by Dawn Kinzer
Annie’s eyebrows shot up. “Nice? Have you forgotten what I’ve told you? How she spread those awful rumors about Sarah and Reverend Caswell having an affair? It almost destroyed their relationship, not to mention almost ruining their reputations. The reverend could have lost his job.”
“That was years ago, and from what I’ve observed, she’s been forgiven. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be attending the same church as the Caswells, let alone serving as the pianist.”
Annie scowled. “Still, that doesn’t mean I trust her—or want to be her friend.”
“I understand.” Hope didn’t blame Annie for her feelings, but something about Rebecca intrigued her. Hope reached across the counter and nudged her cousin’s shoulder and grinned. “But, I know you’ll also understand if I need to follow my own heart on this matter.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when she stabs you in the back.” Annie picked up the towels from the counter. “You didn’t have anything planned after supper, did you?”
Hope tilted her head. “Now, what type of arrangement do you think I could possibly have made in the last few hours?”
“I don’t know. You could have decided to spend the evening with your new friend.” Annie winked.
“You’re incorrigible!” A soft laugh escaped Hope’s lips. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll explain later.” A light ruby shade colored Annie’s face. “Just be ready to go for a short ride.”
chapter seven
Hope stepped down from the buggy and surveyed the two-story white farmhouse with the wide porch. The architecture included simple lines, but the home looked fresh and clean, as though recently painted. A lilac bush as large as a tree grew in front, as well as several rose bushes that needed pruning.
“Annie, are you finally going to tell me where we are?”
“Ben and Jake’s farm.”
Attracted to Ben, yet not completely trusting the mysterious man who seemed to be keeping secrets, she’d hoped to avoid him longer than one day. What was Annie up to? “Why would you bring me here without telling me?”
“I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.” Annie tied the horse to a small railing next to the house so he wouldn’t wander off with the buggy. “I’ll explain once we find them.” She perched one hand on her hip, and shielded her eyes with the other. The sun was just at the right height in the sky to blind her at this angle.
“Jake!” Annie waved wildly at him hiking up a slight hill with a collie at this side. He must have come from the barn below where several cows were mooing. She strolled toward him.
Hope remained behind. A meadowlark landed on a nearby fence and offered her a song before taking flight. The sun still shared some warmth, and Hope drank in the quiet and beauty surrounding her.
The couple drew near. “Hope, what is your cousin scheming now?” Jake, dressed in overalls, laughed and wiped his hands on a red handkerchief. Surrounded by the peaceful setting, no wonder he was so enthusiastic about farming and living in the country.
“I don’t have a clue.” Hope shot a questioning look at Annie. “Are you ever going to tell us?”
“Not until we’re all together,” Annie said smugly.
“I’ll look for Ben after I wash up a bit.” Jake shoved the handkerchief back into his overall pocket. “Please help yourselves to milk or lemonade in the icebox. I’d get it for you, but I don’t think you’d want to be served with these dirty hands.”
“Thanks. I’ll pour four lemonades.” Annie followed Jake and the dog up the porch steps, then turned. “Hope, are you coming?”
“You go on. I’d like to enjoy the view for a moment.”
“I’ll get the drinks and be right out.”
Hope had never thought farms scenic, but the fields before her, basking in the fading sunlight, were breathtaking.
Where is Ben? The mere thought of him made her feel like she’d swallowed the Monarch butterflies dancing in the air next to her. Since Jake had just come from the barn, Ben obviously wasn’t there. A small building that looked fairly new sat at a distance to the right. Odd place for a shed. Maybe Ben was inside putting tools away, or doing whatever else farmers did in sheds. Might as well explore. The sooner he was found, the sooner they’d all learn Annie’s secret.
Hope reached for the door handle, but it swung open, and in her haste to move out of the way, she tripped and fell back on her bottom. She closed her eyes as a sharp pain shot through her hip. “Ow!”
The door to the shed slammed shut. “What are you doing here?”
Hope opened her eyes and looked up. Ben, a deep frown on his face, leaned over her. So he wasn’t happy to see her. He didn’t need to knock her down. “I was looking for you.”
His brows knit together and confusion filled his eyes. “Why?”
She sighed. “If you help me up, I might be willing to tell you.”
“Sorry. You surprised me.” He reached down, and grasping her hand, pulled her up with such force she collided with his firm chest. His other arm wrapped around her waist and steadied her.
It lasted only a second, but it was enough. Hope’s breath caught, and her heart felt like it was tumbling down a never-ending staircase.
Ben stepped back. “So, um, what are you doing here?” He glanced at the shed behind him, then up at the house.
“I’m actually not sure.” Hope brushed what dirt she could feel from her skirt.
“But you just said...”
While in his embrace, she’d inhaled a familiar pine scent. She sniffed the air between them. “Were you painting in there?”
His face paled. “Why would you ask that?”
“You smell like turpentine.” Her curiosity had been piqued, and she wanted to see inside. “Are you refinishing furniture?”
“Furniture?”
“What else would you be painting in a shed?”
His shoulders visibly relaxed, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile as he pocketed his hands. “Right, what else would I possibly be doing?”
