Free Death of a Dyer by Eleanor Kuhns

do it anyway,” Rees said, staring at the stubborn set of her shoulders.
    She turned, her eyes sparkling defiantly. “Yes. Why not? After all, I am only your housekeeper.”
    Rees jerked back, his cheeks stinging as though she’d slapped him. “All right,” he said after he’d caught his breath. “I’ll drive you and David into Dugard.”
    “Are you certain? After all, people might see us together.”
    “Yes. I need to stop in Dugard and talk to a few people anyway. Besides,” he said, looking for the bright side, “Potter already knows you as my housekeeper.” Lydia’s mouth twitched down unhappily. Rees did not know how to correct his thoughtless comment without making it worse. “I’ll speak to David,” he said, rising to his feet.
    “Speak to me about what?” David came out of the mudroom. Lydia uttered a squeak of dismay. Mud from the yard coated his boots and smelled strongly of cow.
    “Finding a girl to help Lydia Jane. What are you doing in the house so early?”
    “Most of the lads helping me have to be home in time to finish their own milking,” David said with a twist of his lips.
    He looked at Lydia uncertainly. She nodded. “I’ll put on my boots.” And when Rees stared at her in surprise, she added, “I’m not too fine a lady to milk. And David needs the help.”
    And how clever of Lydia to offer it, Rees thought. Working with David would go a long way toward overcoming his reservations about her place in their lives. “I’ll help, too,” Rees said, wondering what would happen if she returned to Zion. Would David feel abandoned all over again? Or would he be glad? Rees wished he’d considered David’s reactions when he’d invited Lydia to Dugard, but it was too late now.
    “Thank you,” David said in surprise. “We’ll finish all the more quickly.”
    Lydia disappeared into the mudroom to slip on her clogs. Abandoning his stew, Rees followed them out of the house and to the barns. Although David and Lydia did not speak, their silence was one of joined purpose. Rees didn’t like it. He wanted them to be friendly, yes, but not enjoy a relationship of their own. What if he didn’t wed Lydia? Or worse, what if he did? When he started traveling, it would be like leaving Dolly behind all over again.
    *   *   *
    Rees rose before dawn on Saturday, but David was awake before him. He’d already packed a large basket filled with jugs of honey and several crates of eggs into the wagon. He was standing by the wagon holding a table, Dolly’s table, when his father joined him in the yard. Rees looked at the table and the rough chair that accompanied it. “Mother’s table…” David said. “I wasn’t sure.…”
    Rees nodded. He remembered building them for Dolly to display the cheeses, as well as the milk and butter she sold. Although most of the farms hereabouts kept cattle, Dolly had treated her cows almost like pets, and in response they had given such sweet creamy milk, Dolly’s cheese and butter had been famous. Rees remembered teasing her that she loved her herd more than she did him.
    “I don’t think your mother would mind,” Rees said.
    “She really is gone,” David said, his eyes glistening with tears.
    Rees put his arm around his son’s shoulder. David knew his mother had passed away. But at the sight of her table and her chair, he felt the cutting pain of her loss, fresh and immediate, all over again. “Not completely,” Rees said. “Not as long as we remember her.”
    “And now Miss Lydia…”
    Rees struggled to think of something comforting to say that would not be disloyal to either woman. “No one will ever replace your mother,” he said. “Ever. But she would not want either of us to live in misery. You know that. She would want us to be happy.…” As he spoke, he realized that although he had intended to comfort David, he was also comforting himself.
    David pondered his father’s words for a moment and then heaved a sigh. “She wouldn’t