Wishing on Buttercups (29 page)

A waitress stopped by their table. “What can I get for you folks?”

Beth touched the rim of the cup sitting on a saucer. “Tea, please.”

Brent nodded. “I’ll have black coffee and a slice of your rhubarb pie. How about you, Beth? Something sweet to go with your tea?”

“No, but thank you just the same.”

The waitress returned and set the coffee and pie in front of Brent, then filled Beth’s cup with tea.

As the woman walked away, Beth took a sip of her tea. “Tell me about this new business venture.”

“It’s a chance to invest in a new mine. I stand to make a large sum of money. In fact, it would give me the start I’ve needed and enable me to take care of you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I wasn’t going to do this yet, Beth, but I can’t help myself.” He gripped her hand across the table. “I love you and want to marry you. I want to care for you the rest of our lives.” He hesitated and dipped his head. “There’s one small problem.”

She withdrew her hand and sat back, tucking it in her lap. Apprehension jolted her at Brent’s declaration. “And what problem would that be?”

He mustered a smile. “Is something wrong?”

Everything stilled inside her.

“Wait.”

For what? She wasn’t sure, but she remained quiet, trying to listen for that familiar inner voice.

“Beth?” Urgency filled his voice.

Glasses clinked at a nearby table, reminding her they weren’t alone. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I would like to understand what you are saying. It didn’t quite sound like a proposal, somehow. Not if there’s a problem attached.”

His mouth drew down in a frown. “Of course it’s a proposal. I said I love you. Don’t you believe me?”

In the past Beth would have nodded and given her heartfelt assurance, but not today. There was a distinct hesitation inside and that continuing sense she needed to wait. “Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you first?”

Brent leaned back with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I suppose I understand your caution, since I hinted at a problem. I should have left that until later and simply asked you to marry me.”

She gave a short nod. “Now go ahead and explain.”

“This investment is a once-in-a-lifetime prospect, and the owner is pressing me to put the money down fast, or he’ll move on to the next investor.”

“How fast does he expect it?”

“In two weeks.” His gaze dropped.

“I see.”

“Beth?” His lips thinned. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. Discouragement and shame covered Brent’s face. Was it possible she’d misjudged him? “Please go ahead.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want anything to come between us.”

She furrowed her brow. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t want to lose you. No amount of money is worth that to me.”

A chair scraped across the wood floor at the nearby table, and a man rose, helping a woman to her feet. Beth focused back on the matter at hand. “I don’t understand.”

He sat back and stroked his chin. “I don’t have enough money. I poured everything into my mother’s debts. It’s only a matter of time until I am back on my feet. If this offer had come six months from now, it wouldn’t be a problem. As it is …” He shrugged and spread his hands.

“You don’t have enough.” Beth nodded, understanding dawning. He hoped she could help. Or maybe her aunt. “Were you expecting me to ask Aunt Wilma for a loan?”

He winced. “Never. But I thought … never mind.”

“What? Brent, be honest with me. Quit talking in circles.”

“Fine.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You’re twenty years old. I assume you’ll come into money when you turn twenty-one. I hoped you might borrow against that and loan me the money. It wouldn’t take long for me to pay you back.” Brent paused. “And, of course, if we marry soon, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I see.” A chill descended over her, and she shivered.

“Wait.”

There was that internal caution again. She wasn’t any closer to understanding than she had been the first time she’d heard it, but heeding it would be wise. “You said you have two weeks?”

“Yes. I need to give the man an answer.”

“I will pray about it.” Beth reached for her reticule and slipped the loop over her wrist. “It’s getting late. I should be going.”

His face fell. “Pray about it? Why?”

Surprise encompassed her. Why had she never realized they hadn’t discussed God or Brent’s relationship with Him? She’d assumed he was a Christian, as he’d attended a church in Topeka. But the more she saw of life, the more she realized church attendance meant little. Brent had never talked about faith in God. “It will help me decide the right path to take. Don’t you ever pray?”

Annoyance darkened his countenance. “I’ve never seen it do much good or why it matters. When you marry me, I’d think you’d want me to succeed.”

Beth lifted her chin. “I beg your pardon, but it matters very much to me. And I didn’t say I would marry you.”

Contrition softened his features, and he reached for her hand again, but she yanked it away. “I spoke without thinking. Take all the time you need. I understand if you want to pray about it.” His eyes searched hers. “But you can trust me. I love you, and I’d never do anything to harm you.”

“I didn’t say you would. I’m not sure why you’d speak so, Brent.” The root of suspicion expanded.

His attention darted around the room. “No reason at all. I suppose I’m nervous, wanting you to say yes to my proposal. You understand, don’t you?”

“Which proposal? For my hand in marriage, or for my money?” She leveled him with a steady gaze. He had no way of knowing she had no inheritance, but she did have a tidy amount put away from the sale of her illustrations, with more coming. “What if I were to tell you I have no inheritance? Would you still want to marry me?”

His face paled. “I told you the money doesn’t matter.”

Beth plucked her shawl off the back of her chair. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow at the same time. Good day, Brent.” She didn’t look back as she walked from the room.

One thing loomed in her mind—his request for money. Brent’s lips had tightened when she’d asked if he’d still love her if she were poor. Jeffery wouldn’t care if she were a beggar on the street. Then why did she keep pulling away whenever he tried to draw near? It was too much to sort out, and at the moment she wanted to get to the bottom of what Brent was after and why.

