Free The Heirloom Brides Collection by Tracey V. Bateman Page B

satisfaction in her eyes.
    “You enjoy working at the store,” he pointed out.
    Ma nodded thoughtfully. “True, but I didn’t work there when your pa was alive. I enjoyed taking care of the house and you and Ruth.” She smiled at him as they reached the steps to the house. “Since he died, I find the store provides me with distraction from missing him so much.”
    Stuart held on to her hand as she slowly negotiated the stairs, and they entered the house together. “I’ll call you when lunch is ready,” she said.
    “Ma, about Miss Annie…”
    She turned and frowned. “Annie? What about that woman?”
    “The other night at dinner you said something that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”
    She gave a snort. “I wish you’d listen to what I say about Betsy Lowell with that kind of attention.”
    A smile tipped the corners of Stuart’s lips. “Don’t change the subject. What did you mean when you said Betsy’s tardiness had nothing to do with the way Miss Annie was acting?”
    Ma shrugged and walked toward the kitchen as though that was supposed to end the matter. Stuart followed her and leaned against the doorframe as she pulled out an iron skillet and stoked the fire. “Well?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
    “She remembers what day that is, too.”
    “I don’t understand.” He frowned. “You don’t mean about Pa’s death.”
    “Just leave it be, Son.”
    Her jaw was set, so Stuart knew there was no point in pushing the issue. She pulled a bowl of potatoes off the shelf and began to peel them. Stuart stood for a minute longer, then walked back toward the sitting room. He glanced out at the gray day. He had a feeling more snow was on the way.
    At six o’clock that evening, he stepped over the threshold of the Avery home, carrying a warm apple pie. Mrs. Avery smiled. “Stuart, so nice to see you.” She looked over his shoulder. “And your ma?”
    “Feeling a little poorly, I’m afraid.” The coming weather was bothering her hip, and she’d decided to lie down with the hot-water bottle and a book. “She sent the pie and her regrets.”
    “We’ll send her a plate home, and I’ll have the doc stop by and see her tomorrow.”
    “If I can convince her to stay home.” Ma hadn’t missed a day at the store since Pa died. But Stuart knew that couldn’t continue much longer. With all of her aches and pains, it was becoming increasingly clear she needed to let him take over.
    Maybe he’d discuss Ma’s condition with the doc, even though she’d be furious at him for doing so. He shed his coat and hat just inside the door, and Mrs. Avery hung them on the peg board. He glanced around, shifting his gaze first toward the kitchen, then toward the room he’d helped carry Old Joe into a few weeks earlier.
    Mrs. Avery patted his arm. “She’s in there with Old Joe. He’s not perking up the way Doc wants him to.”
    Seeing no point in denying that he was looking for Betsy, he nodded and handed Mrs. Avery the pie.
    “Smells wonderful,” she said. “And still warm.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Stuart glanced at Old Joe’s door again.
    “Come on into the kitchen. I’ll get you some coffee. Dinner will just be a few minutes.” She winked as he held the door open for her. “Mrs. Vale had twins last week, so Mr. Vale paid the doctor a chicken for each of his new sons. Don’t they smell delicious?”
    Stuart laughed. “Yes, ma’am, they certainly do.” She poured a cup of coffee and set it on the table.
    “Can I set the table for you?” he asked.
    “I should say not.”
    “Oh, now, I help my ma in the kitchen all the time.”
    “And that’s good of you.” She gave him a look that said not to argue and waved him toward the chair. “But you are my guest, and my guests do not work for their supper.”
    Which was all well and good, but Stuart felt ill-at-ease just sitting there, doing nothing while she fluttered about the kitchen, setting the table, pulling the