Where Love Dwells (19 page)

He grinned. “Especially when we have snowdrifts taller than I am.”

“Travel is easier in spring and summer. . . .”

“Which is precisely when you're busy with the guests who travel here to Candlewood to stay at Hill House, and when I travel more often, as well,” he interjected. “Obviously, when I have business in New York City, we'd travel by canal for comfort's sake. When I have business in Bounty, I was hoping we might ride there together. We'd also have time to visit your sons and their families.”

Her eyes widened with new understanding about the gift he had given to her. “That's why you had Mercy shipped north for me instead of purchasing an ordinary horse here.”

“A walking horse has a different gait, so you can ride Mercy literally all day and still be comfortable, which you no doubt discovered traveling to and from Bounty,” he said defensively.

“Then your gift held yet one more surprise for me. Perhaps
if you'd mentioned why you'd purchased a walking horse for me at the time, we could have had the conversation then that we're having now,” she argued and gently removed her hand from his. “Why didn't you tell me then? Was it truly an oversight? Or did you deliberately not tell me?”

“Did you think to ask? Or were you so taken with my gift that it didn't matter at all?” he countered.

She swallowed hard. “In all truth, I was so enthralled with your gift and with the prospect of marrying you that I didn't press you to know why you'd gone to the expense of bringing Mercy here. At the time, I thought you were being an overzealous suitor, although I probably should have known otherwise.”

He cocked his head. “Have I been overzealous?”

“Only occasionally,” she murmured. Determined not to be distracted from his insistence they could not make Hill House their home, she pressed him on the issue. “Other than what you've already told me, have you any other objections to living here at Hill House?”

His gaze hardened. “Only the most important one. Even if you did arrange for someone to take your place from time to time so we could travel together, living here would mean that we would be constantly surrounded by your guests, as well as any number of staff members. I'm a selfish man, Emma Garrett. I prefer to have my wife to myself when I'm at home, although I wouldn't mind sharing her with family members or guests from time to time,” he added.

A blush of heat rushed from the tips of her toes to her cheeks, but his words also unleashed a host of objections of her own. “What about Wryn?” she argued without giving any thought to organizing her protests into any sort of order by importance. “I just told her that if she changed her ways and wanted to live here with me at Hill House, she could.”

“If and how Wryn changes her ways shouldn't be your concern,
although I understand why you've taken charge of her for the limited period of time she's residing at Hill House between now and your birthday. After that, she's Mark and Catherine's responsibility, and I daresay the goal for everyone involved should be to return her home to live with her mother. That said, I suppose I could agree to reconsider allowing Wryn to remain living here in Candlewood in our home, should that become the only alternative.”

Barely mollified, Emma stiffened her back before voicing her most important concern of all—one that wrapped itself around her heart until it ached. “What about Mother Garrett? I always promised she could live with me. If you expect me to sell Hill House—”

“I expect your mother-in-law will make her home with us, wherever we are. My home is large enough that she would have a room to herself on the second floor.”

“I was thinking more about a room on the first floor, specifically the kitchen,” Emma countered. “In the five years we have known one another, you could not have overlooked the very real and significant fact that I cannot cook well and that Mother Garrett has always, always ruled my kitchen.”

He laughed, breaking a bit more of the tension between them. “Then I shall relinquish the kitchen in my own home to her very capable hands.”

Still not convinced his plan to move the three of them into his home would work, Emma offered another objection. “What about your housekeeper, Widow Ellis?”

The smile on Zachary's face disappeared. “Oh.”

“Precisely my reaction. With two, possibly three people moving into your house, Widow Ellis would have enough cleaning and laundry to keep herself busy, but putting those two women together in the same house would be like flicking a lit match onto a bale of hay. Your house withstood the fires that spread through
town after the match factory exploded, but I wouldn't expect the same to happen twice.”

“You're right, but firing Widow Ellis presents a whole host of new problems, since I was the only one to offer her employment after her husband died.”

