Bittersweet (36 page)

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Authors: Cathy Marie Hake

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BOOK: Bittersweet
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Ivy hiked up her skirts and climbed up onto a boulder. As soon as she settled in, she looked down at her skirt and frowned.

The other women sat with their knees pressed together. Everything about them was different. They pinned up their hair, never rolled up their sleeves, and quietly pattered about.
Feller’s gotta want
a purdy lil’ gal like Laney—not a straggle-haired, rough-spoken, boot-clompin’
gal whose baby ain’t his
.

She pressed her knees together.

Since Sunday, Galen had been avoiding her. Ivy couldn’t blame him. If she hadn’t puked on him, he wouldn’t have ruined his shirt. She’d been just as glad that he’d kept his distance. All day Monday and most of today, Ivy had kept reminding herself she’d done what she had to for the sake of her baby.

Learning that the church folks suddenly treated him different—that surprised her. Even if he was the father—well, one little slipup shouldn’t be cause for such a hullabaloo. Wasn’t like any of them was perfect. Knowing now that they even made life hard on little Dale … well, that left Ivy feeling lower than a gopher in the bottom of his hole.

She looked down again. In just those few moments while she’d been lost in thought, she’d started spraddling again.
I trapped
Galen into this marriage. Cain’t back out of it. What I’m a-gonna hafta do
is turn into a gal he ain’t shamed to have by his side
.

This Friday, she and Mrs. O’Sullivan were going to the Broken P to sew. If Laney was really, truly as sweet as the storebought chocolate candy she shared today, maybe she could help. Ivy figured she had nothing to lose.

“’Morning, Miss Elaine.” Eddie Lufe held his hat over his heart as he stood outside her door on Thursday afternoon, revealing carefully pomaded hair. Wave upon wave of bay rum accosted Laney.

She grabbed her hankie from her sleeve just in time to catch her sneeze. “Excuse me.”

“God bless you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lufe.” She tried to summon a polite smile.

“What a surprise to have you drop by.”

“Is that Eddie Lufe?” Hilda trundled over. “C’mon in. Don’t just stand there. But wipe your feet first.”

“Yes’m.”

Under other circumstances, Laney knew she’d be tempted to laugh at the sight of a hulking man deferring to her scrappy housekeeper. Only this wasn’t funny in the least. She sensed exactly what was going on. “Am I to assume you have something baking in the kitchen, Hilda?”

“I always do.” Hilda nudged Laney. “Take the gentleman into the parlor. I’ll bring refreshments in a moment.”

“Please have a seat, Mr. Lufe.” Laney swept her hand in the general direction of the parlor. “I’m sure you’ll excuse me while I go invite Amanda and Ruth to join us.”

“No!” Hilda cleared her throat. “They’re going to the cottage to work on the library books. I sent pie along with them.”

“Pie?”

Laney plastered on a smile.
Eddie would have been just as happy to
come eat as to see me
. “Hilda is a wonderful cook.”

“So is Laney.” Hilda rearranged her apron bib. “Between me and Kelly O’Sullivan, we’ve brought our Laney along to the point that she can cook with the best of us. Why, she even took second place at the fair for her grape jelly.”

“You don’t say!”

Hilda bobbed her head. “And with the grapes you brought over from your very own vines!”

“We took jars of the jelly over to Mr. Lufe, Hilda. Don’t you remember? But I’ll be happy to grab a few more from the pantry.”

“Isn’t that just like you, Laney? You just go sit down with Eddie. I’m sure the two of you will find a lot to talk about.”

Unable to come up with a reasonable excuse to avoid the man, Laney breezed past him and into the parlor. Though she usually preferred the settee, Laney was afraid Eddie might try to sit beside her. She tamed her hoops and sat on a small chair.

“Your pianoforte is lovely.” Eddie sat in the chair her father had always used. It creaked loudly. “Do you play?”

“Only badly.” Laney shrugged. “Ruth is the talented one. She plays divinely.”

“I’m sure you must have other talents.”

Hilda raced in, a tray in her hands. “Oh yes! Laney is quite the artist.” Laney strongly suspected the housekeeper had arranged this visit and had the refreshments ready in the kitchen.

Ignoring Laney, Hilda set the tray down on the coffee table. “She painted that picture over the piano.”

“Did you now?” Eddie stood. “I’ll have to look at it more closely.”

“Laney also did the flower arrangement. She learned all of those things at her finishing school. Not only that, she helped Kelly O’Sullivan out in her flower garden.”

Laney automatically accepted the teacup and saucer Hilda thrust at her. She gave Hilda a dirty look, though. Hilda sounded just like a horse trader, talking up all the selling points of a nag he wanted to unload.
The next thing I know, she’s going to talk about my
teeth
.

“The arrangement … it is beautiful.” He tilted his head and closed one eye. “And the picture … I feel like I am right there, in that landscape. The details on the little flowers at the very bottom are very realistic.”

“Thank you.”

Hilda made an impatient gesture at her and mouthed, “Be nice.”

Laney stiffened.

Unwilling to let the unfortunate visit come to a quick end, Hilda motioned Eddie back to his chair and served him the tea and an enormous slice of pie. “I believe Laney will plant a flower garden here at the Broken P come spring if she hasn’t gotten married.”

Pain slashed through her so mercilessly, Laney dropped her fork.

“Don’t fret over that,” Hilda said as she swooped and picked it up. “I’ll fetch another.”

“No need, Hilda.” Laney clenched her hands in her lap. “I don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

“She eats like a bird,” Hilda told Eddie.

Eddie smiled after swallowing the biggest bite Laney ever saw someone take. “Between the two of us, we make up for each other.

You’re small and I’m large. You eat little and I eat lots.”

