Where the Heart Leads (4 page)

“I try.”

And then they were laughing and the entire world disappeared—the rain, the wind, the thunder—all of it. There was only the wild beat of his heart slamming against his chest and the quiet hope soft in her eyes.

Oh, he wanted to be that hope for her. To give her every last one of her dreams.

He leaned in without thinking, following the whispers of his heart. Her eyes widened with realization as he moved in but she didn’t move away. Then their mouths were touching, his lips caressing hers in the gentlest of kisses.

Did she feel the reverence he felt for her? The adoration? He sure hoped so.

And then he felt her lips relax against his, softening in acquiescence, and he took her in his arms, kissing her without ever wanting to stop. Her hands lighted on his shoulders, such a sweet touch—

“Gabe?” Josslyn poked her head up into the loft, shattering his thoughts. She climbed up and headed his way. “Leigh almost has supper ready. That’s one stubborn girl you’ve got there. She refused to let me help. Just shoved me right out of the kitchen.”

“Yes. I think she may have gotten her stubbornness from our side of the family, especially from you.”

“I do have a gift.” Joss shook her head, her gaze darting out into the storm. “Interesting. You have a perfect view of Aumaleigh’s house.”

“I’m watching the storm.” It was easier to admit that than the truth. It had been hard seeing how much Aumaleigh disliked him. It had been clear and stark in her eyes.

Which was a problem. Because the love he’d had for her had never completely died.

Aumaleigh held up her wine goblet in the McPhee Mansion’s stately dining room and smiled at all the lovely faces surrounding her at the supper table. They had grown to be quite a crowd. “To Seth and Rose. May you two have a life of dreams.”

“And infinite happiness.” Iris raised her wine glass.

“Happily-ever-after,” Daisy added, lifting her glass.

“A storybook life,” Magnolia chimed in, giving her wine a sip.

“And a fairy tale love.” Verbena lifted her wine goblet full of milk to finish the toast. “Welcome to the family, Seth.”

As “welcomes” rang out and wine glasses clanked, Aumaleigh noticed that Daisy took only a small celebratory sip of her wine before setting it down. Her plate was largely untouched, and she looked unusually pale. Was the girl just tired? Or perhaps it was something more?

Aumaleigh remembered when Laura, the girls’ mother, was pregnant with Daisy, she’d had evening instead of morning sickness.

“I’m going to bring out dessert.” Iris rose and began taking the plates from the little girls seated beside her. “Sally and Sadie. Do you want chocolate cake?”

“Yes!” Sally answered. “And Mitsy too!”

“And Bitsy too!” Hailie gave a sweet, little girl smile and leaned against her stepmother, Daisy.

“I know that baby dragons like chocolate cake.” Aumaleigh stood and began gathering plates too. “But do they like chocolate frosting too?”

“Yes!” the little girls chorused.

“Especially with the frosting flowers,” Sally added, crooking one eyebrow hopefully.

“You’re in luck.” Iris brushed a kiss on the top of the girl’s head as she moved past. “We made all kinds of frosting flowers.”

“Oh goody! Mitsy is delighted!”

While the men at the table talked horses and ranch business, and the girls hopped up to run around the dining room with their imaginary dragons (guarded over by Sheriff Sadie), Aumaleigh headed into the kitchen. Her footsteps felt light and her heart full as she set the plates on the counter. She loved seeing how joyful her nieces were these days. “Rose, are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I’m nervous. Verbena and Daisy, were you nervous too?” Rose lifted the cake cover to reveal a chocolate marvel of frosting and colorful rose frosting flowers.

“Was I!” Daisy grabbed a pile of dessert plates from the cupboard. “But it was a happy-nervous.”

“Excited-nervous.” Verbena counted out dessert forks from the drawer.

The clink of plates, the rattle of silverware and the melody of conversation grabbed Aumaleigh, bringing up a memory she’d thought long forgotten. Images flashed through her mind, carrying her back in time to when she was young.

