Where Love Dwells (22 page)

“My birthday falls on a weekday this year, which means you'll be here. We'll invite Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn to spend
the day with us, so that means Wryn would be here, too. There's only one slight hitch,” Emma ventured.

Mother Garrett cocked a brow. “You're gonna need Wryn's help in my kitchen, aren't you?”

Emma laughed. “We both know her faults, but from what Catherine tells me, Wryn knows her way around the kitchen especially well, considering she's only fifteen.”

“Which is more than you can say for yourself.”

“Very true.”

Mother Garrett sighed. “I suppose Catherine and Betsy wouldn't mind stepping in to help while they're here, but come May, there are your guests to consider. They wouldn't be likely to return for another visit if you prepared the meals while I'm gone.”

“Also very true,” Emma admitted, reluctant to tell her mother-in-law about the possibility that Hill House might have a new owner by May.

“Then I suppose I'll have to agree. For Frances' sake and for Reverend Glenn's sake,” she relented. “But if I come back here Sunday night to find my larder in disarray, there won't be a safe place for that young lady to hide.”

“Very, very true,” Emma replied, planting a kiss on her mother-in-law's cheek and ushering her to the door. “Go get your rest. I'm expecting Wryn any moment.” When she opened the door, she saw Wryn coming down the hall.

Mother Garrett slipped the tins of licorice into her apron pockets and leaned close. “Come see me after she's left. I won't say my prayers until you do, just in case I have to add a few to ask the good Lord to send a few strong angels to stand guard over my kitchen when I'm not there,” she whispered.

Still trying to absorb her conversation with Mother Garrett, Emma welcomed Wryn into her room. The young woman's
expression was guarded, although her demeanor was just as reserved as it had been through supper—until she saw the items displayed on Emma's bed.

“Holding court tonight?” she quipped as she walked over to the bed.

“No. Discussing family matters,” Emma said. “Would there be an apology forthcoming for your flippant remark or do I have to—”

“No, I'm . . . I'm sorry,” Wryn said.

“Good. I accept your apology,” Emma replied, then waved her arm over the bed. “I need your help. Between the two of us, we need to decide what to do about these.”

Wryn stiffened. “Am I supposed to offer to humble myself and beg the shopkeepers to take them back?”

“That's one option, but before we talk about others, I'm curious. I know what you gave to the Glenns, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to tell me who you had in mind to receive each of the other gifts.”

Wryn shrugged. “I suppose so.”

Although Emma was tempted to prompt Wryn to say more, she waited. And waited.

Eventually, when the silence grew as thick as a heavy fog that threatened to cloud their meeting together, Wryn pointed to the two chocolate boxes. “I bought those for Aunt Betsy and Aunt Anna. I thought they could share them with their families, since I don't know them very well.”

Emma cringed. “Oh. That's a problem now, isn't it?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Wryn's lips. “Only if you decide to let me give them their gifts.”

“What about the needles and thread?” Emma asked quickly to change the subject.

Wryn shrugged. “They were for me.”

“So not everything you bought were gifts?”

“Obviously not. What happened to the licorice root? Did you eat that, too, or were those bulges in Mother Garrett's apron what I think they were?” she snapped, blushed, and moistened her lips. “I mean . . . no, they weren't,” she added in a tone of voice close enough to respectful that Emma could not find fault.

“I gave the licorice root to Mother Garrett, which means, in all fairness, that it won't be tallied up to you. The same applies to the boxes of chocolate. And you don't have to worry about the beef jerky, either. Butter ate it all.”

Wryn nodded and pointed to the box holding the bonnet. “That one was for you. I figured you needed a new one, since the one you were wearing the morning I met you got ruined in the rain.”

“It isn't ruined, just a bit broken in,” Emma argued.

Wryn cocked her head.

“I can still wear it when I'm working around the yard,” she added. “Since you picked out a bonnet for me, would you like to show it to me?”

