Love Inspired Historical November 2014 Page 19

  She swallowed her disappointment. “Of course.”

  He went back to work. “So you’re a chess player?”

  She drew her shawl more tightly around her. “I know the basic moves, but I haven’t played much.”

  “How are you at checkers?” He blew the wood dust from the board.

  “I’ve never played, but it’s a child’s game, isn’t it?”

  He gave her a sideways look before eyeing his board again. “It is simple enough for a child to learn, but for the serious player, there’s a whole different level of complexity and strategy to be learned, as well.”

  She settled for a noncommittal Hmm.

  He leaned back and gave her a look that she assumed was meant to be stern but somehow failed.

  “I can see you don’t believe me,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

  Her pulse quickened in response to that look of challenge he gave her. “And how do you plan to go about doing that?”

  “By teaching you to play.”

  “Whenever you have the game ready, I am at your disposal.”

  “Just give me about twenty minutes.”

  She glanced at the board and frowned. “But it’s not even painted yet. And we can’t use it while the paint is still wet.”

  “I don’t plan to use paint.”

  “Then how—”

  “Watch.” He used his knife to start carving shallow diagonal stripes into one of the squares. When he had that one done to his satisfaction, he moved over to another, leaving an untouched square between them.

  Eileen studied the affect and smiled appreciatively. The alternating grooved and smooth squares were as distinctive as the inlaid board her stepfather had had in his study. “Will you be marking the playing pieces the same way?”

  “No. I’m using something much simpler.” He nodded toward a pile of round discs on the porch beside his chair and she stooped down to study them.

  They were surprisingly uniform in size and thickness. But they were made from two different woods, one light and one dark. A simple but effective means of differentiating the opposing pieces. And there appeared to be enough of them to use with the two boards Simon planned to make. “Clever.”

  He grinned. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  She smiled back at him and realized that her current position put their faces nearly level. When she inhaled, she caught the scent of sawdust and soap and outdoors—of him. The sounds of the rain and the wind and voices from the house were drowned out by her own heartbeat. Could he hear it, too?

  *

  Simon saw Eileen’s eyes widen and heard the little hitch in her breathing. There was a tiny smudge just below the corner of her lush lips. She would no doubt be mortified if she knew it was there, but he found it endearing. He tightened his hold on his knife, forcing his fingers to ignore the overwhelming urge to reach over and stroke that sassy little smudge away for her. Even stronger was the urge to kiss it away.

  Would she slap him if he tried?

  She swayed forward slightly, and he decided it might be worth finding out….

  The door opened behind them, and Eileen blinked, then stood up as if something had propelled her.

  “Whatcha doing?” Lily asked.

  Eileen brushed at her skirt, not making eye contact. “Your uncle Simon was just showing me the game he’s making.”

  “What kind of game?”

  “Checkers.”

  “Oh, can I play?”

  Simon finally looked away from Eileen and toward the little girl. He smiled at her eager expression. “I promised Mrs. Pierce I’d teach her first. But you can play afterward.”

  Lily looked at Eileen. “Don’t you know how to play checkers already?”

  Eileen shook her head.

  “But even Joey knows how to play.” The confused look on Lily’s face was almost comical.

  “Don’t worry,” Simon said, keeping his expression appropriately solemn. “I’m a good teacher. I’m sure she’ll pick it up in no time.”

  Simon felt Eileen’s glare without even looking at her and knew she’d definitely be playing to win when the time came. He was looking forward to it.

  By the time they sat down at the dining room table with the handcrafted checkerboard between them, all of the children had heard about this being Eileen’s first game of checkers. Not only were they gathered to watch, but sides were being taken, mostly along gender lines.

  Simon won the first game handily and tried not to let his amusement show when Eileen’s lips pinched in irritation.

  She recovered quickly, though, and gave him an arch look. “I believe I have the hang of it now. Shall we try again?”

  “If you insist.” And he set up the board again.

  He won the second game, but this time he had to make more of an effort.

  “I think I really have the hang of it now.” There was definitely a glint of determination in her eyes. “Shall we try once more?”

  And to his surprise, she did indeed manage to win that third game.

  Delighted by the flush of triumph on her face, he stood and made a short bow. “Well done. Congratulations.”

  She smiled graciously. “I did, after all, have a good teacher.”

  Before he could explore this playful side of her further, several of the children began clamoring for a turn at the game, and Eileen gave up her seat with a smile and excused herself to help Dovie in the kitchen.

  As Simon moved back to the porch to begin work on a second checkerboard, he found himself whistling. Someday soon he was going to kiss that woman.

  And the sooner, the better.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As they all gathered back in the parlor after lunch, Dovie turned to Eileen. “Did I hear you say there’s going to be dancing at this festival tomorrow?”

  Eileen nodded. “There is.”

  “Who provides the music?”

  “There are two fiddlers in town, as well as a banjo player and a couple of harmonica players. They play in shifts or in pairs to keep the music going most of the afternoon and evening. It’s not the same as having an orchestra, but it keeps the dancers twirling.”

