Page 11 of A Secret Heart
Tillie stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “But I want to help.”
“There now, Tillie, hold this one for me.” Kaitlyn offered a soft smile at Rebekah, then slid half the papers into her own hands, slowly doling them out to Tillie.
Finished placing the papers, Rebekah wrapped her hand in a dish towel before gripping the pot full of melted paraffin. She carefully poured it over the papers settled in the jars. The wax would harden to seal the jam.
“Together, we’ve done a fine job. Your aunt will be proud to find all these preserves when she returns.” Kaitlyn beamed at Rebekah while giving Tillie a little side hug. “I’m pleased you’re showing such an interest in domestic skills these days.”
Rebekah nodded, slipping the heavy canning pot into the sudsy water they’d prepared earlier. The scalding water had cooled to a tepid temperature but was still warm enough to scour the pots. She’d helped Aunt Opal with canning before, but never with enthusiasm for anything other than tasting the sweet jam at the end. A glimpse of the ads all arranged on the front-room table reminded her why she wanted to improve her domestic skills. If Isaac wanted a wife who could cook, she’d not disappoint him.
“Can I help some more?”
From the corner of her eye, Rebekah spied Tillie reaching up for a towel to help dry.
“Take this damp rag to wipe the counters.” Kaitlyn had settled into the role of mother for Drew’s children without a fuss.
When Rebekah felt Kaitlyn’s gaze shifted to her, she feigned being invested in scrubbing the canning pot to a shine.
“I imagine you’re missing your aunt and uncle.”
“Things are different with them gone. Their absence makes the night so quiet that all the noises are louder.” The old gate out by the barn had blown in the wind last night, keeping her awake. Being awake left her time to think about her options. Too much time.
Finished with the dishwashing, Rebekah helped Kaitlyn dry the pots and utensils as Tillie occupied herself pushing the washcloth over the counters.
Kaitlyn focused on the table full of ads in the other room as she dried a wooden spoon. “I think you might want to know?—”
A sudden crash from behind, followed by Tillie’s sharp cry, halted whatever Kaitlyn had been about to say. The swiping washrag must have caught a jar of the jelly and flung it off the countertop. It hadn’t broken the glass, simply spattered jam across a startled Tillie and onto the floor. Large tears slipped down her cheeks as the girl froze in place.
“There, there. We’ll have this cleaned in no time.” Kaitlyn’s gentle words soothed the crying Tillie as Rebekah helped clean the mess of jam from the floor. As Tillie’s tears slowed, Kaitlyn caught Rebekah’s gaze. “Let me help you with this mess.”
At Kaitlyn’s words, Tillie stifled her crying, moving tentatively with her stepmother. Rebekah continued her scrubbing, determined to get the jam off the floor without getting it on her clothes. She moved in a careful pattern. Kaitlyn kneeled close by, motioning for Tillie to follow her lead. After a few swipes of working in tandem, Tillie tried to wring out her “helper” rag, leaving more water on the floor than jam.
Where did Kaitlyn get her patience? “This way, Tillie.” Rebekah lowered her rag softly, then ran it in a circular motion.
Splat. Tillie’s landed with a plop, then zigzagged as she worked. “This way?”
Rebekah bit back a retort as Kaitlyn moved in to guide Tillie only to have a splotch of jam fly her way. She swallowed hard. “I know you’ll want to scrub those stains out of Tillie’s dress sooner rather than later. Raspberries don’t come out easily. And you two are tired. I’ll finish up here.”
“Are you sure?” Kaitlyn paused to study her, then reached over to gently gather up Tillie’s rag with her own. A blessed yawn from Tillie only proved Rebekah’s point.
“I am.”
Kaitlyn rose, Tillie close by her side, and added the rags they’d been using to Rebekah’s stack by the washbasin. “I’ve enjoyed our time together this afternoon. We need to visit more often.”
“So have I.” She wrapped her friend in an embrace, then pulled away before Tillie could grasp her with a hand still smudged with jam.
As Kaitlyn looped her hand in Tillie’s, tenderness filled her eyes. “You’re welcome to join us for meals anytime. No need to stay here all alone.”
What if Isaac were to show up? What would Rebekah say if he did? Things were muddled in her head. Besides, if she went, she’d have to stay a bit, even if Isaac didn’t show up. Which wouldn’t get her work done. Even worse, she might have to endure Ed’s presence all evening.
“Thank you, but I have work to finish before my next trip to town.” Rebekah reached for Tillie’s other hand, careful of her sticky fingers, while walking with them onto the small porch. Another embrace, and Kaitlyn offered one last wave before they turned to hurry away.
The woman was a saint, so patient with the girl.
Back inside, Rebekah wrung out another rag for one last wipe over the floorboards. From many years’ experience, she knew that if she wanted something done correctly, it was up to her to take care of it. Just like this floor.
When she was finished cleaning up, she snatched a biscuit left over from their lunch and spread fresh jam over it. Snack in hand, she made her way to the ads on the front-room table, each one a lonely person’s plea for the one who would fulfill them. Her eyes lighted on Isaac’s ad. He needed someone. Why not her?
Rebekah sank into a chair at the table, then pulled out pen and paper from her workbag. If she wanted a real chance at marrying Isaac McGraw, this was it. She’d already tried everything else. She’d worn her prettiest dress when she’d expected him at church, made a point of bumping into him on the boardwalk when he’d been between jobs with the marshals, had even agreed to go caroling once—to no avail. But she was a wordsmith. This she could do. She’d woo him with her letters. Pen gripped in her hand, she paused.
