The Song Weaver

by BJ Hoff

  Matthew was studying him with an unnerving expression. “Why would you do this?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Well, I hardly think you need any more work to do. It’s always been my impression that you have more than enough to do as it is. So why would you undertake yet another project?”

  “Matthew, it’s just as I said. I honestly believe it would be good for the men and, eventually, for the town. It’s been a difficult year, what with the cave-in, the bad weather’s toll on the work at the mine, and the sickness that’s set in among some of the families. I’ve seen the benefits of music in my own life and in the lives of others. There’s nothing quite like it to lift the heart. In some cases it’s actually a tool of healing.”

  The older man stroked his chin. “So how would this work, then? We’d have to sing in public, would we?”

  “Well, eventually I hope the men would agree to that, yes. But not until we’ve had plenty of rehearsal time together.”

  “This would be only for the miners?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “No, it would be open to any man who has a mind to sing. But most of the men in town are miners, so that’s why I’d concentrate on music that’s agreeable to them.” He paused. “So what do you think? Will they give it a try? Will you?”

  His father-in-law fixed a measuring stare on him. “I have to tell you, Jonathan, you’re right about the idea being a bit far-fetched.”

  Jonathan’s hopes took another tumble. If Matthew wouldn’t participate, he wasn’t likely to get the other miners involved. “Yes, I suppose that’s a fair judgment, but—”

  Matthew lifted a hand to wave off the interruption. “But even I can see that the men—the miners in particular—could use something to break the monotony of their days. And as it happens, they’re a singing bunch.”

  “I know! I’ve heard them on their way to and from work, and, frankly, I’ve heard some very good, strong voices.”

  A thoughtful look settled over the older man. “Not all of them will do it, mind.”

  “But you think some will?”

  Matthew shrugged. “Perhaps. One thing, they’re drawn to music. You’ve seen them at the square on Friday nights when some of the lads are playing their fiddles.” He stopped. “But when would we manage to get the lot of us together? The men are bone-tired after a day’s work, Jonathan. And those on the night shift have to sleep during the day.”

  Jonathan had forgotten about the extra shift. That complicated things. But it didn’t necessarily make an impossible situation.

  “Do you think they’d be willing to take an extra hour on a late Sunday afternoon or early evening?”

  Matthew’s answer was slow in coming. “Possibly,” he finally said.

  “Will you help me with this, Matthew?”

  “You want me to talk to some of the men, I expect.”

  “I think your influence is the only way I’ll ever get them interested. They respect you. If they find out you’re going to take part, they’ll be far more likely to sign on.”

  The other narrowed his eyes. “And if it turns out to be a colossal failure, I’ll never be hearing the end of it.” He eased his shoulders a bit and added, “We wouldn’t have to wear any funny suits or anything, would we?”

  “Funny—oh, no! No, absolutely no.”

  Matthew stifled a yawn and then dropped his hand away. “Did Maggie put you up to this?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “No, the blame’s all mine. She’s not completely convinced it will work.” When Matthew again arched an eyebrow, he hurried to add, “But she thinks it has a credible chance if you take part.”

  They heard the sound of Maggie and her mother coming up on the porch. “Well, then,” Matthew said, “I’ll get back to you after I talk with some of the men. We’ll see what happens.”

  Jonathan thanked him, already impatient to get started. He had great faith in Matthew’s influence over his fellow miners.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Old Friends and New

  Did you know you were brave,

  Did you know you were strong?

  Did you know there was one leaning hard?

  Did you know that I waited and listened and prayed,

  And was cheered by your simplest word?

  Did you know that I longed for that smile on your face,

  For the sound of your voice ringing true?

  Did you know I grew stronger and better

  Because I had merely touched shoulders with you?

  Author unknown

  Maggie tried to ignore the covert glances Jonathan kept shooting her way in the kitchen where he was helping her put the finishing touches on supper. If she weren’t so impatient with him, she might have been amused. He could hardly be more obvious. Clearly he was wondering how seeing Kenny this evening was going to affect her.

