Daughters of the Heart (10 page)

Henry beat the rooster up, but only by half a cup’s worth of coffee. Midway around the home section, it hit him. His calculations were not off.

Dear Lord, have I gone and done it again?

It couldn’t be. Maybe something else….

Instead of asking Father God for wisdom and understanding, as he had been, he glared at the brightening eastern sky. “Take me instead. Not May. I couldn’t bear it again.”

Once back to the barn, with no signs spotted, as he brushed out the Black, the Lord pierced his heart, and he repented.

“Forgive me, Father. I can do all thing through Christ who strengthens me. Your will, not mine.” A peace settled over his heart as he worked on the stallion. Things would turn out fine. He was wrong, had to be.

Like May said, the Lord watches over His, even when mistakes are made. She was right. Then could it be He sent Eversole?

The man not responding to CeCe’s kiss brought to mind Lisbeth Akins ambushing him when she was fourteen. Except, thankfully, he never had any feelings for the girl, while Elijah appeared to be coming up with new equipment to forge.

A planter would buy him another month. Henry smiled. The young man could probably stretch it into six weeks or more.

“Mister Henry, sir?”

He turned around. His son-in-law’s junior partner stood just inside the door. Hat in hand. “Morning, Son. Should I shake your hand or blow you head off?”

Elijah stepped closer. At least Cecelia’s
father wasn’t holding a gun on him. The scent of fresh-cut hay filling the barn couldn’t overpower the taste of fear though. He swallowed and extended his hand.

“I’d understand if you did, sir, but then you wouldn’t.…”

The older man shook his head. “Forget the engine and planter. My daughter is not for sale.”

“No, oh, that’s not what I was saying.” He dropped his hat and held his hands up. “Not at all. I was going to say you’d lose a son-in-law.”

The older man eyed him hard, but Elijah didn’t look away. He finally went back to brushing The Black, although it seemed with a bit too much gusto. “So, tell me your version of night before last.”

He scooped up his hat and eased closer, filled his lungs, then tried again to swallow away the acidic dryness.

“I was working on the drawing in my room and heard something in the attic. At first I thought squirrels. Then, oh, Lord, was I surprised when Cecelia opened the water closet door.”

“You never said a word to her about coming to your room?”

“No, sir. I’d never…but…in the end, I’m glad that she did, sir.”

“How so?”

“After Caleb Wheeler died, I proposed to Mary Rachel.”

The older man’s face turned to flint, but he said nothing.

“She refused me, of course. Too soon, I guess. But it broke my heart when she took up with Clinton.”

“Who?”

“Edward Clinton, her second baby’s father, sir. Turned out he was married.”

“So what’s that got to do with Cecelia coming to your room?”

“I’m going to admit straight up. I thought building you a steam engine would be a good excuse to meet Mary’s sisters. See if any of them were cut from the same cloth, as pretty and smart, and God-fearing.” For a heartbeat, he tried to picture his first love in his mind’s eye, but Cecelia’s image alone filled his soul.

“Son, you keep stopping. Get to it.”

“Not until the other night—when she showed up—did I know for sure. I’m in love with Cecelia, sir. Those feelings I had for Mary don’t even compare to those in my heart right now toward her sister.”

“She’s too young.”

“Well, I respectfully disagree, sir, but certainly understand your absolute right to say so. I’ll wait though. However long it takes. I’m asking for your blessing to court Cecelia, sir, and when—only when—we earn your blessing, to make her my wife.”

Of their own, the muscles in Henry’s shoulders relaxed. His fists unclenched. “That’s good to hear. Why didn’t you kiss my daughter back when she visited?”

“Oh, I wanted to. So much it hurt. But the Lord strengthened me, just as He has every time I hear the siren’s song.”

Henry resisted smiling. Praise God for a kindred spirit. “How long did she stay in your room?”

“Seemed like only seconds, could have been two or three minutes. No more.”

“You’re sure.”

“Couldn’t have been longer. She only told me she was worth waiting for and…well…there was the kiss, but it was short and sweet. That’s all. I wanted her to stay for certain. I wanted to smother her in kisses. But the one, along with her declaration…it told me all I needed to know, sir. I’m in love, I want to spend the rest of my life making your daughter happy.”

For sure, the young man was saying all the right things. “We only work till noon today, so we can get ready for church tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir. The cousins were telling me that yesterday.”

“Have any problem with the Methodist?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Dinner at one sharp.” He extended his hand. Elijah jumped to take it and shook vigorously. Henry pulled him in close. “Son, no matter how much I like you or my daughter thinks she loves you, I’ll kill you dead and feed you to the hogs if you hurt my baby.”

“Understood, sir, but no worries. I’d never harm her in any way, and swear to you now, I’d give my life to save hers, sir.”

Henry released his grip and smiled. “Good to hear. You get anything to eat? We don’t have a big breakfast on Saturdays.”

“Oh, yes, sir. Miss Jewel took care of me.”

“Excellent, now go on and git. We both have a lot to do.”

