Beneath the Apple Leaves(43)
Eveline gathered the last of the clothes and hustled them tight against her abdomen. Lily came outside and huffed when she saw her brother-in-law. She pushed past Frank. “I can take those for you,” she offered. Lily shimmied in front of Eveline as she handed off the clothes.
“Frank, don’t you need to get going?” Lily suggested roughly. “Thought you were heading out.”
“No, I got time.” He pointed to the load in her hands. “Better get those rinsed before the mud sets.” Grudgingly, Lily turned back to the kitchen, peeking back several times before losing them in view.
“Gorgeous day, eh?” Frank said simply. “Enjoy it while you can. Feeling the cold inching from the north already.”
She could still feel the heat against her waist where his strong hands had touched. “Are you looking for Wilhelm?” she asked as the guilt plucked.
“No. Heading to Pittsburgh today. Wanted to see if you needed anything.”
“That’s very kind of you. I’m sorry Wilhelm’s not here for you to ask.”
“No disrespect to your husband, but the question was for you. Can’t find too many pretty lady things in the country.”
The phrase was completely innocent, yet her mind spontaneously tied “lady things” to undergarments and she blushed. “Thank you, but no. I don’t believe I need anything.”
Frank looped a finger through a belt ring, seemed to smell the air. “How’s Lily doing? She helping you?”
“Lily’s been a godsend. Not sure how I ever managed without her.”
He nodded in approval. “Good. Glad to hear it.” His face turned soft. “It’s been hard taking care of her and Claire all these years. Not complaining, mind you, just been hard trying to do what’s best for them.”
With the confiding tone, Eveline relaxed. Frank’s large face was open and vulnerable. His forehead wrinkled right in the center as if a pea pressed against the skin.
Frank twisted his thin wedding ring around his finger, his hands large and fine. “Have to apologize for my wife not paying a visit. She’s a very shy woman. Gets nervous leaving the house. But I’ll have Lily bring her over one day so you can meet.” He smirked apologetically. “She’s a lovely woman, but anxious. But you’ll see what I’m talking about. Takes a lot of work keeping her calm. Mind you, I’m not complaining, just makes it hard always trying to keep things smooth so she doesn’t have to worry.”
“I’m sure she’s lovely.” Eveline moved closer and their shadows overlapped. She wondered how such a fine man could be married to a woman so fragile. “Looking forward to meeting her.”
He read her mind. “Guess I got a bit of the rescuer in me. Claire and Lily came from a bad home. Their father was a brute. Treated them real bad. Once he died, I came in, felt like I had to take care of them.” Frank bowed his head mournfully. “Let’s just say a whipping post had an easier life than my wife did.”
Eveline listened with her whole body. “I had no idea.”
He met her eyes. His were so tender, so soft, and she felt like she knew him as she would an old friend. A terrible thought entered. “What about Lily? Please tell me, he didn’t harm that girl?”
Frank shook his head. “No. Claire always protected her. Till the day her father died, Claire wouldn’t let him touch her. Paid for it dearly, too.” He looked at her almost pleadingly. “See why I had to step in? Poor woman had it rough enough without having to run that house by herself.” He laughed then and smiled wryly. “Course, bit of a change from my bachelor days, suddenly with a wife and a child to support. And Lily can be difficult at times. I’m not her father, so she don’t like to listen much.”
Eveline placed a hand on his shoulder, felt the strong muscle that connected to the tan neck. “You’re a good man.”
He took the compliment lightly. “We do what we can to make things right, don’t we, Eveline?”
She squeezed the shoulder, realized she touched him. She pulled her hand away, didn’t want to let go of the fabric. “Stay right here, Mr. Morton. I’m going to bring you out some lemonade.”
“It’s Frank, remember!” he hollered back amicably.
When she came back, he was raking out an old tangled mess near a fallen fence. “Know you have grapevines out here?”
“Really?” Eveline put the tray on the stool and looked at the spot he tilled.
“Concord, far as I can see. Bet this whole stretch is lined with them. You build some new rods and pull up the vines with string, you’ll have yourself a lovely vineyard.”
If he had produced a rainbow with his words, she couldn’t have been happier. She already envisioned the vines vibrant and clustered with purple grapes by autumn.
“Well, I can promise you one thing, Mr.—I mean Frank—the first batch of jam is coming your way.”
She picked up a glass of lemonade and offered it to him, the action reminding him of something. He held up a finger for her to wait while he picked up a brown box and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” Her eyes widened.
“Open it.”
She knew she was blushing, the heat creeping all the way to her hairline. She opened the cardboard flaps and pulled out the Waterford pitcher. “I don’t believe it,” she said. She stared at the crystal, rotated it in her hands. “It’s the same one that I had. The one that broke.”