Buckeye Dreams (53 page)

Read Buckeye Dreams Online

Authors: Jennifer A. Davids

BOOK: Buckeye Dreams
4.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A clear, cold December day had given way to a fiery purple dusk as Anne made her way to the stable with Scioto’s feed. She’d been fixing it for two weeks now, and when she delivered it in the evenings, she always lingered in the stable, watching Scioto eat and afterward talking with Peter as he groomed him. She smiled as she knocked her foot against the door. When had they started calling each other by their Christian names? She couldn’t be sure, but she knew that because of their talks, her heart felt lighter than it had in months. It didn’t make her departure any easier, but it didn’t hang over her head like it had been. The door to the stable opened, and she came face-to-face with Peter’s devilish grin.

“What took you so long?”

Anne smiled reprovingly as she walked in. “I’m right on time as always.”

“Of course you are.” He shut the door. “I could set my watch by you.” He lifted the latch that secured the top half of the stable door and pushed it open, as always. It made the stable a little chilly, but at least no one could accuse them of impropriety. Mrs. Werner had a clear view of them from the kitchen window.

“Here, let me take that from you.” He poured the feed into Scioto’s tub and set the pot down near the door for Anne to take with her when she went back inside. He leaned against the stable door next to her as they watched Scioto eat. “How’s life in the library?”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Suffocating, literally.”

“What do you mean?”

“When the Main Building isn’t one big block of ice, it stinks of sulfur fumes. Our new janitor can’t seem to get the gas to work right.”

Peter shook his head. “Mike tried to warn the board Mr. Pryce wasn’t the man for the job.”

“Well, it goes without saying that everyone misses you and Mike. I wish someone would help the poor man.”

“Maybe I should go see him tomorrow after I have Scioto settled.”

“Are you sure you should do that?” Peter had told her about his run-ins with the man. She didn’t like the idea of him possibly being goaded into a fight.

“I might be able to help him. It’s the right thing to do.” Scioto finished eating, and Peter fetched the grooming kit from the tack room. Anne watched him in silence for a few minutes.

“Peter, what happened that made you become a tramp?”

His back was to her, but she could tell the question bothered him as his brushstrokes slowed. In all their conversations, he’d never really brought up his past. He’d told her a few stories about working with Mr. Farley, but never anything about his childhood or who had raised him.

“Necessity,” he replied.

“Did your family fire you? Or sell the stable?”

“The stable was sold.”

“Then why didn’t you get a job at another stable? I don’t understand why your family would let you go homeless.”

Peter turned and came over to the stall door. He looked gravely into her eyes. “Anne, my family and I had a falling out. I wasn’t the best of men before I came here, and there are things in my past I’m not proud of. But I’m different now—a new creation, thanks to God—and I just want to leave all that behind me.”

Anne nodded. She certainly understood what he meant about being ashamed of things in his past. Her eyes flicked to the stable floor. Her natural father had certainly given her nothing to be proud of. Peter ducked his head, catching her eye. She raised her eyes, and he cocked his head at her. “Are you all right?”

She smiled slightly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He studied her face. “You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“All right.” He squeezed her hand then turned to continue grooming Scioto.

Anne was glad his back was to her again, so he wouldn’t see the effect his touch had on her. Heat flew to her cheeks and a delicious thrill flowed from her head to her toes. She bit her lip as she tried to tamp it down. She had no business letting herself feel something for this man—this handsome, wonderful, faithful man who sometimes let her groom Scioto when there was time before dinner, and who seemed to actually admire her ability with horses. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man and more. She screwed her eyes shut.
Stop it
.

She would be gone in a few weeks. The school outside Topeka expected her, and the Topeka Insane Asylum had written to tell her they had room for her father. The letters were tucked in the waist of her skirt, beneath her bodice. She patted them to make sure they were still there. The only thing she had yet to do was speak to her father’s doctor in Columbus. She wondered if Peter planned to go back to the asylum to visit the friend he’d told her about. The question was on the tip of her tongue when he spoke first.

“I enjoyed Reverend Aylsworth’s lesson, yesterday.” He smiled at her over the top of Scioto’s back. Reverend Aylsworth was their pastor at Central Christian Church in Columbus.

“He preached on your favorite passage, didn’t he? The Twenty-Third Psalm.” As hard as it had been to hear the sermon, she was glad Peter enjoyed it.

“It helped me keep my head together before I faced Mayor Walcutt.” He finished grooming Scioto, unhooked the lead, and took off his halter. The horse nuzzled him, and he rubbed Scioto’s nose in return. He stepped out of the stall and paused in front of her. “I’ve been praying that for you.”

“What?” She wished he’d tell her as he took the grooming bucket back to the tack room. It would be so much easier to breathe.

“That God would restore your soul. You still seem sad sometimes, like you were a minute ago.”

“I’m fine, Peter.”

“Are you praying again?”

She nodded. She had started to pray again. Sort of. She prayed God would take away these feelings she had for him. If He didn’t, leaving in a few weeks would be sheer torture.

“I’m glad.” He didn’t move, and Anne found herself getting lost in the green of his eyes. Mesmerized, she took a step closer to him. Just then, a nicker and a dark head appeared between them, and she all but cried out in relief.

“We should get inside. I’m sure Mrs. Werner has dinner ready,” she said.

Peter shook himself, looking almost as relieved as she, and as she watched him walk to the tack room to put away the grooming bucket, she couldn’t help wondering why. Was it because he also felt something? Or because he didn’t?

“I still don’t believe I did it,” Anne said. “I actually fried an egg!”

