Sullen, rolling thunder woke Audrey. Rain lashed the windowpanes, and Judge Madison’s old house vibrated with the newest storm. Nothing in Thunder Ridge went half done. It either rained like pouring water from a spout, or the weather was so dry the grasshoppers begged for mercy.
Crawling off the mattress, she stifled a groan. Every muscle in her body ached. Yesterday had been a trial, but today she was determined to look on the bright side. God was in control, wasn’t he? If she didn’t understand her present predicament, surely he did. When Kirkland Burying returned, she’d make herself apply for the assistant position. No doubt the community had a need for the service, and if tending the deceased would pay for her keep, she could do whatever was required.
She paused at her bedroom window and scanned the dreary landscape. The millpond was almost bank full. Logs jammed the small body of water. If there was much more rain it would overflow across the road. From her window it looked like most of the roads were almost impassable already, except maybe with a boat.
The smell of frying meat drifted up the stairway. She moved away from the window and gave a final glance in the mirror before she descended the stairway, suddenly very hungry.
When she walked into the warm kitchen, Copper was at the stove stirring oatmeal. The heat from the cook stove was sweltering.
Outside, rain drummed a steady beat on recently parched ground, and she was reminded of a song her mother used to sing about little raindrop soldiers. The refrain danced through her mind with an old familiarity.
Their little drums go rat-a-tat-tat, their little feet go pitter-pat.
She smiled at the reminiscence, and pilfered a piece of bacon. “I see you’re not suffering any ill effects from the accident. Can I help with anything?”
Copper indicated a stack of plates. “You can set the table if you like. Willow is upstairs feeding Wallace. We’ll eat when she comes down.”
Audrey arranged the plates and silverware. “Sorry I over-slept. You should have awakened me.”
“You had a hard day yesterday. I had a feeling you needed the rest.”
Willow entered the room carrying a tray. “Oh, there you are, Audrey. How do you feel?”
“Sore and tired,” she admitted, “but I suppose I’ll live. I see it’s still raining.”
“Hasn’t let up all night.” Willow sat the tray by the sink. “It’s hard to remember how hard we prayed for rain. Seems the good Lord is sending abundance.”
Copper laughed. “Be careful what you ask for. The Bible says God gives full measure, tamped down and running over.”
“I’ve already had more than I want. If it keeps this up we’ll float away, like a bilious green ark without the animals.” She untied her apron and sat down. “Uncle Wallace eats so little these days. He’s so frail. He barely weighs more than I do.”
“Would he sip some broth?” Copper asked. “I could simmer a little meat with some onions and garlic.”
“He might,” Willow mused. “It would be worth a try, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll get it started right after breakfast.” Copper dished up the oatmeal and placed the bowl on the table. “There’s bacon and toast if you want.”
“None for me,” Willow said, and Audrey echoed the refusal.
When the women were seated around the table, Willow bowed her head and asked the blessing. While they ate they caught up on everything that had happened since their last visit. A knock at the door sent Willow scurrying to answer. Audrey could hear her talking, and a man’s voice responding. Moments later she entered the kitchen with Eli. Audrey’s heart skipped a beat.
He removed his jacket, hanging it in the corner to drip. “Morning, ladies. Fine weather for ducks.”
Audrey reached for another cup. “What are you doing out so early?”
He handed Willow a bundle of clothing. “Brought Wallace’s clothes home. I tried to keep them dry, but as hard as it’s raining, they’re almost as wet as I am. Tell Wallace I said much obliged for the loan.”
Willow took the soggy offering. “I’m just happy we found something to fit you. Are you working at the mill today?”
Audrey filled his cup, and after some coaxing, he pulled out a chair and sat down, clearly uncomfortable with the company. “Can’t. The ground’s a mess out there. Men can’t get to work, and even if they could, everything is water-logged. We’ve been trying to turn the water away from the mill. So far we’ve succeeded, but I don’t know how long we can hold out if it doesn’t let up soon.” He took a sip of coffee. “Wallace okay this morning?”
Willow sighed. “Still lethargic. I believe his mind is slipping. He called me Claudine.”
Audrey bent over Eli’s shoulder to set fresh cream on the table. The brief contact sent chills down her spine. He smelled woodsy, clean, so unlike some of the mill workers who obviously considered soap one of women’s frivolities.
“How long ago was that stroke?”
“Early July.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “His wife’s been dead for some time, but I guess it’s natural to be confused where the mind’s concerned. These things take time to pull out of, and some never do.”
