Blowing on Dandelions: A Novel (Love Blossoms in Oregon Series)

by Miralee Ferrell

  “I see. Well, I won’t keep you, Mrs. Galloway. I’ll walk you to the boardwalk, then I’d best get this grain to the livery and unloaded. I need to track down my son.”

  “You and your wife have children as well? I imagine they must attend school with my girls.”

  A cloud passed across his handsome features, leaving them cold and withdrawn. “My son and I are here alone. Good day to you, ma’am, and again, I’m sorry for the scare to you and your daughter.” He settled his hat down further on his head, climbed up onto the buckboard seat, and picked up the reins.

  As the team surged forward, Katherine stared after them. What in the world had she said that soured him all of a sudden? She watched for a full minute, but the man didn’t look back.

  Micah slapped the reins against the mules’ haunches and suppressed a shudder. He’d come so close to running down that little girl—Amanda, her mother called her. Why hadn’t he been more alert and noticed that she’d dashed into the road? One tragedy in the past two years was enough for a lifetime. He certainly didn’t need his poor fortune to spill over onto someone else’s life.

  Mrs. Galloway had handled the scare well, not shrieking or threatening to faint like some city women he’d known. Even his dear Emma would’ve been swooning and unable to function after such a scare. Emma. His heart lurched as memories of his beloved wife washed over him. He had been unbearably lonely since her passing eighteen months earlier, and only the needs of their son, Zachary, had kept him from sliding into a dark place. The past couple months had been easier, but pain still rammed its fist into his gut at unexpected times.

  Admiration for Mrs. Galloway once more tickled his imagination, but he shoved it away, irritated at the unfair comparison he’d made to his Emma. He started to swivel his head to get one more glimpse of the woman but steeled himself and stared straight ahead instead. She’d been perfectly safe on the far side of the road the last time he’d looked.

  He clucked to his mules again.

  Women had no place in his life anymore. Not at the present nor any time in the future. Zachary was his entire world now, and Micah would do well to remember that fact.

  Katherine had almost hustled her daughter home without the promised treat until she realized that’s exactly what her mother would’ve done to her as a child. Mandy hadn’t exactly disobeyed her, as she hadn’t instructed her daughter to keep hold of her hand; the girl had only acted out of excitement at the promised treat. Becoming a replica of her mother by constantly chiding her children was not something Katherine intended to do, so Katherine had purchased Amanda a peppermint stick at the nearby hardware store.

  A memory of Micah Jacobs’s deep green eyes now swam to the fore of her thoughts as she opened the front door of her house and stepped inside. She exhaled. No time to think of anything right now except preparing for Mama’s arrival.

  As soon as they entered, Mandy darted off. Katherine raised her voice. “You need to wash that sticky candy off your hands before you touch anything, Amanda Lee.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The fairy-like voice drifted back on the quiet air. Light footsteps broke the stillness behind her.

  Katherine whirled. “Lucy! Where have you been?”

  Her tawny-haired daughter stood inside the open door, avoiding her gaze. “Nowhere special.”

  Katherine crossed her arms. “You were supposed to come straight home from school.”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, Ma.”

  “So where were you?”

  “I walked to the general store. I guess I forgot.”

  “Shut the door, please.” Katherine waited until Lucy did as she asked, then beckoned the girl into the parlor. “Take a seat.”

  Lucy bit her lower lip and glanced at the stairway leading to her room. “I need to do my schoolwork. Could we talk later?”

  “No.” Katherine pointed to an upright horsehair chair. “Sit.”

  Her elder daughter sank onto the stiff seat but didn’t settle back. “Am I in trouble?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but you might be. Where did you go? More importantly, who were you with?”

  Lucy bristled, her back straightening. “I suppose Mandy tattled on me?”

  “This has nothing to do with your sister, young lady. You disobeyed me and asked your sister to lie. Now out with it.”

  Lucy slumped in her chair, the rebellion melting from her expression. “I’m sorry, Ma. I met a new friend, and well, he wanted to pick up something at the store, that’s all.”

