He shook his head. “No. I’m an amateur. Wait until you see some of those farmers and homesteaders. They bring their own teams and plows and it’s impressive what they can accomplish within the time limits.”
“I can’t wait to see that! What else? Besides horseshoes. I understand Old Horace and Gus are prepared for a competition.”
“There’s a course mapped out and flagged for horse racing.”
She raised an eyebrow in question.
“Yes, I do have a horse I plan to race.”
She grinned. “I’ll cheer you on.”
He squeezed her hand. “Let’s start with breakfast.”
“Those first booths we saw?”
“Let’s check them out and see what sounds good to you. I happen to know Aunt Mae’s flapjacks are prize winners themselves.”
Leah tugged his hand. “Let’s get you a stack.”
In the center of the midway Daniel located Aunt Mae’s booth. An awning shaded several tables alongside the structure.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gardner!” Aunt Mae called out when she saw them. “Don’t you two look handsome side-by-side. Daniel, your bride is as pretty as a spring morning, isn’t she?”
“Leah’s beauty puts spring to shame,” he answered and gave his new wife an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
Leah blushed. “Daniel thinks his fair experience would be for naught if he didn’t have a stack of your flapjacks, Aunt Mae.”
“And right he is.” She turned and poured perfectly round dollops of batter into the sizzling skillets atop one of the two cast iron stoves that had been vented through the wooden roof. No wonder there had been so much activity going on the week prior to this event. Setting up these booths must have been time-consuming and labor-intensive. “Thank you for helping me peel apples and measure sugar and cinnamon, dear. I don’t know if I’d have finished the pies without you. ”
“My pleasure. I may be able to turn out a few on my own now. ”
Aunt Mae expertly flipped their flapjacks and turned them out onto plates alongside perfectly browned sausages and then poured them steaming cups of coffee. Daniel glanced at the prices written on a chalkboard, and left a couple of bills on the makeshift counter. He used small ironstone pitchers to pour butter and syrup.
The realization of how good the fair was for the town’s economy impressed Leah all the more. Businessmen from neighboring towns, farmers, homesteaders and families were spending a day or two, eating and paying to enter the competitions—a once a year event that drew a crowd, brought community together and gave the merchants and even the wives a chance to earn or win additional cash.
“Aunt Mae can make quite a profit this weekend, I suppose.”
“Yes, it’s a good opportunity for anyone with goods to sell.”
Daniel led them out of the booth and around the side to sit under the canopy. As fate would have it, the very first person they encountered was Dora Edison. She sat at a table with a woman she resembled so much it was obvious the woman was her mother.
Leah’s heartbeat stuttered. Their last encounter had been heated, with Dora attempting to downplay her words and Leah taking a defensive stance on Will’s behalf. Of course it was expected they would run into each other again. Cowboy Creek wasn’t a big town.
Daniel set their plates on a table, and then cupped Leah’s elbow and led her several steps to the women’s table. “Good morning, Mrs. Edison. Dora. Mrs. Edison, this is my wife, Leah. Leah, this is Dora’s mother, Augusta.”
Leave it to Daniel to forge a peace treaty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Leah said.
Leah held her breath, waiting for a reply.
“It’s nice to meet you, Leah,” Augusta said finally. “Congratulations on your marriage.”
“I hope you ladies enjoy the day’s festivities,” Daniel said.
“I’m sure we will. Thank you.”
They went back to their table and sat.
Leah cast him a sidelong look. “Well, she didn’t throw food.”
“What can she say, Leah? Dora was in the wrong and she knows it. You did the only thing you could do with a clear conscience. Hopefully she’s learned a lesson.”
She picked up her fork and glanced up at him. “Do you face everything head-on?”
“Nothing gets accomplished hiding under a rock,” he replied with a shrug.
Everything about him pointed out her weaknesses. She didn’t know what would have happened the first time she’d seen Dora if he hadn’t been with her. “I’m not as brave as you.”
