Wishing on Buttercups (27 page)

Wilma scrubbed the last breakfast pot the following morning and gave a sigh of satisfaction. “It feels good to be back in a kitchen again.”

Caleb placed the pot in the cupboard. “Mrs. Jacobs tells me she’ll be seeing her own physician later today, but the past two days the morning sickness has lightened by dinnertime.”

“I’m thankful she allowed all of us to pitch in and help.” Wilma smiled at Caleb. “Although I do believe Frances was quite put out that she was given the cooking instead of the cleaning.”

Caleb quirked a brow. “But Mrs. Jacobs said her mother was a good cook. I can’t imagine why she’d rather scrub pots and pans.”

Wilma laughed outright. “She was hoping to keep an eye on the two of us, that’s why. She’s kept silent for now, but mark my words, she’s biding her time.”

Caleb tossed the towel on the rack by the sink. “For what?”

“To meddle in my business. It’s killing her not knowing what’s going on. I can’t believe she hasn’t tried to pry the information by force.” Wilma tsked. “That woman will be the death of me yet.” She stopped in front of the window. “What a lovely fall. I’m not sure how much longer it will last, as winter can set in quite suddenly, but this last week of September has been perfect.”

He stepped up beside her. “I can’t imagine the winters being any more bitter than in Kansas.”

“I’m not certain, having yet to experience one, but I’ve heard the snow gets very deep in the mountain passes.”

“How about here in town? Do they frequently get cut off from the outside world?”

“I believe it happens, but the snow can come and go quickly as well. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see. Hopefully we won’t find out until after Thanksgiving.”

Caleb turned to face her. “Why are you still here, Wilma?”

“There are no rentals to be found in town, and I don’t have the money right now to build, even if I wanted to. The boardinghouse has come to feel like home, so we’ve not felt any urgency to move.”

“That’s not what I meant, my dear.” He took her hand in his. “Why didn’t you return to Topeka? I know you came here hoping to discover more about Beth’s family, but from what I understand, you haven’t been successful. Do you ever plan to go home?”

Her heart lurched, and she tried to still the trembling that seized her.
Home.
She had longed for it at first, but now …? Wilma shook her head. “I don’t think so, Caleb. I wrote to my solicitor and asked him to sell the house.”

“What? Why?” His grip tightened. “Is something wrong? You aren’t ill, are you?”

She patted his hand. “Of course not. Would you care to take a walk and get out of this house while the weather is still fine? If you don’t mind, I don’t care to discuss it here.”

Caleb cast a glance toward the parlor. “Certainly. I was going to suggest the same. Let me go to my room first and retrieve something.”

Wilma plucked her shawl from the back of a dining room chair and swung it around her shoulders. Curiosity and dread pricked her. What could Caleb be retrieving? Surely he wasn’t going to propose after she’d made it clear she wasn’t certain she was ready to be courted. She smirked. How foolish to even consider such a thing. More than likely it was an article that related to the medical field. George used to love discussing new medical finds.

Hurrying footsteps clattered down the stairs and Wilma smiled. Caleb was fifty-seven, eight years her senior, but you’d never know it. She still hadn’t figured out why he’d retired and headed west.

He slowed at the kitchen doorway. “My lady.” He swept her a courtly bow and extended his arm. “May I have the honor of escorting you?”

She giggled, then slid her hand through the crook of his elbow. “With pleasure, kind sir.”

“Is your shawl warm enough, or do you need a cloak?”

“It will be fine, thank you. The sun is shining, and there’s no wind today.” Wilma kept a firm grip as they walked out the door and down the stairs, thankful no one followed. Frances must be upstairs taking her midmorning rest, and Beth had headed to town shortly after breakfast. She frowned. The girl had been traipsing to town more than normal lately. It might not hurt to ask about that. However, nothing more seemed to be developing with Mr. Tucker. Frances had been keeping her ears open as well and had reported no romance blossoming. What a disappointment. Even though Mr. Tucker wasn’t a wealthy man, he was steady and decent, and his prospects were good now that he’d acquired a contract for his book. He might even become a famous author someday.

Caleb placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “What are you smiling about, Wilma? You look quite happy with your own thoughts.”

