Where Love Dwells (20 page)

“Surprise!” they cried.

She dropped the broom and clapped her hand to her heart to keep it from leaping straight out of her chest as her son charged forward and swooped her off her feet. “Benjamin Michael Garrett! Put me down!”

He ignored her protests and swung her around.

“What are you doing? Benjamin!”

“I'm making up for the last six years,” he teased and wrapped her in a bear hug. “I've missed you.”

She hugged him back. “Oh, how I've missed you, son. You're as ornery as ever, though, aren't you?” Now a strapping man in the prime of his life, he had features weathered by the sun and muscles hardened by heavy work on his farm. She was struck by how much he had changed since he had married Betsy and moved to Ohio with her family to farm, but his zest for life was still shining in the depths of his blue eyes.

He grinned back at her and released her. “I do my best,” he said and studied her. “Were you expecting company?”

“Why?” she said as she caught her breath and straightened her skirts.

“You're not wearing your work apron, and I don't believe I've ever seen you wearing jewelry before. Is that a new pin or one I've simply forgotten?”

She fingered her pin and smiled. “It's new. A gift from a friend,” she ventured, reluctant to tell him within minutes of arriving that she was planning to marry again.

He cocked a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “A friend?”

“His name is Zachary Breckenwith.”

“Your lawyer.”

“He was,” she replied and realized Benjamin was not going
to be satisfied until he had the full story. “He's proposed, and I've accepted his proposal, although we haven't set a date yet to be married,” she told him. “He'll never take the place of your father, Benjamin, but—”

He placed a finger to her lips for a moment. “You have a right to be happy again,” he offered. “When do I get to meet him?”

She smiled. “He's coming for dinner.”

“Good,” he announced and tugged on her hand. “Until then, there are some grandchildren waiting to meet you, and Betsy and I want a grand tour of Hill House, assuming you'll let a bunch of ordinary farm folks into that mansion sitting up there on the hill.”

“It's just a boardinghouse,” she argued. She took his hand and walked with him toward the gazebo, wondering how she could ever have all of her children and grandchildren for a visit if she lived in Zachary's much smaller home.

“Those three grandchildren you're staring at don't sit still much. I hope the house is good and sturdy.”

Emma heard him but kept her gaze and her thoughts locked on the three little faces staring back at her. She stopped in front of them and looked up at her daughter-in-law. “Oh, Betsy. They're all so sweet, and you look so well. Being a farmer's wife certainly agrees with you.”

Betsy smiled at her husband. “Being this farmer's wife does.”

“And who do we have here?” Emma asked and scrunched down so she was at eye level with the little boy and his two sisters.

“I'm Teddy. I'm a five-year-older, and I'm the biggest,” the boy said proudly.

She smiled. He had that same hint of orneriness in his eyes as his father. “Yes, you are. I'm your grandmother Emma, and I understand that you like molasses cookies.”

He nodded and nudged his sister with his elbow. “Sally's a girl. She doesn't like molasses cookies.”

Sally pouted. “Yes I do,” she insisted and tossed her head, setting ringlets of auburn hair dancing.

“But I'm a girl, and molasses cookies are my favorite,” Emma said.

Teddy shook his head. “You're not a girl. You're a grandma. Do you have any molasses cookies for me?”

“Don't be impolite,” Betsy cautioned.

“As a matter of fact, there's a whole plate of cookies for dessert, but we have to eat dinner first,” Emma replied and turned to the youngest child. At eighteen months, she still had baby-fat cheeks. Two blue ribbons held her dark, wispy hair out of her face. “Hello, Winnie. Did your mama put those ribbons in your hair for you?”

The toddler's bottom lip started quivering, and she turned and immediately reached up to her mother.

“I'm sorry. She's a bit shy around strangers,” Betsy whispered. The moment she lifted Winnie into her arms, the little one buried her face against her shoulder.

