by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May
Udders swaying, bells clanging, gray noses glistening, the cows did their best to ignore the furry pest at their heels. While Myles held the pasture gate open, Treat encouraged the little herd to pass through. Myles gave one bony bovine a swat before latching the gate behind her. “As usual, last in line. No wandering off today, my ornery old girl.”
The sun was still low in the sky and already the temperature was rising. Myles swung his arms in circles to relieve the kinks. He glanced around. No one watching. He performed a few cartwheels, a round off, then a front flip to back flip in one quick motion. He straightened in triumph, flushed and pleased, arms lifted to greet the morning. The cows and Treat were unimpressed.
“Good thing you’re used to my antics. Hey, Treat, maybe I’ll see Beulah today.” Myles slapped his thighs until the dog placed her front paws on them. He ruffled her fur with both hands. “What do you think, girl? Think Beulah will smile at me?”
Then his grin faded and his heavy boots scuffed in the dirt. Little chance of that while Al was around. Of all the stupid things Myles had ever done, falling in love with his boss’s girl was undoubtedly the worst.
Deep in thought, Beulah Fairfield dumped used dishwater behind her mother’s gladiolus. Something jabbed into her ribs, and the last of the water flew skyward. “Oh!” She spun around, slapping away reaching hands. “Al, stop it!”
Al took the two back steps in a single bound and held the kitchen door for her. “Testy woman. Better make myself useful and return to her good graces.”
She was tempted to suggest that he choose another time to visit, but her mother had chided her several times recently for rudeness. “Thanks.” Beulah forced a smile as she entered the kitchen before him. His return smile seemed equally fake. “Is something wrong, Al?”
He let the door slam behind him. “Nothing much.”
Beulah hung the dishpan on its hook and arranged the dishtowels on the back of the stove to dry. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Uh, sure. Yes, please.”
“Please take a seat at the table, and I will join you presently.”
In another minute, she set down his coffee and seated herself across the table from him. His forehead was pale where his hat usually hid it from the sun; his dark hair looked freshly combed. Beulah knew her apron was spotted, but she was too self-conscious to change to a fresh one in front of Al. Her hair must be a sight—straggling about her face. “I’ve been canning tomatoes all morning.” She indicated the glowing red jars lining the sideboard.
Before Al could comment, Beulah’s sister Eunice burst into the room. The hall door hit the wall and china rattled on the oak dresser. “It was your voice I heard in here! Why did you sneak around to the back door, Al? I was watching for you out front.”
A black and white dog slipped in behind Eunice and thrust her nose into Al’s hand, brushy tail beating against the table legs. “Watchful, shame on you! Get out of the kitchen.” Beulah attempted to shoo the dog away.
“She’s all right.” Petting the dog, Al gave Eunice a halfhearted smile. “I didn’t sneak. My horse is in the barn, big as life. I rode over with Myles. He’s mending the whiffletree the horse kicked apart while we were pulling stumps.”
“Myles is in our barn?” Beulah asked.
“Still want to go for a ride today, do you?” Al asked Eunice as if Beulah had not spoken.
The girl flopped down in the chair beside him. “Of course we want to ride with you. My brother has to finish cleaning the chicken pen, but he’s almost done. I finished my chores. Won’t you teach me to jump today? Please?” She laid her head on Al’s shoulder and gave him her best pleading gaze, batting long lashes.
He chuckled and roughed up her brown curls. “Subtle, aren’t you, youngster? We’ll see. I’d better talk to your parents before we try jumping. To be honest, Blue Eyes, I want to talk with your sister in private for a minute, so could—”
The door popped open again, this time admitting Violet Fairfield Watson, the girls’ mother, with a wide-eyed baby propped upon her shoulder. “Would one of you please take Daniel while I change his bedclothes?” She transferred the baby to Beulah’s reaching arms. “Thank you, dear. Hello, Albert. Will you stay for supper tonight?”
“I…um, thank you, but no, not tonight, ma’am. I…I’ve got to do the milking. I promised the kids we’d go for a ride this afternoon, but then I’ve got to get home and…and get some work done.”
Violet gave him a searching look. “Hmm. Is something wrong, Al?”
