That evening, when the last of the children were settled in their beds, Eileen sought out Mr. Tucker. She found him on the front porch. But he wasn’t whittling. Instead he stood near the steps with his elbows planted on the porch rail, apparently just staring out at the sky.
She hesitated, not sure whether to approach him or slip back inside. Before she could make up her mind he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a smile. “Care to join me?”
With a nod, she closed the door behind her and joined him at the rail. They stood side by side, close enough to touch if they cared to, staring out at the night sky, not speaking.
The silence drew out but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, in fact it felt quite…companionable. He had burned the leaves the boys raked up earlier, and the smoky scent still hung in the air. A dog barked in the distance, and she thought of Joey and his desire to have a pet of his own. Which reminded her of her own desire for a pet growing up.
No, best not to think of the past.
Time to get back to business. “There is something I need to speak to you about.”
“Oh?” He turned his head toward her, keeping his elbows planted on the rail. “Is there another chore you thought of that I can take care of for you?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Did he think her so mercenary? She was silent a little longer. “This is not exactly my story to tell, but I felt it important you understand, not only for your own information, but also to help answer any questions the children may have.”
He turned completely around this time and leaned back against the rail, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m listening.”
Having those blue eyes of his focused so intently on her like that was more distracting than she wanted to let on. “It concerns Dovie. When we head for church service in the morning, she won’t be joining us.”
Simon frowned. “Don’t tell me she’s not a believer. I’ve heard her pray and she seems quite sincere.”
“No, that’s not it. I guess you could say she has a malady of sorts that prevents her from going out amongst people.”
A wrinkle furrowed his brow. “What kind of malady?”
“I don’t really understand it. Ivy tried to explain it to me once. It seems Dovie gets agitated and physically ill if she tries to leave the immediate vicinity of the house. Apparently she needs to feel her room is nearby so that she can retreat to it if she feels overwhelmed.”
“How unusual.” He seemed more intrigued than skeptical. “So, has she always lived here with you?”
“No, she moved in this past summer. She actually lived in another town before that. But she lost her home and moved here to be closer to Ivy.”
“If she can’t leave the area around her home, then how did she make that trip?”
“My understanding is she took a sleeping draught and then Ivy and her husband took care of getting her here while she slept.”
“That’s incredible.” His hand moved as if to touch her, then halted. But her own hand tingled as if realizing its loss.
“Thank you for explaining the situation.” He turned back around to stare out into the dark. “You’re right—the children probably will have questions. I’m not sure exactly what to say to them.”
“You accepted the truth. Why shouldn’t they?”
He lifted an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye. “Is everything always so black-and-white for you?”
Did he think her too narrow-minded? She turned to face out into the night, as well. “Gray does exist, of course, but it’s the color of shadows and fog. I find it best to stay away from it, if possible.”
He didn’t look her way, but she had no doubt he intended her to see the teasing smile that tugged at his lips. “An answer for everything.”
As earlier, they were both silent for a while, staring out at nothing in particular. But this time it wasn’t quite so comfortable. Was he as aware of her presence as she was of his?
“It’s nice out here this time of evening.”
His tone had been soft, but she’d been so lost in her own tangled thoughts that she barely controlled the start at the sound of his voice. Luckily he didn’t seem to notice.
“The streetlamps are lit,” he continued, “most everyone is in their homes, the stars are shining bright.”
“One could almost imagine that the slate has been wiped clean and that tomorrow will bring a fresh beginning.” As soon as she’d said the words she wished them back. Such thoughts were not meant to be shared.
But he’d already turned to look at her, a puzzled smile on his face. He brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “And what is on your slate that you wish wiped clean?” he asked softly.
That touch sent a shiver through her. For just a moment, she was tempted to tell him everything.
Then reason reasserted itself. She drew herself up and removed any hint of emotion from her face. “I believe everyone has some fault or other they’d like to rid themselves of, don’t you agree?”
“I suppose. After all, only one man has ever led a perfect life.”
She nodded. “Exactly. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will retire for the night.” And before he could ask her any more probing questions, she turned and went inside.
*
Simon watched her go. He’d thought, for just a moment, that she’d thawed toward him. But no doubt it had been the hour and the events of the day that had caused her to let down her guard. It had certainly snapped back into place quickly enough when he’d touched her. But he didn’t regret the act. He’d been wanting to touch her hair all day. And it had been every bit as silky as he’d imagined. For a moment he tried to picture how it might look loose, tumbling over her shoulders.
Abruptly, he pushed away from the rail. Getting involved in this woman’s business would be a mistake. His focus should be on fulfilling his obligations to the children and to Miss Fredrick.
And that meant getting them to Hatcherville as soon as possible, not dallying here in Turnabout. Hopefully, in no time at all this town, and this warm-below-the-surface ice queen, would be nothing more than a fond but quickly fading memory.
But as he climbed the stairs he had a feeling that the memory of this particular woman wouldn’t fade quite so quickly.
*
The next morning was a whirlwind of activity as they worked to get all ten children ready for church. There were lost ribbons to be found, loose buttons to be reattached, shoes to be found, hair to be braided or combed just so.