  “A new friend. Does this friend have a name?”

  Her daughter ducked her head. “Zachary.”

  “A boy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How old is this Zachary?”

  Lucy raised her head. “Fourteen. We’re in the same reader at school. He’s really nice.”

  “Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

  “There wasn’t anything to say. He’s new to town.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I can talk to him. Really talk to him. He’s not like some of the other kids. He listens to me, and I listen to him.”

  Katherine drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, working to control her emotions. “You’re too young to be courted, Lucy.”

  “Courted!” Pink spots blossomed in Lucy’s cheeks. “He’s not courting me. I told you, he’s a friend. That’s all.”

  Katherine stared at her daughter for a full minute, trying to read the truth in her clear gaze. She saw no hint of deception there, and the girl never wavered. “All right, I believe you. But from now on, when I tell you to come straight home, you’re to do so. Understand?”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  “Good. Now we need to get to work. Your grandmother is coming tomorrow, and her room isn’t ready.”

  Lucy blew out an exasperated breath. “I forgot. How long is she staying?”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s possible she’ll be here for several weeks, if not longer. Grandma has no one to take care of her, and she’s alone.”

  “I wish Aunt June hadn’t died.” Lucy pouted. “It’s not that I don’t love Grandma. I do. But sometimes she’s mean to you, and I don’t like it.”

  “We must forgive and love her in spite of herself, honey, even when it’s difficult.”

  “I know, but it’s not right God made her that way.”

  “Lucy! God didn’t make her that way. She’s a grown woman and makes her own choices.”

  “But He could change her if He wanted to, and He hasn’t.”

  Katherine struggled to find the words to comfort and reassure her daughter, but what could she say? She’d had the same thoughts most of her life and had shoved them aside time after time, trying to believe it wasn’t God’s fault the way she was raised. She couldn’t blame Lucy for her feelings, although she hated that her daughter might grow up with the same resentments and doubts that had plagued her for so many years. “God knows what He’s doing, sweetie. Grandma is … different, that’s all.”

  As much as it pained her to make excuses for Mama, Katherine couldn’t permit her daughters to find fault with their grandmother. Better that she set aside her own feelings and teach Amanda and Lucy respect for their elders. “We have to make allowances.” She got up and patted Lucy’s shoulder.

  Lucy shrugged. “I suppose, but I hope she doesn’t stay long, or I might just run away.” She flounced down the hall and stomped up the stairs.

  Chapter Three

  Jeffery Tucker approached the door of the boardinghouse and glanced over his shoulder. Should he walk in or knock? Caution won out, and he rapped against the doorframe. When no one answered, he opened the door and stepped inside the long, narrow foyer that ran the full width of the three-story home. A desk built into a corner stood empty, and no voices echoed from the rooms beyond. Plucking the metal bell off the polished counter of the desk, he rang the thing, wondering how long it would take someone to arrive.

  Removing his pocket watch from his vest, he noted the time. He’
d had more than his share of waiting from folks who put little stock in courtesy and good manners.

  Footsteps tapped down the hall, and the door to the foyer swung open. A slender woman with dark blond hair walked in. “Good day, sir. May I help you?”

  He removed his hat and bowed. “Yes, ma’am. My name is Jeffery Tucker. The proprietor at the general store assured me your establishment serves fine meals, has clean linens, and is quite reputable. I’d like to inquire after a room, if I may.”

  She stepped behind the desk. “I’m Katherine Galloway. I’m pleased Mr. Snider gave us such a high recommendation, and I hope we’ll live up to your expectations. How long were you planning on staying, Mr. Tucker?”

  “That’s yet to be determined, but at least a month, possibly longer. I’m not sure how long my business will keep me in town.” He swept a gaze around the foyer and through the open doorway. “Is that acceptable?”

  “We have four rooms available on the second floor, each with a single bed, dresser, small desk, washstand, and window, or a larger room with a full-size bed on the first floor. We also have two small rooms on the third floor, but it tends to get warm in the summer.”

