Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel (21 page)

“Greta! Come here and button up the back of my dress now!” Agnes shrieked. Greta and Cora shared a conspiratorial look.

“Excuse me, but I believe the queen is calling,” Greta whispered in Cora’s ear. “We’ll talk later.” She scurried back behind the muslin curtain, anxious to get the dress project started. She pitied the woman who had made all of Agnes’s clothes in the past. Still, while she didn’t know if she could handle Agnes’s bossy attitude, Greta thought it might be enjoyable to have a sewing task to keep her busy.

———

Cora wanted to get busy, but first she needed to see Caleb. She waited until he and Zach were on the last load of supplies for the widow Jones before she approached. “Caleb, can I speak with you a moment before you leave?”

Caleb turned to face her, his eyebrows knitted together across his forehead. “I guess . . . sure.”

She pulled him near the window, reached into her dress pocket, and handed him the knife.

“What? I told you I’d put it back or pay for it.” Caleb frowned, turning over the fine knife in his hands.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Didn’t you say you have a birthday soon? Think of it as an early present.” She beamed into the young lad’s face shadowed by the beginning of a beard.

“You mean you bought it for me? No one ever bought me a present before,” he said. His voice deepened as he examined the knife’s mother-of-pearl handle. “Thank you, Cora. It’s a beauty.”

Cora clasped her hands together in the folds of her skirt. “Well, it’s about time someone bought you something. I’m not sure what you want to do with it, though.”

Caleb shifted from one foot to the other. “I like to whittle in my free time. It sorta relaxes me.”

Cora smiled. “You’d better be going—Zach’s waiting for you outside.”

His solemn face split into a broad smile, and to her surprise and pleasure, Caleb gave her shoulder a swift hug. He bounded out the door, taking the stairs two at a time.

She had a warm feeling in her heart as she wandered over to Greta and Agnes, who were knee-deep in bolts of material scattered across the counter. From the look on Greta’s face, her friend was very perturbed.

“Have you found anything that suits you better?” Greta asked. “It looks to me like you’ve been through about everything we have in stock.”

Cora caught Greta’s eye. She knew Greta was trying hard to keep her emotions from showing. Maybe Cora could give Agnes a little nudge so she could make a decision.

Agnes looked up as she approached. “I just can’t decide between the gingham and the dimity. What do you think? The pattern has an off-the-shoulder flounce blouse.” She showed Cora the design.

“Hmm. I think if you choose the red-and-white gingham, you might blend right in with the tablecloths!” She laughed, then abruptly closed her mouth at the sharp look from Agnes. “But the white dimity will be cool and comfortable for a hot summer picnic.”

Greta nodded. “I totally agree with you, Cora,” she said, running her hand across the smooth, white fabric. “We can accentuate with your choice of ribbon and perhaps add that to a straw hat for contrast.”

Agnes rested her hand on her hip and tapped her foot thoughtfully, a manicured finger against her cheek. “If you both think I won’t look too washed out . . .”

“Nothing could make you look washed out, Agnes.” Jess came and stood next to the ladies, a pencil behind one ear and a stack of men’s work shirts filling his arms. Cora watched his warm brown eyes swerve from Agnes to Greta. His face seemed to light up—or was it wishful thinking on her part?

“You’re so sweet to say so.” Agnes’s pink lips pouted as she watched his interest shift to Greta.

“Greta, do you think you can fold these real neat like you did the overalls? I’m afraid I’m all thumbs when it comes to presentation.”

“I’ll be happy to, Jess. Could you just put them right here for now?” She cleared the end of the cutting board for him, making a place to pile the shirts. “We’re nearly finished here.”

“No hurry, but can you make them look like they’re worth buying?” He gave her a lopsided grin as he backed away, then bumped into a sharp corner of a shelf and yelped. He rubbed his back and said, “I’ll leave you ladies to finish what you’re doing. I . . . uh . . . have some important matters I must attend to.”