“You’re plenty brave,” he countered. “You answered the ad and came all the way to Kansas without knowing a soul until you got here. That was brave.”
It didn’t feel brave. It felt desperate.
She shut down that thought and worked to see herself the way he saw her. “What do you see when you look at me?”
He chewed and swallowed the bite he’d taken, and his gaze flicked across her features. His expression softened and his green eyes lit from within. “I see the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”
“Really, really look,” she said. “Deeper. What do you see?”
“I see someone with courage. Someone kind. I see someone frightened, but determined to take care of herself and her child. Someone who’s lost so much it hurts to breathe some days, but she keeps going.”
His directness humbled her. Leah’s jaw ached with the unexplainable urge to burst into tears. She reminded herself she was teary because of the baby and took a deep, shaky breath to calm the inner confusion. “How did you get this way, Daniel?”
“What way?”
“Larger than life. Kinder than necessary. Honest. So honest sometimes it makes my teeth hurt.”
He shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been pretty straightforward, but I learned not to take even one day or one moment for granted. Not to waste any time the good Lord gave us being superficial.”
“I don’t know if I want to be that person you describe or not. I want to be brave, of course. But I don’t want to be frightened. Not anymore.”
“What are you frightened of today? Right here, right now.”
That my heart is opening, little by little. That I can’t trust it. I can’t trust myself. That I can’t make any more mistakes. That I don’t want to hurt the best man I’ve ever known. That I might not be good enough. That I’m flawed, and you’ll see through me eventually...
She shook her head without voicing the fountain of turmoil inside. She wasn’t brave. Not at all. She was too cowardly to deny being the woman he saw.
“Today I feel safe,” she whispered.
His kind smile wrinkled the corners of his eyes and charmed her. For now safe was enough. They enjoyed their breakfast, waving a friendly goodbye when Dora and Augusta passed their table. Dora met Leah’s eyes and nodded without a smile. It was likely they’d be living in this same town for many years to come. Leah was measurably relieved it seemed they could see each other without a problem arising.
Their appointment for the portrait wasn’t until ten, so they browsed the displays, and again Leah was impressed by how much thought had gone into the planning. She lingered in a tent of quilts, while Daniel visited with a gentleman just outside. The woman who sat working on an embroidered block greeted her. “How do, Mrs. Gardner?”
A little confused, Leah returned the greeting.
“I saw you the day the bride train arrived,” the woman explained. “And news travels fast, so I heard about the wedding, as well. I’m Mrs. Foster...the housekeeper at the Cattleman.”
“Did you make all of these beautiful quilts?”
She chuckled. “Goodness, no. I made these few over here.” She led Leah to a neatly folded stack and pointed to one hanging on a pole suspended from the beams. “This one is called
a sawtooth star, and I alternated the star blocks with chintz, all in the same color. The stars are made from old clothing and curtains.”
The predominant color was red, skillfully coordinated with blues, peach, ivory and green, with flecks of black here and there.
Leah studied the pattern and the stitches with admiration. “It’s beautiful.” She glanced aside. “And these are yours as well?”
“Yes. That one is called a kaleidoscope pattern.” She opened it up for Leah’s inspection. Each pastel calico block looked like a four-bladed fan, and the curved edges of the blade shapes formed larger circles. In the center of each square was a small white button, and the entire quilt was edged with green and rose calico.
Leah touched the stitches with appreciation and ran a hand over the fabric. “How long did it take you to make this?”
“A couple of winters.”
Leah admired Mrs. Foster’s other creations as well, but she came back to the kaleidoscope quilt and gave it a last look. “It’s so beautiful. The colors are soft and pretty. I can picture it on a bed.”
“Having a good day so far, Mr. Gardner?” Mrs. Foster asked.
Leah turned to see Daniel inside the opening of the tent. “Yes, the weather is clear and it’s not too windy. That’s a perfect day in Kansas.” He turned to Leah. “I’m sorry for leaving you for so long. I met a rancher I’d never spoken with before. We were getting acquainted.”
