“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Jane held aside the curtain that separated the front shop from the workroom and motioned for Felicia to go first. What met her eyes was not what she’d expected. While the front of the long, narrow building was tidy as a pin and sparsely furnished—two small tables with mirrors on them, two padded stools for the customers, a half dozen hats on display—the back room was an explosion of colorful disarray. Every table and shelf was covered with ribbons, feathers, buttons, and all kinds of other decorations, as well as several hats in varying stages of completion.
Jane quickly cleared off the seat of one of the chairs. “Please, sit down here.”
“How long have you been making hats?” Felicia asked, her gaze continuing to roam about the room.
“I’ve had my shop nigh onto five years now. Lewis thought it a good idea … when it seemed certain we wouldn’t be blessed with children.”
Felicia looked at the other woman then and saw the lingering sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Well,”—Jane revealed a quivering smile—“we have our boys now.”
Felicia wasn’t fooled by the forced cheer. It couldn’t be an easy thing, burying five babies. That kind of pain must always remain in a mother’s heart.
Jane sobered. “You’ve come about Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“He’s in trouble?”
Felicia nodded. “Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He got into a fistfight with another boy. There was some name-calling and cursing first, and the next thing we knew, the boys were rolling on the classroom floor.”
“Oh dear.” Tears welled in Jane’s eyes. “He doesn’t want to be here. I think he hates us, my husband and me.”
“He doesn’t hate you, Mrs. Carpenter. He’s afraid, and he’s trying to work up his courage the only way he knows how.”
Jane dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Felicia leaned forward on her chair. “I know something about this.” She reached out and took Jane’s hand in hers. “After my mother died, I was placed out, just like your boys. I was Keith’s age when I was taken from the only home I’d ever known and sent across the country and separated from my brother and sister. I was a girl who’d been raised in the tenements of Chicago, and suddenly I found myself living on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Everything seemed strange and vast and empty. I was terribly afraid, terribly lonely.”
“I didn’t know that about you.”
“I don’t talk about it much. Not that I’m ashamed to have been orphaned or placed out. I’m not. It simply doesn’t seem very important to me now. But it does give me a unique understanding of what Daniel and Keith are going through.”
Jane’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sure you didn’t get into fistfights with other girls at school, did you?”
She gave a brief smile. “No. I coped with my fear in a different way.” She thought of Hugh as she released Jane’s hand and straightened again. “I believe my brother was more like Daniel.”
Jane used her handkerchief to blow her nose.
“Do you love these boys?” Felicia asked softly. “Does your husband love them?”
The answer came swift and strong. “Yes. We both do. Very much. From the first moment we saw them.”
“Then just keep doing so. Keith already accepts it. I know he does. He calls you Ma and your husband Pa, and he’s a happy child. It will take more time with Daniel. He’s older, and he’s used to taking care of himself and his brother. No one’s wanted to look out for him in a long while. But if you’re patient, he’ll begin to trust you.”
“Lewis will insist he be disciplined for fighting in school.”
“Of course. But I hope he’ll temper the discipline with love. As will I as his teacher.” Giving Jane another squeeze of the hand, Felicia rose. “I must be going.”
Jane stood too. “Thank you, Miss Kristoffersen. For telling me about your own placement. I don’t know why, but it gives me hope.”
“I’m praying for you and your boys, Mrs. Carpenter.”
“Thank you,” Jane said again.
Felicia walked out of the back room and across the shop to the entrance, Jane following right behind her. They bid each other a good day, and then Felicia left, walking toward home, a mixture of feelings swirling in her chest. Perhaps chief among those feelings was a touch of envy. Daniel might not accept it yet, but he’d been placed with a woman who wanted to love him as only a mother could. He had no idea how blessed he was, and she hoped he would realize it soon.
EIGHTEEN
Strong winds blew in from the northwest on Saturday morning, bending trees sideways and snapping branches. As Felicia made her way across town to the Summerville home, the sky grew dark with storm clouds. To keep her straw hat from being swept away, she placed the flat of her hand on its crown and hurried toward her destination, made easier by the wind at her back.
“Gracious, look at the weather,” Kathleen said when she opened the door a short while later. “Come in. Come in before you blow away.”
“Thank you.” Felicia prayed she didn’t look as disheveled as she felt.
“You’re the first to arrive.”
“I’m not too early, am I?”
Kathleen took her by the arm, a warm smile in place. “Not at all.” She drew Felicia with her into the front parlor. “Mother Summerville is in the kitchen, speaking to Mrs. Hasting. Please sit down, and I’ll pour you some tea. Or would you prefer coffee?”
“Tea would be lovely.” Felicia removed her hat and sat on the upholstered settee.
“Milk?”
“Please.”
A blast of wind and rain rattled the windows.
“Oh no.” Kathleen twisted in her chair, looking toward the parlor window. Water ran down the glass in a thick sheet. “I hope the others don’t stay home because of the foul weather.”
“Maybe the storm won’t last long.” Judging from the darkness outside, Felicia didn’t hold out a lot of hope for that.
