Mr. Fieldman had paid to put Duncan up at the boardinghouse for his convalescence. It made it easier for the doctor to rewrap Duncan’s ribs and check the stitches he’d sewn into his scalp. However, against the physician’s advice, Duncan insisted on getting dressed and shuffling down the boardwalk and around the corner to the library in the afternoons. Not that he cared two figs for Eden’s books, of course.
“I think I’m going to try this one.” Pearl Lambert approached Eden’s desk with her usual mincing steps. The elderly lady fumbled to catch the sliding edge of her shawl before it fell off her shoulder. Eden hurried around the edge of the desk to assist her.
Pearl had been one of the faithful few to continue visiting the library after Chloe’s arrival, and thanks in part to her patronage, people were slowly trickling back in. Eden would be forever grateful to the retired schoolmarm for her steadfast example.
“Poems of Passion.” Eden read the title of Pearl’s selection aloud as she resituated the lady’s shawl. “An excellent choice.” Eden collected the slender book from the older woman’s loosening grip and moved back to her chair. “This edition came out just a few years ago, and I must admit that it is one of my favorites. I think you will find Mrs. Wilcox’s work to your liking.”
Eden marked down the patron’s name, book title, and date in her ledger, then handed the volume back.
“I flipped through some of the pages,” Pearl said as she tucked the book into her handbag, “and the start of one called ‘Solitude’ struck me as insightful.”
“Ah, yes. ‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone,’ ” Eden quoted. “Her observation proves true more often than it should.”
Pearl murmured her agreement and turned to leave. Eden escorted her to the door, then meandered back to her desk, the words of Ella Wheeler Wilcox sitting heavily in her mind.
A muted laugh floated in from the next room, begging Eden to join in with Chloe and Duncan as the poem had suggested. They had all come so close to weeping, it made the joy of surviving that much sweeter. Yet not all were so fortunate. The Dalton and Jones families had just buried a husband and a son. Perhaps she should take the buggy out tomorrow morning and pay a call. She had no idea what she would say, but she couldn’t leave them to weep alone.
Especially that precious little girl who’d stood next to Eden at the quarry. Maybe she could take a book with her, one with lots of beautiful illustrations. Perhaps they could find something to smile about amid the pages. Eden crossed to the children’s shelves and began searching for one that might fit her needs. Her finger hopped from spine to spine until it landed on a collection of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. But before she could do more than tip the corner forward, Harvey Sims walked in, snagging her attention.
Eden straightened. A little thrill of excitement hummed along her veins as she noticed the gilt object in his hands. “Oh! Did you finish it?”
“Yes’m. Got it mounted and framed just like you asked.”
Eden scurried around behind him to get a clear view, and Harvey held it up for her inspection like a proud papa showing off his latest babe.
“Turned out purty nice, I’d say.”
“Harvey, you do splendid work. It’s lovely!” Eden accepted the frame as he handed it over his shoulder. Her eyes caressed each bloom as she took in the full effect of the finished piece. The delicate pressed flowers were offset perfectly by the tiny shell patterns in the frame. An image of it hanging on the wall over her marriage bed filled her mind, making her smile.
“I bet it’ll fetch an even better price at the auction than the one you did last year.” He winked at her and patted her shoulder before heading toward the kitchen.
Her smile slipped a notch before she caught it and fastened it back into place. “The auction. Of course.” She’d forgotten for a moment that she was supposed to turn the artwork over to the auction committee at the Ladies Aid meeting that evening. “I do hope it contributes well to the school fund.”
She also hoped whoever bought it lived far away. The bouquet reminded her too much of Levi for her to see it on a frequent basis without coveting it for herself.
As Harvey disappeared into the next room, Eden bent to collect the hatbox she’d been storing her project in and packed the framed bouquet on a bed of cotton batting.
