Author: Allison K. Pittman
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/allison-k-pittman/page,19,90458-ten_thousand_charms.html
“I know you have, John.” Maureen reached up to put a hand on John William's shoulder. “But be patient with her. Let her come to God. Then she'll come to you.”
They stood there for a moment, the three of them connected.
He'd been watching Gloria through the window this whole time, but she just now returned his gaze. He smiled and took up Kate's hand to offer a little wave. Gloria blew a little kiss to Kate, then met John William's eyes and stuck out her tongue before standing up and flouncing away from the table.
John William laughed. “Maureen? You asked when I fell in love with her?”
“Yes.”
“I think just now.”
This he givesjou, this he gives you,
Tis the Spirit'sglimm'ring beam;
This he givesjou, this he givesjou,
'Tis the Spirit's glimm'ring beam.
he first day of harvest started long before dawn. Maureen was putting a third pan of biscuits into the oven when Gloria, bleary-eyed, came into the kitchen to help her.
“You get on over and start stirring that gravy,” Maureen said, directing Gloria to a large saucepan on the stove.
“You're trusting me to make gravy?”
“No, I'm trusting you to stir gravy,” Maureen said. “And mind you don't let it scorch, or you'll have a bunch of angry workers on your hands.”
The crew showed up at dawn. Six men and a young boy piled out of the back of a wagon hungry for Maureen's famous biscuits ‘n’ gravy.
“Now you all just hold your britches,” Maureen said, walking out to the front yard to greet them. “Get out your cups. Breakfast'll be up soon.”
The men stood in a line, mugs held out ready for a steaming cup of coffee. Maureen made her way down the line, greeting each man in turn.
“Ron, good to see you again. This your son? Looks just like you, don't he…Bill, looks like you've put on a few pounds…Sam, now didn't I tell you that woman would be no good?”
Each man shifted his feet, muttered a reply.
“Norman, have you had a doctor look at that? Lonnie, you just get more and more handsome…Big Phil, I'm still using Anne's cream pie recipe.”
Gloria watched all of this through the kitchen window, fascinated by Maureen's transformation. Normally sedate, almost matronly, she became flirtatious and coy. The men continued to shuffle and blush until finally one of them—Lonnie, she thought—reached out to take Maureen's hand.
“Won't seem right workin’ these fields without Ed,” he said. “He was a good man.”
“Yes, he was," Maureen said.
“This new man, you sure he ain't just after your land?”
Maureen laughed and gave him a nudge in his ribs. “Lon, I know he's just after my land.”
“Aw, Maureen, you know what I'm talkin’ about. He ain't just takin’ it out from under you.”
“Don't you worry,” Maureen said. “We hit on a fair price. Some he's paid cash, the rest he's working off. He gets a working farm, I get to stay on a bit and have help while I'm staying. I love this place, Lon. Ed and I worked hard here. Trust me, I wouldn't hand it over to just anybody. John William MacGregan's a good man.”
Just then, John William came around the corner from the barn.
“Speak of the devil,” Gloria muttered to herself, forgetting to stir the gravy.
He strode across the yard, seeming taller, stronger than Gloria ever remembered. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them in apparent anticipation of the day's work ahead. She heard him holler “Mornin'!” to the crowd before making his way down the line of workers, offering each a hearty handshake. When he got to Maureen, he engulfed her in a brawny hug and planted a kiss on her gray curls.
“Let's get to work!” His voice boomed into the morning, and the men raised their cups in agreement.
“Let's have breakfast first,” Maureen said, earning an even louder cheer. She turned and looked straight at Gloria through the kitchen window. “Gloria, bring on the biscuits! John, you go on in and get the gravy. That skillet's heavy.”
The gravy!
Gloria turned her attention back to the stove and used the wooden spoon to break apart the skin that had formed on the top. Then she dipped it into the creamy mass, gingerly touching the bottom, testing for the soft sign of scorching.
“Gloria?" It was the first he'd spoken to her since their argument yesterday after church. “I'll take that outside now.”
