Bachelor's Puzzle

by Judith Pella

  “Now, Ellie, you know we’re not papists, and I do not require confession from you,” he responded lightly.

  “It’s not that kind of confession . . . not really. But the more I see you and get to know you, the more I feel it is wrong to deceive you.”

  Zack squirmed uncomfortably on the rail. This genteel, innocent young woman could hardly have a deceptive bone in her lovely body. He almost wished she did and that she was trying to dupe him in some way. Then he’d feel less guilty about his own dishonesty.

  “I can’t imagine you deceiving anyone, Ellie,” he said.

  “It isn’t just me, it’s—I’ll make myself very unpopular around here for telling you, but I should tell you, shouldn’t I ? Even if others would be upset.”

  “You must follow your conscience.”

  “I think it’s the right thing to do.” She let go of her work and clasped her hands together. She still seemed hesitant as she went on. “When we learned we were getting an unmarried minister, well, many of the ladies hoped that he . . . that is, you . . . might look upon one of the unmarried young women in our community in a particularly . . . well, favorable way.”

  He tried to look appropriately shocked. “You mean they hoped to win my affections?”

  “Yes, with a mind, of course, toward . . .” She sucked in a breath before saying the final word, “ . . . matrimony!”

  “They hoped I would choose one of the local women for my wife?”

  “Yes, Reverend!” Her pretty features contorted with anguish. “I hope you can forgive them.I believe their hearts were pure in this. Most felt you would eventually marry someone, so why not one of them?”

  “Which ladies, might I ask?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Every unmarried lady in Maintown?”

  “Probably in the entire county!”

  “Except for you?”

  “I . . . well . . .” She wrung her hands and shifted in her chair, rocking faster and faster as she did so. “Perhaps even I for a time.”

  “So all you dear Christian women were scheming and plotting after me?”

  “Oh, you must think us horrible and evil!”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at her sternly for a moment, just long enough to get the most out of her discomfiture. She probably didn’t deserve him toying with her so, but he sensed she was a bit full of herself and might just need to be cut down a notch or two. Perhaps it was a little payback to all women for those, most recently Darla, who had hurt him.

  Finally he laughed, not cruelly but as good-naturedly as he could.

  “You are not angry?” she asked.

  “Nor am I completely without a clue. We even had a class in seminary about husband-hunting parishioners.”

  “A class?” Suddenly she knew he was teasing. “You did not! But I deserve your taunts for having any part in this at all.”

  “Maybe you do a little. But at least you eschewed the hunt. Probably because you decided you didn’t like me—”

  “I do not dislike you!” she exclaimed.

  “You’re sure?” He mocked her, but gently.

  “If you keep teasing me,I may change my mind.” She smiled smugly.

  He chuckled. “Well said!”

  “But, Reverend,” she said, becoming serious again, “what will you do about this situation?”

  “I suppose . . . I ’ll let God’s will be done!” Slowly he was learning this religious business. He was pleased with his answer.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I’ve enjoyed our conversation, Ellie,” he said. “Now I best take my leave so I can prepare for my journey. First,I should like to bid your sister good day, as well.”

  “She is in the garden. Go that way to the back of the house.” She lifted a hand to point the way.

  Ellie watched the minister walk away. She could not help wondering if there was a connection between his declaration of doing God’s will and then immediately seeking out Maggie.

  Could he be sweet on her?

  Why not? She was pretty and fun loving. Mama always said that once the boys realized Maggie was a girl, that is, once she let them realize it, they would be after her in droves.

  But ReverendLocklin?

  Ellie felt a pang in her stomach. Maybe it was jealousy. But it was her own fault. She had given up the . . . what was it? Competition? Anyway, she had backed off by her own will.

  Did she now regret it?

  ReverendL ocklin was unlike any minister she had ever known. Granted, the ones she had known had all been older family men. ReverendL ocklin—William—was only a few years older than she. He teased her and jested with her. I t was almost as if he was flirting. Oh, surely not! Even young ministers did not flirt! But more unsettling than that—she had enjoyed it. She liked his easy laughter and the glint in his eyes when he made fun of her.

  Her stomach had been in terrible flutters throughout their entire conversation.

  She was glad he was taking off on his circuit soon, for if not, she’d be tempted to find some excuse to go see him. To present him with another dish of cookies, perhaps, or to loan him a book she enjoyed, or to get more of his clothing for alterations. She would be as shameless as Mabel and I ris and even Maggie.

  She considered the minister’s words: “Let God’s will be done.” That’s what she wanted to do more than anything. But did it mean to hide in a corner and do nothing? That was a question she’d normally ask her pastor, if he hadn’t been the one to prompt it in the first place.

  TWELVE

  The next Sunday the Sewing Circle met at the schoolhouse.

  This time Polly Briggs’s quilt was spread out on the frame. She had finally finished her daughter’s wedding quilt.

  “I suppose the arrival of the new pastor spurred me on,” she said.

  “So when is the big day?” Mary Renolds asked.

  “Claudia has her heart set on the first Sunday in July.”

  “That’s just three weeks away.”

