Daughters of the Heart (9 page)

What was that all about? Had Elijah told her? No. He hadn’t had a chance to before he and Clay went to work. Had he?

She hurried to her daddy’s office, or maybe she should call it Mama’s. Of late, she worked in there way more than her father. But she had the pirate book to write. Probably why she wanted to see her, to give her more pages to read.

Being in on reading the book as she wrote it was fun.

After an easy rap, just in case Crocket was asleep, she peeked in. Bonnie loved the smell of old books.

“Come on in, sweetheart.”

She sashayed to the far wingback and sat properly like an English lady come from high tea. “The sisters said you wanted to see me. Do you have more pages?”

“Don’t you look lovely.”

“Yes, ma’am. Lacey Rose and I were having a tea party.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have called you away, then.”

“It’s alright. It was already rudely interrupted.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Your sisters want to take Elijah and Clay their dinner. Are you free to go with them?”

“Why was CeCe crying?”

“You don’t miss much do you?”

“No, ma’am. Have to be observant when you’re the youngest. Well, youngest sister anyway.”

“I see.”

“So did Elijah tell her?”

Her stepmother shook her head. Stepmother? Where had that come from? Mama was not wicked by anyone’s measure, and now that Daddy had put her birth mother’s picture away, Bonnie could hardly even remember what she looked like.

No, Mama was her mother now, period.

“What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. No need to say anything yet. Not until her daddy changed his pigheaded mind. “Do you remember Judy Goldthwaite? She and her husband come to church some when they can get away and Langford Creek is passable.”

“Is she that young lady who got married about a year ago?”

Nodding, Bonnie smiled. “Exactly right. And they’re doing just great. Got one baby now with another on the way. Her husband always looks at her like he surely adores her.”

“What are you getting at, Bonnie?”

“Oh, I’m only thinking that five years and seven months is a very long time. Too long to wait.” She rose then went and sat on the arm of Mama’s chair, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You’ve got to get Daddy to change his mind.”

May suppressed a laugh. That would never do. Not when Bonnie was being so serious. “I have mentioned it, but don’t expect him to move much at all on his timetable. Six months would surprise me.”

“But I can’t wait that long! You’ve got to get him to understand! We’re not Mary Rachel, and…” She pouted her bottom lip and shrugged. “Even that worked out great in the end. We all love Jethro Risen, and if she hadn’t run off with Caleb to California, then where would she be now?”

“Doesn’t the Bible say not to tempt God?”

“I think so, but how’s that the same? I’m not saying to tempt Daddy at all. I only want him to agree that if the right man comes along, that just because I’m say…fifteen…he wouldn’t stand in the way. Enforce his stupid rule. I know you understand.”

She bit her lip to keep the smile off her face. Apparently little miss was smitten with one of the men working on the new steam engine. Didn’t really matter which one. Perhaps she and Crockett should be today’s chaperone.

But if the three girls went again, they could all keep an eye on each other.

Plus Chester had passed the word on to the cousins for them to not let anything happen.

“So? Can you go with your sisters today?”

“Sure. I mean yes, ma’am. I’ll go.”

“Thank you. Keep everyone together, and don’t let them talk you into staying any later.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bonnie squeezed her neck again then jumped to her feet. May needed to spend some extra time with this one about being more graceful, but that could wait. No need in giving her any false hopes about being grown up.

Bonnie eased out. One of her father’s strictest rules allowed no slamming doors—especially his. May reached for her inkwell then stopped midway as a twitch stabbed her belly.

Oh, Lord, what have I done? 

As promised, May’s beloved returned midday
. The desire to unburden her heart proved almost more than she could bear, but she held her peace through the afternoon. He brought news of Rebecca and Wallace to share and the telling of his and Braxton’s trip.

Oh, his voice! The very sound of it stirred her insides, had from the start. She told him about Clay’s return and her decision to let him stay over.

Then Henry’s leaving for the sawmill left her alone again with her expose-or-cover predicament. Each half-hour the big clock chimed, the heaviness on her chest increased. Should she keep Cecelia’s secret?

As much as she’d love to gain the dear girl’s confidence and love, as much as she wanted to be her mother—a real mother, May just couldn’t see trying to keep the incident from her husband.

Maybe she could talk him into not saying anything to the girl, let her be the one to take care of it…but with his input how it should be handled. If only she could impart how important it was to her.

But she’d have to take her chances. She had to tell him. Didn’t she? Would she ever be able to hide anything from Henry?