“I suppose I was wandering. How rude of me.”

“Not at all. If it’s not something you care to talk about …”

“It wasn’t important. Simply thinking how nice it would be if Beth and Mr. Tucker were to start courting.”

“Tucker?” Caleb arched his brows. “I didn’t realize. So Beth is interested in the man?”

“Frances and I thought so, but now I’m not sure.” She tipped her head to the side. “It doesn’t matter.” They passed the spot in the yard where Mr. Lansing had encountered the bucket of paint, and Wilma winced, remembering the lawsuit. Hopefully whatever Caleb brought from his room wasn’t bad news.

“I asked about selling the house in Topeka. I’m curious … what made you decide to do that?”

How much to tell him? Caleb was a dear friend, and he desired even more. Trust wasn’t an issue as much as her own stubborn pride. Somehow she hated admitting she’d made poor choices, but deep inside Wilma knew that telling the full truth would be the better option. “Several things. Partly, I thought Beth needed a change. There was a man in Topeka of whom I didn’t approve, paying court to my niece. I believe he left town at my urging, but I didn’t care to take unnecessary chances. Also, I determined she needed a change.”

Caleb pressed her fingers. “She needed one, or you did?”

She drew to a stop on the path and peered at him. “What do you mean?”

“When you left, I wondered if you decided to cut all your ties to home. You didn’t say good-bye, and if mutual friends hadn’t informed me, I wouldn’t have known where you’d gone. I was pleasantly shocked when I received your letter, as I didn’t know if I’d hear from you again.”

“I am so sorry.” She tried to still the trembling of her fingers. “All I could think of was protecting Beth and trying to find answers about her past. I didn’t realize I had hurt you. Please forgive me for my callous behavior.”

“No forgiveness necessary, Wilma. I’m grateful you weren’t running away from me.”

“Never.” As soon as the word left her lips, she knew it was true. It wasn’t the time or the place to let him know, but her heart was stirring toward this kind man.

“Good.” He drew her forward along the path, tucking her hand closer under his arm.

“May I ask what you brought from your room? Does it have anything to do with what drew you west?”

He nodded and slowed his pace as they crossed the wood bridge over the Powder River. “Let’s stop here for a moment.” They paused, and Caleb leaned against the railing. He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. “I received this in the mail yesterday. I’ve been sending out inquiries to people I thought might know more of Beth’s history.”

“What, Caleb? What did you find?” She placed her hand over her pounding heart. “Do you know who her parents are, is that it?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, no. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up.”

She slumped, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed. “What, then?”

Caleb withdrew a paper and unfolded it carefully, exposing a dried yellow buttercup.

Wilma touched it with a tentative finger, not wanting to destroy the fragile specimen. “Beth loves these.” She looked up. “I don’t understand what it means.”

“I have a friend who works as a scout for the military. He married an Arapaho woman and works out of Fort Laramie.”

A jolt went through Wilma. “That’s where the Arapaho brought Beth.”

He nodded. “I know. Carter wrote and sent this. He questioned his wife about the little white girl who came to her tribe many years ago, and Dancing Water remembered her.”

Wilma gripped her hands together. “Go on.”

“His wife was twelve years old when Beth was brought to their camp. Apparently, Dancing Water’s mother was the woman chosen to care for her. She said the child had burns on many parts of her body and cried all night when she arrived. But the little girl was clutching something in her fist and wouldn’t let go.”

Wilma looked at the dried flower resting on the paper Caleb had partially folded. “This?”

“Yes. When Beth finally fell asleep, Dancing Water took it, thinking it was powerful medicine and kept the child from dying. She pressed and dried the blossom and guarded it carefully. When Beth was taken to the fort she wanted to send it, but the brave who returned her refused. Dancing Water kept it all these years in memory of the child she came to think of as her baby sister.”

“Did she say how they found Beth or anything about her family?” Wilma gazed down into the water flowing below the bridge. The years had sped by almost as quickly as this river moved through its channel, but sometimes it seemed like yesterday that the frightened young girl had arrived on her doorstep.