“He still misses Claudine dreadfully. They were inseparable, you know.” Willow stepped to the window and lifted the curtain. “Have you seen Tucker today?”
“He’s at the mill, mooning over you.” He flashed an ornery grin.
“Oh—silly.”
“No, you’ve got that man as lovesick as an old coon hound.”
“Good.” Willow grinned and turned back to the sink full of dishes.
“It has to be hard for the judge,” Audrey picked up the thread of conversation, holding Eli as long as possible. “I wish we could do something to make him more comfortable.”
“He sleeps most of the time.” Willow dunked an iron skillet into the dishpan of sudsy water. “He doesn’t seem to be in pain.”
Audrey finally made eye contact, but Eli became absorbed in the cream pitcher. He drained his cup and shoved his chair back. “I’ve got to get to the mill. Caleb and Tucker are filling sandbags.”
“Why don’t you come for supper tonight?” Audrey couldn’t believe she was so bold. “Bring Caleb and Tucker.”
She glanced at Willow’s stunned expression.
“I’ll cook,” she added.
“Thanks, but the sandbagging will keep us busy. We’ll work through the night.”
He left, and Copper closed the door behind him. She turned to eye Audrey, who felt heat suffuse her cheeks. “Well, they have to eat.”
Willow and Copper snickered.
“Audrey loves Eli,” Copper teased.
“Audrey doesn’t love her friends at the moment, and she’s going upstairs now.”
Copper shrugged. “Oh, stay and help dust. I promise I won’t say another word about him.”
“Him who?” Audrey tossed back. Her plans were her plans, and until they materialized she had no reason to share her intentions with these two and have them tease her mercilessly.
“Him anybody,” Copper said. “You choose.”
While Willow put light bread to rise, Copper and Audrey dusted the various figurines and pieces of glassware cluttering the parlor tables.
Copper paused with feather duster in hand. “You know, there’s enough stuff here to start a store. Willow should go into business.”
“True, but that would hurt Wallace. These are all Claudine’s treasures.”
Copper made a face. “I was teasing, of course, but you have to admit there’s an enormous amount of clutter here. Wallace must have spent a fortune on all this glass and knickknacks.”
Willow’s voice floated from the kitchen. “Ladies, we have company!”
The women trooped to the kitchen to find Widow Gleeson holding a copy of Godey’s Lady’s Book. The widow stood in the doorway, smiling, a man’s black rain cape draped over her shoulders. Stout boots protected her feet from the puddles, and a straw hat that had seen better days covered her head. “Just heard about Tucker and Willow’s wedding, and I thought you ladies might enjoy looking through the book.”
“We’d love it, Mrs. Gleeson. Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness.”
“No trouble a’ tall. I was on my way to the mercantile anyway.” She nodded toward Audrey and Copper. “The rain is wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Wonderful,” both women agreed.
“I’ll be on my way.”
When the door closed, Willow carried the book to the table while Copper discarded the duster. “Good! You find something you like, and I promise Audrey and I will have it sewn in no time.”
The women pored over the pages, discussing the intrinsic worth of each style. Finally they settled on one they all favored. The dress had a fitted, fully lined bodice with long sleeves, and lace trim at the waist, around the wrists, and on the bib collar.
“Now, for the hard part,” Audrey said. “Where do we find the needed material? No one sells decent yard goods in Thunder Ridge.”
Willow frowned. “You’re right, the general store only sells essentials, and I wouldn’t touch anything in my aunt’s sewing room. Uncle Wallace wants Claudine’s personal effects kept intact, as if he’s expecting her to walk through the door any moment. But I spotted some trunks in the attic when I was up there one day. I didn’t investigate them, but given Aunt Claudine’s habit of keeping everything, including scraps of thread, there just might be something up there that we can use.”
Copper sprang to her feet. “Let’s go see! It’ll be fun.”
Willow brought candles, and they climbed the steep, winding staircase to the attic.
Rain beat against the dirty windows as they entered the storage space. Gloomy skies dimmed the outside light, so they lifted their candles, moving them back and forth to search each part of the musty room. Willow paused before a large camel-backed trunk. “Let’s see what’s in here.”
The first garment Copper pulled out was a blue poplin dress with leg-of-mutton sleeves. “Claudine had good taste in clothing, if not houses.”
Audrey modeled a Huntley bonnet, a black velvet cap decorated with plumes; and Willow draped a black satin cape, a palatine, trimmed with apricot-colored satin and black lace, over her shoulders. “I never dreamed Aunt Claudine was so fashionable. When I met her she had put on quite a bit of weight. These gowns are small.”