Once back inside, he found his wife sipping coffee, eating sugar cookies, and visiting with Chester and Miss Jewel. He liked Mammy’s new name, though still had to remind himself at times. He stopped in the door, leaned against the jam, and drank in May’s beauty.

Mercy, Lord, could You have made a more gorgeous woman?

Susannah had been famous for her looks, but Millicent May Merriweather Buckmeyer was an even more handsome female. The love in his heart spread to his mouth.

She looked up. “What are you grinning about?”

“You, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

She stood, and he walked into her extended arms. “I love you, too, Husband.” She kissed him lightly then hugged him tight. Before he was ready, she leaned back. “We’re having coffee and sweets for breakfast.”

He winked at Miss Jewel. “Any cornbread left from last night?”

She jumped to her feet. “Yes, sir. Wants a hunk with honey?”

“Any ham we could slide inside?”

The older woman grinned as she poured him a cup of coffee. “How’s about I fry you up a set of eggs to go with that?”

He took her offering then sat next to his wife. “No, thank you. Cornbread slathered in honey and a nice slab of ham will do me up right.” He took a sip then faced his wife. “Had a nice talk with Elijah just now.”

“What did he allow?”

“Told pretty much the same story as Cecelia. You ever hear of an Edward Clinton?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells.” She looked to her brother. “What about you, Chester?”

He nodded. “Maybe. I believe Governor Clinton might’ve had a son named Edward.”

“Erie Canal, Governor Clinton?”

“Yes, sir, but before it got finished, we all called it Clinton’s ditch.”

May wanted to hear more about his and Elijah’s conversation, but knew the man well enough not to press him with anyone else within earshot. And the change in him when he mentioned Clinton was slight, but perceptible.

Lots to talk about. And one more day of proof that another wee Buckmeyer should be expected.

If her monthlies didn’t come soon, she’d have no choice but to tell him.

Miss Jewel set his breakfast in front of him, and May amused herself watching the man scarf down his meal. How was it he never gained any weight eating the way he did?

Once finished, he drank another cup of coffee then stood and extended his hand. “How’s your story coming?”

She let him pull her to her feet then grinned. “Fine, now that The Red Rooster lost his tail feather.”

“So, I’m your pirate after all?”

“Maybe.” She snugged in and walked lockstep with him to the library’s door where he stepped aside and let her go first. She loved him so, such a gentleman. An errant chuckle jumped past her lips.

“What’s funny?”

She twirled, grabbed both of his hands, then tugged. “You! I was just thinking how much I appreciate you being such a gentleman. As I did, that wolf you harbor hit me, and it tickled.” She kissed him. “You are such a contrast. Genteel one second, the next charging a drunk with a loaded gun aimed at your nose.”

He kissed her back. “Am I ever going to live that down?”

“No, sir. Your bravery warms my heart. You’re like a heated blanket on a cold night, my knight in shining armor, my –”

He kissed her silent. She loved it, him not wanting to bask in her praise. He leaned back and stared deep into her eyes. “So, when are you planning on telling me?”

How could he know? Couldn’t, he had to be talking about something different. She searched his eyes, hoping her own weren’t giving her away. “Tell you what?”

He inhaled then his lips thinned. “How late are you?”

A dozen cotton bolls suddenly filled her mouth and throat. He did! He knew! She forced a spitless swallow and lay her head on his chest. “Have I ever told you how perceptive you are?”

“A time or two. Answer my question.”

“Two months, nine weeks maybe, but Miss Jewel says nursing mothers’ cycle can get messed up. She said most times, you can’t get pregnant while you’re still nursing.” She gently pushed herself slightly away. “How’d you know?”

“Crockett bunking with Gwendolyn two nights in a row. And my love, of late you’ve not snapped or growled or offered to slit my throat one time.”

Her lips turned down. She barred her teeth and growled then laughed. “Why, I never! When have I ever threatened to do you bodily harm?”

“With your eyes, sweet May. You’ve killed me at least a dozen times hurling daggers.”

What could she say? He knew her so well. “It certainly wasn’t on purpose, but I do truly want a daughter. I’m so blessed to have your girls, and I think they’re coming closer and closer to thinking of me as their mother, but I may never be completely me until I have a baby girl. Is that fine with you?”

“As long as I have you.”

She backed up a step and stuck out her hand. “Deal, and then we’re done.”

He took her hand but instead of shaking, drew her in and pressed his lips against hers. “Crockett’s going to hate you.”

“No, he will not. Don’t you even say that!”

“Only for a while. Until he forgets how much he likes his nummies.”

“How would he, seeing the new baby getting them?”

“All the better to wean him now. Give him time to forget. Don’t you need to give everything you can to the new baby—all the nutrients and everything?”

Smiling, she exaggerated her nodding, then pushed him toward the wingback. “I’ll talk to Miss Jewel about all that, but I’ve been dying to get you alone. I want to hear about Edward Clinton, every word of what Elijah said, and, how you’re going to handle everything.”