Aha!
Cora thought.
I knew it! There is something about the way he watches Greta whenever she’s near.
But she didn’t see any reaction from Greta to indicate one way or the other that it mattered to her. Before today, Cora might’ve felt some jealousy, but after Zach’s kisses by Clear Creek . . .

19

With just a hint of fall in the afternoon sun spreading across Granny’s porch, Greta didn’t think there could be a more pleasant luncheon than today’s. After dinner at Annabelle and Silas’s, she’d been worried about the outcome. But nothing had happened yet to upset the peace of the day. After an uplifting sermon, she and Cora were embraced by many of the churchgoers as they stood outside preparing to leave. Soon after, they’d driven over to Granny’s for lunch, and none of them were disappointed as they enjoyed second helpings, which only made Granny smile wider. Greta focused on the hot corn bread, baked chicken, scalloped potatoes, and garden green beans garnished with juicy ripe tomatoes, trying to ignore the growing lump in her throat. After the meal, she helped carry Granny’s famous rhubarb pie out to the porch, where everyone retired for dessert. She cut slices while Granny plopped a dollop of cream on top, and suddenly she remembered that Bryan had loved rhubarb pie.

It was apparent in everything she said and did that Granny simply loved her grandsons, making Greta wish she had living grandparents. She wondered just how much she and her sisters had missed.

Caleb was the first to praise the dessert. “I didn’t think I had room for one more bite of anything, but Granny, this is absolutely delicious!”

Granny patted his shoulder. “It’s my specialty, you know!”

Cora sat next to Jess on the porch swing. Zach sat on the top step of the porch. Was it Greta’s imagination, or was he avoiding her by not sitting by her? Ever since he and Cora had returned yesterday, he’d put distance between himself and Greta as they worked in the mercantile.

She watched as Granny pulled up her rocker and sat down, her round cheeks flushed with happiness. “This here’s a right fine gathering of folks, but I’d rather be attending a wedding. So who’s getting married and when? And Jess, I’m going to need to get into town to shop for a new hat from the milliner’s. Or maybe two new hats, unless y’all are having a double ceremony, which makes more sense, after all. So, what’s it gonna be?”

The creaking of Granny’s rocker was the only sound that could be heard except for the slight breeze that played about the porch. Forks were frozen in midair, chewing stopped, and it seemed that a time for reckoning had come.

Caleb choked on his pie, trying to control his mirth, and Greta looked from Jess to Zach while Cora stared at her pie like it was baked rattlesnake.

Jess cleared his throat as his neck turned red. He ran a finger around the top of his starched collar, then threw a warning look at Caleb. “Granny . . . you’ll be the first to know when the dates are set, which will be very soon,” he said, patting Cora’s arm.

“Just as long as you get on with the purpose of why Zach dragged these two fine ladies way out here to Central City. I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to see great-grandchildren before the good Lord calls me home.”

Caleb clamped a hand over his mouth this time to keep from chuckling at everyone’s expense. Greta was speechless and left it to Jess and Zach to respond.

“You’re not going anywhere, Granny—you’re as fit as a fiddle and you know it!” Zach remarked, taking a huge bite of pie.

“You never know, son. You never know.” She turned to Greta. “Jess told me that you’re going to sew for Agnes. I hope you’re not intending on using that old sewing machine at the mercantile. That bobbin is a thorn in the flesh. It never worked properly.”

“Jess is right. I’m going to attempt to make her a dress for her barbecue, but I haven’t had a chance to look at the shop’s sewing machine yet.”

“I have an answer for that too! You can borrow mine for a time. It’s a gen-u-ine Singer and runs as smooth as a top.”

“Why, that would really help. Thank you, Granny.” Greta smiled back at the older lady. Even with Granny’s outspokenness, Greta could tell her heart was in the right place where her family was concerned. She enjoyed being able to call the older lady Granny, since she’d never known her own grandmother.

“If you’re finished with your pie, Jess, why don’t you go get my sewing machine from the parlor and strap it on the wagon for Greta?”

