good, they’ll be able to tell.”
Ripley shrugged, not quite dismissing her idea.
“I can see it now,” she said. “Rip Ripley Farm Machinery.” She hesitated. “No, that will never do. What is your given name?”
“My given name?”
“Your given name. John Ripley, Will Ripley, Chester Ripley?”
He shook his head. “Just Ripley, ma’am. My name is such an embarrassment, 1 don’t even remember it anymore.”
Lessy nodded. “All right. Then Ripley and Sons—that sounds very official, don’t you think? The kind of long term solid company a farmer can trust.”
“I have no sons.”
She waved away his concern. “Believe me, when you own your own manufacturing company, some woman will marry you up real fast.”
“They might try.”
Lessy laughed. “Oh, a confirmed bachelor. I suppose you know that women love a challenge.”
His expression was careless and his shrug teasing. “Seriously, though,” she said, “I believe that we should all try to find a way to achieve our heart’s desire. It is such a waste of our gifts if we don’t.”
Ripley’s expression became solemn. “I’m going to do it someday. I just have to wait for the right time, settle down, and get started.”
“I could ask Vassar to have a look at your drawings, if you like,” she said. “I’m sure he has money to invest.” Her sincerity and determination showed clearly on her face, and the sight brought a warm tenderness to Ripley’s smile. He brought a hand to her cheek and smoothed away a damp tendril of hair that clung there.
“You are really a fine kind of woman, Lessy. You are surely what God had in mind when he used the word helpmate."
Lessy’s eyes widened, and she shook her head in disagreement. “No, I’m not really like that,” she confessed. “I pretend to be that way, but I’m really just foolish and selfish.”
Rip’s expression turned quizzical. “What a strange thing to say.”
Lessy blushed. “It’s true,” she said quietly. Suddenly she wanted somebody to know the truth. “I’m really not as hardworking and temperate as I seem.”
“You’re not?” Ripley clearly did not believe her, but was intrigued by the possibility.
“I. .. well, I started acting that way for Vass.”
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her curiously. “Vass wants you to act hardworking and temperate?”
“Oh, no. I mean yes.” She was both confused and embarrassed at her own revelation. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s an act. He thinks I really am the person I’ve been pretending to be.”
Rip leaned closer, resting his hand on his chin. “And why have you been pretending to be some other person, Miss Lessy?”
“I’m not exactly pretending to be another person. I’m just... well, I’m trying to be the woman that Vass would want to marry.” She lowered her head shamefully. “I can’t believe I’ve told this to you. It’s really terrible, isn’t it?”
She looked up to find Rip grinning ear to ear. “Yes, Lessy, it is very terrible, a sin of major proportions to allow your intended to think the best of you. But, truth to tell, I’ve never met a woman—or a man, either—that was exactly what he seemed to be before the wedding.” “Well,” Lessy admitted, “maybe most folks are on their best behavior before the wedding, but I’m just an out- and-out liar. Vass doesn’t know that I have a temper or that I daydream during Sunday School or that I only like gardening because it gives me an excuse to dig around in the dirt like a gopher.”
Rip smiled at her. “I doubt the man will care. When a fellow’s in love, he can forgive a lot in a woman.”
“What if he’s not in love?” Lessy’s words were only a whisper.
Rip took her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to his. “None of that nonsense,” he said. “Vassar Muldrow is so much in love, he looks like a mule hit between the eyes with a poleax.”
She was doubtful, but she didn’t want to confess the rest. “But
Ripley shrugged, not quite dismissing her idea.
“I can see it now,” she said. “Rip Ripley Farm Machinery.” She hesitated. “No, that will never do. What is your given name?”
“My given name?”
“Your given name. John Ripley, Will Ripley, Chester Ripley?”
He shook his head. “Just Ripley, ma’am. My name is such an embarrassment, 1 don’t even remember it anymore.”
Lessy nodded. “All right. Then Ripley and Sons—that sounds very official, don’t you think? The kind of long term solid company a farmer can trust.”
“I have no sons.”
She waved away his concern. “Believe me, when you own your own manufacturing company, some woman will marry you up real fast.”
“They might try.”
Lessy laughed. “Oh, a confirmed bachelor. I suppose you know that women love a challenge.”
His expression was careless and his shrug teasing. “Seriously, though,” she said, “I believe that we should all try to find a way to achieve our heart’s desire. It is such a waste of our gifts if we don’t.”
Ripley’s expression became solemn. “I’m going to do it someday. I just have to wait for the right time, settle down, and get started.”
“I could ask Vassar to have a look at your drawings, if you like,” she said. “I’m sure he has money to invest.” Her sincerity and determination showed clearly on her face, and the sight brought a warm tenderness to Ripley’s smile. He brought a hand to her cheek and smoothed away a damp tendril of hair that clung there.
“You are really a fine kind of woman, Lessy. You are surely what God had in mind when he used the word helpmate."
Lessy’s eyes widened, and she shook her head in disagreement. “No, I’m not really like that,” she confessed. “I pretend to be that way, but I’m really just foolish and selfish.”
Rip’s expression turned quizzical. “What a strange thing to say.”
Lessy blushed. “It’s true,” she said quietly. Suddenly she wanted somebody to know the truth. “I’m really not as hardworking and temperate as I seem.”
“You’re not?” Ripley clearly did not believe her, but was intrigued by the possibility.
“I. .. well, I started acting that way for Vass.”
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her curiously. “Vass wants you to act hardworking and temperate?”
“Oh, no. I mean yes.” She was both confused and embarrassed at her own revelation. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s an act. He thinks I really am the person I’ve been pretending to be.”
Rip leaned closer, resting his hand on his chin. “And why have you been pretending to be some other person, Miss Lessy?”
“I’m not exactly pretending to be another person. I’m just... well, I’m trying to be the woman that Vass would want to marry.” She lowered her head shamefully. “I can’t believe I’ve told this to you. It’s really terrible, isn’t it?”
She looked up to find Rip grinning ear to ear. “Yes, Lessy, it is very terrible, a sin of major proportions to allow your intended to think the best of you. But, truth to tell, I’ve never met a woman—or a man, either—that was exactly what he seemed to be before the wedding.” “Well,” Lessy admitted, “maybe most folks are on their best behavior before the wedding, but I’m just an out- and-out liar. Vass doesn’t know that I have a temper or that I daydream during Sunday School or that I only like gardening because it gives me an excuse to dig around in the dirt like a gopher.”
Rip smiled at her. “I doubt the man will care. When a fellow’s in love, he can forgive a lot in a woman.”
“What if he’s not in love?” Lessy’s words were only a whisper.
Rip took her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to his. “None of that nonsense,” he said. “Vassar Muldrow is so much in love, he looks like a mule hit between the eyes with a poleax.”
She was doubtful, but she didn’t want to confess the rest. “But
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