Embraced in Love's Melody, page 7
The woman paled, her husband’s hand coming up to squeeze one shoulder.
“I would thank you, sir, to keep what you heard here in confidence.” His glower left no doubt he would see the veiled threat through were Cliff to continue along this vein.
“I mean no harm. I only thought…well this is awkward…but I might have a solution of sorts. I am a man recently returned from the war. I have come back hoping to create a home for myself. A wife was part of that plan.” He winced here a little, feeling somewhat dishonest in his wording. In no way was this still part of the plan, not in the traditional sense. But did this good couple need to know this? He could put it to the daughter himself, see if she saw the plan in the same way he did.
Martha’s look was one of astonishment, Ed going from protective bear to amiable shopkeeper in an instant. “Why, you don’t say! Martha, did you hear what he said?”
“I have heard it, but I don’t see our daughter as agreeing…” Martha murmured, a frown settling across her features.
“All the same, were he to come to supper…”
“Supper. Yes. We could have chicken…”
That they offered when things were so scarce spoke highly of their character. Only…it hardly seemed fair for them to take food from their table given their dire circumstances. He glanced quickly around the store, seeing the dusty bins of flour and sugar, the candy counter. To one side was a shelf of books, alongside several tablets of papers and pencils. Hardly the things to make a difference in their meager finances. His eyes lit on a display of farm equipment in the corner. “I see you have some fine harness there. If I might have a look?”
“Of course, sir!” Ed came out from behind the counter, his expression bright, and set into a sales pitch regarding the harness in question, using his hands to gesture expansively he talked about the various merits of this particular harness. He spoke with such excitement that Cliff found himself buying not just the shirts, but a harness and a bag of penny candy as well. Not that he needed either.
In return, they had his promise he would be back for supper promptly at six.
Still somewhat flummoxed by how quickly his fortunes had changed, Cliff rode home slowly, considering the idea from all angles. To his surprise, the idea still seemed a reasonably good one by the time he reached the barn. Hank met him with no small amount of surprise when he saw the harness.
“Just what do we need with that?”
“You never know when a strap might break and it would be good to have a spare,” Cliff said merrily as he dismounted.
“You might need a spare strap, not an entire harness,” Hank said, lifting down the contraption and studying it closely. “You didn’t get this at the feed store, did you?”
“Kelly’s Mercantile. How did you know?”
“They keep things spotless at Kelly’s. The leather is well-oiled. In nice shape,” Hank said with satisfaction as he heaved it over his shoulder and headed for the tack room.
“You know them then?” Cliff asked through the open doorway as he set about untacking his mount.
“Pretty well. Good folks.” Hank reappeared, and took the horse from him, leading the animal to the corral nearby.
“You know his daughter then?”
Hank stumbled suddenly though for the life of him Cliff couldn’t see what he tripped over. “Anna’s a nice young woman. Real fine.”
Anna. He nodded in satisfaction. It was a solid name. A wife with a name like Anna was likely to put a nice supper on the table. She probably read books. Things they could talk about on long winter nights.
Hank swung the gate of the corral closed after releasing the horse and returned with the bridle slung over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
“About the Kellys? Curious I guess. I’m invited to supper tonight.”
Hank stared at him for a long minute.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just…nothing…just…this is about Anna?”
Cliff shrugged. “Might be. Might be nothing. Thinking about doing some courting.”
“With Anna.”
“The Kelly girl. Whatever her name is.”
Hank’s face hardened. “That would be Anna.” He drew himself up, seeming about to say something then paused.
Cliff shot him a look. “What’s wrong? Something the matter with this Anna Kelly?”
Hank seemed overly interested in his boots for some reason. “No…she’s a good girl. Real fine. Just…well,” he looked up frowning. “It’s that creek.”
“What creek?” Cliff stared at him. The sudden shift in conversation threw him off.
“The one up by the far pasture, where we’ve been running the cattle. The creek’s drying up. Barely more than a trickle. We might have to send them up into the hills.”
Cliff turned to stare at the distant mountains, seeing the foothills rolling away into the distance. “It’s not a good idea. Not without men to guard them at night. The predators…”
“Will have to be dealt with. There’s no water down here.”
“All right. Show me tomorrow. We’ll move them then if we need to. Maybe hire on some help until this drought is over.”
