Meredith slipped from the outhouse early the next morning, unsure whether to be sheepish or delighted. A lady didn’t discuss such topics, but she couldn’t help wanting to thank Ian again. And again. And again.
Just to keep from flinging her arms around Ian in thanks last night, she’d clung to Tucker’s arm and babbled in delight. She’d probably made a complete fool of herself, but Ian was far too polite to say so. She’d finally stammered something and run back home to soak in the bath. She didn’t take as long as she wanted to. Tucker had to be tired, too, and she wanted him to enjoy hot water. She’d no more than lain down when she heard him come into the cabin. A mere breath later, she’d fallen fast asleep.
“Ian wants to know if you want to worship here or over at his place.”
“Do you mind if it’s at his place? The light shining through that window would be perfect.”
“Okay. Ian invited Abrams again, but that ornery old man won’t come. I’m going to go see if Mr. Clemment is interested.”
Tucker coaxed Mr. Clemment to come over and worship with them. Mr. Clemment arrived in overalls that he wore backward. He looked slightly confused and grew wary as Tucker introduced him to Ian.
Ian slowly extended his right hand. “I’m glad to meet the neighbor on the other side of that fine bramble that separates our claims.”
“God never made a better bramble!” Suddenly, Mr. Clemment warmed up to Ian and started telling him all of the varieties of birds that would peck the berries.
Ian listened and asked a few questions. Treating the odd man with respect, he managed to steer him into the house and seated him beside Meredith. “ ’Tis grand to have neighbors worship together, isn’t it?”
Meredith patted Mr. Clemment’s hand. “We’re glad you came.”
Ian reached over and took his Bible from the table. Meredith watched her twin. When they’d gone to the mercantile, she’d seen Tucker longingly running his fingers over the cover of a Bible. He’d not picked it up, though. Since Ian shared his Bible, they could do without buying one for themselves. Even though that was the case, Meredith knew her brother missed having a complete Bible every bit as much as she did.
“Tucker, here.” Ian handed his Bible to Tucker. “Why don’t you read to us from the Word of God today?”
Tucker accepted the Bible, sat down, and reverently rested his hand atop the leather cover for a long moment before opening the pages.
Meredith looked from her brother’s hands to Ian as he sat on a crate. Ian’s kindness and generosity and Tucker’s reverence stirred her heart.
After Tucker read from the Psalms, each of them took turns speaking of the Lord’s goodness. Ian ended with a prayer. Although an altogether simple service, observing the Lord’s Day still felt good.
Tired as she’d been from travel, Meredith decided beans would make for an easy and filling meal—especially since she had eggs. One precious egg allowed her to make a pan of corn bread.
After Sunday supper, Mr. Clemment paced around the garden plot. “I like sunflower seeds. Are you planting sunflowers?”
“No, they don’t have sufficient season to grow up here.” Ian proceeded to explain the crops they planned.
“Oh!” Meredith perked up. “Socks is going to send to Sitka for free seeds for us. They ought to come in a week. The only seeds he had were for parsnips, so I took a packet.”
“Been a long, long while since I had parsnip soup.” Mr. Clemment scratched his side. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a recipe for it.”
“I do. Once we have a nice crop of parsnips, I’ll be sure to make soup for Sunday supper especially for you.”
“Hold on, Sis.” Tucker gave her a warning look. “You can’t go counting your chickens before they hatch.”
“Chickens are fine birds,” Clemment said.
Meredith didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded acknowledgment to Mr. Clemment. “Tucker, we live by faith.”
“Not by faith alone. You have to face facts, too. Life brings hardships and trials. No matter how hard you and Ian work in that garden, you can’t count on anything coming of it.”
“Just like prospecting,” Clemment agreed. “You can work your fingers to the bone and hardly get a thing for all your efforts.”
