She threw the pork ribs into the galvanized
steel sink and pumped water over her hands. After throughly
lathering them with soap and rinsing again, she dried them, and
carefully removed the napkins one by one. Then she took up the
tablecloth, refolded it following the crease lines that Emily had
tried to press out, and laid the linen back in the drawer as though
it were a holy relic. All the while, Emily stood by, feeling both
foolish and angry, and knew that her face was the color of a
rooster’s comb.
“ I’m sorry—I didn’t
know—it’s so beautiful I
thought . . . ”
“ It’s pretty plain that you
didn’t think at all!”
Luke came up the back stairs in time
to hear Cora’s last remark. God, now what? he wondered. He wanted
to turn around and go out to the fields. But that would be the
coward’s way out and he knew it. So he walked in, and the tableau
in front of him was fraught with tension. Cora glared at Emily,
Rose stood like a statue gripping some flowers, and Emily looked as
if she’d been caught stealing.
“ What’s going on
here?”
“ Your wife put out Belinda’s best
tablecloth and napkins, that’s what! We never use her
things!”
Luke had been fighting this for more
than year now. Cora had turned the house into a shrine to Belinda,
making certain that the wound of their grief would never heal. He’d
tried several times to put their wedding picture into a bottom
drawer of his dresser, hoping that if he didn’t have to look at it
every day, the weight on his heart might lighten. He’d also put
away her vanity set that laid next to the photograph. Each time,
Cora had searched for everything and put it all back on top of the
dresser while he was working outside. Finally, he’d given
up.
“ Cora, for God’s sake, it
doesn’t matter that much.”
“ Doesn’t matter!” Her face
turned as red as a gobbler’s. “I guess I’m the only one around here
who has any respect for Belinda’s memory.”
Luke’s stomach tied itself into a tidy
knot. That had been happening more often lately, with the friction
in the house increasing every day. It had begun long before Emily
arrived and had only grown worse since. For the first time since
Cora had moved in, Luke allowed himself to consider what life would
be like if his mother-in-law went back to her own home. For three
years, he’d been doing double work, keeping up his own land and
tending her property too. He’d done it gladly, knowing that having
Cora there was best for Rose. But things were different now with
Emily here. Two women in one kitchen could be bad business. He
didn’t know if Alyssa would have been a better match for this or
not. But it was exactly the kind of thing he didn’t want to think
about. He knew how to grow crops and tend stock. This business with
females locking horns made him wish he could escape to a chore in
the barn.
He knew he couldn’t.
He’d brought Emily Cannon here, for
better or for worse, and he had to stand by his decision. He
couldn’t let Cora Hayward run roughshod over her; he owed her what
he’d promised. His respect and protection. And he wanted his home
and his daughter back.
“ Damn it, Cora, you know
that isn’t true. We’ll never forget Belinda.” He held out his hands
in an open appeal. “How could we? But she’s been gone for three
years now. I don’t see anything wrong with using her
tablecloth.”
Cora put her hands on her hips.
Strands of faded red hair had escaped the tight confines of her bun
and hung from her temples. “Oh, you don’t! Well, if you’re going to
put my daughter’s memory aside, you can do without me,
too!”
“ What are you talking
about?”
“ I’ll just go back to my own
place and you can see how you’ll get along without me.”
Luke sighed. He’d anticipated this
threat and he was tired of being held hostage by it. He knew Cora
expected him to back off and beg her to stay. It was a dance they’d
done several times before. But not
steel sink and pumped water over her hands. After throughly
lathering them with soap and rinsing again, she dried them, and
carefully removed the napkins one by one. Then she took up the
tablecloth, refolded it following the crease lines that Emily had
tried to press out, and laid the linen back in the drawer as though
it were a holy relic. All the while, Emily stood by, feeling both
foolish and angry, and knew that her face was the color of a
rooster’s comb.
“ I’m sorry—I didn’t
know—it’s so beautiful I
thought . . . ”
“ It’s pretty plain that you
didn’t think at all!”
Luke came up the back stairs in time
to hear Cora’s last remark. God, now what? he wondered. He wanted
to turn around and go out to the fields. But that would be the
coward’s way out and he knew it. So he walked in, and the tableau
in front of him was fraught with tension. Cora glared at Emily,
Rose stood like a statue gripping some flowers, and Emily looked as
if she’d been caught stealing.
“ What’s going on
here?”
“ Your wife put out Belinda’s best
tablecloth and napkins, that’s what! We never use her
things!”
Luke had been fighting this for more
than year now. Cora had turned the house into a shrine to Belinda,
making certain that the wound of their grief would never heal. He’d
tried several times to put their wedding picture into a bottom
drawer of his dresser, hoping that if he didn’t have to look at it
every day, the weight on his heart might lighten. He’d also put
away her vanity set that laid next to the photograph. Each time,
Cora had searched for everything and put it all back on top of the
dresser while he was working outside. Finally, he’d given
up.
“ Cora, for God’s sake, it
doesn’t matter that much.”
“ Doesn’t matter!” Her face
turned as red as a gobbler’s. “I guess I’m the only one around here
who has any respect for Belinda’s memory.”
Luke’s stomach tied itself into a tidy
knot. That had been happening more often lately, with the friction
in the house increasing every day. It had begun long before Emily
arrived and had only grown worse since. For the first time since
Cora had moved in, Luke allowed himself to consider what life would
be like if his mother-in-law went back to her own home. For three
years, he’d been doing double work, keeping up his own land and
tending her property too. He’d done it gladly, knowing that having
Cora there was best for Rose. But things were different now with
Emily here. Two women in one kitchen could be bad business. He
didn’t know if Alyssa would have been a better match for this or
not. But it was exactly the kind of thing he didn’t want to think
about. He knew how to grow crops and tend stock. This business with
females locking horns made him wish he could escape to a chore in
the barn.
He knew he couldn’t.
He’d brought Emily Cannon here, for
better or for worse, and he had to stand by his decision. He
couldn’t let Cora Hayward run roughshod over her; he owed her what
he’d promised. His respect and protection. And he wanted his home
and his daughter back.
“ Damn it, Cora, you know
that isn’t true. We’ll never forget Belinda.” He held out his hands
in an open appeal. “How could we? But she’s been gone for three
years now. I don’t see anything wrong with using her
tablecloth.”
Cora put her hands on her hips.
Strands of faded red hair had escaped the tight confines of her bun
and hung from her temples. “Oh, you don’t! Well, if you’re going to
put my daughter’s memory aside, you can do without me,
too!”
“ What are you talking
about?”
“ I’ll just go back to my own
place and you can see how you’ll get along without me.”
Luke sighed. He’d anticipated this
threat and he was tired of being held hostage by it. He knew Cora
expected him to back off and beg her to stay. It was a dance they’d
done several times before. But not
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