She’d just finished laying the blanket on top of the basket when Jen bounded through the kitchen door. Ruth glanced at the clock. One-forty.
“You’re late.”
Jen wrinkled her nose. “You’re wearing that dress?”
Ruth smoothed the beige calico skirt. “It’s light and comfortable.”
“It’s ugly and old-fashioned. Sam will never be attracted to you in that.”
That was the point. “Appearance shouldn’t matter.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Most men aren’t nearly that high-minded. Put on something else. Even your gardening dress is prettier than that.”
Ruth hefted the basket off the table. “There’s no time. It’ll take us twenty minutes to walk to the park. If we want to get there before Sam, we have to leave now.”
Jen groaned. “At least wear a pretty hat.”
Ruth grabbed her straw garden hat with the wide brim. “Minnie, let’s go,” she called out. “Jen, could you fetch two fishing poles from the shed?”
“Why?”
“In case Mr. Roth would like to fish.”
“But you don’t—” Jen’s eyes widened. “Ooooh. That’s the point.” She grinned. “You’re craftier than I thought.”
“I am no such thing.”
Jen’s Cheshire-cat grin only broadened. “I’ll fetch the poles and meet you in the alley.”
Moments later, Ruth led her sisters down Main Street. The park was several blocks away, and with the heavy basket, she had to walk slowly and take many breaks. No breeze had come up yet, and the heat felt oppressive, so she kept to the shaded side of the street.
Half the town had decided to go to the park. The tables in the pavilion were already taken, and a game of baseball commandeered much of the open area. Dogs ran after balls and barked excitedly. Children giggled and squealed in games of tag or ring-around-the-rosy. Ruth had promised Sam that he could find them near the pavilion, so she picked a spot in front of the building.
“It’s in the sun,” Minnie complained. “We’ll die of heat.”
“You’ll be fine.” Ruth set down the basket and pulled off the blanket.
Jen leaned the poles against a tall oak and helped her spread the blanket. In an hour or so, the sun’s travels would bring the shade away from the pavilion and over them. As Ruth smoothed out the blanket, she watched for Sam. Rather than help, Minnie wandered off looking for Reggie. At first Ruth was irritated, but then she realized this could work to her advantage. Once Sam arrived, she’d excuse herself to find Minnie and suggest Jen take Sam fishing.
“He likes you,” Jen said as they settled on the blanket.
Ruth pushed Sam’s catalogs into the bottom of the picnic basket and took out the napkins rather than deal with her sister’s pointed remark.
Jen didn’t give up. “I saw the way he maneuvered into Beattie’s pew so he could sit with you.”
“He was just being helpful.”
“What bachelor volunteers to watch a toddler? Honestly, you’re so blind sometimes.”
Ruth flinched. It wasn’t so much that she was blind to Sam’s attentions, but rather she preferred he direct them toward Jen. Her sister could dazzle a man like Sam, could endlessly entertain him with her crazy ideas and impulsive behavior. Ruth, on the other hand, would soon bore him.
She moved the jar of pickled beets into the shadow of the basket. “You might call it ‘blind.’ I call it ‘realistic.’” She lined up the plates and placed one knife, one fork and one spoon on each, taking care that the knife blade was turned inward.
“Realistic?” Jen snorted. “How dull.”
Ruth choked back a sudden ache. Was she dull? Doomed to a safe life without excitement? Realism guarded against pain. In exchange it demanded the surrender of any chance at limitless joy.
“I’m not like you and Minnie.” Ruth fetched stones to put on each corner of the blanket in case a breeze arose. “I’m a homebody. I prefer a simple life. I like daily routine. Our family is my life.”
“Is that all?” Jen leaned close. “You must want romance. Everyone does.”
Ruth couldn’t admit the ache deep in her heart. “I’ve accepted my place. The dress shop and the family are enough for me.”
Jen handed her a stone. “You’re settling.”
“Maybe I want to settle.” She looked straight into her sister’s eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Find a man you adore, one who loves you with all his heart, and marry him.”
Jen’s eyes twinkled. “Speaking of adoring men, yours is almost here.”
Something between panic and delight jolted Ruth. At the sight of him, she instinctively reached up to check her hair and in the process knocked off her wide-brimmed straw hat. My, Sam was handsome! She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He strode toward her with the casual ease of a man who knew his place in the world. In his hands he carried a small carton tied with string that could have come from only the bakery. And he was within earshot. How much of her conversation had he overheard?
Her nerves fluttered as she smoothed her ragged old dress. Maybe she should have worn something better.
Sam smiled at her and held out the carton. “For you.”
“You didn’t need to bring anything.” Though her knees quaked, she managed to get out the words.
He handed her the carton. “Of course I did.”
His smile sent warmth clear to her toes, but when he bent and retrieved her hat, she nearly stopped breathing.
“I believe you lost this.” He held out the hat.
“Yes. Thank you.” Not one intelligent word remained in her head. She took the hat with her free hand. Now what? Should she set down the cake? Put on her hat? Or invite him to sit?
Pastor Gabe’s wife had noticed Sam’s arrival and was whispering something to her sister-in-law, who’d joined them with her husband for what looked to be a family picnic. The Grattans watched from a table in the pavilion. No doubt they expected a man like Sam to gravitate toward them, not one of the town’s poorer citizens.
Though the corner of Sam’s mouth lifted in a half smile, his gaze took in her dowdy dress. Jen was right. Sam, who loved color, could find nothing appealing in an old beige dress and straw hat. That was precisely why she’d worn it, so why the regret?
“Would you like to walk before dinner?” Sam held out his hand to her, not Jen.
Ruth wasn’t sure she could walk one step. He stood near, so close that his bergamot scent curled around her in a welcoming embrace. Logic dictated he could not possibly be interested in a dull wallflower with glasses, yet he’d asked her to join him.
Though her pulse raced, her practical side urged her to refuse. This course would lead to only humiliation and heartbreak. Yet as he took the carton from her hand and gave it to Jen, she wanted to believe it was possible for a gallant swan to love an ugly old goose in real life as well as the storybooks.
“I’d love to see the river, and I can think of no one better to show me.” Sam held out his arm. “Your sister won’t mind watching over the picnic for a few minutes.”
Though Jen usually balked at anyone assuming she would do something, this time she grinned and waved them on. “Go. I have things under control here.”