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

  “ ’Tis for the best.” Ewan rolled his massive shoulders in a vain effort to relieve tension. “If they told the men ahead of time, they’d be prone to acting out. No man wants to go back to Hank’s cooking in the midst of an empty wilderness—especially wi’ winter coming. This late notice, ’tis a safeguard for all the town.”

  “But no safeguard against heartache.” Marlene’s whisper probably reached only Rosalind’s ears, but she decided to take no chances Ewan would overhear such maudlin dramatics.

  “Marlene, we’ve everything ready for the men. Why don’t we leave off ringing the dinner bell just a wee little bit? The news has caught us all by surprise, and ’twould do us good to spend a few private moments together.” She reached out to clasp Ewan’s hand. “Why don’t we walk a short distance afore dinner?”

  “Aye,” Ewan assented.

  Marlene and Johnny didn’t even follow, lost as they were in one another.

  After walking only a short distance, Ewan began, “Rosalind, ’tis sorry I am this matter has come upon us so sudden. ’Tis said the men took such great cheer from your diner they laid track more quickly than was expected—too much of a good thing.”

  “ ’Tisn’t as though we thought the railroad would hole up here forever,” Rosalind said, “but we did think ’twould be a bit longer before you packed up and moved away from us.”

  “As did I.” Ewan put his hands on her shoulders. “I’d not intended to hae you make any sort of decision this quickly.”

  Surely he wouldn’t propose now. Ewan wouldn’t expect me to marry and leave my family wi’ such haste! I can’t!

  “Ewan”—Rosalind stared down at the toes of her shoes, unable to look at him—“I’m sorry, but I can’t go wi’ you.”

  “I know.” The surprise in his voice caused her to look upward. He seemed almost offended. “I wouldn’t ask that of you, Rosalind. To separate from family…’Tis a horrible thing.”

  “Then”—her brow furrowed in confusion—“what decision would you hae me make?” What else is there for me to decide?

  “Whether I go on wi’ the railroad for now or make arrangements to stay the winter.”

  “Oh!” Rosalind threw her arms around him. “I’m so very glad!” She drew back after her initial burst of excitement and considered. “Won’t the railroad need you? I’d not hae you leave them in the lurch when you’ve made a commitment. That you’re a man of your word is one o’ the things I admire so.”

  “Wi’ winter coming on, the pace will slow. Johnny’s capable of managing on his own by now. He’s skilled enough.” Ewan’s gaze ran deep enough for her to drown in. “ ’Tis my commitment to you I wouldn’t want questioned.”

  “Oh.” Rosalind suddenly found it difficult to speak past the lump in her throat. If he asked me to go wi’ him right this minute, I’d say yes. ’Tis good he will do no such thing!

  “But we’ve only been courting a wee while. I do not want to put you off by making such a decision wi’out speaking wi’ you first.” His eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. “A wonderful lass once warned me against such terrible folly.”

  “And right she was. ’Tis grateful I am that such a wise woman took pains to show you the error of your ways.” She gave him a sidelong smile. “ ’Twill make you a much better neighbor this winter.” She watched the grin break out across his face and knew she’d not regret her choice.

  “I’ve a sneaking suspicion that same lass will find many ways to make a better man of me.” They started back.

  “Do you know,” Rosalind teased, “I think you might be right.”

  At the sight of Johnny seated next to Marlene with his arm around her shoulders, Rosalind stopped walking. “Ewan, have you discussed this wi’ Johnny to make sure he won’t resent it?”

  “Aye.” He stepped back to stand beside her. Her sudden stop had left him ahead. “Johnny all but insisted I stay behind. Says he needs to have someone he trusts watch o’er Marlene while he’s away for the winter. He plans to return come springtime.”

  “ ’Tis good.” Rosalind began walking once more but gave a loud sigh. “ ’Twould be perfect if Johnny could stay wi’ you. I know Marlene will miss him something awful in the months ahead.” And ’twill only be the harder when she sees that I still hae you. She left the last thought unspoken. She wouldn’t say anything that could reflect poorly on her friend. Marlene was entitled to some sadness at the loss of her first true love.

  “We’ll be sure to include Marlene in fun outings so she won’t have time enough to dwell on his absence.” Ewan folded her hand in his and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Spring will be upon us before she knows it, and for now, she has you. Such a blessing as that cannot be o’erlooked for very long.”

