“I’ve heard that when a Scotsmen is in regimental dress, he wears nothing beneath his kilt,” Jennifer explained with a devilish smile.
Lizzie paused halfway to the doorway. “Oh, really? I shall have to remember that.”
“Why do I even try?” Megan muttered.
“Beats me,” Lisa said with a grin.
“Well? Was he, Lizzie?”
A light rose blush colored the little knitter’s round cheek. Kelly spied a distinct twinkle in her eye as well. “It was green, dear,” she said simply and headed for the doorway.
Kelly dropped her scarf. Mimi choked on her tea. Unflappable Lisa’s mouth fell open, while Megan sank her head into her hand. Even Jennifer appeared at a loss for words, for a split second.
“Green?” she called out. “Lizzie, get back here!”
“Make her stop,” Megan pleaded.
“Can’t be done.”
Kelly turned at the strangled sound of laughter behind her and saw Burt, red-faced, bent over his wheel, wiping his eyes. “You okay back there, Burt?”
“Oh . . . yeah . . .” he rasped and coughed. “But I spun a knot in my yarn.”
“You asked something, dear?” Lizzie leaned around the corner.
“Did you say green?” Jennifer said, eyes alight.
“Yes, dear. His underwear was shamrock green.” And she disappeared around the corner again.
Soft laughter bubbled around the table, as Kelly tucked away the last tiny strand of yarn. She held up her new creation and admired it all over again.
“I can’t follow a great line like that,” Jennifer said, stuffing her nearly finished sweater into the tote bag. “Time for me to get back to work. See you guys later.”
Megan checked her watch. “Me, too. I’ve got to finish a tech article for this new client. I’m really trying to impress them so I can snag that account.” She grabbed her knitting and shoved it into her bag as she rose to leave. “See you later.”
Mimi rose as well, balancing her empty tea cup. “I’ll check in with Hilda and see if her students need any help.” Glancing to Kelly, she added, “Kelly, now that you know how to knit, you can sign up for Hilda’s next sweater class. She’s a wonderful teacher.”
“Whoa, I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” Kelly hedged. “Sweaters look a lot harder than my easy scarf.”
“You can do it,” Lisa declared. “Pull out that first piece you were working on and start knitting. Get used to the smaller needles again. Then, we’ll teach you how to do the stockinette. That’s what you’ll need for Hilda’s beginning class.”
“Stockinette? Is it hard?” Kelly asked, dubious already.
“No, not after you learn to purl,” Mimi said as she headed toward the classroom. “I’ll teach you how in just a minute. Let me check on Hilda first.”
“Purl? I have to purl? Why can’t I just knit?”
“Because that’s how you do stockinette,” Lisa explained. “You knit one row, then purl the next. And that makes this nice pattern, see?” She placed the scrumptious coral sweater on the table and pointed to the pattern. “That’s called stockinette, and it’s great for sweaters.”
Kelly ran her fingers over the silk and cotton yarn, admiring the smooth interlocking stitches. “That is pretty. At least yours is pretty. I’m not sure mine will be.”
“Hey, you’ll do fine. You’re a fast learner,” Lisa encouraged and sat down again. “Now, take out your first piece and start knitting.”
Digging into her own tote bag, Kelly found her homely first effort. She nearly flinched when she saw it. Compared to her pretty scarf, it was downright ugly. “Boy, these needles feel small now,” she said.
“Start knitting. It’ll come back. You were doing fine before.”
Kelly did as she was told and proceeded to knit, slowly at first until the smaller needles and yarn started to feel familiar once more. Soon, she’d finished a row, then another. That peaceful feeling she remembered returned as well, heightened by the warmth of the morning sunlight streaming through the windows and the hum of Burt’s spinning wheel.
“They’re all doing a great job in there,” Mimi announced when she returned. “Oh, good, you’ve gone back to your knitting.”
“Oh Lisa’s orders,” Kelly joked.
Mimi sat beside her and scooted her chair closer. “Oh, good, you’re at the end of a row. Now, if you’ll give it to me for a moment, I’ll show you the purl stitch.”
Kelly handed it over and leaned forward to watch. “Go slowly, please.”