Why wasn’t he giving her any direct answers? “Would you show me?”
“I don’t think you’d find it all that interesting.”
“You could be wrong. I might think it fascinating.” Hope inwardly sighed. If she wanted answers, she needed to be willing to give them. “I have my reasons. While rummaging through our attic back home, I found the rocking chair my grandfather used as a boy. I thought it would be special to give it to my own child someday.” Was that too personal? Letting him know that, despite their previous conversation about his mother giving up singing for her family, Hope wanted children? “But, I’m afraid I made a mess of it. You might be able to give me some ideas of how I might fix my mistakes when I return to New York.”
Annie yelled and waved to them from the porch, gesturing for them to join her and Jake.
“Forget the shed.” Ben gestured for her to follow. “There’s something behind you riding all the way out here, and I’m curious to see what your cousin is up to.”
They hiked back to the house and up the steps. Hope sat in a rocking chair next to Annie’s, but the men both leaned against the porch railing and faced them.
Hope glanced at Ben and caught him staring at her. He turned away, and her cheeks warmed. “Annie, what’s going on? The way you’re acting, it must be something important.” Hope needed to concentrate on what her cousin had to say, not think about that too short, wonderful moment in Ben’s arms.
“I was talking to Mrs. Jorgenson earlier today about my idea for a town library.”
Forget about Ben. Annie had Hope’s attention now. “Aren’t you rushing things? You never mentioned anything about a library until yesterday.”
“True, but it’s something I’ve dreamed of for a long time, and after your encouragement...well, I couldn’t sleep last night. I began to wonder if I could really do it.”
“Of course you can.” Hope sat at the edge of her seat. “But first you need to have
a building, and after that, there’s so much more to consider. Like where you’ll get enough books.”
“I already have most of that figured out.” Annie’s eyes glowed. “And I’ve never seen Mrs. Jorgenson so excited! As a former teacher and always a book-lover, she has vast knowledge of what we might want available, and she has plenty of time to help get everything set up and established.”
“That’s wonderful, but—” Hope stopped herself. What was she doing? She had no right or desire to squelch anyone’s dreams. “Tell us more.”
“There may be a building in town that will work perfectly. Mrs. Jorgenson heard the other day that the town has claimed an abandoned house down by the river. The owner died two years ago, and they’ve never been able to find any living relatives. So, the property will be sold, with the proceeds going into the town treasury.”
Jake hopped up and sat on the railing. “Where’s the money going to come from to purchase it?”
“I don’t plan to buy it—I want the town to donate the building. If we’re going to have a public library, we need the community’s support.”
“I know the house you’re talking about. It’s pretty run-down, Annie.” Ben rubbed his jaw. “It’ll take a lot of work to get it in shape.”
“That’s where you and Jake come in. You’re both handy with repairs and carpentry.” Annie wet her lips. “And yesterday, you both said you were willing to help. Does that offer still stand?”
The two brothers eyed each other, and a big smile grew on Jake’s face. He nodded. “It does, but we’ll probably need more hands than just ours.”
“There is one problem.” Lines formed in Annie’s forehead. “Someone else is interested in purchasing the property. If we can’t convince the town council that we need a library more than we need money in the treasury, we won’t stand a chance of getting the building and land donated.”
Jake shrugged as though another buyer wasn’t a problem. “Then, you’ll just have to figure out a way to make them believe.”
Only three days prior, Hope had arrived in Riverton not knowing how she was ever going to realize her goals while living in the small town. And now...she was seeing Annie’s aspirations fall into place. It didn’t seem quite fair.
Lord, please remove this seed of jealousy before it can take root in my heart.
Maybe it was only her own fault that she hadn’t experienced any success with her designs. Maybe Hope needed to be more courageous and willing to take action like Annie. She’d spend every spare minute sketching from now on, and she’d set aside her pride and speak to Clara about her skills as a seamstress.
“Hope? What do you think?” Annie whispered in her direction.
“I’ll do anything I can. I promise.” Hope meant it. How could she not help? Annie had welcomed Hope to Riverton with open arms and done everything possible to make her feel at home.
Annie leaned back in her chair. “I’m so relieved. You don’t know how worried I’ve been that you’d all think I was crazy.”
“You, a crazy redhead?” Jake chuckled.
Annie made a silly face at him.
Their relationship seemed so easy, except that Jake didn’t seem to have a clue as to how much Annie really cared for him.
***
No point in tossing and turning all night. Ben crawled out of bed, slipped his trousers and shirt on, and tiptoed down the stairs. Not that he needed to be quiet. Jake’s snoring coming from the other room would drown out any creaks Ben made stepping on the old wooden boards.
He lit a lantern on the kitchen table, then stepped outside, closing both the front and screen doors behind him. The moon’s glow gave off enough light, he could have made it to the shed without the lantern’s help. An owl hooted in the distance.
Inside the shed, he lit a second lantern and set one on either side of a standing easel located behind him. He grabbed the canvas he’d stretched over a wooden frame earlier and prepped with white paint. A blank, fresh surface had the potential of becoming a vision that was both exiting and beautiful—like Hope. The more he spent time with her, the more he wanted to know and understand the woman within. She was like a lovely painting, with colorful tones and depth.
