Blowing on Dandelions (14 page)

His gaze landed on Zachary, sitting with his head tilted back against a Queen Anne chair, his body relaxed. Tenderness filled Micah’s heart at the sight of his sleeping son. What a mess he’d made of things, getting hurt over a toolbox. Now he couldn’t provide for his family and had to rely on the charity of strangers.

Well, maybe not strangers, exactly. His thoughts drifted to the last time Katherine had visited his room. She’d surprised him by delivering breakfast herself. He’d assumed Zachary or Lucy would arrive with his tray, but a fresh-faced, smiling Katherine had stepped through the door, breathless from hurrying—or so he assumed. He’d hated how unkempt he must appear. It had been days since he’d had a bath or a shave. He ran his hand over the scruff on his chin. Katherine hadn’t stayed long, but the scent of lavender had lingered in the air afterwards.

Zachary stirred and sat up. “Pa?” He struggled from the chair. “You doin’ all right? We were some worried when we found you out cold in the hall.”

Remorse hit Micah hard, and he added
worrying his son
to his list of current transgressions. Nothing seemed to be going right lately, and he had no one to blame but himself. Unless he counted God. Frustration niggled at his heart. God could have kept all of this from happening—his wife’s death, his home and business burning, even losing his balance and falling. That wouldn’t have been too hard, would it?

“I’ll be fine, Son. You didn’t have to stay with me.”

“I wanted to. Doc Sanders is on his way. Mrs. Galloway sent for him.”

Micah frowned. “Don’t need to see him again. I can’t afford all these doctor bills. He was here this morning when he dressed the burn and gave me the crutches.”

“Mrs. Galloway says you fell pretty hard and might’ve hit your head or hurt your leg worse.”

“Well, she’s not in charge. When the doctor gets here, I’ll tell him he can head back home.”

Zachary looked uncomfortable. “You sure, Pa? You always told me we shouldn’t be uncharitable when people try to do something kind for us. Ain’t that being uncharitable?”

Condemnation hammered his conscience. Couldn’t a man be grumpy for even five minutes without someone ragging him about it? “Don’t say
ain’t
, Son.” He wasn’t ready to apologize yet.

Zachary hung his head but not before Micah caught a glimpse of hurt. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m sorry. I had no call to growl at you, or at Mrs. Galloway. She’s right. Doc Sanders should probably look at this leg again. I hit the floor pretty hard trying to work those confounded contraptions.”

Warm brown eyes lifted and met his. Then a small smile crept across Zachary’s face. “What happened, Pa?”

Micah hoisted himself up against the pillow and winced. “From what I recollect, I went one way and those sticks went another.” He gave a deep-throated chuckle. “Guess they didn’t care to dance any more than I did.”

Zachary erupted in a laugh.

Micah joined in. He hadn’t felt so good in days. Seeing the pain and confusion in his boy’s eyes had stung, especially knowing he’d planted it there.

From now on, he’d do better at this parenting business. He didn’t have much choice, seeing he was the only one Zachary had left, but he’d be hornswoggled if he’d keep falling down on the job like he had lately.

A second later, when Doctor Sanders strode in, black bag in hand, Micah’s lips were still twitching with amusement. A blond vision floated in behind the doctor, and a jolt hit him hard. Had his heart been damaged during the fall? He couldn’t imagine any other reason it would jerk to a stop, then race forward again, when his landlady entered the room. No reason at all.

Chapter Eighteen

Dinner last night had been a rather subdued affair after Micah’s setback, although Mama danced around like a Banty rooster when she discovered Mrs. Roberts and Beth had departed earlier in the day for one of the hotels.

While Katherine had busied herself around the kitchen stacking clean plates and wiping down the front of the pie safe, the doctor had examined Micah. Doc had insisted Micah keep to his bed for at least another two days but had assured them the fall hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Now that this morning’s chores were done, it was the perfect time for baking pies. Her boarders had a fondness for apple, and with a surplus of dried apples in the cellar, she could afford the luxury.

A knock sounded at the front door. Katherine placed the last dish on the stack on the dining room sideboard and wiped her hands on her apron. She hurried to the foyer at the front of the house. Gripping the knob, she opened the door, ready to give a warm greeting.

Her smile faltered and died as soon as her gaze rested on the woman standing on her porch.

A deep flush stained Mrs. Roberts’s cheeks, and she clutched her reticule against her midriff. “Good day, Mrs. Galloway. I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.”