She whirled around to face him, and smiled at what she saw.
“You trimmed it,” she said.
“Yes.” He brought his hand up to his newly trimmed beard. It was cut close to his face, each line and contour clearly visible. “But I didn't cut the hair.”
“So I see.”
His hair was pulled back and secured with a strip of leather at the nape of his neck. His ears, bulging and disfigured, were clearly visible. She noticed that he seemed to make an effort not to bring his hand up to cover them.
“The gravy?”
“What?”
“Maureen asked me to take the gravy outside. You're to bring the biscuits.”
Oh, yes. Of course.”
They stood there in the half-dark, oven-warmed kitchen. The last time they spoke, he said he wanted her. She wondered if he still did. His gaze was unsettling, her breath uneven, and the gravy was Hopping,sending splatters to sizzle on the hot stove.
“The gravy,” they said simultaneously.
She handed him a tea towel to wrap around the hot handle, and he reached around her to lift the pan off the stove. She stepped aside before his arm could brush against her.
“I'll be right out with the biscuits,” she said. “Tell Maureen I'll put more coffee on.”
Try as she might, Gloria could not ignore the hired hands’ appreciative looks as Maureen introduced her to them one by one. Even though no one said more than, “Nice to meet you, ma'am,” each pair of eyes peered out from under a sweat-stained hat brim and lingered just a little too long on her face. She declined to shake hands after the one named Sam deposited a sweaty glaze.
The oldest of the bunch, Big Phil, was a portly man with a ruddy face and a ready laugh. He took one look at Gloria, then one look at John William and said, “Now, MacGregan, 1 swear. I don't see how a man with a mug as ugly as yours could get himself a beauty like this. Just don't seem right.”
“Maybe he hasn't quite got me yet,” Gloria said, smiling slyly. “After all, we're new here. I had no idea I'd have so many choices.”
The men let out a hearty laugh, and Big Phil grabbed Gloria around the waist and planted a meaty kiss on her cheek.
“You'd better hold on to this one, MacGregan,” he said. “Reminds me of my wife. She's a spunky one, too.”
“Yes,” John William said. “I'm truly blessed.”
“It's like they say” Maureen said, “there's a lid for every pot.”
“Well, this lid's going inside,” Gloria said. “I've got a baby calling me.”
John William marveled at the power of the reaper, pulled by a team of horses, as its blades cut the wheat stalk close to the ground. Ed Brewster bought the machine after his most profitable harvest, an investment Maureen had said was long overdue. Two of the men, Big Phil and Lonnie, owned their own reapers even though Big Phil didn't have a crop to bring in, and Lonnie didn't even own land. Each would collect a rental fee on top of the pay for their labor. John William had to convince Maureen to lay out the extra cost. But with three machines and five men—well, four men and one strong boy—working to bind the stalks, he figured they would be able to harvest nearly fifteen acres a day With just over three hundred acres—half of Maureen's section—he expected it wouldn't take more than three weeks to get the whole crop in.
This harvest was a far cry from the fieldwork he'd done beside his father, a hired hand much like the men he employed today. He remembered endless days of swinging a sickle and stooping to gather bundles of wheat. Now it was near noon, and already he and his team had done what would have bee
n a full day's work in his childhood
“We gonna take a break soon, boss?” Big Phil's good-natured voice called from behind.
“Don't call me that,” John William said over his shoulder. “You all know more about this than 1 do.” He shielded his eyes and looked up toward the sun that sat in the full center of the sky. “1 expect the women will be bringing dinner out soon.”
He was right. Within minutes he heard Maureen's voice, clear and sweet, carrying across the fields.
“Sing to the Lord of harvest
singsongs of love and praise
with joyful heans and voices
jour alleluias raise.”
She was pushing a small handcart through the newly formed paths left by the reapers. Gloria followed, carrying Kate on one hip and Danny in a sling wrapped around her back. Her face was hidden within the tunnel of the sunbonnet, and he found himself wishing she would push it back and refresh him with one of her smiles.
