“You did good, Nate,” Jenny said.
“Thanks.”
Jesse grinned. “My hat was almost too big for you. Good thing Mantie stuffed that handkerchief inside it to make it fit better.” Nate colored.
“Here.” Jesse held out the collar. “You should have part of this costume since we shared it.”
Pleasure followed surprise on Nate’s wide face. “You mean it?” He took the collar before Jesse could reply.
“Don’t think that collar will fit beneath your jacket,” Lane said. “Why don’t you let me hold it while you get ready to go?”
Nate handed it over with obvious reluctance.
“Say,” Jesse started, “a bunch of us boys are going skating down by the mill. Do you want to come, Nate?”
“I don’t have any skate blades.”
“That’s all right. Come anyway. Lots of the kids don’t have skates. It’s just as much fun to slide around in your boots and pretend you’re skating.”
“It’s too early for the ice to be hard enough to skate on the river yet.” The very thought of the children out on the ice tightened the muscles in Lane’s stomach.
“But winter’s been here forever,” Jesse protested.
Lane grinned. “It just seems like forever. I don’t think it’s been cold enough for the ice to be safe.”
“Mr. Powell is right,” Mantie agreed.
Jesse screwed his face into a scowl. “Aw, Mantie.”
She shook her head. “You must stay off the river.”
“Why don’t you go sledding instead? If you do that, I promise to check the ice every day and let you know when it’s safe for skating,” Lane promised.
Jesse’s scowl deepened. “I don’t have a sled.”
“I do,” Nate piped up.
Jesse looked at Nate. “That all right with you?”
“Sure. I have a toboggan.”
“Oh, will you let me ride on it?” Jenny’s eyes were wide with eagerness.
Nate glanced from her to Jesse. “I thought only boys were going.”
Jenny groaned. “Mantie, make them let me play.”
“Why don’t you see if you can talk some of the other girls into going with you?” Mantie suggested.
The corners of Jenny’s lips drooped, but she didn’t protest.
The children moved away, Jenny to look for a playmate, the boys to retrieve Nate’s jacket from the other end of the cloakroom.
Lane smiled at Mantie. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making Nate feel welcome here.”
“I think Jesse is the one making him feel welcome.”
“It isn’t only Jesse.” As he spoke the words, Lane ruefully thought, I wouldn’t mind if Miss Mantie Clark went out of her way to make me feel more welcome here, too.
Chapter 4
Mantie bowed her head slightly to the slender man with the long, narrow black beard. “Good Sunday to you, Reverend.”
“And to you, Miss Clark.”
She slid her gloved hands into her fur muff and followed Alice through the schoolhouse door and down the wooden steps, moving cautiously. The steps were swept free of snow, but they were still slippery. Safe after the last step, she allowed herself to look up and drink in the beauty around her.
When they’d arrived for the church service, fog had covered the ground like a shade drawn tight down against the night. Now it was lifting, leaving behind bare tree limbs and pine trees encased in ice. Horses, blanketed against the cold, their white breath blending into the white landscape, waited at white wooden hitching posts.
“Morning, Mrs. Clark, Miss Clark.” Lane Powell’s greeting pulled Mantie from her reverie. A gentle smile reflected from the gray eyes that met her gaze.
Beside him stood Abe, whom Mantie remembered from the Thanksgiving dinner. Lane quickly introduced his friend to Alice.
To Mantie’s surprise, Alice responded with bright enthusiasm. “Mr. Newsome, I’m pleasured to meet you. My husband told me he’d met you. Won’t you join us for dinner today along with Lane?”
Abe shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Thank you for the invitation, Ma’am, but I won’t be able to make it. One of the farmers who came to church this morning needs new shoes for his horses.” His voice wasn’t loud and booming as Mantie had expected. There was a rumble to it, to be sure, but the voice was quiet and unassuming.
“Surely he doesn’t expect you to work on the Lord’s Day.” Alice sounded shocked.
