Blowing on Dandelions (25 page)

Chapter Thirty

Micah shaded his eyes from the morning sun, surveying the monumental job he had avoided so long. He brushed his arm across his forehead, wiping away the rivulets of sweat. He wished it were that easy to erase the disappointment reflected in his son’s gaze when he’d followed him outside nearly two weeks ago. It seemed impossible so much time had passed since he’d held Katherine. On the other hand, it felt like a lifetime. Their paths had crossed a number of times since, but there’d been no opportunity for a private talk.

Maybe it was just as well, as she appeared to struggle with looking him square in the face—but that might also be due to the watchful eyes of her mother. He didn’t know, and he’d about given up trying to figure it out. At least his leg was sufficiently mended to accomplish some work.

He tossed another burnt board from his ruined livery stable onto a pile, wishing for the thousandth time he had the courage to attend the social and dance later this afternoon. The idea of having an excuse to hold Katherine in his arms again, if only for one dance, made his mouth go dry and his heart pound.

“Hey, Jacobs, I thought I’d lend a hand for an hour or so, if you’ve a mind to let me.” Pastor Seth strolled up to the wood keg where Micah was pitching the nails and pieces of metal.

He jerked upright, clutching his hammer to keep from dropping it. “Howdy, Pastor. Sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. It’s pretty dirty work. I’m afraid you’ll be black as a coal miner if you chance it.”

Seth shrugged and rolled up his sleeves, exposing strong forearms that had seen their share of sun. “Last time I checked, soot washes off.”

Micah wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but most preachers he’d known were not accustomed to physical labor. He grinned and pointed at a pile. “I’ve made some headway, but if you want to toss those boards onto my wagon, that would be fine. I’ve pulled all the nails so they should be safe. I’m keeping any usable boards, but those aren’t worth saving.”

The pastor pitched in without another word.

Minutes later Tom Collier from the hardware store sauntered over, tugging on a pair of leather gloves. “This a private party, or can anyone join in?”

Pastor Seth waved a hand at the back wall of the building. “Dig in. Jacobs wants everything removed.”

“Brought my own tools.” Collier plucked a hammer from a loop on his hip. “One of the advantages of owning a hardware store, doncha know?” He chuckled and strode to the back wall.

Before the hour struck seven, more men arrived, each acting as though he’d just been wandering by, but from the pleased expression on the pastor’s face, Micah doubted that was the case. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or embarrassed, but as the men dove in, the rubble that would have taken him all day to remove disappeared in a fraction of the time.

Micah tossed the last nail from a board into the barrel and walked over to Seth. “Want to tell me how this came about?”

Seth grinned and winked. “Nope, don’t think I care to. You getting hungry yet?”

Micah took off his hat and scratched his head. “I brought a pail with a sandwich and an apple, but I’m afraid I don’t have enough for everyone. By dinnertime we’ll be done, and the men can head on home.”

Seth tipped his head back and chortled. “Somehow I don’t think the ladies will want all this soot tracked into their houses, but that’s not going to be a problem.”

Micah lifted an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pastor planted a firm hand on each of Micah’s shoulders and turned him around. “Look there at what’s coming up the street.”

The rumble of wagons and the chatter of women’s voices reached Micah’s ears. He’d been so engrossed in his work he hadn’t noticed the increase in the late-morning traffic. Four wagons, each pulled by a team of horses, rolled toward him. Two were filled with women and boxes, while the other two were piled with lumber. His jaw sagged.
What in the world?

Seth slapped him on the back. “Better shut that mouth, Jacobs, before it fills with dust. You want to be able to taste all that good food the ladies are bringing.”

Micah swung around and grabbed the man’s arm. “Tell me what’s going on here.” He focused on the first wagon. Katherine sat on the front seat proud and tall, her face beaming as she clutched a small box on her lap.

The teamster driving one of the lumber wagons pulled off to the side, wrapping the reins around the brake and jumping to the ground. “Where you want this unloaded, Jacobs?”

