Farmer's Daughter Romance Collection : Five Historical Romances Homegrown in the American Heartland (9781630586164)

by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May

  “I’ve an idea.” Marlene whirled around giddily. “I’d warrant we could get the men to do it.”

  “Marlene! Your father, brother, and uncle hae more than enough to do in the fields. And Da works all the day long, too. We’ll not shirk our fair share.”

  “So serious, Rose!” Marlene giggled. “I meant the men who come to our diner. What if we announced an apple bee? We’ll have music and laughter and some supper to make the time go by.”

  “ ’Twould be doable if we were to double whatever we make for dinner.” Rosalind thought about it. “And to sweeten the deal, we could promise them apple cobbler wi’ dinner later in the week.”

  “Now you’re thinking!” Marlene scanned the open working space in the barn. “We’ll bring in the benches for folks to sit on and our tables to hold the food. Mr. Twadley will bring his fiddle, and Luke’s a whiz at playing the spoons. Brent would like the chance to show off with his harmonica.”

  “We’ll hae an apple paring contest wi’ the prize to be a fresh apple pie the next day.” Rosalind thought of how best to make sure the work got done. “The men can take the pared apples to the cider press afterward. If enough men show up for the bee, we can get most of the work done in one evening!”

  “Oh,” Marlene spoke smugly, “they’ll come. Just you wait and see. Tomorrow night, there won’t be room enough for all the men who want to help.”

  The next afternoon, all the women of the town came from miles around to lend a hand. Soon, the wooden tables groaned under loaves of bread, pans of johnnycake, plates of biscuits, crocks of butter, platters of chicken, and two massive pots of Marlene and Rosalind’s thick, creamy potato soup.

  The diner benches lined the working area, with buckets and crates placed everywhere for the apple peels. Every hog in town would be well fed. Paring knives lay in rows; thick, brown string waited to hold apple slices for drying; and the cider press stood ready a short distance from the barn. Barrels next to heaps of straw were ready to cold-pack the fruit destined for the root cellars.

  The men would come straight after the workday, and they’d work by lantern light until eyes drooped. With the barn doors thrown wide open, they’d carefully placed lanterns so as not to risk a fire.

  The women took their places by the doors, closest to the waiting apples, as the men trickled in. Rosalind marveled at the difference in how they worked.

  The women deftly turned their apples, sliding the paring blade smoothly beneath the skin to slick off the peel in one long rind of curlicues. The men attacked the apples as though whittling, moving the knives in short jerks to send shaved bits of peel flying into the buckets.

  “I once heard,” one of the Twadley girls confided to Rosalind and Marlene, “that if you peel the whole skin into one strip and toss it behind you, whatever shape the peel falls into on the floor represents the name of the man you’ll marry!”

  “What fun!” Marlene’s hands moved with more cautious determination as she worked, though she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the men entering the barn. When Marlene straightened, her hands going still for the barest moment, Rosalind looked to the doorway.

  There, his powerful frame gilded by the lantern light, stood Ewan. His broad shoulders all but blocked the smaller man who stood at his side.

  Rosalind felt her breath hitch as Ewan stepped farther inside, his gaze passing over the barn’s occupants and coming to rest on her. He dipped his head in acknowledgment before walking over to take a seat next to her father.

  Mr. Mathers, much to Marlene’s delight, made a beeline toward her. She none too subtly scooted over to make room for him to plunk down, leaving Rosalind clinging to the edge of the bench.

  Discomfited and not eager to examine why, Rosalind put down her knife and the apple she’d just finished paring. She dropped the long peel into the bucket behind her as she left for a drink of water.

  Marlene’s hastily smothered gasp made her turn around. There, obviously having missed the bucket, sat Rosalind’s long apple peel, its curls resolutely shaped into an unmistakable letter E.

  Chapter 8

  For pity’s sake, Johnny.” Ewan laid down his hammer as he caught his assistant giving him yet another odd look. “If you hae something to say, come out wi’ it already.”

  “I— Oh, nothing.” Johnny turned his back to Ewan.

  “We’re men. Quit shilly-shallying about and looking at me as though I’ve grown a second nose or sommat equally interesting. You’re twitching more than a horse wi’ pesky flies. ’Tis distracting.”

