The Proper Wife. Winnie Griggs
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to moisten his unaccountably dry throat.
Miss Lassiter appeared not to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. She was staring at one of the windows, her head cocked to the side. “Sounds like the rain’s coming down even harder now. Good thing we picked those berries when we did. We may be in for a long afternoon.”
Eli merely nodded. No point in adding to her worries. Fact was, even if the rain stopped in the next few minutes, he had no idea how in the world they were going to get around that fallen tree. His only hope right now was that they’d be missed before long and someone would be out looking for them.
“Did you tell Danny you were planning to come out here?” He kept his tone casual.
“Not specifically. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
So much for that idea. No one would know where to look even if they realized the two of them were missing. Miss Lassiter had definitely not thought things through this morning.
“You might as well sit,” he said. “There’s plenty of room here.”
She shook her head. “My skirts are soaked.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sitting would be uncomfortable right now. I thought I’d stand in front of the fire for just a bit to try to speed the drying process.”
Which was sensible but it put him in the position of lounging on the floor while she remained standing. He wasn’t doing very well in the gentleman department.
They ate in silence for a while, Eli trying hard not to stare at her bare feet and trim ankles peeking out from the hem of her skirt.
An explosive sneeze, quickly followed by a second, jerked his gaze up to her face. “Are you okay?” Had she caught a chill?
But she dismissed his worries. “I’m fine. I think it’s just all the dust we kicked up when we were cleaning earlier.”
Eli grabbed the jug of cider. “Would you care for some of this?”
She nodded and set the core of the pear in the fireplace. Wiping her hands on her gown with the indifference of a child, she took the proffered cider.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to drink straight from the jug—I didn’t see any drinking glasses.”
The caveat didn’t seem to bother her. “I’ll manage.”
As Miss Lassiter drank, Eli studied her closely for other signs that she might be taking ill, but she seemed remarkably robust.
After a couple of deep swallows, she absently handed the jug back to him while she studied the room. “I wonder what kind of history this place has. I mean, I know it’s not much to look at today, but now that we’ve cleaned it up a bit, I can picture how it might have looked back when it was new. It would have made a cozy little home for some farmer and his wife.”
Eli looked around skeptically. Even though it was mid-afternoon, the dark-lidded sky and semi-shuttered windows left the one room cabin in shadow except for the area here by the fireplace. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture this place as anything but a hovel.
“Whatever its history, apparently it didn’t suit,” he said diplomatically. “It appears to have been abandoned for some time.”
“Yes, but aren’t you at all curious about why? Maybe there was some great tragedy, where the farmer or his wife died and the one left behind could no longer bear to be here. Or maybe they headed farther west looking for adventure. Or maybe the farmer who lived here married a woman who preferred life in a big city.” She had a faraway, dreamy look. “There are so many stories a place like this could tell.”
What in the world was she going on about? “Speculating over such things seems like a pointless exercise.”
She studied him as if he had somehow disappointed her. “Don’t you like imagining things? I mean, don’t you ever do things like make up stories to tell Penny?”
He shifted, feeling her opinion of him had just dropped a few points. “I read to her from time to time.” It was hard to keep the defensiveness from his tone.
“Not quite the same, but it’s a start.”
A start? A start on what?
She bent down and scooped up some of the berries. “I think my back is dry enough.” She fanned her skirt out with her free hand. “Time to dry the front.” And with that she turned to face the fire.
Eli placed his palms behind him on the blanket and leaned back as he studied her back. She was definitely a puzzle to him. How could a woman be so sensible one moment and so fanciful the next? And why was Penny so taken with her? His half sister had been so quiet and withdrawn since the tragedy. But around Miss Lassiter she seemed more lighthearted than she had since he’d assumed guardianship.
Truth be known, while he’d hoped it was just a matter of giving Penny time to grieve, he’d worried that she’d been permanently scarred by everything that had happened. Yet she seemed to really come alive around Miss Lassiter. And while he was relieved to see the old Penny come back, he couldn’t help but be curious as to the reason.
He studied the coiled tendrils that had escaped his companion’s pins, listened to her soft humming as she held her skirt out to the fire. And wondered again if perhaps he’d misjudged her.
Sadie studied the flames as she absently munched on the berries. How very sad and lonely to live without the occasional daydream, without letting the imagination have reign from time to time. Had he always been that way? Or had something in his life hardened him? Maybe he just needed someone to teach him how.
For Penny’s sake, of course.
She wiped her hands together as she finished the berries. Her skirts were still damp, but they were dry enough to sit now.
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