Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
T he next Sunday morning, as dawn cast pink-tinged light through the windows and open door, Hank frantically prepared for guests. He could never remember feeling this unsettled in his life, wanting everything to be perfect. After all, Miss Taylor and Miss Bailey would be the first women to ever see—and cast judgment—on his home.
The house and porch were as clean as soap and water could make them. The furniture gleamed from beeswax polish. The stove was freshly blackened. The bedding on his wooden sleigh bed looked and smelled fresh. No weeds dared poke their heads up in the yards and garden. The clear glass in the windows caught every bit of sunlight.
Traces of his prior life remained, mostly because on every visit to his sister’s, she sent him home with something to, as she put it, ‘remind him of the elegances of life,’ albeit, mostly with her feminine taste.
Luckily, she was limited to what he could carry while riding his horse. So, several framed photographs sat on the mantel between an ancient pewter drinking mug and a pitch-roofed Seth Thomas cottage clock with a heavy pendulum. On the wall, sandwiched between two of her paintings was a carved shelf displaying a china shepherd and shepherdess and a filigreed box, inlayed with rosewood in the shape of a flower. Blue roses were painted on the surface of a basin and ewer on the dresser.
While secretly annoyed by some of her choices, now, Hank was grateful, hoping the flowery touch would appeal to a bride. He could imagine his sister gloating and telling him, “I told you so.”
Last night, he’d labored over chicken and dumplings, one of the few meals he could cook from scratch instead of opening up a can. The food now resided in the ice box, waiting to be warmed up. This morning, he’d gathered tender greens and carrots for a salad, squeezed lemons to make lemonade, ground beans in case anyone wanted coffee, and had tea leaves and a strainer ready for tea drinkers. He drew the line at baking, though, and planned to pick up some dessert in town.
Yesterday, Torin had helped him wrestle the square table outside to the porch, after he’d used the surface to iron the mostly unused tablecloth, four napkins, and his shirt for today. Now, the table was set, ready for his guests.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red. Turning, he saw Torin and Jewel heading their way. The girl very carefully held a mason jar of wildflowers with both pudgy hands. She didn’t take her eyes off the jar, her expression focused, tongue protruding.
With a chuckle, Hank bounded down the porch stairs. “Watcha got there, Jewel baby?”
She hefted the jar. “Flows for yo, Han.”
He crouched in front of the girl, his heart warming. “For me? Did you pick them yourself.”
“Pa help.” With a smile that crinkled her eyes, she thrust the jar at him.
Taking the jar, he leaned to kiss her cheek, inhaling her little girl scent. “Can’t say a lady has ever given me flowers before. They sure are pretty.”
“Pin. Blu.”
“ Pretty pinks and blues.” Hank stood and grinned at Torin.
His friend held up a second mason jar. “Figured you might want some cream for the coffee or tea.”
“Good thinking. I can’t believe I forgot.” Frantically, Hank glanced around. “What else am I missing?”
Torin rolled his eyes. “You’re a bachelor , remember. I’m sure their expectations are very low .”
Hank returned the eye roll and took the second one. “I’ll put the flowers in a vase on the table and this—” he hefted the cream jar “—into the ice box. Many thanks.”
Torin held out his hand to his daughter. “Come on, sweetling. We’re going home.”
“Sure you don’t want to stay and meet them? You two would be welcome. Dr. Angus, Miss Taylor, and Miss Bailey seem like good people.”
Torin made a sharp cutting off gesture. “Good only until put to the test,” he said, his tone bitter. “I won’t take that risk.”
Hank’s stomach twisted. He knew Torin and Jewel would be better off enlarging their tiny circle of friends. But it wasn’t his place to say so.
Jewel cast an imploring look at the lake. “Feed swansss?”
Swooping, Hank placed a kiss on her head. “Not today, Jewel baby. Tomorrow.”
Taking her father’s hand, she waved at Hank. “Ba-ba.”
Since his hands were full of jars, he just smiled at her. Sadly, he nodded at Torin, wishing there was something he could say to banish the haunted look from his friend’s eyes.
But such was beyond his power.
After church, in preparation for their outing with Dr. Angus and Mr. Canfield, Elsie gratefully removed the too-tight-around-the-waist pink outfit and loosened her corset to don her more comfortable work shirtwaist and skirt. Then she placed the picnic basket on the counter, while Miss Taylor changed out of her church clothes.
At least, she was slightly more comfortable. Still in a tight corset. Still constricted. Still hard to breathe when she exerted herself too much. But, for the most part, that dreadful pinching pain was gone.
Into the basket, she placed sliced beef, cheese, and pickle sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper, two mason jars of sweetened sun tea, and the cookies Miss Taylor bought the previous day from the sweetshop. We have more than enough food to tide us over if Mr. Canfield’s offerings are scanty.
Miss Taylor emerged from her room, wearing a shirtwaist of ruffled pink cotton, paired with a rose-colored skirt. A straw hat with pink peonies circling the brim perched at a becoming angle on her head.