Blood colored his face right up to his hairline. “Actually, yes. I got a letter from my mother yesterday. She wants me to come home to California. I’m the oldest son, you know. It’s been five years since I was last home, and my folks want to see me again.”
“I see.” Violet Watson sent Beulah a quick glance before asking Al: “Do you plan to leave soon?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am. That depends…on a lot of things. I’ll have to work out a plan with Cousin Buck—Obie—for care of the farm. I can’t expect Myles to handle everything alone for so long. I mean, he’s just a hired hand.”
“How long is ‘so long’?” Eunice asked, her expression frozen.
“I don’t know. Could be up to a year. The train fare between here and California is no laughing matter. I have to make the visit worth the price.”
“Yes, you do need to speak with Obie about this, Al.” Violet looked concerned. “That is a long time to leave your farm.”
Al held out his hands, fingers spread. “I know, but what else can I do? They’re my parents.”
“But, Al, a whole year? What will we do without you?” Eunice wailed.
Wrapping one long arm around the girl, Al pressed her head to his shoulder. “Miss me, I hope. I’ll be back, Blue Eyes. Never fear.”
Rocking her baby brother in her arms, Beulah watched Al embrace her sister. No more pokes in the ribs, no more mawkish stares. I wonder how soon he will leave?
Baby Daniel began to fuss. Beulah took the excuse to leave the kitchen and wandered through the house, bouncing him on her hip. He waved his arms and kicked her in the thighs, chortling. She heard the others still talking, their voices muffled by intervening doors.
My friends all think I’m the luckiest girl in the world because Al likes me. He is handsome, nice, loves God, has his own farm—he’ll make a great husband for someone. But that someone isn’t me!
She strolled back into the hall, studying the closed kitchen door. No one would notice if she slipped outside. Snatching a basket from a hook on the hall tree, she headed for the barn. Her heart thumped far more rapidly than this mild exertion required. Shifting Daniel higher on her hip, she reached for her hair and winced. No bonnet, and hair like an osprey’s nest. Oh well; too late now. If she didn’t hurry, Myles might finish his work and leave before she had a chance to see him.
A tingle skittered down her spine. Without turning her head, she knew that Myles stood in the barn doorway. The man’s gaze was like a fist squeezing her lungs until she gasped for air. Daniel squawked and thumped his hand against Beulah’s chest. He managed to grasp one of her buttons and tried to pull it to his mouth, diving toward it. Beulah had just enough presence of mind to catch him before he plunged out of her arms.
One ankle turned as she approached the barn, and she staggered. Daniel transferred his attention to the basket hanging from her arm beneath him. He reached for it and once more nearly escaped Beulah’s grasp. “Daniel, stop that,” she snapped in exasperation, feeling bedraggled and clumsy.
“Need a hand?”
Swallowing hard, Beulah lifted her gaze. A little smile curled Myles’s lips. One hand rubbed the bib of his overalls. The shadow of his hat hid his eyes, yet she felt them burning into her.
“I came for eggs,” she said, brushing hair from her face, then hoisting Daniel higher on her hip. “For custard.”
“Your brother Sam headed for the house with a basket of eggs not two minutes back.”
/> “He did?” Beulah felt heat rush into her face. “I didn’t see him.”
Daniel grabbed at a button again, then mouthed Beulah’s cheek and chin. She felt his wet lips and heard the fond little “Ahh” he always made when he gave her kisses. Unable to ignore the baby’s overtures, she kissed his soft cheek. “I love you, too, Daniel. Now hold still.”
When she looked up, white teeth gleamed through Myles’s sun-bleached beard. “Thought Al was with you.”
“He’s in the kitchen with my mother and Eunice. Daniel and I came out for the eggs. Are you—will you be here long?”
“Might play baseball with Samuel and Al. Glad you came out for a visit.”
Myles appeared to choose his words with care, and his voice…that rich voice curled her toes. Did he know she had come outside in hope of seeing him? Why must her mind palpitate along with her body whenever Myles was near? She was incapable either of analyzing his comments or of giving a lucid reply.
“You haven’t been to our house for a while, and I haven’t seen you at church all summer.”