Kathleen turned toward her again. “At least you made it here before you got a thorough drenching.” She lifted the delicate cup and saucer and held them toward Felicia. “And you and I can have a nice visit, no matter what else happens.”
Felicia nodded as she took the cup and saucer into her own hands.
“If I haven’t already told you,” Kathleen said as she poured tea into a second cup, “Suzanne and Phoebe have nothing but praise for their new teacher.”
“They’re both good students.”
Kathleen laughed, but the sound wasn’t merry. “Their grandmother would accept nothing less from them. High performance is required of all who bear the Summerville name.”
Felicia sipped her tea, not knowing how to respond. It wasn’t that she disagreed, only that—
“I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No. Not really.”
“I envy you, Felicia.”
She felt her eyes widen. “I don’t know why you should.”
“You’re doing what you love to do. How very fortunate you are. There are so many people in the world who cannot say the same.”
“I do love teaching. I love the children.”
“I know. It’s written all over your face whenever you’re with them.” Kathleen took a sip from her teacup. “So tell me. Why haven’t you married and had a family of your own?”
Before Felicia could begin to form a reply, Helen Summerville sailed into the parlor. At first her expression was one of welcome, but it altered ever so slightly when she saw that their only guest was Felicia. “Oh. Miss Kristoffersen. You made it here before the storm.” A strong wind rattled the house, as if to emphasize her comment.
“Just barely,” Felicia answered.
Helen’s gaze shifted to her daughter-in-law. “I’m afraid your party has been spoiled by the weather, Kathleen.”
“It wasn’t a party, Mother Summerville.”
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“Of course. I chose my words poorly.” Helen took her seat in the chair farthest away from the two younger women. “Why don’t we do some preliminary planning. That way we can tell the other women what we need from them, whether they come later this morning or we must wait until we see them at church tomorrow. It is our place, as leaders in our community, to lead the way in all things. The Carpenters are in need of our help, the sooner the better.”
Felicia was certain that when Helen said “our place,” she didn’t mean to include the lone guest in the room. As far as the elder Mrs. Summerville was concerned, Felicia’s place was undoubtedly the lowest in the community.
She pasted a determined smile on her lips. “What a wonderful idea, Mrs. Summerville. How may I assist you?”
The rumble of thunder drew Colin to the front window of the mercantile. The few horses tied at posts along the main street of town stood with rumps turned to the wind and rain, heads hung low. There wasn’t a person in view. Folks thereabout had too much sense to be out in such weather.
“Never seen it rain so hard for so long,” Jimmy said as he came to stand beside Colin.
“There’ll be flooding by the creeks and rivers. Look what’s happening to the street.”
“Yeah. I can already hear my mom hollering at me to take my boots off before I come in the house.” The kid laughed. “Dad says her floors don’t stand a chance when she’s got three sons and a husband set on tracking them up.”
More thunder rolled in the distance. At least the heavy rain would lessen the likelihood of a range fire started by a lightning strike. After the heat wave of late summer, all could be thankful for that.
“I’ll get the ladder and clean those top shelves like you wanted.”
“Thanks, Jimmy.”
Colin waited a moment, then turned and walked to the back of the store and into his living room. Much as he’d done moments before in the store, his daughter stood at the parlor window; her forehead was pressed against the glass as she stared out at the storm.
“Hey, pumpkin.”
Charity looked over her shoulder. The expression on her face was pained. “We’re not gonna get to ride, are we?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Even if the rain stops soon, it’ll be too muddy.”
“Can I go over to Suzanne’s and Phoebe’s?”
He grinned as he shook his head. “No. The Summervilles don’t want you coming over wet and muddy. You’ll have to spend the day with me.” He crossed the room to stand beside her.
“Miss K went over to the Summervilles’ this morning.”
“She did?”
“Uh-huh. She told me when we were reading last night. I wanted her to go for a ride with us. I figured she could borrow a horse from Mr. Daughtry. Don’t you think he would’ve lent her a horse? But she said she’d be busy this morning.”
Colin looked in the direction of the Summerville home, although he couldn’t see the house from here. “Hope she went before it started to rain.” “She did. I saw her go.”
“Not much escapes you, does it?” He ruffled his daughter’s hair.
She shrugged. “What’re we gonna do if we can’t ride?”
“Why don’t you read that book you got for your birthday?”
“I don’t want to read.”
He’d hoped the evening sessions with Felicia had changed that. Guess it was expecting too much for anything to change this soon.
“Can I go out to the barn to see Princess?”
He looked at the dark sky and pouring rain. “Not until the storm lets up.”
Charity released a dramatic sigh.
“Come on. You can help me do the inventory while there’re no customers in the store.”
“Ah, Papa. I don’t want to—”
“Charity.”
“All right. I’m coming.”
Because of the unrelenting rain, no other women came to Kathleen’s meeting. But if it upset her, she didn’t let on to her mother-in-law or Felicia. She proceeded to make a list of items she thought the Carpenters needed and another list of the women who could probably help and what items they might provide.
The Summervilles would buy denim overalls and a pair of boots for each boy. Also a couple of warm coats for winter, which would soon be upon them. Felicia volunteered to make the boys two shirts apiece. Kathleen thought Nancy Hightower could be depended on to provide two of the beautiful quilts she made. And on went the lists.