After digging through several of the trunks, but finding nothing suitable for a wedding dress, Audrey opened a small chest shoved back in a corner. “Look, Willow! How perfect.” She held up a dress of creamy white satin. The fitted bodice had rows of delicate lace. The sleeves were narrower than leg-of-mutton but not tight enough to be called form-fitted. “Do you suppose it’s Claudine’s wedding gown?”
“There’s no way to know, but it is lovely.” She fingered the exquisite fabric. “Perfectly lovely.”
“Oh, Willow,” Copper gasped. “It’s even prettier than the one in the book.”
Willow took the dress and held it up to her. “What do you think?”
“A little long, but that can be easily remedied.” Copper stepped back, experienced eyes focused on the garment. “A little tuck here, one there, and it will fit you beautifully.”
“I don’t know.” Willow frowned. “This must be Aunt Claudine’s. I’d have to ask permission to wear it, and I don’t want to upset Uncle Wallace.”
“Let’s take the gown downstairs,” Copper suggested. “Then when you feel the time is right you can tell him you found it, and ask permission to be married in it. I’ll bet he’ll consider it an honor.”
Audrey had been searching the trunk, gently folding articles of clothing. Her hand touched something solid. She shifted a dark green velvet jacket to find a photo album. Copper was still rambling on about the find, but Audrey’s attention turned to yellowed pages, fascinated by images of people. Next to the last page she paused, sucking in a breath.
“Willow, look at this. Here’s the dress.”
Copper peered over her shoulder, “Oh, land’s sake, it is. Who are these people?” A proud groom and a tall beauty stared out from the yellowed pages.
Audrey read the spidery script written underneath. “It’s Wallace and Claudine. This must be their wedding picture. Wasn’t she pretty?”
“And Wallace,” Copper exclaimed. “Quite dashing.”
Willow peered over her shoulder. “They made an elegant couple. They look so happy.”
“Surely Wallace will allow you to be married in the gown,” Copper decided. “Have you told him you aren’t going to marry Silas?”
“I’ve not had enough nerve to tell him. He was so determined we marry that I can’t bear to disappoint him.”
“You know, Willow, despite the fact I was dead set against your plan, in retrospect, Wallace was trying to make certain you’d be well looked after when he was gone. He meant well.”
“I know he did, and his eyes lit when I told him Silas intends to pay off the house note—”
“You told him about Silas paying the note but not your change in wedding plans?” Copper gasped.
“Well…I was approaching the subject, but he was tiring and…I’m sure Uncle Wallace will understand. I’m just a coward, and I’m hoping he’ll improve and he’ll see the wisdom in my good fortune to find a man that I really love.”
Audrey modeled a jacket in front of the mirror. “Do you want me to tell him? Sometimes disappointing news is easier to hear when told by a second party.”
“No, of course not. I’ll tell him. Just not today.”
A drop of rain fell from the ceiling, striking Audrey’s forehead. She gasped, and Willow tilted her head back, gazing up. “Drats. The roof is leaking.”
Audrey wiped rain away. “If one little drop is all it leaks in a rain like this one, we’ll be all right.”
The women straightened the attic and returned to the downstairs, stopping off at Willow’s room to hang the dress in the closet. She lovingly stroked the satin fabric, and Audrey knew that she was thinking of how she would appear to Tucker on their wedding day.
After supper Copper wanted to bake a cake. Sugar was running low, so Audrey gladly ran the errand. The tiny general store was mostly occupied by men wearing boots and slickers when she arrived. They sat around the potbellied stove that threw out so much heat the store felt like a sweltering wet wool blanket.
She purchased a pound of sugar and turned to leave when she bumped into Eli carrying a small brown bag. Their gazes locked, and she realized his excuse for not coming to supper had been manufactured. Still, she summoned a naive smile. “Copper wants to make a cake and we were low on sugar. I volunteered to fetch some for her.”
Color crept up his ears. He lifted the bag. “Had a hankering for jelly beans.”
She bit back the impulse to invite him for cake, but that would be too awkward since he’d already refused her supper invitation. “How’s the sandbagging coming along?”
“Making progress.” He held the door open for her to walk out in front of him. Falling into step, they walked toward the sawmill and the judge’s house. “Rain’s nice, but it could let up a little.”
“Yes. Very wet.”
Wet. Honestly, Audrey. He’ll think you’re a simpleton.
She caught sight of a portly boy splashing in a big puddle. The child was covered in mud, head to foot. With every uninhibited leap, he sent the water high enough to drench his head and shoulders. “Look at that child. He’ll ruin those fine boots.”
