“Right here, Jess. What do you need?” Caleb rounded the store aisle as Jess came down the stairs. “Somethin’ wrong? You don’t look so chipper.”
Jess ignored his question. “Could you take my horse and run this letter over to Greta? It’s from her sister, and I know she’d like to have it. You can check on her and see how she’s faring.” He handed Caleb the packet of letters. “Tell her these came today.”
Caleb frowned. “Why would she want letters that were addressed to Bryan?”
Jess heaved a sigh. “She was engaged to my brother.”
Caleb stood still, holding the letters with a stunned look on his face. With an understanding expression, he said, “Jess, I’m sorry . . .”
23
Fortified by Granny’s fluffy biscuits and sausage, Greta was ready to work on cutting out Agnes’s dress. “My goodness, I’ve never tasted more delicious biscuits than yours, Granny. I need to learn how you make them.”
The older lady smiled and clapped her hands with pleasure. “When you’re better, you can drop by anytime for a lesson, but let me warn you there’s no recipe. Just a little buttermilk, an egg, flour, and baking powder. It’s all in how you stir it up. Same as with corn bread. And you’ll get a taste of that for supper with my hearty stew.”
Greta giggled, scooting back her chair. “I can hardly wait, but I don’t see how I’ll have room for another mouthful of food.”
Granny started clearing the breakfast dishes. “Oh, but you will,” she said with a firm nod, setting the dishes in the sudsy water. “I thought we could spread that material out on my dining room table, where it’d be easy to cut. What do you think? Are you up to it this morning?”
“Absolutely! It will take my mind off my foot.” Greta smiled at the older lady. She marveled at the energy that oozed from Granny. She zipped around like a woman half her age, despite the fact that she carried a little more weight than she needed as she hurried from the kitchen. Last night, Granny had made Greta keep her foot elevated and brought her a tray for supper with broth and hot tea. Granny’s attentiveness made Greta feel special, the way her mother used to dote on her daughters at the slightest cold or upset.
Granny held out a cane to her. “Here, lean on this for support till that swelling goes down. It does look somewhat better today.”
“It’s sore, but I agree it feels better.” She took the smooth, carved cane, then followed Granny to the dining room, where she had the fabric, a big pincushion, the pattern, and scissors waiting for them. “My, you’ve thought of everything. I placed Agnes’s measurements in with the pattern pieces, if you want to get those out. Do you have a tape measure?”
Granny reached into her apron pocket. “Right here,” she said, placing the tape on the table. “I think we have everything we need. Let’s get started.”
Granny hummed hymns while she pinned the pattern to the fabric, and Greta did all the cutting, barely noticing the ache in her foot as the morning flew by.
“This is going to be a very pretty party dress for Agnes. She has one of these barbecues at the end of every summer—and any other time she can find a reason,” Granny said. “Any reason to get my grandson to show up.”
“Do you mean Jess?” Greta’s heart hammered under her blouse, but she didn’t look up from her cutting task.
“Yes indeed. Don’t know if you and Cora were aware of it, but Jess courted Agnes for a while—that is, until a rich man came to town. She dumped Jess faster than ice melts in the middle of August. Trouble is, all of it came to naught. The smooth talker soon moved on to other adventures, but by then Jess’s feelings for her had gone cold.”
Greta straightened and stretched her back, which ached from leaning over the table. “But they seem like they’re still good friends.”
“Let’s just say Jess tolerates her, and Cole is a good friend of his. But I can tell where his affections lie.” Granny grinned, looking at her over the top of her spectacles.
Greta stood quietly, trying to keep the tremble in her voice at bay. “I’m glad to hear that. I . . . wasn’t sure about their relationship.” She lowered her eyes.
Granny looked at her with narrowed eyes, then motioned her to sit down. “You’ve been standing for too long.”
Realizing that she’d paused from her work, Greta was grateful to oblige. The older lady took a seat next to her. “Greta, I might be old and addle-brained, but I can see the writing on the wall, even if you can’t.”
