Solo pointed at the empty table where Philip had been sitting and said to Leonard, “The overseer didn’t have to leave.”
Leonard replied, “He wants to keep the peace. Doesn’t want to give Eva any reason to think he’s taking advantage of her.”
Solo raked his fingers through his dark hair. “We should help… let him know he’s welcome at Falls Creek.”
Leonard nodded. “I told Isaac and Eddie to help him build the parsonage starting tomorrow.”
Solo gave Isaac a confirming glance. “And I’ll board his horse as long as he needs me to.”
Claudia stood from the back corner table. “Tell him to bring his laundry to me. I’ll take care of it. And he may use the shower house daily. No sense in going without bathing or wading in the freezing creek until he has plumbing of his own.”
Solo added, “I’ll help him dig a well, too.”
A proud grin widened the creases on Leonard’s weathered face. “No need for me to come up with extra chores for these boys to compete over through the winter months when we have a new neighbor in need.”
The camaraderie pulled Isaac in. He stood too. “I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
“Good man,” Leonard gave him a thump on the shoulder.
Little Zeke ran from his seat to Solo and pulled on his elbow. “I want to help the overseer too!”
Solo smoothed the boy’s hair. “All right, partner. Maybe not with digging the well, but we’ll find you an important job to do.”
Zeke flashed his toothless smile. “Yippee!”
A solemn glaze tightened Leonard’s face. “Frederick should know what is happening. I’ll go talk to him.” His voice broke. “He might not understand, but I should try. This is still his inn and he should be told what’s happening.” Then he met each man’s gaze one by one. “But even if Frederick does not understand, even if he tells us to stop, we know we are doing the right thing and will continue to help Philip until his home and the chapel are complete.”
Claudia’s chin quivered and she leaned her head against Leonard’s shoulder. He held her with one arm and the supporting chair with the other. Neither of them said a word to each other, nor needed to. That was the kind of marriage Isaac wanted someday.
His thoughts turned to Sybil. She was probably just as worried about her father and what would happen to the inn as Eva was, but she hadn’t misplaced her frustration on the new overseer. At least not that he knew of.
Come to think of it, since he spent every hour outside working, he knew little of what went on inside the inn. He was only here for meals, which were a comforting but routine production except for Eva’s outburst this evening.
He needed to see Sybil more, to get to know her better. He couldn’t keep assuming what little he knew of her was all there was to know. He’d made that mistake with women before.
Sybil was more than a wonderful cook, a pretty girl, a sweet spirit. And there was certainly more to life at the inn than farming and sleeping and serving guests. But even with the complications, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. It all drew Isaac deeper into their world, making him hope he never had to go back to Southpoint again.
He didn’t know how or why, but he belonged here, right here amid the herd of problems at Falls Creek, more than he’d ever belonged anywhere.
While Leonard and Claudia lumbered up the stairs to visit Frederick’s room, Eddie scarfed down the last of his meal then left for the bunkhouse, and Bailey took a lantern to the greenhouse. Solo picked up his plate and Eddie’s. He lifted his chin at Zeke. “Let’s help your mama with the dishes tonight, partner.”
Isaac cleared Philip’s table and followed Solo and Zeke into the kitchen with the stack of dirty dishes. Eva and Sybil stood at the sink with their backs to the door. They turned when Zeke ran in ahead of Solo and Isaac. The anger had left Eva’s face and dark circles shadowed her eyes. Maybe it was the evening’s events or maybe Isaac hadn’t noticed before, but now he could see her exhaustion. Her usually straight shoulders were curled forward as though she’d carried the weight of the inn on them all day.
No wondered she’d snapped at Philip. But Solo had stepped in and calmed her, helped her. She hadn’t apologized for her outburst yet nor done anything to make it right, but she would. She had a strong heart and a good man to guide her in life. Sybil needed the same.
A jolt awoke something inside Isaac. He could be that man for Sybil. When life got too complicated, when one trouble piled upon another, he could be the person to sooth her and talk sense into her. And she could be that person for him.
Ever since he’d kissed her in the greenhouse, he’d thought pursuing her would somehow ruin his chance of getting the job. Now he could see he was more afraid of what was growing inside him: the desire to think of the future.
It was terrifying to think of what might come. The future came with too many opportunities to be rejected again. But something about Sybil assured him he had to try. Just as he was trying for the job and might fail and have to move on. He needed to ignore the painful memories of the past and fight the what-ifs of the future. If he ever wanted to end up in a relationship like Leonard and Claudia, he had to focus on Sybil, study her, care for her, and simply enjoy each moment.
Solo set his stacks of plates on the countertop beside the sink. “We’ll handle this chore tonight so you ladies can relax.”
Eva and Sybil widened their eyes at each other, then Eva looked at Solo. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Zeke stacked his dishes with the rest and wrapped his boney arms around his mother’s waist. He smashed his face into the side of her hip, his eyes disappearing into the folds of her skirt. She wiped her sudsy hands on her apron and cooed over her son. “Oh, little man, you’re tired. Let’s get you to the bath.”