Maureen broke off her song to announce “Dinner's on!” and a hearty cheer erupted from the men.
The contents of the cart were covered by a threadbare quilt that John William snapped in the air and laid in a place of newly cleared land. Then he took Kate out of Gloria's arms and lifted her to a giggly height before bringing her back down for a nuzzling nose rub.
“Men,” he said with pride, “this is my little princess Katherine Celestia MacGregan. We call her Kate.”
Big Phil removed his hat, took her tiny hand and bent low over it, planting a solemn kiss.
“And if you'll take her, sir,” John William said, handing Kate over to Big Phil, “I'll introduce you to my son.” He lifted Danny out of the sling, untangled Gloria's thick braid from his grasp, and took him through the same ritual of big lifts and soft kisses.
“And this is Danny, my son,” he said. “Think we can put him to work today?”
Baby Danny giggled, then everybody else did, too. The men took turns passing the babies from hand to hand, each offering a special greeting, except for Ron's son who busied himself pouring water from a barrel into a galvanized tub for the horses.
Meanwhile, Maureen and Gloria set out the noontime meal. There were three loaves of bread cut into hearty slices and a cool crockery bowl of butter. Half a round of cheese was given over to Lonnie to slice into chunks. A basket of apples appeared, and each man dove for one to bite into, except for Ron's son who decided he'd rather give his to the horses, if that was all right with everybody There was ajar of pickled beets and onions, and when it was empty, the men poured shallow puddles of brine to sop up with the bread. Four jugs of gingered water were passed from man to man, each drinking his fill.
Before long, every crumb was gone, and seven men and one boy lounged on the ground under the sleepy sun. Danny and Kate rolled in the available space, making tentative inching progress using their elbows and knees. Maureen and Gloria busied themselves packing the dirty dishes back into the cart.
Big Phil rubbed his substantial stomach. “Delicious as ever, Maureen.”
“Wait and see what I got in store for you this evening,” she said.
“How ‘bout you, Miz Gloria?” Lonnie's lazy voice slithered out from under the hat that fully covered his face. He propped himself up on one elbow and lifted his hat. “You cook good, too?”
John William sat up and turned his full attention to the young man. “She's learnin'.”
Lonnie tapped his boot against John William's boot and said, “I guess there's more than one way to keep a man satisfied then, ain't there?” He laughed and looked around for the other men to join in. No one did.
“I think you owe the lady an apology,” Big Phil said.
Before Lonnie had a chance to say anything, John William was on his feet. He readied down and grabbed the front of Lonnie's shirt, bringing him to an abrupt standing position.
“And I don't know if 1 want to hire a man who would say something like that about my—”
“John William MacGregan!”
Gloria's voice stayed the hand that was drawn back in a fist.
“You let him go,” she said. “Remember what happens when you lose your temper.”
Lonnie's eyes grew wide, and he looked back and forth between John William and Gloria. “What happens?”
“Guess,” John William said through his teeth.
“Darling, we don't want any trouble here, do we? Not when we're just making friends.”
“Listen to her, MacGregan,” Lonnie said. “We don't—I don't want no trouble.”
By this time all the men were on their feet. John William continued to breathe through a face of fury, but by now the expression masked his amusement at Lonnie's fear.
“You really think I should put him down?”
“Yes," Gloria said, and the others agreed. John William released his fistful of blue cotton, and Lonnie stumbled a bit regaining his balance.
“1 didn't mean nothin',” Lonnie said, straightening his shirt.
“Let's just get back to work,” Big Phil said.
There was an uncomfortable shuffling as the men dusted off their backsides and went to harness the horses to the reaping machines. The last of the dishes were packed in the cart, and when the blanket was folded and put on top of the pile, there was plenty of room to place the babies inside for a ride home.
“There you go, big man,” John William said, swooping Danny up from the ground and settling him into the cart. “I think she can ride, too.” He took Kate from Gloria's arms and sat her down beside Danny.
