys my box, for instance, will sit not only with me, but with Ray and Emma too.”
“Uncle Marshall says he’s going to buy yours, Mom. He says that way, he doesn’t need to worry about sitting with some silly young girl.”
“Emma, I’m sure he said nothing of the kind.”
“Well, not exactly. But he did ask me to tell him what decorations yours had.”
Maggie knew the women wrote their names on the inside of the box lids so no one knew whose they were buying until they opened it. She also knew from stories she’d heard that young ladies gave hints to boys they liked.
Maggie wasn’t looking forward to the box social, but she felt more comfortable now, knowing she wouldn’t have to sit in solitary confinement with some junior Lothario. Ouch. Now she sounded like Marshall.
She chose her soft blue dress with the tiny cornflowers on the bodice, knowing it showed off her bosom and small waist in an attractive way, yet was still modest enough for the occasion. She knew the teacher was always on display at gatherings, so she wanted to look her best.
At least, that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t about to admit that she wanted to see that flicker of admiration in Marshall’s eyes-the one she saw just before he kissed her. She’d relived that night often in her dreams.
Neither of them had mentioned the kiss since. She almost thought it had been just a dream. But Marshall’s attitude toward her had thawed, and he no longer eyed her with that cold disapproving look he’d greeted her with at the train station.
She only wished Marshall were more forthcoming in conversation. Even though they were thrown into each other’s company every day, he still rarely spoke. Every time their eyes met, she was afraid she was reading things that weren’t there—merely a reflection of her growing interest in him.
She gave her head a shake. Interest in him? What interest? One would almost think she considered him the man of her dreams, not just someone she didn’t want to dislike her.
Well, let’
s face it. I am interested in him. No man had ever kissed her in that hungry way before, and no man had ever sparked a response of such magnitude in her. She wished Dora was here. She could ask her if that’s the way she felt when David kissed her. It wasn’t something she could write in a letter.
She giggled as she pictured her mother reading aloud her daughter’s account of being kissed quite satisfactorily by a man they’d never met.
CHAPTER TEN
Marshall drove his sister, her family, and Maggie to the Box Social. Ray had wanted to stay home, but the rest of the family ganged up on him and assured him they would sit at a corner table where his casted leg would be out of the way and wouldn’t trip anyone.
The community hall was decorated with fresh flowers and dried shoots of grain from the harvest. Ribbons and crepe paper made the room look quite festive. Maggie took note of everything, as this was where she would stage the school’s Christmas concert later in the year.
Ray shooed them to a table out of the way. Everyone knew everyone else, of course, and no one isolated themselves at their table. The piano on the stage already had a volunteer player at the keys, pounding out some war tunes.
By the time the box auction started, Maggie began to unwind. It was the first time she had met Gary and Gerry’s parents, as well as some of the others, and she was enjoying the friendly greetings they all had for “Teacher”. Marshall had disappeared from sight, no doubt talking to old friends. She was annoyed with herself for the stray glances she gave the crowd, looking for his tall figure.
Marshall appeared at their table, lily box in hand.
“That’s your box, Teacher,” Emma said.
“No, that’s your mother’s. See, it has the lily on the top.”
“Uh, uh.” Emma giggled and covered her mouth, squirming in her seat.
He opened the cover, flashed Maggie a look, and said, “Miss Lawrence, I think you owe me the first dance.”
“But—”
“No buts. See?” He showed the tag with her name on the underside of the cover. Emma giggled even louder.
The pianist was joined by a violin and a guitar. They had just finished a lively reel and were now playing the first notes of We’ll Meet Again.
With a sudden sense of belonging, Maggie slipped into Marshall’s arms. She basked in the feeling, wordless for a time, then lifted her face to his. She was surprised to see him smiling.
“The box with the lily on top was supposed to be Ellen’s,” she began.
“I know, but my enterprising niece thought it would be fun to switch things around.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t go the way you planned.”
“Who says they didn’t? I knew about the switch all along.”
“How?”
“Emma is a bit of a schemer, but she isn’t old enough to know the art of subtlety. I could tell by all the giggles and little digs she was making on the way to the social.”
Maggie had missed those, sitting in the back seat with Ray. She was glad she had, because if she had known Emma sabotaged the boxes, she would have died of embarrassment the whole time.
Now she just gave herself up to the feeling of being in Marshall’s arms—the new Marshall. Where had the disapproving, silent one gone? She opened her mouth to ask why he had changed from the first day they’d met, but in an unusual display of reticence, she closed it quickly. Better to enjoy the moment. She didn’t want to stumble into something that might change him back.
They danced two more songs together and when he brought her back to the table, Maggie was flushed with exertion and probably, she admitted to herself, pleasure.
Emma met them with more giggles. One of the twins, Gary—she knew by the freckle and mole markers she’d noted the first day of school—came to ask Teacher to dance. He blushed and stammered a little, but once on the floor he was surprisingly light on his feet. Two of the parents asked her for dances, and the next thing she knew, the evening was winding down and they were announcing the last dance.
