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Authors: Miralee Ferrell
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eat downstairs with everyone else.”
“There’s no need. Besides, we’ve all finished, and Ma’s cleaning the kitchen. She told me to bring this up and see if you felt like eating.” Lucy set it on the bureau and grinned. “Mandy’s helping with the dishes, so I’m not eager to return. It’s time my little sister did more chores, even if she is seven years old. I’ve been doing my share for years now.”
Beth worked to keep from laughing. The girl was thirteen, so it hadn’t been too many years since Lucy was her sister’s age, and no doubt had been as carefree at seven. “I thank you kindly for bringing it up, but Aunt Wilma could have brought it.”
Wilma nodded. “I told her, but she insisted.” She shot the girl a playful look, her lips twitching. “Now I understand why.”
Lucy dipped her head. “Oh, I’ll help plenty when I get back downstairs. Ma will see to that, and if she doesn’t, Grandma will.” She heaved a sigh. “Ever since Grandma came, she’s made sure we do our share. Not that I mind too much, but I do enjoy fishing with Zachary whenever I can slip away.”
Beth quirked a brow. “I imagine your mother appreciates the fresh fish you and Mr. Jacobs’s son catch. It adds to the larder and certainly makes for some tasty meals.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, I’d best get back to the kitchen before Ma sends Mandy looking for me. I do hope your knee will be better soon.” She turned toward the door, then stopped. “I forgot. Ma sent this up.” She tugged at the deep pocket of her apron and extracted a glass bottle. “It’s liniment for your knee. Grandma says it helps her gout, and it’s good for what ails you, sore knees and all.”
Beth waited until the girl shut the door carefully behind her, then stood and limped to the bureau.
“What are you doing?” Aunt Wilma demanded. “Trying to make your injury worse? That’s why we brought breakfast up, so you could rest.”
“I’m getting stiff and need to move for a bit. Besides, it’s not as bad today, and I’m sure the liniment will help. Since I overslept, I’m not staying in this bed a minute longer than I must, even if I can’t go outside for a walk.” She took the tray to the wingback chair in the corner and settled into it. “Smells wonderful. Bacon and eggs and hot tea. My favorite.”
The next few minutes passed in silence as Aunt Wilma allowed Beth to eat without attempting to engage in conversation. Beth took the final bite of scrambled eggs and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I realized last night that I’d forgotten to ask you to bring my sketchbook directly to my room. I wonder if you’d mind dropping it by so I can get some work done. If I have to be cooped up resting my knee, I can at least be productive.”
“Oh my.” Aunt Wilma placed her hand over her heart and plopped on the edge of the bed.
A cold wave of dread washed over Beth as the color drained from her aunt’s face. “What?” She set the tray aside and pushed to her feet. “Are you ill?”
Wilma gazed up at her. “No. But I’m afraid you might be after I tell you.”
Beth gripped her aunt’s shoulders and squeezed. “What is wrong, Auntie?”
“I’m so sorry, Beth. I know it meant a lot to you, and I can’t believe I got busy and forgot. Please forgive me.” Her words dropped to a whisper.
Beth sank onto the mattress next to her aunt. “You didn’t look for my sketch pad? Auntie, how could you!”
Aunt Wilma didn’t speak.
“Are you sure you forgot?” Beth jumped to her feet, pushing aside the knifing pain in her knee. She did her best to keep her voice level and calm, but it shook with the effort. “Yesterday you said my work is foolish, and you think I should stop. Well, I won’t. And if I can’t find my sketch pad myself, I’ll go to town and buy another one. I can’t replace what I lost, but I will not give up my work.”
Wilma pressed her fingers over her lips. “Let me, please. I’m so sorry.” She
“There’s no need. Besides, we’ve all finished, and Ma’s cleaning the kitchen. She told me to bring this up and see if you felt like eating.” Lucy set it on the bureau and grinned. “Mandy’s helping with the dishes, so I’m not eager to return. It’s time my little sister did more chores, even if she is seven years old. I’ve been doing my share for years now.”
Beth worked to keep from laughing. The girl was thirteen, so it hadn’t been too many years since Lucy was her sister’s age, and no doubt had been as carefree at seven. “I thank you kindly for bringing it up, but Aunt Wilma could have brought it.”
Wilma nodded. “I told her, but she insisted.” She shot the girl a playful look, her lips twitching. “Now I understand why.”
Lucy dipped her head. “Oh, I’ll help plenty when I get back downstairs. Ma will see to that, and if she doesn’t, Grandma will.” She heaved a sigh. “Ever since Grandma came, she’s made sure we do our share. Not that I mind too much, but I do enjoy fishing with Zachary whenever I can slip away.”
Beth quirked a brow. “I imagine your mother appreciates the fresh fish you and Mr. Jacobs’s son catch. It adds to the larder and certainly makes for some tasty meals.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, I’d best get back to the kitchen before Ma sends Mandy looking for me. I do hope your knee will be better soon.” She turned toward the door, then stopped. “I forgot. Ma sent this up.” She tugged at the deep pocket of her apron and extracted a glass bottle. “It’s liniment for your knee. Grandma says it helps her gout, and it’s good for what ails you, sore knees and all.”
Beth waited until the girl shut the door carefully behind her, then stood and limped to the bureau.
“What are you doing?” Aunt Wilma demanded. “Trying to make your injury worse? That’s why we brought breakfast up, so you could rest.”
“I’m getting stiff and need to move for a bit. Besides, it’s not as bad today, and I’m sure the liniment will help. Since I overslept, I’m not staying in this bed a minute longer than I must, even if I can’t go outside for a walk.” She took the tray to the wingback chair in the corner and settled into it. “Smells wonderful. Bacon and eggs and hot tea. My favorite.”
The next few minutes passed in silence as Aunt Wilma allowed Beth to eat without attempting to engage in conversation. Beth took the final bite of scrambled eggs and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I realized last night that I’d forgotten to ask you to bring my sketchbook directly to my room. I wonder if you’d mind dropping it by so I can get some work done. If I have to be cooped up resting my knee, I can at least be productive.”
“Oh my.” Aunt Wilma placed her hand over her heart and plopped on the edge of the bed.
A cold wave of dread washed over Beth as the color drained from her aunt’s face. “What?” She set the tray aside and pushed to her feet. “Are you ill?”
Wilma gazed up at her. “No. But I’m afraid you might be after I tell you.”
Beth gripped her aunt’s shoulders and squeezed. “What is wrong, Auntie?”
“I’m so sorry, Beth. I know it meant a lot to you, and I can’t believe I got busy and forgot. Please forgive me.” Her words dropped to a whisper.
Beth sank onto the mattress next to her aunt. “You didn’t look for my sketch pad? Auntie, how could you!”
Aunt Wilma didn’t speak.
“Are you sure you forgot?” Beth jumped to her feet, pushing aside the knifing pain in her knee. She did her best to keep her voice level and calm, but it shook with the effort. “Yesterday you said my work is foolish, and you think I should stop. Well, I won’t. And if I can’t find my sketch pad myself, I’ll go to town and buy another one. I can’t replace what I lost, but I will not give up my work.”
Wilma pressed her fingers over her lips. “Let me, please. I’m so sorry.” She
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