Love Inspired Historical August 2017 Box Set by Dorothy Clark

Author:Dorothy Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488017803
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

Monday morning dawned with the promise of a hot, sticky day ahead. On the way back to the house with the basket of eggs, Mary stopped by the garden to look for some early peas to go with their noon dinner. Noticing some stray lettuce seedlings among the beans, she bent to pull them out, but then saw how many there were. It was as if Sadie had planted the beans and lettuce in the same row.

She left the lettuce where it was and picked a couple handfuls of peas from the vines in front of her for lunch. Continuing on to the house, she paused at the sink in the back porch to wash up. The others were in the kitchen fixing breakfast.

“I want to ask Judith about the knitting pattern she brought over yesterday evening if the girls come this week,” Ida Mae was saying.

Mary set the peas on the counter. “What is the pattern?”

“It’s for stockings that you knit from the toe up, rather than the top down. I’ve never seen one like it. I was trying to figure out how it works last night, but it’s beyond me.”

“Margaret used to make stockings like that,” Aunt Sadie said. She sat at the table, paring potatoes. “Margaret Lapp, Judith and Esther’s mother. I have a pair of stockings she made. I’ll show them to you…” Her voice trailed off as she dropped her knife on the table and started to rise.

Mary put a hand on her shoulder. “You can show us after breakfast. There’s no hurry.”

Aunt Sadie sank back down into her chair. “Ja. No hurry.” She sat with her hands in her lap, a frown creasing her brow.

“What’s wrong?”

The older woman startled and looked at Mary. “What was I doing?”

“You were peeling potatoes.”

Aunt Sadie looked at the paring knife and potatoes on the table, her face vague. Then her brow cleared. “Ach, ja. The potatoes.”

Mary glanced at Ida Mae. This wasn’t the first time they had needed to remind Aunt Sadie of what she had been doing. In the six days since they had arrived, small lapses in their aunt’s memory had been frequent. Perhaps their older relative did need them to take care of her, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.

They finished fixing breakfast in silence, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. As Mary scrambled the eggs, Ida Mae fried the potatoes and onions, the aroma filling the little kitchen.

Mary hoped the move to Indiana would be the healing balm her sister needed. The death of Ida Mae’s young, handsome beau in a farming accident six weeks ago had been a terrible thing, and even though Ida Mae had put on a brave face this morning, grief still shadowed her eyes.

At least Ida Mae’s tragedy gave Mary an excuse whenever someone questioned her own pale face and shadowed eyes. No one needed to know the real reason for her own grief, even her closest sister.

Mary set the table, laying the spoons next to the plates, carefully lining them up next to the knives.

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