by Lori Wick
“Is that when you knew you wanted to preach?”
“That came a few years later. I had learned so much as a result of those deaths that I wanted to share with all who would hear.”
“And you shared with me,” Jace smiled at him, the pitchfork going into motion again.
Douglas didn’t comment, but he was pleased. He continued his bending and lifting, gaining new appreciation for the farmwork that was done in the area and asking God not to stop with saving Jace Randall but to continue His work in all of Tucker Mills and beyond.
Reese returned home in the middle of the afternoon, ready to put her leg up, but Mrs. Greenlowe’s form bending over the worktable in the kitchen stopped her. Reese could only stare at what had once been her dress fabric.
Mrs. Greenlowe had already begun to cut and sew, and as with everything else that woman did, this was done to perfection.
“You started,” Reese stated the obvious and walked over for a closer look.
“Did you think I took your waist and arm measurements so I could make you a hat?”
Reese laughed and only shook her head. She picked up the length that would be the skirt and held it to the front of her. The warm-green floral fabric made her sigh. It had been a long time since she’d had a new dress, and never had she been allowed to choose the material.
“We won’t be able to be around you after this,” the landlady muttered. “You’ll be so pretty that you’ll preen yourself all over town.”
“I doubt that,” Reese said, the smile evident in her voice.
“You just wait,” Mrs. Greenlowe warned mischievously. “You’ll be catching some man’s eye in this dress, and before you know it, you’ll be cleaning your own house and not someone else’s.”
For a moment, Reese allowed herself to dream about falling in love with a man who loved her in return. They would live in a small house with an equally small kitchen, but it would be theirs.
“I still say you should have gone with red,” Mrs. Greenlowe had to get in.
“I’m going to put my leg up.” Reese exited on that note, not forgetting that she’d told Troy she’d be at the big house in the morning.
It took until Saturday for Reese’s leg to feel normal again and for all the swelling to go down. And when it did, she went at the big house with a vengeance. She’d dealt with meals all week, but some of the cleaning had been forced to wait. No longer.
Reese was finished with the upstairs before dinner, and as soon as the dinner dishes were dried and put away, she attacked the main-level parlors. There were two of them, one quite large and one smaller. Dust was always an issue, and Reese determined not to leave a speck in sight. She gathered up small rugs to be taken out and beaten, keeping them carefully contained until she reached the back porch, taking more care with the steps than usual.
Her mind on the dirty task ahead, along with the hymn she was humming, Reese had just touched the ground with both feet when Gerald Jenness stepped around the corner of the building.
“Gerald, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Why?” Reese put it bluntly.
“Why not?” Gerald asked, and Reese had it in her heart to feel sorry for him.
“I’m working, Gerald.” She kept her voice kind. “I can’t visit right now.”
Gerald heard the words but was nowhere near ready to leave. Indeed, he’d been so lonely for weeks now that it only just occurred to him that he could seek out Reese and not wait until he ran into her in town.
“What’s it like inside?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Do you go in all the rooms?” Gerald asked, looking as though he was going to head toward the door.
“Gerald, I have work to do.”
“I won’t get in the way.”
“You’re going to get me fired,” Reece stated, her hands coming to her waist. “You can’t be here.”
“What’s he’s like? Kingsley?”
“That is also none of your business. Now go.”
Gerald’s look became stubborn.
“You have to leave,” Reese repeated.
“You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?”
Reese’s gaze narrowed and her voice grew firm. “You’re going to be the one filled with fear if you don’t leave. I’ll chase you off with the broom.”
Gerald looked into her face and knew she meant it. And in truth, he didn’t want to get her into trouble. He opened his mouth to say he’d be back, but Reese had held her arm out, pointing him away from the house.
Gerald’s own face registered anger then. She was treating him like a child. Without another word, he stomped his way around the corner and left.
“You handled that well.”
Reese heard the softly spoken words behind her and started violently. She turned to the man whose voice didn’t match his size.
“Excuse me, sir?” Reese questioned, wondering what she had missed and if indeed she was about to be fired.
“You avoided his question about your fear of me very nicely,” Conner explained, his face open. “That was crafty. I’ll have to remember that about you.”
Eyeing him a moment, Reese asked, “Remember what exactly?”
“That you’re crafty.”
Reese thought she would be sacked at any moment, but Conner’s smile was kind, warm even, as he turned and went back inside.
Reese didn’t move for at least a minute. She’d thought she was alone; she hadn’t heard a thing. And what exactly had Conner Kingsley heard?
Turning her back on the house, she set to beating the rugs, her mind too unsettled to hum. It wouldn’t do any good to wonder. If he was going to fire her, he’d certainly let her know.
“Thanks for letting me read this,” Douglas remarked to Conner on Sunday morning when he returned the letter before services. “It’s good to hear that your niece is out of the woods.”
“Isn’t it? She’s been on my mind a lot. Dalton and Susie too,” Conner said, mentioning his sister-in-law.