As Wryn was untying the ribbon holding the lid to the box, Emma held her breath, since she had no way of knowing this young woman's taste. With images of the garish costume she had fixed for herself the other day, she held out little hope the bonnet would be anything she might have picked out for herself.

Until Wryn lifted the bonnet out from the box.

Instead of choosing a fancy bonnet Emma would wear to Sunday meeting or other special occasions, Wryn had picked out a plain wide-brimmed straw bonnet with wide, dark green ribbons that would tie into a simple but striking bow when she wore it.

“I was going to give it to you for your birthday. You need a bonnet that won't fly off when you're riding, and the lady at the
shop said the color of the ribbons would match your cape,” Wryn offered as she handed the bonnet to Emma.

“Yes, they would. It's perfect, although I'd have to make certain it wouldn't rain when I wore it,” Emma murmured. She smiled and reluctantly handed it back to Wryn. “Be careful when you put it into the box again.”

Wryn frowned. “I suppose I'll have to return this one.”

“Put it in your room for now, along with the shawl and the knife you bought for the Glenns, although I wouldn't expect you to keep the bonnet in the end,” Emma replied. “If you'd still like to give them as gifts, there's a way you could work off the cost.”

Wryn set the bonnet back into the box very carefully, replaced the lid, and started retying the ribbon to hold it closed. “Is that the other option you wanted to discuss?”

“It's the only one I have at the moment, although I'd be willing to listen if you have another one.”

When Wryn shrugged, Emma noticed the usual chip on her shoulder was not there, at least for now. “You've been to visit Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn,” she began.

“Quite a few times. They're nice to me. Why?”

Emma chose her words carefully to avoid breaking Aunt Frances' confidence. “I'm concerned about them. They're up in years and living alone has presented certain challenges.”

“Like keeping the cottage clean?”

Emma lifted her brows.

Wryn rolled her eyes. “What? Was that too flippant?”

“No, merely more insightful than I expected,” Emma admitted.

When Wryn's posture relaxed, Emma continued. “We consider Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn to be part of our family. Since Liesel and Ditty are able to give me the help I need here to keep
Hill House operating smoothly, I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to do chores for me at the Glenns' to work off what you owe me for the purchases you made. I'll explain to them that this is an arrangement we've made between the two of us. I don't want their feelings to be hurt. Understood?”

“Understood. Would I live there, too?” Wryn asked, her gaze troubled.

“No, you'd still live here with me. After breakfast each day, you could go to the Glenns' and do what chores needed to be done. I'd expect you to be home by suppertime, and you'd have your evenings to yourself.”

“What about the weekends? Would I still be off, like Liesel and Ditty?”

Emma drew in a long breath. “No. Mother Garrett is getting on in years now, too. Starting this weekend, she'll be off. I suspect she'll be spending a lot of time visiting Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn, but she'll be back here each night, just like you will. That means I'll need your help here.”

Wryn's eyes sparkled. “You need me to help cook?”

“Yes.”

“In Mother Garrett's kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'll do it, but I won't need your help. I can cook the meals by myself,” Wryn pronounced, almost gleeful.

Emma stifled a chuckle, although she suspected there would be more than an occasional outburst between her mother-in-law and this young woman. “You'll keep in mind that Mother Garrett will still be in charge of the kitchen. She won't tolerate coming home to find her kitchen a mess.”

“And I won't be happy if she leaves me a mess, either. Did you
want me to start in the morning?” she asked as she began to gather up the gifts to take back to her room.

Emma slid the boxes that had held the chocolates under her bed. “No, I need to see Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn first to see if they'd be willing to let you come each day. If they are, you can start the following day.”

She noticed the beaded reticule as Wryn gathered it up. “We never talked about that. Are you planning on returning it?”

Wryn fingered the beads. “No, not yet.”

“Can you tell me who it was for?”

“My mother,” Wryn whispered and slipped out of the room carrying her gifts and a piece of Emma's heart.

