by Morgan, Kit
He ducked inside, grabbed his jacket, and put it on. That done, he stepped outside onto the porch with them, closing the door behind him. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to my office. We can work there. Mrs. Smythe, where are you storing the fireworks?”
“My husband assures me they’re in a safe place.”
“Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want any of the children to accidentally set one off. I heard about the incident you folks had last year.”
Maude grimaced. “Yes, most unfortunate.”
“What happened?” Winnie asked, happy they were heading down the porch steps and over to the church.
“Mrs. Brock’s youngest boy got into them and lit one. It almost burned the church down!” Maude explained.
“Oh, that’s terrible,” said Winnie. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Only Jasper Brock’s backside, as I understand it,” said Pastor Luke. “Mr. Brock saw to that, isn’t that right, Mrs. Smythe?”
“It most certainly is! We don’t want anything happening this year!”
Winnie glanced around the churchyard and hated the thought of innocent children getting hurt because of one child’s mischief. “No, we don’t.”
They followed him down a path that ran alongside the church to a rear door. Pastor Luke led them inside and into a small office. He pulled out a chair for Winnie, indicating she was to sit down. “Is there anything else you have for me today, Mrs. Smythe?”
“No, I think I’ve brought you all you need,” she said with a wide smile. “You two have fun, now. Martha will be along shortly with a list of things to be done this week. We’ve only two weeks to prepare, you know!”
With that, she left. Winnie folded her hands in her lap and stared at them as Pastor Luke sat in his chair on the other side of the desk. “So; Miss Longfellow, is it? I hope we’ll make progress today. But, first, I need to have you clarify a few things for me.”
She looked up at him, her heart beating faster in response. “Yes?”
“I’m a little confused. You couldn’t possibly have come out here just to work with me. What else are you here for? Have you relatives in town?”
She felt her heart stop. “Ah … wel … wel… ” She took a deep breath. “Well, you see, I’m staying with Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. I’ll be working for them for a time.” She let out the air and smiled.
“Really?” he said with interest. “Doing what?”
She swallowed. “Whatever it is they need done.
“Do you have experience with that sort of thing?”
Her eyes widened. She’d been so faint from hunger last night; she hadn’t bothered to ask what sort of business the Smythes’ were in. Mrs. Vander was married to the mayor, that much she knew, and Mrs. Tindle and her husband ran the mercantile … but what on earth would she be doing for her current hosts? She said the first thing that popped into her head, the one thing she was good at. “I have lots of experience taking care of people.”
He cocked his head to one side, his eyes darting away and back again. “Oh? How much experience?”
“Well, I … I took care of my mother for years.”
“What?” he asked, his brows rising in question. “I shouldn’t think that sort of care would be needed for long.”
She sat frozen in her chair. What kind of care was he talking about? “I did what I could for her, considering the circumstances. Folks tell me she lasted a lot longer because of it, and that she looked much better than expected.”
He stared at her. “Yes, I suppose … in those circumstances, it’s important to … ah… preserve the, ah … well, I guess it all depends on how long things run.”
Winnie smiled, still not sure what he was referring to, and figured she’d better change the subject. “Tell me, how many folks do you expect to attend the celebration?”
“The whole town, I’m told.”
“The entire town?”
“Yes, including the farmers in the outlying areas. Independence is much closer for them. Salem has a celebration, but it’s too far away. Folks would have to spend the night.”
“I see,” she stated and made a show of glancing around the small office. “Have you been here long?”
“Not really. I arrived just a few months ago.”
“Oh, so you’re fairly new in town. They must have written your letter shortly after you arrived …”
“What was that?” he asked.
Winnie snapped her mouth shut and stared at him. “I mean, I received a letter … from Mrs. Smythe, asking … that I come.” She sat, wide-eyed, and prayed that she didn’t look or sound like an idiot. By her calculations, Mercy, Maude, and Martha must have sent for her shortly after he took over the church. At least, she knew she was telling him the truth on that score. Maude and the others had sent her a letter, requesting her to come. She’d leave out the part about how she thought the letter was from him.