Then again, why would she want to? The kind and patient man had never given her any reason to hide things from him. Quite the opposite, experience proved she could tell him anything. Still, this was different, but secrets were bad.

Anyway, hopefully, he wouldn’t do anything rash.

On the way to the kitchen to help get supper ready, the aroma of Jewel’s pork roast caused her tummy to roll. Hungrier than she’d thought, but she’d really been trying to eat less, too. Her clothes had been feeling a little tight of late.

The busyness helped lessen the weight of the elephant on her chest.

All the men arrived home, and she’d failed to reach any conclusive decision.

After the food got to the table, and Bonnie blessed it, everyone went to serving their plates and passing the dishes. During the meal, May distracted herself watching the young ladies watch the men and vice-versa.

Before seconds were passed, her youngest daughter gave it away that Elijah was the object of her puppy love.

And poor Gwen couldn’t decide if she wanted Braxton or Clay. It tickled her how Henry stepped up his guard.

Seemed he kept the majority of his attention on young Mister Briggs, but had already relented to letting him stay for one more night. The boy must have said something right when apologizing and admitting his shortcomings.

Before he finished his plate, Elijah set his fork down and retrieved a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket.

“Mister Henry, I’ve been thinking about Levi Baylor and the gang of men sowing cotton I saw the other day. Got an idea for a mechanical planter.” He extended the paper toward the head of the table. “If you’re interested in looking it over.”

Henry nodded and took the sheet passed along to him. “So you met the major?”

“Yes, sir. An impressive man.”

For a few seconds, May stood and looked over Henry’s shoulder while he studied the drawing. It didn’t make a lot of sense to her. He wadded his napkin then put it next to his plate, scooting it out of his way. He continued examining the paper after she returned to her seat.

Finally, he looked up. “How long would this take to build?”

“A month, maybe longer. Depends on how quick I can forge the parts.” Elijah smiled, glanced at Cecelia, then turned back to her father.

May covered her smile with her napkin. Could the young man be any more obvious? How cute, great fodder for one of her stories. Him coming up with a new machine to help with planting—just to stay longer for Cece’s sake.

Seemed Bonnie caught their exchange, too, though. Poor baby’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“What about other crops? With bigger seeds? Can you make it adjustable?”

“Haven’t thought of that, but I don’t see why not.”

Clay pointed his fork at Elijah. “From what I’ve seen, Mister Henry, this man here can make about anything.”

Chester and the little boys started gathering plates, and Jewel disappeared to the kitchen. She returned with one of her iron skillet apple pies. Oh, mercy, how could May resist? Well, at least she hadn’t gorged on the roast.

Over peach cobbler, the men talked only of Elijah’s planter, while the girls did everything short of waving their hankies to be noticed.

Braxton offered the least to the male conversation and took every opportunity to make eyes at both Gwendolyn and Cecelia, but only the debutante seemed interested in the timber buyer.

Obviously, CeCe only hankered after Mister Eversole, who had lost himself in his mechanical intricacies. Even after dishes, the discussion continued in the parlor over coffee.

Seemed almost forever, but May finally had him all to herself in the library. She slipped into his chair and looked to the wingback.

He did as she wanted. “Did I see Gwen taking Crockett upstairs?”

“Yes, sir. She’s going to be such a good mother, but then they all will. I don’t know how you did it Henry—all by yourself.”

“Oh, I had Rebecca and Jewel, and you’ve made a huge difference. So, I thought….” A bit of mirth mixed with a bemused expression ended in a big grin. “You ready for bed then?”

Figuring it best to tell him now instead of later, she inhaled. The deep breath offered cleansing, fresh encouragement. “Yes, sir, but first, we need to talk.”

His lips turned down. “Can’t it wait?”

“How I wish it could.” She grinned. “Bonnie wants me to talk you into lowering the courting age to fifteen. Cited that little couple at church.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly back and forth. “What did you tell her?”

“Had to bite my lip to keep from laughing, but in the end, I told her I’d be surprised if you allowed even six months—for Cecelia’s sake—much less three years.”

“What did she say to that?”

“Oh, that’s when she tried to use the Goldthwaite girl as an example of how being a child-bride can work out just fine.”

“Did she mention the shotgun part?”

“No, I’m certain she has no idea of that. Was pregnancy the reason she got married so young?”

He nodded, then filled his lungs. “Should I talk with her?”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. We can just let it run its course.”

“What course?”