“I will. Now, with the knit stitch you slid the right needle to the left of the stitch. Well, purling is the opposite.”
“Opposite?” Kelly complained. “That’ll mix me up, won’t it?”
Mimi smiled. “You’ll get the hang of it. First, the yarn goes in front of the needle, not behind as it did with the knit stitch. Then, the needle goes to the right of the stitch. Then, you wrap the yarn and slip the stitch like before.” She moved slowly through each of the maneuvers over and over.
Kelly peered suspiciously as the new stitches moved from the left needle to the right. The whole maneuver was backward. Great. She had enough trouble going forward. And just when she thought she was getting the hang of knitting.
“And you’ll have to tighten the stitches a little, too,” Mimi continued. “Now, you try.” She held out the yarn.
“Oh, brother, backward knitting,” Kelly muttered as she reluctantly took the needles.
“You want that sweater?” Lisa challenged.
“You’ll be able to do it,” Mimi reassured. “It’s easier than you think.”
“Easy for you,” Kelly joked as she started to replicate Mimi’s movements—very slowly. Once again, the needles felt clumsy and awkward as she completed the new movements. But gradually the motions got smoother. Somehow she completed one row. Amazing.
“Great,” Mimi enthused, rising from her chair again. “See? I knew you could do it. You were the only one doubting yourself. I’ll check on you in a little bit.” And she scurried from the room, heading toward the front of the shop.
Noticing the increase in customers browsing through the adjacent room, Kelly figured the sweater class had ended and now everyone was shopping. She glanced toward two young women, conferring beside the crates of wool, silk, and mohair. They squeezed the bundles as much as she did, Kelly noticed.
“Lisa, that’s a particularly fetching color for you,” a woman’s deep voice boomed.
Kelly saw Lizzie’s older sister, Hilda, stride into the room. As tall and broad as Lizzie was diminutive and plump, Hilda’s raw-boned features were in sharp contrast to Lizzie’s delicate ones. It always startled Kelly to see them side by side; they were so different, yet they were sisters.
“Thank you, Hilda. I’m finishing up now,” Lisa said, then glanced toward Kelly. “Kelly wants to join your next sweater class. She’s dying to make the same sweater.” Lisa held up the gorgeous coral creation. It was beautiful. Short-sleeved, pretty pattern. Perfect for spring and summer, too, Kelly thought enviously.
“Excellent,” Hilda decreed, approaching Kelly. “I see you’ve finished your scarf, Kelly. It’s lovely. You’ve obviously mastered the knit stitch.”
“Well, I don’t know if mastered is an accurate term, but I am better than I was,” Kelly admitted, purling away.
“Hmmm, what exactly are you knitting now?” Hilda asked, peering suspiciously at Kelly’s practice piece.
Kelly glanced up, unable to stop the feeling she’d been called to the front of the class by the teacher for doing something wrong. “It’s my practice piece,” she admitted, a little embarrassed. “Mimi just taught me to purl.”
“Ahhhhh,” Hilda replied. “That explains it. Keep going, my girl. Practice stockinette next, and you’ll be ready for my class.”
She gathered up the binder she’d placed o
n the table and turned as if to leave. Kelly was actually relieved. Hilda’s presence was a bit overwhelming.
Suddenly Hilda spun about and boomed in her loud almost basso voice, “I almost forgot, Kelly. How is Helen’s cousin, Martha, doing? She ran away like a little mouse after the services. I never had the chance to inquire after her.”
“She’s doing well,” Kelly ventured, carefully choosing her words to protect Martha’s privacy. “She doesn’t really feel comfortable with strangers, that’s why she avoids people. But, she’s actually quite nice. I got to spend some time with her last week.”
“That was thoughtful of you, Kelly. You’re a good girl. Helen would be grateful, I’m sure,” Hilda declared. “If you see Martha again, please tell her to call us if she needs help of any kind.”
Kelly looked into Hilda’s rugged stern face with its strong craggy features. A masculine face, really. She imagined Hilda must have found it hard to be the ungainly, almost ugly, sister of delicate, demure, and pretty little Lizzie.