Ben picked up a piece of charcoal and began sketching a woman’s profile—the very one he’d memorized during the church service the day before.
Hope had made it clear that she wanted her fashion designs to be accepted—loved by women. But she had yet to achieve her goal. Ben hadn’t missed the brief disappointment in her face when Annie shared her excitement about the library and how opportunities had suddenly presented themselves. He understood the difficulty in celebrating someone else’s success when your own felt elusive. Yet, with genuine enthusiasm, she agreed to help Annie.
Good thing he’d decided to check on Jake earlier that evening and stepped outside the shed just in time to stop Hope from entering. Ben had gotten after Jake for not keeping both women from wandering around the property, but his brother was right. It wasn’t his fault that Hope surprised Ben. Keeping his artwork from the world was his choice—and his problem. That burden shouldn’t be placed on Jake’s shoulders.
She hadn’t discovered his secret, but what would Hope have thought if she’d gotten inside and seen his work?
Despite the close call, for a brief but wonderful moment, he’d held her. Even if purely by accident. It would never happen again—it couldn’t. He’d never toy with a woman’s affections.
Until Ben could figure out his own life, his place was here, helping Jake. But Hope wasn’t the type of woman who could be satisfied living on a farm, milking cows, and raising crops. She needed the excitement, lifestyle, and opportunities a big city offered. He could never offer her or anyone else that existence.
Besides, Hattie, the woman he once thought he might marry, had made it quite clear that women want and need financial stability. Even then, Ben had chosen to continue painting instead of pursuing a more lucrative profession.
He brushed the charcoal lines until no trace of them remained, stared at the empty canvas, then flung the charcoal against the wall. Why did he keep trying to fool himself? He didn’t want to continue living this way—lonely, hiding behind a closed door.
But what do you do when you feel powerless to change anything?
chaptER EIGHT
Why couldn’t she get the color right? Either the shade was too blue or overly green. Even holding the sketch in the direct sunlight beaming through the dining room window didn’t help. Hope tossed the paper onto the pile of discarded failures accumulating on the table.
Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast, and that was hours ago. Leftover ham from last night’s supper, cheese, and fresh bread would serve her well. Maybe she’d find more success mixing paint colors after satisfying her gnawing hunger.
The doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and Annie had left for her shift at the store without mentioning any visitors. Since Hope wasn’t scheduled to work that day, she’d planned to spend time alone.
She peeked through the curtains covering the window to the left of the door. What could he possibly want? She opened the door with a casual air. “Hello, Ben.” She smiled at the handsome, mysterious man with a twinkle in his eyes. “How may I help you?”
A wide grin grew on his face.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
“What way?”
“Like the Cheshire Cat in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”
“If you invite me in, I’ll show you.”
“Please.” Hope stepped back and made a waving gesture. “Come in.”
“This way.” He removed his straw hat and placed it on the small table next to the door with the ease of someone familiar with the house. Then he pointed to the oval mirror hanging between the coat rack and the staircase leading up to the second floor. “Take a look.”
Oh, dear! How embarrassing. A pale green streak ran across her forehead, and a small blob covered
the tip of her nose. Heat shot through her face. Why didn’t she check the mirror before opening the door? “Please excuse me.”
In the kitchen, it took only a minute to scrub the water-based paint from her face. She checked her reflection on the side of a shiny pot. Not a speck of green remained. Hope took a deep breath and strolled out of the room, expecting to find Ben waiting for her in the parlor.
Instead, he stood next to the dining room table, shuffling through the drawings lying there—her drawings. Hope could only imagine what he thought, and she prepared for an onslaught of degrading remarks.
“I don’t recall you asking permission to look at my work,” Hope said in a polite, but firm tone. “Besides, after expressing your strong opinions on the train, I wouldn’t think you’d find anything on the table interesting.”
“You’d be wrong.” Ben held up her last attempt. “This one is actually—nice.”
Nice. Hope groaned inside. She didn’t want nice. She wanted stunning. Striking. Exquisite. “Thank you.” She slid the dress design from his grasp. “But the color isn’t quite right.”
He glanced at it again and shrugged. “Looks fine to me.”
Of course it does. She held up a peacock feather and pointed. “I’d like to show it in this rich, blue-green color, but I can’t seem to get the right mix.”
Ben studied the design, then her box of watercolors. “Add a small amount of that yellow in with what you already have mixed.”
“I’ve already tried several other yellow tones. They only worsened the hue.”
“But not that one.”
Hope sighed. If she disregarded his suggestion, she might reap consequences later. “To appease you and avoid any further discussion...” Hope dabbed a clean brush in the yellow and mixed it in with the other paint. “I—I didn’t think—this is it! The color is perfect.”
“And it took a farmer to figure it out.” His eyes and tone of voice let her know he was teasing her.
“I should be humiliated, but I’m actually grateful. Thank you.” Hope offered a generous smile. No longer hungry and finally concocting the right shade of paint, she was eager to get back to her design. But, it would be rude to shoo him out the door. “Now what can I do for you? You must have had a reason for showing up at our door.”