Page 12 of A Secret Heart
She took another bite of biscuit. What about the other women who’d write? Other letters would come to the box at the newspaper office, no doubt.
No matter. She’d decide what to do about that when another letter came across her desk.
She popped the last bite of the biscuit into her mouth, then licked the jam from her fingers. She’d write her letter, then drop the reply in the box at the office as soon as enough time had passed for a nearby town’s mail to have arrived.
If her plan worked, she’d be Mrs. McGraw before next spring.
* * *
It’d been over a week since Ed had made that promise to Vess Boutwell, and it wasn’t getting any easier to keep. The wagon’s wheels rumbled against the rough road as it swayed on his way back from another trip to Calvin to retrieve Rebekah from the newspaper office. The constant rolling and lurching left Ed bumping against his quieter-than-usual companion. Not that he was complaining. He had more than enough on his mind without Rebekah adding a constant stream of chatter as the miles stretched along.
Jeb Nelson had met him in town with another order for a cradle. Even if Jeb hadn’t been insistent about Ed taking the job for his friend, Ed still would have agreed to the order. Nothing in him wanted to refuse a chance to create with wood beneath his hands. But whether he had time remained to be seen. He hadn’t counted on a response to Isaac’s ad so soon. He’d hoped to have a little more time before he had to take care of the whole mail-order bride thing. Maybe Drew would write the woman back, and Ed would be free of that chore. Or Drew might insist Ed do that too. Should he even bring the letter up to Drew? Should he let Jeb know he didn’t really have time for the cradle?
Another jostle of the wagon bumped Ed’s shoulder against Rebekah. She all but jumped in her attempt to scoot away.
“You all right? You been jumpy as a cat the entire ride.”
It wasn’t like he wanted to be here either. He’d rather be in his workshop, but Drew had claimed to be too busy today to see to Rebekah’s trip from town.
“I feel as if my insides have been wrung across a washboard.” She reached out to grip the side of the wagon as it lilted again. “I’ve been rocking back and forth for hours without a word of conversation. What has you so silent?”
She blamed him? He ground his teeth. She’d been quiet too.
“Work.” And he didn’t want to talk about it. Drew had decided the barn and chicken coop needed deep cleaning now that the weather had warmed. Ed had been knee-deep in dirty hay all yesterday while Drew and David had painted the outside of the barn. Nothing in him wanted to make conversation, but he couldn’t stand any more of her nerves. “Everything okay at the farm? Quade leaving you alone?”
“Not that again.” Rebekah huffed, then reached down to gather up her workbag. She’d scooted as far to the edge of the seat as possible without falling off. “No need to pull into the drive. You can drop me here at the road.”
What had he said?Jumpy as a catmight have been an understatement. Ed pulled up on the reins as she leaned over the bench to retrieve her satchel—which resulted in her almost falling headfirst into the back of the wagon.
She spun to face him, eyes flashing.
He shrugged, widening his eyes innocently. “You asked me to let you out here.”
“I didn’t say throw me onto the side of the road.” Rebekah sounded as mad as a wet hen.
Ed had to bite down to keep from laughing. Served her right after the parting comment she’d thrown at him the other day. “I had to stop the horses. How was I to know you would turn around and lean over like that?”
No reply was hurled his way. Only a fiery glare as she eased down from the side of the wagon. Her hand flew to her head to right her hat, then she offered him a forced sort of smile. “You’re still the same boy from the classroom. You haven’t matured a bit since your thirteen-year-old self.”
Even if his brain—so easily muddled by her—had a reply, it’d do him no good. She sped toward her home with one hand on her hat and the other clutching her luggage. Next time he took her to town, maybe he’d take one of the children along. That would give them both someone more pleasant to talk to.
Ed clucked at the horses. Never mind Rebekah. He had more important things to think about. Like whether to finally talk to Drew about his proposed furniture business. Or at the least, ask him for more time away from the never-ending list of McGraw chores, starting with Isaac’s ad. The letter demanding an answer all but burned a hole in Ed’s pocket as he rounded the drive in front of Drew’s place.
A faint hue of orange still clung to the darkening western sky as Ed unhitched the horses from the wagon.
“Good. You’re back.” From the terseness in Drew’s tone, there’d likely be a request for one task or another. What would Drew do if Ed dared to say no?
“Never reckoned how much time running Rebekah back and forth would take when I promised Vess. I don’t suppose David could take her into town?” Ed hung the last of the tack on the wall after leading the horses to their stalls. He shot Drew a glance over his shoulder, gauging his reaction. It was a long shot, but he’d take it.
“He’s a bit too young for that responsibility. Besides, you were the one that promised.” Drew eyed him as he gathered up tools and placed them in the back of the wagon Ed had parked in the barn. “I noticed a stretch of fence between us and the Boutwells’ is wobbling. Damage may even go farther along their property line. We’d best go repair it in the morning.”
Ed stared as Drew continued loading the supplies for the fencing project as if the case was closed. They already had a portion of fence to fix elsewhere. He lifted his arm to run his fingers through his hair. The paper in his pocket crinkled. Might as well out with it.
“Got a response to Isaac’s ad.” Ed stepped closer to help hoist a roll of barbed wire into the wagon.
“You read it?” Drew stepped back to wipe his forehead with a kerchief.
“Skimmed it. It sounded nice.” The flowery words might be too nice for Isaac, but who knew what his brother really wanted? Ed picked the letter out of his pocket. “Want to see it?”
