Love Blooms in Winter Page 12

  “Dressing a bull.”

  She had dressed a bull. She must have been out with Lil last night. Why hadn’t that been his first guess?

  “You’re coming home with me for dinner.”

  “Ma’am, I have a lot to do—”

  “Hush. Kin eat together on Sundays. I won’t take no for an answer.” She warmly smiled up at him. “I’ve fixed a nice big meat loaf.”

  Her face and hands were clean, but glancing down at her bloody, dirty attire and recalling how much of a disaster her house was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.

  Sixteen

  After Sunday dinner, Mae stood next to Tom at the entrance to Pauline’s shed and watched Jeremy scoop slop from the feed barrel. Dogs and cats scrambled to get their share of food.

  This was the second Sunday Jake had excused himself from dinner. Jake didn’t work on Sundays. Mae was starting to think he was pouting.

  Crossing his arms, Tom leaned against the doorway. “Mae, why didn’t you tell me Dale was the town pastor?”

  “Um…you didn’t ask.” She picked up two water buckets and carried them over to the rain barrel.

  He turned and fell into step with her. “I have one more question.”

  “And that would be?” She set the buckets down and turned toward him. Flashes of distant lightning lit the black line of clouds moving in from the west. The storm was probably hours away, but it looked as though they were in for several more inches of snow.

  “How does a man preach like that when he hasn’t said a word to me this whole week?”

  “Well, he’s quiet when he’s not in the pulpit. I hope he hasn’t stepped on a nerve.”

  Quiet? He was a smoking pistol. And maybe Dale did step on a nerve or two, but Tom wasn’t going to tell Mae that. He didn’t want her to think he was weak. Lifting his hat, he recalled the blistering warnings. Every word the man had said was true. He’d brought home the thought that a person either lived his belief or he needed to ask himself if his faith was lip service only.

  Thunder interrupted Tom’s musings, and he glanced at the darkening sky. Thunder snow didn’t happen often, but when it did the snowfall was guaranteed to be heavier than normal. He had been hoping bad weather would hold off until after the supplies arrived. The cleanup would take several days under good conditions, and the situation would be difficult without nature causing problems and delays. If the supplies arrived on time, there was a chance the temporary track could be laid by the end of the week. That would be cutting his self-imposed deadline close, but he had a decent crew, and he knew the men would work hard to get the train back up and running on schedule.

  He broke through the ice of the rain barrel so Mae could dip water, his eyes skimming over her head to the lay of Pauline’s land. Mostly flat. Good drainage. The river was a decent distance away, so flooding would be minimal when the snow began to melt.

  His gaze shifted to the other end of the street to the train station, the lowest point in town. Pauline’s place would have made an ideal location. The station sat on uneven, swampy ground, and he’d bet that during the spring thaw, or when it rained, the platform was even more of a sinkhole than normal. Mae’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Did you enjoy the service?”

  His mind returned to Dale. The man was something behind the pulpit. “Can’t say that I did.”

  She turned, surprised. “Why not? We’re very proud of our pastor.”

  “He knows his Bible, that’s for sure. I just don’t like to take a verbal horsewhipping when the time comes I decide to worship God in His own house.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, he can get loud. He’s been ‘called,’ you know.”

  Loud? Tom’s ears were still ringing. He wasn’t deaf; at least, not prior to the sermon. He didn’t want to talk about his morning in church, so he changed the subject. “I’m guessing that you and your lady friend—”

  “Lil.”

  “Yes. Lil—and Pauline, from her own admission and the looks of her robe—dressed that bull last night.”

  Setting the full water buckets at her feet, Mae paused to rest against the barrel. “I didn’t get home until the wee hours of the morning.”

  “You were out that late butchering that thing?” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you come get me? I didn’t know Lil would ask for your help.”

  “When Lil came looking for me last night and wanted me to help her dress that bull, I actually planned to give you a piece of my mind this morning. I was plenty put out at the time, but later I realized you had been quite generous to give the meat to Lil to do with what she wanted, so I had no cause to complain. Besides, your hands are full.”