His smile faded. He took a step closer, then stopped. Did Myles feel the pull, almost like a noose tightening around the two of them and drawing them ever closer together? She had never been this close to him before. Only five or six feet of dusty earth separated them.
Tired of being ignored, Daniel let out a screech and smacked Beulah’s mouth with a slimy hand. Pain and anger flashed; she struggled to hide both. “Daniel, don’t hit.”
The baby’s face crumpled, and he began to wail. Sucking in her lip, Beulah tasted blood. “I think it’s time for his nap.” She spoke above Daniel’s howls. “I’ll try to come back later.”
Myles nodded, waved one hand, and vanished into the barn’s shadows. Beulah trotted toward the house, patting Daniel’s back. “Hush, sweetie. Beulah isn’t angry with you. I know you’re tired and hungry. We’ll find Mama, and everything will be fine.”
Al held the door open for her. “What are you doing out here? What’s wrong with the little guy?”
“Where’s my mother?”
“Upstairs. You going riding with us?” he called.
“No, you go on. I’ve got work to do.” She barely paused on the bottom step.
“Play ball with us later?”
“Maybe.” Beulah hid her grin in Daniel’s soft hair.
Once Daniel was content in his mother’s arms, Beulah returned to the kitchen to work and ponder. Sure enough, a basket of brown eggs waited on the floor beside the butter churn. Samuel must have entered the kitchen right after she left it.
Beulah found her mother’s custard recipe on a stained card and began to collect the ingredients. I’m just imagining that Myles admires me. Probably he watches everyone that way. I scarcely know the man. No one knows much about him. He could be from anywhere—a bank robber or desperado for all we know. It is ridiculous to moon about him when I can have a man like Al with a snap of my fingers. Myles is beneath me socially—probably never went to school. Could never support a family—we would live in a shack…
Al’s words repeated in her mind: Just a hired hand. Just a hired hand. Just a hired hand…
Chapter 2
And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.
MARK 11:25
Custard cooled on the windowsill. Untying her apron, Beulah peeked through the kitchen window. Outside, a baseball smacked into a leather glove. She heard her brother Samuel’s shrill voice and good-natured joking between Al and Myles. He’s still here! She hung her apron on a hook, smoothed her skirts, and straightened her shoulders. Once again, her heart began to pound.
Eunice slammed open the kitchen door. Damp curls plastered her forehead; scarlet cheeks intensified the blue of her eyes. “We had a great ride, Beulah! You should have come.”
Beulah wrinkled her nose.
Eunice splashed her face at the pump. “It hurts Al’s feelings that you never want to ride with us.”
“I’m sure I don’t know why.”
Lifting her face from the towel, Eunice protested, “But you’re supposed to want to spend time with him. People in love want to be together all the time, don’t they?”
“How would I know?” Beulah said. “And I can’t see how being in love would make me want to ride a horse. Hmph. You need a bath. I can smell horse from here.”
“You’re mean, Beulah.” Eunice rushed from the room.
Beulah rolled her eyes. Pinching her cheeks, she checked her reflection in the tiny mirror over the washbasin. “Guess I didn’t need to pinch my cheeks. They’re already hot as fire.”
Beyond Beulah’s kitchen garden, the two men and Samuel formed a triangle around the yard. The ball smacked into Al’s glove. He tossed it to Samuel, easing his throw for the boy’s sake. Samuel hurled it at Myles, who fielded it at his ankles, then fired another bullet toward Al. Around and around they went, never tiring of the game.
“Hi, Beulah!” Al greeted her with a wave. “Want to play? We’ve got an extra mitt.”
“No, thank you.” He must be crazy. “Don’t want to spoil your fun.”
“We would throw easy to you,” Samuel assured her.
“I’ll watch.” Beulah moved to the swing her stepfather, Obie, had hung from a tall elm. After tucking up her skirt lest it drag in the dust, she began to swing. The men seemed unaware of her scrutiny. They bantered with Samuel and harassed each other. Her gaze shifted from Myles to Al and back again.
