“I’m afraid it wasn’t, ma’am, but thanks for askin’.”
“Here, Reese, do sit down. We just happen to have an extra chair.” Still flustered by the wonderful greeting, her cheeks pinkened and her hair mussed even beneath the hat, Letty pulled him into the group.
“Just what sort of job interview did you have?” practical Hannah, already pouring another cup of tea for their guest, wanted to know.
“Ah. Appreciate somethin’ to drink. And what’s that—cookies of some kind?”
“Oatmeal.” Letitia was almost purring with contentment. “They’re Ben’s favorite. Yours, too?”
In the short time she had known him, this man had never appeared so favorable, with his rough-and-tumble locks tamed somewhat into submission by a wet comb, and his freshly ironed red cotton shirt that shouted, See me; I’m here! Squeezing her hand, he grinned at her and replied that sure enough, he had always had a hankerin’ for oatmeal cookies, even as a little shaver.
“The job?” Hannah patiently returned him to her question.
“Sorry.” Hastily Reese chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of tea. “Found an ad posted in your local newspaper here, someone lookin’ for help at the train depot down at the connection in Claremont.”
“Claremont?” repeated Molly with a slight frown. “But that’s so far away. It must be at least—”
“Thirty miles, near due south,” affirmed their guest with a wry expression. “I know you wanna stay in Turnabout, Letty, and I’ll do best to find somethin’ in the neighborhood. But a job is a job.”
“Apparently not. The employer didn’t favor your da
shing good looks?”
Somehow Hannah, she of the sour moods, could just not keep a civil tongue in her head. But the man took no offense. “As to that, I can’t say. But either the newspaper I read was a tad out of date, or more people are lookin’ for work than I figured. The position was already filled.”
Letitia’s position, upright against the unforgiving back of her chair, relaxed a bit. “Well, as far as that goes, I must say I’m relieved. I’d rather not have to move out of the area.”
Brow arched, he sent her a quiet look. “Even if I’m prowlin’ the streets to find employment? Uh-uh. I need to have that settled before any future steps get taken.”
“Oh, Reese, that’s so—so chancy!”
He touched a light, teasing finger to the tip of her nose. “What, you got so little faith in me? You don’t think I’ll be able to earn my keep?”
“Well, yes, of course I do. It’s just that—”
“Letty,” he said so softly that the two of them might have been alone, “I been takin’ care of myself, by myself, for a long time. Reckon I can take care of you, too. Don’t worry.”
Shades of Molly Burton Hennessey! Her anxious thoughts couldn’t help flying to recent events concerning her sister and similar words spoken in similar circumstances. Bravely she gulped down any further protests, pasted an understanding smile on her face, and nodded.
“Man,” murmured her husband-to-be then. Finishing one cookie, only to take another, he slumped down on his spine, stretched his long legs out into the grass, and crossed one ankle over the other. “This is a mighty pleasant spot in this back yard. Like a little piece of Paradise, bar none. An oasis in the middle of a deserty. Your sister do all this with the flowers and the garden and such?”
“Our sister, yes.” Molly sent an appreciative, amused glance across the table. “But not the one you think. It’s Hannah, here, who has put so much work in making things so nice.”
“You don’t say.”
When he turned that slow sizzling smile upon the object of his attention, Letty thought, watching, enthralled, the facial scar just faded away into nothingness. As if it never were. One saw only the genuine interest that drew conversation back and forth. She wondered if the same would hold true of the other scars he had mentioned, those hidden away from view. And then blushed.
Although he noticed—she had no doubt he would have noticed—he made no mention of the blush but merely commented again on the air of utter peace and harmony that Miss Hannah had managed to create.
“It wasn’t just my work,” she said, to be fair. The compliment, while appreciated, was deftly turned aside in the way only Hannah had. “Amazin’ has helped me a lot, not only physically with the digging and planting, but with explaining about the various vegetation and shrubs we’ve put in.”
“You should be out here in the evening,” Molly added. “The lightning bugs are flashin’ to beat the band, and the little frogs are chirpin’, and the fragrance that wafts up here would just set you back on your heels.”
“She’s been studying up on herbs, too.” Letitia reached forward to pour more tea, crumbling in a tiny sugar loaf for flavor. “Doctor Havers is quite happy about that; he’s already been here a number of times, consulting on what plant would work for what illness, and putting some of Hannah’s specialties into his own medicine bag.”
Reese, beginning to work on his third cookie, looked contemplative. “Sounds like you might have a right lucrative little business there, Miss Burton, should you decide to pursue it.”
Surprised by the turn this conversation had taken, Hannah sat back and briefly considered the possibility. In her mind’s eye, she could actually see the sign of ownership: Hannah’s Herbs. Or Herbals by Hannah. The prospect brought an infrequent smile to her lips and a rare sparkle to her dark blue eyes.