  She shoved a lock of hair away from her flushed face. His gaze focused on her, and he had no desire to look at anything else until he realized she sensed his overly long inspection. He cleared his throat. “I appreciate the thought, but if any more dead livestock turn up, let me handle the disposal. However, I’m glad Lil got the meat.”

  A bit of red tinged the tips of her ears, and he wondered if she felt improper chatting with him. If so, he didn’t share the concern. The third finger of her left hand didn’t wear a ring, yet she seemed embarrassed about something.

  “I…I’ve been meaning to apologize to you for my harsh words,” she said quietly.

  “When was that?” He couldn’t recall her speaking an unkind word. Quite the opposite. She appeared to go out of her way not to step on his toes while still treating everyone else in her sweet, caring way.

  “Yesterday, when you said you were leaving. I was completely out of line to question your decision, and I want you to know I’ll do everything to ease your inconvenience while the rail is being repaired. Often these things turn out to be blessings instead of misfortunes. Perhaps the good Lord is allowing us more time to find someone to help Pauline.”

  Her remark took him by surprise. Accustomed to dealing with hard-nosed clients, he wasn’t comfortable with her concession. Sympathetic. Considerate. Mae Wilkey was a charming puzzle. Her compassion numbed his suspicions that he was being taken for a ride by her, which in the light of the past week, and the town’s complete acceptance of his presence, appeared even more cockeyed.

  “Thank you, Mae. I appreciate your understanding my position in this matter.” And that was the plain truth; a smitten schoolboy’s honesty. “But I want you to know that, however this turns out, I’ll see to Pauline’s care. You have my word.” He’d just as soon kept his plans to himself, but he’d known from the moment he’d laid eyes on the elderly woman that she was no longer alone in the world. It wasn’t because of any great need to help. He wouldn’t get another good night’s sleep knowing that if nothing else he could offer financial assistance.

  “Thank you.”

  There was sadness in her voice, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Was she content with her situation? After six years, he’d think an independent woman like Mae would take the hint that the man she hoped to marry was running from commitment. She didn’t appear to be prone to bury her head in the sand when a problem presented itself, except maybe where Jake was concerned. “What do you ladies plan to do with the beef?”

  Frowning, Mae fished in her coat pocket and took out a handkerchief to lightly wipe her nose. “We’re not sure. It was one of the biggest bulls I’ve ever seen. We have meat running out of our ears. Hank Latimer has a bit of room in his ice house, but it won’t hold it all. Lil said she knows some folks in the hills who can use some, and everyone in town can have a share. If another dead animal pops up, I don’t know what we’ll do with it.”

  He studied the approaching storm front. “Sundays appear to be pretty slow in Dwadlo.” He nodded toward the empty church. “Does Dale hold evening services?”

  “No,” she admitted, flashing an impish grin. “I don’t think folks could absorb that much guilt in one day.”

  “Looks like bad weather’s going to be here before dark.”

  She turned toward the
ominous-looking clouds. “Sure does.”

  “Do you favor parties?”

  “Parties?” Her eyes lit up. “I haven’t been to a party since the Fourth of July. Dwadlo always celebrates the Independence Day with watermelon, fried chicken—”

  He interrupted her. “What if Fisk and I got a good fire going over at the livery and roasted that extra beef? Pretty women shouldn’t spend all of Sunday working.”

  Jeremy’s voice rose above the barking animals. “A party!”

  Tom grinned and caught Mae’s eye. “You said you liked parties.”

  “But a party on the Sabbath?” Doubt replaced her earlier enthusiasm. “And what about the accident…it would seem sacrilegious to hold a party after such a disaster.”

  “Nobody was seriously hurt. And even if we had planned to work today, the weather would stop us from doing much. Besides, I think the people of this town could use a good outing to lift their spirits. If party is too strong of a word, we’ll call it a church supper.” He saw the glow return to her cheeks.

  “A church supper. Why, it’s the perfect solution, Tom. The extra meat shouldn’t go to waste.”