“Dancing Water told her husband that Beth was found beside an abandoned campfire. From the signs, she’d apparently been running, tripped, and fell over the rocks surrounding the coals and into the sizzling fire. It appeared the wagons had been gone for some time. The hunting party followed her back trail. They saw where she’d played in a field earlier in the day and picked the buttercups. She was so badly burned they didn’t want to take the time to find her people. Their camp was close, so they loaded her on a travois and took her to their medicine woman, Dancing Water’s mother.”

“Then she wasn’t stolen.” Tears filled Wilma’s eyes. “I’d almost hoped she had been—at least that way Beth wouldn’t have to continue believing her family abandoned her.”

Caleb touched her hair. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing more? No other clues to her people?”

“I’m afraid not. The braves took Beth to the fort about five or six months after finding her, when she was well enough to travel. Dancing Water said both girls cried when they parted. Has Beth mentioned remembering her time there?”

Wilma thought for a moment. “She told me not long ago that memories are returning. I’ll ask if she recalls Dancing Water.”

He tucked her hand back into his arm. “Would you prefer to walk to town or stroll back toward the house?”

“I don’t think I’m in the mood for town, but I’d love to continue walking for a little longer, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly. But about your house? I understand you wanting to come out here to help Beth, but why sell? I assumed someday you’d move back to Topeka.”

A hawk swooped overhead, its shrill cry rending the air. Wilma raised her head and watched its flight, wondering what it would be like to experience that kind of freedom. “When we left, I had every intention of returning, but things have changed. Beth and I are both making a new life here. It’s a nice change living simpler and not being pushed into the center of the social whirlwind. And while George left me comfortably well off, I made some poor choices last year that affected my finances.” She hesitated, unsure if she should continue.

Caleb nodded. “So selling the house is partly financial? That makes sense. I assumed since George bought it when you married you’d not want to leave.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was time to let go. I loved George deeply, but the years have softened the loss.” She met his gaze. “I’m ready to move on.” She held her breath, wondering if he’d grasp what she hoped to convey.

He stopped and gently gripped her shoulders. “Are you saying what I think, Wilma Roberts?”

She tipped her head to one side and smiled. “I’m not sure. What is it you think?”

“That you’ll consider my suit? You’ll allow me to court you?” His hands tightened, but she could feel his fingers tremble.

“I will.” Wilma nodded, her heart bubbling with joy and gratitude that God had sent such a kind man into her life. “And I’m proud that you’d ask, Caleb Marshall.”

“Then I hope this will help you make up your mind in the days to come.” He lowered his head and his lips brushed hers, gently and tentatively.

Wilma’s lips tingled, and her body felt as though she might burst into flames. When Caleb lifted his head, she drew in her breath. “My goodness gracious!” She stared up at him, taking in the expression of happiness that slowly changed to one of near panic. Poor man—he must have thought she didn’t care for the experience. Raising her chin, she smiled. “I do believe I might need one more to help me make up my mind.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jeffery paced from the parlor to the base of the stairway and back. Beth had stood him up. He glanced at his pocket watch. Ten o’clock—fifteen minutes late. From what he knew of her, this wasn’t typical. Maybe he should go upstairs and knock on her door. He placed his foot on the first tread and paused. What if she was ill? He hadn’t seen Beth since breakfast, but she’d appeared quite well.

He’d worked hard to allay the stiffness between them created by his mention of Brent Wentworth a number of days ago. It had seemed foolish to dwell on such a trivial incident, and his heart kept tugging him in Beth’s direction. They
had
made this arrangement yesterday, but he hadn’t forgotten and assumed Beth wouldn’t either. He ought to find Mrs. Roberts and ask her advice.

The front door opened and closed softly, and Jeffery spun around. Beth stood in the foyer, her cheeks pink and hair tousled. “Jeffery, I’m so sorry. Am I terribly late?”

His heart somersaulted. She looked positively adorable in her burgundy gown and matching hat. “Certainly not enough to worry over. I didn’t realize you had gone out. I hope coming back didn’t inconvenience you.”

A shy smile blossomed as she drew off her hat. “I should have asked you to come with me, but I was hoping to surprise you.” She held up a slender package with a flourish. “I rushed to the post office this morning …”