  A sigh escaped before she could stop it.

  Jonathan turned from the counter to look at her. “Something wrong?”

  She almost told him what was wrong and at the same time was tempted to tell him that as happy as she would be to see her old childhood friend again, she was even happier to hear that he had a wife. As far as she was concerned, Kenny deserved nothing but the best, and she hoped his marriage was as perfect as she considered her own to be.

  Instead, she kept her silence. If she didn’t know him better, she would have thought Jonathan was feeling insecure. But that was entirely absurd. He was the most self-contained, steady, purposeful man she had ever known. What did he have to feel insecure about? Certainly not her feelings for him! As if there were a man anywhere who could hold a candle to him. As if an old pal from the past, even a childhood friend and high school beau, could earn so much as a second thought from her now that she was a married woman—and married to the man she’d loved practically all her life. As if she could take her mind off Jonathan Stuart long enough to even notice another man, whoever he happened to be.

  He was watching her closely now, no doubt waiting for an answer to his question.

  All right then. She’d give him an answer, albeit an evasive one. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just want everything to be perfect for supper. And I’m not the best cook in the world, as you already know.”

  “Everything will be fine,” he said. “And there’s absolutely nothing whatsoever wrong with your cooking.”

  A bark from Figaro outside the back door sounded as if the big hound was adding his own approval.

  Jonathan had a spot of flour on his cheek, and Maggie reached to dab it off. Then she brushed a quick kiss on the same place.

  His eyes lighted. “What was that for?”

  Maggie went back to stirring the gravy. “I don’t expect I need a reason to kiss my husband.”

  “You’re not getting off that easily.” He tossed his towel on the counter and circled her waist from behind.

  Maggie deliberated another moment before turning to face him. She allowed him a kiss before stepping back to look at him. “Jonathan, would you please tell me what’s going on?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Maggie reached for his hand. “Whether you realize it or not, ever since we invited Kenny and his wife to supper tonight, you’ve been watching me like a rooster patrolling a henhouse. Would you like to tell me what exactly is bothering you?”

  “What…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Maggie noticed he wouldn’t quite meet her gaze.

  “I am talking about the way you keep watching me. And the way you’ve been bringing up Kenny’s name for days now to see what sort of response you get.”

  Well, at least he had the grace to flush.

  “That’s not so at all,” he said.

  “Oh, but it is so. Are you sorry we invited Kenny and his wife to supper tonight? It was your idea, you know.”

  “No, I’m not sorry. I’m looking forward to it.” He paused. “Aren’t you?”

  Maggie put the whisk on the counter and faced him. “I
expect I would be if you weren’t acting so peculiar.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are, Jonathan. And I’d like to know why.”

  He surprised her. Rather than offer yet another denial, he gave a decidedly lame shrug and an even lamer smile. “I didn’t realize I’d been so obvious,” he said quietly. His expression remained that of a small boy trapped by his own mischief. “I’m not sure, actually. I suppose I feel somewhat strange. Since you and Kenny used to be…close. It seems awkward somehow.”

  Maggie stared at him. “Close? Back when we were children, perhaps. Jonathan, I haven’t seen Kenny for years.”

  He winced. “I know. And I know I’m being foolish—what with his being married and—”

  “His being married? What about us? We’re married too, aren’t we? Jonathan, why should you care one way or the other that Kenny’s back in Skingle Creek?”

  She studied him. “No…you’re not…you can’t possibly think anything would change the way I feel about you?”

  There. That was it. Something flickered in his eyes, and Maggie knew she’d hit a nerve. Instinctively she moved closer to him. “Jonathan, do you really trust my love for you so little?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut but quickly opened them again. “No. No, of course not. It’s not that—”

  Maggie searched his gaze. “That’s how it seems,” she said gently. “Jonathan, don’t you understand, even now, what you mean to me? You’re everything to me. No one will ever change that. No one could.” She paused. “You can’t treat our love like fine china, as if it might break as easily as a porcelain cup. It’s not so fragile that anything can ever shatter it. Not ever.”

