Bittersweet (19 page)

“I’m needing a wee bit more, Laney.”

She held the can up to him. “There’s not much left.”

“Just enough.” He scooped out what remained with a chisel and worked it into place.

Ishmael chuckled. “Niver thought I’d be glad to be inside a church, but here I am.”

“You and Ivy are welcome to join us for worship any time.” Laney smiled at him. “Don’t you think she’d look beautiful in her new green dress sitting in a pew with the light shining through the windows you helped hang?”

“S’pose that might make somebody else perk up, but it ain’t ticklin’ me. My sis gotta be one of the purdiest gals in the world. Don’t make no difference what dress she gots on or whar she is.”

“I’m done here.” Galen cleaned off his hands with a damp rag, then set it across the handle of his wooden toolbox.

Laney stepped back and looked at the window. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“Nay, lass. I’ve ne’er seen anything half as lovely.” Something about his voice made Laney turn her attention to him. Galen wasn’t looking at the window.

He’s looking at me!

A slow smile lit his face. “Lovely beyond compare.”

Ruth bustled closer. “The children all have such sweet faces!” she exclaimed, gently touching her finger to the nose of one of the children in the glass.

Josh tapped a small brass plate below the window that bore the verse the artist based the window upon. He read it aloud. “‘Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Luke 18:16.”’

“That feller thar, sittin’ in the midst of that passel of kids, shore don’t look like he’s sufferin’ none.”

“Jesus loves children,” Josh explained. “That’s just an old-fashioned way of saying He wanted children to be allowed to be with Him.”

Galen continued to look at Laney. “You love children, too, don’t you, lass?”

She could scarcely believe this was happening. A man didn’t ask a woman questions like this unless … well, unless they were courting. Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

“Ma always said she would have gladly embraced a dozen babes if the Lord had seen fit to bless her with them.” Galen drew closer and dropped his voice. “Have you e’er thought on how many you’d wish for?”

Heat filled her cheeks and she whispered, “It’s in the Lord’s hands. I’d dearly love several, though.”

Galen grinned. “Fond as I am of children, I’d enjoy a houseful of them.”

“You got plenty of good food and a sound roof. Them kids’ll be lucky.”

Laney jumped at Ishmael’s voice. She’d completely forgotten anyone else was there.

Galen smiled. “Speaking of food, Ma sent along a picnic lunch. She remembered hearing Ethel at church Sunday, boasting about a new recipe.”

Ruth laughed. “Hilda did, too. She sent along lunch. We’re going to have enough to feed half the town.”

To Laney’s delight, Galen made a point of sitting beside her on the quilt out in the churchyard. “You’d better have more of an appetite than you usually do, Laney. Ma sent fried chicken and biscuits.”

“My favorites!”

He gave her a sly wink and pulled a jar from his basket. “Look here, will you. Ma sent apple-pear butter.”

“It’s a good thing we’re sharing baskets!” Ruth announced as she promptly swiped it from him. “Hilda’s been hiding ours from me.”

Laney and Galen looked at each other and started to laugh. Her heart overflowed with happiness.

“There you are.” Galen hoped Laney heard the pleasure resonating in his voice. Her smile made him think so.

“Here’s her parasol,” Sean said as he shoved it into Galen’s hand. “We’ll see you at home.” Sean swaggered toward the horses tethered to the next tree.

Normally, he rode to church in the back of the buckboard with Ma and Dale. But today Laney would be Galen’s Sunday supper guest. Her beautiful full skirts took up considerable space. And though Galen would far rather have Laney ride up on the seat beside him, he let Dale scramble into that spot. If he gave Ma a tiny bit of time on the trip home with Laney, then Galen could have her all to himself for a nice stroll after the meal. Galen opened Laney’s Sunday-best parasol and handed it to her. “M’lady.”

“Thank you.” She leaned a little closer. The refreshing, tangy scent of her lemon verbena wafted over him. “Aren’t we blessed to have such beautiful weather? I missed California’s sunshine when I was away at school.”

“Aye,” Ma said. “But keep using that parasol. You’re fair and the sun’s harsh.”

Galen didn’t bother to look at the creamy fabric contraption with swirling lace about the edges. He’d seen it countless times. He couldn’t get his fill of looking at Laney. “Aye, lass. You’re fair, indeed.”

A fetching blush filled Laney’s cheeks. “Thank you.”

They’d gone no more than a mile out of town when Dale scrambled over the seat and wiggled in beside Laney. Ma shot Galen a secretive smile. He grinned back.
Everyone loves Laney. In the
midst of my family—’tis where she belongs
.

“Ma’s making ham for lunch,” Dale said. “But don’t worry, Laney. It’s not from one of our pigs. When I take you to the sty, you can count to be sure.”

“I don’t need to count, Dale. We’re partners. I trust you.”

“Hortense and Mr. Snout trust us, too. That’s why they aren’t ham or bacon or pork chops.”

Immediately following lunch, Dale made a pest of himself. Ma had asked Sean and Colin to wash the dishes, so Dale invited himself to go along on the walk. To Galen’s dismay, Ma agreed. “Aye, our Dale. You take Laney over to see how well you’re caring for your pigs.”

I want to take my lass on a leisurely stroll. Alone. ’Tisn’t romantic in
the least to have a wee little brother tag along, and to stop by a reeking sty.
Instead of wooing Laney, I’ll be scaring the lass away!

“But once you’ve swilled the hogs, you come back home to me.” Ma smiled. “I’ve not forgotten how you and I each won a game of draughts this week. Today, I aim to play the third—and win it.”