  “What do you think of Miss MacLean?” The younger man now wore a cautious, crafty expression Ewan found to be even more off-putting than the furtive glances.

  “She’s a fine lass.” Ewan shrugged and said no more. Pretty as a fiery sunset spreading o’er a blue sky, God-fearing, hardworking, deeply loyal, intelligent, kind…The list goes on. I won’t be telling any o’ that to Johnny, though.

  “I see.” Johnny sounded more subdued, disappointed even. “It’s just that Marlene told me that she—Miss MacLean, that is—she got a sign last night at the apple bee. And—”

  “Johnny!” Ewan bit out the name. “You’re clucking like a gossipy hen, you know that?” I don’t want to hear about Rosalind getting a love-token from some other man. She deserves better than the fellows I’ve seen hereabouts, and that’s that.

  “Fine.” He sounded a bit huffy as he tossed a few last words over his shoulder. “If you don’t want to know that she returns your high opinion of her but is too proper to say so…”

  Ewan froze as Johnny’s voice trailed off, tantalizing him with the thought that Rosalind might have noticed him the way he’d noticed her—the way he’d kept noticing her since the very first time they met.

  “Oh?” He struggled to keep his tone neutral as he sought more information, but Johnny gave a shrug and said no more. “And this is leading to what?” he finally prompted more explicitly.

  “Surely you don’t expect me to say anything.” Johnny inspected a piece of iron, obviously decided it wasn’t ready, and thrust it back into the forge. “I don’t want to sound like a…what was it?” His brow furrowed as he repeated, “A gossipy hen, right?”

  “I may hae been a wee bit hasty,” Ewan admitted grudgingly.

  “I’m glad to hear you realize that.” Johnny, his lips firmly set, refrained from saying anything more. His silence was deafening.

  “Johnny!” Ewan roared at long last. “Just tell me whatever ’tis that seemed so important naught but five minutes ago!”

  “Marlene is of the opinion that Miss MacLean thinks highly of you.” Johnny stretched to get the cricks out of his muscles. “More highly of you than any of the men who’ve been sniffing around her lately. Marlene reckons her best friend has eyes for you, Ewan. I aimed to see if you returned her interest.”

  “Aye,” Ewan admitted aloud for the first time. “She’s a rare woman. But I’d hae no thought of courting her, you see.”

  “No, I don’t see.” Johnny gaped at him. “A pretty young lady who cooks like an angel and seems to like you above other men, and you have no thought of seeking her out? You’re daft!”

  “Now, Johnny—” Ewan stopped his protest before he uttered it. Maybe he’s right. How long hae I been thinking about settling down? And here the Lord brings me to the MacLean doorstep, where beautiful Rosalind is ripe for marriage. “That may bear thinking on.”

  “Too right, it does.” Johnny picked up his tongs once more. “I’ve already decided to speak with Marlene’s father. Come spring, I’ll have enough seed money to start my own spread. And in a year, I’ll have a threshold to carry my bride over.”

  “You don’t think you’re being a bit hasty?” Ewan chose his words carefully, aware of the strength of Johnny’s infatuation.

  “I just said we’d wait a year before Marlene and I will wed.”

  “So you plan to settle down and want to see others do the same, eh?” Ewan couldn’t resist teasing his friend just a
mite.

  “Something like that. You’d make a good neighbor, and Marlene wants to stay close to her friend.” Johnny picked up his hammer. “Could work out to be a real good setup.”

  “Could be.”

  Ewan mulled over the information for hours, praying for guidance before feeling he had made the right decision. He strode over to Arthur’s forge and waited until the older man finished what he was working on before he approached.

  “Ewan!” Arthur drew off his gloves and apron, smiling in welcome. “What can I do for you?” He gestured for him to sit.

  “You can give me permission to call on your daughter.” Ewan figured Arthur was the sort of man who’d appreciate directness.

  “I wondered when it would come to that.” Arthur rested his heavy hands on his knees and closed his eyes. Even after a short acquaintance with him, Ewan knew him to be praying. He waited, respecting the man’s need to seek God’s will even as Ewan had before coming.

