Every Perfect Gift (22 page)

Sophie woke, her heart pounding, her nightdress stuck to her hot skin. She sat up in her bed waiting for the dream to dissipate. It had seemed so real. She was eight years old again, and Mrs. Lowell was standing over her bed at the orphanage, insisting that she confess to taking a cornhusk doll belonging to another girl. She hadn’t stolen it, but anytime something disappeared, she was the first to be blamed.

Too shaken now to sleep, she threw off the sheet and lit the oil lamp, her gaze seeking the familiar contours of her hotel room. The flickering light fell on the dull gleam of her silver hairbrush on the dresser, the blue-and-white ewer and basin on the stand by the bed, her hatboxes stacked neatly in the corner. She let out a long breath and crossed to her door.

A seam of light brightened the hallway and soft voices carried from the room across the hall. Mabel and Merribelle were still up, no doubt gossiping about the goings-on up at Blue Smoke. Merribelle laughed, and Sophie felt a pang of sadness mixed with pure old envy. The two young women shared everything.

Until Gillie came along, she had never had a true woman friend, someone who could share her fears and her confidences. But these days Gillie was so busy with plans for opening the infirmary that she barely had time to say hello before rushing off again.

Sophie lifted the curtain and peered onto the empty street. Here and there, gaslights flickered. Crickets chirped. A cat yowled and slunk down the street, casting a thin shadow on the walls. She poured a glass of water from the earthenware pitcher on the dresser and drank it down. Tomorrow she would join Ethan for the trip up to the ridge. She had looked forward to it until the unsettling dream reminded her of her guilt. Her deceit. Her hesitation in setting things straight.

Wyatt and Ada taught her that God was a Father of forgiveness and love. But they also taught her that actions were not without consequence. Were her troubles somehow the result of what she had done . . . or failed to do?

She sat on her bed a long time, pondering. But finally she crawled beneath the sheet and snuffed the light.

“Almost there.”

Ethan paused and offered Sophie his hand as they ascended the steep, narrow trail. They had left his horse and rig in the clearing at the end of the river road and proceeded on foot, Ethan leading the way. In his knapsack was a picnic Li Chung had prepared for them. A faint scent of butter mixed with cinnamon teased Sophie’s nose, and her stomach groaned. Last night, after hours of tossing and turning, she’d finally drifted to sleep. Then she had nearly overslept, and there hadn’t been time for breakfast.

“I didn’t realize this trail was so steep.” Sophie clasped Ethan’s hand and he pulled her up beside him. They paused for breath,
listening to the sultry summer breeze moving through the stands of oak and pine.

“This looks like an old logging trail.” Ethan indicated the deep ruts in the ground. “They must have abandoned it when they discovered a shorter one closer to the rail line.”

Sophie took her handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her face, too worried about her loss of advertising revenue to concentrate on what he was telling her. How on earth would she face Wyatt after he’d shown so much faith in her? And how could she give up work that grew more important to her every day? The little speech she’d delivered to Mr. Blakely during the town council meeting had been more than mere words to her. Maybe it was foolish and naïve to hold on to such lofty goals, but she truly wanted to change things for the better. Now it seemed doubtful she’d have that chance.

“Let’s press on.” Ethan smiled down at her. “I want to reach the summit in time for lunch.”

Bright sunlight filtered through the dense forest, falling across his broad shoulders and lighting his brown hair. Dressed in dungarees and a pale blue shirt, the sleeves rolled to expose his muscular forearms, he looked more handsome than ever. But she couldn’t let herself admire him too much. After today he probably wouldn’t want to see her again.

They clambered along the trail, stepping around tangled undergrowth and exposed tree roots, and soon grew too winded for conversation. At last they reached the top of the ridge that gave the town its name. The valley unfurled beneath their feet, a carpet of dark green dotted with patches of brown. Here and there, behind rows of fences, farmhouses lay scattered like forgotten toys. To her right, a patch of river and the church steeple glittered in the late-summer sunlight.

The air was cool against Sophie’s warm skin. No wonder
Wyatt had brought Ada up here to propose marriage. What woman could resist such a romantic vista, especially when viewed—as Ada had—from a snow-dusted sleigh? Sophie inhaled another draft of air and sighed. Surely this must be how God felt when he surveyed his creation.

“Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?” Ethan set his knapsack down and looked around. “I was hoping to find a more level plot of ground up here for the photographer’s hut, but I suppose I can send a couple of men to take out a few more trees. Getting rid of those big tree roots would expand the space a bit.”

“Seems a shame to cut them down. Wyatt says some of these trees have been here since Indian times.”

Ethan nodded. “You can’t stop progress, though. Once Horace makes up his mind about something, there is no going back. He’s keen to get this enterprise up and running before the end of this season.”

“But won’t he first have to hire someone to take the photographs?”

“He has someone in mind.” Ethan opened his knapsack, spread a small white cloth on the ground, and set out their feast: tantalizing, buttery cinnamon bread stuffed with raisins, a jar of raspberry jam, a hunk of cheese, and a small basket of fruit. He motioned for her to sit, then settled himself beside her. He offered her a plate and polished an apple on his sleeve. “I think he intends to offer the position to Miss Garaphelia Swint.”

Sophie frowned. Where had she heard that name? She bit into the cinnamon bread and sighed. Li Chung certainly had a way with flour and yeast.

