by P. Creeden
Tabitha frowned as her heart squeezed. Of course, a broken foot would be causing her aunt pain. She continued to limp on it, even though nearly a month had passed. How could her aunt continue to smile like she did even when she dealt with continued discomfort? Admonishing herself, Tabitha determined that she needed to do more for her aunt. Even if she wasn’t sure exactly how she could help, she would.
“Here you are,” Mr. Stewart said, handing her the small bag. “I’ll just put it on your aunt’s tab.”
Another pang went through Tabitha’s chest. “I don’t want to pry, but is it possible you could tell me how my aunt’s tab is doing. I want to help pay for it as well, if I’m going to be staying here with her in Belle.”
The man’s smile widened. “No need to worry about that, Miss. She has a guardian angel who pays down her tab pretty consistently. Though they never pay it off entirely, so that Ruth can use the money she makes from sewing to pay down the rest and not feel as though she’s living on charity.”
Tabitha tilted her head. “A guardian angel, you say.”
He nodded. “One who wishes to remain anonymous. You understand.”
Slowly, Tabitha nodded and took the bag. She completely forgot about looking around the store as she stepped out of the mercantile in a daze. Who could Aunt Ruth’s anonymous benefactor be? Could it be someone who has feelings for her aunt? Even though Ruth was a widow in her forties, she was, by anyone’s standards, a handsome woman. It could be possible that another, older gentleman would be interested in romancing her aunt. The thought of it made Tabitha both sad and giddy. Her aunt Ruth had been a widow since her twenties, just like Tabitha was now. Even though Tabitha couldn’t imagine getting remarried after having the love of her life, she couldn’t blame her aunt if the woman decided to fall in love. She let out a deep breath and then heard the clip-clop of hooves approaching. She’d never thought of herself as afraid of horses before her husband’s mishap, but now, she couldn’t help but have the smallest streak of fear when one approached her on a busy roadway.
But the main street of Belle would hardly be considered a busy roadway.
She forced herself to walk at a measured pace so that she wouldn’t be tempted to run. If she couldn’t control her emotions, they would control her. She let out another slow breath, but still tensed as the horse’s clopping hooves passed her by. It wasn’t until it was several feet past that she finally felt she could breathe again at a normal rate. Her heartbeat slowed. Still, she couldn’t get back home fast enough
As she passed by the livery, another horse snorted, making her jump to the side. She frowned. Why did her aunt have to live next to the livery? From inside the farrier shop, metal rang against metal in a brutish but musical way. When she peered in the open door, she found the muscular profile of a hulking man, sweat drenching the back of his white shirt, causing it to cling to his skin. He moved his hammer in a regular beat, hitting the steel and pulling it up again, reminding her of the same slow tempo given by a metronome.
For a long moment, she stood, mesmerized. Then finally, the man stopped hammering and quenched the metal horse shoe in a water bucket next to his anvil. Steam hissed around the shoe and rose upward. The side of the man’s face came into view, and Tabitha’s heart leapt in her chest. Ethan Younger. The man she’d met the other day.
She blinked hard and scurried away, hoping that the man wouldn’t spot her. He worked at the farrier shop in the livery? That made sense, she supposed, with the way the man’s forearm muscles had bulged and his ability to lift her steamer trunk without help. Blacksmiths and farriers were unusually strong men, gaining musculature from working with metal and from wrestling unruly horses. A frown tugged her lip. Horses again. She couldn’t get away from them.
If anything, she’d need to overcome this fear of them. They were dangerous, yes, but so were thunderstorms. Some people had irrational fear of those as well, but Tabitha had always been one who loved to watch lightning as it approached and loved the sound of thunder rolling through the sky. If she could somehow take that same sort of awe and reverence for the storm and apply it to horses as well, then maybe she could get through her unnecessary fear.
Reverence. Respect. They weren’t the same as fear. Reverence and respect meant understanding the danger and not letting herself get purposefully in the way of it. But fear was a twisting of that reverence. It was forgetting that God was in control of storms and horses. As she opened the door to her new home, she considered that for a moment. By trying to avoid horses altogether, was she not trying to say that she could control her own fate? Wasn’t she trying to solve her problems by her own strength instead of letting God take care of her?
