Wishing on Buttercups (34 page)

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Authors: Miralee Ferrell

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Christian, #Romance, #Western, #Oregon, #Love, #Adoption, #Artist

BOOK: Wishing on Buttercups
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Steven’s face fell. “I was hoping she might live here, and I could meet her.”

Jeffery shook his head. “A letter will have to do.” Uncertainty twisted his gut, but he held firm. He needed to investigate this man and his mother before he allowed this to go any further. Beth had been deeply hurt once already. The last thing she needed right now was two people posing as long-lost relatives hoping to latch onto money they might envision as a result of her prominent placement on the magazine cover. Harding didn’t seem like that sort, but according to Mrs. Roberts, Wentworth had fooled her at first meeting as well.

Steven placed his cup on the table. “Shall I bring it by your boardinghouse tomorrow before I leave town?”

“No.” Jeffery gave a decisive shake of his head. “I’ll come by the bank if that’s convenient.”

“Fine. I leave on the morning stage. Meet me at half-past eight.”

 

Beth peered at the watch pinned to the front of her dress. Nine thirty. She’d been up for three hours already and had gotten some much-needed work done on a new illustration before she’d attended breakfast. After the meal, Jeffery had agreed to meet her in the parlor at nine o’clock, and she’d already waited for thirty minutes. She gathered her skirts. Maybe trusting Jeffery was a bad idea.

A light patter of footsteps sounded along the hall and Mandy entered, tugging Mark Tucker’s hand. Beth hid a smile. She hadn’t envisioned Jeffery’s father as someone to spend time with a young child, but since he’d arrived, Katherine’s young daughter had been very much in evidence, and he didn’t seem the least perturbed.

Mandy slowed to a halt and grinned, her wide smile showing a space where her front teeth used to be. “Mr. Tucker is going to read me a book.” She tipped her head to the side. “Do you want to listen?”

The man in question ruffled Mandy’s hair. “We don’t want to disturb you, Miss Roberts. Maybe we should wait for another time, or we can take the book to the dining room if you’d prefer.”

“Certainly not. You are more than welcome to stay. I was waiting for …” She clamped down on her lip, wondering how much to say.

Mr. Tucker gave a sage nod. “My son. Earlier he mentioned running to town. He told me he was meeting someone and hoped it wouldn’t take too long. Is he late?”

“I’m afraid so.” Beth relaxed against the sofa cushions. So Jeffery had told his father where he was going. Maybe he did have a good reason for the delay. “I’ll wait a little longer, if the two of you don’t mind my listening in. What are you reading?”

Mandy ran over to a bookshelf and pointed. “
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
.” She stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t quite reach the volume.

Mr. Tucker stopped beside her. “Allow me, Amanda.” He plucked the book from its place and handed it to her with a flourish.

She giggled and hugged it to her chest. “I love this book. Come on, Mr. Tucker.”

He obediently followed her to the sofa, and Mandy curled up beside him as he spread the volume across his lap.

Beth watched the scene unfold.
How fascinating.
From the little Jeffery had said about this man, she’d expected him to be cross, but other than pressing Jeffery to return home, he’d appeared quite pleasant. She leaned her head back, allowing the words to flow over her and enjoying the smooth cadence of the voice that reminded her so much of his son’s.

“Father?” Jeffery’s voice interrupted her reverie, and she sat up. He stood in the doorway, his expression curious as he looked from the duo to Beth and back again. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” His gaze swung her way. “I hope you’ll forgive me for being tardy.” A shadow seemed to darken his eyes. “It was unavoidable.”

Beth straightened her sleeves, making certain her wrists were covered. “The time has flown. I’ve enjoyed listening to your father.”

Mark Tucker closed the book. “Amanda, do you mind if we finish this another time? I think Miss Roberts and Mr. Jeffery had an appointment, and we don’t want to interfere.”

Jeffery nodded gratefully. “Thank you, sir. That is, if you really don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Amanda and I will go to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Jacobs can spare a cup of tea.” He rose and held out his hand. “Would you care for some tea, Miss Galloway?”

Mandy giggled and slipped her hand in his. “Yes, sir. I love tea parties.”

Mr. Tucker set the book back on the shelf and directed his attention to Jeffery. “I hope you can find time for me a little later. I’d like to talk to you concerning an idea that might be of benefit to Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs.” He turned and nodded to Beth. “Miss Roberts, you’re welcome to sit in on our reading anytime.”

“Thank you.” Beth smiled as they left the room. “Your father can be quite charming.”

He sank into a chair. “I had no idea. I remember him reading to my sisters when they were young, but …” He ran his hand over his hair and glanced at the doorway. “It’s been a while since I was home, and this doesn’t fit the picture I’ve had of him.”

Beth settled against the soft cushions, wondering at the confusion so evident on Jeffery’s face. What she’d give to have a parent who cared enough to go halfway across the continent to see her and attempt to persuade her to return home. A pang of apprehension hit her. Mr. Tucker was a decent man, and it seemed Jeffery’s eyes were getting opened more every day. “And what picture did you have of your father?”

