Micah relaxed. “If you have no objections, then it’s fine … Katherine. At least when we’re talking in private.”
“Good. Now, how about getting you back on your feet? It’s been three days since your fall, and Doc Sanders said you could try again today, if you wish.”
A mirthless chuckle broke from his throat. “Oh, I wish. In fact, I insist. If I stay here much longer, I’ll have bed sores on top of the burned skin and banged-up body.” He winced. “Pardon me. That was rude and thoughtless. You’ve been very kind to offer this bed and our rooms.”
She waved an airy hand. “Nothing to apologize for.” She held out the crutches. “Here you go. Take it slow and easy this time. See if you can make it to the sitting room.”
He reached for them and his fingertips brushed hers. The tingling that ran up his arm almost made him jerk back, but he controlled the urge. What was it about this woman that affected him so? It would soon be two years since he’d lost his wife. Many men remarried within that space of time, but he hadn’t been able to even look at another woman that way—until now.
Katherine Galloway was not only a fine-looking woman, she was kindhearted, generous, and from all he could tell, a hard worker to boot. Her children adored her, and Zachary seemed to get along with her, as well. He shook his head. What was he thinking? She’d made it plain she was a successful businesswoman with no need for a man. “Thanks. I think I’ve got it from here.” He tucked the crutches under his arm and swung forward, working to keep from gazing at her again.
“So, what’s been happening in town since I took to my bed? I’ve gotten snippets out of Zachary, but not much.” He wasn’t typically so talkative, but his nerves were getting the better of him with Katherine walking so close. He felt shy and bumbling all at the same time. Emma had never affected him this way, but they’d known one another since grammar school.
“I think the church is planning a social next month, and the mines appear to be doing well, if you can judge by the number of men who come into town on the weekends.” She paused in the doorway to the parlor and waited for him to hobble past. “Maybe you’d like to come to church with us some time and attend the social?” Pink tinged her cheeks and she hurried on. “With Zachary, of course. I mean, you’re both welcome to join our family.”
“Thanks. I’ll think on it, but I’ll probably pass on attending church.” He settled into a wingback chair. “Looks like I made it without taking a tumble this time. Where are the children? Zachary didn’t come to my room this morning.”
“I gave them permission to take their fishing poles down to the Powder River to see if they can catch anything for dinner. Mandy’s been begging to go, and Lucy and Zachary promised to watch her.”
“Ah, that’s good.” The words drifted off into silence, and the room seemed to close around him. He cast about, wondering what he might talk about to keep her close, but nothing came to mind.
“Here comes Mrs. Roberts and Beth.” Katherine tipped her head at the two women entering the room.
Micah’s heart sank clear down to the toes of his work boots. The last thing he wanted was to be cornered by two women he didn’t know. Maybe he could claim to be tired and head back to his room—but the prospect of lying in that bed and staring at those walls was not pleasant. Better to take his chances out here and hope they didn’t stay long. “Ladies.” He nodded and forced a smile.
Mrs. Roberts swooped across the room—at least, she tried. Her deep green skirts flared around her ample figure. “Beth, dear, come along and meet this nice gentleman.” She stopped in front of him and waited for her niece to catch up. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet, I’m afraid.”
Katherine moved forward, and her pale yellow dress rustled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Mrs. Roberts, allow me to introduce Mr. Jacobs. You’ve met his son, Zachary.” She turned toward Micah. “This is Mrs. Wilma Roberts and her niece, Beth. She’s the one who helped the children get you back to your room when you fell. They’ll be lodging here for the coming week.”
“Or more.” Mrs. Roberts’s voice boomed. “At least, that’s our hope.” She extended her hand and gripped his with surprising strength. “It’s good to see you up and around again.”
She settled into a brocade chair across from his and motioned Beth to take the one alongside. “It appears you’re on the mend now.” She indicated the crutches. “Now tell me, young man, what do you do for a living? Are you a miner, or something else?”
Startled by the abrupt question, he cast a glance at Katherine, who gave a gentle smile.
