later.
Anna turned and smiled at Peter. “ Dank U , Peter. You make me feel at home. Since I’ve never had a brother, I think I’ll adopt you.”
“I’m honored, Anna.”
When Peter bent to take his mother’s plate, she leaned close to his ear and muttered under her breath, “I must have a private word with you after lunch, dear.”
Catharine, her dress now sticking to her from the hot kitchen and her unruly hair curling out of its braids, stood at the doorway with the tray of tea and caught Clara whispering to Peter. Greta sprung up and held the door open for her. Giving her brightest smile, Catharine held the tray out toward her mother-in-law. “I’m sorry there’s no dessert this time.”
“What have we here? Where’s the rose tea set that I left for you to use, Peter?” Clara frowned but took a cup of tea, then helped herself to two sugar cubes and lemon. “It’s Royal Doulton, you know. Straight from England and very expensive.”
Catharine felt heat rising up from her neck to her face. “This is what’s left of my mother’s Blue Willow tea set, and I treasure it. Isn’t it pretty?” Catharine was determined not to let Clara’s barb bother her. After pouring her sisters and herself some tea, she took a seat next to Peter on the swing. Peter passed on the tea, preferring his lemonade.
“We are fortunate to have any pieces left at all,” Anna added. “Catharine is quite fond of it. We had a terrible storm at sea that broke most of it.”
“I see,” Clara said, sipping her tea. “It’s good. I’m surprised.”
“Why would you be surprised, Mother?” Peter’s voice still seemed a little too sharp, but he looked at Catharine and flashed her a broad smile.
“No reason, dear.” Changing the subject, she dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Greta mentioned your father was in the shipping industry, Catharine. I would’ve thought you’d want to stay in Holland to inherit it at some point, if you have no brothers.”
Catharine swallowed a lump in her throat. “Our parents died at sea while on a mission for one of his shipping ventures. After they died, we thought it best to leave and start over.”
If Clara was surprised, she didn’t show it outwardly.
Peter reached over and stroked Catharine’s shoulder. She looked down at her teacup and took a sip with trembling hands. Please, Lord, don’t let her ask any more personal questions.
To her relief, Clara stood and set her cup and saucer back on the tray. “Thank you for lunch and the tea. Peter, would you walk me to my buggy?”
“Please come again, Mrs. Andersen,” Catharine said, and her sisters waved goodbye. Now she could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy what was left of their Sunday afternoon.
“So what did you think of our new pastor?” Greta kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her, getting comfortable in the rocking chair.
“He seems nice enough. With a name like Culpepper, I’m sure he gets a few jokes.” Catharine laughed. “I really took a liking to Cora Jenkins, the librarian. We need to go visit the library sometime.”
“Me too!” Anna sat up at the mention of a library. “I wonder if they’d loan me some books.”
Greta shook her head. “ Ja , silly. That’s why it’s called a library.”
Anna stuck her tongue out at her. “I’m not familiar with the ways of Wyoming, and neither are you.”
“We’ll do that soon. I promise.” Catharine leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wondering what was keeping Peter. She was soon asleep in the afternoon breeze.
Peter had followed his mother down the steps into the yard at the end of the drive where Clara’s buggy was parked underneath one of the spreading elm trees.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Clara started her chattering. Pausing next to the buggy, she pulled on her gloves. “Peter, I believe that I have bad news to tell you, and I know of no other way than to just say it.”
“Mother, for heaven’s sake, why
Anna turned and smiled at Peter. “ Dank U , Peter. You make me feel at home. Since I’ve never had a brother, I think I’ll adopt you.”
“I’m honored, Anna.”
When Peter bent to take his mother’s plate, she leaned close to his ear and muttered under her breath, “I must have a private word with you after lunch, dear.”
Catharine, her dress now sticking to her from the hot kitchen and her unruly hair curling out of its braids, stood at the doorway with the tray of tea and caught Clara whispering to Peter. Greta sprung up and held the door open for her. Giving her brightest smile, Catharine held the tray out toward her mother-in-law. “I’m sorry there’s no dessert this time.”
“What have we here? Where’s the rose tea set that I left for you to use, Peter?” Clara frowned but took a cup of tea, then helped herself to two sugar cubes and lemon. “It’s Royal Doulton, you know. Straight from England and very expensive.”
Catharine felt heat rising up from her neck to her face. “This is what’s left of my mother’s Blue Willow tea set, and I treasure it. Isn’t it pretty?” Catharine was determined not to let Clara’s barb bother her. After pouring her sisters and herself some tea, she took a seat next to Peter on the swing. Peter passed on the tea, preferring his lemonade.
“We are fortunate to have any pieces left at all,” Anna added. “Catharine is quite fond of it. We had a terrible storm at sea that broke most of it.”
“I see,” Clara said, sipping her tea. “It’s good. I’m surprised.”
“Why would you be surprised, Mother?” Peter’s voice still seemed a little too sharp, but he looked at Catharine and flashed her a broad smile.
“No reason, dear.” Changing the subject, she dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Greta mentioned your father was in the shipping industry, Catharine. I would’ve thought you’d want to stay in Holland to inherit it at some point, if you have no brothers.”
Catharine swallowed a lump in her throat. “Our parents died at sea while on a mission for one of his shipping ventures. After they died, we thought it best to leave and start over.”
If Clara was surprised, she didn’t show it outwardly.
Peter reached over and stroked Catharine’s shoulder. She looked down at her teacup and took a sip with trembling hands. Please, Lord, don’t let her ask any more personal questions.
To her relief, Clara stood and set her cup and saucer back on the tray. “Thank you for lunch and the tea. Peter, would you walk me to my buggy?”
“Please come again, Mrs. Andersen,” Catharine said, and her sisters waved goodbye. Now she could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy what was left of their Sunday afternoon.
“So what did you think of our new pastor?” Greta kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her, getting comfortable in the rocking chair.
“He seems nice enough. With a name like Culpepper, I’m sure he gets a few jokes.” Catharine laughed. “I really took a liking to Cora Jenkins, the librarian. We need to go visit the library sometime.”
“Me too!” Anna sat up at the mention of a library. “I wonder if they’d loan me some books.”
Greta shook her head. “ Ja , silly. That’s why it’s called a library.”
Anna stuck her tongue out at her. “I’m not familiar with the ways of Wyoming, and neither are you.”
“We’ll do that soon. I promise.” Catharine leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wondering what was keeping Peter. She was soon asleep in the afternoon breeze.
Peter had followed his mother down the steps into the yard at the end of the drive where Clara’s buggy was parked underneath one of the spreading elm trees.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Clara started her chattering. Pausing next to the buggy, she pulled on her gloves. “Peter, I believe that I have bad news to tell you, and I know of no other way than to just say it.”
“Mother, for heaven’s sake, why
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