Hank looked as though there was more to say, but he only nodded and headed to the barn looking as though he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
Chapter 10
“Honey…perhaps the blue dress.”
Maggie eyed her mother dubiously. “I thought you said a neighbor was stopping in,” she said, glancing down at the green dress she wore. She saw nothing the matter with it. In fact, she would even go so far as to think the blue was a touch…fancy…for a casual call.”
Unless…
“Mother, just which neighbor did you say was calling?”
She should have been more suspicious. To have a friend to dinner was a rare occurrence of late. She knew it was simply because they could not set a proper table, especially lately. Their own meals had been meager at best. Of course, her mother had said business had gone well today, enough so that she had decided to cook the chicken they’d been saving for Sunday dinner.
Her mother had not answered. In fact, she seemed to be overly concerned with the dinner Anna was preparing, lifting first one lid from one saucepan then the next as though reassuring herself that everything was in order.
“Mother?” Maggie caught her mother’s good arm, drawing her to the table where she bade her sit. “This isn’t one of your friends come to call, is it?”
“A stranger is simply a friend we haven’t yet met,” her mother answered primly, evading her eyes.
“So, you don’t know this person…?” Maggie prompted as Anna started stirring the gravy with a hint too much enthusiasm. “Wait…you’re in on this…? You have both been plotting…?”
The two women exchanged glances.
“Your father and I thought…” her mother started at the same moment Anna spoke up.
“It really seems like a good idea…”
Maggie lifted a hand to forestall them both. “Why not start at the beginning. You first,” she said with a pointed look at her mother.
Martha bit her lip. “Truly, he seems very nice. A true gentleman. Newly returned from the war. He came into the store today and it seemed the cordial thing to do, to invite him to dinner. Especially when I found out his people are all dead. Imagine, returning to an empty home!”
Maggie stared at her. “I can only imagine how you propose to fill it. Never mind. It’s a lovely thought to want to welcome home one of our soldiers. But…”
“Think about it, Maggie!” her sister interrupted, waving the spoon in her hand so that gravy spattered on the wall behind her. “Alfred was so…and a soldier…well, they are all so strong. So sure of themselves. Noble even.”
“So, you know who he is?” Maggie asked her pointedly.
“Not in the least, but it sounds so romantic, don’t you think?”
Maggie looked from Anna to her mother and back again. “I truly do not know what to say. I have told you both I have no intention of marrying, yet you find suitors for me under every rock. Were you not trying to foist Willard McClintock on me only yesterday? Never mind, who is this paragon?”
She tried to smile. Heaven only knew Maggie was trying her best to smile. In truth, she didn’t have any desire to let another man near her. She couldn’t stand to be let down again in such a way. It seemed to trust a man was only to open yourself up to the worst kind of betrayal. Her feelings had been badly hurt by Alfred’s actions. Now her family was asking her to risk her heart again.
On the other hand, even marriage to the humblest man would help her family. Her parents wouldn’t have to be burdened with supporting her. And much as she had spoken bravely about working harder to bring more money into the store, she could never sew as well, or as fast as her mother did. All the stitching in the world wasn’t going to change that. With that in mind, didn’t she at least owe it to them to meet this man?
Besides, a soldier might prove to be interesting.
Her mother opened her mouth to answer the question when they all heard in the same instant the knock at the front door.
No one used the front door unless they were calling.
As if on cue, Maggie’s father burst into the kitchen. “He’s here. Maggie, why don’t you answer the door.” He gave an exaggerated wink to his wife who only rolled her eyes. Ed Kelly was many things. Subtle was not one of them.
“You did not have time to change your dress!” her mother wailed. “And it looks so nice with your hair too…”
“He will have to accept me in green,” Maggie declared firmly and setting her shoulders, marched for the door.
She felt their eyes and their hopes pressing into her as she left the room. It would have helped matters somewhat if she hadn’t been able to hear her mother whispering half under her breath, “Please, God, let my stubborn daughter like him.” Being prayed for in such terms seemed more than a little insulting, on several levels. So it was that she opened the door already out of sorts, and wondering just what kind of creature her parents were trying to foist onto her.
A moment later she found out.
“You!”
They said the word simultaneously. It might have been funny had the black-haired soldier with the sky-blue eyes not been the one to be standing on the front porch, hand still upraised as if to knock again.
Cliff Pierce. The man of the blueberry pie incident.