  He twisted his hat in his hands. As much as he’d prefer a cooler space, he’d wager the larger ones would cost more. “I assume a smaller room might be the least expensive? If so, I’ll take it.”

  “That’s correct.” She placed a book and pencil where he could reach it. “Would you sign the register?”

  “Certainly. Might I ask if your husband will be home in the evening, or if you have other male boarders, Mrs. Galloway?”

  The woman shook her head. “I’m a widow, Mr. Tucker, and right now it’s my two children, my mother—when she arrives––and myself who live here full time.” She accepted the pencil he held out and slid the book back into its slot. “By the way, breakfast and supper come with the room.” She motioned toward the staircase. “Would you care to see where you’ll be staying?”

  “Thank you, I would.”

  He followed her up two flights of stairs, listening as she gave him the schedule for the meals and her home’s simple rules. Satisfaction burrowed into his chest. Nothing too difficult and certainly nothing that would stand in the way of the business that brought him to town. Besides, Mrs. Galloway was an attractive woman, even though she appeared to be several years his senior. He might even enjoy his stay in this back-of-nowhere town more than he’d expected.

  Micah slapped his gelding on the rump and stepped out of the stall. He’d hoped the physical effort required to unhitch and groom his mules would drive away the vision of Katherine Galloway’s fear-filled eyes. His first glimpse into those blue, anguished depths—beautiful, even when brimming with agony—had lingered. Now guilt and disgust pushed the thought aside. Emma had only been dead for a year and a half. How could he be so callous as to notice another woman, regardless of the circumstances?

  Loneliness … that must account for it. He’d had only Zachary’s company for a while now, choosing to live as much of a hermit’s life as possible, rather than chance the pity of his friends. Another reason he’d left Seattle. Too many people—all of them intent on bringing him out of his self-imposed exile. Living in the wilderness and staying away from nosey neighbors would be his preference for a peaceful existence, but he couldn’t do that to his son.

  So what if he hadn’t attended church after Emma’s death? It didn’t mean he no longer believed in God. He was just—angry. Yes, anger described his feelings quite well. Why hadn’t God kept that wheel from breaking as Emma drove her buggy down that steep hill? The Bible told all sorts of tales about angels. Couldn’t He have spared one to save his wife when the buggy rolled and pinned her beneath its weight, crushing the life from her? His only consolation was that Zachary, who should’ve been with her that day, stayed home from school with a fever.

  Micah walked up the stairs located at the back of the livery to the small, dark rooms he and his son called home. No cheerful voice greeted him. No fragrance of a home-cooked meal tickled his senses. Nothing but sadness, regret, and memories whispered in the deep reaches of night when he couldn’t sleep.

  He grabbed a pan from a hook and slapped it onto the stove, then gathered kindling and a match. Cooking wasn’t his strong suit, but he could slice potatoes and onions and make a tolerable hash topped by a couple of eggs.

  A whistle reached his ears right before the door at the top of the landing opened and his son sauntered into the room, a broad smile stretching his freckled cheeks. “Hi, Pa. Dinner almost ready?”

  Micah thumped a bag of potatoes onto the table and pointed at his son. “You’re late. You were supposed to help me load the grain bags after school. That was over an hour ago. Where’ve you been?”

  The bright smile faded. “Sorry, Pa. Guess I forgot. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

  “I don’t have grain to haul tomorrow. You didn’t answer my question.” He jerked his head toward the bag. “Wash these spuds and slice them while I get the stove going.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zachary tumbled some potatoes into the basin, poured a bucket of water over the spuds, then grabbed a cloth and scrubbed the dirt from the skins. “I was talking to … a friend … and we went to the store.”

  Micah heard the hesitation in his son’s voice. He struck a match against the side of the stove and placed the flame beneath the newspaper he’d crammed under the dry kindling. The fire flared up, took hold, and gave a satisfying crackle. Swinging the door shut, he focused his full attention on Zachary. Not that Micah minded the boy making friends. He was glad his son didn’t want to stick his head in the sand like his pa to try to escape the world. But it grated on him that Zachary had chosen to do so when chores waited. “Does this friend have a name?”