“We won't be strangers very long, sweetie,” Emma crooned and felt a tug on her heart. She would not have been a stranger to any of her grandchildren if her sons had not moved away from Candlewood, but she felt blessed to be with them now and only wished Jonas could have been here with them, too. She was also struck by Zachary's suggestion that if she did not have to work day and night to accommodate guests here, she might be able to travel to see them as often as she liked, which certainly tilted her thoughts in his favor.

She stood up, set those thoughts aside, eased the kinks out of her legs, and smiled down at the children. “I think your cousins
Jonas and Paul might be up from their naps by now. Let's go see, so you can meet them.”

“Not before we get these goats back in their pen,” Benjamin argued.

“Can't you just tie them up again and let them graze?”

He laughed. “Not unless you want to go searching for them. That pen's too small for them, too. You'd be better served to fence in this whole area.”

“Or get rid of the goats,” Emma grumbled.

“I'll get them into the pen for now. I've got our wagon parked just off the main road, but I'll worry about that later.”

Teddy and Sally scrambled off the bench and ran out of the gazebo to help him. When the goats were secure again, they all made their way to the steps.

“Then Mark's here?” Benjamin asked.

“He and Catherine arrived a bit earlier than we'd planned. They've brought Catherine's niece, Wryn, with them.”

“What about Warren?”

“He should be here tomorrow or the next day, at the latest,” Emma said, then stopped abruptly when she realized Benjamin's surprise would have been ruined if Mother Garrett had been the one to go searching for the goats. “Did your grandmother have anything to do with surprising me today?”

Benjamin shook his head. “No, that was all our idea.”

Betsy chuckled. “No, it was all your
son's
idea.”

“Then why don't you surprise her, too?” Emma suggested.

Benjamin grinned. “Grams still rules the kitchen, I assume. Where's that?”

“At the top of the steps, you'll reach a patio. The double doors will take you into the dining room. The kitchen is right through the second door to your right.”

Before she could say anything more, he was bounding up the steps. By the time they reached the patio, following after him, she heard Mother Garrett squealing. Emma smiled and tucked yet another precious memory deep into her heart.

18

D
INNER HAD HELD
as many joys as it did disappointments. Although Zachary had joined them, as expected, Reverend Glenn was feeling poorly and Aunt Frances had stayed home to watch over him. Surrounded at the table by so many of her loved ones, Emma's contentment could only have been more complete if Warren and his family had been there.

Wryn's absence at the table, however, still troubled her.

Emma played hide-and-seek with her grandchildren on the patio until the children were tuckered out and everyone dispersed. Betsy and Catherine took the three youngest children upstairs for their naps while Benjamin and Mark took Teddy and Sally with them down to the plateau to decide how best to accommodate the three nanny goats, who were still nameless. Once Mother Garrett shooed Liesel and Ditty back to the kitchen, Emma finally had a few moments alone with Zachary.

She stood beside him, hand in hand, at the stone wall overlooking the rear of her property watching her sons and grandchildren. “I think that might be Wryn sitting in the gazebo.”

He nodded. “She might come around faster if I talk with her.”

“Would you do that?”

“I think I have to,” he murmured. “From what you and Mark have told me, her situation at home worsened each time her mother remarried, which means she sees me as yet another threat. I need to make it clear to her that while I support her in her attempts to reconcile with her mother, I have no objections if she needs to make her home with us, albeit on a very, very temporary basis.”

“When did you plan on talking to her?” Emma asked, grateful for the support he was offering.

“I may as well take the opportunity right now, unless you had something else in mind for the afternoon,” he suggested.

“Actually, I was hoping I could stop and see how Reverend Glenn is faring. If I wait for you, we could go together.”

Zachary shook his head. “I'm not sure how long my conversation with Wryn might take. Why don't you go see the Glenns and meet me back at my house? Since you haven't seen anything other than my office, I'd like you to take a tour of the house before you make your decision to sell Hill House,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand.

