Beauty for Ashes (15 page)

Henry focused his gaze on the shelf of books behind her. “I’m leaving Hickory Ridge.”

She stared at him, thunderstruck. “Leaving? But how can . . . why?”

“Sage Whiting says the railroad companies in Chicago are hiring men to work in the train yards, unloading freight. He says it’s worth a try.” Henry’s voice cracked. “Easy for him to tell me to go, since he’s kept his job for now.”

“Then Mariah won’t have to leave Hickory Ridge.” As worried as she was about Henry’s going, she felt relieved that she wouldn’t lose her friend too. Even if Mariah had made herself scarce lately. “I will miss you every single day, but maybe it’s for the best. Mary Stanhope doesn’t know the first thing about running a farm. And you know how she covets fancy dresses and pretty things.”

He nodded and sent her a rueful smile.

“Her aspirations are too big for a place like Hickory Ridge. Just the other day she told me how hard she’s working to make sure her boys get on in the world. I know you hate the thought of moving away, but they’ll have many more opportunities in Chicago.”

Henry rose and began to pace. “Have I been a good brother to you, Carrie?”

“What kind of a question is that? If you hadn’t taken care of me after Mama and Daddy died, there’s no telling what would have become of me. And when Frank was killed—”

“I need your help.”

“I’m not sure how I can help in this situation, but—”

“As much as I want to, I can’t take Mary and the boys with me. There isn’t enough money for four of us to travel all that way, and even if I could afford the train tickets, where would we live?” His shoulders sagged. “Besides, it could take as long as a month to get hired—if I get hired at all. Hundreds of men are competing for the same chance. I need you to come home, Carrie. To help Mary and look after the farm.”

Her stomach clenched. “Move back and live under the same roof with her and those rude boys of hers? You saw how they treated me, and you didn’t do much to defend me.”

“We got off to a rocky start, all right, but Mary is sorry for everything. She told me so herself.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s sorry. Sorry that she’s going to have to stop acting like the Queen of Persia and actually get her hands dirty keeping the farm going.”

“It may be only for a few weeks. If I don’t get the job—”

“Henry, please. I’m not ungrateful for all you did for me when we were children. I’d do most anything for you, in fact. But I have a life of my own now. True, I live at the Verandah, but it isn’t so bad once you get used to it. I get along with the other residents. Mrs. Whitcomb is almost like the mother I never really had. And . . . well, I’ve decided I’ve put Nate off long enough. As soon as he gets back from his trip, I’m setting a date for our wedding.”

His eyes widened. “Are you? I’m glad of that. Nate is a good man. But you’ve waited years to marry. Can’t you wait awhile longer?”

“I’ve only recently realized that Nate and I are perilously close to passing the prime of our lives. Every day that goes by is time we can never get back. I’ve spent all this time putting off my future, wondering whether something better might be around the next corner. But now—”

“You’re refusing me. After all I’ve done for you, you’re too busy with your own life to help your only blood kin when he needs it the most.”

“You make me sound cruel and uncaring.”

He clenched his jaw. “How else would you describe it?”

“Henry, if there is anything else I can do, anything at all, I will do it gladly. But—”

“You don’t have to say anything else. I understand.” He went to the door.

She followed him. “Please don’t go away angry with me. I can’t bear it.”

“I’m not angry.” He jammed his hat onto his head and wrenched the door open. “I’m disappointed.”

Tears rolled down her face. Already her heart ached with grief for the loss of the vital bond that had existed between them. “I’m sorry.”

“Congratulations on your forthcoming wedding. I hope you and Nate will be very happy.”

“You will come to the ceremony?”

“Not likely. I’m leaving soon as I can find somebody to help Mary with the farm. Good-bye, Carrie Lou.”

She watched through the window as Henry climbed onto his wagon and drove away. At the same instant, Griff Rutledge emerged from the mercantile, his arms laden with packages, and started up the street.

Despite her sadness at losing Henry, the sight of Griff made Carrie’s nerves jump. Watching his purposeful strides as he headed for the Hickory Ridge Inn, she felt the odd quivering in her insides returning. Something about him made her feel alive, excited, filled with possibility. She started after him, then chastised herself and sat down again. She was about to marry Nate. These inexplicable feelings for Griff simply would not do.

Finally she put on her hat, took up her keys again, and locked the shop. Regardless of Griff Rutledge’s unsettling effect upon her emotions, her mind was made up. She was through with waiting for perfection. She’d settle down in Hickory Ridge with Nate. Forget all about the horse trainer, his soulful eyes and charming smile, and the way he made her feel.

TWELVE

Following the pungent scent of boiling cabbage and the rattle of silverware, Carrie headed to the kitchen. Mrs. Whitcomb stood over a bubbling pot, steam fogging her spectacles.

“Carrie. Looks like it’s just you and me for supper tonight,” she said. “Pull up a chair.”

Carrie swept aside a deck of Rosaleen’s cards and sat. “Where is everybody?”

“Rachel got a letter from her husband in North Carolina. He found a job—finally—and has sent for her. She tore out of here like the place was on fire.”

“I don’t blame her. They’ve been apart a long time.”

“Too long. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I don’t think so. Even the best of marriages can come undone when people are apart too long.” Mrs. Whitcomb ladled the cabbage into bowls and pulled a pan of cornbread from the oven. “Anyway, Rachel went down to Jeanne Pruitt’s dress shop to pick out a new traveling dress, and Rosaleen went with her. They’re going to the bakery later to buy a cake to celebrate.”

Carrie picked up her spoon. “That’s odd. When I passed the dress shop just now, I could have sworn the place was dark.”