  He’s about to ask what my intentions are toward his daughter. Ewan straightened his shoulders and prepared to answer the question asked of would-be suitors by protective papas all the world over. He’d come with a ready answer to that.

  “When you look at my Rosey,” Arthur spoke slowly, drawing out the question to show its significance, “what do you see?”

  Ewan paused to consider the unexpected question. He knew Arthur placed a great deal of importance on his reply, so he weighed his words carefully. There were as many ways to answer as there were things to appreciate about Rosalind herself.

  “The first thing I saw was her beauty,” he began honestly. “ ’Twas why I spoke wi’ you regarding her safety.” At Arthur’s nod of recollection, Ewan kept on. “Now, when I look upon her, I see a woman of warmth and integrity—a woman whose strength of character and generous heart I cannot help but admire. Her dedication to you and the rest of your family speaks well of her raising, and she carries herself as a God-fearing woman. She doesn’t shirk from her duties, and I’ve yet to see her lose patience. In short,” Ewan finished, admitting his hopes aloud for the first time, “when I look at your daughter, I see the woman I hope to share my life wi’.”

  He waited as Arthur thought over his response. Did I say too little? Too much? Should I not hae mentioned her beauty? No, ’twould hae been dishonest and an obvious omission. Lord, when did feelings for Rosalind change my heart and priorities? Now everything seems to rest on this one conversation.

  “I’m well pleased wi’ your answer, Ewan.” Arthur gave an approving nod. “You see the beauty of her spirit and her worth beyond a pretty face and strong back. That’s more than I can say for many a man hereabouts.” He paused a moment. “You may court my Rosey, provided you agree to a few conditions.”

  Ewan waited to hear the conditions before he agreed.

  “Should she reject your suit, you’ll respect her decision. Should she accept it, you’ll be treating her wi’ the propriety an unmarried lady deserves at all times.” Arthur’s gaze bore into Ewan fiercely as he laid down his edicts, immovable as a wall of stone. “Her reputation will not be shadowed in any way.”

  “Done.” Ewan reached out to shake his hand, but Arthur stopped him, holding up a cautionary palm before speaking.

  “And before you speak wi’ my daughter, we’ll pray together. ’Tis no small thing, and we’ll seek God’s blessing afore all else.” Arthur’s expression turned wistful. “Should you win her heart and hand, it may well be I’ll not see my daughter often.”

  This last thought hit Ewan with the force of a fist to the stomach. He thinks I’ll take her far away. Is that what marriage to her would mean, Lord? Dividing a loving family? I hae sworn never to separate kin—and I will not change my mind on the matter. Guide me, Father, that I not inflict such pain, as I hae suffered, on the family of the woman I hope to make my bride. And what if it comes down to marriage or her family, Lord? I’ll not place her in that situation. Your eyes see ways I’ve no way of finding on my own. Help me trust You to see things through as You will, for the benefit of us both.

  “Look to your hair.” Marlene’s quick whisper caused Rosalind to glance over her shoulder.

  “Why are Da and Ewan coming so soon?” She frowned in puzzlement. “Dinner is not near ready so early.” Her breath caught in her throat as the icy hand of fear squeezed her heart in a suffocating grip. “Luke—he’s unwell.” Rosalind began to untie her apron strings as she hurried toward the approaching men, only to have Marlene snatch the strings and yank her backward.

  “Calm yourself!” Marlene shook her head in exasperation. “Why would Mr. Gailbraith be coming with your father to tell you such a thing? And why would your father not be running to seek your aid? They’re not coming here to discuss your little brother.” She gave Rosalind a knowing look. “They want to talk about you…and Mr. Gailbraith.”

  “Me and…” The iciness subsided, replaced by a pooling warmth. Marlene had always known more about these things than she did. “You think he’s asked Da to come courting me?”

  “Yes. Now duck as though to check the fire, and smooth your hair and pinch your cheeks so you look your best.” Marlene rolled her eyes. “You should have guessed it long ago—the way he looks at you as though he’ll tear any man apart who so much as casts you a friendly smile. Why do you think his table is always so calm at lunch? He scowls with a possessive gleam. I’m only surprised he didn’t speak with you before he sought your father’s official approval. Johnny’s already talked to me, and we’re agreed he’ll speak to Father after next meeting.”

