Page 5 of A Secret Heart
Rebekah shot a pleading look at her uncle, but his focus held on Ed. A man-to-man sort of stare-down, as if Ed owed him this and he was calling in his favors. Ed broke the stare.
“You McGraws have been good neighbors to us. But it’s not Drew’s promise I’m after. I’d like your word, Ed McGraw.”
Rebekah shifted her gaze from the men to the horses in an effort to control her rising frustration. Uncle Vess wouldn’t settle for anything but Ed’s promise.
A sigh from Ed filled the air. “No need to worry about a thing, sir. You have my word.”
Tired of waiting for Ed to offer her a hand up, Rebekah scrambled into the back of the wagon herself. Her shin clanged against the edge of the wagon, and pain shot up her leg, deepening her annoyance. She caught the twitch of Ed’s jaw before he nodded to a small container nestled in the hay. “Almost forgot. Kaitlyn sent a jar of jam for you.”
Rebekah hugged the gift from her friend close, smiling as she placed the jar in her satchel and settled herself beside her aunt atop the hay. The wagon jostled, and she looked behind her to the front of the wagon. Her gaze connected with Ed’s as he hoisted himself onto the seat. She felt her smile fading to match his expression, and she could almost read his mind.
It’s going to be a long summer.
And for once in her life, she agreed with him.
Chapter2
Almost…finished!
It’d only been two days since Ed had dropped Rebekah off in town.
One more line of type to set before Rebekah would be done for the day. The click of metal letters sliding into the composing stick created a pleasant tune to her ears.
The clock tower at the train station chimed once.
A wagon rattled to a stop outside the newspaper office in Calvin. Right on time to take her home after two days of preparing the paper to go out. Too bad her work prevented her from peeking around the stacks of papers strewn across the desks to see out the window facing the boardwalk. The window offered a perfect view of the boardwalk, the shops across the dirt lane that made up the main street, and the pedestrians she loved watching. For now, she had to settle for listening to the clop of hooves and the jingle of harnesses.
If Isaac were sitting atop the wagon seat instead of Ed, her week would be perfect. For years, she’d tried to stop the wild moment of heart pounding every time Isaac approached. She’d begun to simply accept it as part of who she was. Ever since her first sight of him, when she was only eleven, she’d fancied him. Never could seem to help it, even now. If only it’d been Isaac who’d promised Uncle Vess.
The bell above the newspaper office’s door jingled, followed by the even cadence of clomping boots across the planks of the printing office. A distinct pattern belonging to only one man in all of Calvin plunged her into the depths of disappointment. Twice this week, Ed had shown up where he shouldn’t have.
Rebekah rescued the composing stick from crashing to the ground as she spun to face him. “If you can wait for a minute or two, I’m almost finished.”
“Take all the time you need.” His clipped words didn’t hold the patience they implied. “If it’s not too late, I have an ad for the paper.”
She inhaled a slow breath of air in an attempt to ease her frustration before walking to the front counter. Any other neighbor might have asked about the weather or how she was faring with her family gone. Not Ed.
The sooty scent of the ink around her usually produced a calming effect of sorts, but it lost its power as the faint whiff of horse hung in the air. Isaac would have smelled like gunpowder, or so she imagined.
On her way to the front, she handed the composing stick to Mr. Sullivan. As she did, a curl escaped the pin holding her hair back. She dared not touch it for fear the ink on her fingers would color the tendrils. Her aunt was forever scolding her for coming home with ink-stained ringlets, telling her it ruined the glow of her beauty. For all Rebekah knew, another McGraw brother might be in town with Ed. That hope bolstered her spirits anew.
“An ad?” Rebekah arched one eyebrow as she spoke to Ed in a low tone. His white shirt bore scuff marks across the arms where he must have loaded items into the wagon earlier in the day.
“Morning, Mr. McGraw.” Mr. Sullivan, the proprietor ofThe Weekly Gazetteand Rebekah’s boss, called out from somewhere behind her as the press clacked back and forth with the printing.
Spinning his hat in his hands, Ed nodded at Mr. Sullivan before focusing his attention back on her. The twirling hat stopped. “It’s an ad for the matrimonial section.”
“The matrimonial section? You?” Both her brows flew up with the corners of her mouth. If only she had the strength to keep from bursting out in laughter in the presence of Mr. Sullivan. He’d scolded her more than usual lately about professionalism with the customers. But maybe Ed hadn’t taken notice of the incredulity in her tone.
Before her fingers could reach for a pencil to take down the ad, he pulled a folded-over piece of paper from his pocket. His jaw twitched.
“It’s for Isaac.” He slapped the paper on the desk, his gaze holding hers and his expression thunderous. He’d heard her all right. “I’ll be back to take you home after I load up the supplies at the general store.” His words were clipped.
Rebekah gulped back the aggravating tears pricking her eyes as she held his stare. His face wore no emotion as he placed coins on the counter to pay for the ad, then spun on his heels. His steps echoed heavier than usual as he exited.
“What did you do now, Rebekah?” Mr. Sullivan moved in behind her.
Sullivan’s words barely registered as Rebekah’s fingers lifted the paper. A faint whiff of coffee mixed with bacon drifted to her nostrils. She carefully unfolded what appeared to be an envelope, worn with time. Words were scrawled across the width of the yellowing paper.