Micah tightened his grip on Seth’s arm. “I didn’t order that lumber, and I can’t pay for it.” He wanted to shake some sense into the well-meaning reverend. This was getting out of hand, and he had to bring it under control.

Seth laid his hand over Micah’s fingers. “I know you can’t, and so does he.” He nodded toward a big, blond-haired man wearing dungarees held up by a pair of suspenders. The man was striding in their direction. “That’s George Mayfield, the owner of the mill outside of town. Talk to him, why don’t you?”

Micah groaned. The pastor meant well, but he’d gone too far. It was one thing to accept some hours of help from the townspeople, but another thing entirely to accept lumber he couldn’t pay for. He stepped forward. “Mr. Mayfield, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.” He dropped his voice as the man drew to a halt. “I appreciate the thought, but I didn’t order these supplies. I’m sorry you went to the trouble, and I’ll pay for your time as soon as I’m able.”

The man slid his thumbs down the inside of his suspenders and then ran them back to the top. “I was hoping we could make us a trade, Jacobs.”

Micah’s thoughts whirled but couldn’t settle on what Mr. Mayfield was saying. The happy chatter of women, the neigh of a horse, the ringing of hammers against boards, and the thump of boots as men unloaded boxes of food and set planks on sawhorses distracted him. Cloths were thrown over the makeshift tables, and plates and flatware were unwrapped as he stood there and gawked.

“Uh, Jacobs?” George Mayfield rocked back on his heels and grinned. “Want to wait and palaver about this after dinner? Looks like yer attention is on the food those ladies brung us.”

Micah started and blinked, ashamed that he’d ignored the man. “Forgive me, Mr. Mayfield. I reckon this is a lot for me to take in. I wasn’t expecting help today, and now …” He waved toward the bustle of activity in front of what had once been his livery. “Well, now people show up, and you bring lumber, and I’m not sure what to think.” He turned, working to gather his disjointed thoughts. “You said something about a trade?”

“Yes, sir, I did at that.” Mayfield jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I got stacks of lumber out at my mill, but I also got two broke-down wagons, a harness wanting repair, a busted wheel, and three horses in bad need of shoes. I’d planned on bringing the work to you ’bout the time your building caught fire, then you was laid up and couldn’t work. I’ll admit, I’m doing this as much for myself as you, but I hope you won’t hold that a’gin me. You’d be doing me a service if you’d consider it.”

Micah shook his head. “You’re saying you want to trade all this lumber for work? But there’s enough here to frame up a whole new building.”

“Yep, and more coming for the siding, along with a load of shingles, if you’ll take ’em.”

Micah held up his hand. “Whoa, now. No, sir. That’s too much. I’ll owe you more than the work you mentioned.”

Mayfield shrugged. “Makes me no never mind, Jacobs. I’ve got a tally of it all back at my office. Believe me, I’ll not be shy about asking you to work when I need it. I run a business, and something is always breaking down at the wrong time. I lost my smithy a couple of months ago and figured on replacing him till I heard you’d come to town. My work alone will keep you busy for the next month. ’Course, it don’t all have to be done back-to-back, if you get other folks needing your time. Long as you fix that harness and a couple of my wagons, and shoe the horses, that’ll tide me over for a mite.” He stuck out a beefy, work-hardened hand. “Is it a deal?”

Micah grinned and stretched out his arm. “Yes, sir, I’d say it is. I can’t thank you enough.”

Mayfield heaved a sigh. “Don’t be thanking me too fast, Jacobs. You might be cussin’ me by the time we’re finished.”

“I hardly think so.” Micah watched the man stride back to the wagons. A surge of joy and gratitude swelled to the point where he was sure his heart would burst. All of this was Seth’s doing, he knew it. He searched for the pastor, and his heart jolted again. Katherine stood only feet away, her blue eyes ablaze with joy—and something else—as they met his. He wanted to race forward, swoop her into the air, and swing her around, but he clamped his arms to his sides and froze. He’d promised Katherine to respect their decision to put their children first and hoped Mrs. Cooper’s attitude toward him would change. If it killed him, he’d keep that promise.