Things had been so busy since the accident at the quarry that she’d barely had time to see Levi. She missed him. He still came by the library at noon every day, but he’d been cutting his visits short this week, explaining that he was working on a special project and needed all the spare time he could arrange in order to finish it. The odd thing was, whenever she asked him about what type of project it was or who it was for, he became elusive, changing the subject or giving vague answers that really told her nothing at all.
After all they’d shared with each other, it bothered her to know he was hiding something. Then again, she was probably just feeling put out because this mystery project was keeping him away from her more than she liked.
Maybe she would invite him to supper. He had to eat somewhere, and if he stayed in town instead of returning to the Barnes’s homestead, it would save him some of that precious time he constantly sought, while giving them the chance to be together. Chloe could invite Duncan to stay, as well. And if all went as planned, the extra company would entice Levi to stay even longer.
Energized by her scheme, Eden rose from her seat, intending to warn Verna of the possible guests for dinner. Yet before she could do more than take a step or two, the front door opened. Biting back her impatience, Eden pasted a welcoming smile on her face and waited for the late-afternoon patron to enter the reading room.
A man in a tailored gray suit strolled through the doorway, a silver-topped cane in one hand, a leather satchel in the other.
Eden caught her breath. “Daddy?”
He bent to set his satchel on the floor and held his arms wide. “How’s my little bird of paradise?”
Shock gave way to delight, and reacting much like the child she used to be, Eden ran into her father’s waiting embrace. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she burrowed her face in the hollow beneath his chin. The smell of shaving soap that clung to his skin evoked feelings of home and security and comfort—of love.
“Why didn’t you wire ahead?” Eden asked as she stepped back. “I would have met you at the station and had Verna prepare your room.”
Calvin Spencer grinned unrepentantly at his daughter. “You know as well as I that Verna always keeps my room ready. Besides, a father likes to surprise his daughter every now and then.”
His gaze traveled about the library as if reacquainting himself with an old friend. However, his brows angled downward when his inspection reached the far corner.
“What is my chair doing out here?”
Eden couldn’t help it—she laughed. Which only made her father’s brows angle more sharply. “Oh, Daddy. I have so much to tell you.”
“And I want to hear it all,” he assured her. Then he arched one of those expressive eyebrows that were just starting to streak with silver and gave her a look she knew all too well, one that made her squirm. “Especially about that blacksmith fellow you wrote to me about.”
Levi examined the scrollwork he’d forged that afternoon, pleased with its vinelike appearance. It would frame the letters well, and once he shaped the roses and welded them in, he’d be ready to affix all the pieces to the arch itself.
Eden’s Garden.
He prayed she’d like his gift, for if all went according to plan, he’d be proposing marriage under that arch. Levi traced the shape of a veined iron leaf, his blood pumping with nervous vigor as he contemplated the likelihood of a positive response. The first time he’d held Eden in his arms had been in that field, and his arms ached to hold her again—this time offering love instead of friendly comfort.
Levi lifted his hand away from the design lying atop his worktable and reached for the tarp, forcing hi
s mind back to practical matters. Harvey and Verna Sims would have to be let in on the secret soon if he hoped to have the arched entry in place by the time the bluebonnets bloomed. He’d need Verna to keep Eden from running off to her field, and he’d need Harvey’s help constructing the pillars and getting the heavy ironwork arch in place.
Fieldman had offered Levi free dressed limestone if he ever found himself in need of it as a gesture of gratitude for his help at the accident site. At first Levi had shrugged it off, but then he realized how sophisticated a pair of stone pillars would look and how much stronger their support would be than the iron rods he’d initially envisioned. When he mentioned the project to Fieldman, the man also offered him a cartload of smaller stones and even volunteered to throw in a pair of stone benches he had out by the cutting shed. The benches were old and weathered but were still as strong as the day they’d been chiseled. When Levi pictured himself sitting beside Eden—her hand in his as she gazed out over her flowers, his thumb stroking the skin at her wrist as he gazed at her—he’d been unable to refuse.
“Levi? Are you in here?”
Eden.