“Come on, MacGregan!” Big Phil called. “Kiss the little woman good-bye and let's get back to work.”
“You heard the man,” John William said.
Gloria looked up. Her face, still shielded within the generous brim of her bonnet, registered an expression of impending doom. With one hand, John William tugged the bonnet string and pulled it from her head. With the other hand, he encircled Gloria's waist, drawing her to him. Claiming her.
“My little woman,” he said.
“Little woman, my—”
But he trapped her words in his kiss.
Her lips were full and soft, softer than anything he'd ever imagined. He felt her hands braced against his chest, not pulling him closer, but not pushing him away, either. Somewhere in the background, he heard the men whooping and hollering. Encouraged, he tightened his grip around her waist and brought his other arm around to envelope her in a full embrace. He crushed any chance she'd have to pull away. His lips smiled against hers, amused at her squeaks of weak protest.
When he reluctantly released her, she staggered a little on her feet, and he felt greatly rewarded by the dazed expression on her face. She looked flushed, a little sleepy even. It didn't last, though. Almost immediately she was stone still, alert and angry. Those same lips that had been so soft seconds ago now barely moved as they spoke her command.
“Give me my bonnet.”
The whooping and hollering became a low, amused rumble. John William looked around, egged on by his comrades, and held the bonnet high, just out of Gloria's reach.
“How bad do you want it?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“What?”
“One more kiss, and it's yours.”
“That so?” Gloria held her hands behind her back and sidled up to him, as near to him now-as when she was locked in his embrace. She tilted her face high; he could feel her breath on his neck. Her eyes closed, her lips moist and ready, she smiled and said, “Keep it. I'll risk the burn.”
She stepped away, grasped the handles of the cart, and started down the path toward the house. “Come on, Maureen,” she called over her shoulder.
He still held the bonnet, and when he brought his hand up to cover his laugh, he caught the sun-warmed scent of her hair.
“Here,” he said. “Take this to her.”
Maureen had been standing, openmouthed, throughout the ordeal. Now she offered John William a wide wink, took the bonnet, and turned to follow Gloria. “See yo
u all at supper!" she called.
John William walked the gauntlet of jeers and backslaps to take his place in the reaper's seat.
“Looks like it's gonna be a cold night tonight!”
“Whew! Anybody else feel that frost?”
John William just laughed it off. “All the more reason to get this crop in,” he said. “Looks like an early winter for this farm.”
Long after it was over, the kiss consumed her.
She thought about it all the way back, trying to ignore Maureen's amused silence. She thought about it all afternoon as she stirred pans of cornbread batter. Throughout the day, the trace of his lips, the ghost of his embrace warmed her like a fine residue until she shook it off, remembering her irritation.
But the memory came back when the men did. It rode on the sound of the reaper's blades, drifting in on the wave of masculine conversation. It wrapped around her hands as she served up supper and snaked across her cheeks as she attempted to smile and socialize. She tried to tuck it away when the men bedded down—some in the barn, some in the back of their wagons, some on a tarp under the stars—but it crackled along with the hairbrush she dragged through her curls, and it tossed on her pillow as she tried to sleep. She thought she'd leave it behind if she left her bed and settled in the parlor's rocker for a while, but it followed her there, too.
In fact, it walked right in, in lockstep with John William's bare feet.
“Gloria.”
It was the first he'd spoken to her since the kiss. She stood and walked toward him, and when she was close enough to smell his scrubbed skin, she balled up her fist and landed a resounding blow square on his jaw.
She hadn't expected him to laugh. She didn't know just what reaction she did expect, but the wry smile and low chuckle never figured into it.
“I guess I deserved that.”
“I guess you do,” she said, her anger tempered a bit.
He brought one hand up to rub the spot where Gloria's fist connected.
“You've got a good right hook there.”
“So I've been told.”
He laughed again and settled his large frame on the parlor sofa.
“Let me see,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her down to sit next to him. She uncurled her fingers, and he rah his thumb softly along the reddened knuckles. “You're probably going to bruise.”