20

A
FTER A FITFUL SLEEP,
Emma dressed for the day and stood at her bedroom window at first light the following morning to watch the sun begin to chase the night away.

She rested the side of her head against the window frame and stared out at the canal slicing through the landscape just below the horizon. She hoped Warren and his family would arrive today, completing the circle of family who had gathered in Candlewood for her birthday. Later this morning, she would visit with Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn to ask them to have Wryn complete her punishment by doing chores for them. In turn, she hoped they would each have a positive influence on the young woman. With Mark and Catherine leaving the day after her birthday, along with her other sons and their families, she had real doubts Wryn would be returning to Albany with them and assumed she might have to remain here in Candlewood.

She let out a sigh and fingered the gold rose she had pinned to the collar of the dark brown gown she had chosen to wear today. Covering the pin with her fingers, she closed her eyes. She had never thought she would be blessed again with the affection and
companionship of a spouse, but marrying Zachary would change her life in ways she'd never had to consider before. When she had married Jonas, he had understood that she would continue family tradition and operate the General Store, just as her mother and grandmother had done, and he would be her helpmate, just as her father and grandfather had been to their wives.

Family tradition, however, had ended when Emma and Jonas had only sons. After her husband died and all her sons married and settled far from Candlewood, she had had no reason to hesitate when she had the opportunity later to sell the General Store and establish Hill House as a boardinghouse.

She had no tradition to consider when marrying Zachary, but she still believed God had led her here to Hill House for a purpose. The life Zachary offered to her now was tempting, but until she discovered how she might serve Him in that life and until she understood which path He wanted her to follow, she was reluctant to leave here.

For his part, Zachary had given her an ultimatum of sorts: Give up Hill House to marry him or remain here at Hill House without him.

She could only pray that the man who had stolen her heart would give her time.

Time for her to pray for God's guidance.

Time for Him to reveal His own purpose for Hill House.

And time for His plans for her to unfold.

Head bowed, she folded her hands together and closed her eyes. “Dearest Father in heaven,” she whispered. “I thank you for your constant love and the blessings you have given to me, as well as the challenges. I so want to do your will, but I'm so afraid that I won't know the path you have chosen for me. Please guide me so that I am only your instrument. Help me to be patient, for your timing
is always wisest, and help me to make decisions that are pleasing to you. Above all, please show me how to best help those I love and those . . . those who need my love. Amen.”

Breathing slowly, she held very still, praising Him and loving Him with every beat of her heart until her anxiety disappeared and she faced this new day with the hope and optimism only her faith could give her.

Full of renewed confidence, Emma made her first visit of the day to Reverend Glenn and Aunt Frances right after breakfast, but she did not have the opportunity to speak to Aunt Frances alone, as she had promised yesterday.

While Reverend Glenn and Aunt Frances held hands and sat together on the settee in the parlor, she interrupted the pleasantries they had been sharing to add a log to the fire to chase away the morning chill from the room. “That should keep you both warm until the sun gets stronger,” she said and walked around Butter, who had lain down next to the hearth, before taking a seat across from them.

“You're a blessing, as always, Emma,” Reverend Glenn said. “If I got down on my knees to keep that fire going, I'm afraid I'd never get up, even with Butter's help. I don't favor seeing Frances doing the kind of work I should be doing for us, either.”

“I don't mind at all,” Aunt Frances argued, still obviously troubled by thoughts she had shared with Emma yesterday.

Blessed with the perfect opportunity, Emma wasted no time and introduced the purpose for her visit. She did not mention anything about the change in Mother Garrett's work schedule, out of deference to her mother-in-law so she could tell them herself.
“I wonder if you'd both consider helping me with a problem I have.”

Since they both knew Wryn's circumstances through Mother Garrett, Emma started by explaining in detail the mistake she had made when Wryn first arrived, as well as the efforts she had made with Wryn to undo that mistake. “I'm afraid her gifts to you are among those that she's returning, but she also has to work off what she can't return.”