Season of Love (Cutter's Creek Book 11)

by Vivi Holt

  “I saw a few missing shingles on your roof the other day, so I brought some with me. The barn isn’t in great shape – I’ll take a look at that as well. Also, you’ll need a bigger wagon. I know you can walk to town from here, but with the little ones you’ll probably want a wagon that fits you all. We can deal with that later. Anything else, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Moore. I really do appreciate your help. It’s very kind of you.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  As she watched him return to the sleigh for the rest of the groceries, Margaret couldn’t help noticing the way his chaps clung to his muscular legs, or how his coat stretched taut across his wide shoulders. She blushed. Why couldn’t she have discovered how wonderful he was before the children came to stay? There was no way he’d be interested in her now. He wouldn’t want to saddle himself with six children not his own. He was showing her quite a lot of attention, but it was likely just him being thoughtful and concerned about the children. She couldn’t think about him in any other way. It wasn’t sensible.

  She picked up a bag of groceries and carried it inside to unpack in the larder. There was no time to daydream about Heath Moore. She still had to put away the groceries and wash the breakfast dishes.

  “Miss Hutchins?” Elspeth came up beside her in the kitchen, twirling one toe in place, her hands linked behind her back.

  “Yes?” asked Margaret.

  “Would ya like me to clear the table and wash the dishes fer ya?”

  Margaret’s eyebrows arched. She bent down and set her hands gently on the girl’s arms. “Why, thank you, Elspeth. That would be wonderful.”

  Elspeth smiled for the first time and skipped back to the table.

  The rest of the children had scattered and were nowhere to be seen. Margaret would have to work on getting them all to do chores, but that would come in time. For now, she just wanted them to feel secure and loved, and wasn’t even sure how to go about doing that. Father God, please help me. I feel so inadequate. These children need parents, but I’m all they’ve got now. I don’t know what to do or how to get through to them. Please fill me with Your love for them. Help me to show them compassion, and reveal to me what they need. Also, thank You for Mr. Moore and Your provision through him. Amen.

  An hour later, as she and Elspeth finished wiping the last dishes dry and putting them away in the cabinet, she peered through the kitchen window and saw Heath by the barn, splitting firewood. A small pile of split wood lay beside him, and he threw another piece onto the pile as she watched. Then he stood and stretched out his back, peering toward the house. Afraid he’d catch her staring at him, Margaret ducked out of sight, her cheeks flushing with warmth and her heart hammering in her chest. He looked so strong and handsome swinging that axe, easily splitting the thick logs in two with one strike.

  She’d been running low on firewood and wondered what she’d do to keep it up. This was her first winter in the farmhouse, and she wasn’t used to taking care of such a large property. When she’d lived above the schoolhouse, families in town had always provided firewood and maintained the place for her. Now in the countryside, it seemed that she was out of sight and out of mind. She hardly ever had visitors anymore, and folks seemed to have forgotten about helping out. But not Heath.

  As she stood with the dish cloth in her hands, she pictured him in her mind, standing by the barn and chopping the axe downward into a short log. She imagined his muscles flexing beneath his coat and scarf, and made herself blush again.

  She was woken from her daydream by Heath piling the split logs by the back door. Then his voice came through the wall: “Just going up on the roof now, Miss Hutchins, if you need me.”

  “Okay!” she answered, looking around. Elspeth must have run off while she was wool-gathering. She snuck back to the window and peeked out again, watching as he adjusted the lean of a ladder against the eaves and began his ascent.

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  Margaret spun around. Mary Beth stood in the kitchen smirking at her. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “Nothing. I was just …”

  “I don’t care.” Mary Beth’s smirk faded, and her face became impassive again. “Why’re there so many paintin’s all over the place?”

  “Well, I love to paint –”

  “Just so’s ya know, I don’t trust ya.” Mary Beth interrupted.

  “Oh?”