“Why, thank you, Hilda. I’ll tell Martha. In fact, I thought I’d drop over there tonight and check on her. See if she needs anything. Her left arm is somewhat paralyzed, and she has trouble doing things. I plan to help her when I can.”
Hilda walked over and gave Kelly a strong pat on her shoulder. More like a good thump than a pat. “Good girl,” she repeated. “Well, I must be off. Good day, everyone.” And she swept from the room.
“Are you going over after dinner?” Lisa inquired.
“Probably. I have to finish this one account first. Hopefully, I’ll finish by dinnertime.” The clock insider her head prodded Kelly to check her watch. “Which reminds me, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she added as she stuffed her practice piece into her bag and rose.
“Not tomorrow. I’m swamped with appointments all day. But, we’ve got practice tomorrow night at the ball field. I’ll see you then.”
Practice . Kelly hadn’t heard that word in a long time. It felt good. Outside. Sun setting over the foothills. Oh, yeah. She’d be there. “At the same field?” she asked, wrapping her new scarf around her neck despite the warm temperatures.
“No, actually, we’re practicing on the junior high fields at the corner of Stover and Perkins. On the east side of town. Seven o’clock. And we usually go into Old Town afterward.” Lisa said. “It’s gonna be summer before you know it.”
Summer. Kelly felt the word run all the way through her, leaving a warmth like a ray of sunshine. “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”
Suppressing all desire to touch and squeeze fibers and fabrics, Kelly hurried from the shop. Nearly eleven. She needed to get on task. This telecommuting was fine as long as she kept track of her time. Tick tock inside her head.
As she scampered down the steps toward the driveway, she noticed a man step out of his car and wave. “Well, hello, Ms. Flynn. I just stopped by to see you,” Alan Gretsky called out and headed toward her, bright smile in place.
Great, Kelly thought, suppressing a frown. She wanted to get back to work, but she owed it to herself to hear what the realtor had to say. After all, she would be selling the cottage someday, wouldn’t she? That question niggled in the back of her mind then darted away. “Hello, Mr. Gretsky,” she managed.
“Ms. Flynn, I’ve got great news for you,” Gretsky declared, clapping his hands together. “I’ve been discussing your property with my out-of-town client, and they are extremely interested in purchasing. And when I told them the particulars of the present loan arrangement, they were undeterred, Ms. Flynn. Undeterred,” he repeated as if it were a new word.
Gretsky fairly reeked with enthusiasm. His eyes danced with excitement, his suntanned face glowed, and he looked ready to dance in place. Kelly couldn’t help but smile. It was hard not to like such a friendly fellow, especially when he wanted to give you money. “What exactly does that mean, Mr. Gretsky?” she asked.
“My clients want to make you an above-market offer on your property, Ms. Flynn. Above market,” emphasizing the repeated word this time.
Kelly held her smile in check. “How much above market?”
Gretsky folded his arms across his chest and grinned wider, if that was possible. “Thirty thousand above market, Ms. Flynn. That should more than cover your expanded loan plus penalties and fees. More than enough.”
Her mouth dropped open. Kelly couldn’t help it. The amount shocked her. “What? Why would anyone pay that much money for this little piece of land and the cottage?”
Clearly enjoying her reaction, Gretsky rocked back on his heels. “The buyers have their reasons, Ms. Flynn. This land would be perfect for some high-end townhomes beside the golf course. Those are very popular nowadays.”
Kelly stared across to the quaint little cottage. Thirty thousand over market. That meant she could pay off the entire loan, including the extra twenty thousand Helen had borrowed. And pay off the penalties, too. She wouldn’t even have to dip into her meager savings. The idea was tempting, she had to admit.
“And, I believe they can be persuaded to pay your closing costs, too, Ms. Flynn,” Gretsky added. “I took the liberty of mentioning the unfortunate situation with your aunt’s demise and, well, they said they’d help you any way they could.”
“Boy, that’s a lot to think about, Mr. Gretsky,” she said, shaking her head. “I hope they’re not in a hurry for a decision.”
“I think they’re willing to wait for a while. Shall I tell them you would seriously consider their purchase offer?”