He gave her a half-smile and began to drum his fingers on the desk. “Let’s get started, shall we? The others should be here by now.”
“Others? What others?”
“The rest of the committee. Who else? Now that you’re here, you’ll be taking over.”
“What?” she squeaked, “Taking over?”
“Of course, I don’t have time to lead every meeting. I have sermons to write, and a meeting with the men this afternoon. Then I have to go look in on Mr. Thompson, he’s got a broken leg, and his wife has been sick, and then there are the Edmonsons. And … well, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here. I really can use the help. I’m glad Mrs. Smythe and the others took the initiative and sent for you. Besides, I don’t know beans about setting off those fireworks.”
“Fireworks?”
“I’m glad they brought in an expert. I must say, I was surprised to find out a woman would know about such things.”
Winnie stared at him, her mouth agape. Even if she didn’t stutter, she still would have been speechless. He expected her to be in charge of the fireworks? She didn’t know beans about such things either! Good heavens! What was she to do?
“Let’s go see if Mrs. Brock and the others are here, shall we?” he asked as he stood.
Winnie nodded; her mind racing over the last twenty-four hours. How had she managed to go from mail-order bride to an expert on explosives? He didn’t expect her to be the one to set the things off, did he? Good grief! What if he did?
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked as he stepped out from behind the desk.
She looked at him, her face frozen in bewilderment. She gripped her side of the desk then pushed herself up from her chair. He smiled and motioned her to the open door behind her. She looked at it numbly, and took a step forward; feeling as if she were walking to the gallows. How did she get into this mess?
“I’m sure Mrs. Brock will have some ideas to share with you. She always does.”
“Mrs. Brock?” Winnie heard herself say. The name rang a bell, but she didn’t have time to think why. Before she knew it, she was being led out to a short hall that went straight to the sanctuary, where a group of women gathered.
“Good morning, ladies,” Pastor Luke greeted.
The women smiled, waved, some even giggled as he drew near. One, however, looked at him with a sour expression on her face. “Pastor Adams, you’re late.”
He stopped up short, took out his pocket watch, and checked the time. “On the contrary, Mrs. Brock; you’re early. And please, call me Pastor Luke. I prefer it.”
She sucked air through her nose and stepped aside. Behind her stood a beautiful young woman with raven black hair and bright blue eyes. Winnie felt her heart sink another notch. “May I introduce you to my daughter, Eva? She arrived just this morning. She’s been away visiting my sister for quite some time. Poor dear, the woman gets sicker and sicker as the months roll by. But my Eva is an angel of mercy,” she turned to the girl. “Aren’t you, dear?”
The girl smiled and looked Pastor Luke up and down like he was a piece of can
dy. “Yes, Mother.”
“And Lord knows, our society needs more young people like my Eva to take care of the sick and the widowed,” she added as she shot him a pointed look.
Pastor Luke smiled in return, but added nothing to her little speech. Instead, he motioned to Winnie. “I’d like to introduce Miss Longfellow, also just arrived. She’s come to help with the planning of our Fourth of July celebration. She’s a friend of the Smythes’ and came with the fireworks. She’ll be in charge of things from here on out.”
“What?” several women exclaimed.
“But, Pastor Luke, we put you in charge,” a plump woman said with a whine.
He turned to her. “My dear Mrs. Peatman; I haven’t the time to see to all the details properly, so I’m going to take whatever extra help is offered.”
“My Eva can do it! What was that Maude Smythe thinking, bringing in a stranger?”
“Because she’s an expert,” Pastor Luke stated matter-of-factly. “And I, for one, am glad she’s here.”
Winnie felt encouraged by his words, even though she had no idea what she was doing. Expert in what? Certainly not fireworks! She’d have to speak with Mr. Smythe and pray that he knew something about them! Of course, there was always the alternative …
“But, Pastor Adams,” Mrs. Brock continued. “Eva came home early from my sister’s to help you. She’s the more logical choice, as she’s been part of this community her entire life.”