  Rosalind stopped fussing with her hair to stare at her friend. “Johnny spoke wi’ you first? ’Tisn’t it proper to go to the girl’s father afore making any type of declaration at all?”

  “No, silly.” Marlene shrugged. “The man speaks with the girl, if he has any consideration at all, and then speaks to her father as though it’s the first time he dared say anything. It appeases a father’s pride and paves the way for family approval.”

  “But Ewan never said a word to me.” Rosalind frowned. ’Tis his fault I’m caught so unaware! He’s made this awkward by speaking wi’ Da afore giving me so much as an inkling. Hmph. Marlene knows how ’tis done, and obviously Johnny does as well. Why am I to be blindsided in this ridiculous fashion?

  “Marlene, may I borrow Rosalind for a moment?” Da’s question sounded ominously formal as he pasted a smile on his face.

  “Of course, Mr. MacLean.” Marlene turned to the oven.

  “Let us go walk to the shade of that tree.” Da pointed with one hand as he offered her the crook of his arm.

  Rosalind accepted it, trying to avoid Ewan’s intense gaze as the three of them walked a distance from where Marlene stood. When they came to a halt, Da squeezed her hand tenderly.

  “Rosey-mine, there comes a time when a father looks for his wee lassie and finds instead a lovely young lady. Perhaps she’s a lovely young lady who has caught the eye of a bachelor.” He gestured for Ewan to come closer. “Ewan hae properly sought my blessing afore coming to call, and I’ve gladly granted him permission to court you. Provided, that is, you are willing to receive his interest.” His grip tightened, as though letting her know he’d enforce her decision either way.

  “I see.” Gratitude for Da’s unconditional support welled within her. He approves of Ewan, and that’s reason enough to accept, even if he didn’t hae a ready smile and a kind heart.

  She looked up to see the cautious hope flickering in his sea-green eyes and knew her answer. “I’m willing, Da.”

  The grin breaking out across Ewan’s face urged a smile in return as Da put her hand in Ewan’s.

  “I’ll be leaving you two to speak for a short while then.” He smiled and turned to walk back to where Marlene chopped potatoes. “Just a short while, mind!” he called over his shoulder, then left them in silence.

  “Rosalind—” Ewan began. He didn’t get far, as Rosalind checked to see if Da was watching, saw he wasn’t, and lightly s
macked Ewan’s hand away. “What—”

  “Listen to me, Ewan Gailbraith,” she directed as she put her hands on her hips. “I’m willing to hae you pay me court and am flattered as well I should be, but ’tis a wee disgruntled I am, too, and that’s a fact.”

  She shook a finger at his befuddled expression. “Don’t look as though you don’t ken what I mean. ’Twouldn’t have been overly difficult to give me some forewarning as to your intentions. I do not like to be caught unawares by anything, much less something of such importance.” She finished speaking and waited for his reply. He had to understand straight from the start that he shouldn’t be making such decisions without at least speaking to her first!

  “I like hearing you say my name” was all he said.

  “I— Did you not hear what else I said?” Rosalind demanded. “ ’Tis vital you understand that I will not hae a husband who makes decisions first and speaks wi’ me about them after the fact.”

  “Aye, Rosalind,” he said, rumbling her name as though it were a blessing. “I should hae asked you first so as not to make things awkward for you.” He took her hand in his once more, rubbing his thumb along her palm. “I value your thoughts and will seek them often. Does that put your mind at ease?”

  No. If anything, my heart is beating fit to burst.

  “Aye, that it does.” She stepped slightly closer. “And ’tis honored I’ll be to hae you come calling on me…Ewan.”

  Chapter 9

  Ewan stared at where the heaping mound of corn ears took up even more space than the apples had not too long ago. And folks were pulling up wagonloads outside to replenish the pile as it diminished throughout the night.

  “Good evening,” he greeted Rosalind as he moved to sit beside her.

  “Good evening,” she replied. “At least, ’twill be a good night for me, I’m thinking.” Her smile held a hint of mischief.