22

At church the following Sunday, Rosemary noticed tired lines etched across Reverend French’s brow when he entered the sanctuary. Clarissa’s hymn selections tended toward the minor key—“Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” was followed by “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” A natural soprano, Rosemary struggled to bring her voice down to follow the notes as Clarissa played.

She couldn’t fault them. Galen had yet to return. According to Curt, in the past the Frenches’ son had never stayed away for so long a time. She glanced across the center aisle at Dr. Stewart. If only he hadn’t become involved . . .

Then she bowed her head and focused on her clasped hands. She shouldn’t blame him for something she’d started. Lord, you know where Galen is. Please deliver him to his family.

Reverend French used the first two verses of Psalm 123 as the theme for his sermon. When he spoke of lifting his eyes toward heaven and waiting on the Lord’s mercy, he aimed his words at the faithfulness of those in the congregation who had waited for a loved one to return from the war. Rosemary suspected he used the verses to encourage himself as he and Clarissa waited once again for Galen’s return.

Dr. Stewart joined Rosemary as she left the sanctuary after the close of the service. A soft breeze swirled the scent of lilacs and fresh-cut grass around them. He moved close to her side as they descended the steps.

“Would you like to accompany me on a house call in the country this afternoon? We can combine medicine with pleasure, and stop somewhere afterward for a light picnic. I’ll have the cook at West & Riley’s wrap sandwiches and cookies.” The eager expression in his eyes sent a pang through her. “I wish I could.” She dared to place her hand on his arm, wishing she’d never agreed to another Sunday afternoon with Jacob. The time had come to discourage him. If only she could think how to do it without losing his friendship. “Unfortunately, this afternoon is already promised.”

At the doctor’s downcast look, she stopped near the edge of the lawn. Her hand remained on his arm. She couldn’t let him walk away believing she didn’t want to spend time with him. “Maybe next Saturday? Or Sunday? I’d be pleased to prepare the food.” She held her breath.

His winning smile spread over his face. “Saturday. Rain or shine. Would late morning suit you?”

“Absolutely.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and gave herself a squeeze. Late morning would suit her just fine. As he strolled away, her mind raced ahead to what she might prepare, given her limited budget.

Cassie joined her at that moment. Eyes sparkling, she clasped Rosemary’s hand. “I just talked to your brother and Faith. They’re considering my offer to spend days with Judge Lindberg. Faith said they had a few details to consider first.”

“What good news.” Rosemary felt sure the details involved making a decision to hire a cook. She glanced at Dr. Stewart’s retreating back. If a cook were found, she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving her position in the doctor’s office—and the opportunity to spend time with him daily.

“How long should I wait before I ask them again?” Animation brightened Cassie’s face.

“A few more days, at least.” She turned her steps toward home. “Let’s take Bodie for a walk and enjoy a bit of this fine afternoon before Jacob arrives.”

“You’re going for a buggy ride with him again today?”

“This will be the last time. It’s not fair to give him false hope.”

Cassie’s eyes rounded with surprise. “He’s awfully nice. I thought you liked him.”

“I do—just not enough.”

After Jacob settled Rosemary on the buggy seat, he paused before slapping the reins over the horse’s back. “Last week we went to Hartfield at my suggestion. Today it’s your turn. Where would you like to go?” He spoke as though Sunday afternoons together were a regular event.

Rosemary twisted her gloved fingers around the satin cord on her handbag. From his trimmed hair to his polished boots, she knew he’d spent extra time preparing for their afternoon together. She couldn’t hurt his feelings by telling him at the outset what she’d rehearsed before he arrived. Where should she suggest they go? Certainly not to the property he wanted to buy north of Pioneer Lake.

She raised her eyes to meet his. “I’d like to call on Miss Graves again.” She swallowed, praying they’d be welcome.

Doubt flickered across his face. “Are you sure you want to? She acted angry when we were there last week.”

“She’d just had a shock. I’m sure things have settled down by now.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right.” He guided the horse toward the eastern end of town. “If I spent as much time worrying over my customers as you do the doctor’s patients, I’d never get any sleep.”

Her temper sparked. “It’s not the same thing at all. Miss Graves isn’t the doctor’s patient. I’m concerned for her as a friend. Heaven knows, she needs one.”

“No need to bark at me. If you want to help her, go ahead.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a half smile. “Whatever the reason, let’s enjoy our ride. These spring days will be over soon. When summer gets here, we’ll be seeking shade.”

She had to tell him that when summer arrived they wouldn’t be spending time together. She drew a fortifying breath. “Jacob—”

“I see them too.” He pointed the buggy whip at a flock of wild turkeys in a clearing beside the road. The toms were strutting, their iridescent plumage glowing in the sunlight. “Those birds are overrunning our county. I’m going to send a couple of fellows out here tomorrow to bag a few for the restaurant. I’ll make sure you get one of them.”

“Jacob—”

“I know you don’t want charity. This is different. They’re free for the taking.”

Rosemary heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes upward. She’d talk to him on the way home from Jolene’s. Right now he was so focused on the turkey population she doubted he’d pay attention to a word she said.

When he turned the buggy through the opening in the fence at the Graves’s farm, their dog bounded up to the wagon, barking. She noticed several men working in the garden plot near the cabin.

Mrs. Graves appeared in the open doorway. Shading her eyes with her hand, she peered up at them. “Miss Saxon.”

Rosemary held her breath. Would she be asked to leave?

The tiny woman snapped her fingers to shush the dog, then smiled at the two of them. “I’ll tell Jolene you’re here. You and your beau come on in for a cool drink.”

“He’s not—”

“Thank you, ma’am. We appreciate the offer.” Jacob hopped to the ground and offered his hand to Rosemary, then kept his hand on her elbow as they followed the woman into the cabin.

Jolene dashed toward her. “Thank you so much! I just know you had something to do with him coming back.”

Jacob stepped to one side to allow the two of them to embrace. Even in the dim light, Rosemary noted the glow on the girl’s face. The baby’s father must have returned. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Jolene’s situation had been resolved.

“I wish I could take credit, but I don’t even know who he is. The Lord brought him here, I didn’t.”

Jolene chuckled and squeezed Rosemary’s wrist. “Of course you know him. You took me to church the day we met.”

“You don’t mean Galen French?” Stunned, Rosemary glanced between Jolene and her mother.

Mrs. Graves nodded. “Thought you knew. He come back last Sunday eve. Told us he cared for our girl.” She waved a hand at the chairs next to the table. “You two sit. I’ll fetch some water while Jolene tells you what he said.”

While the older woman busied herself with glasses and a dipper, her daughter slid into a chair beside Rosemary. “He told Ma and Pa he had feelings for me.” She cupped her hands around her abdomen, blushing. “Said he didn’t care what happened before.”

“But why is he still here? His parents are very worried.”

Jolene covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Oh, gracious. I thought they knew about me.”

Mrs. Graves placed tumblers of water in front of Rosemary and Jacob. “He should be coming in with Pa and the boys any minute. You can tell him about his parents.” A smile crossed her lips. “He told us he’d stay and work for her, like Jacob in the Bible story did for his Rachel. We figured he’s a man grown, he can make his own decisions. Course we wouldn’t have kept him for seven years.” She chuckled.

The warmth in the small cabin felt oppressive. Mrs. Graves expected her to talk to Galen? Rosemary extracted a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed perspiration from her temples. The last thing she wanted to do was interfere any further in their lives.