  Studying the sky again, he said, “I figure we have enough time to stoke that fire and cook the meat before the storm moves in.” He called over his shoulder. “Jeremy?”

  The teen appeared in the shed doorway. “Yes, sir?”

  “I need a man to do a man’s job.”

  A wide grin spread across the boy’s features. “Yes, sir!”

  “Go tell everyone in the town that there’s going to be a meal at the church this afternoon. Tell them to be there around four and to bring anything but beef.” He winked at Mae. “We have beef coming out our ears.” Jeremy darted around him and ran down the road, followed by a dozen yapping dogs.

  Tom trailed Mae into the shed, where she poured fresh water into three containers. “What’s with all the wire and posts?”

  “Pauline is trying to build a fence to contain the animals. They’ve outgrown the shed.”

  “She’s building it?”

  Empting the last bucket, Mae sighed. “She thinks she is, but she’ll need help. I tried to talk her out of the idea when she burst into the store last week and asked for wire, posts, and nails.”

  “She can’t build a pen large enough to hold all of her animals without help, and for the next little while every available man will be laying track.”

  “I told her she couldn’t, and you know what she said? ‘Hollyhock. I’ve built many a chicken coop on my own.’ Then she shot for the nail barrel, filled a large sack, and headed for the door. She said she’d have Jeremy carry the posts and wire for her. The last thing I heard her yell as she left was ‘Put it on my bill!’” Mae shook her head. “Your aunt certainly has a strong will.”

  The word “aunt” still got under his skin. Shifting, he crossed his arms. “I’ll send a couple of men to build the pen as soon as I can spare them.”

  “Thank you. As I’ve said before, you’re a good man, Tom Curtis.”

  She straightened and their eyes met. He wanted to ignore the sudden lurch in his stomach, but he was a man and she was a very attractive woman. Still focused on each other, he said, “Will you talk to her and make sure she understands that she can’t wear women’s—”

  “Lingerie in church?” she finished with a nod. “I’m so sorry about its condition. She followed Lil and me last night. She wanted to help, but she ruined her lovely new robe. I was horrified when I saw her wear it to services. I’ll speak to her immediately about her inappropriate dress in public.”

  “It was a little…embarrassing.” He frowned. “Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?”

  “Somewhat. I never dreamt that she would mistake the garment for suitable Sunday attire.”

  His tone turned teasing. “I thought you might be too busy looking at your intended to notice what she was wearing.”

  A lovely red color instantly covered her cheeks, but her eyes remained fixed on his. “Don’t be silly. Of course I noticed. That’s why I asked you to take her out of the church.” She glanced away, changing the subject. “I also noticed that you went home to Sunday dinner with her.”

  “You noticed that?”

  She shrugged. “You didn’t seem overly eager.” She bit back a grin.

  “Did it show that much?”

  She nodded. “I know Pauline makes meat loaf on Sunday, and I believe I’ve heard you mention that you don’t…um… care for meat loaf.”

  “Was that what I ate?” He shook his head. “She said it was meat loaf, but whatever I had didn’t resemble anything I’ve ever eaten before.”

  “Pauline gets creative when she cooks.”

  He didn’t want to think of the implications that could imply. Thunder rolled in the distance. “I’d better get started on that beef.”

  “I’ll bring some dessert and cornbread. What’s your favorite kind of pie?”

  “Peach.”

  She paused. “Mine too. Jake doesn’t like peach. It gives him dyspepsia.”

  Jake gave him heartburn, but Tom couldn’t pinpoint why. The man was friendly enough. Perhaps a little too possessive of Mae, but then Tom supposed Jake had good reason to protect his interests. His eyes lightly skimmed her trim figure. He’d do the same.

  “Peach it is. I have a couple of jars in my pantry.”

  Nodding, he tipped his hat. “Sounds good.”

  Sounded too good, he decided when he reached down to unlatch a couple of mutts from his ankles. He tripped over a short spaniel who wouldn’t give up.

  Dwadlo’s postmistress was starting to look way too good to him in light of the fact that she belonged to another man. His gaze focused on her as she crossed the field leading to her house. Way too good.