“But Mama—”
“No, you’ve had a big day. Come on.” She gave Solo a loving look and mouthed thank you as she passed him, leaving the kitchen.
Sybil stayed at the sink, knocking leftovers from the plates into a scrap bucket. Isaac waited just inside the kitchen door holding the last few dirty dishes. If he would ever move forward with Sybil without a crowd watching, this was his chance.
He set the plates on the countertop and looked at Solo. “No need for all three of us to stay for just a few dishes. I’ll take care of these.” He slipped into the spot Eva had left open at the double basin sink.
Solo didn’t let on that he knew Isaac’s motivation. He simply hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Fair enough. When Eva comes back down, tell her I’m finishing up in the stable.”
Isaac dunked a wet rag into the soapy water. “Will do.”
As soon as Isaac was alone with Sybil, he blew out a mock sigh. “I didn’t think they would ever leave.”
Her sweet laugh could have warmed him all winter. She took the clean dish he handed her and rinsed it in the sink’s second basin, keeping her gaze fixed on her work. “You’re the first man, you know?”
He washed another dish without looking at it. How could he take his eyes off her? Or let the moment pass? “The first man to kiss you?”
Her cheeks instantly flushed. “Well, yes, that too. But I meant you’re the first man to come in here to help me with the dishes.”
He recalled her stillness when he’d kissed her, and how her soft but inexperienced lips had barely moved. “I had a feeling I was.”
“You aren’t talking about the dishes, are you?”
He leaned his head forward, making her look at him. “Have you thought about it or about me since?”
Her lips parted but her breath paused a long moment before she answered. Her words came out on a whisper. “I’ve thought of little else.”
He kept washing as if to prove he could keep working through anything, then handed her another plate to rinse. “I intend to get to know you more.”
She accepted the plate without breaking his gaze. “Have you made my father aware of your intentions?”
Confusion clouded her meadow-green eyes. “Why not? It’s tradition.”
He slid the last few plates into the warm water and shrugged, hoping if he relaxed about the subject, she would too. “It might do more harm than good. I shouldn’t bother him in his condition.”
“Oh.” Her tone lightened. “Will you speak with him when he’s better?”
Poor girl. Frederick wouldn’t get better. “Let’s plow that field when it’s time.”
She nodded but not in agreement with his words. He had stepped up to the sink intending to get closer to her, yet a divide was opening between them. There was one way to make her smile. He nudged her elbow with his. “Dinner was exquisite this evening.”
A girlish grin widened the corners of her lips. “No one has ever called my mince pie exquisite before.”
“I’m proud to be the first for that too.” He passed her another plate to rinse. “But you, Miss Roberts, have been ignored for far too long.”
He meant the words lightheartedly, but she stilled, her hands hovering over the plate without taking it. His vision followed the contours of her delicate features while he waited for her to say whatever was churning in her mind.
At last, she took the plate. “And you, Mr. Owens, will spoil me with your compliments.”
“That isn’t possible.”
She chuckled. “Oh, I assure you it could be quite easily done.”
His smile couldn’t be stopped. Maybe he didn’t have to restrain his feelings around her. His desire, yes. But hide his true feelings, his true self? Maybe not.
* * *
Sybil finished drying the dishes as slowly as possible. She didn’t want this evening to end. As soon as Isaac realized the task was over and there was still milking to be done, he would probably leave for the barn, and she wouldn’t see him again until breakfast.
After she stacked the last cup on the shelf, she dried two plates and left them on the countertop. “Join me for dessert?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Dessert?”
She lifted the lid off a long pan and picked up a silver cake server. “I made strawberry cake for dessert, but everyone scattered after what happened. I think I’ve perfected my strawberry cake recipe. It would be such a shame if no one got to taste it tonight.”
His voice went smooth with charm. “That would be disappointing.”
“Indeed.”
He snatched two forks out of the silverware drawer and held them up, locking her gaze with his. “I would do anything to save you from disappointment.”
She was caught between wanting to laugh at his delightful humor and wanting to get so lost in his eyes that she might never be found. The sugary aroma of the strawberries and icing rose from the cake, begging to be sliced and served. Her hands wouldn’t move, didn’t want to move.
Without breaking their gaze, he laid the forks on the countertop then pulled the cake server from her loose grip. Though she knew what was coming, her skin shivered as he slid his hands around her waist and drew her close. She almost held her breath in anticipation but stopped herself. She’d been waiting a week for this, maybe her whole life, and she wouldn’t stiffen up this time.
When he lowered his face to hers, she raised her chin to meet him halfway. The whiskers of his short beard lightly scratched the skin around her mouth. He smelled like fields and man and dinner and desire. What was she doing? He might not stay at Falls Creek. He might leave like everyone else left the inn.
He spread his fingers along her back as he deepened the kiss. Every muscle in her body threatened to melt right there in the kitchen and leave her in a pool on the polished floor like overheated pudding.
And with that sensation she decided if Isaac Owens left Falls Creek and she never saw him again, it would still be worth the grief to have been kissed like this, like she was a wanted woman, like she was the most beautiful woman in the Land.
