Wildflower Words by Sam Ledel

Author:Sam Ledel
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636790565
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2021-12-05T02:14:01+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Once her father left for work with William, Lida readied Beth, then rode down the mountain into Pine City. Each time she visited, the bustle of the city had become increasingly jarring. Sights and sounds that had once been as familiar as her own face now seemed too loud, too much compared to the peaceful hillsides of Cedar Springs. Still, she did appreciate the city and its commodities, as she stopped into the butcher’s and picked up a pound of steak to surprise the Seagers with. Her pay from the Pack Horse Library, while not grand, was still a pleasant addition to her father’s income. She tucked the delicacy into her saddlebag.

It was nearly eleven by the time she made it to the Havishes’. She’d asked after their address when she’d exchanged materials at the church. Dottie had given her directions, hardly looking up from the red, white, and blue quilt she was working on which, Lida learned, was to be auctioned at the social. Apparently, some of the folks of Pine City climbed up the mountain once a year to mingle with their neighbors.

Securing Beth to the black iron gate, Lida took in the two-story Victorian house. It sat at the top of a keyhole road off the main street, the paved concrete lined with lampposts marking each home’s front drive. Like the Havish’s, each lawn was framed by front gates standing guard over trimmed green lawns and rosebushes. Sunshine brightened the blue sky on another early warm summer day.

On the wide, ornate front porch, Lida removed her hat and knocked. Moments later, an old woman with dark brown hair and dark eyes opened the door. For a moment, Lida thought she’d fallen back in time and was staring at one of her neighbors from the old country. But there was no recognition in the woman’s gaze, and Lida knew it wasn’t her. Still, she recognized the features of a countrywoman in her thin frame, which barely filled the confines of her black and white maid’s outfit.

“Good morning,” Lida said. “Is Mrs. Havish home?”

“Who’s calling?” Her accent was thicker than Lida’s father’s.

“Miss Jones. Lida Jones.”

The woman gave a curt nod, then closed the door. After several minutes, it was opened wide by Mrs. Havish.

“Miss Jones! What a surprise. Come in, come in.” The maid took Lida’s hat and coat. Mrs. Havish, wearing low heels and a matching red dress as fashionable as the last one Lida had seen her in, motioned for her to follow. “Whatever brings you this way, Miss Jones?” she asked, returning to a wing-back leather chair in a parlor room off the main entry. Lida blinked at the chandelier hanging overhead, its dozen or so electric bulbs waiting for the sun to go down in order to dazzle the room. Meanwhile, sunlight from the window grazed the patterned wallpaper and a plethora of fringed lampshades that encircled the room. Mrs. Havish picked up a newspaper from a tea tray. “Is everything going all right? We left your pay at the church.

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