  He let out a long breath and lifted his hands, palms up, seeking forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Maggie. Don’t be upset with me. I do trust you, of course. I suppose I’m still not quite used to the idea that you’re actually my wife, that we’re finally together.”

  Maggie reached to draw his face to hers and kissed him. “I suggest you get used to it, you foolish man,” she said, feigning a sternness she didn’t feel as she settled herself into his arms.

  He kissed her, long enough that she had to push him away. “I’m going to burn the gravy if you don’t keep your distance. Now go look out the front and see if there’s any sign of them. I don’t want Figaro bolting around the house and jumping on Kenny’s wife, what with her expecting a baby.”

  With obvious reluctance, he released her and started for the door.

  “And Jonathan—”

  He turned back.

  “I love you more than everything. Remember that.”

  He smiled and gave a small nod. “Thanks be,” he said, using one of Maggie’s expressions.

  “Yes,” she said softy, watching him leave the kitchen. “Thanks be indeed.”

  Maggie’s only awkward moment came when Kenny and his wife, Anna, first stepped inside. She had gone upstairs to fetch the waking Gracie and somehow ended up behind Jonathan, peering around him like a shy child as their guests entered.

  “Kenny, Anna, welcome to our home,” Jonathan announced, glancing back over his shoulder in search of Maggie.

  He and Kenny shook hands, leaving Maggie to wonder what sort of a greeting was appropriate from her to such a close friend—but one she hadn’t seen for some years—and the wife she’d never met.

  She needn’t have worried. Kenny made it easier than she would have thought possible. Seeing her, the old familiar grin broke over his face, and he opened his arms to her. Maggie stole a quick look at Jonathan before reciprocating, but he smiled broadly, reaching for the baby so Maggie could accept a hug from her old friend.

  “Ah, you’re a sight, Maggie!” exclaimed Kenny, nodding as if he found her just as he’d expected. He then drew his wife to him. “I want you both to meet Anna, my wife. Anna, here are the famous Maggie and Mr. Stuart you’ve heard so much about.”

  Maggie turned to the woman at Kenny’s side and was met by a sweet, if somewhat shy, smile and a warm, dark-eyed gaze. Kenny’s wife was an inch or so taller than Maggie and almost as slender except for the fact that, as Jonathan had indicated, she was clearly with child.

  “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Maggie,” she said, her voice quiet, her Irish accent distinct. “I feel as if I’ve known you for an age. And Mr. Stuart—I expected you to be nine feet tall from the way Ken goes on about you.”

  “It’s ‘Jonathan,’ Anna, please. To you as well, Kenny. I’m not your teacher anymore. Anna, Maggie and I couldn’t be happier that you’ve brought Kenny back to us. He’s been missed.”

  Maggie couldn’t have hoped for the rest of the evening to go even half as well as it did. In between reminiscing about school days, Jonathan plied Kenny with questions about India and his work on the mission field. As for Anna, Maggie liked her immediately. Indeed, she liked her a lot, and she thought Anna enjoyed herself, her initial shyness fading as the evening wore on. She was clearly taken with Gracie, giving her a bottle while Maggie saw to their meal and then insisting on going upstairs to help put her to bed.

  “I want to learn everything I can from you,” she said. “In two more months I’ll be doing all this myself.”

  As they left the baby’s room, she put a hand to Maggie’s arm, saying, “I can’t thank you enough for having us tonight, Maggie. I’ve been a bit worried, you see, about coming here. Ken, of course, knows most everybody in town, with myself not knowing a soul until now.”

  “Oh, you’ll like it here, Anna, I promise you. The coal dust takes a bit of getting used to, but it’s a friendly town. You’ll feel at home in no time.” She paused. “You will be staying, won’t you?”