“I hate to ask him to make an extra trip into town, Ma’am. Hate more to let a horse go longer than necessary without proper shoeing. Don’t expect the Lord minds much when our work relieves a bit of pain for another, even if the other is an animal.”
Mantie wasn’t sure whether the reverend would agree, but she liked Abe Newsome’s consideration for a creature’s pain.
“You’ll be wanting to put the horses in the livery stable, I expect,” Lane said. “Feel free to do so.”
Abe nodded. “Hooves need to warm up before shoeing after being out in weather like this. Always hate to shoe horses in winter.”
Mantie suspected from Abe’s demeanor that he was glad for an excuse to avoid the dinner. But why? Most bachelors jumped at the chance for a meal cooked by a woman and leaped faster when it meant spending time in the presence of an unmarried woman such as herself. Curious, she watched Abe as he lumbered across the snow toward a farmer who stood beside a wagon set on runners.
Walter stopped beside them, only to lead Lane away to introduce him to the local banker.
As soon as the men were out of earshot, Mantie turned to Alice. “So that’s why you swept pine needles over the parlor carpet this morning. You invited the town’s newest bachelors to dinner without telling me. How could you?”
“Walter and I want to make them feel welcome here.” The twinkle in Alice’s eyes confessed the incompleteness of her answer.
The Clarks hadn’t ridden to church. As the little group started home, Jenny, Jesse, and Nate ran ahead. Walter and Alice walked together, so Mantie hadn’t a polite reason to refuse when Lane Powell fell into step beside her. To her relief, he kept their conversation friendly but impersonal, asking many questions about the young town.
The stone bridge near the mill was slippery. His gloved fingers touched her elbow as they crossed, ready to support her if needed, but he removed them when the river was behind them. Mantie knew from experience that a number of the bachelors in town would not have acted in such a gentlemanly manner. She appreciated both his concern for her and his restraint.
“Walter, do go build a fire in the parlor stove,” Alice insisted as soon as they entered the house. “We’ll want it warm and cozy for visiting after dinner.”
Alice had prepared a pot roast early that morning before church. Though she’d made sure the fire was no longer burning when the family left for the service, she’d left the roast and vegetables warming in the oven while the family was gone.
As Mantie and Alice completed the meal preparations, the men visited in the kitchen because the parlor wasn’t yet warm. Mantie made sure Jesse sat between her and Lane during the meal, frustrating Alice’s plans. Alice wrinkled her nose at Mantie as their gazes met across the table.
Everyone welcomed the raisin pie Mantie had made the night before. The children gobbled up their portions, in spite of Alice’s gentle reprimands to eat slowly, and were done before the more manner-conscious adults.
“Can we go outside and play?” Jesse asked eagerly as soon as he swallowed the last bite of piecrust.
Mantie touched the tip of her napkin to her lips before replying. “We have company, Jesse.”
Jesse clasped his hands in his lap and pressed his lips together. Mantie could barely keep a smile from forming. The energy of youth is so difficult to contain, she thought.
Jenny sought Lane’s expertise. “Do you think the ice is ready for skating?”
“It looks pretty thick to me.” Jesse’s voice held only
a small waver of doubt as he looked at Lane for confirmation.
“Well, I don’t know.” Lane methodically folded his napkin and laid it beside his plate, the children squirming all the while. He rubbed his chin with his index finger. “Rivers don’t usually freeze hard enough for skating before Christmas. Might be you’ll need to wait until then.”
A groan rose from the three children.
A grin burst across Lane’s face. “I spoke with the local ice cutter yesterday. He says the ice is plenty thick for skating as long as you stay a safe distance from the dam.”
“Yeah!” Jesse’s chair scraped across the wooden floor as he pushed back from the table. Jenny and Nathan followed suit.
“Did anyone say you could leave the table?” Alice asked.
Jesse’s excitement dropped from his face, replaced by disbelief. “But …”
Walter rested his hand on Alice’s. “Won’t harm any great world plan to let them leave the table early this once, will it?”