“You’re fine. I enjoyed seeing the quilts and talking with Mrs. Foster. She’s skilled with a needle and thread.”
“We’re setting up frames as soon as a couple of the other ladies arrive,” the woman told Leah. “Come back later and you can see how we work on finishing a quilt. You might want to learn how it’s done. Or start one of your own. I’d be happy to show you.”
“Will you be here tomorrow, too?”
“Oh, yes. We’re here for the duration of the fair.”
Leah glanced around the interior once more. “Perhaps I’ll come back tomorrow, then.”
“It’s almost time for our photograph.” Daniel offered his arm. “Let’s go find the tent.”
Chapter Seventeen
A fancily lettered sign that read John Cleve Parker Photography hung over the canopied entrance to the enormous tent they sought. The interior was sectioned off with a private studio area in the back. Just inside the entrance were framed examples of John Cleve’s work as well as various trunks, chairs and drapes, silk ferns on stands and other props.
“Good day, my friends!” A man with black hair parted down the center and a huge handlebar mustache greeted them. “If you’ve not already signed up for a photograph, you should have. What a handsome couple you are.”
“We’re the Gardners,” Daniel said. “Ten o’clock.”
“Of course!” John Cleve shook Daniel’s hand and bowed before Leah.
“We’re a little early,” Daniel explained. “If you have a comfortable chair, Leah will sit for a few minutes while I go home and fetch our clothing changes.”
“Of course. Of course. But I’d love to do a couple of shots before the formal clothing goes on, as well, if you don’t mind.”
Daniel glanced at Leah and she agreed with a lift of one shoulder and a nod. “Sure. How about after Leah’s rested for a few minutes? I’ll be back shortly.”
Daniel left the tent and John Cleve ushered Leah to a plush chair situated in one of the makeshift studio settings. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a glass of water.
“Thank you. I was thirsty.” She drank half. “You certainly have quite a setup here, Mr. Parker. All of these lovely settings and props.”
“This is what I do,” he said cheerfully. “I bring the studio to the people. Beyond that canvas wall is my traveling darkroom because the collodion plates must be processed immediately.”
“Have you done this for a long time?”
“About fifteen years, give or take,” he replied.
“So...you took photographs during the war?”
He nodded, and at her expression added, “I didn’t travel to battlefields. I photographed a lot of forts, horses being trained, portraits of officers. Stayed behind the scenes mostly. Still, I saw too much, as did everyone who lived through it. Did your husband fight?”
“He did.” She shared where Daniel had traveled.
John Cleve studied her a moment, and then moved a few feet away where he found a cord and tugged it. The motion rolled up a window on the side of the tent and allowed air and daylight in. He glanced at her again, tilted his head, then turned and moved a boxy camera on a sturdy tripod into position. “Just as you are, please. Don’t move.”
She’d been enjoying the rest, the water and the relaxed conversation. His scrutiny and the camera made her self-conscious.
He fiddled with slides and a drape and ducked under the black cloth. “Don’t look at the camera,” he said. “Gaze away from the light for a few minutes, chin down slightly.”
She sat as he asked. After he’d taken two shots he asked her to look out the window. “Think of your husband,” he suggested.
It wasn’t difficult to think of Daniel. He was always on her mind. Seeing him relaxed and enjoying himself was a pleasure. He had so many responsibilities and so many people depended on him, he needed days like this.
John Cleve had taken a few more shots before Daniel arrived with their changes of clothing. The photographer hung them and had Daniel pose standing just behind her chair. For another pose he asked Daniel to sit on a footstool near her knees and asked them to look at each other.
He experimented with the shade all the way up, with it down a few inches and then down halfway, finding just the lighting he preferred.
As Leah looked at Daniel, she couldn’t help noticing his hair was mussed from his walk. She reached up and finger-combed the chestnut waves away from his forehead. His bright green gaze softened and he gave her a tender smile.
