A Season of the Heart. Dorothy Clark
Читать онлайн книгу.
my husband—Mr. Lodge or Mr. Cuthbert.”
There was a soft gasp from the doorway. He shot Willa a look, then dipped his head to Ellen. “My felicitations. It must be hard to choose, with all that wealth involved.”
She gave him a cool smile with anger shadowing its edge. “And prestige. One mustn’t forget that.” She gave her skirts a sharp shake and bits of clinging snow fell off onto the warm stone hearth and melted into small dark blotches.
“Oh, I’m certain you won’t. Prestige and wealth. My, my, however will you choose?” He shook his head in mock gravity and watched the pools of moisture shrivel and dry up like the dream of marrying her he’d had years ago.
“That’s none of your concern.” She looked down at the infant in his arms. “Aren’t babies supposed to cry a lot?”
“Mary Elizabeth knows she’s safe with Daniel. Babies are very intuitive. And smart enough to follow what their hearts tell them.”
How could the swish of a skirt sound angry? Or maybe it was the decided edge in Willa’s voice. He jerked his gaze to Willa’s blue-green eyes—dark and shooting sparks. She had her dander up all right. “You are a proud mama, Pest.” He chuckled and stepped forward to stand between Willa and Ellen, blocking their view of one another. “Take the tiny one, Pest. I have to go. Doc will be through with his stitching by now.” He put his mouth close to Willa’s ear and hissed, “You don’t have to protect me, Pest. I was over her long ago. Remember your promise.” A quick glance in her eyes told him she would say no more; her tight-pressed lips said she didn’t like it. He winked, turned toward Ellen and made an exaggerated bow. “If you’ll excuse me, Musquash, some of us don’t have the luxury of sitting around idle.”
“Stop calling me that name!”
He grinned, turned his back on her furious face and headed for the kitchen to get his jacket and hat.
* * *
Ellen looked away from the unsettling expression on Willa’s face and watched Daniel stride from the room, irritated by the uncomfortable notion that she had missed something. Willa considered Daniel the brother she’d never had, which was understandable as they’d lived next door to one another all their lives, but it had bred a closeness between the two of them that was annoying at times.
The pile of worn clothes and pieces of fabric on the settee looked higher. She seized on the opportunity to talk about a neutral subject. “It looks as if you’ve gathered more material for making the costumes.” She lifted her skirt hems and stuck her right foot out closer to the fire to dry her damp stocking.
“Yes. Matthew brought more offerings home with him after his round of visits to sick parishioners yesterday.”
A long sigh followed Willa’s words. Ellen glanced over her shoulder. Willa was fingering the top garment, a look of frustration on her face.
Some of us don’t have the luxury of sitting around idle.
“Willa.” Her friend looked over at her. “You are always so efficient, I can’t believe you can’t manage to make the costumes, but if you need me—”
“I do, Ellen. Truly, I do.”
She lowered her gaze from Willa to the pile of fabric and tried to remember the last time she’d done any sewing. “All right, then. I’ll help you.” Doubt over her ability to do so rose with the declaration. Her face tightened. She shouldn’t have allowed Daniel’s words to goad her into offering to help.
“Oh, Ellen, truly? What of your preparations for your suitors’ visits?”
The perfect opportunity to back away from her offer without losing face! She drew breath to explain she wouldn’t be able to help after all and glanced up—there was such a hopeful look in Willa’s eyes. The recantation died unspoken. “Mr. Lodge and Mr. Cuthbert will be staying at the Sheffield House when they come. And Mother will arrange any entertainments. I have only to look fetching and be charming while they are here.” She brushed her hand down her skirt. “Not that I can manage that in this old green wool dress.”
“You don’t need fancy gowns to look beautiful, Ellen.”
She looked down at her dress, eyed the plain bodice and the long full skirt devoid of tucks or ruffles. “Thank you, my dear friend. But I’m afraid Mr. Lodge and Mr. Cuthbert would not share your opinion.”
“Then they do not deserve you.” Willa sank onto the settee next to the pile of old clothes. “I can’t thank you enough for offering to help me, Ellen. I’m sure I don’t know how I would have managed the costumes and the decorations and— The decorations.”
She stared at Willa’s aghast expression. “What decorations?”
“I forgot....” Willa rose, crossed the room and stood looking out of a snow-encrusted window.
“What have you forgotten?”
“To ask Daniel to make arrangements for the pine boughs. I’ll never have time to get the wreaths and swags finished now.” Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t leave the baby, and I can’t take her out in this weather to go and ask Grandfather Townsend if he will donate the branches. And Matthew is too busy to help me make the decorations even if he does.”
“Why, Willa! I’ve never heard you speak in such a discouraged way.” She stared at her friend’s dejected posture, uncomfortable in the position of comforter. She was always the one being cosseted. “Of course you will manage. You always do.”
“I’ve never been the wife of a pastor with two children and a new baby at Christmastime before.”
Willa’s defeated tone tugged at her heart. “Even so, everything will be all right. I’ll help with the decorations, as well.” Had she lost her mind?
Willa turned and looked at her, hope in her eyes. “Are you certain, Ellen? With your beaux coming—”
“We’ll make the decorations before they arrive. I’ll take Father’s cutter out to Butternut Hill to ask about the pine boughs today. I’ve been wanting to see Sadie anyway.”
“But the snow, Ellen... You can’t—”
“Of course not. I’ll have Asa drive me. I’ll leave as soon as I’m warmed. Meanwhile...” She stepped to the settee and lifted a threadbare brown wool dress from the pile to distract herself from the panic building at her rash offers. “This would serve for a shepherd’s robe.” She glanced up as Willa joined her, reading relief and something more in her friend’s blue-green eyes—satisfaction? Willa truly needed her. It was an odd sensation. She had always been pampered and taken care of. No one had ever needed her. She tilted her head and smiled. “I assume there is a shepherd?”
“Yes. And the Three Wise Men. And Joseph and Mary, of course.”
“Of course. Is there anything green in this pile? I think green would be lovely for Mary—it’s the color of life.”
“A wonderful suggestion, Ellen.” Willa smiled and scooped the pile into her arms. “Let me put these on the chair by the hearth while we make our choices. That way you’ll get nice and warm before you leave for Butternut Hill.”
“A good idea. Perhaps we can— Oh, my...”
“What?”
She laid aside the brown wool dress she held and touched a bit of white lace peeking out of the pile. “Look at this.” A tattered lace-trimmed tablecloth unfolded as she pulled it from the pile. “Is there an angel?”
“Certainly. We can’t have the Christmas story without including the angel that brought the good tidings.” Willa smiled at her, then leaned down and riffled through the pile. “What have we to use for Joseph? Perhaps dark blue? Ah...”
“What?”
“Here is