His eyes always bade her to drink him in. Oh, how she loved him, but the man was so dense about matters of the heart. “It won’t be easy until they’re all grown and married. You know that, Henry. Don’t you, dear?”

“Rebecca wasn’t this hard.”

“That’s only because no other man met the mark you set in her eyes. Anyway, our dear Bonnie Claire thinks she’s in love with Elijah.”

“What? How could she? He hasn’t done or said anything, has he?”

“Not that I know of. Now before I tell you what I do know, I want you to promise me that you’ll sleep on any decision.”

“So there’s more?” He scooted to the edge of the seat as if at the ready to spring into action. “If I need to shoot someone, I best be about it tonight.”

She chuckled. “Just sit back, and please, promise me you’ll sleep on what I’m about to tell you.”

For the longest, he didn’t move then finally eased deep into the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can only promise I’ll try.”

Though wanting more, she figured that might be all he could give before knowing. Hopefully, she’d made it into a mountain, and he would be relieved and consider it only a molehill once he heard the whole story.

She cleared her throat. “Last night, Cecelia snuck into the attic and visited Elijah’s room.”

He jumped to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Get my pistol. It’s in the middle drawer.”

“I know perfectly well where it is. Sit back down. Nothing happened. Mister Eversole was the perfect gentleman and sent her packing, right back to her room.”

He glared and remained standing, his hand still extended. “How do you know that?”

“Well, Chester heard someone in the attic, then the thud when she dropped down. She didn’t stay more than two minutes before tiptoeing back through the attic then into her room again.”

He pulled his hand back, but still glared, and still stood. “Did you talk to her?”

“Please, won’t you sit?” She offered the seat with an open palm.

He took the wingback again, but stayed on the edge. “Why would she do such a thing?”

“Because she’s a young woman. Certain that she’s in love. And yes, I have spoken with her. She admitted it. Claimed she had to, went because he was vying with Clay, making eyes at Gwen through supper. Cecelia wanted to make him understand she was worth waiting for.”

He exhaled. “Two minutes. Chester sure about that?”

“Positive.” She waited a few seconds as the hot blood drained from his cheeks. “Please, Henry, I have something else to tell you…the best part.”

For a bit, he just stared like how could there be any good part in the whole episode. Still on the ready, he looked as if he would act, if only he could figure out who to shoot. “Go ahead. Enlighten me.”

“CeCe said she kissed him, but he didn’t kiss her back or even lay a hand on her.”

His arms uncrossed and fell to his lap. His chin lowered to his chest. She’d never seen him so dejected, even when he first heard Mary Rachel’s news. What was he contemplating? She eased out of the chair, but he didn’t look up.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What? No! Nothing is your fault. Nothing’s happened.”

He raised his head and looked at a spot over her. “There’s something about Sue I never told you.”

She slipped back into his chair. A flutter danced from one side of her tummy to the other, then rolled, but she kept her peace. More about Sue? What could it be? May wanted to hear what he had to say, and let him talk.

“Right after we married, she wrote me a song.” He glanced at the place on the wall where her picture once hung, seemingly focused on May’s bullet hole, for more of her heartbeats than she was comfortable with. Finally, he looked back. “If you want to read it, I hid it in the frame after she died.”

“I never knew Sue wrote songs.”

“Called it Susannah’s Ballad.”

“Why would you hide that, dear? It doesn’t bother me that she wrote you a song.”

He swallowed. “It ended with her promising…to give me a…son.” His voice cracked and tears glistened in the lamplight. “I killed her, May. And now that sin is being visited on me through my girls. First Mary Rachel, and now Cecelia.”

She jumped to her feet and hurried around the desk then knelt beside him.

“Cecelia is not Mary Rachel, and they’re both good girls, Henry. You’ve raised wonderful young ladies. We all make mistakes, but God watches over us. He watched over Mary Rachel, bringing Jethro Risen into her life, and now He’s sent Elijah for Cecelia.”

The chuckle that escaped could only be described as sad. “I’d tell Sue, no. Then she’d sing that song, ‘Hallelu, hallelu! Oh, how I love you!’ With each baby girl, she’d tell me it was getting easier.” He rested his elbow on the armrest and dropped his head into his palm. “Her love…the promise…I killed her, May.”

Oh, God.

Suddenly she understood why he was so adamant about her having only one baby.

She rose and extended her hand. “Come on. It’s time we went to bed.”

He took her hand but resisted her tug.

She raised both eyebrows, and he let her pull him out of the chair.

Please. Don’t let him ask any questions, Lord.