God would lead her in the right direction. Relief swept through her that she hadn’t allowed Brent to pressure her into anything. Maybe she was growing up, at last.

Wilma pushed her chair away from the breakfast table. “Thank you for the wonderful meal, Katherine. I’m so glad you’re feeling better, but be sure you let me know if there’s anything more Beth and I can do to help.”

Beth nodded. “I’d be happy to do whatever you need.”

Katherine braced one hand against the door lintel and tugged on Lucy’s braid. “I’ve got a good helper who promised to do the dishes this morning since it’s Saturday and there’s no school. Thanks for offering, but we’ll get along fine.”

Mandy snuggled against her mother’s other side. “I’ll help too, Ma. I want you to rest so the baby doesn’t get too tired.”

Lucy tweaked the little girl’s nose. “Silly. The baby is what’s making Ma tired, not the other way around.”

Mandy scrunched her nose. “Nuh-uh. Babies can’t make a big person tired; they’re just little people.”

Katherine rolled her eyes and sighed. “Come on, girls. If you start bickering, I’ll leave all the work to you and go climb into bed.”

Frances put her arm around her granddaughter. “Come, Amanda. You and I will heat water on the stove while Lucy clears the table.” She turned toward Wilma. “Would you care to have tea later this morning and visit? It feels like a long time since we chatted.”

Wilma glanced at Beth disappearing from the room and frowned. The girl had been slipping out of the house more frequently lately, and the last two times Jeffery had been home, so she couldn’t be meeting him. Her niece hadn’t been forthcoming, and now that she thought about it, she’d seemed somewhat evasive. Something felt off, and she needed to ferret out the trouble.

She stepped closer to Frances and lowered her voice. “I’d love tea, but I have a bit of sleuthing to do first.”

Frances’s eyes gleamed. “Can I be of assistance?”

Wilma’s gaze traveled the length of her friend’s gown to her feet. “I wish you could, but I’m afraid it involves walking to town.”

“My feet and ankles have been quite strong lately, and I would not mind taking a walk, if you care to include me.”

Wilma gave a grim smile and nodded. “I’ll help Lucy clear the table while you get the water going. Between the two of us we can have the kitchen put back to rights in no time.”

Jeffery stepped in front of Beth as she stopped at the bottom of the staircase. “I think we need to talk, Beth. About what happened the other day in the parlor.”

She stepped around him. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time now. I’m headed to town.”

He touched her arm, and she stilled. “Please. I want to apologize for my behavior.”

Beth raised her eyes, then swung quickly away. “There’s no reason. Let it go, Jeffery.”

“But I acted like a cad and took advantage of you. I must have frightened you, and I’m afraid I ruined our friendship. You’ve barely spoken to me since.”

“No. You didn’t frighten me at all.” Her hand went to her throat, and she clutched the locket that always hung there. “I … I don’t care to discuss it now, if you don’t mind.”

“Later, perhaps?”

“Perhaps. Now, forgive me, but I have an appointment and must go.” Beth moved away, then turned. “I’d hate to lose your friendship, Jeffery, truly I would.” Color rose in her cheeks. “And, to be honest, you didn’t offend or upset me at all. In fact …” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. But there are things I haven’t told you.…”

Relief surged through him. The kiss hadn’t made her angry. Maybe there was hope after all. Then he remembered those last words.
There are things I haven’t told you.
He tensed. “Is it that Wentworth man you’ve been meeting in town?”

She blinked two or three times. “I beg your pardon?”

Jeffery gripped her arm. “You were with him a week or so ago. I’ve seen you with him before. Is he your beau, or something more serious? I don’t trust him, and I think you need to stay away from him.”

Beth gave a gentle tug, and her eyes saddened. “I must go, Jeffery. I’m sorry.” She spun away, the click of her heels fading as she hurried down the hall.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Beth wasn’t sure if she could make it all the way to town without breaking down. Had she done the right thing, leaving the house and not responding to Jeffery? She couldn’t respond to him, or what had happened in the parlor, until she settled things once and for all with Brent.

She’d been confident in the trust that seemed to be growing between herself and Jeffery, as well as their mutual love for literature and art. But he didn’t have the right to demand answers about Brent. It wasn’t like Jeffery had openly declared his intentions, even if he had kissed her. Then why was it so hard to put Jeffery out of her mind?

It didn’t matter; it would be over soon. She wouldn’t give Brent money, no matter how much he declared his devotion. She pulled her linen shawl closer around her as a wagon rolled past. Beth glanced at the sky. Blue, almost to the horizon, but clouds that looked like mounds of white confectioner’s candy peeked above the mountains.

She loved the slower pace of Baker City and enjoyed her friends at the boardinghouse. Beth had never wanted to put down roots or make deep friendships in this town—until now. Was it because of Jeffery or her new success with her art?

Dodging around pedestrians and horses, Beth lifted the hem of her burgundy gown and stepped onto the boardwalk, making her way to the restaurant.

She peeked through the door and spied the table where she and Brent usually sat. Empty. He was late … again. It didn’t matter; he’d probably be along shortly. A waitress motioned her toward the table, and she breathed a short prayer.
Protect me from any mistakes, Lord. Help me to follow Your perfect will.