By the time everyone was ready and lined up by the door, Eileen felt her hostess skills, not to mention her patience, had been tested to their very limits. But at last they were ready to make the three-and-a-half-block walk to church.
Before they could step out the front door, however, Tessa looked around with a puzzled frown. “Aren’t we going to wait for Nana Dovie?”
“Miss Jacobs is not going with us,” Eileen answered.
“Why? Is she sick like Gee-Gee?” Joey asked anxiously.
“No,” Eileen hastily reassured him, “at least not like your Gee-Gee.”
“So she is sick?” Tessa pressed.
Eileen cast a quick glance Mr. Tucker’s way, but he was apparently leaving it to her to do the explaining. Very well. “Miss Jacobs never goes very far from this house—not to go shopping, not to visit friends, not to take walks, not even to go to church.”
“Why?”
To Eileen’s relief, Mr. Tucker finally decided to speak up. “Because something inside her won’t let her. The same way Rose can’t eat foods that touch, or Molly can’t go to sleep without Flossie. Nana Dovie’s heart won’t let her leave this place. She can’t help it, and we shouldn’t think ill of her for it.”
That seemed to satisfy the children. Without another word they exited the house and headed for the front walk. Eileen cast an approving glance Mr. Tucker’s way, then thought better of it when she saw his self-satisfied grin.
That man didn’t seem to have a humble bone in hi
s body!
She stepped forward and took the lead with Molly and Tessa, while Mr. Tucker brought up the rear. It felt as if they were in a parade. Then she corrected herself. No, it was more like a mother duck trying to get her hatchlings safely across the lane and to the pond.
Pushing aside that unflattering image, she tried to think ahead to what they would do when they arrived. Her first thought was the realization that they would never all fit in one pew. Should they divide up the boys and girls as they had the floors, or should they put the older children together and the younger ones together? And however they did this, would Mr. Tucker expect her to oversee one of the groups?
In the end they went with the latter arrangements. The six older children sat in one pew while the four younger ones sat behind them with Eileen and Simon bookending them.
It wasn’t until everyone was finally seated that Eileen breathed a sigh of relief. How had Miss Fredrick handled all of this on a daily basis, and without the assistance of Dovie and Mr. Tucker?
A moment later she began to sense something different. It took a moment for her to figure out what it was, then it hit her. There were people actually sending smiles of greeting her way.
She had so perfected the art of not meeting anyone’s gaze these past two years, and not showing any outward sign of emotion of any sort, that she’d almost missed it.
It wasn’t coming from everyone, of course. But there were enough that it was unmistakable. And only now, when some sense of welcome had returned, did she admit to herself how much she’d missed it.
*
Simon found the children surprisingly well behaved throughout the service, with minimal fidgeting on the younger ones’ part.
After the service, several of the local children introduced themselves to the newcomers. If at least part of the reason was because they had been prompted by their parents, Simon had no problem with that. He let the kids tarry and visit for a while. It would be good for them to mingle with others their own age.
Mrs. Pierce stood next to him, her unapproachable ice-queen mask now firmly back in place.
Was it her choice not to mingle with her neighbors or had she been ostracized for some reason? Before he could speculate further, they were approached by a trio that included two women and an impressively large gentleman.
The man greeted Mrs. Pierce with a tip of his hat. “Good day to you.”
She returned his greeting with a nod of her head. “And to you, Mr. Parker.” Her expression never wavered.
Mr. Parker then extended his hand to Simon. “Hello. I’m Mitch Parker. I believe you’ve already met my wife, Ivy. And this is Miss Janell Whitman.”
Simon acknowledged the introductions and then Mr. Parker spoke again. “Miss Whitman and I are the schoolteachers here in Turnabout. We wanted to let you know the children are welcome to attend school while you’re here in town.”
Simon immediately liked the idea. It would be good for the children to be around others their age on a regular basis, and it would also give them something besides their uncertain futures to focus on. Not to mention that it would give Mrs. Pierce a break from having them underfoot.
“Thank you. If it turns out we have to make an extended stay here, I might take you up on that offer.”
“Just let us know when you’re ready,” Miss Whitman added. “Do you know what sort of education they’ve had up to this point?”
“I believe Miss Fredrick taught them herself.”
“Well, we can certainly work with them to see how far she’s gotten with them. Are any of them eleven or older?”
“Fern is thirteen and Russell is eleven.”
“Then they’ll go into my class,” Mitch said. “The rest, at least those six years old and older, will join Miss Whitman’s class.”
That would leave just Molly and Joey at home during the day. Surely that would make things easier on Mrs. Pierce. And, he had to admit, himself, as well.
Before the trio excused themselves, Mrs. Parker turned to Mrs. Pierce. “I know you have a full house, but I hope you don’t mind if we make our usual visit with Nana Dovie this afternoon. I promise we’ll stay out of the way.”
Mrs. Pierce’s demeanor thawed the tiniest bit. “Of course. Dovie will be expecting you.”
