Rockies, I wonder how heaven can top it…but it does.”
“Whatever heaven’s like, my dad’s enjoying it. I can picture him sailing on a perfect lake in perfect weather.”
“My mom would be gardening.”
He lifted his head. “Your mom’s dead?”
“She died a few years ago. Mom loved flowers. All kinds. I feel sad…sort of nostalgic when I visit Dad and see those bedraggled flower beds. A few pitiful perennials that need separating and weeding.”
“You don’t have a green thumb?” Ian asked.
“I’ve never tried. I suppose I should go over sometime and work on those beds. It’s finding the time, and now, if this project takes off, by the time it’s over winter will be here.”
“Maybe next year, then. Do it as a tribute to your mother.”
“Like you,” she said, looking more relaxed than he’d ever seen, “with your sailboat. Making your dad’s dream for you come true. That’s nice, Ian.”
He’d never thought of it quite like that. It was nice. In the quiet, he turned back to the window, enjoying her company and admiring the deepening hues across the horizon. The colorful display reminded him of July Fourth fireworks. “Will I see you next Thursday?”
A frown settled on her face. “Thursday?”
“The celebration. Somerville’s party.”
“Oh…I’m not sure. If my sister has her way, I’ll be there.” An uneasy look replaced the frown.
Her sister? Then he remembered she’d be there with Jeff. “She’s anxious for you to see the fireworks?”
“Not really,” she said, her answer cryptic and weighty.
“Then…why?” He knew he shouldn’t ask, butEsther intrigued him. Her discomfort always cloaked her in silence, and he longed to know what troubled her so often.
A sigh rippled across Esther’s shoulders. She lowered her eyes as if in thought, then focused on him. “It’s a long story. One that would bore you, I’m sure.”
“Like the ice cubes?”
His comment took a minute to settle in. When it did, she laughed. “No, that’s not boring…just odd. My story is not only boring, but one that makes me uncomfortable.”
He leaned forward and brushed her hand with a finger. “But now you’ve caught my interest.”
Her intense gaze was direct. “Really? You want me to bare my soul?”
“Maybe it will help. Two heads are better than one, they say.”
She laughed. “I’ve heard that, but I’m not sure it’s true.”
She fell silent again for a moment, then inched her head upward and captured him with her look. “My sister is playing matchmaker. I don’t like it.”
“Matchmaker? With who?”
“Me.”
“With you.” A jolt of concern zigzagged down his back. “You and who?”
“Anybody. She’s determined to find her single sister a husband.”
“But why? I don’t understand.” Anxiety shot through him. Why did Rachel want to marry off Esther?
“Long ago I felt called to remain single. Don’t ask why. It’s complex. A mixture of inner feelings, passing time and destiny. I’m happy with my work and my life. Why take chances on being miserable?”
Her words smacked him. Ian agreed that she liked her work. But she seemed so solitary. So alone. He’d had other dreams and hopes. She’d make a wonderful wife, he felt sure. He expanded his chest. “So if you want to be single, why is Rachel so determined otherwise?”
“Because of my father. My stubborn father.”
Honor your father and mother. The words hit him between the eyes. He remembered her saying them not long ago. “I’m still in the dark.”
“My father has always insisted I experience things first because I’m the oldest. I had to force myself to do so many things because Rachel wanted to do them. If I refused, my sister had to do without.”
Ian felt his mouth drop open like a front loader, and he tightened his jaw to keep it hinged together. He couldn’t believe her father insisted she marry before Rachel could. “You’re not telling me that—”
“Yes, I am,”
“Whatever heaven’s like, my dad’s enjoying it. I can picture him sailing on a perfect lake in perfect weather.”
“My mom would be gardening.”
He lifted his head. “Your mom’s dead?”
“She died a few years ago. Mom loved flowers. All kinds. I feel sad…sort of nostalgic when I visit Dad and see those bedraggled flower beds. A few pitiful perennials that need separating and weeding.”
“You don’t have a green thumb?” Ian asked.
“I’ve never tried. I suppose I should go over sometime and work on those beds. It’s finding the time, and now, if this project takes off, by the time it’s over winter will be here.”
“Maybe next year, then. Do it as a tribute to your mother.”
“Like you,” she said, looking more relaxed than he’d ever seen, “with your sailboat. Making your dad’s dream for you come true. That’s nice, Ian.”
He’d never thought of it quite like that. It was nice. In the quiet, he turned back to the window, enjoying her company and admiring the deepening hues across the horizon. The colorful display reminded him of July Fourth fireworks. “Will I see you next Thursday?”
A frown settled on her face. “Thursday?”
“The celebration. Somerville’s party.”
“Oh…I’m not sure. If my sister has her way, I’ll be there.” An uneasy look replaced the frown.
Her sister? Then he remembered she’d be there with Jeff. “She’s anxious for you to see the fireworks?”
“Not really,” she said, her answer cryptic and weighty.
“Then…why?” He knew he shouldn’t ask, butEsther intrigued him. Her discomfort always cloaked her in silence, and he longed to know what troubled her so often.
A sigh rippled across Esther’s shoulders. She lowered her eyes as if in thought, then focused on him. “It’s a long story. One that would bore you, I’m sure.”
“Like the ice cubes?”
His comment took a minute to settle in. When it did, she laughed. “No, that’s not boring…just odd. My story is not only boring, but one that makes me uncomfortable.”
He leaned forward and brushed her hand with a finger. “But now you’ve caught my interest.”
Her intense gaze was direct. “Really? You want me to bare my soul?”
“Maybe it will help. Two heads are better than one, they say.”
She laughed. “I’ve heard that, but I’m not sure it’s true.”
She fell silent again for a moment, then inched her head upward and captured him with her look. “My sister is playing matchmaker. I don’t like it.”
“Matchmaker? With who?”
“Me.”
“With you.” A jolt of concern zigzagged down his back. “You and who?”
“Anybody. She’s determined to find her single sister a husband.”
“But why? I don’t understand.” Anxiety shot through him. Why did Rachel want to marry off Esther?
“Long ago I felt called to remain single. Don’t ask why. It’s complex. A mixture of inner feelings, passing time and destiny. I’m happy with my work and my life. Why take chances on being miserable?”
Her words smacked him. Ian agreed that she liked her work. But she seemed so solitary. So alone. He’d had other dreams and hopes. She’d make a wonderful wife, he felt sure. He expanded his chest. “So if you want to be single, why is Rachel so determined otherwise?”
“Because of my father. My stubborn father.”
Honor your father and mother. The words hit him between the eyes. He remembered her saying them not long ago. “I’m still in the dark.”
“My father has always insisted I experience things first because I’m the oldest. I had to force myself to do so many things because Rachel wanted to do them. If I refused, my sister had to do without.”
Ian felt his mouth drop open like a front loader, and he tightened his jaw to keep it hinged together. He couldn’t believe her father insisted she marry before Rachel could. “You’re not telling me that—”
“Yes, I am,”
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