Levi jerked the tarp down over the worktable and hurried out to meet her before she could wander too deeply into the shop. The heavy leather of his apron slapped against his knees, filling him with a level of self-respect he’d never achieved by knocking men to the ground. With the Lord’s help, he was becoming a man of honor, a man Eden could be proud of. Maybe even a man his father could be proud of someday.
So why was it when he caught sight of the dapper gentleman at Eden’s side, he suddenly became conscious of the sweat stains and char marks on his apron and the disheveled state of his hair? The fellow was as shiny and fresh-looking as the gold watch chain that draped artistically across his vest. A keen reminder of the world Eden came from.
The man met Levi’s eye with an assessing glance, one that bordered on disapproval. Levi clenched his jaw and stared back. He’d not slink away just because this dandy thought himself better. A man’s character didn’t reside in a bank account or fine coat. If it did, that idiot of a clerk who’d been engaged to Eden never would’ve traded her in for a pocketful of money.
From behind him, Levi heard the familiar rumble of Ornery’s growl. The mutt snarled louder as he approached, taking his position beside Levi’s knee. It gave Levi a perverse pleasure to see the man’s eyes widen as they shifted uneasily to the dog.
His opinion of the man rose a notch as he shifted his stance to place himself between Ornery and Eden. The dog wouldn’t harm a hair on Eden’s head, but the stranger couldn’t know that. Eden tried to step around him, but he held out his arm and refused to let her pass.
“No, darling. Stay back.”
Darling? Levi’s opinion of the man plummeted.
“Call off your dog,” the stranger ordered.
Levi ignored him.
Eden tried to step around the man again, and again he pushed her behind him.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “This is no way to make a proper introduction. Ornery, hush.”
Immediately the dog sat back on his haunches and started thumping his tail. He even whined a bit as if afraid he’d disappointed his mistress—the traitor.
On her third attempt, Eden maneuvered around the man successfully and crossed the dozen or so feet to where the dog sat. She patted Ornery’s head with affection, then turned chiding eyes up to Levi.
“Why didn’t you call him off?” she whispered. “I thought my father was going to have a fit.”
A hole opened up in Levi’s stomach. “Your . . . father?”
Eden nodded, her sympathetic smile offering little comfort. Her hand sliding around his bicep felt good, though, and the fact that she stayed by his side gave him the courage to meet the level gaze of the man before him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Levi was still meeting Mr. Spencer’s gaze later that evening—this time over the dinner table. Eden had pleaded with him to come to supper, and he hadn’t found the wherewithal to refuse. Not that he would have anyway. Playing the coward was no way to win her father’s respect. And outside of his own father, Levi craved this man’s respect more than any other.
“How long will you be staying, Mr. Spencer?” Harvey asked the question as he reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes and scooped a second helping onto his plate.
Calvin Spencer diverted his attention from Levi to smile warmly at the man to his right. “Only a few days, I’m afraid. You know how Marjorie gets when I’m away too long.”
The two shared a knowing look that seemed to eradicate any social barriers one would expect between employer and employee. Sharing a meal was unusual enough, but the two seemed as comfortable with each other as old friends. Eden’s father put on no airs around the Simses, and from the courtesy he showed to Chloe and Duncan, Levi sensed no criticism where they were concerned, either. The man’s censure appeared to be reserved solely for him.
The bread he was swallowing stuck in his throat as he made that observation. He grabbed his water glass and gulped enough liquid to dislodge the doughy bite, then stabbed his fork into the last piece of pan-fried ham on his plate in order to have an excuse not to add to the conversation. While he chewed, he surreptitiously wiped the sweat from his palms onto his trousers.
“I plan to call the town council together for a brief meeting tomorrow, and I’d like to stay for the auction on Saturday. After that, I’ll head home to Austin.”