“Thank you. Then we’ll be by at the regular time.”
As they moved away, Eileen spoke up. “Ivy is Dovie’s foster daughter. She and her husband normally visit with her on Sunday afternoons.”
Glad of the explanation, Simon nodded. Then he spotted Mrs. Leggett and Mrs. Pratt and excused himself to speak to them. “Is there any news?”
“My husband is sitting with her now,” Mrs. Pratt said. “But I’m afraid there’s been very little change.” She glanced toward the children across the way. “Poor little dears—they’re having a hard time of it, I imagine.”
He thanked her for her concern, then smiled at the two women. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I absolutely believe the doctor is doing everything he can. And that I appreciate all the care the three of you are giving her.”
Mrs. Pratt patted his arm. “You’re a good man, Mr. Tucker. The children are lucky to have you looking out for them.”
Simon wished he felt as confident of that as she seemed to be.
He turned to find Mrs. Pierce standing apart from the others, a remote expression on her face, an expression that seemed aimed at no one in particular and everyone here at the same time.
It was eerie to witness, and more than anything else it made him wonder why she found it necessary to shield herself that way. Who or what in her past had done that to her?
Chapter Thirteen
When they returned to the house, Dovie had the table set and the food warmed up.
As they ate their meal, Eileen again did her best to keep a pleasant conversation going. But it was difficult when she felt herself being scrutinized by Mr. Tucker. It had started in the churchyard, his studying her as if he was trying to discover her secrets. And that was something she absolutely would not allow.
Mr. Tucker cleared his throat, and for a moment she thought he was going to address her. But instead he looked around at the children.
“I met Turnabout’s schoolteachers today,” he announced.
The children all paused and stared at him questioningly.
“They were kind enough to invite you all to attend school while you’re here.”
“What did you tell them?” Harry asked. “Are we really going to school here?”
“I told him I’d consider it. If we end up staying for any length of time, though, I think it would be a good idea.”
“Then there’s no point in sending us there,” Fern said firmly. “Gee-Gee is going to get better soon and we’ll be on our way to Hatcherville again.”
Eileen saw the small tic of emotion in Simon’s face and decided to speak up and shift the focus off him. “I’m certain Miss Fredrick would agree that it’s important for you to keep up with your studies.”
“You don’t know her,” Fern said, “so you don’t really know how she’d feel about it.”
Simon gave her a lowered-brow look. “Mind your manners, young lady.”
Fern leaned back sullenly and stared down at her plate.
“There are a lot of good reasons to enroll you,” he said to the group at large. “As Mrs. Pierce pointed out, you need to keep up with your studies. It will also give you an opportunity to meet new friends.”
“But we’re just going to leave Turnabout eventually,” Russell said. “So what good is it to make friends here?”
“Making friends is never a waste of time,” Dovie said quietly.
“But—”
Simon raised a hand. “As I said, I haven’t made a decision yet, but when the time comes, the decision will be mine to make and I expect you to abide by it. Is that understood?”
There was a chorus of “yes sirs” from the children, some less enthusiastic than others.
All in al
l, Eileen was impressed with the way Mr. Tucker had handled the situation. He’d certainly shown that he was able to use a firm hand with them when it was called for.
*
Simon pushed his chair back from the table. He’d eaten a bigger slice of pie than he should have but that apple and pecan filling under the golden crust had been too good to pass up.
Before he could stand, though, the door chimes sounded.
Mrs. Pierce looked up with a frown. “Now whoever could that be? It’s too early for Ivy and Mitch to arrive.” She stood and moved to the front hall.
While she was gone, the rest of them began clearing the table. When she returned a few moments later her gaze went right to him. Something in her expression alerted him that something wasn’t quite right.
“Mr. Tucker, may I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.”
He saw a look pass between her and Dovie, and immediately Dovie got the children busy with kitchen duty.
With a slight nod of her head, the widow indicated he should follow her into the hall.
“What is it?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the children.
“Dr. Pratt is here to speak to you. He is waiting in the parlor.”
There was only one reason the doctor would have come to him this afternoon. Simon steeled himself for the worst. Mrs. Pierce watched him, her expression impassive, but he thought he detected a note of sympathy lurking in her eyes. She either knew the reason for the doctor’s visit or suspected the same thing he did.
Impulsively he touched her arm. “Would you mind joining us for this conversation?” He wasn’t really sure why he’d asked her that, and from the momentary flicker of surprise in her eyes, she wasn’t either, so he added quickly, “Whatever the news, it will likely affect our stay here, so you may want to hear what he has to say firsthand.”
She nodded, her expression impassive once more. “Of course.” Then she turned and led the way to the parlor.
When Simon entered the room, Dr. Pratt was standing, his coat over one arm and his hat on a chair beside him, as if he wasn’t planning to stay long.
The physician stepped forward and shook Simon’s hand, then wasted no further time in getting to the point. “Mr. Tucker, I’m afraid it’s my sad duty to inform you that Miss Fredrick passed away a short time ago.”
Love Inspired Historical November 2014 Page 11