Part 9 (1/2)
The smile broke across Ian's face. ”And with your leave, I'll call you the same. 'Tis a fitting name indeed for you.”
Delight rippled through her. ”Please feel free to.”
”Good. Merry you are, so 'tis Merry you'll be.”
”Merry?”
She ceased planting lettuce seeds, sat back on her heels, and faced Ian. ”Yes?”
”You've mentioned your mother a few times. Tucker said she's pa.s.sed on. What about your father?”
She looked away and rasped, ”He's no longer with us.”
”Ahh.” He stretched out the sound in such a way that it carried the flavor of sorrow, as well as understanding. ”I apologize. I didn't mean to add to your grief.”
She bowed her head and covered the infinitesimal seeds with a fine layer of soil. The first batch of lettuce was starting to mature. By staggering the planting, they'd stretch the time they'd be able to enjoy the produce. Merry tried to concentrate on her task, but she worried that the way her hand shook would tell Ian how much he'd rattled her composure.
Why did I ever promise Tucker I wouldn't tell anyone? Keeping the secret is so hard. I feel like I'm lying or dancing around the truth. Ian is such a good man, yet we're repaying his generosity and kindness with deceit. Meredith swallowed to dislodge the thick ball in her throat, but it didn't help.
Silence hung between them. The song of birds didn't begin to cover the awkwardness.
”I won't mention him again, Merry. I can see how much I've upset you, and I'm truly sorry.”
Tears blurred her vision as guilt mounted. Unable to speak, Meredith merely nodded.
Ian continued to work. The steady sound of his hoe made it easy for Meredith to know precisely where he was. He'd moved down that row and now came back toward her. Normally, they'd carry on a comfortable conversation while working in the garden. The strain of the silence pulled at her conscience. Bound by her promise to Tucker, she couldn't say anything- but the topic weighed so heavily on her heart, nothing else came to mind.
The sharp sound of a slap made her look up. Ian frowned while looking at his forearm. ”I've seen hummingbirds smaller than the mosquitoes around here!”
”Tucker says that Alaskan mosquitoes must not have heard the rule that everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas.”
”I'm sure the onions in Texas are larger. The few that did grow certainly weren't worth the effort.”
”I'm not so sure about the parsnips, either. Mr. Clemment will be so disappointed if we don't succeed with them.”
He leaned on his hoe. ”Do you think the parsnips are actually normal in size? I'm thinking that the carrots, potatoes, and parsnips will be ordinary, but the long, long daylight hours are making things above the ground grow huge. Anything by comparison would look meager.”
”I hadn't thought about that.” She scanned the garden. Calling it a garden seemed ludicrous. Early on, they'd had to thin the vegetables. Instead of tossing aside anything, Ian decided it would be good stewards.h.i.+p to plow a few more rows and transplant anything they thinned. But he'd had to do a few more rows...and a few more again.
Miners who'd paid Meredith to do their laundry and mending last year came by again. One look at the garden, and they'd eagerly bartered for vegetables. The funds from those first transactions paid for canning jars and more b.u.t.tons.
Meredith and Tucker had come to an agreement: any of the money or goods she earned with laundry, sewing, and the garden would go toward their own needs. Tucker didn't want any of that to go toward repaying everyone back in Texas. He alone would do that with whatever gold they mined.
”Aha!”
Ian's sound made Meredith jump. She gave him a startled look.
”You think my question holds a grain of truth. Much as I love potatoes-and what selfrespecting Irishman wouldn't?-'tis a crying shame that they don't grow so big here. But I'm thinking we'll have enough to get us through the winter. Don't you?”
She looked at that area of the patch. ”I'm not so sure...not if I roast those two hares you snared today. Potatoes and carrots and roast...”
Ian looked up at the sky then heaved a sigh. ”How am I to know when 'tis suppertime? The notion of living with the midnight sun sounded novel when first I came. But now I can't sleep worth a hoot and don't know when 'tis mealtime.”
”Time doesn't have much meaning up here. If you're having trouble sleeping, you can hang something dark in front of the windows and by the door. That helps.”
”I drove nails into the log directly above my window last night. Knotted the corners of a brown blanket 'round the nails.”
”Good.”
”Not so good. Just as I was finally falling asleep, one end slid off and pulled the other down with it. I gave up and put the blanket over my head-but then I could scarcely breathe and started roasting.”
”Oh dear.”
His mouth formed a self-deprecating smile. ”I'd call myself a pathetic wretch, but I'd be lying. Just one look around, and I can see how blessed I am. I've a claim, a garden, and G.o.dly neighbors. What more could a man ask for?”
For his G.o.dly neighbors to be forthright instead of putting up pretenses. The answer shot through her mind. Unable to face him any longer, Meredith rose to her feet and dusted off her hands as she walked to the water bucket. Sipping water from the dipper, she fought to regain her composure.
”Hey!” A pair of men appeared on the edge of the woods. ”Didn't think it was possible a woman was round these parts, but Matthews said we'd find one here-and there you are!”
Ian appeared at her side in an instant. ”Did you men need something?”
”Heard tell the gal takes in laundry and mending.”
”She might.” Ian's voice sounded controlled and quiet, but at the same time, those two clipped words made it clear he wouldn't put up with any nonsense.
The men drew closer. ”Now that winter's over, we've got clothes that need was.h.i.+ng.” One raked his fingers through his greasy hair and beard. ”A haircut would suit me fine. A shave, too.”
Meredith shook her head.
”The lady's not a barber.” Ian stayed close and murmured, ”If you don't want to do their laundry, put your hand in the pocket of your ap.r.o.n. If you'll do it, slip your hand into mine.”
Every bit of money she could earn mattered. Meredith slid her hand into Ian's rough, warm palm. His fingers closed about hers. He squeezed gently, and Meredith struggled to stay composed.
I'm living a lie, and he's protecting me.
”Well, that answers that,” one told the other.
”What?” Ian half growled.
”Heard the gal was here with her brother. That feller over yonder looks like her. He's gotta be her kin. Kinda hoped she'd take a s.h.i.+ne to one of us and marry up. Guess you beat us to her.”
”Crying shame, too. She's pretty.”
Ian didn't look at her. He simply stepped forward and tucked her behind himself.
”We ain't meanin' to insult you or scare your missus,” the other said to Ian. ”Havin' a wife to do the laundry and cookin'-well, you're set real fine. Us? We just need some stuff done.”