“Maybe he’ll come and visit,” Douglas suggested. “I thought he hinted at that.”
Conner smiled. “A surprise visit. He’s not very subtle, is he?”
Douglas laughed and asked, “How is it going with Reese?”
Conner’s eyes got large. “She’s moved from fear to defiance. If I even look at her, that chin comes up. If I was a man spoiling for a fight, I’d know just where to go.”
“Good,” Douglas surprised him by saying.
“Why is it good?”
“Because that’s a little more normal. Reese is not afraid of much.”
“So you often find her contentious?”
“No, not really, but Reese doesn’t suffer fools lightly, and she can’t stand to be treated like one. If ever you underestimate her, you might find yourself being told where you’ve gone wrong.”
“I sure ended up in trouble over not wanting her to work this week, and she didn’t have to say a word.”
Douglas had to smile, having heard the entire account. “I understand she was at my house.”
Conner shook his head, thinking he’d been completely blind that day.
“She even made us a pie when she came back. Now is that forgiveness or not?”
It was time for Douglas to check on his family and get up front. Smiling all the while, he reached up to put a warm hand on Conner’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before moving on his way.
Troy and Conner had left laundry for Reese. Laundry was not her favorite chore—the table was always too low and her back would ache miserably. But Reese was planning to work on it as soon as she got done with the kitchen floor.
On her hands and knees, working in one corner, she was unaware of the way Troy came upon her. Just taking a short cut through that room, he stopped short.
Troy stood and looked at the hole in the bottom of Reese’s right shoe and couldn’t help but notice the lack of stockings. He could not have he
lped but notice her new dress on Sunday, but at work it was the same two dresses day after day. In fact, since the fall she’d been only in the brown dress, and Troy realized she must have ruined the other.
His shortcut forgotten, he began to back out of the room, but Reese heard him.
“Did you need something?” she asked, turning on her knees a little.
“No, just taking a shortcut.”
“Don’t slip on the wet floor,” she warned cheerfully, returning her focus to the corner.
Troy thanked her, made sure he still had the papers he’d come home for, and exited the house to walk back to the bank.
He didn’t know how, but he had to find a way to get shoes for Reese. He thought about giving her extra money for another dress as well but knew he shouldn’t push the issue.
He was going to be gone over the weekend to Linden Heights, but as soon as he next saw Alison Muldoon, he would ask her whether she had any ideas concerning shoes for Reese Thackery.
Twelve
“I made you some sandwiches for your trip,” Reese told Troy on Friday morning. The two were standing in the downstairs hall. “They’re wrapped in this cloth, along with some fruit and cookies.”
“Thank you,” Troy said, taking them from her before looking into her eyes.
“You can’t go hungry on the train,” Reese spoke softly, feeling self-conscious.
When Troy continued to stare, Reese couldn’t hold her tongue.
“What’s the matter?”
“I was going to ask you something stupid.”
“What was it?”
“I was going to ask why you haven’t married, but then I remembered your papers.”
“Mrs. Greenlowe just mentioned marriage to me,” Reese said, her voice sounding young with wonder. “I don’t know why.”
“Don’t you want to be married?”
“I don’t know if I’m the marrying kind,” Reese admitted, making herself not think about her dreams.
“Why would you say that?”
“I’m too tall, too thin, and too redheaded. It’s a not a good combination.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know,” Reese shrugged.
“Conner mentioned that a young man came to see you.”
“That was Gerald,” Reese said softly, still feeling bad for him. “He’s Mr. Jenness’ son. He’s in his teens and very lonely.”
“And you don’t want him pining after you?”
“He’s a good deal younger than I am and not a believer, so no, I don’t.”
“You’re wise to wait.”
Reese smiled a little. “I don’t think I have a choice about that.”
Troy smiled back at her and told her to enjoy the weekend.
“Don’t be afraid of Conner,” he warned her. “He won’t bite.”
Reese was able to laugh a little, finding it to be true. He wasn’t as frightening lately, and Reese didn’t really think he was out to harm her, especially since he didn’t drink. On the other hand, she didn’t know how a man that large could get around without making any noise.
“Have a good time,” Reese said.
“Thank you for the food.”
Reese didn’t move when Troy took his leave. She stood in the hall, feeling almost sad to see him go. Conner had come from the study to walk him to the door, and Reese couldn’t hear their conversation. However, she was still standing in the hall when Conner came back.
“Where is Troy’s wife?” she asked, her voice quiet and thoughtful.
“She died more than three years ago.”
Reese figured as much.
“But he’ll see his daughters this weekend?”
“Yes, and his granddaughters.”
Reese nodded, feeling happy for him.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Conner suddenly said.
Reese looked at him, a bit of her guard returning.
“What did your father do for Mr. Zantow?”
Reese looked surprised.
“I mean,” Conner clarified, “Mr. Zantow didn’t run a large business or farm. It’s hard to imagine him needing a male servant when he himself was a carpenter.”