Frowning, Eli paused. “That’s Horace Padget, Jr., the banker’s son. I wonder if Cordelia knows he’s outside.”
Audrey had seen the child around, and Willow had mentioned the Padgets only last evening. They appeared to be a selfish, self-centered lot. “The boy’s mother?”
“His jailer. She keeps that boy on a tight leash. My boy, Tate, plays with him, but truthfully, I’d rather he didn’t. The child needs a switching.”
“Oh…is that necessary?” She didn’t hold with switchings unless absolutely necessary.
“Cordelia protects him like a cranky hawk.”
“Only child?”
He nodded. “God is merciful.”
As they watched, Horace slipped and landed facedown in a mud hole. He lumbered to his feet, squalling at the top of his lungs.
Wincing, Eli said. “Got a good pair of lungs, doesn’t he?”
Audrey’s first instinct was to comfort the boy. “Is he hurt?”
“No, he’s just mad.” He stalked over and bent to pull the boy out of the puddle.
Junior wiped his eyes, glaring up at Eli. “You pushed me.”
“I wasn’t even close to you.”
“I’m going to tell Ma. You’ll be in big trouble.”
“I’m scared.” He wiped mud out of Junior’s eyes. “You aren’t supposed to stomp in puddles, are you?”
He sniffed. “What’s a puddle?”
“Mud puddle.” He gestured to the standing water. “What you’ve been playing in.”
“I ain’t ever”—Junior sniffed—“sawed one.”
“Haven’t seen one,” Audrey corrected from the sidelines.
Junior glared at her. “Who’s that?”
“Someone who needs to get out of the rain.” Eli gripped the boy’s shoulder. “You’ve seen a mud puddle before, but you were pretty young. Come on. We’ll take you home.”
Audrey watched as Eli marched the child out of the standing water. What with the lack of rain over the years, perhaps the child was enthralled by the new sight.
Horace looked like he wanted to object, but after a glance at Audrey and apparently seeing no support there, he ducked his head and walked between the couple.
In an attempt to keep a straight face, Audrey focused on the house up ahead, perched on a high bluff. Built in the Victorian style, the structure was intimidating, to say the least, with wide gables and wraparound porches.
They scaled the brick-lined path, and the front door flew open. A tall, thin woman with her dark hair pulled back in a formidable pompadour obscured the doorway. “Hor…race! Oh my poor baby. What’s happened?”
“He had an accident,” Eli began, but Junior interrupted.
“He pushed me down, Ma! In a big ole, dirty, wet hole.”
“Pushed you?” Cordelia’s hawkish eyes whipped to pin Eli and Audrey. “Is this true? Why would you do such a thing to an innocent child?”
“No, you don’t understand,” Audrey began, but Cordelia rolled right over her.
“I can’t believe an adult would do something so childish.” She yanked Horace behind her skirts. “You get off this property right now, or I’ll set the dogs on you, Eli Gray! The very idea, pushing a helpless child—and you keep that son of yours away from my Horace. He’s a bad influence.”
She slammed the door in their faces.
Eli shook his head. “Helpless? That boy is about as helpless as a prairie rattler.”
A dog howled from behind the house.
He reached for Audrey’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before she makes good on her threat. She’s got big dogs.”
They hurried down the brick path, their boots slipping on the uneven ground. Audrey resisted the urge to look back, determined not to let Eli witness her fear.
Eli, walking ahead, called over his shoulder, “I didn’t push that boy.”
“I know.”
“I tried to help him.”
“I witnessed every moment.”
“You’d think she’d have been grateful.”
“You’d think.”
He kicked a limb out of the path. “I don’t see how Horace puts up with Cordelia. She’s meaner than any two women put together.”
“I suppose only God understands her.”
He paused, and tipped his head to let the water run off his brim. “I’ll bet he gets a mite bent out of shape dealing with her.” He looked up, breaking into a grin. “What are you wearing?”
“What?” Audrey reached up, and with a sinking sensation she realized she was wearing Wallace’s old hat.
“The hat.”
“Oh.” She curtsied. “The latest Paris fashion. If you must know, I’m a slave to fashion.”
He took a step back, his eyes skimming her drenched appearance. “Yes. I can see.”
Heat tinged her cheeks, and she shimmied around him. “I’m about to drown.” She’d like nothing more than to stand and chat with him all day, rain or no rain, but she supposed there was such a thing as appearances. She couldn’t appear too eager.
The last thing she wanted was to scare the man deeper into his shell.