Katherine hesitated, then swung the door wide and stepped aside. “Of course. Please come in.” She waited until the older woman strode past, suddenly grateful Mama had excused herself after breakfast to rest in her room. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you.” Mrs. Roberts’s normal bluster didn’t appear to be present, and her red-rimmed eyes glimmered with a hint of tears. “I do not care to put you out.”

“It’s no trouble at all. In fact, I finished cleaning the kitchen and was thinking of sitting for a minute before I started my baking. The kettle is on. Please join me?”

Mrs. Roberts hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “I suppose it might be a bit more private in the kitchen.”

Katherine led the way down the hall. Why had Mrs. Roberts returned? She’d not been gone twenty-four hours—why, Katherine hadn’t even stripped the beds in those rooms. The last thing she needed today was another confrontation with this obnoxious woman….

Suddenly she was ashamed of the direction her thoughts had taken.
Forgive me, Father. I have no right to judge.

She plucked two of her best china cups and saucers off the sideboard and poured the fragrant peppermint tea she’d been steeping. Last fall, Lucy had discovered a patch of peppermint growing along the Powder River. They’d dried a large bundle and stored it in the pantry. “Sugar?”

“No, thank you. This smells wonderful.” Mrs. Roberts’s hand trembled as she lifted the cup, took a sip, then set it back on the saucer. She ran her finger around the rim of her teacup for several seconds. “Please, may Beth and I return and stay here?”

Katherine jerked and slopped tea over the side of her cup. She plunked it onto the saucer. “I’m sorry. Let me clean this before it stains the table.” As she busied herself wiping the tea and rinsing the rag, she wondered: What had possessed the woman to come back after she’d been asked to leave yesterday? She hated to hurt Mrs. Roberts further by rejecting her request, but after all that had happened, she couldn’t imagine it a good idea to allow them to return. Sinking back into her chair, she gripped the handle of her cup and waited, hoping she’d misunderstood.

Long seconds passed. The color in the older woman’s cheeks became more intense. “I see it’s no use.” She pushed back her chair and rose. “Forgive me for being a nuisance. I will not take any more of your time. Thank you for the tea.” She turned to go.

“Wait.” Katherine sprang from her chair and extended a hand. “I’ve forgotten my manners. Please don’t leave yet. I truly do want to understand.”

Mrs. Roberts clasped her reticule in front of her like a shield. “Understand what, Mrs. Galloway?”

“Why you’re asking to return when you left yesterday to find lodging elsewhere.” Katherine refrained from tacking on the rest—that Mrs. Roberts had been
asked
to leave with the expectation she wouldn’t return. “Won’t you sit down again and explain?”

Mrs. Roberts paused. “As you wish.” She slid into the chair as gracefully as a woman her size could but sat as mute as a block of granite and just as still, her hands entwined in a knot on top of the table.

Katherine touched the older woman’s fingers across the flat surface. “Mrs. Roberts?”

“Oh.” She sighed loudly. “I’m sorry. Yes?”

“You were going to explain your request.”

“Yes. Indeed.” The fingers twisted, the agitation quite opposite of what Katherine had expected from their earlier encounters. “I came to apologize.”

Now it was Katherine’s turn to be mute. She simply stared, unable to take in the meaning of those four simple words. “I see.” But she didn’t. Not really. She tried again. “May I ask what, exactly, you’ve come to apologize for, and what it has to do with your request?”

“Everything,” Mrs. Roberts blurted, her fingers worrying the clasp of her reticule. “The hotel is horrid. The food is dreadfully expensive, and they only had one small room with a narrow bed for the both of us.” Waving an expressive hand in front of her bodice, she continued, “As you can see, I am not a small woman. Poor Beth almost ended up on the floor before morning, and neither of us got much sleep.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “And when I complained, the odious little man at the front desk told me one of us could sleep on the floor!” She gave a laugh tinged with hysteria. “Can you imagine me doing that?”

Katherine couldn’t say that the words provoked a pleasant image, but she kept her opinion to herself. “I’m sorry you had such a difficult time, Mrs. Roberts, but I can’t alter my decision about you staying here. If anything, I’m even more certain you wouldn’t be a good fit for my boardinghouse.”

“But you do
not
understand.” Mrs. Roberts flopped back against the wood spindles of the chair. “I can’t afford to stay anywhere else.”

Katherine raised her brows. “I beg your pardon? Didn’t you inform me when you came that you’ve stayed in some of the nicest establishments on the East Coast? They’re far more expensive and lavish than my modest abode.”

“Yes, of course they are.” Mrs. Roberts’s words held defeat and a sob hovered on the last word.