Jess hopped up in a hurry. “Sure thing, Granny.” He handed Cora his empty plate. “Caleb, come give me a hand,” he said as he moved to the screen door. Caleb handed his dish to Greta, but not before taking the last bite, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

Zach shifted on the top step, laying his empty plate aside. “I’m going for a walk. Anyone want to come along?”

“I’d enjoy a walk.” Cora sprang up. “Let me help carry these dishes to the kitchen.”

Granny waved her off. “Greta and I’ll collect them. Go on ahead. The sun will be going down soon.”

Greta thought Granny had more or less pushed Cora and Zach down the porch steps and out into the yard.
Did she get the same feeling as I have?
she wondered.

After putting the dishes in the sink to soak, Greta left Granny to give instructions to Jess and Caleb on the sewing machine. She decided to take a stroll and enjoy the first free time she’d had in a while. She relished the feeling in the air and the discernible smell of autumn as she strolled underneath the towering spruce and pine, taking deep breaths. She watched a couple of chipmunks scurry away from their perch on an outcropping of rocks and heard a Steller’s jay’s loud squawk from atop a pine branch. Reaching the end of the trail where the forest opened up, she saw familiar faces in the clearing but paused in her tracks, not wishing to disturb the couple.

She saw Zach pull Cora close, encircling her waist, while Cora put her arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed her long and slow, almost as if drinking an elixir that seemed to satisfy a deep thirst within him, and Cora returned his fervent kisses.

A small cry escaped Greta’s lips, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand and turned away. Once out of their hearing, she ran the opposite way of Granny’s, sobbing, when suddenly she fell to her knees on the rocky, uneven ground. A sharp pain pierced her ankle. So Zach really did think of her as just a pretty face . . . but Cora? How could she? Yet in her heart she knew that it was more her pride that was wounded, not that she was jealous. And if she were honest, she was relieved. Now there would be no more pretense.

Blinking away her tears, she rubbed her ankle to ease the pain and looked around. Here the forest opened up to a summer meadow. Over the small rise, something emerged from the ground. Tombstones? Was this the Gifford family cemetery? She struggled with her tangled dress and pulled herself up, limping her way to the headstones. It was indeed the family cemetery! The graves of Jess’s parents were side by side, and behind them was Granny’s husband’s grave, with a plot next to it that would eventually be where Granny was laid to rest.

Then another gravestone caught her eye, more weatherworn than the others. It bore an Army insignia and was decorated with a hand-stitched American flag. Bending closer to read the name inscribed, she felt her heart slam hard against her ribs.

Sergeant Bryan Gifford

United States Army

May 1867–August 1887

Fort Bridger, Wyoming

Greta dropped beside the tombstone, stunned. Her trembling fingers ran over the stone’s smooth surface and Bryan’s name in reverence, her emotions running high. An ache filled her being, and she felt faint. Everything fell into place now—he was Jess and Zach’s brother. That’s why Jess’s eyes and handwriting held an uncanny resemblance to Bryan’s. Why had Bryan never mentioned he had brothers in Colorado?

So that was why the Army private had delivered the message when Bryan died. The young man had repeated it several times for her. “Ma’am, Sergeant Gifford said, ‘There’s only one other man worth her love . . . my brother’—and then he passed.” Neither she nor the private had known he was referring to a
real
brother. Now she wondered, which brother had he meant—Jess or Zach?
Lord, help me!

She bent over, doubled up in agony, and cried for the loss of Bryan all over again. Now that she saw his grave, it became a reality she couldn’t push away any longer. She wasn’t aware of the passing of time until a movement behind her cast a long shadow over the tombstone.

20

Jess made sure Granny’s sewing machine was secured in the back of the wagon, then he set off to find the others. Somehow Granny had wrangled Caleb into helping her wash the dessert dishes. It’d be good for him.

Jess was proud of the way Caleb was working out at the mercantile. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for Caleb’s next rascally act.