Determined to be fair, she could not think of an excuse to put off the inevitable. “If your conversation with Wryn doesn't last very long, come to the Glenns', but if you're not there by the time I finish my visit, I'll meet you at your house,” she promised.

Emma lugged the goodies from Mother Garrett into Aunt Frances' kitchen. The late afternoon sunshine brightened the room, but it also shined doubt that Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn were going to be able to live there on their own.

“Just set your bag on the table, Emma dear, and don't mind the muss,” Aunt Frances said as she followed Emma into the room.
“With Reverend Glenn feeling poorly today and with my bones aching something fierce off and on, I haven't been able to keep up with my housekeeping.”

Emma took a quick glance around as she walked toward the kitchen table, kicking up a bit of dust and dirt along the way. Several pots on the cookstove needed scrubbing, and a pile of bed linens on the floor waited to be laundered. There were no dishes in the sink, but judging from the dishes stacked on the side tables, Aunt Frances had not stored her clean dishes away for several days.

She was dismayed by how quickly it had become apparent that Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn were not going to be able to care for themselves, as well as the cottage, on their own. Not without help.

By the time she'd set the canvas bag on the table, Aunt Frances was standing on the other side, her face bright with anticipation. “I don't mean to slight the good folks who sent a few meals over when we first took up housekeeping here, but I don't think I've had a really good meal since I left Hill House.”

Emma lifted out the tin of cookies on top and handed it to Aunt Frances and smiled, although she was disappointed to learn that the generosity of the members of the congregation had already waned. “I'm not sure how Mother Garrett managed to hide a few cookies from those grandchildren of mine, but she did.”

Aunt Frances peeked into the tin. “Molasses cookies!”

“There are sugar cookies in this one,” Emma said, then lifted out a good chunk of pumpernickel bread and a crock of vegetable soup. “This is what we had for dinner today. You and Reverend Glenn might enjoy this for supper.”

Aunt Frances moistened her lips. “We surely, surely will. Would you have time for a cup of tea? Reverend Glenn shouldn't be napping
for much longer, and I know he'd be very disappointed if you left before you had a chance to visit with him, too.”

“No, thank you. But if you'd like some tea—”

“Not particularly. I'd rather just sit and chat. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you,” Aunt Frances replied. She looked around the kitchen and frowned. “Why don't we go into the parlor, where there isn't so much muss?”

Emma slipped out of her cape and draped it across the back of one of the chairs. “Why don't you sit and rest while I tidy up a bit?”

Aunt Frances dropped her gaze and ran a finger round and round the rim of the tin of cookies she had just set back onto the table. “Did you ever make a mistake, Emma? I mean a really terrible mistake that kept you up at night, every night?”

Emma's throat tightened. The defeated form standing across the table from her bore little resemblance to the feisty woman who had shown up on her doorstep at Hill House last fall. Reluctant to admit, even to herself, she may have made a mistake by accepting Zachary's proposal before she knew of his expectations about their life together, she gripped the back of the chair in front of her. “I'm sure I have.”

When Aunt Frances looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. “I'm such an old fool,” she whispered.

Emma walked around the table and put her arm around the elderly woman's shoulders. “Now, why would you say something like that?”

“B-because it's true and because I just don't know what I'm going to do if Reverend Glenn finds out he's married to a . . . a foolish old woman who should have had better sense. . . .”

“You've got more good sense in a single hair on your head than most people, including me,” Emma said. “What's wrong?”

“If I tell you, you can't tell anyone. Not a soul,” Aunt Frances whispered. “Promise me you won't.”

“Not even Mother Garrett?” Emma asked, doubtful that Aunt Frances meant to exclude her mother-in-law, considering the strong friendship between the two elderly women.

Aunt Frances dropped her gaze for a moment. “Mercy's been so busy lately, she hasn't been to visit us, but I think she has an inkling of what's happening here. We talked about it some before I left Hill House, and you can tell her. But no one else. No one.”

Emma swallowed hard, anxious to get to the root of the trouble in Aunt Frances' life. “I promise.”