Page 38 of Silver Lining
"The kitchen is large and sunny," Gilly commented, placing a box of tablecloths and dish towels on a long wooden table.
"Uncle Max sent to Denver for the best appliances."
That he had. Louise had never seen anything like the gleaming six-hole, nickel-plated stove and oven.
"And look at this," she said in a whispery voice. A pump handle overhung the sink. "Water in the kitchen.
Can you imagine? You don't even have to go outside."
"We'll put everything away, and you can sort it out later. Right now, I imagine you want to have a look around."
"If you don't mind."
She was careful not to touch anything as she passed from room to room examining the furnishings and wallpaper and carpets. Since she'd seen Livvy's house and knew how things ought to look, she spotted blank areas, like the mantelpiece in the parlor. As everything else seemed complete, the blank spots puzzled her until the answer popped to mind. Probably it had been Livvy who furnished the house while Max was gone, and she had left space for Philadelphia 's display items.
This was Philadelphia 's house.
The rose-colored bedroom had been furnished with Philadelphia in mind. The paisley wallpaper and flowered carpets had been selected to please Philadelphia 's taste and preference. The kitchen had waited for Philadelphia 's dishes and pans and napkins and tablecloths. It should have been Philadelphia touring the house, marveling at all she saw.
Sobered and feeling a bit low in her mind, Louise returned to the kitchen. Livvy and Gilly had donned aprons and were putting together a stew for supper. While Gilly peeled potatoes and Sunshine stood on a stool beside her, Livvy kneaded bread dough on the end of the long kitchen table.
"There's a rhubarb pie in the oven, and fresh coffee on the stove," Livvy mentioned, pushing the heels of her hands into the dough.
"I didn't realize I was gone so long."
"We planned to get supper started. You shouldn't have to cook the first night in your new home. You'll want to put away your things."
"That won't take long," Louise said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, then watched them working in her kitchen and taking time from their own homes to do it.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Beg your pardon?" Livvy looked up from the lump of dough.
"You don't want me here. All I've done is cause the McCord family a lot of trouble. So why did you put together all these things?" She waved a hand at the now empty boxes. "Why are you cooking supper and planning to sew me some dresses? Why are you trying to help me?"
"Because you married Uncle Max and you're part of our family," Sunshine said, smiling the smile of youth and innocence. "We do too want you."
Livvy studied her for a moment. "Why did you stay in Piney Creek and nurse those men?"
"I honestly don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do."
After a shrug, Livvy slapped the dough down on the table and continued kneading.
Smiling, Gilly paused with a potato in one hand and a paring knife in the other. "If the McCords had a motto, it would be 'Do the right thing.'"
That could have been her motto, too. She understood the importance of doing the right thing. However, she noticed that only Sunshine had disputed her remark that she wasn't wanted here. No matter how Livvy and Gilly tried not to blame her for the scandal and misfortune pouring down on the family, on some level they did. Helping her originated in a sense of duty and an obligation to do the right thing for Max's wife.
After Livvy. Gilly, and Sunshine departed, she put away her few belongings, then fetched her everyday shawl and stepped outside the mudroom door. She sat on the top step of the kitchen stoop in a wash of afternoon sunshine, leaving the door open so she could smell the savory scent of stew simmering on the stove, and the yeasty fragrance of bread loaves cooling on the table beside the rhubarb pie.
There was space between the stoop and the clothesline for a kitchen garden, she noted. If she was still here come spring. And she identified a spot where the ground began to slope that would be convenient for pouring out sudsy laundry water.
To the west the land dipped and rolled like waves swelling toward the distant mountains. To the east the ground appeared flatter, bushier, but with fewer trees. She couldn't see the main house from here, didn't spot another rooftop or any signs of a nearby neighbor. If it hadn't been for voices calling back and forth down by the barn and storage sheds, Louise would have felt as if the world had dropped away, leaving only this house and this patch of ground.
A week ago she would have followed the voices and introduced herself and spent the rest of the afternoon getting acquainted with the hands. But everything was different now. Instinct warned that the boss's wife didn't lollygag around the barn with the hired men.
A deep sigh caused the shawl to slip off her shoulders. Well, she was accustomed to solitude. She had her songbook stories to think about, and after today she would be too busy to worry about being alone.
Tomorrow she'd have chores—cooking and dusting and sweeping. And Livvy had mentioned that the hands had been feeding the chickens and milking the dairy cow, suggesting these were tasks Louise was expected to handle.