“But you'd have to let her go if you moved into Hill House, although I daresay she'd find the reason for her dismissal a bit more understandable,” she offered, sensing that their conversation had finally turned in her direction.

“Even if you're right and I did agree we could live at Hill House, that wouldn't alter the fact that I want to offer you more than just a different life as my wife. I want you to have a better life. One where you don't have to spend every waking moment of every single day working to accommodate your guests, which is precisely what would happen if we lived here together.”

He gentled his words. “I know how much the boardinghouse means to you and how committed you have been to making Hill House a haven where guests receive much more than just a meal or a place to sleep. But giving it up doesn't mean you have to stop helping other people. Living in town should give you ample opportunities to do that.”

He paused and captured her gaze. “I love you, Emma Hires Garrett, with my whole heart. Promise me you'll think about the life I'm offering you, the life we can share together.”

Moved by his deep affection for her, she blinked back tears. “Yes, I promise,” she whispered, praying she might be able to make one of the most difficult decisions of her life—to leave Hill House to become his wife . . . or to stay and spend the rest of her days alone as a widow.

17

D
RESSING FOR DINNER
after Zachary left, Emma settled for wearing the first gown she had tried on after twice changing her mind. The rose pin she wore as a symbol of her betrothal looked best against the winter green color, and she paused for a moment to trace the delicate gold petals, wondering if she had made the right decision to remarry at all.

With Reverend Glenn and Aunt Frances arriving with Zachary soon for dinner, however, she set aside worrying about the difficult decisions she had to make, considering the conditions Zachary had added to his proposal of marriage. She pinched a bit of color to her cheeks and slipped out of her room into the hallway. She tiptoed to the center staircase to avoid disturbing Mark and Catherine or waking the twins, who were napping, and continued quitely until she got to the bottom of the stairs.

Resuming her natural step, she checked the dining room and smiled when she saw the two high chairs pulled up to the table, which had already been set for their midday meal. Satisfied, she followed the luscious smells into the kitchen, where Liesel was busy at the table filling a platter with cookies. Two loaves of pumpernickel
bread sat cooling on the table, too. Since the bread had not been sliced, Emma snatched a molasses cookie, took a bite, and closed her eyes to savor the hearty flavor.

“They're my favorite, too,” Liesel offered as she started adding sugar cookies to the platter.

Grinning, Emma moistened her lips to catch a few crumbs. “Where is everyone?”

“Mother Garrett went upstairs to freshen up before dinner after she sent Ditty into town on an errand. There! That should be enough, don't you think?” she asked, pointing to the virtual mountain range of cookies.

Emma swallowed the last bite of her cookie. “I should hope so,” she said and walked over to check the soup simmering on the cookstove. “After what happened to Ditty last time, I'm surprised Mother Garrett sent her into town alone.”

“Oh, I guess I forgot that part. Wryn went with her, just to make sure she didn't fall again,” Leisel said as she picked up the platter. “If you wouldn't mind watching the cookstove, I'll be right back. I want to set this on the sideboard, and I promised Mother Garrett I'd make sure there were enough chairs on the patio in case we decide to have dessert outside.”

“Go ahead.”

“I won't be long,” she promised, nudging the door open with her shoulder and backing into the dining room.

Emma took a deep breath, thought about the trouble Wryn and Ditty could get themselves into, and headed for the tin of licorice root she had hidden in the cupboard. “It can't be gone,” she grumbled as she poked her head into the cupboard and used her fingers to search behind a stack of crockery bowls, nearly knocking them over in the process.

“If you're looking for the tin of licorice root, it's not there.”

Startled, Emma knocked the top of her head on the edge of the first shelf and inadvertently sent a couple of bowls crashing to the floor. “Ouch!”

“I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Did you hurt yourself?” Mother Garrett said when Emma turned to face her.

Emma gently patted the top of her head. “No, I'm fine. Just irritated. How did you know what I was looking for?”

