Название: A Season of the Heart
Автор: Dorothy Clark
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
isbn: 9781472073259
isbn:
“Several children are going to speak Scripture verses at church for Christmas and I thought it would be nice if they wore suitable costumes.” Willa gave the cradle a gentle rock and went to stand beside the settee. “I asked for donations of material to make the costumes, and this pile is the result.”
“You’re going to make the costumes?” She lifted her skirt hems higher to warm her feet.
“Yes. Agnes was going to help me sew them, but her aunt took sick and she’s gone to stay with her. Callie would help, of course, but she and Ezra have gone to visit his sister for the holiday—and Sadie has to watch over Grandfather and Grandmother Townsend. All the others I’ve asked have no time.”
Ellen swept her gaze over the narrowed blue-green eyes and slightly pursed lips that Willa always wore when she was considering something. Surely she wasn’t— No. She misunderstood Willa’s intent. No one ever asked her for help. She laughed and stretched her feet out closer to the fire.
“There is something amusing?”
She shook her head and fluffed her curls. “Not really. It was only that, for a moment, I thought you were going to ask me to help you.”
“Would you, Ellen?”
“Would I help you?” She frowned. “Stop teasing, Willa. I get enough of that from Daniel.”
“I’m not teasing.” Willa took a breath, gave her an odd look. “I hate to ask it of you...truly. I know you don’t do such menial tasks, Ellen. But I have the costumes to make...and the church decorations. And our own Christmas to prepare for, as well. It’s our first as a family, and I want it to be wonderful for Joshua and Sally and Matthew. Mother has offered to help, of course, but she tends to hold the baby more than work.”
She stared at Willa, unable to fully believe that she was serious in her request. “Well, I—I’ll give it some thought. I have plans to make for Mr. Lodge’s and Mr. Cuthbert’s visits.”
“Oh, of course. Forgive me, I shouldn’t even have asked.”
A look of disappointment swept over Willa’s face. Guilt smote her. Well, what did Willa expect? She didn’t sew. Still, it was nice to be asked for help, she—
“Who is this Mr. Cuthbert you mentioned, Ellen?” Willa moved back to the fireplace, lifted a piece of split log out of the carrier on the hearth and put it on the fire. “I don’t believe I’ve heard you mention his name before.”
A soft sigh escaped her at the welcome question. She was back on safe ground now. “He’s been paying me court since last August. He approached me at a soiree given by the Halseys, said he was quite taken by my beauty and asked if he might call on me.”
“What of Mr. Lodge? I thought he was your beau?”
“He is.” She glanced at Willa and sat a little straighter. “You needn’t look disapproving. I’ve not given Mr. Lodge my promise. I’m still free to accept another suitor if one takes my fancy, and I find Mr. Cuthbert’s maturity attractive.”
“His maturity?” Willa’s brows rose. She hung the poker she was using on its hook and looked at her. “As in steadfast character or years?”
She lifted her chin. “Both.”
“I see.” Willa’s eyes narrowed on her. “If I remember correctly, Mr. Lodge is six years older than you, Ellen. How ‘mature’ is Mr. Cuthbert?”
“That is not important.” She rose and held her hands out to the fire to avoid meeting that penetrating gaze. Willa was only two years older but she’d always had the ability to make her want to squirm. “Mr. Cuthbert is a man of great distinction and social eminence, and I’m flattered by his attentions.”
“And he is as wealthy as Mr. Lodge.”
Judged and found guilty. The indictment was in Willa’s voice. She squared her shoulders. “Not quite.”
“Ellen! You have true affection for this man?”
She took a breath and turned. “I have admiration for him and his accomplishments. He is a personal friend of the governor and may become the next secretary of state—if the Senate approves Mr. Seward’s appointment of him. And then...who knows how far his abilities may take him? Perhaps even to our nation’s capital.” She smiled, waited for the gasp of disbelief, the look of envy that always accompanied her announcement.
“I see.” Willa’s gaze shifted to the cradle, then came back to rest on her. “And what of love, Ellen?”
The question brought the romantic young-girl dreams she had forsaken rushing back. A frisson of anger slipped through her, stiffened her spine. She should have guessed that would be Willa’s reaction. Willa had been preaching to her about love in marriage ever since she’d wed Matthew Calvert. And Callie was as bad since her marriage to Ezra Ryder. No doubt Sadie would be the same. The fire crackled. Ellen took a breath and turned back to gaze down into the flickering fire. Seeing Daniel again made those romantic dreams all too real. But she was no longer a hero-worshipping child. She was a woman with a purpose. “What about love, Willa? You, of all people, know that love can be fickle.”
“Not true love, Ellen.”
Enough! She would not be belittled because she chose to follow her head instead of her heart. “And how does one know the difference?” She threw a challenging glance over her shoulder. “You and your mother were both deceived. I prefer not to take that chance.” She looked back at the flames devouring the wood, the way poverty turned love into ashes. “Mother told me love is simply an emotion that will trap you in a log cabin with a husband who spends his time trying to earn enough to provide food and shelter for you and the children that come of such a union. She was not interested in that menial sort of life. That’s why she married Father. And she’s never regretted her decision.”
She lifted her chin, turned and faced Willa again. “I’m not interested in that sort of drudgery either, Willa. I mean to have every advantage—and both Mr. Lodge and Mr. Cuthbert can provide them. And both have spoken for my hand. That’s why I’ve come home. I have to decide which man will best serve my plans. As for love—” she gave an eloquent little shrug “—I’m certain a fondness between me and the man I choose to marry will develop over the years. And if not...” She looked at the happiness glowing in Willa’s eyes and caught her breath at a sudden empty feeling inside. Daniel’s crooked grin appeared before her, enticing her. Foolishness. Daniel was nothing but a friend from her childhood. A teamster with nothing to call his own. She blinked the image away and ran her hands over the rich fabric of her gown. “If not...I will have the finest of everything to take its place.”
“Whoa.” Camp had never looked so good. Daniel draped the reins over the edge of the wood seat, jumped off and trudged to the back of the pung’s low wood box. A quick swipe of his gloved hand cleared the mounded flakes off of the molasses keg and he hoisted it to his shoulder. Bits of clinging snow fell off the keg against his neck, sent a shiver chasing down his back. He ignored the chill and searched for the neck of the burlap bag, took hold and pulled it free.
The pigs milling around the kitchen door waiting for the cook to throw out the leavings from СКАЧАТЬ