Mantie’s stomach turned over at the sweet smile he gave his wife and the way Alice easily capitulated to him. Mantie touched the locket at the neck of her gray wool gown. She and Colin would never again share tender glances.
The children noisily donned their coats. Jenny and Jesse hurried to their rooms to retrieve their skate blades.
Alice smiled at Walter. “Why don’t you and Lane visit in the parlor while Mantie and I clean up the kitchen?”
Lane looked a little uncomfortable. “I hate to appear unappreciative, but I’d like to head to the river with the children. It being Nate’s first time there, I’d like to check it out.”
“But I thought the ice cutter said the ice is fine,” Alice protested.
Mantie allowed herself a small smile. It appeared Alice’s attempt to bring Lane and Mantie together for the afternoon was crumbling, and this time Mantie wasn’t the one avoiding the situation.
“I trust the ice cutter’s knowledge,” Lane said. “After all, he knows how thick the ice is. Still, I’d feel safer if I were there this first time. I can check out some of the areas where the current might make the ice thinner and warn Nate and the others to stay away from unsafe spots.”
“Why don’t we all go?” Walter looked from Alice to Mantie.
“We don’t have skates,” Alice protested.
Mantie suspected her sister-in-law was thinking more of the defeat of her matchmaking plans than of her lack of skates. Outside in the snow and cold, with Lane’s attention on the children, the atmosphere would not be as conducive to budding romance as it would be in the parlor.
“It might be fun to watch the children,” Mantie said. “And now that the fog’s lifted, it’s beautiful out.”
Alice conceded with an exaggerated sigh. “All right.”
Mantie smiled. She truly liked her sister-in-law. Alice was beautiful, animated, and very good for Walter. In the past she’d honored Mantie’s desire to avoid encouraging the town’s single men. She hoped Alice’s broken plans would discourage her from trying again.
By the time the adults left the house, the children were out of sight. Their laughter drifted back along the road to the river.
Tall jack pines covered the hills. Their greenery was still encased in shimmering ice, as were the winter-barren limbs of deciduous trees. With the brilliant blue sky for a background, the ice-encrusted trees reminded Mantie of the ivory cameo set against blue.
When the group rounded a bend in the tree-lined road, Mantie could see the stone bridge spanning the river at the bottom of the hill. On one side of the bridge stood the mill, its wheel frozen into the millpond ice. Bright scarves and mittens highlighted the more muted colors of jackets as boys moved about on the ice, shovels and brooms pushing back the snow. The sound of metal scraping ice drifted up the hillside alongside children’s calling voices.
When they reached the riverbank, Lane scanned the area. “It seems they’ve selected a good spot.” He and Walter went out on the ice, stopping every few yards to sweep away snow and check the ice for cracks and depth.
When the men returned, Lane said, “The ice looks good here.”
Walter agreed. “Think I’ll gather some wood and start a small fire up on the bank. The kids will want to warm up after a bit.”
Already the children were setting aside their shovels and brooms and fastening the leather straps of their skate blades over their boots.
Lane reached his hand out toward Mantie. “Would you like to check out the ice along the river’s edge with me, Miss Clark? Just for a short ways. We can count on some of the kids wandering. Too tempting to check out what’s around the bend.”
Mantie hesitated, then removed one of her gloved hands from her muff and allowed him to clasp it. Footing could be tricky on the uneven ground along the riverbank.
As she and Lane started down the bank, she caught Alice’s triumphant look. Frustration squiggled through Mantie. Alice obviously thought her attempt to push Lane into Mantie’s life was progressing in spite of the change in plans.
Around the bend the noise of children’s laughter and skates against ice diminished. Soon the quiet of the woods surrounded Mantie and Lane. He stopped and looked up at the jack pines towering above them, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I love the silence of snow-covered woods in winter.”
“I do, too.” She spoke softly, as he had, not wanting to disturb the peace that filled the forest.