“Aumaleigh, are you going to see Gabe again?” Josslyn whispered as she swished over in her ruffled apron, carrying a pie fresh from the oven.

The apple and cinnamon scent filled Mother’s kitchen, and her stomach rumbled.

“He asked me out again for Sunday.” She stopped slicing onions and blinked. Her eyes were burning. Whew, those onions were strong. “I can’t believe it. He’s taken me out twice and he hasn’t changed his mind about me. Yet.”

“Why would he?” Josslyn set the pie on the cooling rack and backtracked to the oven where more were waiting. “You’re gorgeous. You’re adorable. You’re fun—”

“Now you’re just making things up.” Aumaleigh’s cheeks heated. Honestly, she was terribly uncomfortable with praise. Compliments always made her feel unworthy because she knew they weren’t true. “I don’t know why he’s still interested. There could be something really wrong with him. Do mental afflictions run in your family?”

“Funny, but no.” Josslyn added another pie to the rack. “Gabe is as solid and as sensible as a man gets.”

“Hmm. If a mental disorder doesn’t explain it, then I’m doomed.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because one day Gabe will take a good look at me and think, what am I doing with her?” She set down her knife. Her eyes were stinging so bad from the onion fumes, she had to wipe the tears on her sleeve. “I was actually hoping the mental thing would work in my favor.”

“Don’t even try and fool me. Gabriel is lucky to have you and he knows it.” Josslyn shut the oven door and stopped talking the instant Cook looked across the large kitchen in their direction.

“What are you two doing?” The short, rotund woman scowled at them with her rat-like eyes. “If I catch you one more time, I’ll tell Maureen and you both will pay dearly. No more talking. That’s the rule.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Josslyn needed the job and nodded contritely. Only Aumaleigh recognized the proud jut of her jaw. In her head, Josslyn must have plenty of sass she’d like to give to Cook.

Footsteps rounded the corner, pounding into the room with military precision. Aumaleigh’s spine went straight, she took one final sniff and grabbed her knife.

But not quick enough.

“Aumaleigh!” Her mother, Maureen McPhee, charged into the kitchen, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Don’t even try and deny it. I heard what Cook said.”

Aumaleigh’s face turned hot. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m not behind on my work.”

“That’s not the point.” Maureen stormed to a stop at the work table, staring down her nose at the half diced onion. “You need to concentrate. How many times must I tell you? Work is the only thing you’re good for, and you’ve got to get better at it. What will happen to you when I die?”

“Oh, Mother, please don’t talk about dying.” Her chest tightened. She didn’t want to think of her mother gone. “Please go sit back down. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“With those onion-y fingers? I think not.” Maureen glanced around, as if pleased to notice all the kitchen workers in the big farm kitchen had ceased their work and turned to watch another installment of the McPhee family drama. “The problem with you is that you never think, Aumaleigh. You’re never considerate. Here I am, just trying to help you with your future. Do you think any man is going to want a girl like you?”

Yes. The treacherous word caught on her tongue. Her heart ached, thinking of Gabriel. Her mother must never know, so she bowed her head, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. “No.”

“That’s right. A man wants a lovely and refined wife, not a mess of a girl like you. Look at those onions. You call that finely diced? Cook, make sure Aumaleigh stays through her supper, practicing until she can chop an onion correctly.”

Aumaleigh’s hand shook as she gripped the knife, angry words filling her head. Her vision blurred as she sliced the onion, listening to Maureen’s heels tapping a cheerful rhythm on her way from the room.

“You’ve got to stand up for yourself, Aumaleigh.” Josslyn whispered after everyone had turned back to their work. “You can’t let your parents control your life.”

“—isn’t that right, Aumaleigh?” Rose’s voice broke into her thoughts, stealing her away from the memory and that miserable time in her young life. She blinked, realizing all five of her nieces were staring at her as if waiting for an answer.