When she thought of things that way, she felt ashamed for letting her fear take control of her.
“Oh!” Ruth smiled wide. “Could you stop by the shop next door and ask Ethan to come for dinner. I’m making his favorite, shepherd’s pie. Be sure to tell him that.”
Tabitha’s heart leapt into her throat. “You want me to call on him next door and invite him?”
Ruth nodded, smiled and picked back up her sewing without a word.
How could her aunt do this to her? Tabitha wasn’t a child, she was a grown woman. It wasn’t appropriate for her to just call on a man in his workplace. Besides, there were horses there. She’d have to come close to them, wouldn’t she?
Perfect love casteth out fear.
She let out a slow breath as her heart reminded her of the very problem she’d been thinking on. She needed to stop avoiding her fear and let it go into God’s hands.
Chapter 4
With her hand over her heart to keep it locked within the cage of her chest, Tabitha stepped into the farrier shop next door and then froze. Ethan stood over the anvil, his shaggy hair sticking to his forehead. The sweat left a sheen on both his muscular arms, as the sleeves to his work shirt were rolled up to the elbows. Each ring of the hammer against the steel shoe on the anvil made Tabitha’s stomach clench. Could she really do this? The horse standing in the cross-ties next to the anvil shook his head, making the metal clips on his halter jingle like bells. Tabitha’s heart raced harder. The horse was a big one. She’d only been able to ride the stagecoach at the end of her journey because she worked to keep them out of her mind. If she didn’t look at them, she could forget that they were there for the most part. And being in the carriage made her feel a measure of safety.
But now one of the beasts stood not more than twenty feet away from her, with nothing more than a bit of rope holding it back and keeping it from trampling her if it decided to go rogue. Even a gentle horse couldn’t be trusted under certain circumstances. They were just too unpredictable. She stood there staring at the animal, trying to work up the courage to continue forward into the shop when she suddenly realized that the sound of metal ringing against the hammer had ceased. When she shot a glance toward Ethan, she found him peering at her with a brow raised. He finally asked, “Can I help you with something, Miss Harker?”
She shook her head. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Harker.” She almost explained further, but sadness lodged in her throat. She couldn’t continue.
“All right. Mrs. Harker. Is there something I can do for you?” he asked as he dropped the blue steel horse shoe in the water bucket next to the anvil. It hissed and shot up a cloud of steam.
Tabitha swallowed hard. “Aunt Ruth has asked if you would join us for dinner. She’s making your favorite—shepherd’s pie.”
He set his tongs and hammer on the anvil and then crossed his arms over his chest. “At what time?”
“Five o’clock, if that would be acceptable?” Tabitha asked, but her voice ticked up toward the end. She hated when that happened. It made her sound and feel weak.
Slowly he nodded. “I can do that. Thank you for the invitation.”
“It was Aunt Ruth. She sent me to ask you.” She winced at her own words. Why had she felt the need to clarify and explain. Mad at herself, she forced herself to tak
e two steps toward the horse standing in the cross ties. Her heart picked up speed once more. If she could somehow use her anger to overcome her fear more often, maybe she could get through this newfound inclination to run away from horses.
When she met eyes with Ethan again, he’d tilted his head at her. “Is there anything else you need?”
She shook her head. “No.”
For a long moment, they both just stared at each other. Tabitha wanted to step forward, close enough to actually touch the beast, but she was afraid she wasn’t ready. What if the horse wasn’t a gentle one anyway. What if he bit her, or swung his head at her in a violent manner? Maybe getting this near one was close enough for today.
“If you don’t mind,” he finally said. “I prefer working in my shop alone when I can. Sometimes metalworking can take a bit of concentration.”
She blinked at him. Although his words could have been sharp, they were soft and pleading. She hadn’t expected that from him. The man was a brute—how could he also be gentle? Finally, she got hold of herself and nodded. This was close enough for today. “Of course. We’ll see you at five o’clock then?”