Reese nodded. “My father spent the first six months working on the house. He was fairly handy with a hammer, and the house needed lots of repairs. After that he would go for wood and do a lot of cutting and splitting, the back-breaking type that Mr. Zantow hated.”
Reese fell quiet for a moment. “He didn’t live much longer than that, so I don’t know what he would have done all these years.”
“And did you work the whole time or only until the contract became yours?”
“I did the cooking, but I didn’t start cleaning before my papers.”
“No wonder you’re such a good cook,” Conner complimented, and Reese looked surprised again. “You see,” Conner added, “sometimes I’m not scary at all.”
Always feeling a need to leave before things grew awkward, Conner told her he’d be at the bank until dinner, gathered his satchel, and went out the front door.
“You’re showing!” Cathy Shephard exclaimed with excitement when she went to the farm to visit Maddie.
“I can’t be showing,” Maddie disagreed, looking down at herself. “It’s barely three months.”
Cathy looked again. “Maybe you’re not.”
“Wishful thinking?” Maddie suggested.
“Probably.” Cathy smiled at the thought and then looked serious. “I want to be Granny.”
Maddie frowned. “What else would you be?”
“I mean, I want to be called Granny, even though you’ve never called me Mama.”
Maddie smiled, not expecting this side of her aunt.
“And what does Doyle want to be called?”
“You’ll have to ask him. He’s excited about this but in a quiet sort of way, so he might not know what he wants.”
“Why is he quiet about it?”
“Worried about you, I expect.”
“Worried how?”
“That you won’t be all right or that the baby won’t.”
Cathy’s own penchant toward worry was surfacing at this point, and Maddie knew that Doyle was not the only one.
“I’m going to be fine,” Maddie assured her with quiet conviction. “So will the baby.”
“Well, of course you are!” Cathy retorted bracingly.
“That’s not what I mean,” Maddie pushed the point. “No matter what, whether I live or not, or even if the baby dies, we’ll be all right.”
Cathy didn’t see how that could be true, but keeping Maddie’s condition in mind, she didn’t say anything. She had carried a basket of baked goods in with her and turned to where it sat on the table.
Maddie didn’t know what to do. She hated to let the topic drop, but if Cathy didn’t want to hear, there was no point in speaking. Or was there?
The decision was taken from her. Jace had seen the wagon and had come from the yard to have dinner and say hello.
It was dinnertime at the big house in town too. Reese nearly had the food ready for the table when she heard the front door. She hurried so it would be ready and waiting, but Conner beat her to the door. Filling the door frame that led from the hallway, he stood, a paper in his hand. Reese froze, fingers still holding the serving dishes, and stared at him.
“Charisse V. Thackery,” he read, his voice curious. “What does the V stand for?”
Instantly Reese’s look became stubborn, and she remained mute. Conner, however, was not put off. Readying for the challenge, his brows rose, and he leaned against the frame as if he had all day.
“Victoria?” Conner detected a small shake of Reese’s head, but she didn’t make a sound.
“Virginia?” he tried.
Another shake of the head told him he was wrong.
“Valerie?”
“No. I have work to do,” Reese reported, effectively closing the conversation and moving to put food on the table. Conner watc
hed her go back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen but didn’t get in her way or interrupt. But as usual he was thinking. I’ll find out.
Victor Jenness stood outside the bank window in the dark shadows of the building, furious with himself that he’d forgotten his keys. It was equally dark inside, but still his eyes were just beginning to catch something new. Squinting toward the alcove, he realized the furniture had been moved around.
His heart beating painfully, he felt his entire frame flush with heat as fresh anger filled him. This was his bank! They had no right to come in and interfere in this way.
Victor had planned to sneak back to his own home, check on Gerald and his wife, and then swear them to secrecy, but he didn’t know right now if he could control himself. Slipping even deeper into the shadows, this time behind the bank, Victor stood to catch his breath and try to figure out his next move.
Conner was weary, and the house was still. He’d given almost no thought to Troy being away for the weekend but now realized the house was very quiet without him. After those first few days of adjusting to the memories and being back after so many years, Conner had weathered the transition very well.
But not tonight. Tonight it seemed he saw his favorite sister everywhere he looked. She had died when he was 12, and Conner’s last memories of her had been here, enjoying their grandmother together, and feeling as though they could stay forever.
Reese had already left for the day, or Conner might have sought her out just to get his mind from the thoughts crowding in. If only he could keep his mind on the time in the house and not the coach ride that followed.
Conner’s temple began to throb. He wondered if reading his Bible for a while might be the answer. Conner hoped that studying God’s Word and getting to sleep early would remedy the situation.
Reese let herself in the side door, already thinking about what she would prepare for breakfast and dinner. With Troy missing, she would adjust the amount some, but not by much. Conner could eat at least twice what she could consume and never look as though he’d fallen into gluttony.