“I need to do some mending and start dinner preparations … if you’ll excuse me.” She inclined her head and walked from the room.
Micah felt as though his lifeline had been yanked from his hands. What was wrong with him? He could certainly carry on a brief conversation with this matron and her niece on his own. Now what had she asked? “Mining? No. Although I’ve dabbled at that in the past. I own a livery stable in town. Or, at least, I used to.”
Her look of expectancy changed to one of disappointment. “Used to? Did you go out of business?”
“No. It burned to the ground a few weeks ago.” The words came out clipped and hard, and he turned his head to the side, not wanting her to see the pain that surely must show.
She sat back in her chair. “My dear man, I’m sorry. Do you plan to rebuild?”
He hunched a shoulder. “I’m not sure.”
“What a pity. I pray your circumstances improve.” She reached across the short space and touched Beth on the shoulder. “We really should be going. I want to walk to the general store to see if they can match a button I lost. Good day, Mr. Jacobs.”
Beth stood and gave a small curtsy. The shy gaze she fixed on him was warm and full of sympathy. “I do hope you’re able to rebuild your business, Mr. Jacobs, and that your leg heals soon.”
Micah relaxed at the kindness evident in the younger woman’s voice. “Uh, thank you, Miss. Much appreciated.”
He watched them leave, wondering where Mrs. Roberts’s questions were leading. Was she hoping to find a rich husband for her niece, or was she genuinely concerned? Either way, she’d apparently gotten her answers. Just as well. The last thing he needed was someone pushing a girl into his path hoping for a match.
He hoisted himself up and tucked the crutches under his arms. He needed to get out of the house. Thankfully his lungs hadn’t been seriously damaged by the smoke. Fresh air sounded good, but Micah wasn’t sure he’d be up to navigating the rutted road leading to town. Not to mention his throbbing leg and waning strength.
Footsteps thumped up the stairs leading to the front door. A knock sounded, and then the front door opened seconds later. “Hello? Mrs. Galloway? Anyone at home?”
Micah hobbled toward the spacious foyer, recognizing Pastor Russell’s voice. Normally he wouldn’t be interested in visiting with the town preacher, but this man had helped pull him out of a burning building. The least he could do was be hospitable until Katherine appeared. It was, after all, her home, not his. Pain knifed his chest as he remembered he had no home but this one—at least for the moment. “Pastor. In here.” He shimmied around the end of the divan and limped his way to the open archway.
The pastor appeared, hat in hand. “You’re the man I wanted to see. How you doing, Jacobs?”
“Tolerable, Pastor Russell. In the absence of the landlady, I’ll escort you back to the parlor and offer you a seat, if you’d care to come. Or better yet, I was thinking of sitting on the porch in one of those wicker chairs. I’ve been hankering to get into the open air.”
“Seth, remember? We don’t stand on formality around here. Or Pastor Seth, if you insist. And the porch sounds fine.”
The man followed Micah’s thumping crutches across the foyer, then stepped in front of him to open the front door, waiting for him to pass through. Following Micah, the pastor lowered himself onto a chair. “Glad to see you up and around.”
Micah san
k into a chair and propped his crutches beside him. He’d lived so much of his life in the outdoors, doing a man’s work, that it was a relief to be out of the house. He inhaled the fragrance of the air, freshly washed after last night’s thunderstorm. “Today’s the first time I’ve been out of bed since the accident. Well, other than a few days ago, when I tried and tipped over.”
The pastor’s mouth twitched. “Oh?”
“Took a tumble while learning the ropes with these sticks. I think I’ve got the hang of them now, as long as no doors or rugs get in the way.” He allowed a chuckle to slip out.
“I’m glad you can joke about it. You do any real damage?”
“Set me back a day or so, but Doc says I’m on track again. I think I’ll be able to toss these things soon. The swelling’s going down, and the dressing on the burn only has to be changed every other day.”
Pastor Seth rotated his hat through his fingers. “Good. So, Jacobs, what are your plans?”
