Jacob on the back. “What did your ma say about working here?”
“Ma said it was fine for me to work here for as long as Mr. Kirby needed me.”
Mary cocked an eyebrow at the young man. “Did she understand why?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy winced as he reached for his backside. “She understood all right.”
Katherine chuckled along with her friend, and her heart rose hopefully. She had worried the widow wouldn’t allow her son within ten feet of her. Perhaps her prayers were beginning to pay off. She smiled kindly at the boy. “You’d best be off with them, don’t you think?”
“Oh yes, ma’am.” Jacob ran off and called out to Daniel.
He turned toward the boy and, catching sight of Katherine, smiled.
A sharp thrill rose in her chest and she smiled back.
“Thank you for lifting such a great weight from his shoulders, Father,” Mary prayed aloud.
“Amen,” Katherine finished softly, still smiling. Suddenly remembering herself, she shook her head.
Katherine Wallace, if you keep up this foolishness, you’ll deserve every bit of what’s coming to you
.
She heard Mary chuckle and turned to look at her friend. “Jacob’s a funny little thing,” she said.
“He is, but that’s not what amuses me,” the older woman replied as they walked in the house and headed toward the kitchen.
Katherine set the basket of eggs down on the worktable. “What is it then?”
“You and my nephew.”
Katherine nearly dropped the eggs she and Mary were transferring from the basket to a large bowl. “What on earth do you mean?”
“You’re a fool if you don’t see how he looks at you.”
“I … haven’t noticed,” she replied evasively.
“Well I have, and he has the same look on his face as Thomas did whenever he got a letter from you.”
“Mary,” Katherine scolded, “he does nothing of the kind.” She continued to stack eggs in the bowl for another moment or two. “Even if he does, why would he?”
She heard her friend give an exasperated sigh. “Father, forgive me, but I would have liked to tell your family a thing or two.”
Katherine glanced up to see a pleading look in Mary’s eyes.
“Katherine, we’ve been over this before. When are you going to realize just how pretty you are?”
“When the mirror finally agrees with you,” Katherine said gently. Before Mary could get another word in, she grabbed the bowl of eggs and took them to the root cellar out next to the house. She set the eggs on one of the many shelves and pulled down several jars of vegetables to take back in for lunch.
Sometimes Mary was too kind for her own good. Pretty is the very last word she would choose to describe herself.
Short, eyes that aren’t one color or another, and a head of hair that can’t decide if it’s red or brown—pretty is the last thing I am
, she thought. Oh, Thomas hadn’t seemed to mind her lack of beauty, but then they hadn’t actually met face-to-face very often at all. And as far as Daniel was concerned, clearly Mary was only seeing what she wanted to see.
Katherine shut the door to the root cellar and leaned against it as she juggled the jars in her arms. As much as she enjoyed discussing the books she’d been reading with Daniel, it had to stop. If it didn’t, she would only end up with a very broken heart. She’d realized it yesterday evening and deliberately gone to bed early.
“
Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,” she quoted to herself.
Chapter 11
I t was easy to keep her resolve that evening. As long as the planting was going on, Simon Peter and his sons were staying at the farm during the week, sleeping in the barn. What had been going on with the Johnsons dominated the conversation in the parlor after supper.
“Are you and your family still attending the church in Africa?” Daniel asked.
The dumbfounded look on Katherine’s face made Simon Peter laugh heartily. He then explained how, a year or so before the war, a group of slaves had made their way to Ohio
“Ma said it was fine for me to work here for as long as Mr. Kirby needed me.”
Mary cocked an eyebrow at the young man. “Did she understand why?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy winced as he reached for his backside. “She understood all right.”
Katherine chuckled along with her friend, and her heart rose hopefully. She had worried the widow wouldn’t allow her son within ten feet of her. Perhaps her prayers were beginning to pay off. She smiled kindly at the boy. “You’d best be off with them, don’t you think?”
“Oh yes, ma’am.” Jacob ran off and called out to Daniel.
He turned toward the boy and, catching sight of Katherine, smiled.
A sharp thrill rose in her chest and she smiled back.
“Thank you for lifting such a great weight from his shoulders, Father,” Mary prayed aloud.
“Amen,” Katherine finished softly, still smiling. Suddenly remembering herself, she shook her head.
Katherine Wallace, if you keep up this foolishness, you’ll deserve every bit of what’s coming to you
.
She heard Mary chuckle and turned to look at her friend. “Jacob’s a funny little thing,” she said.
“He is, but that’s not what amuses me,” the older woman replied as they walked in the house and headed toward the kitchen.
Katherine set the basket of eggs down on the worktable. “What is it then?”
“You and my nephew.”
Katherine nearly dropped the eggs she and Mary were transferring from the basket to a large bowl. “What on earth do you mean?”
“You’re a fool if you don’t see how he looks at you.”
“I … haven’t noticed,” she replied evasively.
“Well I have, and he has the same look on his face as Thomas did whenever he got a letter from you.”
“Mary,” Katherine scolded, “he does nothing of the kind.” She continued to stack eggs in the bowl for another moment or two. “Even if he does, why would he?”
She heard her friend give an exasperated sigh. “Father, forgive me, but I would have liked to tell your family a thing or two.”
Katherine glanced up to see a pleading look in Mary’s eyes.
“Katherine, we’ve been over this before. When are you going to realize just how pretty you are?”
“When the mirror finally agrees with you,” Katherine said gently. Before Mary could get another word in, she grabbed the bowl of eggs and took them to the root cellar out next to the house. She set the eggs on one of the many shelves and pulled down several jars of vegetables to take back in for lunch.
Sometimes Mary was too kind for her own good. Pretty is the very last word she would choose to describe herself.
Short, eyes that aren’t one color or another, and a head of hair that can’t decide if it’s red or brown—pretty is the last thing I am
, she thought. Oh, Thomas hadn’t seemed to mind her lack of beauty, but then they hadn’t actually met face-to-face very often at all. And as far as Daniel was concerned, clearly Mary was only seeing what she wanted to see.
Katherine shut the door to the root cellar and leaned against it as she juggled the jars in her arms. As much as she enjoyed discussing the books she’d been reading with Daniel, it had to stop. If it didn’t, she would only end up with a very broken heart. She’d realized it yesterday evening and deliberately gone to bed early.
“
Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,” she quoted to herself.
Chapter 11
I t was easy to keep her resolve that evening. As long as the planting was going on, Simon Peter and his sons were staying at the farm during the week, sleeping in the barn. What had been going on with the Johnsons dominated the conversation in the parlor after supper.
“Are you and your family still attending the church in Africa?” Daniel asked.
The dumbfounded look on Katherine’s face made Simon Peter laugh heartily. He then explained how, a year or so before the war, a group of slaves had made their way to Ohio
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