Catching Kent Page 6
“Eli!” she protested.
“Enough,” her father said. “Let’s have a pleasant evening.”
He turned back to the piano, something she was grateful for. As he played the C major scale, she saw Kent carefully enter the parlor. She fought the urge to run over to help him. She’d already endured enough from her brothers without giving them another reason to tease her.
Her father set the newspaper down and moved the ottoman in front of an empty chair. “You want to sit here?”
Kent glanced at the piano, and she caught the longing in his eyes.
“Do you play the piano?” she asked him.
“Rose,” her father kindly admonished.
“Actually,” Kent began, still standing, “I love playing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of doing so.”
“In that case, you’re more than welcome to play on ours,” her father offered. “Eli, let Kent play some songs.”
Eli’s shoulders slumped but he obliged so Kent could hobble over to the piano bench. Once he settled down, he set the crutch near him and looked at Eli. “You any good at this?”
“I’m still learning,” Eli replied.
“I can teach you,” Kent offered.
“Are you any good?” Adam asked, intrigued.
“I love playing,” Kent began, tracing the keys, “and I think the love of doing something inspires excellence.”
Her father returned to his seat and folded the newspaper so he could return it to the stack beside him. “Well said. I couldn’t agree more.” Rose’s mother and sister came into the parlor, and he gestured for them to sit. “Kent’s about to play the piano for us.”
“Really?” Rose’s mother smiled as she sat by her father. “I’d love to hear some music.”
“Especially if the music isn’t off-key,” Adam teased, glancing at Eli who huffed.
“Alright, everyone,” her mother said, “let’s not argue while a guest is in the room.”
Harriett sat in the empty chair and smiled at Rose.
Rose wondered what the smile was about. Harriett had some time to speak to Kent. Did they talk about her?
“Is there any song you’d like me to play?” Kent asked as he browsed the list of songs in the thick book.
“Anything will be fine,” her father said, slipping his arm around her mother’s shoulders and grinning at her.
Rose sighed. How she wanted Kent to do that with her. It was such a sweet and romantic gesture. She recalled the way it felt to have his arm around her shoulders. Granted, she was helping him to the dining room, but she enjoyed every moment he was touching her.
“If no one has any requests, there is something I’d like to play,” Kent said, turning to the pages of the book until he found the one he wanted.
“Now I’m curious,” Adam replied. “Go on.”
With a nod, Kent set the book in front of him and ran his fingers over the C major scale a couple of times.
“That’s it?” Eli asked. “I could’ve done that.”
Kent chuckled and shook his head. “I was warming up.” Glancing at her father, he added, “There’s a key that needs a little tuning. It’s not bad but it could sound better with some tweaking. Would it be alright if I tuned it tomorrow?”
“That would be much appreciated,” her father replied. “We rarely play the thing. It was a gift from Rachel’s husband. Rachel is our oldest daughter.”
“He loves music,” her mother added.
“He has good taste. This is a nice piano.” Kent straightened on the bench and took a deep breath before he played the melody.
Rose shifted in her seat, wondering why he chose something so sad. If it’d been her, she would have picked something light, maybe something with a good beat to it. He, however, chose the song he did for a reason, and whether he was aware of it or not, it told her quite a bit about him. She’d been right earlier that day. He’d been in love once. He probably wanted to marry the object of his affection. Judging by the way he played, she suspected the woman had married someone else, leaving him heartbroken. She wondered how long ago it happened. Was that why he left Ireland? Was he leaving her behind? Was he trying to start a new life, to move on?
He finished the song and her mother dabbed the tears from her eyes. “That was beautiful.”
“It sure was,” Adam softly replied, his knife still on the tree branch. “I didn’t think a piano could make that kind of music.”
“I want to hear something fun.” Eli stood up and thumbed through the book. He stopped on one of the pages and pointed to the song. “This one. It’s my favorite.”
Smiling, Kent nodded. “It was one of my favorites at one time, too.”
What did he mean by that? Rose paid careful attention as he played the upbeat melody. The music made her think of laughter and hope, probably two things he’d denied himself for far too long. It was a glimpse into the person he used to be. A person he was before the woman he used to love came along. Rose had no doubt that the person he used to be was still inside him, but it’d been so long since he let that side of him out, he couldn’t find it anymore. At least, not on his own.
After some urging by her family, he went on to play a couple more songs before they decided it was time to go to bed. She caught the reluctant expression on his face. He didn’t want to stop playing.
“Pa, can he play tomorrow?” she asked, thinking she’d get the question answered for him. She didn’t think he’d have the courage to ask it himself, probably in fear that he’d overstep his bounds. If there was nothing else she picked up from watching him, it was how often he repressed his desires.
“Of course,” her father said then looked at Kent. “Feel free to come down here any time you want to play.”
Excited, Eli asked, “Will you teach me to play some of those songs?”
She caught Kent’s grateful smile and was happy for him.
