Page 35 of The Gift of Seeds
Hester smiled down into Lucy’s eager brown eyes. “Let’s go play.”
CHAPTER 11
Aheavy knock at his front door pulled Dale out ofLes Liliaceesand the comfort of his kitchen chair. He listened, wondering if he’d misheard. But the sound came again. He placed a bookmark between the pages he’d been studying and closed the book, setting it on the table next to his chair.
Who could possibly be calling in this weather?Dale thought of Miss Smith, and his heart thumped. He smoothed back his hair. Since the discovery of the dog, she hadn’t ventured over. Aside from his surreptitious visits to chop her firewood, neither had he gone to her house as he’d hinted to Andre.
He hustled down the hallway to the front, the soles of his worn slippers slapping on the wood floor. Hopefully, whoever was at the door didn’t expect to come inside and see him in his oldest warm clothes and lacking proper footwear.
Cracking open the door, so as not to let out the meager heat of the entryway, Dale saw Andre Bellaire standing with his houseguest, Rose Collier, a slender female with a fringe of brown hair showing under her warm hat.
He’d glimpsed the pair at church, the man bent attentively toward her with warmth in his eyes. But Dale didn’t expect to have to talk to her. He stiffened, bracing as he always did in the unexpected presence of a woman he didn’t know.
Relax, he tried to tell himself.
“Mr. Bellaire,” Dale said, startled, into addressing him formally. Face heating, he looked away from the pair.
Mr. Bellaire removed his bowler. “Mr. Marsden, Dale…if I may call you by your given name. Please pardon the intrusion.”
The man’s Southern drawl coaxed Dale into reluctantly raising his gaze. He envied the dapper man his effortless charm and nodding in acquiescence.
Behind the couple, he could see the Falabellas hitched to a sleigh.Ah, he took my advice.
Andre made a slight gesture toward the lady. “I’ve brought our new librarian, Miss Collier, to visit. I thought you’d like to meet her.”
The pair didn’t have the air of a courting couple. Perhaps the Falabella “magic” wasn’t working. As silly as the idea of midget horse magic seemed to Dale, he couldn’t help hoping for these two that love would bloom.
Still, Dale couldn’t yet meet the woman’s eyes. “Come in out of the cold.” He opened the door wider and moved aside to allow them to enter, his thoughts scattering about what to do with this unexpected company.Will they notice I haven’t dusted the parlor for a week? Should I serve tea? Wait, I used up the leaves a few days ago, and yesterday I ate the last of Mrs. Mueller’s cookies.
With a pang, he realized he could offer them hispetit fours.
They followed him a few steps through the wide square opening of the parlor, which, while large and nicely furnished, had an unlived-in look. No fire burned in the round stove situated in the corner, nor in the fireplace.
Seeing through their eyes, Dale realized the space lacked a sense of hospitality. The chill of the room forced him to stop, turn, and hold up his hands, giving Mr. Bellaire a helpless look. “Uh….”
“Perhaps the kitchen?” Miss Collier suggested.
This time, Dale gave an eager nod and briefly met her eyes. Then he paused, thinking about the daybed and the impropriety of entertaining guests there. “The parlor is more comfortable for guests.”
“On a winter day like this one, I think we’ll settle for warmth over comfort.” Miss Collier sent him a reassuring smile.
Only slightly relieved, he turned and moved down the hall, trying to walk so the soles of his slippers wouldn’t slap the floor. He led them past the staircase, with its stack of books and his overflowing basket of clean laundry, into the warmth of the kitchen.At least, I straightened up this morning.
He didn’t dare look too closely to see the condition of his wooden floor, which he hadn’t swept or mopped since last week.I should have listened more closely to my great-grandma’s ghost.
Remembering his rusty manners, Dale moved to the round table and pulled out a chair for Miss Collier.
She smiled and sat down.
Andre claimed another chair.
Sitting and waiting for them to speak, made Dale’s stomach tighten.This is so awkward.
Being unused to company, Dale continued to fret about whether he should offer them something. Too cozy in his house and planning for spring, he hadn’t bestirred himself to go to the mercantile, even when running low on certain supplies.Did one serve visitors coffee?He didn’t have any cream.What if Miss Collier wanted cream?He didn’t have any.
Uneasy, he flicked a look at Miss Collier and then down at his hands.
“I see you’re reading, Mr. Marsden,” she said in a gentle voice, indicatingLes Liliaceeson the table. “Is that a gardening book? I’m hoping the new library will offer a nice selection.”