  Zachary turned toward his father, his face scrunched and wary. “Lucy Galloway. She lives with her ma at the boardinghouse, and she’s close to my age.”

  Something akin to a rock settled in Micah’s stomach. Galloway. The pretty woman with the little girl was Mrs. Galloway. She’d mentioned a daughter who hadn’t returned home. Wonderful. First, he nearly ran down her younger child, and now Zachary added to the problem by disappearing with the other one.

  Chapter Four

  Katherine willed her hands to stop shaking the next day as she glanced at the clock on her bureau for the tenth time in as many minutes. At least both girls were in school, and she wouldn’t have to worry about them when Mama arrived. There was no help for it—putting off the trip to meet the stage wouldn’t keep the inevitable from happening. She had thirty minutes before the coach pulled in, so she’d best comb her hair and hurry to town.

  She’d need to stiffen her spine and stand up against Mama’s pushy ways now that Daniel wasn’t here to provide a buffer. Thank God for a father who had loved her and hadn’t been afraid to show it. But he’d gone to heaven shortly after her thirteenth birthday and, if anything, Mama grew harsher after his death.

  Katherine brushed her hair, taking careful note of her appearance in the oval mirror hanging above her bureau. Leave it to Mama to find a strand out of place and comment on it in public. She lifted her chin. She would not be intimidated by Mama. With a quick twist and a couple of pins, she secured her hair on top of her head, swiveling both directions to check for any wayward curls. Plucking her hat off a nearby peg, she carefully positioned it and then gathered her courage. When she realized her muscles were bunched, she shook herself, trying to relax. She was a grown woman, for goodness’ sake.

  She made her way downstairs, thankful no one was around at the moment. That new man—what was his name? Oh yes, Jeffery Tucker. Something about him intrigued her. Polite, tidy, and handsome in a rather austere fashion, he held a certain appeal, although he only appeared to be in his mid- to late-twenties.

  Another face flashed … one much more rugged and down-to-earth than Mr. Tucker’s. Micah Jacobs, who’d nearly run over Amanda with his team of mules. The man had barely spoken three senten
ces, and they’d been brusque at best. Why was she thinking of him?

  Daniel had been the exact opposite. Studious but talkative, her husband had always offered a ready word of encouragement to anyone in need. Reading had been his passion. He’d laughingly admitted he wasn’t good with his hands and was thankful the good Lord saw fit to make him a teacher, or they’d probably have starved, although he’d found extra work in the mines during the summer. A shudder shook her. She didn’t want to go to that dark place in her soul.

  What was she doing thinking of men at a time like this? Mama was enough of a challenge without dredging up more.

  Katherine reached for the knob and jerked back in surprise when the door opened.

  A diminutive woman in a gray cloak and matching hat with a dust veil drawn over her face stood outside on the stoop. Clutching a valise with one hand, she flipped up the veil with the other and frowned.

  Katherine blinked. “Mama! What are you doing here?”

  Her mother swept into the foyer, plunking her valise on the floor. She swung to face Katherine, her blue eyes snapping. “Since you didn’t see fit to meet me at the station, I obtained directions and walked.”

  Katherine felt like wilting at the biting tone and withering glance but instead gathered her mother into a hug. “I’m sorry. I thought I had time before the coach arrived. I was headed there right now.”

  The embrace ended abruptly as the older woman pulled back and adjusted her hat, tucking a gray curl, which still showed an occasional glimmer of gold, under the dust veil. “Humph. Well, I’m glad to be off that rattletrap of a conveyance. Where are my granddaughters? I’ve missed them.”

  Katherine briefly closed her eyes. Just like Mama. Not a single pleasant word for her younger daughter. At least her mother loved the girls and treated them well. Katherine could be thankful for that blessing, even if it didn’t extend to her. “They’re in school, but they’ll be home directly. Would you care to sit for a while and have a cup of tea?”