  “Nope. Not at all. Don’t think yer foolin’ me, ‘cause ya ain’t. I know ‘bout grown-ups, and ya got some reason ya took us all in. Dunno what it is yet, but I’ll figger it out. And when I do, the others’ll leave with me. They think yer kinda nice now ’n don’t wanna leave. But when they know what yer really like, they’ll change their minds. Just ya wait and see.”

  Margaret took a step toward Mary Beth, and the girl stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. “Mary Beth … I’m sorry you feel that way. But what I said before is true. I care about you and what happens to you. My only agenda is that you have a place to stay that feels like a home, somewhere you can all be comfortable, secure and loved. That’s all I want. I know you don’t trust me now, but I hope you will in time. I’m not hiding anything, I don’t want anything from you other than this – that you show me some respect in front of the others. That’s all for now. Do you think you could do that?”

  Mary Beth peered at her through narrowed eyes, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Fine. But only so long as I feel like it.”

  Margaret sighed and took another step toward her, offering her hand, but Mary Beth turned on her heel and left. Well, she thought with a long sigh, I believe that was a small victory. And I’ll celebrate every small victory I can get.

  Chapter Five

  Heath’s sleigh slipped along the trail, bells chiming. Danny snuggled into Margaret’s coat under a pile of soft furs Heath had brought to tuck around them each. She peeked down at the boy on her lap. His cold red nose was pressed against her scarf, and with ear muffs and a hat, she couldn’t see much more of him than that. She tightened her grip around him, pulling him closer. It felt good.

  The children had only been with her for two weeks, but already she’d grown to love them so much. She couldn’t imagine being without them now. And they seemed to like her as well – except for Mary Beth, who still took every opportunity to embarrass her, and whose quips cut deep. She hadn’t kept that promise to show her respect in front of the others, and it was causing conflict. Still, one child on the verge of rebellion was better than six.

  “Miss Hutchins? Can we go ice skating, do you think?” asked Tommy, leaning into her side with a sniffle. He’d had a sniffle ever since he’d come to live with her, and she’d had very little luck convincing him to use a handkerchief. The look he gave when she insisted seemed to say, why use a handkerchief when a sleeve will do?

  “I hope so, darling. I’m just not sure. We don’t have any ice skates ourselves, so we’ll have to see if we can borrow some. I’m sure someone will lend us skates, but we may not all be able to skate at the same time.” She patted his head, and glanced at Heath. He sat beside her with the reins held loosely in his hands and a half-smile on his face as though he knew something she didn’t. “Why are you smiling like that, pray tell?”

  He shot her a mischievous look. “Like what? I’m just smiling.”

  She narrowed her eyes. He was obviously up to something – she knew him well enough to tell that by now. But what, she couldn’t say. “Never mind, I guess I’ll find out soon enough. You can’t keep a secret to save your life,” she chuckled.

  He pretended to look injured. “That’s not true at all,” he sniffed. “I keep secrets all the time.”

  “Like what? Tell me a secret you’ve kept.”

  He laughed. “Oh, I’m not going to fall for that. I may be simple, but I’m not stupid.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Drat, I thought I might catch you out. And maybe find out something interesting to boot.”

  He gri
nned at her, his dark eyes full of life. His body leaned toward hers and his smile faded. He looked as though he was about to say something.

  “Are we nearly there yet?” whined Harriet.

  Margaret laughed. “Yes, we’re nearly there.”

  It wasn’t long before they could see the wide pond at the base of a rise where the townsfolk had gathered to skate together. It was an annual event, but Margaret’s first time attending it. She’d been looking forward to it ever since she learned of it from Camilla. She hadn’t been ice skating since she left Chicago, and it was something she used to do with her parents before they passed. It brought back bittersweet memories of happier times, so after they died she avoided the ice most of the time.

  But now that she had the children with her, she was excited about skating again, and the chance to teach them the way her parents had taught her. None of them had skated before, and their excitement was contagious.