“You’re Anne?” the man asked with no small amount of incredulity.
“Maggie. Maggie Kelly,” she replied automatically. “You were expecting my sister?” Things were getting more and more complicated. Surely he hadn’t been the one to give the plaid hair ribbon to Anne…? Were they expecting more than one suitor at dinner tonight?
“Two daughters…He did say there were two…” Cliff murmured, taking a step back away from the door, and looking anxiously at her hands. “You are not carrying a pie, are you?”
“Oh, botheration. If you are the one my parents wish me to meet you may as well go home now for you are surely wasting your time.”
“One cannot be too sure. I was forced to purchase a new shirt today to replace the one you ruined so thoroughly.” He gestured at his attire almost grimly.
She leaned in for a closer look. “Oh mercy, I do believe that was one I made. Well, I offered to replace it. You would have done better to accept my offer. The sleeves seem a mite short. Your wrists hang out past the cuffs.”
He lifted one arm to regard the cuff with a dubious expression. “It had the longest sleeves of any of the ready-made ones in the stores. I bought two others that were no better. Maybe if you made them longer, to begin with…”
“I make them to fit the men of this town. I cannot help it if you have unnaturally long arms.”
“I like how things somehow manage to become my fault. You used a similar argument as to why I was forced to leave the picnic early wearing a good amount of blueberry pie,” Cliff muttered, seeming more and more out of sorts.
She huffed out a breath. That old argument? “If you had not gotten in my way…”
He threw up his hands. For the first time, she noticed that he’d brought a bouquet of flowers. They looked like they might have been nice ones too. She couldn’t be sure as the gesture was so abrupt and his grip so lax, they went sailing over his left shoulder and disappeared behind him somewhere. “I was sitting on a bench, minding my own business! How is that getting in your way?”
“Maggie! Why don’t you bring your guest inside?”
That her father would choose that moment to appear behind her seemed a little too carefully timed. Maggie stared at Cliff, realizing from the look on his face that he had as little desire to come in at this point as she did in letting him through the door. Somehow though she still found herself moving aside to usher him in. At least he seemed just about as surprised to find his feet were actually carrying him into the parlor.
Ed wasn’t about to let his headstrong daughter spoil what he saw as a good thing. Maggie could just about read every last thought in his head from the quick flickering of emotions on her father’s face. From the way he’d set his jaw, to the forced yet somehow affable smile, this was a man on a mission. She was surprised he didn’t lock the door behind Cliff as he came in, just to make sure he couldn’t escape.
“Good to see you again, Cliff. I expect my daughter introduced herself when she let you in. Margaret is our oldest. She made that shirt you’re wearing.”
Both Maggie and Cliff flinched at that. Maggie sank down on the sofa only to have Cliff somehow pushed down into the empty spot next to her. Not sure how her father managed it, she shared a look of chagrin with her nemesis. The only good thing in any of this was the sure knowledge she had that Cliff had as little desire to be there, as she did to have him in her home. Any moment now he would make his excuses and leave.
Which was why it came as such a shock, it was a wonder she didn’t slide off the stiff horsehair sofa when Cliff said, “Dinner smells absolutely wonderful. Thank you again for inviting me over tonight. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”
Chapter 11
He hadn’t intended to stay. Especially since Miss Margaret Kelly seemed rather disinclined to have him there.
Oddly enough, he found it positively refreshing.
For the first time since the ending of his disastrous relationship with Laura Pendleton…no…Nott, he’d grown somewhat accustomed to every female between fifteen and fifty being enamored of him. The fact that this beautiful creation seemed bound and determined to have nothing to do with him, only made her that much more appealing.
Maybe his plan wasn’t so impossible after all.
The father was trying not to seem obvious in his desperation for this evening to work out to his advantage. A glance around the parlor showed it to be scrupulously clean but also lacking in objects or mementos save two pictures on the wall, one of a stern-looking man and the other of a frowning woman. Both were in a place of honor, above a table bearing a bowl of blue glass with a small chip in the rim.
“Family members?” he asked, rising to scrutinize the drawings, glad for an excuse to leave the couch. Sitting so near to her was starting to make him uncomfortable. Not in any way that was unpleasant, so much as he was gaining an awareness of her that he didn’t know what to do with. He still carried with him a certain annoyance, a carryover from the incident with the pie.
