Miss Beasley accepted a cup of coffee, laced it heavily with cream and sugar, sampled the cake and pursed her hairy lips. "Mmmm… quite delectable," she proclaimed. "Quite as delectable as the honey you sent, Eleanor. I must say I’m not accustomed to receiving gifts from my library patrons. Thank you."
Donald Wade piped up. "Wanna see the ones we give Mama today?"
Miss Beasley deferentially set down her fork and focused full attention on the child. "By all means."
Donald Wade scrambled around the table, found the suet ball and brought it to the librarian couched in his hand. "This here’s for her birds. Me’n Will and Baby Thomas made it all ourselfs."
"You made it… mmm." She examined it minutely. "Now aren’t you clever. And a homemade gift is certainly one from the heart-the best kind, just like the honey your mother and Mr. Parker gave me. You’re a lucky child." She patted him on the head in the way of an adult unused to palavering socially with children. "They’re teaching you the things that matter most."
"And this here…" Donald Wade, excited at having someone new on whom to shower his enthusiasm, reached next for the doilies. "These’re from Will. He bought ’em with the honey money and Mama she can embroidry on ’em."
Again Miss Beasley gave the items due attention. "Ah, your mother is lucky, too, isn’t she?"
It suddenly struck Donald Wade that the broad-beamed woman was a stranger, yet she seemed to know his mother. He looked up at Miss Beasley with wide, unblinking eyes. "How do you know ’er?"
"She used to come into my library when she was a girl not much bigger than you. Occasionally I was her teacher, you might say."
Donald Wade blinked. "Oh." Then he inquired, "What’s a lie-bree?"
"A library? Why, one of the most wonderful places in the world. Filled with books of all kinds. Picture books, storybooks, books for everyone. You must come and visit it sometime, too. Ask Mr. Parker to bring you. I’ll show you a book about a boy who looks quite a bit like you, actually, named Timothy Totter’s Tatters.Mmmm…" Leaning back, she tapped an index finger on her lips and examined Donald Wade as if a decision hung in the balance. "Yes, I should say Timothy Totter is just the book for a boy… what? Five years old?"
Donald Wade made his hair bounce, nodding.
"Do you have a dog, Donald Wade?"
Mystified, he wagged his head slowly.
"You don’t? Well, Timothy Totter does. And his name is Tatters. When you come, I’ll introduce you to both Timothy and Tatters. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak to Mr. Parker a moment."
Miss Beasley could not have chosen a gentler method of bringing Eleanor around to the idea of bumping up against the outside world again. If there was an ideal way to reach Eleanor it was through her children. By the time Miss Beasley’s interchange with Donald Wade ended, Eleanor was sitting, looking less as if she was preparing to bolt. Miss Beasley told her, "That’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t mind having the recipe," then turned to Will without pause. "I’ve come bearing some sad news. Levander Sprague, who has cleaned my library for the past twenty-six years, dropped dead of a heart attack night before last."
"Oh… I’m sorry." He’d never heard of Levander Sprague. Why in the world had she brought the news clear out here?
"Mr. Sprague shall be sorely missed. However, he lived a long and fruitful life, and he leaves behind nine strapping boys to see their mother through her last years. I, however, am left without a custodian. The job pays twenty-five dollars a week. Would you like it, Mr. Parker?"
Will’s face flattened with surprise. His glance shot to Elly, then back to the librarian, as she hastened on. "Six nights a week, after the library closes. Caring for the floors, dusting the furniture, burning the trash, stoking the furnace in the winters, occasionally carrying boxes of books to the basement, building additional shelves when we need them."
"Well…" Will’s amazement modified into a crooked smile as he chuckled and ran a hand down the back of his head. "That’s quite an offer, Miss Beasley."
"I thought about offering it to one of Mr. Sprague’s sons, but quite frankly, I’d rather have you. You have a certain respect for the library that I like. And I heard that you were summarily dismissed from the sawmill, which irritated my sense of fair play."
Will was too surprised to be offended. His mind raced. What would Elly say? And should he be gone evenings when she was so close to due? But twenty-five dollars a week-every week-and his days still free!
"When would you want me to start?"
"Immediately. Tomorrow. Today if possible."
"Today… well, I… I’d have to think it over," he replied, realizing Elly ought to have a say.
"Very well. I’ll wait outside."
Wait outside? But he needed time to feel Elly out. He should have guessed that Miss Beasley would tolerate no shilly-shallying. He was already scratching his jaw in consternation as the door closed. At the same moment Eleanor arose stiffly from her chair and began clearing away the cake plates.
"Elly?" he asked.
She wouldn’t look at him. "You take it, Will. I can see you want to."
"But you don’t want me to, right?"
"Don’t be silly."
"I could buy fixtures for a bathroom and I’d still have days free to put it in for you."
"I said, take it."
"But you don’t like me hangin’ around town, do you?"
She set the dishes in the dishpan and did an about-face. "My feelings for town are mine. I got no right to keep you from it, if that’s what you want."
"But Miss Beasley’s fair. She never put you down for anything, did she?"
"Take it."
"And what about when the baby starts coming?"
"A woman has plenty of warning."
"You’re sure?"
She nodded, though he could see that it cost her dearly to let him go.
He crossed the room in four strides, grasped her jaws and planted a quick, hard kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, honey." Then he slammed out the door.
Honey? When he was gone she placed her palms where his had been. She was probably the most unhoney female within fifty miles, but the word had warmed her cheeks and tightened her chest. Before the thrill subsided, Will came slamming back inside.
"Elly? I’m giving Miss Beasley a ride back to town and she’ll show me around the library, then I’ll probably sweep up for her before I come back. Don’t wait supper for me."
"All right."
He was half out the door before he changed his mind and returned to her side. "Will you be all right?"
"Fine."
Looking up into his eager face, she bit back all her misgivings. He’d never know from her how badly she wanted him here from now until the baby came. Or how she feared having him working in town where everyone called her crazy, where prettier and brighter women were bound to make him take a second look at what he’d married and regret it.
But how could she hold him back when he could scarcely stand still for excitement?
"I’ll be fine," she repeated.
He squeezed her arm and was gone.
Chapter 12
Will took the car, in deference to Miss Beasley. On the way into town they spoke of the boys, the birthday, and finally of Elly.
"She’s a stubborn woman, Miss Beasley. You might as well know, the reason I asked for that book on human birthing was because she refuses to have a doctor. She wants me to deliver the baby."
"And will you?"
"Reckon I’ll have to. If I don’t she’ll do it alone. That’s how stubborn she is."