Page 70 of Beyond Montana's Sky
I’m so grateful you warned me about your sister-in-law, so I was on my guard. I’m afraid time and motherhood haven’t mellowed Eugenia. She was just as dreadful as you described, while being sweetly condescending.
Your brother, on the other hand, displayed more redeeming qualities.
Edith stopped to reconsider her words, for what she’d written was really quite rude. But Elizabeth hadn’t beaten about the bush when describing her family, so hopefully her friend would appreciate the honesty. She dipped her pen into the inkwell.
I met Eugenia at Aunt Agatha’s tea party, where she introduced herself as your sister-in-law, made some disparaging comments about Sweetwater Springs, and then invited me to their ball, which I attended last night.
While there, I had a lovely discussion with your friend Sylvia Markham, who was eager to hear news of both you and Pamela. I quite liked her and look forward to forming a friendship. By the way, Sylvia told me Eugenia changed the parlor to reflect her “wretched taste” (except the portrait of you and Laurence remains) but the drawing rooms have stayed the same. (I just realized you probably already know these details from Sylvia’s letters.)
Laurence sought me out to hear more about you—concerned (as a good brother should be) that you’re happy. I assured him that you were and also that his niece, Carol, is the prettiest little girl, second only in beauty to my dear Charlotte.
While Laurence is apparently still fond of his wife, I could tell he misses you, grieves the separation, and wishes he could see Carol.
I took it upon myself to invite him to Sweetwater Springs, and while I could see he was tempted, he said Eugenia claimed she wasn’t up to the journey. Sylvia and I both knew that wasn’t true, but your brother appeared to believe her protestations.
On the point of mentioning Eugenia’s pregnancy, Edith caught herself. That news wasn’t hers to convey.
Edith hesitated about whether to add more about what she’d experienced so far in Boston, and then decided on honesty. Elizabeth would understand.
The transition to living in Boston is harder than I expected. I never realized how rooted I’d become in Sweetwater Springs. My values have changed, too. For the better, I believe.
Although I didn’t come out and say so at Delia Norton’s tea party, I would like to marry again. So far, no man in particular has caught my fancy. But it’s early days yet, and I’m still hopeful. If you or Pamela can think of any suitable candidates from among your acquaintances here, please let me know.
I haven’t been the best of friends, I know. Actually, not a friend at all. But somehow, your friendship found me. Now (with a few exceptions, whom I’m sure you can guess) I miss all my friends in Sweetwater Springs.
Please give my regards to Pamela, Samantha—oh, my goodness, I could write a list, but I won’t. You know everyone I’m thinking of.
Warmest wishes,
Edith Grayson
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A cold wind blew Cai into the kitchen, and he quickly closed the door behind him, inhaling the scent of baking bread. He eyed several golden loaves lined up on the table, and his stomach growled.
Mormorpulled another batch from the oven and set the loaves on a rack to cool.
Without stopping to remove his outerwear, Cai picked up a knife and sawed off the heel on the nearest loaf. “Awfully quiet in here. Where is everyone?” Usually several of the Anderson wives helped on baking day. Some baked, while others cooked the day’s meals. He took a bite, enjoying the scent of yeast and familiar taste of warm bread.
“Millie and Liza are teaching the children. Sarah’s Mary-Elsa and Ole-Davy are sick, so she’s home with them. Alice isn’t feeling well, either. Ruth needs to stay off her sprained ankle. Dorcus and Martha rode out with food for their husbands.”
“That’s right. They’re checking the fence lines in the north pasture.”
Mormormoved over to the sink to wash and dry her hands. “We need more women around here. It’s more than time for your lot to marry.”
His thoughts flew to Edith. He couldn’t imagine her baking bread withMormor. “There are plenty of women around here.”
“I want some great-grandchildren.”
He waved a hand toward the east. “You have great-grandchildren in Concord. Half-a dozen, remember? Go visit them.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it. I miss having babies aroundhere.”
Do we really not have babies?Seems like there’d been babies and toddlers underfoot all his life. ButMormorwas right. None of the third-generation men living at the ranch were married. He wistfully wondered if he’d ever have babies to contribute to the Anderson pack.
“You need to stop moping around here, Cai Driscoll, and fetch your sweetheart home.”
He leaned a hip against the table. “What do you expect me to do, throw Edith over my shoulder and abscond with her?”