He offered her a soft smile. “Yes, Mrs. Harker. Five o’clock.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. His eyes became half-moon shaped as the smile reached them. And suddenly she realized how close she’d gotten to him as well as the horse. She took a step back in retreat. “Thank you. I’ll see you then.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he answered and as she stepped further away, he picked up his tools and began pulling another shoe out of his hot forge.
As she started backward, her step faltered, making a sharp pain run up her back as she caught herself. Her hand fluttered to her chest again, and she worked to calm down. There was no use in getting an injury or hurting herself in some way because she was scared. This whole thing was due to her fear. She couldn’t let it overcome her. Forcing her body to make slow movements, she turned about and walked out the door. She’d come to do what she needed to and didn’t let her fear stop her. As she started back toward her aunt’s house, she sent up a prayer of gratitude.
It took everything in Ethan to stop from trying to help Tabitha when she’d stumbled. But he held a hot shoe in his tongs, and it would have been dangerous for him to do anything but worry about that. Also, last time he’d helped her when she stumbled, she’d given him an earful and demanded an apology. He’d held his breath as she righted herself and then slowly turned around and left his shop.
His breath came out slowly as he went back to work, his heart still racing from the incident. Tabitha was afraid. Had she been shy about coming over and inviting him to dinner? Since she’d arrived a few days ago, he’d been avoiding Ruth’s house as much as he could. He’d taken to eating most of his meals at the cafe instead, when he used to take most of them at Ruth’s. Part of him just felt as though it would be a bad idea to allow himself to do as he always did. Somehow, with Tabitha there, it felt that he’d be taking advantage of Ruth, though he’d never felt that way before. Ruth was family to him. The only real family he’d ever had since his mother passed on. But now that Ruth had Tabitha, Ethan felt odd about the whole thing. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he should feel.
To counter Tabitha’s fear, Ethan had been purposefully gentle. He knew how to handle a skittish horse, so he used those same techniques with her. It seemed to work. But he couldn’t help but notice the constant mood swings the woman seemed to have. One minute she was ready to cry, and the next she was scolding him and telling him to apologize. Now she was showing him fear. Ethan hammered the shoe in his tongs on the horn of the anvil to widen it and then put it on the flat part to make sure he straightened the bars. Once finished, he eyed it to make sure that it was level. Then he quenched it in the bucket of water with the other shoe and let out a deep breath.
Women were difficult to understand.
That afternoon, about an hour later, one of Tabitha’s two students, Milly, sat at the piano, learning the location of the keys and playing a simple tune.
“So, when reading notes, you have to remember both the ones on the line and the ones between. Work to memorize the corresponding key on your piano and which finger you will have to use to make that letter’s sound,” Tabitha said as she pointed to the notes on the page.
“It’s all so overwhelming,” Milly said with a sigh, her brow furrowed.
Tabitha nodded and offered a small smile. “It seems hard now, but just stay determined and keep working at it. It will become second nature in no time. You won’t have to think too hard about what the note means because it will become like the letter is to you and your fingers will automatically know which key it corresponds to. Trust me. It will all be so easy one day that you’ll wonder how you ever had a hard time.”
“I trust you,” Milly said and let out a determined breath and then recited the letters again with Tabitha and then showed her which keys corresponded with the notes.
“Yes,” Tabitha said, clapping her hands. “You’re getting it. Things are already becoming more natural to you.”
The smell of the shepherd’s pie began to carry into the parlor, and Tabitha’s stomach grumbled in response.
Milly giggled. “I’m hungry, too. Maybe we should have lessons a bit earlier in the day?”
“We can do that. Come at two instead next time. And I think we’ll call it a day today.”
Milly leapt to her feet. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy the time we spend together, but learning piano is difficult and it certainly makes me hungry.”
With a laugh, Tabitha drew to her feet and nodded. “I can’t say that it doesn’t make me hungry as well. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“No. I can’t, but thank you for the offer,” Milly said as she shuffled everything into a pile so that she could carry it easily. “I have plans.”