Even from the distance that separated them, Katherine could see the fire that lit Micah’s eyes as soon as he saw her … and then, just as quickly, faded. His hands clenched into balls, and his body stiffened. Had she offended him somehow, or had he discovered she’d helped plan this day and resented her for it? She prayed he wasn’t humiliated by something one of the men had said. Or was refusing to swallow his pride and accept the supplies offered.

She wanted to run to him and pour out a dozen questions—things she’d been longing to ask for the past several days. What had happened between him and Zachary that night the children discovered them in the parlor? Did he regret the declaration he’d made about caring for her and wish he’d kept silent? She moved forward when a step beside her made her pause.
Oh dear.
She’d forgotten Mama and Wilma Roberts had insisted on coming along.

“Katherine, where do you want these pies?” Mrs. Roberts tapped her on the arm. “Oh, I see you are staring at Mr. Jacobs. Well, if you ask me, he certainly is a fine-looking specimen.”

“I wasn’t staring at him, Mrs. Roberts. You can place the pies on the end of this table. Is Lucy making herself useful?” She turned her back on the man in question, but not before she saw him pivot away.

“Yes, as is little Mandy. Fine girls you have raised, Mrs. Galloway. They do you proud.”

Katherine drew a breath, thankful she’d derailed the conversation. “Thank you.”

“Yes, indeed. But it is not good for a woman to spend the rest of her life alone. When I first arrived at your boardinghouse, I had hoped Mr. Jacobs might be interested in my Beth, but it appears he only has eyes for you. And according to what I’ve seen …” Her voice raised a notch and she bumped Katherine with her elbow. “… the feeling is mutual.”

Heat rose in Katherine’s cheeks and she dipped her head, hoping the eagle-eyed Mrs. Roberts wouldn’t notice. “I can’t imagine where you’ve heard that, Mrs. Roberts. Mr. Jacobs and I are only friends.”

“Ha, that is not what a certain little birdie told me.”

Katherine forced herself to relax. “It is never good to listen to gossip.”

“Oh, it wasn’t gossip, my dear. It came straight from your mother.”

Katherine blinked. She hadn’t expected Mama to talk. In fact, she’d assumed Mama would want to bury the episode. Nothing had been mentioned over the past week or so other than an occasional cold stare or sharp grunt. “Are you implying my mother was conveying good news or ill tidings, Mrs. Roberts?”

“Oh, certainly not good news, my dear. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I would think she was hoping to start a bit of a scandal and force Mr. Jacobs to move. I told her it was an ill wind that would blow no one any good, and she would do well to keep her own counsel. I reminded her that you are a grown woman and a pretty one, at that. Your two girls could use a father, and I’m sure it wouldn’t upset you having a man around the house.”

The matron beamed. “She and I have gotten quite close since her illness. That is, when she’s not angry with me over one thing or another, but that is happening less. I am still convinced the only thing that ails her is that she needs a friend, and I am determined to fill that role for as long as I am here.” She lifted her head and smiled. “She may not appreciate it yet, but she will. Mark my words.”

Katherine patted the woman’s arm, thankful the subject had swung to her mother. “I’m sure she will, and you are a saint to keep at it, Mrs. Roberts. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to find my girls.”

“Not at all. In fact, I should see how Frances is faring. I left her sitting in the shade and instructed her to stay off her feet. We don’t want gout sending her back to bed.”

Katherine slipped away, but not before peering over her shoulder in the direction Micah had gone. Disappointment rocked her when she saw the spot where he’d stood was vacant. But it might not be a good idea to seek him out anytime soon. She didn’t want tongues to wag. The last thing she needed was the town setting them up as a courting couple. What had her mother been thinking, and what, exactly, had she said to Mrs. Roberts? Katherine didn’t know, but she intended to find out.