“I’ve enjoyed meeting ye and yer
sisters immensely, Mrs. Castleberry.”
She eyed his hat and noted the embroidered military insignia.
“You were in the military?”
“Aye. The Royal Scots, an infantry regiment. I’ve kept a
fondness for the bonnet.”
“I hope we’ll get the chance to chat about Scotland
sometime.” Rebecca nearly bit her tongue off, aghast at her boldness, but she
couldn’t stop herself. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
Ian’s eyes widened just a bit, then he smiled warmly and the
spirit of it glowed in his eyes. Rebecca felt her heart trip over itself. “I
would like very much to tell ye about my home. Perhaps at our next meeting I
could share some of my favorite books with ye about Sco’land’s history?”
“I’d like that.” Rebecca thought her voice sounded shaky and
kicked herself for it.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer then he
nodded and headed down the walk. Closing the door slowly, Rebecca heard him
whistling a lighthearted tune. As she made her way back to the kitchen, head
down, lost in thought, she wondered if she had imagined his lingering gazes and
attentive conversation. Was it all in her head? She was so old, surely he
couldn’t−
“My, my, my.” Startled by Naomi’s voice, Rebecca swung her
head up and saw her sisters standing in the kitchen’s entrance, watching her,
arms folded across their chests. Wearing a teasing smirk, Naomi nudged Hannah
in the ribs. “I think Rebecca has developed a sudden interest in Scotland.” But
the smile faded. “We just need to make sure he has better manners than Mr.
McIntyre.”
~~~
“Well, that’s the last of it.” Flushed and a bit sweaty,
Naomi dropped a box on the bed and looked around this warehouse space they
called their bedroom. After several steady days of unpacking, the second floor,
like the kitchen, was now peppered with piles of boxes. Hannah and Rebecca
stood amongst a grouping of open trunks and topless boxes. Hands resting on
their hips, their disappointment was plain. Naomi patted the container she had
just deposited. “This is a box of John’s shirts.”
The mention of his name dropped a palpable gloom on the
three. Desperate not to give in to the pain, Naomi forced herself to cheer up,
for her sisters’ sakes. “You said it yourself, Rebecca. We’ll just have to sew
her some clothes.”
Hannah’s face brightened. “I did find this…” She dug through
a trunk and came up with an arm load of powder blue muslin. “I bought this just
before Christmas because I wanted to make a few spring dresses out of it.” For
a moment, her face clouded, perhaps mourning the lost dreams of a future bright
with innocence.
Rebecca reached over and brushed the fabric with a loving
hand. “I’ll make you something nice out of it. You’ll be beautiful.”
A look passed between the two that Naomi almost envied.
Rebecca and Hannah had always shared a special relationship, especially since
the death of Rebecca’s daughter. Naomi knew she had no one to blame but
herself. She’d never been very good at letting her sisters in. She’d always
felt the need to protect them, like some kind of guard dog.
If she was their rock, then John had been hers. How she had
come to give him every inch of her soul, she would never know. Only with him
could she comfortably soften and show weakness. And now she was floundering,
drowning in uncertainty and grief. Her anger over their current circums¬tances
was a kind of anchor, steadying this swaying, rolling thing she called her
life…or so she tried to believe.
Deciding to delve into that at a later time, Naomi looked
around the room again. “I don’t recall seeing the sewing kit.”
Rebecca gasped and slapped her forehead. “Oh, no, it was with
the pinafores and baby clothes. I thought I was being so smart putting it with
them in case they needed altering.”
Naomi crossed her arms, unhappy with their next step. “You
know what that
sisters immensely, Mrs. Castleberry.”
She eyed his hat and noted the embroidered military insignia.
“You were in the military?”
“Aye. The Royal Scots, an infantry regiment. I’ve kept a
fondness for the bonnet.”
“I hope we’ll get the chance to chat about Scotland
sometime.” Rebecca nearly bit her tongue off, aghast at her boldness, but she
couldn’t stop herself. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
Ian’s eyes widened just a bit, then he smiled warmly and the
spirit of it glowed in his eyes. Rebecca felt her heart trip over itself. “I
would like very much to tell ye about my home. Perhaps at our next meeting I
could share some of my favorite books with ye about Sco’land’s history?”
“I’d like that.” Rebecca thought her voice sounded shaky and
kicked herself for it.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer then he
nodded and headed down the walk. Closing the door slowly, Rebecca heard him
whistling a lighthearted tune. As she made her way back to the kitchen, head
down, lost in thought, she wondered if she had imagined his lingering gazes and
attentive conversation. Was it all in her head? She was so old, surely he
couldn’t−
“My, my, my.” Startled by Naomi’s voice, Rebecca swung her
head up and saw her sisters standing in the kitchen’s entrance, watching her,
arms folded across their chests. Wearing a teasing smirk, Naomi nudged Hannah
in the ribs. “I think Rebecca has developed a sudden interest in Scotland.” But
the smile faded. “We just need to make sure he has better manners than Mr.
McIntyre.”
~~~
“Well, that’s the last of it.” Flushed and a bit sweaty,
Naomi dropped a box on the bed and looked around this warehouse space they
called their bedroom. After several steady days of unpacking, the second floor,
like the kitchen, was now peppered with piles of boxes. Hannah and Rebecca
stood amongst a grouping of open trunks and topless boxes. Hands resting on
their hips, their disappointment was plain. Naomi patted the container she had
just deposited. “This is a box of John’s shirts.”
The mention of his name dropped a palpable gloom on the
three. Desperate not to give in to the pain, Naomi forced herself to cheer up,
for her sisters’ sakes. “You said it yourself, Rebecca. We’ll just have to sew
her some clothes.”
Hannah’s face brightened. “I did find this…” She dug through
a trunk and came up with an arm load of powder blue muslin. “I bought this just
before Christmas because I wanted to make a few spring dresses out of it.” For
a moment, her face clouded, perhaps mourning the lost dreams of a future bright
with innocence.
Rebecca reached over and brushed the fabric with a loving
hand. “I’ll make you something nice out of it. You’ll be beautiful.”
A look passed between the two that Naomi almost envied.
Rebecca and Hannah had always shared a special relationship, especially since
the death of Rebecca’s daughter. Naomi knew she had no one to blame but
herself. She’d never been very good at letting her sisters in. She’d always
felt the need to protect them, like some kind of guard dog.
If she was their rock, then John had been hers. How she had
come to give him every inch of her soul, she would never know. Only with him
could she comfortably soften and show weakness. And now she was floundering,
drowning in uncertainty and grief. Her anger over their current circums¬tances
was a kind of anchor, steadying this swaying, rolling thing she called her
life…or so she tried to believe.
Deciding to delve into that at a later time, Naomi looked
around the room again. “I don’t recall seeing the sewing kit.”
Rebecca gasped and slapped her forehead. “Oh, no, it was with
the pinafores and baby clothes. I thought I was being so smart putting it with
them in case they needed altering.”
Naomi crossed her arms, unhappy with their next step. “You
know what that
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