Where Wildflowers Bloom: A Novel by Ann Shorey Page B

eyes. “Do I know you, miss?”
    “It’s been quite awhile. I’m Faith Lindberg. We met at a going-away rally when you left to enlist.” She gave him a wide smile. “You took my hair ribbon as a memento.”
    Tolly snorted. “That where you got all them ribbons, Baxter? From little girls?”
    The third man laughed. “He’s got a heap of ’em, for sure.”
    Royal turned to Faith and shook his head. “I’m afraid you have the advantage over me. I don’t doubt you were present when I left, but there was a great crowd at the station. Forgive me.”
    She wished she could disappear beneath the floorboards. He’d assured her he’d carry her ribbon next to his heart to keep him safe. He must have made the same promise to every girl he met.
    Faith dug her nails into her palms and took a deep breath. “My apologies,” she said in her chilliest voice. “How could you be expected to remember something that happened so long ago?”
    She turned to Tolly. “Now, what size do you wear?”
    “Never mind. The ones I already got will do me just fine.”

     
    Faith followed Rosemary into the kitchen. She glanced around the tidy room, with the sink under a window that looked out at her friend’s flourishing garden. The cookstove anchored the opposite wall. Drying herbs hung from hooks fastened to a rafter above the stove. “Your kitchen reminds me of ours when my mother was alive. It feels like a refuge.” She placed the soiled plates on the counter next to the washbasin. “I’ll wash the dishes, since you cooked. It’s only fair.”
    “I cooked it, but you scarcely ate a bite.” A worried expression crossed Rosemary’s face. “I should have asked what you liked. I could have prepared something else.”
    “Oh, my word! Please don’t think it was your cooking. The chicken was delectable. I’d never have thought to tuck thyme sprigs and cracked pepper under the skin.” She sighed. “I’m just preoccupied, I guess.”
    “Problems at the store?”
    “In a manner of speaking.” Faith filled the basin and swished the soap holder through hot water until a layer of suds appeared. Utensils rattled when she dropped them into the mixture and settled the plates on top. She bent to her task, scrubbing each plate and stacking them on the drain board.
    “If you’re not careful, you’ll rub the pattern right off my dishes.” Rosemary laid her towel aside and touched Faith’s arm. “Sometimes it helps to talk things over with someone.” She drew a chair away from the worktable and turned another toward Faith. “Let’s sit a moment. Your grandfather is busy trying to win a game of chess. He won’t mind if you spend a little extra time with me.”
    Faith smiled. “It’s good to see him so occupied. He’s been melancholy since my father and brother were killed.”
    “He’s helping Curt too. The war changed him. I try to understand, but I miss his lively nature. Reverend French—” She shook her head. “Enough about us. Please, tell me what’s worrying you.”
    “I’m not worried as much as humiliated.” Faith shared her feelings for Royal Baxter and the afternoon’s experience. “He had no idea who I was, and here I believed the memory of our meeting would bring him back to me after the war. I feel like such a fool.”
    “How old were you when he left?”
    “Sixteen.”
    Rosemary took Faith’s hand. “And how old was he, do you think?”
    “Twenty-three, twenty-four. Somewhere in there.”
    “I saw many troops leave when the war began. They were always surrounded by young women waving handkerchiefs and weeping.” She increased her pressure on Faith’s hand. “Call your experience a girlish fancy and let it go. You have more important things to think about.”
    Faith forced a smile. “Like these dirty dishes.”
    She wished it were as easy to scrub Royal from her mind as it was to clean the dinner plates.

8
     
    W hen the Lindbergs were ready to leave, Curt stood next to the front door, arms