Laney managed a sickly smile. It seemed as if the visit dragged on interminably. When Eddie ate her slice of pie as well as his own, Laney grasped at straws. “Why don’t I ask Hilda to send a slice of pie home with you?”

“No, no. But I will be happy to come again soon. And when the vines hold ripe grapes, I will be sure you have as many as you want.”

“How kind of you.” Laney walked him to the door and leaned against it after he left. The clock showed he’d only been there for forty-five minutes, but it had seemed like an eternity.

Laney marched into the kitchen. “Hilda, don’t you do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Try to play matchmaker! It was … horrid.” A tingling behind her eyes warned Laney she was about to burst into tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with a neighbor happening by.”

“Fine. Then from now on, when a neighbor who happens to be a bachelor comes to pay a visit, you can entertain him.”

Hilda made a sour face. “That would be rude, and you know it, Elaine Louise.”

“It’s no worse than you trying to foist me off on Eddie!”

Hilda came toward her and patted her gently, just as she had when Laney was a little girl. “I know this is difficult, but you have to move on. The next time, it won’t be so hard.”

Laney’s jaw jutted forward. “There had better not be a next time.”

“You don’t have a mother, so I’m going to step in and have my say. You can’t pine for Galen. He’s a married man. There’s no use wishing it wasn’t so. Eddie Lufe is a good Christian man. So is Robert Price. Either of them would be happy to marry you in a heartbeat. Eddie’s got more money, but Rob’s better looking.”

“I don’t care about their money or their looks.” Laney shook from head to toe. “I won’t marry someone I don’t love. I can’t.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

T
he next day Laney sat in the parlor again. Only this time Mrs. O’Sullivan and Ivy were there for an afternoon of tea and sewing, and of course, Ruth and Amanda and Hilda were there, as well. Yesterday with Eddie had been embarrassingly awkward, but this—it was a hundred times worse. The girl who had ruined Laney’s future with her vile lie sat there on the footstool near Mrs. O’Sullivan, just as Laney used to sit by her own mama.

Unbearable as it all felt, Laney knew she had to endure it. “I do so admire your dress,” she told Amanda. “The plaid is exquisite.” “Thank you. A very dear woman and her daughter back home insisted upon giving it to me as a going-away present.”

“The wool must be nice and warm. It’s quite cool today,” Mrs.

O’Sullivan said before taking a sip of tea.

“Laney, won’t you reconsider about that pink wool dress?”

Ruth turned to Amanda. “It’s the exact same shade as your silk.

It never fit me correctly, and Laney is convinced she looks atrocious in anything pink.”

“I bet Laney’d look good in a burlap bag.” Ivy took a loud slurp from her teacup. “I’m doomed to wear dreary browns. It’s this hair of mine.”

Laney caught the sly look Ruth cast to the side and said in utter surprise, “Ivy?”

“Huh?” A wary look crossed Ivy’s features.

Ruth leaned back and looked at Ivy. “Yes, Laney, I think you’re right. Ivy would look beautiful in it. What are we waiting for?”

She popped to her feet. “Come on, Ivy! Amanda and Laney, you, too.”

“These young girls.” Hilda gave Mrs. O’Sullivan a knowing look. “They’re always up to something. You girls go on and have your fun. Kelly and I are going to sit by the fire and sew.”

As they walked up the stairs, Laney wondered what her sister-in-law was up to. Ruth came up with more schemes than anyone Laney knew.
I don’t want to be a part of this one
.

“Mama was sick for a long time,” Ruth explained to Ivy. “I had nothing to do other than read to her or sit and sew while we talked.” She sighed. “Making her happy was all that mattered to me, so I stitched gown after gown. I didn’t realize just how many I had made until our old housekeeper shipped them all out here.”

“The blue one you gave me is among my favorites,” Laney said.

“Before you go in here, you all may as well know it’s a mess.

I have dresses everywhere.” Ruth opened the door to her bedchamber. “You shore do,” Ivy exclaimed as she stared at the piles of dresses.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda gushed. “It’s my fault. You took them out of the wardrobe from my room.”

“They were hanging in there because I don’t ever wear them.

Amanda, there’s a striped one in here somewhere… . Anyway, I want you to try it on.”

Amanda stopped so abruptly, Laney almost ran into her. “You planned this!” Laney charged.

Ruth laughed. “Of course I did. If they don’t fit anyone today, I’ve resolved to find new homes for them. It’s wasteful for them to just take up space.”

“You’d jist give away clothes?” Ivy looked as shocked as she sounded.

“I’m sharing with friends.” Ruth gestured to the nearest pile.

“Let’s see what fits!”

Jealousy speared through Laney.
It’s bad enough Ivy stole the man
I love. Now I’m supposed to help her charm him?
“Why don’t I go back downstairs and you can come model what you like best?”

“We’ll be here until noon tomorrow if you don’t stay and help,” Ruth submitted. “Well, maybe actually suppertime tomorrow. I’m probably more of a hindrance than a help. Laney, will you find the pink one for Ivy?”

Heart aching, Laney started searching for the dress.
Why is
Ruth doing this to me? Lord, why are you doing this to me?
Laney yanked the pale pink wool dress from the middle of a pile. The stylish gown must have used fifteen yards to form the voluminous skirts that would drape over hoops. Other dresses slipped and slithered to the floor.

“That’un’s like the ones all y’all got on.” Just as fast as Ivy’s smile started, it faded. “Much obliged, but I cain’t wear that thar dress. Mrs. O’Sullivan tole me I’m not s’posed to talk ’bout thangs, but if ’n I tried a-wearin’ that, ever’body
see
them thangs!”

“Dear mercy, don’t we all just dread and fear that?” Amanda stooped to clean up the mess. “All it takes are a few tricks and most of the problems never arise.”

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