Dale adamantly shook his head. “I’m gonna beat you, Ma. Just you wait and see!”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Galen winked at Ma. She’d had a plan all worked out.
Aye, and
I should have known. She loves my Laney so. ’Tis a joy to know the two
women I love get along so well
.

Galen’s gaze traveled back to Laney. Her smile had faded. Truth be told, she looked woefully sad.
Why? All this time, she’s
wanted me to court her. Now that I’m doing that, she’d rather have my pesky
little brother come along? It makes no sense
.

Once Dale showed off how well he’d been tending Hortense, he scampered back to the house. Galen dared to take Laney’s hand and thread it through his arm. That ought to let her know straight off that he’d come to his senses and cared for her. Perhaps she’d come to lunch today thinking ’twas more for little Dale’s happiness than a subtle foray into a carefully thought out wooing.

The way her lips parted showed her surprise. Galen didn’t say anything. Sometimes words got in the way. Best he show her his love. Words hadn’t ever been his strong suit. He looked deep into her eyes and smiled.

Her face lit up, and the corners of her mouth lifted.

They wandered past the fields. “Your father would be so proud of you, Galen. He already was, but to see how you’ve kept the farm so nice and the crops are thriving—it’s been difficult, but you’re more than equal to the task.”

“Thanks, Laney. I want to do Da proud. Ma and the boys need to see things are still safe and good. I don’t want them worrying about whether the harvest will be enough to cover our needs.”

“You’ve surpassed that goal. Farming’s a hard life. I look at other farmers, and they always look like they’re battling the earth and weather. You … you don’t. It’s as if …” A nervous laugh bubbled out of her.

“As if … ?”

“It might sound fanciful, but you work
with
your land, not
against
it. The way you tend it and coax it—how could it not yield gracious plenty?”

“Hard work isn’t all it takes, Laney. God’s been good to me. Nevertheless, I think of how the Bible talks of years of plenty and years of want. I’ll pray and work night and day to be sure my family’s got what they need.”
And I hope someday soon that will include
you
.

“There was a time before Josh married Ruth that he’d wondered about traveling east to enlist if there’s a war. The other day, he said he’d not go.”

Galen heard the unasked question in her voice. “I pledged to Da that I’d be here to care for Ma and raise up the boys. I’ve no doubt that the North and South will be battling. It’s a war that’s been long brewing and cannot help but come. Me? I’ll pray for those who fight, but I cannot forsake my vow and leave my family defenseless and in need.”

Laney’s strained look lessened but didn’t vanish. “Lester Pearson was boasting in the mercantile the other day that the war will last three weeks or less. He predicts the South will whup the Northern oppressors.”’

Galen smiled grimly. “Don’t forget how he says the South will ‘be eating on the White House lawn and drinking tea in Boston.”’

“I didn’t hear him say that. Probably because Mr. Darlden took exception to Lester’s opinion. He said the only thing the South might ‘whup the North’ at was a game of draughts.”

“Is that why you looked so sad when Ma mentioned draughts?”

She nodded. “Lester and Mr. Darlden used to be friends. Now they’re barely civil to one another.”

Galen nodded. “’Tis a sad thing when friends let a difference of opinion part them.”

“Politics, religion, and finances—the three things Mrs. Genevieve exhorted us all to avoid discussing. She was the headmistress at the finishing school.”

Galen nodded.

“I’m not sure why, but it seems to me those are the three things men discuss the most!”

“Some men.” He led her toward the edge of the path. “There are those of us whose favorite topics are God’s grace and our family.”

“I knew I liked you.” As soon as she spoke, she looked stricken.

Galen laughed. He pulled his arm free, stooped down, and picked a few pretty wildflowers. Standing, he gently put them in her hand. “And I like you, too.”

“Don’t make no sense, that Jesus feller jist lyin’ there and lettin’ ’em pound Him onto a cross.”

“He did it out of love,” Galen said.

The day they’d installed the stained glass windows in the church had done more than shed light into the church. It had brought to light Ishmael’s ignorance and staggering innocence when it came to spiritual matters. In the two weeks since then, Ishmael had asked about God every other day or so. Their conversations were startling. Things Galen grew up “knowing” and never questioned as well as other things he’d never thought about all cropped up.

“That don’t make sense. Only them disciple fellers treated Him good.”

“He did it for everyone; not just His followers.”

Ishmael shook his head. “Cain’t fathom that. Now for somebody special, I s’pose a buck could take the blame. If ’n ’twere for Ivy, I’d let ’em kill me.”

“Jesus said that very thing. He told His followers that regular people would lay down their lives for a loved one—but when we belong to God, we are to be different. We have to love one another and be willing to make sacrifices even for our enemies.”

Ishmael stopped working and stretched his back. “Whar I come from, a smart feller lets his enemies die off. Pa done taught me early on that a man’s gotta take care of hisself. Ain’t nobody else gonna.”

“As I said, Christians believe differently.”

Ishmael cracked his knuckles. “That Jesus of yourn—He shore had some addlepated notions.”

Galen accepted Ishmael’s opinion; it stood to reason that he’d consider something so contrary to human nature as illogical or foolish. “Christ urged us to love our neighbors as much as we love ourselves.”

“Well, you got yoreself some fine neighbors. Them McCains are nice as cain be. Liking them ain’t so hard for you.”

“We are blessed to have them as our friends and neighbors.” Galen waited half a beat, then went on, “But Jesus used a story to show us who our neighbors are.”