He looked at the raven-haired beauty. “Can you organize the fireworks and set them off?”
Her eyes wide and her mouth half-open, she looked at her mother who stared back, her eyes narrowed. “No, I’m afraid I can’t. But I can help with the organizing.”
“Excellent; then you and Miss Longfellow are in charge,” he announced.
“But, Pastor Adams!” Mrs. Brock cried as he spun on his heel and turned toward the short hall that led to his office. “What about the rest of us?”
“Ask Miss Longfellow what to do,” he called over his shoulder. He then disappeared into the hall and left the group with the sound of his office door closing shut.
“Well, I never!” Mrs. Brock huffed.
“I think Elma should be in charge of organizing the picnic,” said Mrs. Peatman.
Winnie stared at the group and swallowed hard. She took a deep breath, for safety’s sake, and took the plunge. “Let’s introduce ourselves first. After all, if we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know your names.”
“Of course, dear!” exclaimed a short woman with grey hair. “I’m Elma Gelsinger, and this is Mrs. Caulder.” She pointed to a tall, thin woman next to her with huge eyes and a hooked nose. She reminded Winnie of an owl.
“I’m Alice Peatman,” said the other woman. “My husband’s the town barber. He was in charge of the fireworks last several years. I can’t imagine what he’s going to think when he finds out a woman was put in charge!”
Winnie’s eyes widened. This was her chance! “Oh, well, I don’t see why he can’t handle the fireworks again this year. That would free me up to help out with other things.”
Mrs. Peatman smiled. “Really? Why, that’s very generous of you. I thought perhaps you had your heart set on handling them. Why else would you be here?”
Winnie let out a laugh. “Why else?” she said with a shrug. “But I have other reasons for coming to your lovely town. But Mrs. Smythe thought it best if I … help with your celebration first.”
Mrs. Brock narrowed her eyes. “What other reason are you here? I don’t recall Maude saying anything about relatives coming to visit.”
Winnie swallowed. “I’m not a relative, I’m …” Drat! What was she? She couldn’t lie; she was having a hard enough time with this fiasco! “I’m assisting the Smythes with their business.”
The women all took a step back and stared at her, their faces etched with disbelief. “What do you do for them?” Mrs. Peatman asked.
“I … I take care of people.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine what that must be like!” Mrs. Caulder croaked. “I’d faint if I ever had to … take care of one.”
Mrs. Gelsinger’s eyes were round as saucers. “Do you have to touch them?”
Winnie’s face screwed up in confusion. “Touch them?”
Mrs. Gelsinger nodded with a grimace. “The people, of course. Do you have to touch them?”
What sort of a question was that? Winnie thought. “Well, naturally when one is taking care of a person, you have to touch them. When they’re in a really bad way, they can’t change their clothes by themselves, or comb their own hair.”
“Ohhhhhh, I think I’m going to faint!” cried Mrs. Caulder.
“Eunice!” barked Mrs. Peatman. “Get a hold of yourself! After all, more and more women are working these days!”
“Yes, but to do such a job!”
Winnie stared at them as she bit her lip. “It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. I took care of my mother for a long time.”
Mrs. Caulder took one last look at her, before her eyes rolled back in her head.
“EEEKKK!” Mrs. Gelsinger cried. “She’s going down!”
And she did, with a loud thud.
“Mrs. Caulder!” Winnie exclaimed and ran to her side. “Someone help me get her up!” Mrs. Peatman got down and, together, they sat the woman up and began fanning her face with their hands. “Mrs. Brock, bring some water, please.”
Mrs. Brock’s face was locked in indecision for a moment before she got moving and hurried to the short hall. Within moments, Pastor Luke came running out. “What happened?” he asked, shocked.
“Miss Longfellow caused poor Eunice to faint with her tales of gore,” Mrs. Brock stated.