“I, uh—” She had no clue what to say. “Sorry, my mind drifted.”

“That’s the way it looked,” Magnolia reassured her, holding a plate as Rose set a slice of chocolate cake on it. “You had to be a thousand miles away.”

“And a few decades.” Aumaleigh felt foolish. The past was gone. Why was she letting it grab hold of her again? Her regrets were over and done with. “What’s the question?”

“It’s me.” Dottie lifted her shoulders in a self-conscious shrug. “Do you want me to leave in the morning so you all can get ready? I don’t want to be in the way, and I’m not part of the family. You probably just want to be alone, and I completely understand.”

The dear girl twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger, looking painfully nervous.

“No way are you walking anywhere. Or riding, for that matter.” Aumaleigh lifted the tea kettle from the stove and poured steaming water into the teapot Iris had prepared. “I’m sure the girls will agree with me.”

“Oh, we do.” Rose spoke up, shaking the cake cutter for emphasis and a blob of frosting fell off.

Magnolia scooped it off the edge of the plate with her finger and popped it into her mouth, thinking no one was looking.

“You’ll help me get the girls ready,” Aumaleigh decided. “Come to think of it, you probably haven’t had time to get a nice dress for the wedding. You only just moved in and started managing the bakery.”

“I was going to wear what I already have. Ma always said it’s good enough for me.” Dottie shrugged self-consciously.

Aumaleigh winced. She had way too much experience with critical mothers. “Let’s see. You’re about the same height as Rose. After we’re done demolishing the cake, let’s go through her closet. I bet we can find a dress to fit you.”

“Oh, no! That wouldn’t be right.” Dottie blushed bright red. “I’m fine, really I am. I couldn’t wear someone else’s dress. What if I spilled something on it? I might ruin it. I can be very clumsy.”

“I have that green dress that would look perfect with Dottie’s coloring.” Rose cut a final piece of cake and slipped it onto a dessert plate for Dottie. “It’s decided. Dottie, you have to wear it. I’m the bride and you can’t disappoint me. It’s a territorial law, I’m sure of it. You have to do what I say.”

“Not to mention that we’re your employers,” Iris pointed out, handing Dottie a fork. “Let us do this for you. You have to get ready with us.”

“And I’ll do your hair,” Verbena volunteered.

“Wait! Our shoes are about the same size,” Magnolia hopped over to Dottie to compare feet. “I have some cute shoes that would look great with that green dress.”

“Poor Dottie,” Daisy sympathized. “She’s going to be McPhee’d whether she likes it or not.”

“Maybe she’ll learn to love being one of us.” Aumaleigh watched with fondness as the girls led the way out of the kitchen, carrying plates of cake for everyone. She snatched up the teapot, hanging back.

The memories in this house didn’t seem to bother her anymore. The years she’d spent here taking care of her mother seemed distant. Guilt had kept her here, but love had too. She had to be honest about that.

However you looked at it, love wasn’t easy. Families were complicated. Life wasn’t fairytale perfect. Not even close.

But life could surprise you.

Aumaleigh whirled around, remembering to grab the honey jar. Laughter and conversation rang in the other room, echoing around her on the walls of the kitchen. Smiling, she listened to the sounds of the little girls running and playing, their shoes knelling merrily on the hardwood floor. The men’s deep conversation paused while the women handed out cake, only to resume again once they had forks in hand. The women talked of dresses and how Dottie should wear her hair tomorrow.

The back door opened and Oscar slipped in with an armload of wood.

“Don’t tell them I’m here,” he whispered. “Just wanting to get everything ready for Rose’s big day tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Oscar.” She nodded in agreement and in gratitude before slipping into the dining room.

This was the happiest she’d ever been. She savored every moment. With teapot in hand, she refilled cups, stopped to pet imaginary Mitsy and finally sat down with her nieces and Dottie. What an exciting evening, and tomorrow was Rose’s wedding day.