A Season of the Heart

“Well, he has been on a very long journey.”

Willa laughed, real, genuine laughter, not the polite titter of the elite women in Buffalo. The sound of it brought her own laughter bubbling up. It felt wonderful. How long had it been since she’d really laughed? She shoved the thought aside, carried the folded robe to the table and eyed the costumes waiting to be sewn. She so wanted to make the angel’s costume, but she was simply not that capable with needle and thread. She picked up the pieces for Joseph’s robe and turned back toward her chair. Willa was looking out of the window—again. “Are you expecting a caller?”

Willa started, sat back in her chair and resumed sewing. “What put that notion in your head?”

“That’s the third time I’ve seen you looking out of the window.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean— Bother! I’ve poked another hole.” Willa cut her thread, stuck her needle in the shared pincushion and jumped to her feet. “I’d best find different fabric and cut another Wise Man’s costume. This cloth will fall apart if Tommy moves.”

She watched Willa hurry to what remained of the old clothes and start sorting through the pile, pursed her lips and crossed to the window to see for herself what was so interesting. If there was one thing she easily recognized, it was evasion—the elite were masters at it. There was no horse and buggy, not even the tracks of one, only undisturbed snow. And more falling. Would it never stop? She sighed and lifted her gaze toward the sky. Ah. “So that is what you were watching for—a glimpse of your husband as he walked over to the church.”

“What are you talking about, Ellen? Matthew went to Olville directly after dinner, and—” Willa jerked upright, a faded red garment in her hands. “Is someone out there?”

“No, but a fire has been started at the church. Smoke is beginning to rise from one of the chimneys—the rear one.”

“Are you certain? It’s hard to tell with the snow.” Willa tossed the dress back onto the pile, hurried to her side and peered out the window. “Yes, you’re right—there is smoke. He’s here.”

She stared, taken aback by the flash of satisfaction in Willa’s blue-green eyes. “So you were expecting someone?”

“Not exactly. Daniel only said perhaps he—”

“Daniel?”

“Why, yes.” Willa looked down, brushed at the front of her skirt. “Didn’t I tell you he is going to help us with the decorations?”

“Daniel is going to—” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “No, Willa Jean, you did not. And if—”

“Well, I meant to. It must have slipped my mind while I was caring for Mary.” Willa sighed, slanted a glance up at her and sighed again. “Babies take so much time, Ellen. I simply don’t know how I would manage all I have to do without your help.”

Her protest died. It was plain she would have to endure Daniel’s presence for Willa’s sake. She had given her word. And he would be going back to the lumber camp soon. Please, Lord! Meanwhile, she would avoid him as much as possible. The parsonage wasn’t a large house, but it was big enough to—

“Come along, Ellen.” Willa lifted her hems and hurried toward the doorway.

“Come along where?”

“To get our cloaks and go to the church. We will make the decorations in the back room, and I want to get started while Mary is napping and Bertha can watch over her.”

Her stomach sank. She took a breath and offered the only excuse she could think of that might delay the inevitable. “What of the sewing? I’ll stay here and—”

Willa didn’t even pause, merely glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ll work on the costumes in the evenings after the children are abed. It’s the decorations I’m most concerned about—or was, until your kind offer of help. And Daniel’s, too, of course.”

Willa’s smile stole her resistance. “Very well.” She laid the costume pieces she held on the table and frowned down at her old green wool dress. If she had known about having to work with Daniel, she would have worn one of her lovely gowns. Not that he would notice. But, even so, they gave her confidence. And she needed that around him. Daniel was the only man she knew who could undermine her self-assurance with merely a look. She blew out a breath, fluffed her curls and followed Willa into the hall. At least her old dress would be hidden from Daniel’s view by her lovely new cloak.

Chapter Six

Daniel dumped his armful of branches on top of the growing pile in the corner. That would be the last load until they were used up. Any more and he and Willa would be crowded right out of the small room.

He brushed his jacket free of bits of bark and pine needles while he took inventory. His small hand ax lay on the upended piece of log he would use for lopping the offshoots from the branches, the coil of twine Willa had requested was on the table, the woodbox was full and the stove was going. It was time to let Willa know he was here and they could start working. He slapped his gloves together over the pile to rid them of snow and tugged them back on. The latch clicked. He jerked his head around as the door swung open, hit the heel of his boot and stopped.

“Daniel, the door is stuck!” The door was drawn back, shoved forward again with more force.

“Whoa! Hold on, Pest.” He turned and pulled the door open. “That’s my foot you’re—” The words froze on his tongue. He stared at the blue wool visible between Willa and the doorframe, scowled and shifted his gaze to Willa’s face. She gave him a sweet smile. Asked and answered. His scowl deepened. Willa stepped into the room and his vision filled with blue wool and rabbit fur.

Ellen looked up and stopped dead in her tracks. Her blue eyes widened.

“Don’t look so surprised, Musquash. Your rich beaux aren’t the only ones who enjoy a shave and a haircut. Even we lowly loggers like to get one now and then—when we come to town and all.”

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