“Don’t be faulting the lass for her bright outlook. Naysayers never get anything started and done. Her cheerful attitude is a wondrous thing.” A slow smile tugged at the corner of Ian’s mouth. “I’m thinking your mother named you well. A merrier woman I’ll never meet.”
“Mama called me Merry when I was small.”
The smile broke across Ian’s face. “And with your leave, I’ll call you the same. ’Tis a fitting name indeed for you.”
Delight rippled through her. “Please feel free to.”
“Good. Merry you are, so ’tis Merry you’ll be.”
“Merry?”
She ceased planting lettuce seeds, sat back on her heels, and faced Ian. “Yes?”
“You’ve mentioned your mother a few times. Tucker said she’s passed on. What about your father?”
She looked away and rasped, “He’s no longer with us.”
“Ahh.” He stretched out the sound in such a way that it carried the flavor of sorrow, as well as understanding. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to add to your grief.”
She bowed her head and covered the infinitesimal seeds with a fine layer of soil. The first batch of lettuce was starting to mature. By staggering the planting, they’d stretch the time they’d be able to enjoy the produce. Merry tried to concentrate on her task, but she worried that the way her hand shook would tell Ian how much he’d rattled her composure.
Why did I ever promise Tucker I wouldn’t tell anyone? Keeping the secret is so hard. I feel like I’m lying or dancing around the truth. Ian is such a good man, yet we’re repaying his generosity and kindness with deceit. Meredith swallowed to dislodge the thick ball in her throat, but it didn’t help.
Silence hung between them. The song of birds didn’t begin to cover the awkwardness.
“I won’t mention him again, Merry. I can see how much I’ve upset you, and I’m truly sorry.”
Tears blurred her vision as guilt mounted. Unable to speak, Meredith merely nodded.
Ian continued to work. The steady sound of his hoe made it easy for Meredith to know precisely where he was. He’d moved down that row and now came back toward her. Normally, they’d carry on a comfortable conversation while working in the garden. The strain of the silence pulled at her conscience. Bound by her promise to Tucker, she couldn’t say anything— but the topic weighed so heavily on her heart, nothing else came to mind.
The sharp sound of a slap made her look up. Ian frowned while looking at his forearm. “I’ve seen hummingbirds smaller than the mosquitoes around here!”
“Tucker says that Alaskan mosquitoes must not have heard the rule that everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas.”
“I’m sure the onions in Texas are larger. The few that did grow certainly weren’t worth the effort.”
“I’m not so sure about the parsnips, either. Mr. Clemment will be so disappointed if we don’t succeed with them.”
He leaned on his hoe. “Do you think the parsnips are actually normal in size? I’m thinking that the carrots, potatoes, and parsnips will be ordinary, but the long, long daylight hours are making things above the ground grow huge. Anything by comparison would look meager.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.” She scanned the garden. Calling it a garden seemed ludicrous. Early on, they’d had to thin the vegetables. Instead of tossing aside anything, Ian decided it would be good stewardship to plow a few more rows and transplant anything they thinned. But he’d had to do a few more rows…and a few more again.
Miners who’d paid Meredith to do their laundry and mending last year came by again. One look at the garden, and they’d eagerly bartered for vegetables. The funds from those first transactions paid for canning jars and more buttons.
Meredith and Tucker had come to an agreement: any of the money or goods she earned with laundry, sewing, and the garden would go toward their own needs. Tucker didn’t want any of that to go toward repaying everyone back in Texas. He alone would do that with whatever gold they mined.
“Aha!”
Ian’s sound made Meredith jump. She gave him a startled look.
“You think my question holds a grain of truth. Much as I love potatoes—and what self-respecting Irishman wouldn’t?—’tis a crying shame that they don’t grow so big here. But I’m thinking we’ll have enough to get us through the winter. Don’t you?”
She looked at that area of the patch. “I’m not so sure…not if I roast those two hares you snared today. Potatoes and carrots and roast…”
Ian looked up at the sky then heaved a sigh. “How am I to know when ’tis suppertime? The notion of living with the midnight sun sounded novel when first I came. But now I can’t sleep worth a hoot and don’t know when ’tis mealtime.”