  Rosalind gave a gentle squeeze in return but said nothing as they came to stand next to Marlene and Johnny.

  Marlene’s sobs racked her petite frame, though Johnny spoke soothing words, promises he would return and they’d be strong for one another. “But I d–don’t understand,” Marlene gasped. “Why can’t you stay if Ewan is going to? Why are you so set on leaving?”

  “Now, sugar-pie,” Johnny patted her back as one would an upset child’s, bungling the earnest attempt to pacify her. “With Ewan gone, they’ll need me all the more. We can’t both abandon the crew all winter. They’ve no other blacksmith.”

  “Why doesn’t Ewan go?” Marlene wailed, obviously only realizing the ugliness behind the words after she said them. “I don’t mean that I don’t want him to stay, too, but why are you going on with the railroad while he stays here in town?” There was no hiding the tinge of bitter accusation in the question.

  Rosalind gaped at her in disbelief. Surely her best friend hadn’t spoken such awful words? What would Ewan think?

  “Marlene!” Johnny’s stern disapproval startled her enough to stop the tears. “Ewan has every bit as much of a right to stay as I do. I counted on you easing his way while I went on ahead. Had someone told me to expect such an objection from my sweet sugar-pie, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

  “I—I didn’t mean it that way.” Marlene sniffled apologetically. “Really, I do want Rose to be happy.”

  “That’s my Marlene,” Johnny encouraged. “Truth be told, Ewan is doing me a great favor by stepping down. I’ll no longer be paid as only an apprentice. By sometime this spring, I’ll be able to come back to you with enough to start a small home.”

  “Oh Johnny,” she breathed, “do you mean it?”

  “Of course I do!” He apparently couldn’t refrain from adding, “It’s only what I’ve been saying this whole time.”

  “Ewan, Rose, I’m so sorry for what I said.” Marlene grasped their entwined hands in hers. “I wouldn’t have you leave for my sake, Ewan. Really, truly I wouldn’t.”

  Her earnest tone told Rosalind her best friend had earlier spoken out of frantic desperation. She forgave her on the spot. “I know that.” Rosalind disengaged her hand to hug her friend. “This gives us that much more to look forward to come spring.” She looked at Ewan and happiness bubbled inside her heart. Though I hope there are things to look forward to now, as well.

  “Arthur?” Ewan made a beeline for the smithy as soon as he had a chance that afternoon. He waited for the older man’s hammer to stop ringing before he went on. “I’ve a question to ask you.”

  “I assumed as much.” Arthur’s smile took the barb from the words. “Though I should warn you that Marlene spilled the news at lunch. I know you’ve spoken wi’ Rosey and decided to stay the winter. I’ll not be standing in your way, Ewan.”

  “ ’Tis glad I am to hear it,” Ewan said. “Now that I’ve made the decision, I’ll have to find a way to make it work. I was wondering whether you could tell me who used to live in the smaller house so close to your own? As near as I can tell, ’tisn’t in use.”

  “Ah. That used to be Gilda’s home. She lived there wi’ Cade—they were Kaitlin’s parents you ken—up until Cade passed on two years ago.” He shr
ugged. “ ’Twasn’t safe to let her live alone at her age, and she said the place held too many memories of Cade while she was grieving. So you’ve the right o’ it. Gilda stays wi’ us, and the house has stood empty for a bit.” He cast Ewan a sidelong glance. “I know Brent Freimont hoped to purchase it as a home not too far in the future.”

  “Brent Freimont?” Ewan recalled the youth’s treatment of Rosalind at the corn husking and his menacing glare after Ewan claimed his kiss. “He’ll be having no need of it,” he stated flatly. “Do I have your approval?”

  “Aye,” Arthur agreed. “Rosey has never looked on Brent wi’ the affection he bears for her. ’Twouldn’t hae been a good match.”

  “Do I speak wi’ you or Gilda about renting the house through winter?” Ewan smiled at Arthur’s assessment of Brent.

  “I’m all for it, but you’ll have to speak wi’ Gilda. Though she lives wi’ us, ’tis still the home of her heart.”

