Last Excerpt Before Release Day

Hello again, and welcome to the last week before What Mends the Heart's Release Day!

I've taken an informal poll on social media as to which scenes I should post and which I should save for when people read the book (now available for preorder, and coming to Kindle Unlimited on October 15th). Based on the near-consensus expressed, I'm holding back some scenes I might otherwise put here, with the result that this may be the last excerpt I post before Release Day. At least it's a nice long one.

This scene features Freida Kennedy, a widow from New York who has been living -- and matchmaking -- in Cowbird Creek for some years. She has now turned her attention to Stephen, tailor and grieving widower, and Rebecca. As a widow, she has some understanding of Stephen's state of mind. She enters the tailor shop as Stephen is working on a dress for Rebecca. The dog Major belongs to Dr. Joshua Gibbs.

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Lost in imagining how the dress would look when finished, Stephen jumped at the sound of the doorbell jangling, followed by the hearty voice of Freida Kennedy. “Good afternoon! Am I disturbing you? So busy you are, I hope Mr. Sherman will be grateful for how well you’re taking care of his customers, but you shouldn’t overdo.“

To Stephen’s surprise, the dog Major walked in with her as if Dr. Gibbs had assigned it to keep an eye on his patient. Stephen hurried to steer her toward a chair, and she plopped down on it, Major sitting alertly beside her. The moment she was seated, she asked eagerly, “Have you had a chance to start the dress for Rebecca yet, or should I say Miss Wheeler, but you know who I mean, I can’t wait to see it!”

Stephen pulled out the fabric he’d been considering and laid it on the cutting table. “What do you think of this selection? You know Miss Wheeler better than I. Would she like it?”

Mrs. Kennedy gave him a look somewhere between innocent and knowing. “ Yes, I know Rebecca, but it’s so good to have a man’s view, you know what a man appreciates on a woman, and why shouldn’t Rebecca be appreciated?”

“I can hardly speak for all men.” Stephen knew he sounded stiff, but the notion of preparing Rebecca for the admiration of other men was disagreeable. “For whatever it may be worth, I believe this fabric would do her justice.”

His visitor seemed to find this answer excessively pleasing, clapping her hands and exclaiming, “Just the right thing to say, we must do dear Rebecca justice, and I’m sure you’ll turn this fabric into a dress that can do it! What details do you have in mind, how different will it be from her other dresses, a little different would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

He sketched out his idea for her, and she accepted almost all of it, suggesting only an adjustment to the sleeve cuffs. “I can’t wait!” she exclaimed, leaving the chair and floating around the room as if her delight had lightened her considerable bulk. Major followed her movements with what Stephen fancied was anxiety as she said, “To see dear Rebecca in something new, something just right for her, she deserves a treat, she works so hard!” She sighed, her large bosom heaving dramatically. Then she leaned forward and peered at him. “You know I used to be Blum, not Kennedy, don’t you?”

Stephen went on alert. For Freida, that had been a short sentence. The woman was up to something.

She didn’t wait for him to reply, but went on, “I was married to my Samuel for years and years, we had our ups and downs but he was a good man, and good to me.” She looked at him with a sober expression he had not seen from her before. “We loved each other, Mr. Millory. It was hard to lose him, hard to find myself in a new life without him in it, hard to believe I would never see all his little quirks or hear his voice. Hard to know he could never touch me again, and I could never touch him.”

He wanted to stop her, to shut her up somehow before he lost control. But he could not quite bring himself to interrupt her. He bit his lip, leaned against the sewing machine, and endured.

“So I moved to Cowbird Creek for a change, because having to live a different life might be easier in a different place, I wouldn’t have to see places Samuel had been or think I was still smelling his smell even after I’d given all his clothes away . . . I wouldn’t even have to listen to our friends try to make me feel better. I moved here, and I kept busy so I wouldn’t have as much time to brood, and I made friends, and when they were single I tried to help them find someone to marry . . . because I’d been happy when I was married and I wanted them to be happy too, it was a little like being happy myself.”

Leaning on the machine meant facing Freida, and he needed to turn away. He went over to the cabinet and braced himself facing it.

“And then who should come to town but Jedidiah Kennedy, that big handsome man with the gold curls and the big voice, with a medicine wagon that drove Joshua Gibbs crazy, until I made him talk to Jedidiah and find out what kind of man he was. And who would ever have thought that old Freida Blum would end up Freida Kennedy, bumping along all over the country in a wagon, seeing one new place after another, and happy with it all. And even now, when Jedidiah and Joshua joined forces and made me stay put instead of traveling around any more, I still get to see him whenever he comes to town, for as long as he can stay, and in between I can think of him and it’s so different from thinking about Samuel, I still love Samuel but it’s easier to think of him now, I wouldn’t have thought that. It’s easier to think about the husband I loved, because I have a husband I love again, and it doesn’t hurt the way it did before, not as much. So you see.”