  Colorful sleighs and wagons lined the riverbank with horses in coats and rugs. Folks sat on makeshift stools under furs or stood around in coats, cloaks and shawls, talking and stamping their feet against the cold. On the pond’s frozen surface, children flailed around, squealing, giggling and falling in heaps. A few skaters flew around the outer edge of the group, going forward or backward, showing off spins and leaps.

  Margaret’s heart jumped within her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this. It was so freeing to fly around as though she were a bird, or a kite on a string.

  The children began chattering in the sleigh, and as soon as Heath pulled it to a stop they poured out and ran to the pond. Margaret laughed and waited for Heath to help her from the sleigh. “Thank you,” she said with a nervous laugh as she caught his eye. There was something about his touch, even through her gloves, that sent a shiver of delight through her body.

  “Well, I have a surprise for you and yours,” he said. That knowing grin was back.

  “You do?”

  He reached into the back of the sleigh, opened the trunk and pulled out a brand new pair of ice skates. Leather straps reached across and over the top, fastening on the side with a buckle, and the steel blade curved upward in a loop at the front. “There’s one for each of you, and one for me. I bought all the mercantile had and had to beg around town, but I finally got enough pairs for us all.”

  “Oh, Mr. Moore, really?”

  “Yes indeed.” He grinned.

  She fought the urge to fall into his arms and kiss his face as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. They will be delighted. I’m delighted – it’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed ice skating, but I do believe I will today.”

  “I’m happy to hear it. Anything I can do to delight you …” He blushed and held her gaze, then let his eyes wander down her face. He chewed on his bottom lip, then flashed her a smile.

  Margaret trembled. Could Heath have feelings for her, the same kind of feelings she was experiencing for him? Well, it didn’t matter. Even if he did, she couldn’t burden him with six orphaned children. She knew when she took them on that it would mean the end of her chances of finding love. She had to simply accept that she’d be a single mother.

  And anyway, what was so bad about that? These past two weeks had been the most rewarding of her life. They’d been challenging as well, and she knew that the challenges weren’t over yet, but the satisfaction, the happiness she felt, was as if she’d been awakened from a slumber that began when she lost her parents all those years ago. She felt alive for the first time in so long. Even if she never found a husband, she was content with her life the way it was now.

  She called to the children and waved them over. She couldn’t wait to show them the skates Heath had bought. The looks on their little faces would be all the satisfaction she needed.

  ***

  “Danny, hold my hands. No, not my skirt – my hands. There you go. It’s okay, just trust me. Look at the ice and hold my hands.”

  Margaret skated backwards, her hands clenched firmly in Danny’s little fists. His face was white, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek in concentration as he wove and shuddered over the ice. She glanced around and saw the other children struggling to stay upright, or failing and slipping as they attempted to make their way around the circle of skaters.

  Heath was there too. He flew around the ice, but would often end up landing in a pile of Singers. It was difficult to keep a straight face as she watched him. He was so confident and fearless as he streaked past her with a mischievous grin. When he fell, it was with a heavy thud. He’d lay there a moment, push himself to his feet again, help up whichever orphan he’d tripped over, brush himself off and launch in another wild dash to the other side of the pond. He never let the falls discourage him from the adventure, and she admired that in him.

  Margaret felt a tug on the back of her skirt. She turned her head to see Harriet behind her, and glided to a stop. “Harriet, is everything okay?”

  “I wanna turn holdin’ yer hands,” she said, shoving her thumb into her mouth to suck on it. Margaret had noticed her doing it often since she’d moved in, and wondered why she hadn’t broken the habit years ago. Or had the little girl taken it up again after losing her parents? It would explain why she did it so often, especially when she was afraid or upset.

  “Okay. Let me just get Danny to the shore and I’ll be right with you.” She began moving toward the riverbank, but felt the tug on her skirt again. She looked back and realized Harriet was holding on tight and being pulled along.

  Just then, another tug announced Elspeth’s arrival. “I wanna turn – it’s my turn,” she cried, shoving Danny. Danny’s feet slipped back and forth beneath him like scissor blades as he whimpered.