  “It sounds mighty festive.” Dovie turned to the children. “How many of you know how to dance?”

  Her question was greeted with silence. “None of you? Well we can’t have that. I’ll hazard a guess that Mrs. Pierce is a fine dancer. Perhaps we can talk her into teaching some of you.”

  Eileen felt suddenly shy. She refused to allow herself to glance Simon’s way, but she was very aware of his presence. “There’s no music.”

  “We can sing for you,” Audrey offered.

  “I can do better than that.” Dovie quickly left the room and shortly returned carrying a lap harp.

  “What a beautiful instrument.” Eileen moved closer to examine it. “How come I haven’t seen it before?”

  Dovie shrugged. “Haven’t had a reason to pull it out until now. But I reckon I can still play us a lively tune.” She settled in her chair and plucked a few notes, fiddled with the knobs, then plucked at the strings again. Finally she looked up with a grin. “Now, claim your partner, and let’s see what you can do.”

  Eileen supposed there was no getting out of it so she stood and looked around with a smile. “Who wants to go first?”

  No one stepped up.

  “Perhaps they’d like to see a demonstration first.” Dovie waved toward Simon. “You know how to dance, don’t you? Come over here and partner with Eileen and show them how it’s done.”

  Dovie began playing her harp and the strains of a lively jig soon filled the room. It wasn’t exactly what Eileen was used to, but Simon stepped up and bowed gallantly. She curtsied and away they went with him leading her through the paces of a vigorous country dance. By the time the music died, Eileen was breathless and smiling.

  Simon was a surprisingly good dancer. Not ballroom caliber perhaps, but his movements were confident and sm
ooth. And she’d had no trouble whatsoever matching her steps to his.

  “Now let’s try something different,” Dovie said. “Why don’t you demonstrate a waltz for our young students?”

  A waltz. Eileen’s gaze quickly flew to Simon’s, and she found him holding out his hand, a slight challenge in his smile. Telling herself this was just a demonstration, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to step closer and place his other hand at her back. When the soft strains of the music began she followed him effortlessly, as if they’d danced together like this many times. Her gaze never left his, and the pleasure and admiration she saw reflected there was intoxicating, as if the music flowed not just around her, but through her.

  Everything else fell away, and she gave herself up entirely to the music, to the feel of his hands, to the look in his eyes. Like a bit of dandelion fluff, she was floating on the wind that was the music.

  When the music stopped it was as if she’d been rudely awakened from the sweetest of dreams.

  She looked around, blinking as reality blanketed her again. She found Dovie watching them with a knowing grin. Merciful heavens, how much had she revealed?

  Immediately she stepped away from Simon and tried to regain her mental equilibrium.

  “Now,” Dovie said briskly, “Eileen, why don’t you work with the boys and, Simon, you can work with the girls to try to teach them a few simple steps.”

  Grateful for the change of focus, Eileen immediately took both of Joey’s hands and tugged him to the middle of the room. They practiced for the next hour or so, meeting with mixed success. Some of the children took to it quickly, some barely managed the basics and a few dived into it enthusiastically, dancing to their own tune and quite happy to do so.

  Finally Simon collapsed on the sofa, declaring himself too exhausted to continue. The rest of them took that as a cue to take a break as well, and everyone found a seat to plop down on.

  Once Dovie stopped playing and the children were still, Eileen could hear the rain. If anything, it seemed to have intensified. She rose and went to one of the windows to take a look. Sure enough it was coming down in sheets, and didn’t show any signs of letting up. This didn’t look good for tomorrow’s festival.

  She felt someone come up to stand behind her and knew even before she saw his reflection in the glass that it was Simon. Their gazes met in the windowpane, and she wondered if he was remembering that lovely waltz with the same tingly, unsettled feeling she was.

  Rose joined them, breaking the spell, and she edged her way between Eileen and the window. “What happens if it doesn’t stop raining?” she asked glumly.

  “The ground will keep getting wetter.”

  “Uncle Simon! You know what I mean. What happens with the festival?”

  “I’m afraid the festival will be canceled,” Eileen said regretfully. “There’s no place in town big enough to seat everyone for the meal, and the games and the dance would all get bogged down in the mud even if we attempt to hold them.”

  “Maybe it’ll stop before morning,” Harry said hopefully.

  “I hope so.” Molly twirled around the room holding Flossie’s hands. “I want to show everyone how I can dance.”

  Eileen glanced out at the downpour. The first Thanksgiving after her marriage to Thomas had been like this, and the festival had been canceled. She had partially salvaged the day by inviting two dozen of Thomas’s closest friends to spend the day with them. Thomas had been so proud of her hostessing abilities and the event had cemented her place as a social arbiter in the town.

  She couldn’t hope to duplicate that success, but surely there was something she could do to mitigate the disappointment the children were feeling. They’d had enough setbacks to face over the past few weeks—it was time to find something to celebrate.

  She looked around, noting the grumbling and moping that was already spreading through the room. This wouldn’t do at all.

