A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(91)
My dear sisters,
This is a letter I hoped I would not have to write, but Wiesel is back in town. He went on a rampage like you would not believe, even when we showed him the grave in the cemetery. I know we did not tell you this yet, but we planted a rock in the cemetery with Climie’s name on it.
Lark stared at her sisters, and they all burst into disbelieving laughter. They’d pretended to bury Climie so that so-called husband of hers would never come looking for her? Del nearly choked. Never would she have dreamed her straitlaced brother might think of such a thing, let alone do it.
Of course, there is nothing beneath it, and it is not a true headstone, but when Josephine suggested it, I couldn’t help but comply. I truly believed he would never return to town. It took some scratching to get a semblance of her name on it. I am letting you know this since he left town again, threatening—as always—to get even.
Jonah is getting restless to come out there, saying he would be of more use there. We are thinking nearer to spring, when he can bring seeds and starts like I did. You’ve not mentioned how well the starts did. Those we kept here have done very well. Even Ma’s rosebush. I think we should name it Leah’s Rose and make it the emblem of our products.
Lark looked up, shaking her head. “Is this our Anders?”
Lilac chuckled. “What I can’t believe is that Wiesel actually had the nerve to show his face back in town.”
I must get this in the mail. Congratulations on your progress with the boardinghouse. RJ must be working miracles or have an amazing crew or both.
We are all well, and our little dandelion is sprouting up, all bright and cheerful, although her hair is just now growing in. Her mother has tried to tie a ribbon on top, but that is not yet possible. We send you our love and always our prayers.
Your brother Anders and family
Lark laid the letter on the table in the circle of lamplight. “I hope their fa?ade holds and the weasel doesn’t try to come here.”
“Don’t even think that. This has to be one of those trust-God situations. Climie is still out helping the Kinsleys, isn’t she?” Del rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day, and she had a stack of papers to grade. But Anders’s letter had been more important.
“Yes, but Margaret is gaining strength. I so wish we could find her older son.”
“Mr. Caldwell is looking into it. Mr. Jorgensen received money from him once to apply to the store account.” Del had heard that from RJ when he stopped at the school today. Something he was doing more and more lately, which fed a gentle warmth in her middle.
“That poor woman deserves some good news.” Lark closed her eyes.
Del nodded, her heart aching for Margaret Kinsley. Her husband dying nearly in her arms and buried not far from their sod house. Now she and the children had to learn how to go on without him. At least Bethany and John were attending class again, and she could read a burden lifted in their eyes despite the grief.
Once October had rolled into November, Del met Lark at the boardinghouse one day to find the cookstove being delivered. They stood in awe at the crates that filled two wagons.
“It finally got here,” RJ called to them as the men leaned against the wagon to catch their breath. “What brought you to town?”
“Just my usual visit to the boardinghouse.” Lark shook her head, staring. “I was beginning to fear the stove had gotten lost—or worse, stolen. It’s been so long since we placed the order.”
Del poked her. “I think this might be a bit difficult to steal.”
They backed the wagon as close to the boardinghouse door as possible, and four of the men hefted the largest crate inside first and then the others. As they pried the crates apart, the shiny black-and-chrome stove body emerged.
Lark clasped her hands to her chest, shaking her head and chuckling. Del couldn’t stop the grin stretching her face. She’d never seen such a large cookstove in her life—not that she’d been in hotel kitchens before. Wait until Climie saw this. She glanced over to see the men staring at it as hard as she was.
“We’ll have to cook a special meal on it once you men get it all connected. Inaugurate both the stove and the boardinghouse. What do you think?” Del asked.
Jesse nodded. “We c-could invite all the men who’ve worked on it.”
“A splendid idea.” Lark smiled at him. “RJ, please spread the word.”
The next evening, they gathered in the dining room of Nielsen House, as the sign Jesse was carving would soon proclaim for everyone to see. Forsythia, Adam, and their children came, along with Jesse and Climie. The guests of honor were RJ and William, Lars, Mike, Paddy, and the rest of the workers who’d stayed sober and worked so hard to build the boardinghouse to completion. Or at least, as close as it would get for now. No doubt they would be adding to it and improving it for years, and the upstairs still remained one long room.
The O’Rourke family had been invited but sent their regrets, as Iris had a cold. It was just as well, as it would have been a tight squeeze to add six more.
Lark, Del, Lilac, and Climie bustled between the kitchen and the huge table in the dining room, bearing steaming platters and bowls.
“I just can’t get over this stove.” Climie gazed at it again in awe, wiping her hands on her apron. “Six big pots going at once and room to spare. Can you imagine?”