Promise of Yesterday (17 page)

Her friend paused the rubbing motion and crumbled the rag in her fist. “I’m sorry, Marylu. That wasn’t called for. I know you’re trying to help me. I just want to go and have fun and not worry about Sally and Aaron.”

What it meant to Marylu was that Jenny’s run-in with Aaron had not resulted in his asking her to attend the show with him. She had so hoped he would. The day he bought the material would have been fine timing for him to admit Sally was not the one for him, or even today at the hardware store. She huffed.
Lord, in Your time. Not mine
. Though she sure wished the Lord would hurry up anyway.

“You’re just feeling a might nervous, that’s all. You don’t have to tell me nothing.”

Jenny’s gaze shifted, and her hand began an unconscious circular motion along the display case. “He was kind to me. Even asked if I’d changed my mind about attending the show.”

“And you said yes.”

“I told him about the dress and thanked him again.”

“And you stood there and stared at each other like the two addle-brained lovers you are.”

“Marylu!”

“Well, it’s true. Just he can’t see it quite clear yet. He will, though, you can be sure of that.”

“No.” Jenny bowed her head, the rag hung from her fingertips. “I don’t think he cares. He’s probably trying to be kind.”

“Kind don’t buy a woman a dress.”

“He didn’t buy it.”

“Might as well have,” Marylu argued. “He paid for the material.”

“Because he is kindhearted. Nothing more.”

Marylu hoped with all her soul that it wasn’t because he was kind. No, it couldn’t be. Not with the way she had seen him look at Jenny that day in the shop. What he needed was another visit from her. A reminder.

Jenny slumped into the chair next to Marylu and covered her eyes. “Do you think there’s any hope for me?”

Her friend’s voice seemed so small and uncertain. Marylu stabbed her needle into the material and went to Jenny. She put her arms around the woman. “If he can’t see the woman that Sally is and the difference between you and her, then you need to be looking elsewhere anyway. I’ll not have your heart hurt by a man who can’t tell the difference between a woman and a shrew.”

“Marylu!”

“Well, it’s true. She doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Jenny’s arms tightened around Marylu. “Thank you, my friend.”

Chester raised his hand to knock on the door of Jenny McGreary’s house.

Zedikiah answered with a huge grin on his face.

Heartened to see the young man’s obvious good cheer, Chester returned his smile and sat down at the table across from Cooper. The spark was back in the older man’s eyes. Only on rare occasion did he cough.

Zedikiah slipped in beside Chester and pulled the Bible close.

“Read?” Chester asked.

Zedikiah raised his eyes from the pages of the Bible. “My mama taught me. Miss Marylu taught her.”

Cooper leaned forward. “His mama was quite a woman. Reminded me some of our Marylu.”

Chester’s eyes rolled to the older man. Something about the way Cooper said that, about Zedikiah’s mother, set his mind to roiling. How was it that Marylu had never picked up on Cooper’s love for her?

Even the way Zedikiah tilted his head at the old man said something. “You knew Mama?”

“‘Course,” Cooper snapped. “Most everyone know everyone here in town.”

Zedikiah lowered his gaze to the pages.

Chester felt for the boy. Cooper’s irritability seemed unwarranted and uncharacteristic. Or maybe it was a side of the old man he was just discovering. “What reading?” He asked Zedikiah to change the subject.

“About King David and Absalom. He got into trouble because he betrayed his father.”

Words froze in Chester’s mind.
Betrayal
, a word he understood so well. “Happened?”

“Haven’t finished reading it yet.” Zedikiah raised his eyes. Chester caught the quick, cautious glance he shot at Cooper. Like a man eyeing a growling, snapping dog.

“Had friend. He betray me.”

Zedikiah didn’t seem shocked by the news, and Chester figured the boy had heard bits and pieces of his story over the last few weeks. “If you were my daddy, would you tell me?”