  “And I’ll treat it as such.” He thought of Rosalind’s grandmam, the roadmap of wrinkles around her loving gaze and the way she’d looked him over when they first met. “She’s a good woman, and I’ll not be showing disrespect to her memories. Should she decide not to let me have the place, ’twill be simple enough to build a small soddy.” He thought of living half underground, shut in by snow and walled in by solid earth for months at a time. He’d bear with dirt and burrowing bugs to win Rosalind, but all the same…“I do hope Gilda will let me rent the house.”

  “She’ll be at home now, if you’re half so anxious to ask as I’m thinking you are.” Arthur gave him a wry smile. “Gilda seems to have taken a liking to you, if that helps.”

  “I’ll take all the advantages I can get when it comes t’ courting your daughter.” Ewan nodded his appreciation and began to leave the smithy. “My thanks for your advice, Arthur.”

  He set off on the pleasant walk to the MacLean homestead. Lord, if ’tisn’t Your will that I stay in the house, I’ll accept that. You know I hope to make Rosalind my bride, but I’ve yet to see how to do so wi’out either taking her from her family or taking part of her da’s livelihood. I can’t do either, nor can I ignore the feelings I bear for Rosalind herself. Before winter ends, I pray that You will show me how to proceed. I will not ask her to be my wife until I’m sure ’tis Your will, though I know ’twill be a temptation. Help me remember to seek You first, Father, so I don’t lead Rosalind the wrong way.

  By the time he reached the house, Ewan felt the mantle of peace that was God’s way of showing him he did the right thing. He raised his fist to knock on the door only to have it swing open before his hand met the wood even once. Gilda Banning stood on the other side of the threshold, eyes canny.

  “So you’ve come to ask about the house, hae you?” Her assessment left him speechless for a moment, and she let out a gleeful chuckle. “Come in, come in, then. Kaitlin and Luke went to gather some vegetables from the garden. We’ll have a nice chat, you and I.”

  “Thank you.” Ewan stepped inside, still thrown off balance by her greeting. “How did you know why I came before I asked?”

  “I’ve seen a good many years, lad.” She sank into a carved rocker near the hearth. “I know you’ve come to talk about my home same as I know Brent Freimont had an eye on it, as well.”

  He took a ladder-back chair and dragged it beside her. “I do not seek it as a wedding gift,” Ewan spoke carefully.

  “I should hope not!” Gilda snorted. “After knowing our Rose for less than a month, you know how special she is, but you’d be a fool t’ propose a marriage so very soon.”

  “Aye,” Ewan agreed, relieved that he wouldn’t have to defend himself on that score. “I come to ask whether I might rent your lovely house for the duration of the winter, and perhaps a bit into the spring. I’ll pay well, Mrs. Banning.”

  “And ’twill be well worth the price, to my way of thinking.” The old woman rocked slowly, as though contemplating the matter. “I’ve not much inside, you see, but I did leave a table an’ chairs and an empty trunk or so. It has a fireplace rather than a stove, but I’d suppose you know that from the size o’ the chimney.” She nodded and suddenly turned a gimlet eye on him. “What are your intentions toward my granddaughter, Mr. Gailbraith, if you do not ask to buy the place after all?”

  “I intend to court her honorably, Mrs. Banning.”

  “Psh. Call me Gilda.” The old woman kept her gaze pinned on him. “And I knew you were honorable, else Arthur wouldn’t let you court Rose, and my granddaughter wouldn’t see you, and I wouldn’t hae allowed you to rent my house.” She leaned forward intently. “I mean, what are your plans after you win her, lad? Will you settle here or take her away wi’ you?”

  “That I cannot say at the moment,” Ewan confessed. “I’ve more than enough money saved t’ settle into a home, but Saddleback already has a fine blacksmith in Arthur. Just the same, I don’t believe in separating families.” He noted the spark of understanding in her eyes. “What answer would you hae wanted?”

  “That, I cannot say, lad.” She leaned back once more. “We, of course, want her to stay, but that is our desire, not necessarily hers. Our Rose thirsts for a bit o’ adventure. She feels she missed her big chance, being just a babe when my Kaitlin brought her to the wilds of the Montana Territory. She can’t recall the journey, after all, and wants to see a bit o’ the world.”

  “And I’m no closer to an answer.” Ewan shifted in the chair. “I appreciate your insight, Gilda, and your generosity.”