She and Elsie took turns using the bathroom before gathering shawls, reticules, and the picnic basket, and going downstairs and into the sunshine. They didn’t have long to wait on the steps before a beautiful black equipage pulled by a gleaming dark horse stopped in front. A buckskin horse, Hank Canfield’s apparently, was tied to the back of the surrey.
Dr. Angus flashed them a grin. He’d changed out of his black frock coat, into a shirt with a string tie and a leather vest and looked far more relaxed and less starchy .
“Oh my!” Elsie breathed, so excited she bounced on her toes. “I can’t believe we’re going for a drive in that . I’ll have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not asleep and dreaming.”
“Let me oblige you.” Smiling, Miss Taylor gently pinched the girl’s arm. “There. You need to be awake so you can enjoy the company of those two handsome gentlemen.”
Exhaling a happy sigh, Elsie stood. She held the handle of the basket with both hands.
With athletic grace, Hank jumped down from the passenger side of the front seat. “Howdy, ladies. Good day for a drive in the park, eh?” He laughed and held out a hand for the basket. “What’s this? I have plenty of food. But I won’t say no to more victuals.”
With a flutter in her stomach, Elsie gave him the basket.
He took the handle in one hand and hefted it, raising his eyebrows. “What’s in this thing? Rocks?”
She giggled. “Just you wait and see, Hank Canfield.”
“I’ll stow this in the back and switch the doctor’s bag to the front.”
Miss Taylor strolled forward to pet the horse.
Mr. Canfield flashed Elsie an easy grin. “I tied Chipper to the back. Might as well ride in the lap of luxury.” He ran his gaze over the surrey. “Yes, indeedy. A mighty fine vehicle for the mighty fine Zeus to pull.”
“His name fits, don’t you think, Mr. Canfield?”
“Call me Hank. Everybody else does.”
Elsie felt torn, still enjoying the thrill of being addressed as Miss Bailey. But also wanting to be on comfortable terms with this handsome man. Making up her mind, she tilted up her chin and smiled, pretending to act lofty. “I suppose I’ll grant you permission to call me Elsie.”
He placed a hand on his chest. With a teasing light in his eyes, he swept her a dramatic half bow. “I’m honored, Elsie.”
She giggled and elbowed his side, just like she did with her brother. “Oh, you.”
“Wooof.” He pretended to cave his midsection. “A mighty pointy weapon you have there, Elsie.”
She loved their playful banter, so different from what she was used to with her more serious family.
Hank extended his free hand to help Elsie into the back seat like she was a grown-up lady. The seat wasn’t as high as the one on their buckboard, which she’d occasionally ridden in with Pa when Ma stayed home. She usually scrambled up into the seat on her own, uncaring if she exposed her lower limbs.
Oh, my. Elsie held in a nervous giggle, wanting to appear composed. But as she set her hand in his, her heart thudded. Gathering up her skirts, she tried to climb up in as ladylike a manner as possible but still was clumsy in doing so.
The leather tufted seat felt so comfortable, Elsie couldn’t help a little bounce and then, for good measure, another one. With a happy sigh, she settled back.
Until Hank climbed in and suddenly the seat, which had seemed so spacious, shrank. He slid all the way onto the seat, his broad shoulder almost touching hers, his nearest lower limb only a few inches away.
Even as her nose registered his smell of bay rum soap and horse, his presence seemed to suck all the air out of Elsie’s lungs. She squeezed her arms and lower limbs together to avoid accidentally touching him. But as Dr. Angus snapped the reins to start the surrey, she found that the movement of the vehicle, especially when the wheels hit a bump or pothole, made it impossible to avoid swaying against him.
She kept her gaze straight ahead or to the side, not wanting to look at the man when his face was only a few inches away, close enough to kiss. The thought sent a flush of heat through her body, and she struggled not to squirm away from him. Just my luck, if in avoiding being close to Hank, I fall out.
Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, they started up the narrow road, barely wide enough for the surrey. Hank proved to be quite the tour guide, pointing out the flora and fauna and telling humorous stories of his various adventures.
Caught up in his tales, gradually, Elsie allowed herself to relax, marveling at the man’s ease with conversation. “I’ve never heard a man talk as much as you, Hank,” she said in an admiring tone when he paused for breath. “You say as much in one day as my pa does in an entire season.”
“Well,” Hank drawled. “I don’t have much of a chance to converse. When I speak with my livestock, the horses, chickens, and pig don’t talk back.”
Elsie giggled. “Ours don’t, either.”
Hank leaned forward, grabbing the seat in front of him and pointing over Constance’s shoulder. “Turnoff’s coming up ’round the bend. Go right at the bur oak. Don’t worry, Doc.” He had a grin in his voice. “The trail is wide enough for your pretty surrey. This week, I took an axe and cut back any brush and overhanging branches. Wouldn’t want to scratch up your beauty, here.” He patted the seat back.
Dr. Angus tossed a quick glance over his shoulder. “Appreciate that. I know the surrey will become battered in time. But I’d like to enjoy the shiny newness for a few more days.” He slowed Zeus to carefully navigate the bend.
Elsie leaned forward, peering through the trees to see ahead. But no house was in sight.
“You sure live in an isolated area.” Miss Taylor twisted around in the seat to look back at him.