  “Have you spoken to Reverend L ocklin yet?” asked Emma Jean Stoddard. “He hasn’t mentioned anything about it.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I would get everything done in time,” Polly said. “I just finished the quilt, but that wasn’t as important as Claudia’s dress, which she simply couldn’t decide on. We went to St. Helens last week, and she finally chose a pattern and material, but by then the reverend had already departed on his circuit. But I can see no problem. He’ll be here on that Sunday.”

  “What’s the dress like, Polly?” Ada asked.

  “It is a pattern similar to a gown we saw in Godey’s.I t has a fitted bodice that goes a few inches below the waist with twenty crochet-covered buttons down the front. The overskirt drapes across the front, and the underskirt is flounced and shirred—”

  “Yes, I believe I saw it, as well, in the magazine,” Mary said. “Very elegant.”

  “What material will you use?” Florence Parker asked.

  “There wasn’t time to order anything from Portland,” Polly said regretfully, “but the St. Helens mercantile had some lovely lawn.Lace and ribbon will dress it up.”

  “I have already purchased several lengths of silk for my daughter’s wedding,” Emma Jean said. “I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”

  A few brows arched at this. Most believed Sarah Stoddard would never marry. And the comment didn’t make poor Polly feel any better, either, since her daughter had been engaged six months ago and there should have been plenty of time to order something else. Nevertheless, Ada did not want to mention that she also had stored away enough silk to make a wedding gown for one of her daughters, the first to marry.I t might just bring up the situation with the minister, and Ada didn’t wish to dwell upon it. Ada was disappointed that Ellie seemed to have no interest in the minister. She had done everything she could and certainly couldn’t force Ellie to woo the reverend. But Ada didn’t see why her daughter felt as she did.

  Jane Donnelly, in her usually
kind way, offered to Polly, “I’m sure the trims will add an elegant touch.” She was always diplomatic.

  Ada had noticed that Jane had been especially quiet today. Once or twice when she first arrived, it had almost seemed as if she was on the verge of tears. Ada had wanted to ask her what was wrong but had curbed her curiosity. She knew Jane would have been mortified if she had broken down in public, even among her closest friends.

  “Your fingers are going to be raw before the month is out,” Ada said to Polly. “But your quilt is wonderful.I t is one of the nicest basket quilts I have seen.”

  The basket blocks were set on point, alternating with plain white squares, while the basket itself was made of several small triangles with a curved handle. Each was of a different fabric with a white as the background.

  “Claudia requested baskets,” Polly said.

  Polly had already marked the plain white squares with a feathered wreath pattern. She said the baskets could be outline stitched. Everyone found their places around the frame. The ladies worked together like a well-oiled machine. Stitches were small and uniform; even Mary’s were nice despite her failing vision and arthritic fingers.

  When the part showing on the frame was finished, Emma Jean said, “Shall we roll?” and a new section of quilt was rolled into view. The nine expert quilters would finish the quilt that day. Their work was not slowed or compromised by their steady stream of conversation.

  They talked about their children and grandchildren, for those fortunate enough to have them. They shared recipe ideas or cleaning hints. They talked about mutual friends and relatives who were not in the Circle, and they steadfastly refused to call this “gossip.” But by far the main topic of conversation this meeting was the new minister. They all had mostly good to say, although there was some criticism about his inexperience.

  The subject of the minister prompted Ada to mention a somewhat related topic, though she was careful not to make it appear related.

  “I’ve been wondering about something,” Ada began casually. “Ellie has shown an interest in joining the Sewing Circle. I know we’ve talked before regarding our daughters, and there never was a consensus. But several of the girls are older now. . . .” She let her words trail away, encouraging comments from the others.

  “I still worry that the quality of our work will suffer if we invite the inexperienced,” said Florence. “Not all the girls are as proficient as your Ellie or my Mabel.”

  Ada tried not to wince at the implication, but she knew Florence was referring to Maggie.I nstead she decided, for Ellie’s sake, to meet the problem head-on. “I can assure everyone that Maggie has absolutely no interest in joining this group.”

  Chuckles rippled around the frame, and there could be no doubt they had all been thinking of the problem of Maggie.

  “That is not the only problem with the suggestion,” Emma Jean said. “We determined from the beginning that the group would be open only to married women.”

  “This Circle could be a wonderful opportunity for the young unmarried women to learn from us,” Jane said. “Not only quilting but about being good wives and mothers.”

  “Would you want someone to be learning on your quilt?” Florence asked. “Do you want a quilt full of toenail catchers?”

  If it had been anyone else protesting, Ada might have just laughed it off. She knew better than any that Maggie’s quilt stitches were indeed big enough to catch a toenail. But it rankled that the protest came from Florence. She was certain her words were pointed against Ada and her daughters.

  Just to be ornery, Ada said, “So it would be fine if an inexperienced married woman wanted to join?”

  “It seems to me it should be,” Jane said, loyal friend that she was.

  “There should be some way to assure quality,” Florence insisted.

  “Maybe we should test everyone with an interest to join,” suggested Polly quite seriously.

  “I know I would have failed such a test when I joined you two years ago,” Louise said.

  “And look at your work now!” said Jane triumphantly.