“Granny, what are you trying to tell me?” Deep down Greta knew exactly what she meant but thought it best not to let on.
“My dear, I see the way Jess looks at you, and he doesn’t do that when Cora enters the room. You two may spar at times, but it’s easy to see that my grandson is completely taken with you.”
Greta felt warmth creeping into her face, but the knowledge that Granny had figured out the truth gave her hope. She stared down at her hands, trying to come up with something to say.
“Hmm . . . something tells me that I hit upon the truth. Tell me, dear,” Granny said, leaning closer. “Is it true then?”
Greta chewed her bottom lip before answering. “Oh, Granny, it is true, and I think I love him too, but Cora is my friend. I know she cares for Jess, but then I saw her and Zach kissing before I fell in the cemetery. I don’t understand! Zach told me he’s attracted to me and wants to be married right away.”
“Is that a fact, now?” When Greta nodded, Granny continued. “Well, my goodness! That changes things for sure. I guess Cora likes Jess, but if you saw her in Zach’s arms, then that tells the story. There’s no confusion. Pure and simple.” Granny set her fabric aside. “All I can tell you is what I see . . . so take your time. Since Zach forged those mail-order bride letters, it would serve him right if he fell in love with one of you, after all his big talk of being a bachelor.” Granny humphed.
“Granny, there’s more to the story than meets the eye.” Greta expelled air from her lungs. There, she’d said it. She would have to tell Granny about Bryan now.
Granny stood. “It sounds like the perfect timing for tea or coffee. I’ll fix it while you go settle yourself in the parlor,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “I’ll meet you there, and don’t forget to prop your foot up.”
In Granny’s cozy parlor with a pot of tea and a dish of tea cakes, Greta was propped up on the settee, her foot on a cushion. Granny pulled her chair closer and spread a napkin over Greta’s lap, then poured each of them tea into delicate rose china.
“Now,” Granny said, settling in her wingback chair, “you can continue with your story. Somehow I think there are a few pieces missing in my view of my grandsons’ matters lately. I don’t want to pry, but whatever you have to say will be held in confidence, if you wish.”
Greta already knew that Granny didn’t miss much when it came to observing other people, and on some level she felt comfortable telling her about Bryan. There was no other way to do it but to launch right in. “This may come as a shock, but I was engaged to your grandson Bryan before he was ambushed.” She watched Granny, afraid of her reaction.
Granny clapped her hand over her bosom. Her face was solemn, losing all color, and her blue eyes flew wide open.
Greta leaned toward her. “Granny, are you all right? Oh, maybe I should have kept my mouth closed!”
Granny struggled to regain her composure, setting her teacup down on the table. “I must say that is quite a shock. I never in this world would have guessed. Have you told Jess and Zach?”
“I told Jess when I sprained my foot at the cemetery. That’s when I discovered the truth myself.” Greta told Granny about Jess finding her at the family cemetery, the locket, and Bryan’s last request.
Granny’s face softened, and her eyes filled with tears. “But how in the world did you not make a connection with the names?”
“How could I? Bryan never talked much about his family before he was sent to Fort Bridger. I suppose we were so consumed with each other we didn’t thi
nk or talk about anything but ourselves and our future.” Greta paused and sipped her tea, waiting for Granny’s response.
“What did Jess have to say about it?”
“He was shocked, partly because we’re so drawn to each other . . . but he told me that he can’t compete with Bryan’s ghost. His death was a year ago, and I believe I am ready for love, but I don’t think Jess is convinced that I’m over his brother. It was very hard to see his headstone, and it did bring up the past and my love for him. But the tears Jess saw were my letting go of his memory, not longing for him.”
“I see.” Granny lifted her cup and took a little sip. “I’m not surprised at all that Bryan fell in love with you. It broke my heart when he was killed. Jess told me that he’d met someone, but that was all.”
Greta fingered the heart-shaped locket around her neck and slipped it over her head. “I want you to have this now. It holds a tiny photograph of Bryan. He gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take that. He meant it for you.”
