Of Needles and Haystacks by Ann Fryer (the beginning after the end novel read TXT) 📕

wide with enthusiasm. Yes, they were indeed there for her. To tote her back to Cedar Gate. It was their pleasure—he lip-read the conversation from his place behind the station.

She juggled the flowers as Charles took her belongings, setting the basket down to keep from dropping the bouquet. Out popped the kitten, and in jumped the pup. The kitten hissed and swiped the pup, the pup, poor thing, hid behind Kate’s skirt, growling pitifully. Peals of laughter later, Dorothy and Kate secured the animals in their arms and rode away. He chuckled to himself. She caught his eye, gave a slight nod. He waved, but kept his distance.

On his way home, he’d meandered by her cottage, stepped in through the unlocked door. She wouldn’t mind. Much had been done.  The plaster had nearly dried. Quarter-sawn ash wood flooring had been evenly fitted into the floor joists. Ernest kindly brought over extra glass panes from a nearby collapsing clapboard house. The good pieces had been used for the farm. Dorothy wouldn’t know or care. Or realize that Ernest had spent a few days laboring for no payment, a sort of quiet penance on behalf of his family.

The chimney had been tuck-pointed, the hearth nicely swept. To the left, an elephant stood. The polished, black, oversized cook stove stood ready to feed an army. What had she been thinking? “It’s gonna take a wheel barrow full of wood to simply boil water.”

He had to admit though. Covered in fancy filigree, it was a beauty. True, but still an abject waste of funds. A two-plate range should have been sufficient. He ran his fingers along the edge. Would she be as happy as she planned?

He hoped so.

Chapter 29

JUNE 7, 1880

I’m told I can move in Friday! Everything is happening so quickly. First, I was completely surprised that the MacDonald’s didn’t bother to come pick me up from the station. I learned later that Charles and Kate had begged the privilege. So unexpected! And sweet. Thankfully, they didn’t speak of our strange connection. Or talk about the cottage, though I suspect this is exactly why they’ve turned up friendly. What am I to do? Pretend they don’t want it back? I don’t wish to be like Uncle, carrying around inaccurate suspicions. Suffice it to say, all three of us behaved with caution.

The maid is in my room, though I have assured her I can clean after myself. She ignored me. Soon, I will do everything alone. Might as well get started.

I have been gifted with another animal! Charles and Kate have given me a rambunctious pup. Little Ruby would love him, help me name the creatures...I miss the dear child! I still often think of Toliver, his precious brown eyes seeking his lost mother, hiding beneath Aunt’s apron. I never knew what joy little ones bring to a household. I doubt Aunt or Uncle will allow Ruby visits.

I hope the pup will make a good watchdog. The animals are in the barn together, and aside from a scratched ear, they are set to be friends. I found them nestled together in the hay-filled stall, fast asleep. A wonder, how two very different species can learn to get along so quickly. If only that were true for humanity. Family, even. The scratch comes first, the healing and friendship later...

I’m downright restless.

My hand continues to mend. I shall have Mrs. MacDonald pull the stitching out tomorrow. A scar will no doubt remain, reminding me to never reach for broken things without a protective glove. Just as James reminded me. And never assume I won’t get hurt for trying to help things move along.

Ernest was just here, Helen unwillingly in tow. We were all seated in the parlor, behaving too formally for the depth of our relationship. She barely spoke or looked at me, but glanced at Chess more than once. Chess behaved like his regular, enthusiastic self. Nothing can bring him down. Not even rejection? No. I know for a fact rejection is difficult. He certainly never had any real love for me. Nevertheless, I was grateful for his distracting presence.

Ernest sat with dirt-stained hands splayed across threadbare knees. Sun-singed cheeks, despite the hat he constantly wore. “I’ve been planting tobacco,” he said. A simple explanation for a good deal of work.

I wondered if he’d question me about the land. I prayed Chess would keep quiet, despite the fact that they knew what I’d done.

Ernest nodded. “Your cottage is looking right nice.”

Chess meandered around the room and mumbled, “Absolutely perfect for a young spinster.”

I caught the spark in his eyes and met his challenge. “I am no spinster.”

“Me either.” Of course, men are never considered on the shelf!

Helen blushed. She needed rescuing. I stood, anxious to get away from Chess’s daring comments. “Come see what I have out in the barn. You’ll love it!”

Helen had no choice but to follow.

I wish now that I had not tried to dull the prickles between us with my furry peacemakers. Nor did I have the ears for what she had to say.

Her words seared me. Her pitiful glare accused. “You never should have come to Paris. We didn’t have any problems whatsoever until you showed up. Why didn’t you stay in Cincinnati?”

Bold, daring, cruel...I would rather have stayed around Chess than to hear these words fall from her lips.

Ernest stepped in, sending a similar glare to Helen. I had no clue he’d followed us. “Shush now! Don’t say another word. You shoulda stayed home.” His disgust was obvious.

“Home?” I asked.

“We’re back at the farm. Gotta lot done with Pa there.”

“Oh.” I’d wished, so wished for them to reach out. Beg me to come back with them. I suppose I’d nipped that possibility in the bud. I guess I knew deep down that they wouldn’t offer. It was wise for me to move on.

Helen walked out of the barn, right into Chess’s fury. “Childish and petulant, are we? Very unbecoming.” His harsh words bit deep. Anguished and humiliated,