“Time doesn’t have much meaning up here. If you’re having trouble sleeping, you can hang something dark in front of the windows and by the door. That helps.”
“I drove nails into the log directly above my window last night. Knotted the corners of a brown blanket ’round the nails.”
“Good.”
“Not so good. Just as I was finally falling asleep, one end slid off and pulled the other down with it. I gave up and put the blanket over my head—but then I could scarcely breathe and started roasting.”
“Oh dear.”
His mouth formed a self-deprecating smile. “I’d call myself a pathetic wretch, but I’d be lying. Just one look around, and I can see how blessed I am. I’ve a claim, a garden, and godly neighbors. What more could a man ask for?”
For his godly neighbors to be forthright instead of putting up pretenses. The answer shot through her mind. Unable to face him any longer, Meredith rose to her feet and dusted off her hands as she walked to the water bucket. Sipping water from the dipper, she fought to regain her composure.
“Hey!” A pair of men appeared on the edge of the woods. “Didn’t think it was possible a woman was round these parts, but Matthews said we’d find one here—and there you are!”
Ian appeared at her side in an instant. “Did you men need something?”
“Heard tell the gal takes in laundry and mending.”
“She might.” Ian’s voice sounded controlled and quiet, but at the same time, those two clipped words made it clear he wouldn’t put up with any nonsense.
The men drew closer. “Now that winter’s over, we’ve got clothes that need washing.” One raked his fingers through his greasy hair and beard. “A haircut would suit me fine. A shave, too.”
Meredith shook her head.
“The lady’s not a barber.” Ian stayed close and murmured, “If you don’t want to do their laundry, put your hand in the pocket of your apron. If you’ll do it, slip your hand into mine.”
Every bit of money she could earn mattered. Meredith slid her hand into Ian’s rough, warm palm. His fingers closed about hers. He squeezed gently, and Meredith struggled to stay composed.
I’m living a lie, and he’s protecting me.
“Well, that answers that,” one told the other.
“What?” Ian half growled.
“Heard the gal was here with her brother. That feller over yonder looks like her. He’s gotta be her kin. Kinda hoped she’d take a shine to one of us and marry up. Guess you beat us to her.”
“Crying shame, too. She’s pretty.”
Ian didn’t look at her. He simply stepped forward and tucked her behind himself.
“We ain’t meanin’ to insult you or scare your missus,” the other said to Ian. “Havin’ a wife to do the laundry and cookin’—well, you’re set real fine. Us? We just need some stuff done.”
Ian didn’t budge. “Women are worth far more than just being laundresses. This woman, in particular.”
“You’re right. Betcha she’s a fine cook, too.”
Meredith could feel the way Ian bristled at their comments. Whenever bachelors happened by, they invariably proposed. They wanted a woman to cook their meals, tend their clothes, and warm their bed. Even Mr. Abrams and Mr. Clemment had suggested marriage. Ian alone bore the distinction of being the only man she’d seen in the past fifteen months who hadn’t asked for her hand.
Does he have a wife or sweetheart back home? Or does he think I’m as attractive as last week’s fish?
“How much laundry do you have, and what kind of mending?”
He remembered me asking those same questions of Mr. Abrams. She stood on tiptoe and peeped over Ian’s shoulder.
“Two pair of britches and two shirts apiece. Most everything’s short a button or two.”
Elbowing his companion, the other jerked his head toward the garden and moaned. “Matthews was right. They’ve got fresh truck. Lots of it!”
Tucker sauntered over. His hooded expression wouldn’t allow the strangers to know what he was thinking, but Meredith knew full well he noticed Ian’s protective stance. “What’s going on?”
“We’re looking to have some laundry and mending done and to buy up some of those greens you folks are growing.”