“Miss Swint gave some talks at Blue Smoke last month,” Ethan said. “She published a book of photographs last year and seems quite taken with the idea of working up here on the mountain.” He flipped the pages of his leather notebook and showed her a
sketch of a long, low building open on three sides, a stone fireplace anchoring the middle. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll get the job done. Eventually I’ll add some benches and maybe a couple of tables so guests can picnic while they wait their turn for photographs. But Miss Swint is as eager as Mr. Blakely to open for business.”

“I remember that name now.” A little squirrel ventured close and she tossed it a morsel. “I saw it on the flier I printed for you. Her book had something to do with Southern homes and gardens.”

“That’s her.” He tucked away his notebook and eyed the last bit of cheese. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Be my guest. I suppose Miss Swint must be quite the genteel lady.”

Ethan laughed. “Genteel? More like outspoken and intrepid. Opinionated. But I suppose those are good qualities for working up here.” He finished off the cheese, plucked a grape, and popped it into his mouth. “She seems quite determined about everything she does. Sort of like you, Sophie. I admire that in a woman.”

Her face warmed at the compliment. “Thank you, but I’m not sure determination is enough.”

He opened a jar, poured water into two cups, and handed her one. “It seems to have worked for Miss Gilman. I understand the council gave her permission to use the orphanage for her infirmary.”

“Yes. But there’s no money to buy materials for the repairs. Gillie has been asking everyone we can think of for donations, but I doubt we’ll raise enough to buy new windowpanes and replace the rotten clapboards.”

A cardinal called from the low-hanging branches of an ancient oak, his crimson feathers gleaming in the sunlight. Ethan scooted closer to Sophie until their shoulders touched. She swallowed. It was dangerous to be alone with him this way, risking her heart for something that could never be.

“I may be able to help with that,” he said. “We’ve some excess
materials left over from the last phase of construction. There’s not enough to warrant shipping back to the suppliers, just a few odds and ends. But it might be enough to repair the orphanage.”

“That would be wonderful. How much would you charge for them?”

“Not a thing. Consider it my contribution to the welfare of the town.”

“Oh, Ethan. Gillie will be thrilled.”

“Just don’t let Horace find out. He pinches every penny until it hollers.”

“He does seem like a . . . difficult man.”

Ethan nodded. “Horace Blakely insists on having his own way about everything. And he never forgets any perceived wrong, no matter how slight.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped. Of course. That was why most of her customers had suddenly deserted her. Horace Blakely had found a way to pay her back for her infamous editorial and to teach her a lesson for being on the wrong side of the argument with the town council. Anger burned inside her. An ordinary person could never win against the rich and powerful. Why had she been so reckless?

“. . . let me know.”

“I’m sorry.” She managed a shaky smile. “I was lost in thought. Gillie will be ecstatic to learn this news. It’s most generous, Ethan. How can I ever thank you?”

He grinned, leaned closer, and tapped his cheek. “Little kiss right here will do nicely.”

Despite all warnings to herself, she wanted to kiss him. And this would be her only chance. Once he knew the truth, he would want nothing more to do with her. She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He turned his deep blue gaze on her, and she was lost. He
clasped her arms, sending a river of warmth flowing through her. “I said once I’d never kiss you again until we both wanted it.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Well, I want it very much right now,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “How about you?”

“Ethan—”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He gave a soft little laugh and her heart sped up. Ethan seemed to have that effect on her these days. His lips claimed hers, and all caution dissipated like mountain fog. She went willingly into his arms and gave herself over to the clean, woodsy scent of his skin, the warmth of his lips on hers. How wonderful it was to be held this way, to be wanted. But this one kiss, the memory of it, would have to last forever.

At last they drew apart and sat silently, their gazes locked, afraid to speak and break the spell. At last Ethan let out a long breath and got to his feet. “Let’s pack up and look around a bit more. Maybe there’s a better spot for Miss Swint’s hut on down the ridge.”

She picked up their dishes and cups and folded the white cloth, blotting at a red smear of jam. Ethan stuffed everything into his knapsack and they set off, his hand clasping hers. A bit farther along the trail they came to a large clearing overlooking a wide expanse of the river below and the gently undulating mountain peaks beyond.

With his free hand, Ethan shaded his eyes and looked out over the valley. “This place is perfect. Plenty of space to erect a pavilion and the best view in town. I have to admit, Horace may be on to something. Not only will our guests leave with a memorable photograph; they’ll show it to their friends, and then those people will want to come here too. Free advertising.”

Advertising. The beauty of the afternoon vanished in the wake of new worry. Now that she knew what Horace Blakely was up to,
she’d have to figure out some way around his scheme. She couldn’t really blame Mr. Pruitt and Miss Hattie and the rest of them for withdrawing their business. No doubt Horace Blakely had issued an ultimatum: withdraw their notices or face his censure. But she couldn’t think of that now.

“You’re right. It is perfect, Ethan.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry for this day to end, but we ought to start back.”

“Yes.” She looked up into his face and was overcome with fear and guilt. Robbie’s words came back to her, filling the space between her and Ethan before settling into her heart. She had to follow through with her plan to tell the truth, even as her conflicted thoughts beat like trapped birds inside her chest.

She briefly closed her eyes.
Please, Lord, give me courage. And
please let Ethan understand
.

“Ethan? There’s something I must tell you. Something I should have told you long before now.”