“Nah. Two other men live close by. We call ourselves The Bachelors of Three Bend Lake. We’re not in sight of each other because of the way the lake curves. But as the canoe glides, we’re only about fifteen, twenty minutes apart. Maybe double that on foot.”
“Why, that’s not bad at all,” Elsie exclaimed. “Where my family lives, the walk’s an hour to the nearest neighbor.”
Hank pointed up the mountain. “If you keep going up the road, ’bout half an hour’s climb, you’ll hit the Swensen place.”
“Swensen,” Miss Taylor echoed. “Do they have beautiful, little blonde girls?”
“Got that right. Nicest family you ever met.”
Miss Taylor shifted to better view them in the back seat. “I saw five of the girls in the sweetshop once. They were so adorable, I wanted to adopt them all.”
Elsie tried to think if she’d seen the family at church. From the description, she couldn’t recall them.
“They are little sweethearts,” Hank agreed. “I see Swensen more than his wife and girls, though. We sometimes cross paths when we’re both out hunting. He’s got a baby boy, now. Pleased as punch, he is.”
The narrow road opened up to a view of a bowl-shaped valley with a lake cupped between mountains—the body of water looking large to Elsie’s marveling eyes—even if Hank had described Three Bend Lake as small, narrow, and twisty. The breeze blew their direction, bringing a scent—Elsie couldn’t quite describe what—water, perhaps, and greenery from the mossy rocks tumbled on the edge near a sandy beach.
Two long-necked white swans drifted side by side. One dipped its head, and the other pivoted close. She watched in awe as their long necks merged to make a heart shape and let out a slow breath at the romantic sight. Suddenly, Miss Taylor’s swansdown cloak, which Elsie had so admired when her employer wore it to the Norton-Bellaire dinner party, seemed like a travesty. The thought of killing these beautiful creatures to make such a garment turned her stomach.
Dr. Angus pulled up in front of a snug cabin, with a wide porch. As he tied off the reins and set the brake, Elsie tore her attention from the swans to take in the sight of Hank’s home.
Blue shutters framed the windows. On one side of the porch sat two rocking chairs. A square table had obviously been moved outside and covered with a snowy cloth. On it resided a cut glass vase stuffed with wildflowers. How lovely. We’ll be able to enjoy the view while we eat.
Hank waved toward the right side of the house. “Ladies, while we see to Zeus, you’ll find a privy and pump in back.”
“My ma once said she liked a man who knows a woman’s needs,” Elsie exclaimed with a smile in his direction. Then, embarrassed by speaking so freely, she covered her mouth with both hands and didn’t dare look at Miss Taylor.
Hank winked at her. “I believe I’d like your ma. Sounds like a plain-spoken woman.”
Elsie wasn’t so sure about that. Sometimes her mother’s directness was mighty uncomfortable.
Hank climbed out and grabbed the picnic basket. He came around to help Elsie down, while Dr. Angus did the same for Miss Taylor.
The two women strolled behind the house to find the privy. A pump in a half-barrel set into the ground was situated between the barn and the cabin. This side of the house also had a narrow back porch—convenient for access to the pump water.
Once they’d used the privy and washed their hands and faces, Elsie and Miss Taylor returned to the front, where the surrey remained parked. Chipper was turned loose in the fenced part of the meadow, and Zeus, tied to a fencepost on a long lead, grazed on the green grass. The picnic basket rested on the table, and the men were not in sight.
Elsie placed her hand on the porch railing, going on tiptoe and angling her face toward the closest window. “This is a pretty house. I wonder what the inside’s like. Do you think we can go look?”
“Let’s wait for our host to invite us in.”
Luckily for Elsie’s impatience, they didn’t have long before the men came around the side of the house, talking with gestures that indicated the topic was their surroundings. They stopped before the women.
Hank cocked an eyebrow and indicated the table. “You ladies hungry, yet?”
Miss Taylor waved toward the lake. “If you gentlemen don’t mind, I’d like to walk around some. We’ve been sitting too much today.”
Once again, Elsie clasped her hands together. “Can we please feed the swans, Hank?”
He nodded. “I have some bread in the house.”
Miss Taylor let out a breath of apparent happiness. “You are so lucky, living on the water with such a beautiful view.” She pointed to a narrow path winding beside the shore. “I’d like to explore along the lake.”
Dr. Angus offered his arm to Miss Taylor. “How ’bout if we take a look around—enjoy the sights—while Hank and Elsie feed the swans. Say twenty minutes or so? Then we can all join up and have that picnic.”
“That sounds just right.” Miss Taylor looked at Elsie, eyebrows raised, obviously checking if she felt comfortable with staying alone with Hank.
Playing matchmaker, Elsie smiled and lowered her arm, making a little surreptitious go-on gesture. Her skirt blocked her hand signal from the men’s line of sight. She didn’t dare wink, even if Hank could, having learned that wasn’t ladylike.
Miss Taylor took the doctor’s arm, and the two strolled along the faint path beside the lake.
Elsie watched with a feeling of approval. Those two had mostly stopped their bristling with each other, and now, hopefully, would get on with the important business of falling in love.
This visit is going to be so interesting.