Ian turned to Tucker. “Meredith’s planning to can any of the green beans and wax beans we don’t eat fresh.”
“You got all season to grow more. Surely you could spare us some now. And some lettuce, too. That’s lettuce, isn’t it?”
The man had good call to wonder. Ian had never seen lettuce even half that size. “Aye, it’s lettuce. And beside it—that’s cabbage.”
The two men whispered to each other. One finally cleared his throat. “One buck, cash money, and a pinch of gold dust. We get two quarts of fresh beans, two quart jars of beans the gal’s put up, two heads of cabbage, and two heads of lettuce, and the lady does our laundry and mending.”
Ian snorted.
“Two bucks.”
After supper one night a few weeks back, Meredith, Tucker, and Ian had come to an agreement regarding the price of their goods. For the effort they put into the garden, they needed to make a profit. After all, it did take away from the time Ian would prospect. But the money earned would also be a fine way of making it so others wouldn’t realize they’d found that sliver of a gold vein. Even so, if any of the three of them felt led to sell at a reduced rate or even give away food to someone in need, that would be fine.
Ian and Tucker exchanged a stern look. Then Tucker looked at her. Ian still didn’t budge—he kept her directly behind himself, out of their view. Something in the way the strangers acted didn’t put Meredith in a generous frame of mind. She gave her head a slight shake.
“The mercantile in Goose Chase charges a buck and a half for hamburger steak and onion in a can,” Tucker said. “One stinking can for a buck fifty. I don’t doubt they’d pay that much for a head of cabbage.”
“Probably pay us that much and charge a customer more,” Ian chimed in.
“The three of you can’t eat all that,” one of the men wheedled. “It’ll just go to waste.”
Merry slipped from behind Ian and stood between him and her brother. “I’ll just slice up any extra cabbage and whip up batches of sauerkraut. It’ll keep in crocks for months on end.”
“Other men are eager to buy our excess, and for fair prices.” Ian stared at the men. “But those men also understand the value of having a lady do their laundry and mending. Bad enough, you’ve offered gracious little for the food, but I’ll not stand by and let you insult Meredith. It would be best if you went off and struck a deal with someone else.”
“We can’t do that. There aren’t any other women, and no one else planted a garden.”
“You should have thought about those things before you made such a paltry offer.” Tucker made a shooing motion. “Go on and get off my land.”
“Six bucks!”
Ian folded his arms across his chest. “No. You insulted the lady. She’ll not be lowering herself to wash your clothes at any price.”
“Then five bucks. Forget the laundry or mending. We’ll pay you five bucks, cash money, and you give us two heads of lettuce and two heads of cabbage and—”
“No more,” Tucker ground out.
“My brother means to say,” Meredith blurted out, “we’ll agree to five dollars for the items you just specified.” She felt sure her brother was going to send the men packing even though they’d offered an exorbitant sum.
“Deal!” One of the men scrambled over.
“But you don’t come back. Ever.” Tucker stared at them.
After they left, Tucker ignored her. He looked at Ian. “I don’t care how much they offer. Sis isn’t doing their laundry or mending. Ever.”
“I agree. And they’ll not buy another morsel of food.”
“Are you going to bother to ask me?”
“No,” they said in unison.
She huffed. “I have a mind of my own.”
“Aye, you do. And a sound mind it is.” Ian then tacked on, “But you’ve also a tender heart. What kind of men would we be to stand by and let anyone abuse your helpfulness or hurt your feelings?”
“My feelings aren’t hurt.”
Ian shook his head. “Lass, that just proves our point. You’ve forgiven those louts already. Fact is, they didn’t care about your feelings. They had sufficient money to make a fair offer. They had no honor. Never deal with someone who lacks integrity.”
For the rest of the day, while the men used pickaxes and the sledgehammer to chip deeper into the stony earth, Ian’s words pounded into Meredith’s mind over and over again. “Never deal with someone who lacks integrity.” How would Ian feel when he learned the truth?