When they were finished, Kathleen informed Felicia that she must stay for lunch, and then they would have Elias take her home in their buggy.
“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. It’s only a few blocks.”
“In this rain?” Kathleen rose from her chair. “The hem of your skirt would be caked with mud as soon as you crossed the street. We wouldn’t think of letting you walk home. Would we, Mother Summerville?”
The older woman hesitated a fraction of a second before answering, “Of course not.”
“I’m going to check on the girls, and then I’ll tell Mrs. Hasting to expect one more for lunch.” Kathleen left the parlor.
Alone with Helen, Felicia felt the silence grow awkward. If only the rain would stop, she could insist that she must leave at once. But the rain didn’t stop. It looked as if it might continue for forty days and forty nights.
“More tea, Miss Kristoffersen?”
She pulled her gaze from the window. “No, thank you.”
“Such a dreary day.”
“Yes.”
“You know, Miss Kristoffersen, my daughter-in-law has grown quite fond of you in your short time in Frenchman’s Bluff.”
“I’m fond of her too. It’s nice to have a friend.”
“She thinks you’re doing a fine job as schoolteacher.”
Felicia heard what had gone unsaid—that Helen disagreed with Kathleen. She lifted her chin. “I’m glad she thinks so. Most of the children are doing well with their studies.”
“I wish I knew what they will decide about the cottage and your living situation.”
“I’m sorry. My living situation? To what do you refer?”
“Why, to Kathleen and Mr. Murphy, of course. Kathleen insists they can manage for a short time in the living quarters of the mercantile. But I believe it’s much too small for a couple and three active girls. The cottage wouldn’t be much better. I think they should wait until they build a new home before they marry. And if they choose to use the cottage, what will we do with you? The availability of a separate house has been a definite benefit to potential teachers, given the salary we offer. I hope the change won’t make you want to leave us.”
Marry? Leave?
“Oh dear.” Helen glanced toward the hallway. “Listen to me go on. I shouldn’t have said anything. Kathleen and Mr. Murphy don’t want their engagement known as yet.”
Engagement? Somehow, Felicia found her voice. “Why not?”
“The children. They don’t want to get them all excited about a wedding until they decide where to live and when the wedding will be. Mr. Murphy is a proud man. He won’t allow George to help with the expense of building a new home. He insists, if that’s their decision, on doing it himself, even though we would be pleased to spend whatever is needed. Money is no object for us, as you must know. And after all, our granddaughters deserve to have a good home.”
“I’m sure they’ll have a fine one,” Felicia said softly.
Helen leaned forward at the waist and whispered, “Please don’t tell Kathleen I said anything. It was quite by accident.”
“No. No, I won’t tell her.”
There was no reason a secret engagement between Colin Murphy and Kathleen Summerville should matter to Felicia, beyond hoping they would be very happy together.
And she did hope that for them.
Why wouldn’t she?
NINETEEN
After four days of constant rain and black skies, the streets of Frenchman’s Bluff were a sea of mud. Gloom spread over the whole town. Or
so it seemed.
Charity’s and Colin’s moods were no better than their neighbors’, and the last thing Colin wanted to do after the store closed on Wednesday was stand at the stove to prepare supper. “Grab your umbrella, Charity. We’re going to eat at Miss Caroline’s.”
“Really?” His daughter brightened at once.
“Really.”
The pair of them put on their galoshes and hurried across the street to Miss Caroline’s, the one remaining restaurant in Frenchman’s Bluff. They apparently weren’t the only ones who’d thought dining out was a good idea. More than half of the tables were occupied when they arrived.
“Look!” Charity said. “There’s Suzanne and Phoebe and their mom.”
When Colin’s gaze met with Kathleen’s, she smiled and motioned to the two empty chairs at their table.
“Can we eat with them, Papa?”
A week or so ago, he’d asked himself if raising Charity alone was the best way, and the thought had stayed with him. Maybe this was God’s subtle—or not so subtle—answer to that question. Maybe it was time Colin stopped caring about the gossips in town. Kathleen knew what it was like to lose a spouse. She knew what it was like to raise her children alone. He liked her, and that was a good place to start.
He nodded to Charity, then followed her to Kathleen’s table.
“I’m surprised to see so many braved the rain,” she said as he settled onto the chair opposite her.
“Must be feeling as closed in as I was.”
The waitress came, and everyone ordered Miss Caroline’s meatloaf special.
“It’s my favorite,” Charity told her friends.
“Mine too,” Suzanne and her sister replied in unison.
Colin looked at Kathleen and shrugged. “What can I say? Mine too.”
Kathleen laughed. “I guess we’re all in agreement, then.” She was a pretty woman, especially when amused. It made her brown eyes sparkle.
The restaurant door opened again, letting in a draft of cool, damp air. Kathleen looked past Colin’s shoulder, and he thought he saw a subtle change in her countenance. She’d already looked happy and that didn’t change. Her cheeks had already been slightly flushed from her laughter. Did they seem more so now? He was about to turn to see who it was that had drawn her attention when two men stopped at the end of the table.
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