Mrs. Whitcomb sat down and dipped a piece of cornbread into the soupy cabbage. “Maybe Rachel and Rosaleen are already at the bakery. Personally I hope they bring a peach pie instead of cake. I love peach pie, and the season’s almost over. It’s Lucy’s favorite too.”

Carrie tasted the cabbage and wrinkled her nose. Bland as dirt. If only she’d had time to bake a pan of biscuits or a blackberry pie. She reached for the pepper and shook a generous amount into her bowl. “Where is Lucy tonight?”

“At a meeting down at the town church. They’re talking about the Christmas pageant.”

“I miss having the pageant at our church. It’s one of the things that makes Christmas real to me.”

Mrs. Whitcomb buttered another piece of cornbread. “Remember the year Mrs. Lowell’s orphans sang carols? That was the year it snowed knee-deep to a tall Indian.”

Carrie grinned. “I remember. Wyatt Caldwell proposed to Ada that night on a sleigh ride to the top of Hickory Ridge. Can you imagine anything more romantic?”

“Wyatt Caldwell always had a flair for the dramatic. He was very lucky it snowed enough to get that sleigh of his out. I always felt the Lord himself had a hand in that.” Mrs. Whitcomb chewed and swallowed. “I sure do miss having him around town.”

“I miss Ada something awful.” Carrie gave up on the cabbage and pushed her bowl away. “I doubt she and Wyatt can make another trip for a wedding so soon after Henry’s.”

Mrs. Whitcomb grinned. “You’re getting married at last? Are you fooling me, girl?”

“I’m serious. Nate has been after me forever to set a date, and I’ve decided it’s time.”

“Oh?” The hotelier’s brow went up. “I don’t suppose your decision had anything to do with the amount of time he’s spent hanging around here, talking to Rosaleen.”

The niggling thought that Nate was getting too friendly with Rosaleen had in fact crossed Carrie’s mind, but she refused to give it any credence. “Rosaleen is not Nate’s kind of woman.”

An explosion of laughter escaped Mrs. Whitcomb’s lips. “If that’s what you think, you’ve got a lot to learn about men.”

“Aunt Maisy?” Lucy called. “Anybody home?”

“In the kitchen.” Mrs. Whitcomb hove to her feet to serve up another bowl of cabbage.

Lucy came in, frowning. “For mercy’s sake. Cabbage
again
? Hello, Carrie.”

“Maybe you’d rather waste a dollar and have dinner at the inn,” her aunt said.

Lucy tossed her hat onto the back of her chair and plopped down. “Yes, I would love that, but every dollar I save brings me that much closer to my Jake and Montana.” She took a bite of cabbage and made a show of swallowing it. “I’m eating this cabbage for a good cause.”

Between bites, Lucy filled them in on plans for the Christmas pageant. “Reverend Patterson is asking Mariah Whiting to play the piano again this year.” She picked up the pepper shaker and doctored her bowl of cabbage. “That is, if the Whitings are still in town by Christmas. Mr. Patterson said the mill owners let most of the men go last week, but they kept Sage on for now.”

The cabbage sat like lead in Carrie’s stomach at the reminder of Henry’s plight and her refusal to move back to the farm. She walked over to the slop pail and dumped her bowl of cabbage into it. “I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”

“Don’t you want to wait and see what Rachel and Rosaleen bring from the bakery?” Mrs. Whitcomb peered out the window. “They should be here any minute.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Go on to bed,” Lucy said, waving her spoon at Carrie. “If what they bring is any good, I’ll save you some.”

In her room, Carrie got ready for bed and opened her Bible, but the words blurred on the page. Guilt and confusion knotted her stomach. Was she wrong to want happiness for herself? Wrong to marry Nate when she felt something—she wasn’t certain just what—for Griff Rutledge? Her attraction to him made no sense at all. They were practically strangers, and he was merely passing through. What was the point of wanting what could never be hers?

Griff led his hired horse into the livery and handed the reins to the proprietor, a skinny fellow with a scraggly beard and piercing black eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Tanner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Rutledge.” Tanner spat a stream of tobacco juice into the street. “Will you be wantin’ her again tomorrow?”

“I expect so.” He nodded toward the chestnut mare. “You might check her left back foot. She seemed to be favoring it some on the way home today. Shoe might be a little loose.”

Tanner nodded, scratched his belly, and jerked his thumb toward the front of the livery. “Didja see my new sign?”

Griff leaned back to read it. “Excelsior Stable, H. Tanner, Prop. Horses, Buggies, Hacks, and Harnesses for sale or rent. Horses boarded by the month, day, or single feed. Hack, horses, and Careful Driver available at rates to suit the times. That’s quite some sign, Mr. Tanner.”

Griff grinned. “That’s quite some sign, Mr. Tanner.”

Tanner spat again. “Charlie Blevins over at the mill made it for me. Cost me an arm and a leg, but I figgered it might be worth advertisin’, with folks coming into Hickory Ridge for Race Day.”

“Let’s hope for a good turnout.”

“How’s the trainin’ going?” Tanner removed the mare’s bit and saddle and led her into a stall. “That black colt of Mr. Gilman’s sure is a beauty.”

Griff nodded. “He is. He’s a challenge, though. Some days he spooks easily, and others he thinks he’s in charge.”

“You’ll get that notion out of his head,” Tanner said. “Folks say you’re the best horse trainer in the country.”

“I’ve my share of successes.” Griff touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Leaving the livery, he jogged across the street and headed for the inn. Exhausted and grimy after a long day with Majestic, he looked forward to a bath and a hot supper. He pushed open the door and crossed the carpeted lobby to retrieve his room key.

The clerk handed him the key and a couple of letters and inclined his head toward the sitting area just off the lobby. “A visitor for you, Mr. Rutledge. He’s been here most all day. I offered to send somebody out to Gilman’s to get you, but he said he’d just as soon wait.”