Something about the way she said she had plans made Tabitha’s eyebrow raise. A bit of color rose to Milly’s cheeks and the tips of her ears. If Tabitha didn’t know any better, she might think that Milly was meeting with a gentleman. Maybe she was. Part of Tabitha grew a bit jealous of that feeling. She loved being married. She loved the whole period of courting. She missed John. After letting out a slow breath, she found that she’d allowed herself to get too much into her mournful spirit. Pulling back her shoulders, she pushed away her melancholy and smiled. “Then have a lovely evening and I’ll see you next time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harker,” Milly said as she dashed toward the door without a second thought, leaving Tabitha to shake her head as she followed.
At the dining room table, she found her aunt sitting over her sewing. Ruth peered up at her over her spectacles with a smile as Tabitha came in and sat in the chair across from her. “It’s only her second lesson, and I can already hear progress in Milly’s playing and Mrs. Yount has been singing your praises as well. You’re a natural teacher, Tabby.”
Heat rushed to Tabitha’s cheeks. “Thank you. You’re too kind. Both my students make teaching pretty easy.”
With a smile, Ruth returned to her sewing for a moment, and Tabitha just sat there, relishing in the peaceful moment. The loneliness she’d been plagued with while living in Boston since her husband passed had receded. It wasn’t just because Ruth was there, although that was a big part of it. Having something to do with her days, feeling productive, teaching a skill, and looking forward to her next teaching session were all things that were helping her overcome that lonely feeling she’d been fighting off. Now it didn’t even feel like a fight. Coming to live with Ruth in Belle had been an answer to prayer more than she’d realized.
“Be a dear and take the shepherd’s pie from the oven, will you?” Ruth asked as she snipped the thread from her sewing. “I’ll set this aside so it doesn’t get soiled. Don’t forget to set places for three.”
Three? Tabitha’s heart sank toward her stomach as soon as she remembered they were expecting company. Her gaze shot toward the mantle clock in the par
lor. It was only ten minutes until five. Where had the day gone? Had she gotten so busy with teaching and thinking about her contentment with life that she’d forgotten that they were due to have company for dinner? She had.
Quickly she began to rush about the kitchen to prepare for company and set the table. Ten minutes wasn’t much time. But before three minutes had passed, a knock sounded at the door.
Chapter 5
Before Ruth’s niece had shown up, Ethan would have just knocked on the door and then let himself in. But behaving that way now seemed inappropriate. Part of him wondered how he’d ever gotten away with it in the past. This time, he continued standing on the porch after knocking, hoping that Ruth wasn’t going to hurt herself as she came to answer the door. But when the door finally came open, standing in the doorway was not Ruth—it was Tabitha.
Her brown hair had been braided to both sides of her neck each day that he’d seen her, but somehow, today the braids were just a little bit looser and the soft, shy smile that spread across her lips seemed almost as inviting as the style of her hair. How was it that seeing her a little more relaxed looking than usual put him at ease as well? He offered her the pie that he held. “For dessert.”
She lifted a brow. “Did you bake it?”
Heat blossomed in his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get away from the sudden feeling of embarrassment that took hold of him. “No, ma’am. I bought it at the cafe. I just didn’t want to come on your invitation empty-handed.”
She blinked and tilted her head slightly. The setting sun behind him cast a golden glow upon her. She looked especially pretty in that lighting. With a nod, she took the pie. “There wasn’t any need, but thank you. I’m sure the pie will be delicious.”
Finally, she stepped back and waved him in. He wrung his hat in his hands. Maybe he should have tried to get a bath in before coming. He’d been working hard out in the shop most of the day and had washed up, put on clean clothes, but he hadn’t had time for a full bath and time to get the pie from the cafe. Maybe he should have skipped the pie. He was second guessing himself. Earlier he’d decided to forgo the full bath in order to get the pie, and now he was thinking maybe he should have done the opposite. His stomach twisted at the problem. Why was he feeling this way over just going to Ruth’s house for dinner? He missed how comfortable he used to feel.