  Indeed, L ouise, at only twenty-five, had done rather rough work at first, but even in the beginning it had been far better than Maggie’s.

  “Girls should be learning to quilt at home, not here,” Polly said.

  Hilda agreed. Ada saw the group splitting on the issue: Florence, Polly, and Hilda against opening up to younger members; Ada, Jane, and L ouise clearly on the other side. But Ada had seen old Mary Renolds nodding in response to comments made by Ada’s side.

  “That is a very good point, Polly,” Emma Jean said, taking her stand with Florence and the others. “Also, we don’t have enough space around the frame as it is.”

  “No one seems to mind taking turns,” Ada responded.

  Nessa had not weighed in with any definite opinion. Ada hated to put shy Nessa on the spot, but she happened to know that her daughter Kendra, who was all but engaged to Boyd, also had an interest in joining the Circle. No doubt Nessa had remained silent not only because of her shyness but because Florence was a good friend of hers.

  “Nessa, what do you think?” Ada asked.

  Nessa’s cheeks pinked as all eyes swung toward her, but she didn’t shrink away. “Well, none of us is getting any younger, you know. . . .” Her eyes flickered toward Florence before she continued in an apologetic tone, “Well, we’re not! New blood couldn’t hurt.”

  “We could be selective,” Louise said. “By invitation only.”

  “And deal with the hurt feelings of those who feel left out?” Florence asked.

  “I didn’t think of that.”Louise backed down.

  “Ladies,” said Emma Jean, “if I remember right, this is where this same discussion left off two years ago. We all came together quite naturally because of our mutual love of stitching. That was a good ten years ago, wasn’t it? There were ten of us then, but Betsy and Margaret passed on, and that’s when L ouise filled one of the empty places. Nine has been a good number.”

  “So someone has to die before someone new can join?” snapped Ada.

  “I’ll accommodate you soon enough,” Mary said with a chuckle.

  “You have taught me so much, Mary,” Ada said. “I wish my daughter could learn from you, as well.I sn’t one of the purposes of a group such as ours to spread our passion for stitching to others? We have done just that, with several young women now showing the same passion. Yet they are closed from joining us.” Ada couldn’t help if her voice trembled a little as she spoke, for even as the words came she realized how much this truly meant to her. At one time she thought the Sewing Circle was her little escape from home, a time for herself. But now she realized what a joy it would be to have her daughters involved.

  “There is no need to get emotional,” Emma Jean said.

  “I’m sorry,” Ada replied, not meaning it but trying to make peace.

  “I suggest that we table this issue for a bit,” Emma Jean went on, sounding very presidential. “Let’s take a few weeks to think about it, and we can discuss it later.”

  Much later, Ada thought sourly, probably never. Florence would see to that, especially since Mabel, as good a stitcher as she was, had no interest in the Circle. She was far too sophisticated for a simple country quilting bee.

  Ada was quiet the rest of the afternoon. She ate little of the midday meal she had brought in Maggie’s old lunch pail. She was even silent about another topic of business she had wanted to mention. The quilting bee at her home to finish the pastor’s quilt had been so successful that many of the women had talked about making that a regular feature of the Circle, that is, to have two meetings a month, one on the second Sunday at the schoolhouse as always, and another at a home on a weekday.I t would be a way Ellie could attend when it was at their house simply because she was home. But Ada was afraid if she brought that up now, it would be put down by Florence and her cronies just for general purposes. She decided to wait to mention it until it had a better chance of
succeeding.

  When it was time to leave, Ada saw that Jane’s husband had not arrived to pick her up.

  “Where’s Tom?” she asked.

  “Oh, I walked today,” Jane said a little hesitantly, as if she didn’t want to admit it.

  “Well, then, ride with me. We haven’t had a chance to visit for a long time.”

  Jane climbed up next to Ada in the wagon seat, and they started up the road.I t was as fine a spring day as one could hope for in these parts. Blue sky, warm sun upon the skin, gentle breeze, sweet fragrances of new growth in the air.

  “I’m still fuming over that Florence Parker!” Jane said.

  “Sometimes I think she takes the opposite side of you just to be contrary.”

  “That’s not the only reason,” Ada said.

  “I know you two have a past, but that was years ago when you were girls.”

  No one knew the whole story behind Ada and Florence’s rivalry. Jane knew a lot but not all, and Ada wanted to keep it that way. I t would do no one any good to dredge up the past. Ada had prayed about it and tried to find peace about it, at least with God, but she doubted there would ever be peace between her and Florence. Once she had tried to confront Florence, but she had refused to talk about it, practically denying there was anything wrong in the first place.I gnoring it was probably for the best.

  “For a while during the discussion today,” Ada said, “I toyed with the idea of starting another sewing circle. But I just can’t do that. We have our differences, but there is still a deep bond of friendship between us all. And such a split might even cause a split in the church. That would be disastrous.”

  “Maybe the young girls should start their own group.”

  “I fear that would be just as divisive.”

  “At least you don’t need the group to share your love of stitching with your daughters,” offered Jane. “How I wish I ’d had a daughter—” Her voice broke off suddenly. Ada glanced over at her friend and saw her dash a hand against the corner of her eye.