Al’s long, lean frame had not yet filled out with muscle. A thatch of black hair, smooth brown skin, beautiful dark eyes, and a flashing smile made him an object of female fascination. How many times had Beulah been told of her incredible good luck in snaring his affection? She had lost count.
Leaning back in the swing, she pumped harder, hearing her skirts flap in the wind. Overhead, blue sky framed oak, maple, and elm leaves. A woodpecker tapped out his message on a dead birch.
Sitting straight, she wrapped her arms around the ropes and fixed her gaze upon Myles. He was grinning. Beulah felt her heart skip a beat. Myles had the cutest, funniest laugh—a rare treat to hear. What would he look like without that bushy beard? He had a trim build—not as short and slim as her stepfather, Obie, but nowhere near as tall as Al.
The ongoing conversation penetrated her thoughts. “So are you planning to go, Al? Will you take me with you? I’ve always wanted to see a circus. I bet my folks would let me go with you,” Samuel cajoled.
Al glanced toward Beulah. “I was thinking I might go. It’s playing in Bolger all weekend. The parade arrives tomorrow.”
Samuel let out a whoop. “Let’s all go together! Eunice wants to go, and you do, don’t you, Beulah? Will you come, too, Myles? Maybe they’ll ask you to be a clown. Myles can do lots of tricks, you know. Show ’em how you walk on your hands. Please?”
Beulah’s eyes widened.
Myles wiped a hand down his face, appearing to consider the request. “Why?”
“I want you to teach me. C’mon, Myles! Beulah’s never seen you do it.”
She saw his gaze flick toward her, then toward Al. He fired the baseball at Al, who snagged it with a flick of his wrist. “You can walk on your hands? Where’d you learn that trick?”
“I worked for a circus once. The acrobats taught me a thing or two.”
Beulah fought to keep her jaw from dropping.
“No kidding? I’d like to see some tricks. Wouldn’t you, Beulah?” Al enlisted her support.
Beulah nodded, trying not to appear overly interested.
Myles studied the green sweep of grass. “All right.” He removed his hat. “Can’t do splits or I’ll rip my overalls,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“If I tried splits, I’d rip more than that,” Al admitted.
Myles upended and walked across the yard on his hands, booted feet dangling above his head. He paused to balance on first one hand, then the oth
er. With a quick jerk, he landed back on his feet, then whirled into a series of front handsprings, ending with a deep bow. His audience cheered and clapped.
“Amazing!” Al said. “I never knew you could do that.”
“Your face is red like a tomato,” Samuel said.
Beulah met Myles’s gaze. Did she imagine it, or did his eyes reveal a desire to please? Heart pounding again, she managed an admiring smile. “Who needs to see a circus when we have Myles?”
He seemed to grow taller; his shoulders squared. “You would enjoy a real circus.”
“So let’s go!” Samuel persisted. “Beulah, you’ve gotta help me ask Mama. With Myles and Al taking us, I’m sure she’ll say we can go.”
“Do you want to take us?” Beulah asked, carefully looking at neither man.
“It might be fun,” Al wavered.
“I do.” Myles’s direct answer took everyone by surprise. “I’m going for the parade and the show.”
Beulah and Eunice hurried into the kitchen. Beulah tied her bonnet beneath her chin, setting the bow at the perfect angle. “Does this bonnet match this dress, Mama?”
Violet cast her a quick glance. “It’s sweet, dear.”
“Now you stay close; no wandering off by yourself,” she warned Samuel while combing back his persistent cowlick. “Being ten does not mean you’re grown up.” The boy squirmed and contorted his face.
Obie watched them from his seat at the kitchen table, his chest supporting a sleeping baby Daniel. Amusement twitched his thick mustache.
“I’ll behave, Mama,” Samuel said. “Do you think there will be elephants in the parade, Pa? Maybe bears and lions! Myles used to be in the circus. He says it was lots of work. I think I’d rather be a preacher when I grow up.”
His stepfather lifted a brow. “Preachers don’t have to work, you figure?”
“Reverend Schoengard doesn’t work much. He just drives around visiting people and writes sermons.”
Obie chuckled. “Our pastor more than earns his keep. You don’t get muscles like his by sitting around all the time.”