TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "CUSHION"

 

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "cushion". We have another episode of "Sarah's Dilemma", my historical romance this week. But Sarah's grandmother is front and center. Don't forget to return to Tuesday Tales and read the terrific stories there. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Sarah laid down the basket of flowers on the kitchen table. The sound of wagon wheels bumping along the rutted road drew the attention of the family. Sarah's grandmother, Martha, hurried to the front window in time to see a wagon stopping in front of a small home. An older man of mid-height, dressed in black alit. He helped two women down. Martha rubbed the wavy glass with her sleeve and peered out. Sarah and Abby joined them.

“Looks like a new family,” Martha said.

The gentleman had silver hair brushing on his collar. The first woman he helped down didn’t look old enough to be his wife. The second woman looked even younger.

“A widower, I reckon,” Martha mumbled.

“I think you’re right,” Abby said.

“A new family in town? Seems like we ought to be neighborly. Sarah, wipe out that basket and fill with a loaf of your fresh bread, some muffins and one of our small jars of blueberry jam. I’ll be right back.” Martha hiked her skirt an inch or two and trudged up the stairs.

Sarah hustled into the kitchen to prepare the basket. Not ten minutes later, Martha Chesney sashayed down the stairs, dressed in a dark purple skirt, white blouse with lace trim and a wide-brimmed hat adorned with lavender feathers.

“Oh, my!” Sarah’s mouth hung open.

"Sarah, get my hat pin from the pin cushion would you, dear?" 

“Grandma! You look beautiful!” Lizzy hugged her grandmother’s legs.

“Thank you, child.”

Abigail simply smiled and nodded.

“Basket ready?” Martha cocked an eyebrow at Sarah, who ran into the kitchen to fetch it. She handed the elegantly dressed basket with a napkin draped over it to Martha. “Perfect.” The older woman threaded the pin through the hat and her hair and smiled.

She took the basket and flounced out the door, the gentle spring breeze ruffled the feathers. The gentleman lifted a trunk from the wagon and hauled it inside the house. Martha approached as he returned to the wagon.

“Well, hello, Madam. I’m Abiel Lee, the new Sheriff,” he said, taking off his hat and bowing.

“I’m Martha Chesney, Innkeeper.” She did a little curtsy.

“Oh? I see. You own that lovely establishment?”

“I’m a widow, it belongs to my grandson, but I run the place.”

“I’m impressed. I, too, am widowed. I travel with my daughter and granddaughter.”

When Martha made eye contact with him, she swore she spied a smidge of flirty mischief. She smiled warmly. Noting his slightly square jaw, bright blue eyes, and full head of silver hair. What a handsome man!

Two women joined them.

“Allow me to present my daughter, Hope, and my granddaughter, Violet.”

“Nice to meet you.” The women curtsied. Martha offered the basket. “Here’s a little something for you, our new neighbors.”

“Thank you.” Hope took the basket and pulled back the cloth. “How nice. We’re mighty hungry. It was a long trip.”

That's all for now. 

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