  Seventeen

  By four o’clock buggies lined the churchyard, tops up under the threatening sky. Men, women, and children streamed into the church carrying covered dishes. The room was soon filled with mouthwatering aromas.

  Just before leaving her temporary quarters at the store, Mae took a passing peek in the mirror. She’d changed into her best dark blue wool dress and had tied a lemon-colored ribbon in her hair. Funny how she didn’t take the time anymore to do the same for Jake, but their courtship was so informal now that she didn’t bother.

  He, on the other hand, always dressed for prestige and privilege. His tailored suits fit impeccably. His shirts were the newest fashion with stiff collar points, vests just so, and his trousers were exactly a fourth of an inch from the top of his polished square-toed shoes. Recently, he’d discarded the bow tie he customarily wore for a narrow bit of material with a knot at the top he referred to as a “four-in-hand.” Mae knew, though, that he wasn’t dressing for her. He dressed for business. She often felt underdressed and dowdy when she was beside him. Did she make him feel less of an important man with her sensible dress and understated preference for fashion?

  “Oh, Mae, your hair’s pretty. I like your bow.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” She glanced up at her tall little brother. “You look mighty handsome yourself.” A blush rose to his cheeks as she walked over to give him a hug. He was so special. “Let’s get the food we’re taking and head for the part—supper.”

  By the time they reached the church, Mae’s festive mood was infectious. Laughter mingled with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. She and Jeremy walked over to the food table and set their pies, cornbread, and pickled beets next to the other dishes. Easing the peach pie to the back, she lightly drew a napkin over it, praying it would go unnoticed until Tom spotted it. And Jake. She’d baked Jake’s favorite, custard. She’d even taken extra care to add additional eggs and the vanilla she’d purchased from a traveling salesman, who vowed there wasn’t a better bottle of flavoring to be found.

  News of the gathering had obviously reached Lil. She showed up a few minutes later bearing an overflowing plate of fried pork rinds. Men’s eyes lit up like small children’s at Christmas. The Fou
rth of July had come to Dwadlo early this year.

  A man scooped potato salad on his plate. “Shore sorry about that bull, Stewart.”

  The farmer lifted a burgeoning plate and grinned. “Sorry I had to lose him, but I’m ten dollars richer and gained a whale of a supper outta him.”

  Tom listened as talk turned to how they were going to move the locomotive, passenger, and wooden cars. He’d learned Dawdlo had one old ox that was on its last leg. It would take a full morning to round up enough animals to move the heavy loads.

  Fisk approached, chewing on a piece of T-bone. “Lil has an elephant.”

  Tom turned to face him. “She has a what?”

  “An elephant.” Fisk licked the bone dry. “Circus train came through a couple of years ago. The old bull elephant they had took real sick, and they had to either dispose of him or leave him behind here in Dwadlo. They had about decided to shoot him, but Lil stepped in and claimed him before Pauline could.”

  Tom couldn’t believe his ears. An elephant! Pulling at his collar, sweat broke across his forehead in the warm room. An elephant. God was good—Pauline wasn’t the one who had acquired the thing. “Where does she keep it?”

  “She built it a mighty fine shelter. Heated and all. She nursed him back to health, and he took a liking to her. He’s harmless.”

  “Elephants are wild animals, Fisk. They can turn on you.”

  “Shoot, Tom. Lil rides that ol’ thing for fun when she takes a notion. Esau can do the job.”

  “Esau?”

  “The elephant. He can move your locomotive.”

  “I don’t know.” Tom had never been around an elephant, and he wasn’t sure this was the right time to get to know one. Using oxen, horses, and mules had to be safer than having some gigantic pachyderm wandering around. What if the animal went out of control?

  “Well, you can talk to her about it. She’s over there jawing with a bunch of the other women.”

  Fisk moseyed on, licking his fingers. Tom couldn’t help wondering why the blacksmith apparently didn’t fear the elephant. Could it be possible that the answer to his prayers had been delivered by a circus? He just hoped the whole project didn’t end up turning into a three-ring show.