  “Children.” She used her best authoritative tone and it captured everyone’s attention. “I am disappointed in you. There are going to be troubles you have to face in this life—everyone has them. If you want to be respected rather than pitied, you must learn to handle them with grace and dignity—not whining and complaining.”

  From the corner of her eye she saw Simon’s frown. Did he think she was being too harsh? Surely he knew these were lessons the children needed to learn.

  But she wasn’t without sympathy for them. “Besides, just because we can’t celebrate with the whole town, that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate at all.”

  That earned her a few hopeful glances.

  “What do you mean?” Harry asked.

  “Well, we still have all the food Dovie is cooking, and all of this room, and even some music—why can’t we have our own festival right here? I imagine your uncle Simon could even come up with a few friendly competitions for you to take part in.”

  “You mean inside?” Russell didn’t sound overly impressed.

  “Yes, inside,” Eileen answered calmly.

  “But it won’t be the same,” Rose said.

  “No, it won’t.” Simon sent Eileen a supportive look. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it fun.”

  “That’s right.” Dovie threw in her support for the idea. “We can have an indoor picnic.”

  “What’s so special about eating on the floor of the parlor?”

  Eileen could see their efforts were not meeting with total success, and she searched her mind for a way to get the children excited.

  There was one thing that might do it…

  She hesitated. The hideaway, as she called it, had once been her favorite room in the house, and Thomas had given it over to her for her private use. But she’d closed it off when she’d been forced to sell off all the lovely furnishings it had housed. Looking at it as it was now only served to remind her of all she’d lost.

  But there was really no good reason, other than her pride, for her to keep it closed off and hidden. And if it would cheer up this gloomy-looking crew of kids, it might be worth opening up to serve a new purpose.

  “Who said it has to be in the parlor?” she asked, arching her eyebrows.

  Simon gave her a “what are you up to” look, but didn’t say anything.

  “Where else would we have it?” Harry asked.

  “Well, there’s always the secret room.”

  That immediately captured everyone’s attention.

  “Your castle has a secret room?” Molly asked, her voice almost a whisper and her eyes wide. “How come we never seen it before?”

  “Never saw it,” Eileen corrected. Then she put her hands behind her back and rocked back on her heels. “Because then it wouldn’t be much of a secret, would it?”

  Joey, who was standing next to Dovie, turned to her. “Do you know about her secret room?”

  Dovie shook her head, but there was a decided twinkle in her eyes. “No, but I sure am curious to find out more. What about you?”

  Joey nodded vigorously.

  “Will you tell us the secret?” Harry asked.

  Eileen looked around, meeting each set of eyes solemnly, enjoying the sense of anticipation and excitement in the room. “I would have to know that I could trust you to keep my secret,” she said, making her tone doubtful.

  There were vigorous nods and choruses of “yes.”

  “Very well.” She straightened. “The entrance to the secret room is actually right here in the parlor.”

  Immediately everyone began scanning the room, looking for where that entrance might be.

  “Surely you’ve noticed the turret attached to this house when you’re outside.” She stepped away from the window. “Haven’t you wondered where the inside of that tower is? I mean, such a room would have round walls, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh.” Impossibly, Molly’s eyes widened more. “Please can we see it?”

  Some of the quicker-witted children were focusing on the far wall, the wall that was closest to the turr
et. Eileen headed across the parlor in that same direction. She smiled when she heard them following close behind.

  “Where is it?” asked Molly. “Do you have to say a special word for the door to appear?”

  Eileen laughed. “No. You just have to look very, very carefully.” She stepped up to a chair positioned in front of what to the casual observer appeared to be an ornate panel, identical to all the other ornate panels that were evenly spaced on the walls throughout the room. A closer look, however, showed that this particular panel had unobtrusive hinges on one side, and that the edges of the panel were actually seams in the wall, in fact, they were the outline of a door. She reached for one of the carved flowers and tugged. It easily pulled out to form a decorative doorknob.

  And with a flick of her wrist she twisted the knob and dramatically flung open the door.

  It was shadowy inside and the musty smell of disuse tickled her nose before she even entered.

  Eileen stepped all the way inside and the children crowded in behind her. She crossed the room and pulled open the drapes. And turned to see the children looking around the room with expressions of awe and delight. What on earth did they see in this sadly empty space to warrant such a reaction?

  She turned and studied the room herself. And for the first time, didn’t see the ghosts of the beautiful furnishings that were no longer there. Instead she saw the flowered paper on the walls, the gilt work on the ceilings, the ornate scrollwork that capped the built-in shelves, the beauty of the stone hearth, the grandeur of the tall curved windows that gave the room its rounded shape. The fact that the lower half of the view from the windows was screened by holly bushes only enhanced the air of mystery.

  “It’s like a princess’s room.”

  Eileen raised an amused brow at Molly’s words. “A princess’s very dusty room.”

  “Once we get it cleaned up, this will make a very nice place to hold our very own Thanksgiving Festival,” Dovie said.

  “And a wonderful bonus of having our Thanksgiving at home is that Nana Dovie can join us,” Simon added.

  “That’s right.” Tessa took Dovie’s hand. “The whole family can be together.”