“Don’t move. Hold still. You’re going to be very happy with these portraits,” John Cleve pronounced. “Mrs. Gardner, there’s a changing room just through this curtain.”
“I’ll need help with the buttons once I have the dress on,” she told Daniel.
“I will help him with his suit right here, and he’ll be ready to assist you,” the photographer said with a broad smile.
Once she had changed Daniel was able to fasten most of the buttons up the back of her dress. He left a few undone.
Shy about her expanding form, she averted her gaze. “It was the flapjacks...”
“Most likely,” he agreed, always the gentleman. “No one will ever know.”
John Cleve had dropped a sheer valance over the open window area, filtering the light. He ushered them into a setting with gauzy drapery and swags of silk rose garlands. “It’s your preference, but I suggest you both stand and I’ll pose you in a few different positions.”
A breeze lifted the gauze over the window. From outside came the sound of children’s laughter. The photographer had them stand hip to hip, with Daniel’s arm around Leah’s waist. The heat of his hand radiated through the fabric of her dress, and the strength of his arm was evident across her back. The familiar scents of cedar, starch and shaving soap reached her nostrils. Her new husband smelled good. His scent made her feel safe. His closeness made her feel a little giddy. Daniel was everything good and honorable.
Daniel was home.
The sheer strength of her emotions overwhelmed her, and she fought the stinging sensation in her nose and eyes. She wanted to turn and fold herself into his warm embrace, feel safe, feel important, feel wanted. But instead she smiled for the camera and wished she was braver. Wished she’d been wiser and chosen Daniel a long time ago.
She glanced up at him and found he was already looking at her, a half smile on his h
andsome face.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in a husky voice intoned for her alone.
Even though a cool breeze wafted through the tent, her skin flushed. She worked desperately not to compare this man to Charles, but diverting her thoughts was impossible. Initially, Charles had appreciated having her appear with him at officer’s functions, had bought her dresses and shoes and jewelry to wear to the functions, but the attention had quickly faded, and she’d soon felt like a china doll set upon a shelf and forgotten.
She’d told herself he was preoccupied with his career, and of course the welfare of the country was more important than her hurt feelings. It would never have occurred to him to buy her a gift for the sake of her pleasure alone. He had never whispered that she was pretty. In fact now that she thought of it, she couldn’t even remember him telling her he loved her.
“These were all full-length shots,” John Cleve explained, moving the tripod with the camera forward and making readjustments. “I’m going to get a few head and shoulder portraits now, and then we’ll be finished and you can carry on and enjoy the fair.”
“I’m enjoying myself right now,” Daniel said, beaming down at his wife.
“All right, you two. Look over my shoulder at the birdcage. Soft expressions. You’re in love. The day is beautiful. Birds are singing. The scent of roses is everywhere. You’ve just eaten delicious wedding cake with sugary frosting, and the staff will be doing the dishes.”
Leah couldn’t help a small smile.
“You’re happier about not doing those dishes than having eaten the cake,” John Cleve teased. A few minutes later, he stood and faced them. “You are interesting and natural subjects. You may come back this afternoon to see your portraits. I won’t charge you for any that don’t turn out the way you hoped they would. I confess I took more than I normally would have because I was captivated by the two of you. You are a striking couple. Mr. Gardner, there will be a few surprise photographs for you, as well.”
They thanked John Cleve, changed clothing, and asked him to store it until their return. The crowd had swelled, voices louder, children more boisterous. Browsing the booths, they discovered jellies had been judged, and one of the homesteader’s wives had won with her blackberry. Daniel bought them slices of bread spread with butter and jelly, and they enjoyed it as they walked. A birdhouse competition was being judged at one of the booths, so they stopped to watch. Owen Ewing won with a triple story birdhouse painted in colorful Dutch designs and outfitted with multiple perches and even a mock chimney.
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