Katherine winced. Mrs. Roberts was nothing if not blunt. But the last thing she wanted was anyone else to hear and come running to see what the problem was—especially Mama. “Shh, it’s all right. Why don’t you take a sip of your tea and allow yourself a moment to relax?”

Mrs. Roberts clutched the handle of her teacup with shaking hands, raised it to her lips, then set it back carefully on the saucer. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to control myself.”

Katherine waited for her to continue.

“I lost a lot of my money a number of months ago.” A blush crept up her neck. “Never mind how right now; suffice it to say someone I trusted took advantage of me. It left me in a rather precarious situation, and I came out West, hoping to somehow improve my position.”

Katherine had a good idea how the matron hoped to improve her position, and it had to do with Beth, but she kept the uncharitable thoughts to herself. It wasn’t uncommon for a parent or guardian to arrange a marriage for their daughter or niece to a wealthy man in hopes of filling the family coffers. But Beth wasn’t Katherine’s responsibility, and she had no right to comment on the matter, even if she didn’t agree. Besides, it was possible the young woman might find a man to care for who could provide for both of the ladies.

Mrs. Roberts dropped her gaze. “I see you don’t approve.” Then she raised her clear brown eyes. “Well, neither do I, but I don’t want my niece placed in servitude in some rich man’s home, nor do I want either of us to land in the poor house.”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with me,” Katherine said.

“Oh, dear, I
am
making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Roberts.” Katherine shrugged. “I don’t see any reason why it makes sense for me to allow you to return here.”

“Before I came today, I planned on begging your forgiveness for my behavior. Then when I got here and you were so kind … well, I guess my troubles tumbled out instead.” She leaned forward, her face drawn with anxiety. “I know I can be difficult at times. Demanding, even. My sister used to tell me that all the time. Not that it mattered. But in my heart, I knew she was right. I tend to run roughshod over people when I want my own way.”

She scooted her chair back and picked her reticule off the floor. “I do not expect you to accept my apology; I can see I’ve already turned you against me. That’s my fault, not yours. Besides, I certainly couldn’t promise to be perfect if we returned. I’m not, you know. I’d probably say and do things that would offend you once more, and you’d have to ask me to leave again. I hoped that I could show you how sorry I am, and you would give me another chance. But I won’t press you. I’m sure Beth and I will find something. Good day, Mrs. Galloway, and thank you for your kindness in listening.”

Katherine sat, unsure what to say or think. This was the last thing she’d expected. Part of her wanted to accept the woman’s decision to leave and hurry her out the door, but deep in her heart she knew her heavenly Father wouldn’t be pleased with that attitude. When she and Daniel had started this business, they’d talked about the ways they might be able to help people—a ministry of sorts, as well as a source of income. Now she had a chance to minister to a woman who was obviously hurting, and all she wanted to do was run the other way—or hope Mrs. Roberts did. She offered a quick prayer for strength. “You can stay.”

Mrs. Roberts’s mouth gaped. “I beg your pardon?”

Katherine squirmed. It had been hard enough saying it the first time, but it seemed there was no help for it. “You and Beth may return.” She held up her hand to stop the gush of words she knew was coming. “I’m willing to do this on a trial basis. We’ll say a week, then talk again. I appreciate your apology, but as you said yourself, you can be difficult and demanding at times. I’m not sure that will easily change, and I’m not willing to subject my family or other guests to fits of temper or histrionics.”

“I understand.” Mrs. Roberts gripped her reticule as though it were a lifeline. “I promise I will try to behave and not complain—too much.” She gave a little chuckle. “It won’t be easy, but I
will
do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask. None of us is perfect, Mrs. Roberts, and I don’t expect you to be, either. But I do ask that you try to get along with the other guests—and with my mother.”

Mrs. Roberts placed her hand over her heart and a whoosh of air exited her mouth. “Oh, my. I had forgotten your mother.”

“Is she going to be too big of a problem for you?” Katherine rose from her chair.

“No.” The older woman shook her head vehemently. “I’m certain I can abide—er, I mean, be kind—to Mrs. Cooper.” She grimaced in the semblance of a smile. “At least, I will try.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Katherine smiled warmly in return. “And since you’ve been so honest with me, I’ll do the same. My mother is not the easiest person to live with. I have trouble with her myself at times. I don’t expect you to put up with her needling you, but I do ask that if it gets too unbearable, you simply walk away. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Certainly. Thank you.” Mrs. Roberts rushed around the table and threw her arms around Katherine. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”

Katherine stood still, not sure how to respond. Right now she didn’t know what she’d regret, but one thing she did know—it wasn’t going to be pleasant facing Mama when she learned that Wilma Roberts had permission to return.