Page 31 of A Late-Blooming Rose
Delia gestured. “Everyone is on tenterhooks waiting for news. The days have passed so slowly. Having you here, conversing with you, will help take our minds off what might be happening…has already happened to our sheriff and her men. Under normal circumstances, I’d host a tea party and invite my friends, so you could meet some of the women of our community.”
Delia let out a long sigh. “I’m going to hope and pray I can still do so once this ordeal is over and everyone is home safe.”
Rose was full of questions, and she knew from Cora’s expression that her niece was, too. But she could think of no tactful way to ask.
Tilda and Milliana entered, each carrying two dessert plates. They took up the dinner plates and set down thick wedges of chocolate cake. “Sam’s returned with your luggage. He and Rufus are carrying the trunks to your room.”
Andre smiled at Rose and gestured toward the cake. “Your favorite.”
“Of course.” She took a bite, savoring the rich, chocolaty taste.
The conversation lapsed, as each one enjoyed their dessert.
After hearing the tragic news and seeing the impact on Andre and Delia, as well as partaking of a fine meal catered to her tastes, Rose couldn’t maintain her resentment with the man, and she gave him a genuine smile. “Do you still have the same cook?”
“You can tell?” His eyes brightened with apparent pleasure.
“Everything tastes the same as I remember.” For the first time, Rose didn’t avoid his gaze, maintaining eye contact and feeling a flutter in her stomach.
Delia caught her father’s eye. “Papa,” she said in a warning tone. “The library.”
What about the library?
Andre’s gaze slid away from Rose. He sighed and folded his napkin, tucking the edge underneath his plate, before giving her a concerned glance. “I do have something to confess.” He hesitated.
Delia lifted her chin in ago-ongesture.
He still avoided Rose’s eyes. “The library isn’t finished yet.”
“Finished?” Rose echoed, not quite believing what she’d just heard.
“Actually….” He stopped.
“Actually,” Delia took up the sentence. “The building is not yetbegun.”
Andre frowned at his daughter. “Construction has begun.”
“Plans are drawn.” Delia glanced at Rose. “There’s a hole in the ground filled with rainwater. Unfortunately, that’s thebasement, not apond.”
Betrayal and anger made Rose’s stomach drop. “I’ve traveled all the way out here, and no job exists?”Without a salary, we’ll have to stay in this house with Andre. Accepting his charity.
The thought galled her, and she suddenly understood the poor but proud residents of Sweetwater Springs. She couldn’t, justcouldn’tstay here.But I can’t go back to New York, either.
Andre held up a hand. “I didn’t say there wasn’t a job. There’s definitely employment for you. There’s the task of collecting books, cataloguing books….”
“But where shall we put them? Without even peeking into your library, Andre, I know the shelves arefullto overflowing.” Rose waved toward the parlor. “Delia’s shelves are also full.” Then she remembered the empty bookcase in her bedroom and wondered if that’s where the books would go.Surely that’s not enough space?
He raised a hand in placation. “One of the benefits of having a newly built home, not one that’s been lived in for generations, is plenty of room remains in the attics. The place has insulation, isn’t dusty, or full of odds and ends. There’s electric light as well as windows. We keep our trunks and suitcases there, of course. But there’s plenty of space for books. In fact, I’ve already stored some crates of extra books there. You’ll see what we have, what we lack, and what we need, and you’ll catalogue the volumes and compile lists.”
Only slightly mollified, Rose leaned back in her chair. “I’d like to see the library plans.”
“I’ll show them to you after we’re finished eating. I’ve been corresponding with Andrew Carnegie. Luckily, he was already an acquaintance, although I had no idea when I left New York that I’d need his advice, or I would have pursued the relationship more. However, he’s been quite helpful. Might as well learn from his mistakes.”
“Mr. Carnegie certainly has enough experience building libraries.” Rose always admired the philanthropist for that.
“Several hundred at his last count.”
“How long will building the library take?”