Greta reached for Granny’s hand and placed the gold chain and locket in her palm. “No, it’s right that you should have it now. He was your grandson, and if I’m to look to the future, I can’t be bound to what could have been.”
Tears spilled down Granny’s cheeks as she snapped open the locket and peered at the image of Bryan. “He was so loved, Greta. He looked up to his older brothers. Thank you, I’ll treasure this always. But are you sure?”
Greta gave her the warmest smile she could muster. “I’m very sure. I think he would have liked you to have it now. Perhaps he knows from heaven. Some of his last words were for me, his private said . . . that only one man was worthy of my love—his brother.” She leaned back. “I’m not certain, but I think he meant Jess. Though I’ll really never know, will I?”
Granny put the locket around her neck and smiled sweetly at her. “But we can pray that God will somehow reveal that to you. Would it be okay if I prayed with you about that now, Greta?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Greta could only nod.
Greta was sitting at the kitchen table, shelling peas, and Granny was putting the stew on to simmer on the stovetop when the doorbell chimed.
“Who could that be? I’m not expecting anyone,” Granny muttered, setting aside her knife and bowl. “Let me see who it is.”
Moments later, she returned with Caleb in tow. “Look who’s here to see you.”
Caleb shuffled in, carrying something in his hand. “I hope I’m not disturbing you ladies, but Jess asked me to run this over to you.” He placed a bundle in front of Greta and handed her a letter from Catharine.
Greta exclaimed with joy as she picked up the letter. “I’ve been hoping to hear from Catharine.” Then her eyes riveted to the small bundle tied with twine that she recognized as her letters to Bryan. “Oh . . . how did Jess get these?”
“He had a package from Fort Bridger today with some of his brother’s things they’d found.”
“Land sakes! After a year? My, my!” Granny said. “I wonder what else was in the box.”
Caleb shrugged. “He never said, but he seemed very sad, like he’d just lost his brother last week . . .” Caleb’s voice trailed off when he looked at Granny’s solemn face.
Greta tried to regain her composure. “Well, thank you for bringing these, and thank Jess for me.”
“I will. I need to get on back now. Are you feeling better, Greta?” he asked as he started backing out of the kitchen.
“Thank you for asking. Yes, I’m doing goed, thanks to Granny’s felicitous attention.”
“I’ll see you to the door,” Granny said.
“Wait! Caleb, are you in the wagon?” Greta struggled to stand and leaned on the kitchen table.
Caleb stopped at the door. “Yes. Why?”
Greta turned to Granny. “I feel like I should go to him. Seeing my letters and Bryan’s things . . . I must see him.” She searched Granny’s face, and understanding flashed between them.
Granny took her arm. “I understand perfectly. Caleb, if you’ll support Greta on the other side, we can both get her to the wagon.”
“Sure thing, Granny.” Caleb jumped to her side to assist her.
24
Cora strolled down the sidewalk after she left the store, glad to leave Jess in the restrained mood he was in. She wondered where Zach had taken off to, but she didn’t have long to guess when she neared the hotel. He was hitching his horse to the post and turned to give her a grin.
Zach waited until she was close and said in a low voice, “I thought since you would be alone the next couple of days, we could have supper. Then I’d like to share a stroll so we can watch the millions of stars twinkling like diamonds under the canopy of the sky tonight.”
“Ever the eloquent cowboy,” she teased, looking into his eyes, which danced flirtatiously.
He reached for her hand and pulled her to the side of the hotel building. He pressed her gently against the brick wall and kissed her hands, then moved to her lips. His masculinity showed in the way he held her, and she felt his strong arms about her as he showered her with kisses.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Zach,” Cora halfheartedly protested between kisses, spreading her hands against his chambray shirt. She could feel the pounding of his heart, which matched her own.
“You’re like a drink of cold water after a dusty ride,” he said huskily. “Did you miss me all afternoon?” He tilted her chin with his fingers to gaze into her eyes.
