Page 36 of For Love of Liberty

“Oh my, I bet that put both of you in a sour mood,” Mrs. Poppy said with a giggle.

Pastor Poppy smiled as he stirred more sugar into his tea. “No doubt about that, Clara. But you know what I mean, Finn—take time to get to know Liberty a little better. Then let God make the decision for you.”

Finn ducked his head, eyes in a squint. “Pardon me?”

The pastor chuckled. “I mean we’ll pray about it, of course, but then let nature take its course”—he winked—“and God.”

Finn’s curious gaze flicked from Pastor Poppy to his wife and back. “‘Nature’ taking its course I can understand, sir, but I’m not exactly sure how that will help me know what God wants me to do.”

“Oh, you’ll know,” Mrs. Poppy said with a laugh, glancing at the watch pinned to her bodice before she jumped up to pull dessert plates from the cupboard. “Because the Lord may speak in a still small voice, Griffin McShane, but trust me.” She tossed him a smile while she put the tea back on the boil. “The impact is deafening.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Legs as wobbly as her stomach, Liberty smoothed her skirt with sweaty hands as she stood on the Poppys’ front porch, finally mustering the courage to knock on their screen door. “Please don’t let him hate me,” she whispered, pretty sure Finn had changed his mind about ever courting a hothead like her.

“Liberty, hello! And, goodness, you’re early too.” Mrs. Poppy scuttled down the hall from the kitchen, where a light glowed like the woman before her. She giggled. “As was Finn, so it must be my prize-winning cake that lured you both in.”

“Without question,” Liberty said with a shy smile. That and the handsome young man eating it with me. She cast a nervous glance at Finn’s horse who chewed on clover next to the front porch, then slipped through the screen door Mrs. Poppy held open, her heart beating a little too fast to suit. The same handsome young man she hadn’t seen since she’d lambasted him earlier in the day.

“Well, I baked a special cake especially for you and Finn, I’ll have you know, just to say thank you for all the hard work you both put in for our fair town.” She shot a grin over her shoulder as she hurried down the hall. “Our co-chairs deserve it warm, right out of the oven—with ice cream!” She tugged Liberty into the kitchen that always seemed so welcoming with its eyelet curtains fluttering in the breeze and cast-iron stove bubbling with wonderful smells. Liberty peeked at Finn, and the hard clamp of his mouth twisted her stomach. Welcoming, yes.

Except for tonight.

“Look who I found out on the front porch,” Mrs. Poppy said with a husky chuckle, “the prettiest co-chair of the bunch.”

“No argument there,” Finn said with a hard smile as he slowly rose from the table.

Mrs. Poppy steered Liberty to the chair right next to Finn’s and nudged her down. “Now, you sit right here, young lady, and I’ll fix you a calming cup of poppy-seed tea to go with my special lemon-mint poppy-seed cake, all right?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Liberty whispered, not daring to look Finn’s way.

“Liberty, congratulations to you and Finn for a job well-done on the best festival our town has ever had.” Pastor Poppy retrieved dessert plates laden with napkins and utensils from the counter while his wife poured Liberty a fresh cup of tea.

Jumping up to assist, Liberty took the plates from him to distribute with shaky hands, well aware of Finn’s cool stare boring a hole right through her. “Thank you, Pastor Poppy, but we certainly couldn’t have done it without you and Mrs. Poppy, that’s for sure, so the lion’s share of the thanks goes to both of you.”

“So tell me, Liberty and Finn,” Mrs. Poppy said, pulling potholders out of a drawer with a smile a whole lot warmer than the one on Finn’s face, “now that the festival’s almost over, I’ll bet you two are going to miss working so closely together, aren’t you?”

“Doubt it.” Finn’s sullen response was so low, Liberty knew it was for her benefit alone.

“Believe it or not, ma’am,” Liberty said slowly, sneaking a peek Finn’s way, “I will miss working with Mr. McShane because he was always such a …”—a hint of mischief twitched on her lips—“challenge.”

“Me?” Finn leaned in to sear her with a look.

Liberty couldn’t resist a tiny smile while she nibbled the edge of her lip. “As I’m sure you already know, he can be pretty … stubborn.”

“Ha! That’s the jackass calling the donkey a mule if ever there was.”

Mrs. Poppy’s laughter floated through the air along with the smell of fresh-baked poppy-seed cake as she pulled it out of the oven. “Yes, I do believe the pastor and I can attest to seeing a bit of the mule here and there over the years.”

“Here and there?” Liberty’s brows shot high as she put a hand to her mouth to shield a giggle. “Goodness, Mrs. Poppy, when I leave our meetings, I literally fall into bed because the man plumb wears me out.”

“Uh, that would be from all your yammering, Miss O’Shea, which I can attest saps every ounce of energy I have.”

Liberty slid him a shy peek, cheeks suddenly warm. “Well, maybe not all your energy …”

“Here we go …” Potholders in hand, Mrs. Poppy delivered the cake to the table. The heavenly smell rumbled Liberty’s stomach, an unwelcome reminder she’d had no appetite at the potluck. “Hot out of the oven!” She proceeded to cut healthy pieces and slather them with glazed icing that watered Liberty’s mouth.

One bite and Liberty almost moaned, eyelids drifting closed while she savored the best cake she’d ever tasted.