A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(96)

Tears blurred Del’s vision. She pressed her hand tight over Lark’s, then hurried to welcome them.

“It’s so good to see you, Margaret.” Gently, Del embraced Mrs. Kinsley, the ponderance of her belly between them.

“Sorry we’re so late.” Margaret pulled back with a faint smile, then took the arm of the lanky young man beside her. “Miss Nielsen, this is my oldest son, Alexander. He was workin’ way west of here on the railroad and finally got the telegram the doctor sent to one of the towns along their way.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Del said.

Alexander shook her hand. He was quiet, but he met her eyes frankly. She liked him.

“Home again, thanks be to God.” Margaret glanced up at him, pride mingled with the grief lining her face. “I’m hopin’ he might find a job closer to home, but we got all the fall work to do on the farm first.”

“I’m sure some of the men in town might be able to help again. In the meantime, please come get some dinner.” Del gestured toward the tables. “There’s still plenty left.”

Bethany and John looked at their mother and, at her nod, ran for dishes.

Del helped fill a plate for Mrs. Kinsley, then Alexander. She scanned the gathering for a welcoming spot. There, the Weber family, sitting on another lumber pile. She’d never seen Rebecca Weber be anything less than kind to everyone.

“May we join you?” Del smiled at Rebecca, who held her littlest one on her lap. Her other children were off making a game of picking up chunks of leftover lumber and tossing them on a growing pile. Her husband and all the other men were back to working on the schoolhouse.

Rebecca looked up, smiled at Mrs. Kinsley, and stood. “Of course. Here, you sit in my place on that blanket.”

Together, she and Del settled Margaret with another folded blanket behind her so she could lean against the Webers’ picnic basket.

“Sorry to be such trouble,” Margaret murmured, her pale face flushing from the effort.

“No trouble at all. Goodness, with this last one, I felt I needed a locomotive to haul me around at the end.” Rebecca held corn bread crumbs on her hand for her toddler, who picked up the crumbs, stuffing them in his mouth. “When are you expecting?”

“Was thinking late January, but I must have misjudged.” Mrs. Kinsley put a hand to her belly and shifted herself back, wincing. “I don’t think this one will wait that long.”

“And how have you been feeling lately?” Del handed her the plate.

“A little better these last few days. The doctor gave me some sort of tonic, told me to eat more beef and greens. I wasn’t sure how we’d manage that, but the doctor’s wife sent some, and everyone has been so kind. It seems every day or so, someone shows up with a basket, ever since Tom . . .” Her chin wobbled, but she clenched it firm. “I still don’t know how to thank everyone for gettin’ in our harvest like you did.”

Del’s throat tightened. “That’s what neighbors do.”

“I know what everyone must think of Tom.” Margaret’s thin cheeks quivered. “But he wasn’t all bad . . . not always like there at the end. He used to be good to me and the children. It’s just . . . ever since we came to Nebraska, our troubles never stopped. And when we got hit by the grasshoppers this summer, it about broke him. Then with the liquor tent so handy . . . he never had much willpower, my Tom.”

Yet his family had loved him. Del saw that now and had heard it in Adam’s account of Bethany washing her father as he died.

She squeezed Mrs. Kinsley’s cold hand. If only she knew what to say. “Glad we can be of help.” The words broke around the tears clogging her throat.

“Thank you.” Margaret dashed her hand at the tears slipping down her cheeks, then managed a smile and lifted her fork. “I guess I better eat some of this before I drown it.”

“Del!”

At Lark’s call, Del excused herself and headed over to her sister, sniffing hard. “What is it?”

Lark motioned toward the school. “They need to ask you about something with the building.”

Jesse appeared in the open-framed doorway. “M-Mr. Easton just wanted to check—you want one room or t-two?”

“One big one is fine for now.” Del peeked inside, excitement pricking her middle again to see the classroom taking shape, even if the walls and roof had yet to be filled in. “We could divide it into two later on, right?”

“Should be able to.” Jesse nodded. “Thanks, we just wanted to be s-sure.”

“How does it feel to see it finally coming together?” Lark linked her arm through Del’s as they headed back to the church to check on Lilac and the children.

“It’s . . . rather hard to believe, I suppose.” Del paused as she opened the door. “Look, the Kinsley children are joining in. They must have eaten fast.”

She walked over to the table where Lilac had supplied the newcomers with pencils and paper. Bethany looked up with a shy smile.

“Hello, Bethany. It’s so good to see you.” And to see no remaining trace of the bruise around her eye. Oh, Lord, may the wounds inside heal as well. Del moved closer and gave the little girl’s shoulders a hug. “What are you drawing?”

“It’s a windmill. Pa told me about them once and said maybe we could have one someday.”