Marshall appeared at her side and claimed her once again. He guided her to the door, where he swung her outside. The music was still loud enough to dance to, but she quickly realized they’d stopped dancing. He lowered his face to hers and, holding her close, kissed her as he had the night of the threshing supper.
The answering passion was rising in her, but he suddenly pulled back, looking at her with an unreadable expression.
Confused, she lowered her gaze and said, “I’d better go help with the cleanup. Ellen will be looking for me.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Marshall said. “But go ahead. Just don’t forget where we left off.” He took her arm and led her back in as casually as if the kiss had never happened.
The ride home was quiet. Everyone was tired. Emma sat in the back with Maggie and Ray and fell asleep curled up against her father.
Maggie wondered again at Emma’s statement. If it’s a boy, Daddy won’t love me anymore. She looked at Ray’s face. All she could see was love and gentleness as he stroked Emma’s hair, pulling it back from where it covered her eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
By Sunday, everything appeared back to normal, although Maggie increasingly wondered just what normal was supposed to be in this household. They went to church and came home to a cold lunch.
However, before Maggie could eat, Marshall came looking for her, saying, “Come on, we’re going for a drive.”
Instead of asking where, she allowed him to shepherd her into the car, and they drove off down the lane.
After a few minutes of silent driving, they turned onto the highway, retracing the route that had brought her here from Timber. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be quiet that long before.” He grinned and continued. “I’m going to show you around Timber—show you where I work. Then we’re going to have a picnic by the lake.”
“But I didn’t bring any food.”
“I did. Look in the back.”
Sure enough, on the back seat was a basket covered with a dishtowel.
“Compliments of Ellen,” he said.
Maggie was beginning to think the entire Thornhill family was conspiring against her. Or was it for her?
They drove into Timber and instead of turning down Main Street, they took a street that angled off the highway and pulled into a yard piled with lumber of every length and type.
“This is my business. Well, mine and Joshua’s. What do you think?”
“There must be enough wood there to build a hundred houses. Do you just sell it or do you build with it?”
“A bit of both. I learned carpentry before I came back to Timber to settle. Joshua is an electrician, among other things, so we do some building. But mostly we sell the lumber. Timber is a do-it-yourself kind of town. Most of our customers are farmers who need materials to build granaries, sheds, and barns.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You’re supposed to be.” He reminded her of one of her pupils, out to make a good impression on her. This was a totally new side of Marshall, one she found endearing.
They continued driving down Main, and he pointed out the stores to her. It was the first time she’d seen Timber since she’d arrived. Ellen and Ray went into town for supplies on Saturdays, but Maggie preferred to remain on the farm to catch up on schoolwork and letters, and enjoy some reading.
Now she decided that next Saturday she’d tag along and do some shopping with them. Everything was closed today, since it was Sunday.
They drove down other streets lined with houses. He pointed one out to her. It was an older, two-story white house with a slightly ramshackle fence surrounding it. The edge was taken off the old fence by a hedge of caraganas and lilac bushes, and she could see through to the back, where some flower beds followed the fence line. Pretty, but badly in need of tending.
“It’s mine,” he said. “Needs some work.”
That was understandable, considering the hours he put in
at the farm. But why would he show her where he lived? Then she blushed as she pondered its significance.
Should she think he was suggesting they might have a future together? She rejected that thought as premature. Yes, he’d kissed her-twice-and had lost his earlier coolness, but that didn’t mean this was anything more than a friendly tour of the town.
They drove along some more tree-lined streets. He pointed out Joshua’s house as well—a newer build with a white fence and well-tended lawn. Then he turned onto another main road leading out of town. It wound around a corner. On the left was a small lake with grassy strips along the north shore. A small lane led them to a parking spot, where he turned off the car.
Marshall unloaded the picnic supplies, and Maggie followed with the plaid blanket. A few children played in the sand, but no one was in the water. An older couple sat on a bench, and a younger couple—probably the parents of the playing children—sat closer to the beach. Marshall led the way to a secluded spot higher up on the grass, verging on a copse of trees.
Maggie looked across the small lake. “It seems awfully quiet for such a pretty place.”
“Don’t let pretty deceive you.” Did Maggie imagine a slight edge to his voice? “There have been problems with the lake. You can’t swim in the water. It causes an itch. Still, it’s a nice place to picnic.” He smiled down at her, and she thought she must have been mistaken about the brittle tone she’d heard in his voice.
Ellen had packed a magnificent lunch. When had she found the time to do that? They ate cold chicken from last night’s supper, drank coffee from a thermos, and finished off with strawberry-rhubarb pie.
Maggie leaned back against the tree trunk and sighed with happiness.
“Do you remember?” Marshall asked.
“Remember what?”
“Where we left off last night?” He pulled her to her feet, and as he kissed her, he held her so firmly that she thought she would shatter.
Autumn Dreams Page 3