Chapter Eighteen
Grace had tucked Zachariah’s gift, a length of blue ribbon, into her pocket.
It had remained there, forgotten, until Grace’s hand happened into her pocket.
She only remembered its existence when her fingers brushed the soft silk.
Zachariah had suggested that Emily might appreciate the ribbon, which Grace couldn’t disagree with, but she also didn’t want Emily to become too fond of Zachariah, a man who they might never see again once they reached Oregon.
Grace was aware that those same rules did not apply to Ethan, but he was…
different for reasons that Grace couldn’t quite articulate.
Based on how persistent he’d been, Grace strongly suspected that Zachariah did want them to see one another again once they reached Oregon. He wasn’t an unlikable man…well, not exactly, but Grace just couldn’t muster any real feelings for him at all, good or bad. Zachariah was simply there.
Three days had passed since he’d given her the ribbon, and fortunately he hadn’t tried to pursue her again.
Maybe he’d realized that she simply wasn’t interested in a husband, and that there was no way he could persuade her otherwise.
Grace had been polite to him, but she’d been careful not to show interest in anything more.
The thought was a relief. She had never liked men who didn’t accept ‘no’ as an answer.
She paused, pulled out of her musings by Emily’s laughter.
Her daughter sat in a patch of grass dotted with purple and blue wildflowers.
Ethan was at her side, pointing to a cluster of pale white flowers growing directly out of the nearby rocks.
He really was so good with Emily. Grace had known that already, but every time she saw Emily and Ethan together, it kindled a tender feeling within her.
It was good that her daughter had found a friend.
She even dared to imagine doing this in Oregon. Maybe they could be neighbors and share many more evenings just like this one.
“And this one is called a bachelor’s button,” Ethan said, pointing to a tiny blue flower. “When Hannah was little, these were her favorite.”
Emily bounced to her feet and pulled a few of the flowers from the ground. “I’m going to make a bouquet!” she announced. “For you, Ma—Grace!”
Grace’s heart was in her throat. ‘Ma.’ Emily had come close to calling her ‘Mama’.
Had Ethan heard what Emily almost said? Looking at him, it was impossible to say, but his expression didn’t change, and he didn’t act like anything was amiss.
Maybe he’d thought she said ‘my Grace.’ Or maybe Ethan hadn’t noticed the ‘Ma’ at all.
“I would love a bouquet,” Grace told her, sitting beside Ethan.
“I was teaching her the different types of flowers,” Ethan said.
“I did overhear a bit,” Grace said, trying to decipher any suspicion in his tone. She didn’t hear any, so she let herself relax a little.
Emily held up her tiny bachelor buttons and looked at the two, seemingly thinking about how they might look together.
“Who taught you all the names? Your mother? Or did you study them? Are you an amateur botanist, Mr. Walker?” she asked, trying to tease him. “I’ve only learned about plants from my books.”
He chuckled. “I wish I’d…” Ethan trailed off, hesitant. “Mostly Ma. I wish I’d been able to read books about it. In truth, I…I cannot read very well. Pa didn’t care much about my schooling, and after he died, I had—I had other worries.”
“Oh,” Grace whispered, numb with mortification. “I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t be. I managed fine.”
“That is why you didn’t want any of the books I offered,” Grace said slowly as she began to piece things together, “and why you acted like a cat being forced into a bath when I mentioned them.”
Grace felt utterly wretched for assuming that he’d just been dismissive toward her! He must have been terribly embarrassed, humiliated even, when she kept insisting on him reading more.
“Yes,” Ethan said good-naturedly. The light-hearted tone of his voice didn’t match his eyes, though. His face reflected such a depth of loss that Grace wasn’t sure she’d ever understand the weight of his grief. “I wouldn’t describe myself that way, though. That image come from one of your books?”
He tried to conceal his pain with the attempt at humor. Grace looked away, desperate to comfort him, but unsure how to do so.
“Look!” Emily exclaimed as she ran over with her tiny bouquet of blue and white flowers. Grace smiled at her.
“That’s beautiful, Em.”
“You should make a bouquet too!” Emily exclaimed. “We all should! We can decorate the wagons with them!”
Grace glanced at Ethan, waiting to see if he would insist that making bouquets was a foolish endeavor, a waste of time and energy.
That’s what she thought he would say, at least. Or would have, earlier in her journey, although she still was hesitant to fully believe in the kinder, gentler Ethan she had been witnessing lately.
“Why not?” he said instead.
Grace’s lips twitched into a smile. She should have known better.
Ethan would never do anything to upset Emily.
Grace suspected he’d do anything for her daughter, or maybe just any child.
He’d won Emily’s heart with lessons about wagons and flowers, as well as her little carved doll.
Ethan would make a wonderful father someday.
He climbed to his feet and cracked his back, then set about gathering flowers of his own.
He started with a small bundle of green sprigs with tiny pink blossoms. Grace plucked one of the bachelor buttons from the ground, then another.
Instead of making a bouquet, she wove the delicate green stems together as she collected more flowers, intent on making a little crown.
“Oh, I see you are all quite occupied,” said Hannah as she joined them, laughing as she dropped to the ground beside Grace.
Derek followed a little behind Hannah, standing with his hands tucked into his pockets.
The young man looked uncharacteristically subdued, his shoulders slumped and his mouth set in a grim line.
She knew that Ethan resented Derek for taking his father from him, but she couldn’t help but think Derek likely hadn’t had it so easy, either.
It’s not as though he’d wanted to steal Ethan’s father from him, Grace imagined.
Did Derek ever resent his father for making everything so difficult amongst the three of them?
“Your brother was teaching Emily the names of all the flowers,” Grace told them.
Hannah smiled. “He used to pick flowers with me when I was a girl. We liked to make bouquets for Ma to try and cheer her up.”
“Did it work?” Derek asked quietly, something like regret in his voice.
Hannah furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. She was…she was always sad. Unusually so, for years.” Grace could sense the tension thicken between the two siblings, what was being left unspoken in the admission that Grace and Ethan’s mother was so desperately sad for so long.
“You should join us,” Hannah said, looking up at Derek from next to Grace.
Derek shrugged. “I don’t know that I should.”
He looked to Ethan, who for a few minutes did not seem to realize that he was being watched.
Grace wondered if Derek was waiting for his permission, or something of the sort.
At last, Ethan looked up and saw them. Derek looked at Ethan with a respectful kind of caution, as if he’d just found himself staring down a massive boar.
“Derek,” he said. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“I suppose not.” He then sat beside Hannah and seized a handful of flowers. Hannah laughed.
“Now you must try to make something of them! Be thoughtful!”
“I’m making a necklace like Grace,” Derek said, a little petulantly.
“I am making a crown,” Grace informed him carefully. “For Emily.”
Derek hummed and attempted to tie two stems together, but when he pulled too hard, one of the stems snapped.
He wrinkled his nose and plucked another flower.
Ethan soon joined them, arranging a small bouquet of pink and white flowers in his large, calloused hands.
She couldn’t help but notice how careful he was with the delicate stems and little buds.
Grace smiled, fully at peace for the first time in as long as she could remember.
“Look!” Emily exclaimed, bounding over to them with her flowers, bright pink and white with their green stems all bent and askew, poking between Emily’s tiny fingers at every angle. “Look at my flowers!”
“They’re lovely, dear,” Grace said, gazing fondly at the small bouquet.
Emily grinned, and Grace pulled the little girl into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her daughter’s head.
They were not yet in Oregon, and there would be plenty of hardship to come before they made it there, but in this moment, Grace felt as if nothing could go wrong.