“A man intent on getting his own way, whatever the cost.” His forehead wrinkled. “He was so adamant about me going back to Ohio when he first arrived, but lately …” He shook his head. “I don’t know, but something is different. In fact, I believe it started when you accompanied us to supper the other night.”

Beth smiled. “I can’t imagine that could be true. He didn’t speak to me much, and I got the impression he was upset I’d come along.”

“I wondered at the time, but now I’m not so sure. Did he reveal anything before I came in about why he wants to speak to me? He mentioned Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs.”

“Not at all. Do you think he’s considering extending his time here?” Beth’s heartbeat quickened. If Mr. Tucker decided to remain in town for a time, he might come to like it and quit urging Jeffery to go with him. She repositioned herself on the sofa and tucked a pillow under her elbow. “Were you able to take care of your business in town?”

Jeffery’s face smoothed, but she thought she caught a glimpse of … something.

 

Jeffery flicked at a piece of lint on his trousers. “Yes, I suppose so. There was someone I needed to see before he left town.” The letter Steven Harding had given him at the stage station lodged like a boulder over his heart, pressing in and making small rivulets of sweat run down his back. He had promised to give it to her, but the matter of whether it would hurt or help her weighed on his mind.

Beth leaned forward. “Jeffery.”

“Hmm?” His glance darted to hers, then edged away. “Sorry. I guess I’m a bit distracted.”

“What’s wrong? Is it anything I said?”

His attention centered squarely on her. “No. Of course not. I’ve been trying to sort through a knotty problem.” Was this the right time? What if Harding was a fake, and she were hurt again? He didn’t want to be a part of that happening. If only he had time to investigate the man before he handed over the letter. But would she forgive him if he kept it a secret, and it turned out Harding was telling the truth?

“Is there a way I might help? Are you concerned about your story?” She laced her fingers together in her lap.

Jeffery brought his thoughts back to the woman sitting across from him. The letter could wait. He’d distressed her and needed to make it right. “It
has
been on my mind lately. Now that I’ve finished the first book, I’m trying to work out all the details for the second.”

The lines in her face smoothed out. “Ah, I see. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I read the first three chapters.”

Delight drove out the last lingering vestiges of worry. “What did you think? Please be completely frank, and don’t try to spare my feelings.”

Her face sobered, and Jeffery experienced a moment of dread. Had he misjudged Beth’s initial reaction? He straightened his shoulders.

“I think”—she cocked her head and a smile peeked out—“that your book will be a bestseller one day. As much as I determined not to like it when you acquainted the household with the idea, I must admit I was captivated. The characters drew me in immediately. Of course, I don’t have a strong sense of the story line yet, but enough to know I shall enjoy it immensely, as I’m sure anyone shall who reads it.”

He released the breath he held. “How very kind. Thank you.”

She shook her head. “I am not being kind. My words were honest, as you asked. So you see, you don’t need to be troubled.”

A lump formed in Jeffery’s throat, and he swallowed. He couldn’t deceive her, couldn’t allow her to think the book was his only concern. Lately he’d been trying to pray, working to develop a personal relationship with God. Somehow he didn’t think keeping the letter a secret would further that relationship. “Thank you, but that wasn’t what has me distracted.” He stared at his hands laced between his knees, then lifted his eyes. “I’m not sure how to tell you what’s bothering me, other than to come right out and say it. I pray it will bring you peace and not added distress.”

 

Every thought in Beth’s mind halted as she absorbed Jeffery’s words. Had he received word from their editor about her work not being satisfactory? But if that were the case, he wouldn’t think it could bring her peace. She tried to shake the disjointed thoughts. “Has something happened with your story? Are they unhappy with my illustrations?” She focused on his face, determined to catch even the slightest hesitation.

“No, no. Nothing like that at all.” He plunged ahead. “It happens to be a bit more personal.”

Curiosity swarmed Beth’s thoughts like a hive of bees getting ready for winter. “I can’t imagine …” She peered at Jeffery’s firmly clamped jaw. “Please. Tell me.”

Jeffery scooted his chair closer to the sofa. “The reason I was late …” He licked his lips as though trying to find the courage to continue. “The man I met in town claims he might be your brother.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Wilma stopped on the path to the house and placed a kiss on Caleb’s cheek. “You are a wonderful man. I do hope you know that.”

He slipped his arm around her. “I may forget that on a regular basis and need to be reminded, especially if that reminder comes with an accompanying kiss.”

She settled her head against his shoulder and sighed. Why had she assumed for so many years that love would never find her again? Caleb hadn’t asked her to marry him in so many words, but he’d been hinting so strongly she knew it was coming. “Thank you for all you’ve done to try to help me find Beth’s family—or, at least, to discover what might have happened to her so many years ago. It means a lot to have your support and understanding.”

Caleb drew her onto the boardinghouse porch. “As much as I’m enjoying this time together, we probably should go in. I don’t want to tarnish your reputation, should anyone happen to look out the window.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “If you were to allow me to make an announcement …”

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