He pulled away slowly, then kissed her once more, lightly as though dotting an i after writing a word. And what a word!
She opened her eyes to find him watching her from so closely they shared a breath. His hands left her waist, and he traced the fringe off her forehead with a light touch. He didn’t speak, and she wanted to beg for his thoughts.
But she didn’t have to.
It was clear on his face, in his eyes. He loved her or was close to it. Maybe not the kind of love that compelled a man to promise lifelong fidelity, but certainly a hint of it, or at least a sample of what she felt for him.
She could allow herself to meet his lips halfway for a kiss, but she wouldn’t say a word about her feelings unless he declared his love for her first. That much she’d learned from years of her big sister’s speeches.
A lady never serves up her heart on a platter.
Set out with a man as you mean to carry on. If you want to be pursued for life, you must let him do the pursuing from the start.
But, oh, it was hard! She could so easily tell him she loved him, that she would marry him and bear his children and make a home for him—one that he wanted to come home to every evening for the rest of his life, if only he would admit he loved her too.
It wasn’t just a temptation to tell him how she felt, it seemed like it would be the most natural thing in the world. Women were made to be creatures of feeling and expression. Why should she be encumbered by some cultural rule that said to spark a man’s interest she had to tamp down her own?
Because in her heart she knew it was what he would expect of a potential wife. And it would protect her if he wasn’t serious about her after all. He had only kissed her and spoken sweetly to her; he’d made no promises, and his very future at the inn wasn’t guaranteed.
She didn’t pull away or move closer or attempt to speak but simply waited for his next move, hoping it would be a drop to one knee but knowing better.
At last he broke his gaze. He picked up the cake server and offered her the handle. “You’d better slice it. I would take everything if given half a chance right now.”
* * *
After sharing dessert with Isaac, Sybil’s heart was buzzing with the thrill of being in love and her mind was clouded with questions. She’d hoped he would kiss her once more before leaving, but when Leonard and Claudia came down from her father’s room, Leonard gave Isaac a paternal stare and reminded him of the barn chores. Isaac instantly thanked her for the dessert in a formal tone and left the house.
Now she was alone in her quiet kitchen with a barely touched cake. It would still be good tomorrow, but not as good as it was tonight. Maybe Eva and Solo would eat some this evening after Zeke was in bed. She could wait here for them, but if Eva’s mood hadn’t improved it would ruin her blissful feeling after kissing Isaac. She quickly covered the cake pan, not wanting to be in the kitchen when Eva came back down, not wanting to hear any more complaints about the new overseer.
Poor Philip. He was only at Falls Creek to do his job, his very calling. He didn’t want to leech off the inn or take Eva’s freedom away. Everyone could see it but her. And she would see it in time.
For tonight, however, Eva had done the unthinkable and made a guest feel unwelcome. More than that, she’d driven him away. Isaac had told Sybil how he and Eddie would help to build the parsonage and how Solo would help Philip dig a well. And Claudia had offered to do his laundry. Even Zeke wanted to help the new overseer.
Sybil could do something too. Eva might feel they had all turned against her at first, but soon she would realize supporting the overseer was the right thing to do. It might even make Eva respect her more if she made sure Philip was well fed. Starting with dessert.<
br />
She turned back to the countertop and sliced a generous double portion of the strawberry cake, then placed it in a covered container. No sense in making the overseer choose between eating it all at once or fighting mice for it tomorrow. She wrapped the leftover rolls too and filled a jug with milk. She nestled it all into a basket and added a bag of venison jerky.
Philip might be cold out there in the chapel. She couldn’t remember if the other overseers had finished bricking the fireplace before they went back to their villages. She ducked into the linen closet beside the downstairs washroom and grabbed one of the wool blankets her grandmother had crocheted long before she was born.
Footsteps creaked the upstairs floorboards. She yanked off her apron and threw on her coat and hat. If Eva caught her now, she’d never hear the end of it. Having done the charitable thing would earn her respect; being stopped before the fact would earn her a scolding. She’d had enough of Eva’s bellowing for one night.
She slipped out the inn’s side door and tiptoed through the frosty grass around to the front. Every star in the night sky applauded her boldness and seemed to be shining even brighter because Isaac had kissed her. Even the frigid wind couldn’t steal the heat from her cheeks.
All the way across the yard’s dead winter grass she thought of Isaac. His warmth, his vitality. He was everything she could want in a sweetheart, in a husband, everything she dreamed he would be. And now he had kissed her—twice! Yet, he hadn’t declared his love for her. He did state his intentions. Still, he hadn’t spoken to her father. Come to think of it, he sounded as though he was refusing to speak to her father. So maybe her father wasn’t of sound mind right now, but he had been and would be again. Isaac should have at least made the effort. If he respected the traditions, he would have.
Maybe it had nothing to do with traditions; maybe he simply wasn’t serious about her, just as she’d feared all along. He did enjoy joking around. Her mother always said men like that joked to avoid responsibility. If only her mother were here now to talk to during the throws and pangs of her first love.
Uncharted Promises (The Uncharted Series Book 8) Page 11