  “As I appreciate yours. Now”—she smiled—“let’s talk about the terms of that rental.”

  Chapter 11

  Marlene didn’t take it very well when we packed up the supplies left at the diner.” Rosalind frowned. “I wonder how long she’ll be so blue. Surely this mood cannot last through the winter!”

  “It won’t.” Mam stirred the hot tallow to keep it from lumping. “But the diner bore memories of her Johnny, and it brought her sadness to the surface. Give her a bit o’ time.”

  “Aye.” Grandmam dipped her too-thin candle in the wax again and drew it out, holding it aloft to harden. “She’ll come ’round.”

  “I’m going to make the thickest candle ever.” Luke eyed his already too-big contribution. “I’ll make it thick enough that when I level the bottom, ’twill stand on its own.”

  “And if not,” Grandmam noted, “we’ll melt it down again. ’Twill not be a waste either way, and who knows? It may work.”

  Rosalind kept her doubts on the matter to herself, instead admiring the soft lavender-blue color of the candles. With each new layer of cooled wax, they took on a slightly darker shade.

  “ ’Twas so clever to soak the dried blueberries so they plumped and then juice them. It adds such a nice scent and lovely color.” She dipped her candle once more and judged it to be thick enough. Rosalind hung it on the drying rack and began again. “The only drawback is they might make us hungry!”

  “Mayhap next time we’ll add a splash of oil of lilac instead of the blueberry juice.” Mam surveyed the filling rack with satisfaction. “We’ll be glad to have these come winter.”

  “Aye,” Grandmam seconded. “If there’s anything worse than being snowed in for months on end, ’tis being snowed in wi’ only the hearth’s light to see by. Makes it that much darker.”

  “Mam, may I give Marlene a candle or two for her nightstand?” Rosalind gave an appreciative sniff. “The treat might help to restore her good spirits. Coax a smile, even.”

  “I’m sure we can spare a few for such a good cause.”

  “You can give her mine, Rose.” Luke generously held out the large, misshapen candle he’d been nursing the entire day.

  “Oh, I’m not sure if ’twill fit in her candleholder, Luke.” Rosalind gestured toward the monstrosity. “Best you keep it to read by. ’Twill be interesting to see how long ’twill last.”

  “Good idea, Rose.” Luke headed back to dunk the thing yet again. “I don’t think anyone
’s ever made one like this before.”

  “I believe you are the first, Luke.” Mam ruffled his hair.

  “Why don’t you run o’er with these four?” Grandmam held them out to Rosalind. “You’ll probably be glad to take a nice, quiet walk.” Her eyes held a knowing glint as she looked at Rosalind.

  “Aye.” Rosalind took them thankfully. For the first time since the leaves had turned color, she’d have a moment to herself. With the railroad crew packed off, she could walk alone again.

  She draped a light shawl about her shoulders to ward off the chill that warned of winter and set out down the well-worn path. The scents of fallen leaves and rich, dark earth freed by the harvest filled her senses as she moved along.

  Father, I see the work of Your hands around me, and ’tis wondrous. Your imagination so far surpasses my own—all I seem to be able to think of is Ewan. How did he go from a man my parents warned me against to my possible future husband in such a short span of time? I remember praying not so long ago about trying to separate out my own impressions of the man wi’ the caution Mam and Da exhorted me to use.

  Now he has Da’s approval, and while Mam had hoped for Brent as a son-in-law, she hasn’t spoken against Ewan’s courtship. Grandmam has even agreed to rent her house to him for the winter. Everything seems to point to an ideal match—can it be so easy? I know You guard o’er the seasons in our lives, but this time of beginnings seems almost too sweet. Why am I holding a fear that ’twon’t last? Help me to trust in Your will, Father, as time ripens.

  She knocked on the Freimonts’ door, waiting until Mrs. Freimont opened it and ushered her inside with a welcoming smile.

  “Rose! It is always good to see you.” She took Rosalind’s hands in hers and spoke more softly. “Perhaps you can cheer Marlene from her sullens. I will give her the rest of today to adjust to the idea of waiting for her young man, but that is enough.”

  “Aye.” Rosalind nodded. “ ’Twouldn’t do to stay so for long. I’ll hae a chat wi’ her. She’ll pull through this difficulty.”