Even though part of her fought the idea, the accountant in Kelly responded, “An offer like that is definitely worth consideration, Mr. Gretsky.”
She’d be a fool not to. All of the financial concerns that had bedeviled her for the last few weeks would be gone in a twinkling. She could return to her former life. Everything would be back to normal. Why didn’t that feel better?
Gretsky nodded knowingly. “I was hoping you’d say that, Ms. Flynn. I’ll tell my buyers. You have a good day now.” He tipped his fingers to his forehead in a mini-salute and returned to his shiny black Lexus.
Kelly watched him drive away and wondered why such good news didn’t feel better. Why didn’t she feel better?
Thirteen
“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you while I’m here?” Kelly asked, succumbing to the familiarity of Uncle Jim’s overstuffed armchair. She let herself sink in.
“No, dear, but thank you for asking,” Martha replied, rocking in her straight-backed rocker. “I may take you up on the offer later, though. Mr. Chambers notified me the other day that my late husband’s estate was nearly finished probate. And when it is, I’ll be able to retrieve some of my treasured family possessions.” She sipped her tea as a worried frown pinched her face. “I can’t imagine Ralph would’ve sold my family keepsakes. Lord, I hope not. They’re of no value, except to me.”
Glancing about Martha’s tidy but sparsely furnished living room, Kelly tried not to slosh the tea in her cup. “Did you have a large house in Wyoming? If so, we can bring back some of the furniture.” Giving in to a smile, she added, “It’s a little Spartan here, Martha. I’m sure you’d feel more comfortable with your family keepsakes on the shelves.”
Martha nodded. “You’re right, it is, and I would like to see my family pictures on the mantle once again. And my china.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh my, Kelly, I had some beautiful pieces I’d collected over the years. Goodness knows if they’re still there. And my quilts. Oh my, yes. Mustn’t forget those. Wedding ring, Dresden plate, little Dutch girl,” she murmured as she rocked.
“Don’t worry, Martha,” Kelly reassured. “We’ll retrieve them all as soon as Mr. Chambers says we can. How far away is it? Were you in Cheyenne?”
“No, we were farther west, almost to Laramie.”
“Is it a large house? We may need to rent a m
oving van.”
“Oh my, I can’t imagine needing that much, really. I’ve learned to do with a lot less these past few years.” Her gaze shifted toward the lace-curtained windows. “It’s a good-sized house, Kelly, indeed it is. We can probably give most of the furniture to the church. Or, the Sisters of Charity. Yes, they could sell what they don’t need and keep the proceeds. Now, as for the equipment outside, well, I guess we’ll just have to have an auction?”
“Equipment? What kind of equipment?”
“Why, all the ranch equipment, naturally. We had more than three hundred acres when I left. And about five hundred head of cattle. Mr. Chambers said he’d hired on some folks to manage the place until all this is settled. I don’t know what I’d do without that man.” She shook her head. “Mr. Chambers has handled every little detail so I don’t have to. Even drew up a will for me. Goodness, I’ve never had a will.”
“He certainly is thorough,” Kelly agreed. “You said he’d hired ranch hands?”
“Oh my, yes. Livestock can’t be left unattended. They have to be fed and watered and looked after, especially in the winter. We’d get snowdrifts six feet deep out there sometimes. I imagine our neighbors, the Simpsons, did it after Ralph died. I’ll have to thank them.” Martha closed her eyes, as if picturing. “Cattle will have to be sold at auction this summer, I imagine.”
“No desire to continue ranching?” Kelly probed, wondering if Martha’s desire to sell off everything from her former life stemmed from unpleasant memories or a genuine desire to continue her new, simpler life.
Kelly felt protective of Martha already, and she’d only known her for a week. But it was enough for Kelly to feel drawn to help the wiry little woman. She recognized the same feelings she’d had for her aunt’s well-being surface within. Their connection might be slight and only recently formed, but it was there. Kelly could feel it resonate inside herself.
“No, Kelly, I truly don’t. In fact, I want to do something different with the land. I’d like it to stay open and wild. No houses. We’re losing too much of our open space to development, nowadays.”
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