Chester saw the earnestness in the boy’s expression and understood where the question, in regard to betrayal, had come from. He nodded and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Be proud to have son like you.” He stumbled over the phrase but felt it important that Zedikiah understand his sincerity.

Zedikiah’s face crumbled, and he stared down at the Bible again. Chester happened to glance over at Cooper, shocked when he saw the old man fighting tears.

“Cooper proud, too,” he added, tapping Zedikiah’s hand and indicating Cooper.

But instead of Cooper agreeing, he got up and shuffled out of the room.

Chester shrugged.

Zedikiah seemed nonplussed. “Maybe he’s sick again.”

Chester didn’t think so. Something ate at the man. An idea swirled in his head. He, too, got to his feet. “Where Marylu?”

Zedikiah pointed at the cookstove, where pots bubbled merrily. “She left out the back door to get something from the garden. Probably cabbage.” Zedikiah made a face.

Chester chuckled and pushed to his feet. “I’ll go. Help her.” He stepped out back and into the cool night air. He knew that the garden lay back a ways, to his right. He’d noticed the first sprigs of greenery a couple of weeks ago and seen Cooper working the ground. Now, in the light of the waning moon, he could just make out the form of someone headed his way from that direction.

“When did you get here?” Marylu’s voice washed over him as she stepped into the circle of weak light falling through the window. “It’s a right good thing I have plenty cooking up in those pots.” She stared down into her apron, where a bountiful supply of greens were piled. “Collards?” Chester questioned.

She nodded at him. “Got some spinach in here, too. Now if you’ll just hold that door for me.”

He hopped up the steps and did as she bid him to. She lifted her apron onto the table and dumped her bounty out in front of Zedikiah. “Where’d Cooper go?”

“Room,” Chester answered before Zedikiah.

Marylu laid eyes on Zedikiah. “You get back to his room and tell him to help you pick through this pile. Separate the spinach from the collards. Wash them up for me, too.” She spun on her heel and headed Chester’s way.

He threw open the door all over again. “Help?” he asked, as she passed him.

“I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

He followed her down the path and out onto the moist, newly plowed soil and across to the patch that held rows of greens.

Chester watched as she leaned down, her fingers tearing at the leaves. “Cooper’s a fine hand at planting winter greens, but it takes a mountain to move his body when it comes to harvesting. Guess he feels he’s done his work by that time.”

He wanted to say something about Cooper’s strange reaction but got distracted at the sight of Marylu. The dusky haze that beckoned nighttime highlighted the white of her apron. He swallowed and bent to the work. When he had his hands full, he straightened.

“Bring them on over here to me.”

His feet sunk into the soft earth. When he reached Marylu, her apron already pregnant with greens, he dropped the bundle into the snowy white cloth. He lifted his eyes to her face and studied the cheekbones lined by the lowering sun, the maple syrup of her eyes. The urge to kiss her pulled at him, yet he hesitated. Too late, she lowered her face.

“I’ll leave the rest for now,” she said and took a step back.

Chester’s heart squeezed in his chest. He didn’t move, and neither did she, but she didn’t look at him either. He wondered if she had felt it too, that pull. The moon brightened and shone down stronger on her shoulders.

She gave him a furtive glance then leaned her head back to look up into the sky. “It’s beautiful,” Marylu whispered. “Makes me wonder if Miss Jenny is having a good time.”

He didn’t want to talk about Jenny or Cooper or Zedikiah. He wanted to tell her how her skin glowed with a subtle light and how her patience had grown his confidence. That her kind words swelled his courage and made him feel more worthy than he had felt in a long time. That though she discounted what she had done, she would always be a heroine to him. Driven by the deep longing of his heart, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “You beautiful.”

Her eyes glowed, and she did not look away as he’d feared she might. “Only one other person has told me that before.”

He wasn’t surprised by the revelation. “Tell me.”

Her lower lip trembled. She could and would have looked away if he hadn’t held her chin. It was obvious to him that what she was about to tell him was painful. He dropped his hand from her cheek and stroked down her arm, only to clasp her fingers and squeeze, willing his strength to be hers.