“I’m not rightly sure.” Micah bowed his head, then met the man’s steady gaze. “I’ll be honest. I don’t have the money to rebuild. I was thinking I’d see about renting room in a barn on the edge of town, if I can find someone willing. The town needs a blacksmith, even if I don’t have the means for a full livery. I still have my team of mules and my horse. At least my wagon was parked away from the building and wasn’t destroyed. I can rent it out to those who need it, and do some smithy work as soon as I’m able. That’s about as far as I’ve gone in my planning.”
“Those all sound like fine ideas.” The pastor nodded slowly. “Have you thought about asking your friends to help you rebuild?”
Micah’s muscles tensed. The man meant well, he knew that, but the idea of asking for help soured him to his very core. All his growing-up years, Pa had taught him to be self-sufficient, never beholden to anyone. If anything, he needed to find ways to give back to the community and those around him. That’s what a man did. He shook his head. “I can’t do that. For one thing, I really don’t know many people yet, and for another, they have their own work and responsibilities. No one wants to be burdened with another man’s problems.”
“But that’s what the community is for. We’re a body, and we need to operate as such. The Bible says that just like a body isn’t only a foot or an arm, the church isn’t made up of one kind of person. We all have talents and gifts. We all look after the other—step in when someone is hurting.”
“I’m not part of your church, Pastor Seth. I’m not trying to be rude, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being frank, but I have no desire to be part of any church.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m not going to give up.” The pastor grinned. “I have a bit of a stubborn streak myself.”
Micah’s shoulders relaxed a mite. “Your choice, I guess. But don’t expect me to show up on the church’s doorstep anytime soon.”
“Before I go, would it be all right if I pray with you?”
Micah clenched his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to hurt this man who’d done nothing but try to do good, but he couldn’t string him along. Honesty right up front was best. “I don’t think so. God’s done me no favors these past two years, and I can muddle through life as well on my own. But thank you for offering.” He reached for a crutch. “I think I need to lie down for a spell. Would you like me to call Mrs. Galloway? I’m sure she’d be pleased to see you.”
Micah wanted to bite the tip of his tongue. That hadn’t come out right. Now the preacher would think he wasn’t pleased to see him, and he hadn’t meant that at all. But probably better to let it lie than scramble to explain. He’d dug a deep enough hole as it was, and trying to fix it might plant him that much deeper.
Lucy leaned her elbow on the grassy bank, letting her line dangle in the water. She was glad Mr. Jacobs had been up and around for a couple of days now, so Zachary could go fishing with her. They hadn’t caught anything the last time they’d come, so Ma allowed them to come again, so long as they brought Mandy along too. But she’d done nothing but fuss about not catching a fish the last time they came.
The line gave a light jerk and she sat up straight, her fingers clutching the pole. Another tug and she snatched it back hard. “I’ve got one!” She jumped to her feet and took a cautious step backward, lowering the tip of her willow stick till it almost touched the water.
Mandy dropped her own homemade pole on the bank and came running. “Let me see, Lucy! How big is it? Can we keep it?”
Zachary hovered over her shoulder. “Easy now. Don’t pull too hard. Walk a couple steps and pull him on in. You don’t want your line to break.”
“I know. I’ve been fishing since I was younger than Amanda.” Lucy worked the pole back and forth, then eased it forward until she felt the fish tire. After a couple more minutes of allowing it to dart around, she steadily walked back until she could see the trout rise to the surface. It rolled on its side and its blue-green underbelly glistened, the bright sunlight reflecting on its prominent pink stripe. It must be well over a foot long. For an instant, a pang of regret struck her at hooking such a lovely creature, but she shook it off. If they caught enough, Ma would fry trout for supper. Her mouth watered at the thought of the fried potatoes and onions she’d serve on the side.
Enough playing this fish; it was time to land her prize. She snapped her pole back, knowing her catch was exhausted and would be easy to land. At the exact moment she pulled, though, the trout seemed to get a second wind and plunged forward, pulling against her line. The string broke and the sudden release of weight sent Lucy stumbling backward. Her fish disappeared under the surface.
