Read Wishing on Buttercups Online

Authors: Miralee Ferrell

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Christian, #Romance, #Western, #Oregon, #Love, #Adoption, #Artist

Wishing on Buttercups (20 page)

He bowed his head again. “I’m sorry.” The words broke on a husky note. “That’s why I came west, to beg your forgiveness. You may never agree to take me back, but I hoped you might allow me the gift of friendship. I want you to know I still love you, but I don’t expect it to be returned.”

Confusion turned to uncertainty. He still loved her. If only he’d told her the truth before he’d disappeared and left her wounded and bleeding. The news should make her heart race, but surprisingly, it didn’t. Yes, there was a small flutter of excitement, but she couldn’t claim it was love. Why did he come back now, when she was finding purpose in her life and making new friends?

He reached as though to touch her again, then pulled back. “Have you nothing to say? Am I to assume you want me to leave and never bother you again?”

Beth picked up her teacup and took a sip. “No, I’m not asking you to leave.” That much she knew for certain.

His eyes lighted with … something. “So there’s hope for me? For us?”

She held up her hand. “Please don’t rush me.”

He sat back and emitted a soft groan. “I’m sorry. I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

“You’ve done nothing at the moment, but I need time, Brent. This is all so unexpected. I can barely wrap my mind around what you’ve told me. After believing you had abandoned me …” A shiver ran through her body.

“I know. I’ll make it up to you, if you’ll only give me a chance.”

Beth shook her head. “You broke my trust.”

“Can you at least consider a friendship?”

She bit her lip. “That might be possible, but I’ll not promise more.”

“Thank you. But I hope you’ll give me another chance to restore your belief in me.”

The longing in his voice tugged at Beth’s emotions. Her heart had gone out to him over his past, but she had no desire to travel this same path again.

Brent gripped her hand across the small table.

A boot scudded close to their table, and she tugged her hand away, then froze. Jeffery was looking at them from a few feet away, a grim frown marring his handsome face.

 

Jeffery stood his ground, moving his gaze from Beth to Wentworth. He should have left the café as soon as he’d seen her sitting at the table with that man. What had made him cross the room? A misguided desire to rescue her, like she was some princess needing to be saved? Foolishness. All of it. His trip to town, his eagerness to find Beth, and now this—walking in where he obviously wasn’t wanted or needed. He turned away, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers.

Chair legs scraped the floor. “Jeffery. Wait. Please?” Beth hurried to his side, her fingers intertwined at her waist. “I didn’t see you come in.”

He let his gaze wash over her. “No. I imagine you didn’t.”

She winced, and color flooded her cheeks.

Could she be truly embarrassed that she’d been holding Wentworth’s hand in public, or was it that she’d gotten caught? More than likely the latter. It wasn’t his affair—the two of them were barely friends, if that. He certainly didn’t have any claim on Beth, even if his heart desired otherwise.

Beth drew back a step. “Were you looking for me?”

Jeffery kept his eyes riveted on her, refusing to look at Wentworth. One glimpse had been enough to see the barely concealed anger simmering under the surface of the man’s placid facade. Wentworth was jealous, and he might well have the right to be, all things considered. Who was this man, and why had Beth wanted to keep her meeting yesterday a secret from her aunt? Apparently Mrs. Roberts didn’t know Beth was seeing Wentworth in town, or she wouldn’t have sent him off with instructions to find and bring her home. Jeffery’s shoulders stiffened. Or maybe that was exactly why she’d done so. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I was.”

“Is anything wrong at home?” She gripped his arm. “Is Aunt Wilma all right?”

“She’s fine.” His words were clipped, but he didn’t care. “She knew I was walking to town and asked me to keep an eye out for you. She thought you might appreciate an escort home.” He shot a look at the table. “I see she was mistaken, and you
are
being cared for. I assume Mr. Wentworth will walk you home?”

Beth’s lips compressed. “I, um …”

Wentworth pushed back his chair with what appeared to be a forced smile and rose from the table. “We were saying good-bye. I’m afraid I have another appointment. You can walk her home, Mr., er …?” He extended his hand.

“Tucker.” Jeffery ignored the slight and addressed Beth. “Do you wish me to escort you? I don’t want to impose.”

She looked at her companion. “I wasn’t aware you had an appointment, Brent.”

“I was going to tell you, but I didn’t have a chance.” He stared at Jeffery. “I can cancel it if you’re not happy about letting this man walk you home.”

“Not at all, I was simply surprised. Why don’t you come to the house tomorrow for lunch?”

Wentworth’s lips tightened, and he jerked his head to the side. “Could you give me another moment before you leave, Beth?”

Jeffery opened his mouth to object but snapped it shut. This wasn’t his affair. He was simply the messenger. He’d done his duty. Now all he could do was wait and see what transpired.

 

Beth wanted to sink through the floor, but she wasn’t sure why. She and Jeffery were friends, nothing more—and at one time she’d thought Brent had been the love of her life. Yet now relief swept through her that she’d made no promises or guarantees to her old beau. She couldn’t believe Brent had grasped her hand; the action had taken her by surprise.

After a glance at Jeffery, she moved to where Brent impatiently waited. “What is it?”

He took her elbow and drew her to a nearby corner. “I don’t want Tucker to overhear.”

She lifted her chin. “Jeffery can be trusted. You were happy he could walk me home. It’s not like
you
offered.” What business had brought him to town besides her? Had he been completely honest about his reasons for coming?

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize until Mr. Tucker came how late it is. If it’s so important to you, I’ll run down the street and tell the person I’m meeting that I need to reschedule.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Will that make you happy?” The words held a slight edge.