“I’d be happy to,” he told Eli, “as long as it’s alright with your father.”
“As long as you get your chores done,” her father told Eli.
“I will,” Eli promised and turned to Kent. “Can we start tomorrow?”
Kent nodded. “Yes, but we have to make sure you master the simple songs before we move on to more complicated ones.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now that that’s settled,” her mother began, “we need to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow and Joel will be coming out to see how things are going.”
Since Rose couldn’t help Kent up the stairs, she left the parlor with her sister. She managed to wait until they were in their bedroom before she cornered her. “What did you and Kent talk about in the dining room?”
The corners of her sister’s lips turned up. “I wondered how long it would take before you asked.”
With a groan, she followed her sister to the dresser. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
“It was nothing. He only wanted to apologize for being curt with me earlier today.”
“When was he curt?”
“When he was on the porch. I gave him a glass of water and he thought I was you.” She removed the pins from her hair and set them on her side of the dresser. “Why didn’t you tell him you had a twin sister?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“You think I don’t matter?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that he’s going to marry me, not you, so why would he care if you’re here?”
Harriett rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Oh come on. I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”
“Do you assume every young man who comes our way is going to marry you instead of me?”
“No. There’s only one man I’ve been sure about and it’s Kent. All the others who wanted to court me weren’t ones I wanted to marry. You don’t want to marry him, do you? I’d hate for a man to come between us.”
Her sister brushed her hair. “No, I don’t want to marry him. I don’t even know him.”
She bit her lower lip and studied her sister’s reflection in the mirror. “You won’t get to know him well enough to want to marry him, will you?”
To her surprise, Harriett laughed. “I can’t believe it.”
“Can’t believe what?”
“None of the young men have ever wanted to be with me. They’ve always wanted to be with you. If anything, I should worry about you stealing someone from me, not the other way around.”
“I don’t know. You know how to cook good meals, the kind that makes everyone run to the table. They say that the stomach is the way to a man’s heart.”
“If that was true, then why are you the one turning down hopeful young men?”
Rose pulled the ribbon out of her hair and considered her sister’s question. “I don’t know why they come to me instead of you. You and I look exactly alike. It can’t be because I’m prettier than you.”
“I know why. It’s because you have a pleasant way about you. You’re a lovely person to know.”
“So are you.”
“Not in the same way.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she slipped out of her dress and hung it in the armoire. “I don’t see how we’re all that different.”
“I can’t explain it. You just… I don’t know. I suppose it’s the way you see life. You daydream so much, but those daydreams make you excited about ordinary things, things the rest of us take for granted. I suppose men like your enthusiasm.”
“That’s not fair, Harriett. You enjoy life.”
“I’m more serious than you. Pa is right. I’m more like our mother and you’re like Uncle Joel. It does no good to change who we are. Things are the way they are for a reason.”
Rose placed her chemise and petticoats on a shelf and pulled out her nightshirt. “Kent is sad. Something terrible happened in his past.”
Harriett set the brush down and hurried over to her. “Did he tell you this?”
After she shrugged into the nightshirt, she started braiding her hair. “No, but he didn’t have to. The songs he chose to play told me.”
“He played a lot of them, some happy, some sad.”
“I said it was the songs he chose. Eli and Pa chose the happy ones. He chose sad ones. It was enough to break my heart.” Even thinking about them brought tears to her eyes. “It was also in the way he played them. His posture, the expression on his face… His past haunts him even though he struggles to forget it.”
Her sister crossed her arms. “I think your imagination is getting the best of you. You can’t learn all of that just by watching someone play the piano.”
Rose decided not to argue with her. Harriett had a hard time understanding why she could detect things in people by studying the way they talked or by the way they moved their bodies. She didn’t even know how to explain it, except that whether people were aware of it or not, they gave clues into their lives. Most often, it was in the subtle things, tiny details often overlooked. If her sister wasn’t so busy running around doing things, she might take the time to notice those things.
“It’s been a long day,” she finally said and settled into her bed. “Why don’t you teach me how to make that beef stew you’re so famous for?”
A smile crossed Harriett’s face. “You’d like to learn my recipe?”
“I can’t promise I’ll be as good as you but yes, I’d like to try it.”
With an excited shriek, she clapped her hands and finished getting ready for bed.
Rose grinned and closed her eyes.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Kent decided to join the Larsons for breakfast, so he let Adam help him down the stairs. His gaze went to the parlor where the piano was. His fingers itched to play another song.
“Oh, good! You’re well enough to eat breakfast down here,” Rose called out from behind him.
He would have lost his balance had it not been for his crutch. Gingerly turning around, he saw Rose bounding down the stairs, her ponytail swishing from side to side. She reached the bottom of the steps and made a move to slip her arm around his waist.
“I can do it myself,” he insisted and stepped away from her.
“Rose, haven’t you heard that it’s wise to let the man do the leading?” Adam asked her.