“And what if I did? What will you do about it?” Cora was enjoying this little game.
Zach put his arm about her waist and gave it a tight squeeze. “I’ll kiss you all the more if you’ll let me.”
“I might be more inclined if we weren’t in an alleyway for all passersby to see,” she said, blushing. She couldn’t help but notice the frank stares they were being given. “But seriously, we can’t keep snatching kisses on the lurch. We have to do something about this.”
Zach kissed her soundly again, then released her. “You’re right, of course. I’ll talk to Jess about us. You go to your room and freshen up, and I’ll call for you in a half hour. How does that sound?”
She took a step back. “Are you trying to tell me that I need cleaning up?” she said, her mouth curving into a smile.
He tapped her on the nose. “You always look lovely, but I need to get cleaned up myself. I’ll be back for you, so no dallying,” he ordered.
He walked her back to the front of the hotel. Cora scurried in, glad that she wouldn’t have to face Greta tonight but pleased that Zach promised to talk to Jess soon.
Caleb helped Greta up the steps to the store, which he’d left unlocked until he returned. She was grateful for the cane Granny loaned her. Only one light glowed, so Jess must have gone upstairs. She turned to Caleb. “I’ll go upstairs and talk to him, but wait down here for me so you can take me back home, if you don’t mind. Maybe you can stay and have a bowl of Granny’s stew.”
“All right. Sure you don’t want me to help you up the stairs?”
“I can manage fine with this cane. I’m not totally incapacitated, as Granny would have everyone believe.” She gave a quiet giggle.
“If you need anything, I’ll be sitting on the porch.” Caleb strolled away, fishing in his pocket. Greta assumed he’d pull out his knife as he usually did when free time allowed him to whittle. She wondered what he was carving. It was sweet of Cora to buy him the knife. She was a good influence on Caleb—and all of them, for that matter, Greta thought as she continued on up the stairs. She rapped on Jess’s door.
“Jess, it’s me—Greta. Can I please come in?” she asked hesitantly.
The door suddenly flung open, and Jess stared down at her with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need some company, but . . .”
“Come in,” he said with a sweep of his hand.
She removed her wrap and he flung
it over a kitchen chair. The large room seemed dismal. He looked awful and disheveled. Had he been crying? He stood looking at her for a moment.
“Can we please sit down?” she asked.
He led the way over to the sitting area, where chairs were assembled in front of the open window. A stiff breeze blew the curtains inward. She took the chair opposite him. “Are you all right? It couldn’t have been easy to receive Bryan’s personal effects after all this time,” she said quietly.
He looked down at the box next to his chair, then back up at her. “No. Somehow it seemed like I’d just lost him again. Doesn’t make sense, I know, but I thought I’d put most of the sadness behind me,” Jess said, running his hand across his face with a deep sigh.
“No, it makes sense to me. My parents were the first ones I’d ever lost, and the wound of their deaths still haunts me from time to time.”
“Like Bryan’s?” His eyes bore a hole straight through to her soul, and she swallowed hard.
“I’ll admit seeing his headstone brought it all back, but I think you mistook my crying as longing for him.” She reached over and placed a palm on his knee. “I might have mourned what could have been, but my tears were also a release—a kind of letting go of the past, if you will. I can’t live in that past anymore, Jess, and neither should you. Bryan wouldn’t have wanted that for either of his brothers.”
Jess sat quietly with his head in his hands for a long time. Greta was beginning to think she’d made a mistake in coming to see him when he reached down to the box and handed her a piece of paper. “Read this.”
She took the paper from his hand, and her eyes flew over the handwriting that was all too familiar. With a catch in her throat, she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She mustn’t cry. Not now when Jess was hurting so much and filled with doubt. When she looked up, he held her eyes for a long moment.
“You should feel honored that he felt that way about you, Jess. Earlier your grandmother and I prayed that God would reveal an answer to me—and He did just that now.”
Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel Page 18