He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Hard to believe Peace is such a short distance away.” He pointed at a snow-shrouded bush beside the river. “Look.”
A rabbit quivered beneath the branches, its nose twitching.
Together, they watched it for a few minutes. Finally they proceeded with their duty, and the hare raced across the ice and into the woods above the opposite shore.
Lane pointed out tracks of deer, raccoons, squirrels, foxes, and wolves. “The deer are the road builders in winter.”
“What do you mean?”
“They make paths in the snow that shorter-legged creatures follow.”
Mantie’s gaze slid along one of the snow paths from the river’s edge until she lost sight of it up the hill. “God must provide path makers for us when we need them, too.”
“I expect He does.” The smile in his eyes told her he liked her thought.
“I think we don’t always recognize our path makers or the paths.”
For a few moments he studied the path he’d shown her. “Maybe we don’t recognize them because they don’t look the way we expect.”
When they’d checked the ice along the bank far enough to satisfy Lane, he tested the ice farther out himself before allowing Mantie to cross with him to the opposite side. They followed the bank back in the direction of the skaters.
She wondered what Alice was thinking. A quizzing regarding the time spent out of sight of the others likely lay ahead this evening. What would Alice think when she discovered Lane had spent the time pointing out animal life and their habits instead of romancing her? The thought brought a smile.
Alice’s plan to treat the blacksmith to dinner had failed, too. “I’m sorry your friend wasn’t able to join us today.”
“Abe?”
“Yes. It was kind of him to help out the farmer on a Sunday.” She smiled. “Most of the single men in town beg and cajole for an invitation to a dinner made by a woman.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Not Abe. He avoids women like they carried the plague.”
“Why?” She snatched back her curiosity. “I’m sorry. It’s not my affair.”
They walked on for a few more steps. She was surprised when Lane spoke, answering her question.
“Women never seem to care for Abe. Maybe his size intimidates them. Or they don’t like the smell of the forge that hangs about him or the soot beneath his nails. Maybe they don’t think a blacksmith is gentlemanly enough for them. Or maybe it’s that he’s a bit shy around them. Whatever the reason, they don’t like him. Rather, they don’t
give themselves a chance to find out if they might like him.”
“I suppose some women might be put off by the appearance of a man like Mr. Newsome.”
Lane grunted.
“I’d like to think,” she continued, “that most women would get to know him before deciding he is undesirable. He’s obviously a hardworking, responsible man. Since he’s your friend, you must recognize other good attributes in him. In the end, it’s a man’s heart that’s important.”
Lane stopped and turned to face her. His gaze searched her eyes.
She gave a nervous laugh. “What?”
“I’ve been warned that you don’t allow any man to court you.”
Embarrassment surged over her. Did that mean he’d asked about her? Did he want to court her? She pulled her gaze away and began walking. “I can’t see what that has to do with Mr. Newsome.”
He fell into step beside her. “I thought since you have the same aversion to romance, you might understand Abe better than most.”
“Are you trying to play matchmaker, Mr. Powell?” First Alice and now this man who’d been a stranger only a few days ago. Really, it was more than a woman should need to bear.
“Not for Abe, Miss Clark. Not for Abe.”
The laughter in his voice spurred her to increase her pace. She focused her attention on the bend just ahead. Her foot struck something and she stumbled. “Oh!”
Lane grabbed her arm with one hand and grasped her about the waist with his other. “Steady there.”
“I’m quite all right.” She pulled away from him.
He kicked at the snow where she’d stumbled. “Here’s your culprit. A twig caught in the ice.”
She started again toward the bend.
“Miss Clark, I apologize.” His hand at her elbow urged her to stop. “It wasn’t my intention to insult you.”
She lifted her chin and looked him directly in the eye. “If I don’t want to court and marry, it’s no one’s business but my own.”
“You’re right.”
His quick agreement only incited her anger. “If you must know, I loved someone once. He died.”
Tracie Peterson, Tracey V. Bateman, Pamela Griffin, JoAnn A. Grote Page 16