“Because I just found that tin of licorice root this morning. I didn't know it was yours. I thought maybe I'd just forgotten that I stashed it there,” she said and grabbed a large knife. Skirting the broken pieces of crockery on the floor, she headed for the bread. “I have the tin up in my room. I'll get it for you.”

Emma sighed. “No, you keep it. I'm giving up. If I tried until I was ninety, I'd still detest the taste.”

“And you might have all your teeth intact,” Mother Garrett quipped as she started slicing the bread.

Emma bent down and started picking up the largest pieces of the broken bowls. “Liesel said Ditty and Wryn went into town on an errand for you.”

“You didn't want me to send Ditty alone, did you?”

“No,” Emma replied as she walked past Mother Garrett to set the pieces she had gathered up into a bucket on the floor by the sink.

“You wanted me to send Wryn into town alone?”

Emma grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the finer pieces. “No. I suppose I'm just a little worried.”

“I thought you said you talked to that young woman and got matters set straight.”

“I did, but—”

“Widow Garrett?”

Emma turned about and saw Liesel standing there, a puzzled look on the young woman's face. “Yes, Liesel?”

“Weren't the goats supposed to be tied up to graze down by the gazebo?”

Emma's heart dropped, and she tightened her hold on the broom. “Of course they were. I saw them there just a little while ago.”

Liesel cringed. “They aren't—”

“They aren't tied?” Emma cried.

“No, they aren't there at all.”

“Mark must have put them back in the pen instead of moving them like he said he was going to do,” Mother Garrett remarked.

“I looked. They're not there, either. They're just . . . gone.”

Emma shook her head. “I knew something like this would happen. I just knew it,” she groaned. “Those three nanny goats probably ate right through that rope. I wouldn't be surprised if they're munching their way down Main Street right now,” she remarked and looked at Mother Garrett. “I'll take over slicing the bread for you. You'll need to take Liesel with you, too, and you can recruit Ditty and Wryn, since you'll probably pass them on their way home.”

Mother Garrett brandished her knife. “Me? I'm not hunting down those runaway goats.”

Emma huffed. “They're your goats, not mine. You brought them home with you, or was that a different woman I saw sitting in the front of the wagon with Mr. Kirk that day?” she charged, hoping to spark Mother Garrett's ire a bit by referring to her rival.

“As if Widow Franklin would deign to put her dainty self in a farm wagon!”

Emma flashed a victory grin. “Then you did bring those goats to Hill House, which makes them yours.”

“No, Mr. Kirk brought them here as a gift to you. I've got no claim on those goats at all, which means I'm staying right here to fix the rest of dinner, and so is Liesel, unless you want dinner to be late.”

“No, but—”

“You might want to take that broom with you to scoot them home, and I wouldn't mind if you borrowed my umbrella. Makes a good poking stick.”

“Fine. The two of you stay here and fix dinner. Even though I'm dressed for company, I'll look for the goats. But the next time Mr. Kirk comes to call, I'll need the entire contents of two tins of licorice root to keep me from telling that man he's a . . . a nuisance in my life!”

Mother Garrett shrugged. “I couldn't put it any better myself.”

Emma held on to her broom and stomped her way to the patio. She peeked over the high stone wall, hoping to get a glimpse of the goats, but she only saw the pegs in the grass and an empty pen. “Horrid creatures,” she gritted and charged down the steps. As soon as she reached the plateau, she marched to the closest peg in the ground.

Oddly enough, the rope had not been chewed through, as she had suspected. In fact, the entire rope was gone, which meant someone had removed it and taken the goats.

She laughed out loud, almost giddy with the joyful prospect someone had stolen the three nanny goats—until she heard a distinctive bleating sound behind her. She looked up, spied the three nanny goats now tied to the gazebo, and gasped. Benjamin, her middle son, was standing right next to those goats, and inside the gazebo, his wife, Betsy, was standing in back of their three little children, who were all standing on the bench waving to her.