“Oh no, Lucy! See what you went and did!” Mandy sent up a wail that could probably be heard all the way home. “Why’d you pull on the line so hard? You always tell me not to do that.”
Lucy tossed her pole on the ground and plopped down next to it. “Hush, Mandy. There’s no need to shout.”
“Yes, sirree. I wanted to eat that trout. He was a whopper. Ma’s going to be disappointed.” Amanda sank to her knees and clutched the broken end of the line, gazing at it as though staring at it hard enough could bring the fish back.
“Then I guess we’ll have to try again.” Lucy ruffled the little girl’s hair and grinned. “Maybe you’ll catch the next one and show me the right way to land him.”
Zachary sank onto the grass beside them, a rusty can in his hand. “Want me to put another hook and worm on for you? I don’t mind.”
Lucy eyed the can that was packed with moss and worms they’d dug right before they started fishing. This was the part she hated—threading the worm on the hook. Pa had taught her how when she’d been Mandy’s age, but she’d never had the heart to teach her little sister. Ma didn’t like to fish, and they hadn’t gone out often since Pa died. That was one thing she enjoyed about Zachary, besides the fact she could talk to him so easy. He loved to fish, too, and didn’t make her feel like a sissy for not liking to bait her own hook. “Thanks.”
Mandy scooted closer. “Can I watch?”
Zachary shrugged. “Sure, I can teach you.” He finished tying off the hook then plucked a worm from the can and began threading it on.
“Ouch! Doesn’t that hurt?” Mandy inched away but her gaze stayed glued to the worm. “I don’t think I want to do that.”
Zachary didn’t look up. “Naw. They don’t have feelings.”
“Is he dead?”
“Nope. They have to wriggle around so the trout notice and want to eat them.”
Mandy shuddered. “Why would anything want to eat a worm? They’re yucky.”
Lucy laughed and reached over to tickle her little sister. “Not to fish, silly. To them it’s like eating a stick of candy.”
“Eww!” Mandy wrinkled her nose. “No, it’s not. Will you put a new worm on for me, Zachary? I don’t think I want to learn.”
Zachary grinned. “Yep, doesn’t bother me.” He worked in silence for another minute, then helped Mandy get situated
on the bank. “This is a good spot. I’ll bet you catch a big one. But be sure you keep a close watch on your line and …” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper while casting a glance at Lucy. “Don’t jerk on it hard if you get a nibble.”
“Okay, Zac. I won’t.” She beamed at him and then turned her attention to the tip of her pole.
Lucy came up next to him and gave him a playful push. “Don’t jerk on it hard, huh? I suppose you’re going to remind me of that whenever we go fishing?”
“I might.” He laughed and snatched up his pole.
“You’d better not, or I might have to tell your secret.” She gave him a sly look.
He kept walking, stopping a short ways upstream at a still pool. “I don’t have any secrets, so I guess I can keep teasing you.”
“No? I saw the way you looked at Beth last night.”
He turned a startled face her way. “I didn’t … I don’t …”
Lucy sobered at his distress but let him squirm a little longer, like a worm on a hook. She finally relented. “I’m sorry, Zachary. I was joshing. I won’t say anything, I promise. You’ve never told anybody my secret, and I won’t tell yours.”
He heaved a big sigh. “Thanks. But it’s silly ’cause she’s way older than me. I think she’s kind of pretty, but I feel sorry for her that her aunt is trying to marry her off. Beth doesn’t seem very happy to me.”
Lucy nodded. “I know. But you’re almost fifteen. How do you know she’s way older?”
He looked thoughtful. “I dunno. I guess I figured she must be at least seventeen.”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
He jumped backward like he’d been slapped. “No, sir. Not me.”
“Want me to find out?” She almost giggled at his discomfort but chose not to. Zachary had become her best friend, and she wouldn’t hurt him for the world. She felt bad about all the horrible things he and his pa had been through and wanted to help. If that meant talking to the quiet girl who’d come to live at their house, she’d do it.
Blowing on Dandelions: A Novel (Love Blossoms in Oregon Series) Page 14