At least she had the common sense to blush at her brother’s words. Kent could only hope it would make her stop bothering him.
“Besides,” Adam continued, still focused on her, “shouldn’t you be helping Ma and Harriett in the kitchen?”
“I was out feeding the horses,” she argued. “I came back because I thought I’d change into a dress.” She glanced at Kent. “Do you like it?” She motioned to the pink dress she wore with little white flowers on it.
As much as Kent hated to admit it, she was breathtaking to look at, especially with the way the dress hugged her curves, something he didn’t want to notice.
Adam groaned. “You’re a hopeless cause, sis. I better tell Pa and Eli breakfast is ready.” He headed outside, letting the storm door slam behind him.
“You play beautifully,” Rose told Kent, stepping closer to him.
“Excuse me?”
“The piano. Last night when you played. I’ve never heard anyone play music with so much emotion. You have a wonderful gift.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” Unsure of what else to say, he hobbled toward the dining room.
Not surprising, she stayed right by his side. “Music is how you connect with your feelings, isn’t it?”
He shrugged.
“Oh, I know it is. I could feel it. Every note you played echoed something you experienced at some point in your life. The sad songs were so haunting, so incredibly deep in sorrow. Tears sprang to my eyes. Then when you played a happier tune, the heaviness from the sad songs left and in its place was great hope. It lifted my spirit to incredible heights, heights I never thought possible. You went through something very painful in the past, didn’t you? And now you’re trying desperately to find a happy ending.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, unnerved that she perceived so much about him.
“You’ll find that happy ending with me, Kent. All I want is to make you happy.”
“You want to make me happy?” he asked, struggling to hold back the sarcasm in his voice.
“Of course, I do. You’re meant for me, and I’m meant for you. There’s no one else I’ll marry.”
He gritted his teeth, forcing back the memory of a time when another woman promised she’d never love anyone but him, that she’d given her heart to him forever.
Her eyes lit up with understanding. “That’s it, isn’t it? There was another lady in your past, one you’d given your heart to, one who promised she’d always love you and no one else. But she married someone else.”
“Stay away from me,” he snapped, not at all comfortable with the turn of their conversation.
“I’m sorry, Kent. Truly I am. But even though you went through the pain of a heartbreak, fate has led you to me.”
He ignored her and hobbled as fast as he could to the dining room, breathing a sigh of relief when he made it. Her mother and sister were setting the table. Good. That would stop Rose from rambling more of her nonsense. The last thing he wanted to do was dwell on the past. He came out west to leave the past behind, not rehash it.
He chanced a glance at her as she pulled out his chair for him. There was no way she could’ve detected all that from the way he played music on the piano. She’d been guessing. But it was unnerving to no end that she was so accurate.
She smiled at him and held her hand out. “I’ll put the crutch aside while you sit.”
He hesitated but since her mother and sister were bringing food into the room, he handed her the crutch and limped to the chair. Not surprising, she sat next to him once she was done, still smiling at him as if they were courting.
When they were alone, he said, “I don’t care what you think. I will never marry you. Once I’m well enough, I’m
leaving Omaha.” Before she got any ideas, he added, “And I won’t take you with me.”
Undaunted by his words, she replied, “You will marry me, and I have a feeling we’ll be staying in Omaha.”
“Is there anything I can do or say to get rid of you?”
She giggled. “Why would you want to do that?”
Really? She had to ask the question? He groaned and rubbed his eyes.
She stood up and poured him some milk. “Here. Drink this. It’s so hot outside, and I hate the thought of you being thirsty.”
“I didn’t say anything about being thirsty.”
“But you must be.”
She was completely and absolutely frightening to him. He was thirsty. But how did she know that?
“You haven’t had anything to drink yet this morning,” she said, as if she could read his mind. “It makes sense that you’re thirsty.”
He immediately felt better. Yes, it did make sense. Her figuring out the fact that he experienced unrequited love didn’t make sense. But her knowing he was thirsty did. With a relieved sigh, he picked up the glass and drank some milk.
“There. That’s better.” She rubbed his back then added, “I’m going to help Ma and Harriett with the rest of the dishes. I’ll miss you until I return.”
He rolled his eyes as she left the room.
***
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Kent asked later that day.
Rose’s mother shook her head and set a cushion on the piano bench. “Of course, I don’t mind. You play so beautifully. It’ll be nice to listen to music while I clean.”
“Well, I would rather play the piano than read or sit on the porch.” Or go back up and rest in bed. He was tired of resting in that bed. While it was comfortable enough, his body ached in certain places from having rested on it so much over the past month.
She patted the piano bench and waved him over. “It’ll just collect dust if it’s not used.”
Using his crutch, he closed the distance between him and the piano and sat on the bench.
“I’ll take that for you.” She held her hand out, so he handed her the crutch which she set against the side of the piano. “I’ll return in a few minutes with something for you to drink. Would you like water, lemonade, milk, coffee?”