  Margaret held tight to his hands to keep him upright. “Elspeth darling, please don’t do that. You’ll knock him off his feet and me with him.”

  But Elspeth shoved Danny again. “He’s had a long turn! Now it’s my turn!”

  “No, Elspeth, Harriet asked first. You’ll have to sit on the bank and won’t get to skate with the rest of us if you can’t stop that.”

  Elspeth stuck her tongue out at Margaret, then smirked, waiting for a response.

  “Well, I never! Elspeth Singer, that is it – you will sit on the bank.”

  The sound of metal scraping on ice announced Heath’s arrival at her side. “Everything okay here, Miss Hutchins?” he asked, his breath coming in short bursts of white cloud in the air in front of him.

  “Could you please help me get Danny and Elspeth to shore? It’s Harriet turn, but I can’t balance with everyone fighting over me so.”

  “Of course.” He reached out to take Danny’s hands, but the little boy refused to release his grasp on Margaret. “Come now, Danny. Let go.”

  He shook his head and clamped his lips together tightly.

  Margaret sighed and began moving toward the shore, dragging the two girls behind her, their fists still full of her skirts. Heath followed, continuing to tug at Danny. “Come on buddy, let go. I’ve got you.”

  Finally Danny let go of Margaret’s hands and reached out to push with all his might against Heath. Heath slipped forward, backward, forward again, his feet slithering and sliding beneath him. He grabbed Margaret’s hand and fell with a great thump on his back, his feet flying into the air as he took her, Danny and the twins with him. Margaret landed with a soft huff directly on Heath’s chest, her eyes aligning with his, her lips dangerously close to his mouth.

  “Well, hello,” he said with a grin. His eyes bored into hers, sending a tremble through her body.

  The two girls had landed with a squeal against the back of her legs, entangled in her skirts, and were fighting to free themselves of the fabric. Margaret pressed her hands against her skirts, working hard to keep from flashing her undergarments to the crowd on the shore. Her cheeks flushed red and she grimaced in dismay. “Girls, please stop that,” she cried, in a ferocious whisper. “You’re giving everyone a show they’
ll never forget, and neither will I. Stop it!”

  Heath’s eyebrows arched and he burst into laughter, his chest heaving against hers.

  She frowned. Could this situation get any worse? If she stood up, she’d need her hands to do it. But letting go of her skirts now would mean the Rev. Latsch and most of his congregation, standing on the shore, would get an eyeful of lace pantaloons. “Oh, Heaven help me,” she groaned.

  Heath just kept laughing, and the glint in his eye made her laugh along with him, tears squeezing from her narrowed eyes. If she didn’t laugh, she’d cry. The children giggled along with them, and the entire group shook with mirth as they lay piled on top of each other.

  Just then, there was a thud close by, followed by a squeal and a loud cry. She turned her head to see Tommy and Mary Beth in a heap on the ice. Tommy was crying, and Mary Beth leaned over him, dismay on her pretty face. She looked up and caught Margaret’s eye. “Miss Hutchins, I think he’s hurt.” Then she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears .

  Margaret forgot all about her modesty, let go of her skirts and struggled to her feet in an instant, rushing to Tommy’s side. “What is it, my darling? What hurts?” she asked, squatting beside him and holding her hands to his tear-streaked face.

  “My arm,” he sobbed. “It went ‘crack,’ and now it hurts real bad.”

  She examined his arm, and realized within moments that it was broken. Heath hurried to her side, and the two of them helped Tommy to shore while the other Singers struggled to follow. They all quickly and quietly piled into the sleigh. Dr. Potter’s house wasn’t far away, and they set off at once across the frozen tundra to see him.

  As they rode, Margaret sat Tommy in her lap and held him close. He’d lived with her only a couple of weeks, and had already broken his arm. She should have been watching him more closely – or even better, helping him. How could she leave a seven-year-old boy to his own devices for his first time on the ice? Her heart fell, and she tightened her grip on him. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a mother after all.