Eden retrieved the napkin from her lap, dabbed her lips, then set it on the tablecloth beside her empty plate. “The ladies are organizing the auction items at the church tonight,” she said, “but I’m sure they would understand if I cut my time short in order to spend the evening with you. I’ll deliver my bouquet and help out for about thirty minutes, and then we can sit in the parlor and discuss whatever you’ve been reading lately. You know how I miss our chats.”
“I’d like that.” Calvin Spencer smiled at his daughter with such fondness that Levi’s chest ached.
What he wouldn’t give to share that kind of closeness with his father, to sit together after a long day, share stories about the odd repairs people brought in to the smithy or trade ideas about striking techniques or fire temperatures. Or maybe they’d talk about something completely unrelated to work—like the fine meal his mother had just cooked or the grandchildren who were chasing each other through the house. His kids and his brother’s, playing together like cousins should. Eden reading a book to the youngest ones and glancing up to smile at him.
Much as she was doing now.
He blinked.
“Levi and I have been exchanging ideas on a couple of novels recently.” Her face glowed as she looked at him, and then she shifted to address her father directly. “Jules Verne is one of Levi’s favorite authors, and we had some spirited discussions on A Journey to the Centre of the Earth and Around the World in Eighty Days. He started working his way through Ivanhoe but hasn’t had a chance to finish it yet.”
“A reading man, huh?” Mr. Spencer leaned back in his chair, his eyes once again probing Levi. “You don’t seem the type.”
Levi shrugged. He knew the man was testing him, but he was afraid if he opened his mouth he’d stumble all over his words and end up looking the fool. So he held his tongue and prayed that the proverb about the man who shutteth his lips appearing wise proved true.
“Daddy, be nice,” Eden chided.
She scooted her chair back and rose to her feet. Levi tossed his napkin aside and jumped up, as well. The other men stood at a more decorous pace, and for an instant, Levi thought for sure he’d seen Mr. Spencer’s lips twitch as if to smile. But he must have been mistaken. The way the man stared at him left no room for levity.
There was no doubting Eden’s smile, however. She obviously adored her father and couldn’t wait to spend the evening with him. “If it’s all right with Verna,” she said, “I’ll head to the church now so we can have plenty of time to
visit.”
“Of course it’s all right, girlie,” the housekeeper interjected. “Chloe and I will manage the dishes, and Harvey will see that Mr. McPherson makes it back to the boardinghouse in one piece. Won’t you, Harv?”
“Yes’m.” He nodded acquiescence, but his gaze roved to the rest of his potatoes as if he wondered if he’d get a chance to finish his supper before being pressed into service.
“Wonderful. I’ll fetch the pressed bouquet and—”
“I’ll walk you.”
Eden turned startled eyes on him. He knew he’d interrupted, but he couldn’t take the chance of her father offering to escort her before he could. After the constant scrutiny he’d endured, Levi craved a few private minutes with Eden. No, not craved—required. He was suffocating and needed a few moments alone with her like he needed air.
“Thank you, Levi.”
His chest eased a little.
He followed her out through the reading room and to the base of the stairs. She touched his arm, and his lungs expanded a bit more. “I’ll just be a minute. I’d like to change into a work dress.”
Her silky, deep red skirts swished as she pivoted to climb the stairs. Black lace cascaded behind her. No, her formal dinner dress would not be suitable attire. It certainly made a handsome picture, though, bringing out the red in her hair and showing off the trimness of her waist. Levi feasted on the sight until she disappeared into the upper hall.
“She’s a beautiful woman, isn’t she?”
Levi nearly choked as his airway constricted again. Slowly he turned to face Calvin Spencer. The man stood leaning against the wall in a nonchalant pose, but his posture didn’t fool Levi. Eden’s father was poised to attack.
“She’s been hurt before,” he said in a low voice, pushing away from the wall. “I aim to see that it doesn’t happen again.”
No longer caring about his plan to remain silent, Levi stalked across the floor, indignation burning hot in his gut. “I would die before hurting her.” He ground out the vow through a clenched jaw. He’d not allow this man to lump him in the same category as his idiot clerk.