Read Online A Hope Remembered by Stacy Henrie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stacy Henrie
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death. No amount of explaining could change that.
Perhaps she’d leave off mentioning Colin in her first letter from England.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and pulled her to her feet. Could it be the man she’d been thinking about? Nora jerked the kerchief from her head and stuffed the worn cloth into her apron pocket. If only she’d been able to accomplish more cleaning before Colin’s arrival. She’d hoped to show him a much-improved cottage and not the dusty, dirty one he’d viewed with mild disdain last night.
The person knocked again. Nora hurried down the hall and opened the door. Instead of Colin, a short, buxom woman greeted her, a bright smile on her round cheeks and a covered dish in her hands.
“Hello there.” Her accent sounded more pronounced than Colin’s. “You’d be Nora.”
“Uh…yes, hello.” Nora shook her head in surprise. How did the woman know her name? Had Colin sent her?
“I’m Bess Tuttle. Me and my children live down the lane. Next house you come to.” She tipped her head in the general direction. “I’ve a cottage pie for you, just come from the oven. Didn’t think there was much in the way of food here, not since Henry died. Quite sad we were. He married my mother’s sister—God rest their souls.” She placed a hand on her bosom and lifted her eyes upward for a brief moment. “Henry ’twas a good man and uncle, though a bit gruff at times. Can’t exactly blame him, though, as I’m sure you know. What with losing all his kin, saving our family.”
Bess didn’t pause for breath until she’d finished her welcoming speech. Nora gaped at her. Which of the woman’s many revelations should she respond to first? Her gaze dropped to the pie and she felt instant relief.
“Thank you, for the pie. That was very kind. Won’t you come in?”
Bess handed Nora the dish and swept past her into the house. “Sorry state of things.” She made a tsking noise in her throat as she glanced at the still dusty dining room and parlor.
“Actually, I’ve done quite a bit of—”
The woman went on as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “My Mary and I came over a few days after Henry passed, you see, and did our best to clean up. Not that he was overly untidy, mind you.” She walked into the parlor and ran her hand over the dark fabric of the settee. “I would’ve come several times more, but Mr. Green refused. Once I relinquished the key to him, he wouldn’t give it back. He’s a stodgy one.”
Nora followed Bess down the hall, as if she were the guest rather than the other way around, and set the pie on the kitchen table. She wished she had some tea. Wasn’t that what good British hostesses offered their guests? Embarrassment prickled her skin, making her feel even warmer than before. At home, she would have talked to Bess on the porch, maybe given her a glass of lemonade. But here, she felt out of place, a foreigner in a stranger’s house.
If Bess noticed her discomfort, she didn’t let on. Instead she marched around the room, clucking over the tidiness. “I haven’t seen this room so clean in years. You’ve done good job of putting it to rights, you have.” She glanced out the open back door. “Don’t you worry about your sheep neither. My Jack’s been looking out for them. He’s a right, good young man, he is.”
Nora recalled Colin mentioning something about a Jack Tuttle. “Please thank him for me.”
The woman shooed away her gratitude. “I suspect you can thank him yourself, if you’ve a mind to. We’d like to have you down to our place for supper now and again.”
“That’s very kind—”
“Jack had hoped Henry would give the place to him. Henry has more sheep than we do, but that’s before we’d heard he meant to give the farm to you.” She fanned her face with her hand as if overheated, though she kept right on smiling. “Why look there? If it isn’t Perseus? What’s the Ashbys’ dog doing here and without Mr. Ashby?”
Nora
Perhaps she’d leave off mentioning Colin in her first letter from England.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and pulled her to her feet. Could it be the man she’d been thinking about? Nora jerked the kerchief from her head and stuffed the worn cloth into her apron pocket. If only she’d been able to accomplish more cleaning before Colin’s arrival. She’d hoped to show him a much-improved cottage and not the dusty, dirty one he’d viewed with mild disdain last night.
The person knocked again. Nora hurried down the hall and opened the door. Instead of Colin, a short, buxom woman greeted her, a bright smile on her round cheeks and a covered dish in her hands.
“Hello there.” Her accent sounded more pronounced than Colin’s. “You’d be Nora.”
“Uh…yes, hello.” Nora shook her head in surprise. How did the woman know her name? Had Colin sent her?
“I’m Bess Tuttle. Me and my children live down the lane. Next house you come to.” She tipped her head in the general direction. “I’ve a cottage pie for you, just come from the oven. Didn’t think there was much in the way of food here, not since Henry died. Quite sad we were. He married my mother’s sister—God rest their souls.” She placed a hand on her bosom and lifted her eyes upward for a brief moment. “Henry ’twas a good man and uncle, though a bit gruff at times. Can’t exactly blame him, though, as I’m sure you know. What with losing all his kin, saving our family.”
Bess didn’t pause for breath until she’d finished her welcoming speech. Nora gaped at her. Which of the woman’s many revelations should she respond to first? Her gaze dropped to the pie and she felt instant relief.
“Thank you, for the pie. That was very kind. Won’t you come in?”
Bess handed Nora the dish and swept past her into the house. “Sorry state of things.” She made a tsking noise in her throat as she glanced at the still dusty dining room and parlor.
“Actually, I’ve done quite a bit of—”
The woman went on as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “My Mary and I came over a few days after Henry passed, you see, and did our best to clean up. Not that he was overly untidy, mind you.” She walked into the parlor and ran her hand over the dark fabric of the settee. “I would’ve come several times more, but Mr. Green refused. Once I relinquished the key to him, he wouldn’t give it back. He’s a stodgy one.”
Nora followed Bess down the hall, as if she were the guest rather than the other way around, and set the pie on the kitchen table. She wished she had some tea. Wasn’t that what good British hostesses offered their guests? Embarrassment prickled her skin, making her feel even warmer than before. At home, she would have talked to Bess on the porch, maybe given her a glass of lemonade. But here, she felt out of place, a foreigner in a stranger’s house.
If Bess noticed her discomfort, she didn’t let on. Instead she marched around the room, clucking over the tidiness. “I haven’t seen this room so clean in years. You’ve done good job of putting it to rights, you have.” She glanced out the open back door. “Don’t you worry about your sheep neither. My Jack’s been looking out for them. He’s a right, good young man, he is.”
Nora recalled Colin mentioning something about a Jack Tuttle. “Please thank him for me.”
The woman shooed away her gratitude. “I suspect you can thank him yourself, if you’ve a mind to. We’d like to have you down to our place for supper now and again.”
“That’s very kind—”
“Jack had hoped Henry would give the place to him. Henry has more sheep than we do, but that’s before we’d heard he meant to give the farm to you.” She fanned her face with her hand as if overheated, though she kept right on smiling. “Why look there? If it isn’t Perseus? What’s the Ashbys’ dog doing here and without Mr. Ashby?”
Nora
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