She narrowed her eyes and took a step back. “I’m perfectly happy to walk home alone or with Jeffery. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“I … I didn’t mean that at all.” He rubbed his chin. “My appointment can wait.”

Beth regarded him for several long moments. No hint of deception hovered across his features. “Please, take care of your business. I need to get home so Aunt Wilma doesn’t worry. In fact, I’m sure she’ll want to know you had a good reason for leaving Topeka.”

“About that, Beth.” He softened his tone. “What do you think about not saying anything to your aunt for now?”

She stiffened. “Why?”

His mouth curved in a boyish smile. “I’d like to spend a little time together getting reacquainted before we let the world in—you know, just the two of us for now.”

“I will not lie to Aunt Wilma.”

“Of course not. I’d never ask you to do that.” His grin widened. “I suppose I’m just being selfish. I wanted you all to myself for a while. But if it’s important to you, we can tell your aunt.”

Beth touched his arm as he started to move away. “I’m still not sure it’s right to keep your presence from her, but I understand how you feel. I won’t lie if she asks, but I suppose I don’t have to volunteer any information right now.”

“As you wish.”

Beth pulled away, but he gripped her hand and gave a courtly bow. What must Jeffery be thinking? She hadn’t invited that action, and although Brent hadn’t kissed her hand, it made her uncomfortable.

Then, suddenly, she realized Brent’s touch hadn’t brought a rush of desire. Had everything they’d once shared disappeared when he’d deserted her? Somehow she doubted they could work through the obstacles that separated them and find their way back again.

Brent placed his fingers under her chin and lifted it. “I’m so grateful to have you back in my life that I’ll do whatever you say. Thank you for agreeing to see me. I look forward to tomorrow.”

Unease dug its talons into her stomach. “Not tomorrow. I don’t usually come to the post office every day, and I have no reason to shop this soon again.”

His lips drooped. “The next day, then? Please, Beth. We have so much to catch up on.”

The unease deepened. “I’ll think about it. I’m thankful you explained what happened.”

“I hope you’ll forgive me. I wasn’t trying to pressure you.”

She searched his face. “All right. Day after tomorrow, but only for a short visit.”

“Thank you.” He shot a look toward Jeffery that she couldn’t quite fathom. Surely he didn’t see Jeffery as a rival. No, that was silly. There had never been anything more than a casual friendship between them. Regret blew a soft breeze over her heart. Was that all she truly wanted? Could she be making a mistake giving Brent even a chance at friendship?

She bid Brent good day and turned toward the man who’d waited so patiently. A sweet contentment bathed her as she slipped her hand into Jeffery’s extended arm.

Jeffery gave her a stiff nod. “I’m sorry your friend wasn’t able to escort you, Miss Roberts.”

Beth blinked. “Miss Roberts?”

“We should probably hurry home.” Jeffery lifted his chin, his eyes cool. “The street is busy, so please be careful as we cross and don’t let go of my arm.” He stepped off the boardwalk and waited as a wagon passed, then moved forward. “I imagine your aunt is wondering what’s keeping you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Late that night Beth woke from a dream, panting and writhing in phantom pain. Her arms and legs burned as though drenched in fire. She threw off the blankets and sat up, trying to calm her breathing. It was only a dream—not real—even if it had almost consumed her. Reaching for a match, she lit a candle on the small dresser next to her bedside, then poured water from a pitcher and downed it. The dream was still too close, pressing in on her mind.

She shuddered as the images flashed yet again. The hot coals had pushed into her tender flesh with searing agony. Her arms and legs had flailed, and a wail tore from her throat, then transformed to moans and sobs. Why didn’t Mama or Papa come? It felt like days that she’d lain there. Had it been? Or only hours before dusky brown hands lifted her carefully from the ash and cradled her in gentle arms. Cool water dripped over her burning skin, and she was submersed up to her neck in the icy cold water of a stream. Terror filled her anew. First fire, then water. If she didn’t burn to death, she would drown. She kicked and screamed, but the hands persisted in holding her down.

She must have passed out, for in the next image she was lying on a bed of soft furs. A woman knelt beside her, crooning words she couldn’t understand, but her sweet tone had calmed her. The little girl in the dream had been almost naked, with angry red welts and oozing sores dotting her limbs, neck, and the tender skin of her belly. She moaned and waved her arms in the air, trying to make the pain stop.

The woman took her hands and held them tight while another woman edged closer. She dipped her fingers into a rough-hewn bowl and smoothed something on the angry welts and sores. At first Beth screamed, pulling away, but the woman persisted, all the while crooning soft singsong words. Blackness approached and threatened to suck her under. Beth had emitted such a shuddering cry that she awakened herself from the dream.

She had never remembered this much detail before and almost wished she hadn’t tonight. Why now? Something must have triggered it. Willing her hands to quit shaking, she lay down but didn’t draw the blankets over her body. If those nightmares reoccurred, she wanted to bolt from the bed as quickly as possible.

“Oh, Father God, it’s been too long since I’ve talked to You, but I know You’ve tried to get my attention lately. Please make these nightmares go away. Help me sleep without darkness sinking me into another place of torment.” She lifted her arm and placed the back of her hand across her eyes. If only it were so easy to block out the images that assaulted her.

Other books

El joven Lennon by Jordi Sierra i Fabra
The Summer of Me & You by Hachton, Rae
Wild Thing by Doranna Durgin
Yours for the Night by Jasmine Haynes
Suddenly One Summer by Freethy, Barbara
The Twisted Claw by Franklin W. Dixon
Little Swan by Adèle Geras
Cosmo Cosmolino by Helen Garner