She wanted so much not to cry. Walter was a long time ago and now she had this man standing in front of her, loving her, and all she could think about was
him
. It wasn’t fair to Chester, yet something beckoned her to bare her heart to him as he had to her.

“His name was Walter.” She swallowed hard. “He was one of the people we rescued that night. He got hurt in the rescue, and my ankle got busted. I cared for him for three months, and we fell in love.” She paused and raised her eyes to the sky, dark and full of stars. “At least
I
fell in love,” she whispered.

It pained her to say that, to admit it. And yet it felt so right to say those words to the man who had already declared his love for her. She felt his gentle squeeze on her fingers again and stared into his face, surprised to see the tears on his cheeks. How could she have ever thought this man, this gentle heart, could have murdered another man in cold blood?

“He left me. Said he had to move on while he could.” She pressed her lips together. “But I couldn’t move on.”

With his free hand, Chester pointed to himself. “I no leave.”

Her lips trembled, and she bit down hard on the lower one. Tears slid out from under her lids, and she squeezed her eyes tight, willing away the torrent that threatened. The soft pads of his thumbs wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. When she felt the palms of his hands press against the sides of her face, she opened her eyes.

“I’m not Walter.” And with that he leaned forward and planted a warm kiss on her forehead.

A creaking sound broke the stillness surrounding them. “Marylu? Me and Zedikiah are awful hungry,” Cooper croaked in a voice that probably carried halfway across the town.

Marylu blinked up at Chester. “I guess Zedikiah got him to help after all.” She grinned. Then, softer, “We need to be going inside.”

Chester looked down toward their feet and chuckled. She followed his gaze, not understanding what he found so funny until she realized all the greens lay in a heap at their feet. In all the emotion of the last few moments, she’d forgotten the greens and released her apron.

“Guess we’d best be picking more, or they might think—”

Chester’s laugh barked out. “We kissing?”

Marylu ducked her head and made as if to kneel to collect the leaves, but his hand under her elbow pulled her upright. He put his arm around her shoulder and wheeled her around to face the back of the house. “I don’t mind them thinking it. You?” The words came out so clear, so full of conviction. His eyes danced with the mischief he must have felt.

Her shyness melted away. “No. No, I don’t mind a bit.”

She popped through the doorway first, squinting against the bright lantern light. Cooper had resumed his seat, but she didn’t miss his raised brow nor Zedikiah’s inquisitive gaze.

“Got all these sorted,” the boy said. “Thought you were bringing more.”

Chester stepped through the door behind her, and she moved aside.

“Were. They got lost,” Chester replied with a grin and a wink. When every eye fell on Marylu, it was more than she could take. She crossed to the cookstove and began stirring.

Zedikiah sidled up beside her and placed the basket of collards beside her and another basket of spinach beside that.

“You go wash up. Supper will be done soon.”

Zedikiah nodded and relayed the message to the other men.

She got lost in the final preparations of supper and got everyone fed and the kitchen cleaned up in record time, her ear tuned in to the chatter of the men. As she put away the last plate, her mind buzzed about the minstrel show and Miss Jenny. What made her smile was the image of Sally’s face when she set her eyes on Miss Jenny’s dress. That should set her back on her heels.

Marylu set the dish towel aside and turned, colliding with a solid chest. Chester’s hands clasped her upper arms as her hand groped for something solid to steady herself. She latched onto a chunk of his shirt front. Her cheeks heated, and she released him. “You enjoy flustering me,” she shot at him.

His mouth curved upward for a second before he released her and stepped away.

“If I had my dish towel, I’d give you a good swat.”

“If you two will stop your lovers’ spat,” Cooper groused, “we can read the Good Book.”

Marylu sent Chester a mock frown and stepped around him. Chester settled down beside her, and she felt the same protected feeling she had felt on the wagon seat. His eyes were not on her, though, but on Cooper.