“And I actually ate it,” Dr. Kirby remarked, grinning. “And I’m still breathing.”

Peter grinned at the semi-withering look she sent her uncle as the three of them walked toward the Main Building. Since he’d wanted to help Harvey with the heat today, he’d gotten up extra early and beaten Anne to the kitchen. Once he fed and watered Scioto, he came in to find her disappointed that the chore was already done. To make up for it, he taught her how to fry an egg.

“I told you it wasn’t that hard,” he said. “If I can do it, anyone can.”

“If
you
can?” Dr. Kirby mused.

Peter looked over Anne to the professor, expecting to see that curious look of his. Instead, he was greeted by a knowing smile. Uncertain what to make of it, Peter gave him a half grin and looked out at the new coat of snow.

“Looks like Christmas will be white if the weather holds,” Peter said.

“Yes,” Anne replied softly. He glanced down at her. She had that sad, wistful look on her face again, the same one he’d tried hard not to kiss away in the stable yesterday.

He returned his gaze to the snow-covered campus.
Thank You for letting Scioto interrupt, Lord. A few seconds more and she’d have been in his arms. You sent me to help her, not break her heart. I’ll try to be more self-controlled
. But even as he prayed, he felt a disappointment he didn’t quite understand. He pushed it away as they approached the Main Building.

“Well, Peter,” the professor said. “I sincerely hope your time with Mr. Pryce will be fruitful.”

“Thank you, sir. I hope your day goes well, too.”

“Oh, it will, my boy, it will.” He looked almost gleeful.

Anne noticed it as well and gave him a quizzical look as he kissed her cheek. “Are you feeling all right, Uncle Daniel?”

“The difficulties with the heat have given me the beginnings of a cold, I’m afraid,” he replied. Peter couldn’t help but grin at the look of consternation on Anne’s face. That hadn’t been the answer she was looking for. Dr. Kirby either didn’t notice or pretended not to as he went on. “Are you coming up with me?”

“I think I’ll wait for Emma. She should be along any moment,” she replied slowly.

“Tell her I said ‘hello’ then,” Dr. Kirby said. Nodding to Peter, he turned and walked up the stairs and went inside.

“I’m glad to see him so happy,” Anne said as she and Peter looked after him. “I just can’t imagine why he is.”

“He’s up to something,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“My granddad used to get the same look in his eye. It always meant—” He stopped himself as he realized what he’d just said. He hazarded a look at Anne. Despite that they weren’t related by blood, Peter couldn’t help noticing she and Dr. Kirby had similar expressions of curiosity.

He sighed. “All right, you caught me. My grandfather raised me after my mother died when I was a toddler.”

“Oh Peter, I’m so sorry. What happened to your father?”

“He abandoned my mother before I was born. I’ve never met him.”

He was glad they were standing outside with students walking here and there on their way to class. The look of sympathy on her face was so endearing, he struggled not to embrace her.

“I haven’t seen my uncle look that happy since before Aunt Kitty died,” she said.

“Aunt Kitty? You mean his wife, Katherine?”

“Yes. That was my own special name for her. My brother and sister called her Aunt Katherine, but to me, she was always Aunt Kitty.” The corners of her mouth curled thoughtfully. “It’s because I always heard Uncle Daniel calling her Kat.”

“I saw her picture on the mantel in the parlor,” Peter said. “She seemed like a very kind and gracious lady.”

“Oh, she was.” Anne’s smile grew as she recalled her aunt. “I loved listening to her talk. She was from South Carolina.”

“Really? Did your uncle meet her during the war?” Peter asked. He recalled the professor telling him he’d been a major in the Union army.

“No, she came north after the war ended. A lot of people didn’t like that she was Southern, but Uncle Daniel didn’t care. In spite of everything, he loved her anyway …” The sad look returned to her eyes.

Peter frowned.
She deserves to be happy, he thought. And I’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of my life making her that way
. His heart nearly stopped in shock. He stared at Anne, looking at her in a way he’d never looked at another woman. He plumbed the brown depths of her eyes, and Anne’s cheeks, already crimson from the cold, became even more so, and she looked away.

“Good morning.”

They both started. Emma Long stood before them.

“Good morning,” Anne said, her voice breathless with relief. “Emma, do you remember Mr. Ward? He used to work for Mike.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “I thought I recognized you. You certainly look different without that beard!”

Peter tore his eyes away from Anne long enough to tip his hat. “Thank you, Miss Long.” He looked back at Anne, who still avoided his gaze.

Emma locked arms with Anne, her eyes dancing. “We should get inside; it’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“Yes, of course.” Anne quickly glanced at him as she turned to leave. “Take care today. I’ll see you later.”

Peter nodded and watched as she and Miss Long walked up the steps of the Main Building. His mind still whirled. He couldn’t quite believe it. For the first time in his life, he found himself truly and deeply in love.

Chapter 13

Y
ou’ve come to gloat, haven’t you?”

Harvey Pryce stood outside the boiler house, his arms crossed. Peter had stood what seemed like forever outside the building, waiting for him to show up. Pryce looked anything but happy to see him.

“Who sent you? Mr. Cope?”

“No one sent me. I heard about your problem and wanted to help.”

“I don’t need your help!”

“Harvey, we both know the buildings aren’t being heated properly,” Peter said. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Other books

The Life We Bury by Allen Eskens
Soft Focus by Jayne Ann Krentz
Final Score by Michelle Betham
A Cat Tells Two Tales by Lydia Adamson
Before the Poison by Peter Robinson
El caballero del templo by José Luis Corral