Of Needles and Haystacks Ann Fryer (ebook reader with built in dictionary .TXT) 📖

white linen. Lay the silver with a ruler. Added a small vase of early wild roses in the center. His mother would have called it droll compared to the cascading arrangements she usually ordered. He straightened his shoulders, standing taller. He couldn’t think about her at a time like this. Refused to.

As the hour drew near and the fine scent of roasting and baking filled every corner of the house, James found himself in front of the mirror of his bedroom, looking this way and that—trying not to recall how Dorothy had called him “still handsome”. What that meant to him. At the end of the day, he might well feel the depth of his ugly scars.

A blackness edged his vision and nausea slipped in. He dipped the edge of his towel and patted his face with cool pressure, focusing on the action. He dipped again pressed it to his neck and let out a long breath. There. He popped a peppermint in his mouth, and ran to the porch.

Nearly swallowed the mint whole when the wagon arrived. The little ones jumped on him as soon as they scampered over the edge. He playfully pulled them off and held out a hand to Dorothy.

Something was different about her. He didn’t catch it until he’d seated her in the dining room. She wore a light blue plaid rather than her usual never ending black. Her hair was arranged differently, too. He shifted in his seat, her beauty creeping on him like vines ready to cling and destroy his sanity. Couldn’t allow that to happen.

The family enjoyed his hospitality with zeal. Hammond and his wife gave every exclamation about the home he’d labored over for the past six months. While the children were sent outside, and Helen and Kirsten bid to help Ruth clean up, Dorothy followed them on the grand tour.

Her quiet approval, kind compliments seemed reserved unless he looked her in the face and saw a full smile. Especially when she’d seen his library. The whole thing set him off kilter. It didn’t matter what she thought. But it did, God help him.

Soon, he needed to find a way to speak to her alone. Come what may.

The older ones were to stay for some hiking around his property. Hammond and Aunt had loaded the younger set, unhappy with the early departure, and made a dusty path homeward.

James donned his hat and put on his knee boots. Ernest, Helen, and Kirsten lingered on the porch steps, tapping favorite walking sticks brought for the occasion. Dorothy stood still, hand folded, gazing down at the tips of her boots. Lost in thought? Did she wish herself away?

James smiled. He could rise above this. “Ready everyone? Ernest, lead the way.”

They walked down a vast field for some time, Ernest easily out-walking anyone else. His sisters ran to keep up. A few moments later, friends from town joined them. James laughed at the coincidence. Or Providence. Perfect timing, in his mind.

“I hope you don’t mind if they come with us, David?” Kirsten pled.

“ ‘Course not.” James glanced at Dorothy who gazed at the sky and the surrounding land. “You see, Mr. MacDonald exaggerates about my land.”

“That’s why my cousins are so eager to hike today?”

“Well, there are some pretty parts.”

They walked in silence for a while. James gathered courage with each step, until, with surprise, he lost his worries altogether. This wasn’t usually an issue. Felt easier somehow to reveal another man’s secrets than his own.

They reached a slope that dipped into a long, trailing creek with tufts of waterfalls. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere...leaves unfurled in shadowy greenness. Dorothy’s cousins and their friends’ echoes skipped across the large tumbled stones in the hollow of the wooded hill.

James offered his hand. “Shall we go down?” She placed her small hand in his. His heart tugged. Now was the time.

She moved to join her family. But the time had come. “Wait.”

She pulled her hand away and protectively wrapped her middle with her arms like he’d seen before. Did she already know what he’d done?

“I have to tell you something.”

She stood with her lips parted. She looked to the left and then back into his face. Color rose. A warm breeze blew, a bee buzzed.

“Dorothy...” his voice sounded rough. He cleared his throat, glanced beyond her where the sun gave witness.

He lost himself in the moment. Watched her stand there holding herself. Watched her fix her gaze at the patch of violets growing around her feet. Everywhere but him.

She blinked. “You told me there were no more secrets.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Oh.” Her brow lifted in tired concern.

His collar grew hot. He jerked it open. “Dorothy, I don’t know if you can trust me.” That is not how he’d planned to say it...This wasn’t working.

“I don’t understand.”

“Come back to the house. I must show you what I have.”

They walked quickly. James didn’t trust himself to slow down. They climbed the small flight of steps and entered the library. She’d grown silent. Her healing heart braced itself for another wound. So easy to see.

He pulled out the metal box.

Confusion washed over her. “Is this?”

“Yes.”

“Wh—

“Hammond wanted me to peruse your father’s papers to see if there were any outstanding bills. He didn’t want you to know. I shouldn’t have, but I did.” James opened his hands, releasing the tension. “I thought there might be something there that would point back to me and ruin my friendship with him. I couldn’t let that happen...” The words—out in a rush.

“You did him a good turn, didn’t you?”

Did she already know? “You’re not angry?”

She touched the lid with her hand. “What did you take from the box?”

Ah. There it was. “I’m sorry, Dorothy. I honestly don’t know why I obeyed Hammond’s command. I promised to always tell you the truth.”

“What did you take from the box?” Somehow she knew.

“A few letters I’d written to your father.”

“Did you put them back?”

“I burned them.”

“Oh. Any bills I need to be aware of?” She felt trust,