The Ride of Her Life Read Free Page B

Levi out on the porch swing nearly every night. Oh, how Ben’s mother hated that. She said it wasn’t proper for a father to be caring for his baby.” The picture of tiny Levi propped on his daddy’s broad shoulder made tears cloud her eyes. She blinked and forced a smile. “The colic will stop soon enough. Besides, living with your grandmother and aunts, you’ll be lucky if you even get a chance to take care of her yourself.”
    “I’m not staying there. I’m staying here at Lake Manawa in my family’s cottage.” Emily sipped from her glass. “This brings me to a question I want to ask you, Lilly.”
    “Oh?”
    Emily set her glass down. “Marguerite told me about where you and Levi are living, and I’d like for you to come and stay with me at the cabin. I’d love the company and could use your expertise about babies.”
    Lilly handed baby Kate back to her mother. “Thank you all the same, Emily, but I’ll have to decline.”
    “Why? There are two bedrooms, so you’d have your own room, and Carter will be on the road managing the Bloomer Girls team for at least two months. Wouldn’t it be nice for Levi to have a bed and a warm place to sleep?”
    Standing, Lilly smoothed her apron. “Levi and I have a place, and I can assure you I keep him snug as a bug.”

    “I told you she’d say no.” Marguerite shot a glare at Lilly before turning to Emily. “I offered to let her stay with us too, but she’s as stubborn as an ink stain, and she thinks she has to manage all on her own.”
    Lilly fisted her apron. “You don’t understand.”
    “I understand perfectly.” Marguerite poked the table with her finger. Lilly might have changed quite a bit in the last ten years, especially since Ben’s death, but in the area of mulish independence, she hadn’t budged.
    Emily glanced toward the kitchen. “Uh—”
    “You don’t need to go standing up for her, Emily. Lilly’s got some foolish idea about not letting anyone—including her best friends—help her.”
    Emily stiffened in her chair. “Do you smell something burning?”
    “The stew!” Lilly raced into the kitchen and yanked the pot off the burner. She lifted the lid and dipped her spoon into the contents. She pushed some to the side. The stew in the bottom of the pot lay blackened.
    “Is it ruined?” Emily asked.
    “I believe I can salvage it.” She scowled at Marguerite. “If no one distracts me again.” She lifted a chunk of carrot, blew on it, and slipped it between her lips. “It’s charred, but nothing a few raw potatoes and a bit of sugar won’t take care of, thank the Lord.”
    She dumped the stew from the charred pot into a second clean pot and surveyed how much of the main course clung to the bottom like paste. “Oh well, my supper will be a little crisp tonight.”
    “Is it okay?” Marguerite bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to get Lilly in some kind of trouble.
    Using a paring knife, Lilly cut the peel off a potato in a long string. “It’ll be fine.”
    “What can we do to help?”
    “Nothing.”
    “That answer is not acceptable.” Marguerite remained planted in Lilly’s path. Why did Lilly still insist on keeping her at arm’s length when they’d been through so much together?
    Hands planted on her hips, Marguerite studied her petite friend. Lilly’s chestnut-colored hair was pinned up in a fashionable Gibson girl style, and the ruffles of her white shirtwaist peeked over the top of her apron. If this were a home, she’d look like any other wife tending to the needs of her family.
    It wasn’t fair. She should be enjoying a love-filled life with Ben, not fending for herself as a cook. A very stubborn cook. Since she’d married Ben, many of Lilly’s rough edges had been smoothed. It wasn’t that Ben had ever said a word. Lilly had simply wanted to be the best wife she could be and had been determined to become the kind of lady others expected at his side. She’d learned the proper way to speak, sit,