She didn’t say what he was supposed to see. She just let him draw the conclusion, while she sat there breathing a little hard. Before he found anything to say or trusted his voice to say it, she was talking again, more slowly. “So now you can be angry, I have no business talking to you this way when we haven’t known each other all that long, I come in here to talk about a dress and next thing you know I’m telling you how to live. I’d say I was sorry, but really I’m not sorry except for upsetting you, any more than I was sorry when I tried to match people up and they got annoyed about it. But maybe someone new will come to town, like Jedidiah came to me, and then I can try again, what do you think?”

Stephen turned slowly around and said, as normally as he could, “I would expect nothing less. You want to see your friend happy, and she deserves to be.”

Freida cocked her head. “Like you? Or are you different, you shouldn’t be happy, or you should only be happy once, twice would be too much?” She hoisted herself to her feet. “Well, I’ll be going, you have plenty of work to do, and here I am distracting you. Thank you for letting me help a little with the dress, it’s going to be beautiful, Rebecca will love it!” And without waiting for him to respond, she clomped to the door and left, Major trotting alongside.

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Could you resist Freida's persuasion, if she set her sights on you?

Two Weeks to Go! -- So Here's Another Excerpt from WHAT MENDS THE HEART

I've been away, visiting family and (sigh) getting sick, but I'm back at my keyboard and ready to post another excerpt from What Mends the Heart! Previous posts have provided a character sketch of Stephen Millory, tailor and grieving widower; introduced him properly, with two scenes from his point of view; similarly introduced Rebecca Wheeler, who runs the local boarding house; and shown how both of these characters handled an embarrassing request Rebecca makes of Stephen. Why embarrassing? Well, she's asking him to do some sewing for her unlikely friend Mamie, who runs the local "parlor house."

Now, with only two weeks to go before Book Release Day, here's another scene, where Stephen brings Rebecca to meet his horse Breeze. Stephen has another errand at the stable: he has arranged to show Jacob Flint, the owner of the stable (and Mamie's husband), some horse blankets Jacob may wish to purchase. (If you're curious about how the local madam and the owner of the livery stable ended up together, you can read all about it in What Shows the Heart.)

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“Here he is. Breeze, say hello to my landlady, who takes care of her boarders even better than Flint here takes care of you.”

Mr. Millory talked more easily, and with more warmth, to the horse than he did to any of the people she’d seen him with. He stroked the horse’s nose and neck; the horse nickered and ran its nose along his shoulder. Was this animal the closest connection the man had left? It was, in a way, like being introduced to a man’s family. She felt inclined to curtsy, but restrained herself, approaching instead to feed the horse an apple she’d brought along.

“This must be the blanket that impressed Mr. Flint so much.” She fingered the thick, rich material and imagined being clothed in it. “I can see why. It must keep him wonderfully cozy. I hope Breeze realizes how lucky he is.”

“Here are the others I brought.” He picked up the small pile of horse blankets and laid them one by one on the hay bales. He picked up one with deep greens and blues woven in a sort of plaid. “This one’s based on a Scottish tartan, and would show up nicely on a dark brown horse or a black one.” Next came one in white and yellow. “This would look good on a bay. And this one,” he said, pointing to the third, combining shades of red from light rose to maroon, “could work for any number of horses.”

Rebecca came close to see the patterns and textures better. Mr. Millory was still standing there. They were standing there together, close together, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him in the chilly stable. How could a man who kept to himself, a man so lonely, give off so much warmth?

He picked up the white and yellow blanket and held it out to her. Quietly, as if talking to himself, he said, “This one goes with your hair.” And as she stood there in shock, he went on, “Would you like to hold it?”

She reached for it, delighting in the feel of the material, resisting a mad impulse to drape it over her head like a scarf or a hat. Mr. Millory’s mouth twitched as if trying to smile, and he said, “I was right.”

They were facing each other now. He put out his hand as if to take the blanket back, but no, he was only touching it, touching it as she was. Their hands were only a few inches apart, and she could see his wrists. They looked strong, muscular even though lean.

Somehow the two of them were even closer to each other. Had he moved, or had she? She could feel his breath on her cheek, like a soft touch.

“Rebecca,” he said in a soft murmur. She had never thought to hear him say her name. She wanted to hear him say it again.

But what she heard instead were approaching footsteps and the light banter of conversation. Mamie and Jacob Flint had come back.

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What excerpt will I post next? Frankly, I haven't decided. If you have any requests, drop them in the comments! But in just two weeks, you'll be able to read it all. Here are the links to preorder the book on Amazon and on Bookshop.org.