  “I’m not quite sure as yet just what we’ll be doing. Ken needs to get his strength back before we make any decisions. Eventually, of course, he’ll need to find a job.”

  “So you’re not going back to the mission field?”

  Anna shook her head. “At least not soon. We’ve both prayed a great deal about things, and we’re convinced the Lord has led us back here for a reason.”

  “Well, I’m glad He did,” Maggie said, starting down the steps. “I’ve been hoping for a friend for a long time. It seems that all my school chums have moved away. Tell me about yourself while I get supper on the table. Did Kenny tell you that my family is from Ireland too? We already have a lot in common.”

  They went on talking until they reached the kitchen. A few minutes later they found Jonathan and Kenny out back with Figaro, the big hound showing off in the worst way for company.

  “You need to come inside and wash up now,” Maggie told them. “We’re putting supper on the table. And leave Figaro out here. He can come in later.”

  “Jonathan spoils that dog as if he were a child,” she told Anna as she dished up the roast and potatoes. “Though, in truth, I expect I’m almost as guilty.”

  “Oh, he’s such a handsome animal. Ken wants a dog. He says he was never allowed one as a boy.”

  Maggie looked at her. “How do you find Mr. Tallman?”

  Anna lifted her eyebrows, and for a moment her expression turned almost impish. “He fancies himself quite the potentate, now doesn’t he?”

  “Don’t let him intimidate you,” Maggie cautioned. “He can be a hard man, but I’m sure he’s glad to have Kenny and you home.”

  Anna sighed. “Those two—they’re something of oil and water, aren’t they? Ken doesn’t seem to understand that his father is simply afraid to show him any softness.” She smiled again. “He’s not that way at all with me. He’s almost courtly. Ken just shakes his head. He doesn’t know what to make of his da when I’m around.”

  “So you and Mr. Tallman get along? That’s wonderful! And so good for Kenny. He needs to see a softer side of his father.”

  Anna watched as Maggie removed the centerpiece she’d fashioned from candles and ivy to make room for the last of the dishes. “Has there—” She stopped and then went on. “Has there never been an
y word about Ken’s mother in all these years?”

  Maggie looked up. “Not that I’ve heard, no.”

  “It was hard for Ken, wasn’t it?” Anna said softly. “Growing up without a mother. I can’t think what that must have been like for him. It still bothers him, you know, when he speaks of her abandonment.”

  Maggie nodded, remembering the sadness that had always clung to Kenny when they were growing up. “It was hard. Kenny didn’t have an easy time of it back then.”

  “He credits you and Mr. Stuart with the best part of his life during those years, you know. He’s that fond of both of you. He told me once that even during the worst times of his childhood, you and Mr. Stuart were his anchors. How absolutely right it is that the two of you married each other.”

  Maggie’s heart turned over at Anna’s words. “Kenny’s friendship meant a great deal to me too. He was forever rescuing me from one thing or another.” She smiled. “Well, the bad times are clearly over now, thanks to you. It’s so good to see him as happy as he is.”

  Anna remained quiet for another moment. “I’m older than Ken, you know,” she said, her words quiet and without inflection. She watched Maggie as if gauging her reaction.

  Actually, Maggie had already guessed there might be an age difference.

  “There are six years between us,” Anna went on. “It bothered me at first. But Ken won me over. I’m afraid I didn’t resist for very long.”

  “Well, as Kenny probably told you, there are a lot more years than that between Jonathan and me,” said Maggie with a laugh. “And it’s certainly worked out just fine for us.”

  Anna relaxed. “The important thing is to love each other, isn’t it? To want the same things and share the same faith? That’s really what matters, it seems to me. Being together is…everything.”

  On impulse, Maggie reached to squeeze her hand. “Oh, Anna, I’m so glad you’re here! Before my sister died—”

  Maggie had to stop for a moment, caught off guard by the pain that even the thought of Evie’s death still inflicted.