“What?” Winnie snapped. “Tales of gore? What are you talking about?”
“Any woman who handles dead bodies ought to be ashamed of herself; speaking about such things to those of us with a more delicate and sophisticated nature,” Mrs. Brock sneered. “I think you’re positively ghastly!”
Eva, quiet all this time, cringed at her mother’s words but still said nothing.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t speak of your work here, Miss Longfellow,” Pastor Luke suggested in a gentle tone.
Winnie stared at him, mouth agape. “Dead bodies?”
“There she goes again!” cried Mrs. Brock.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” said Winnie. “I do not handle dead bodies!”
Pastor Luke furrowed his brow in confusion. “Then, what do you do for the Smythes? I know Mrs. Smythe takes care of the business’ bookkeeping, and arrangements, but Mr. Smythe handles the … ah … rest. Though, as he’s mentioned he needed help … I assumed …”
“You assumed what?” asked Winnie, totally flabbergasted at this point.
“That you were helping Mr. Smythe prep the deceased for burial,” he stated with a wave of his hand.
She stared at him a moment, before the cackling started. She couldn’t help herself; the absurdity of it hit all at once, and then she remembered the conversation she’d had with him earlier. It all made sense now. Mr. Smythe must be the town undertaker.
“How can you laugh at a time like this?” screeched Mrs. Brock.
“Mrs. Caulder will be fine,” assured Pastor Luke.
As if to confirm the statement, Mrs. Caulder moaned. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at the faces of those around her. “Mercy me! What happened?”
“You fainted,” Mrs. Peatman told her. “But you’re all right now.”
“She is not all right; none of us is all right!” Mrs. Brock announced with a huff.
“My dear Mrs. Brock,” Pastor Luke said with what sounded like an extra dose of patience. “Let us move on. Everything’s fine.” He held out his hands to Mrs. Caulder and helped her to her feet. She stood, took one look at Winnie and shook her head.
“I believe there’s been a horrible misunderstanding. I,I,I, I …” Oh drat! She took a deep breath. “I do not handle the … decease
d for the Smythes, as you seem to think. I just help out … with whatever is needed. And right now, it’s the town’s Fourth of July celebration.” She let out what little breath she had left, and took another. “Let’s get to work, then, shall we?”
Six
Luke bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. The look on Miss Longfellow’s face was adorable. But it was also obvious she had no idea what they’d been talking about. How could she not realize their assumption? It was no secret that Jonathan Smythe needed help. He prepared the coffins, dug the graves, and got the deceased ready for burial so, of course, he needed help! But from a woman? Yet, he’d heard of stranger things, so why not? Some help was better than none, and perhaps Maude would assist her husband with whatever work didn’t require tremendous amounts of strength, and had brought Miss Longfellow to town to perform some of the other duties. The bookkeeping, for one, and also helping families with the funeral arrangements of the dearly departed.
He shook his head at how easy it was for a misunderstanding to happen, and come to the wrong conclusion. He looked at her shocked face, his own full of mirth. “Would you like a little help?”
Winnie was still on the floor. Mrs. Peatman was pulled to her feet by Mrs. Gelsinger. She stared up at him as she sucked in a breath. “Yes, that would be appreciated.”
He held out his hand, and when she took it, he noticed how soft and small they were in his own. He helped her up, her hand still in his, and gazed at her.
She was no great beauty by any means. Pretty, yes, but she wasn’t a raving beauty like Eva Brock, not by a long shot. But she had a serene gentleness in her eyes, a kindness that could not be denied, and he felt something deep stir within him.
“Thank you,” she told him as she looked at her hand still locked in his. “I think we’d best get back to work.”
“Yes,” he said, well aware of the fact that he needed to let go of her, but those eyes …
She swallowed and looked away, a blush creeping into her cheeks. He took a deep breath and released her hand. “I’ll stay and help you ladies this time. I should have at least gotten you started. I apologize.”