“Miss Bledsow?” Natalie could still feel where the schoolmarm had whacked her knuckles, even though it was years ago.
Abigail rubbed her own knuckles. “Maybe I’m number three then.” And she gave a small giggle.
“You’ll come to supper?”
Abigail nodded.
Natalie left Abigail with the answer Mama wanted, but Mr. Tate and his friends were gone. Maybe he was talking to Papa. She sighed. Mr. Milton stood close to Papa, deep in conversation. So she walked over and looped her arm through Mama’s. “Miss Leonard said she’d come to supper.”
Willum woke Tuesday morning long before dawn to the school bell ringing a warning. He dressed in a hurry then rushed with Sassy leading the way to the school to see what the ruckus was about. But before he even got there, he saw the glow of the raging fire that consumed several businesses and the church. He smelled the smoke and heard the hungry crackling. Men, women, and children had formed two lines and were passing buckets of water. One line went to the fire’s last victim—the building was only half burned. The other line went to the untouched building next to it, hoping to prevent it from catching fire as well.
There had been no rain since a week ago Monday. Everything had dried out then gone on drying, ripe for fire.
Willum shouted over the roaring to the nearest person, “Is there anyone inside?”
The man shook his head. “Those who live above these businesses got out.”
That was a blessing.
Willum joined the volunteer firemen in setting up the water wagon and hose. What they could use was a nice downpour.
By noon the fire had been reduced to smoldering debris. People milled around in the streets, surveying the damage. Three destroyed businesses and the church.
A dripping ladle appeared before him. “Water?”
He recognized that voice. He reached for the ladle, making sure to reach high enough on the handle to partially cover his benefactor’s hand. Would she move it? Or leave it there? Her hand was cool under his. He wanted to put it to his forehead to cool his face. Holding her hand this way was all he dared in public. Reverend Bollen would never allow a public display of affection.
Once his thirst was quenched and he’d held her hand on the ladle as long as he dared, Willum looked up into Natalie’s rich chocolate eyes. But she was sweeter than any chocolate he’d ever tasted. Her face was sweet. Her smile was sweet. Her heart was sweet. He doubted she knew how to deceive or hurt another person. He’d seen her talking to Miss Abigail Leonard on Sunday. There were precious few who would talk to Abigail outside of a business transaction. She’d hurt too many people. Then there she was at church, and sweet Natalie had befriended her. He knew enough to steer clear of girls like Abigail. She would cast her net for a man and pull him in before he was any the wiser.
“You worked hard here today.”
Her words brought him back to the vision in front of him. “A lot of people did.”
She looked left then right.
Was she anxious about something?
Then she glanced down at his hand, and he did as well. It still covered hers. He released her hand slowly. He evidently hadn’t completed the task when he thought about releasing her hand a few moments ago.
“I’ll see you Wednesday at supper.”
“See you then.” He watched her walk away. Even in a drab gray dress, she looked enchanting.
A hand clasped him on the shoulder. “Looks like you will have plenty of work to keep you busy this summer.”
He turned to his good friend Tuck. The last thing he needed was more work. He needed to finish the house. “I have plenty of work, thank you.”
“Yes, I saw. Have you officially started courting her?”
Willum backhanded Tuck in the stomach. “Not her. Actual work.”
“I saw you two. It’s about time, buddy. I thought your broken heart would never mend. And Natalie is a right fine young lady.”
“She’s so young.”
“You missed the boat on eligible young ladies your age. You let Frederick, E.V., and me woo them first. And we all thank you. Wouldn’t have stood a chance if you were interested in any of ‘em.”
Willum gazed at Natalie offering water to her brother David.
“So, are you courting yet?”
Willum narrowed his eyes at his longtime friend. “Why do you care so much?”
Caught, Tuck rubbed the back of his neck. “Anna will have my hide if I don’t come home with the information. She’s been pestering me all week.”
“Pestering? Just because others expect it isn’t a good reason to start courting any woman.”
“Ah ha. That’s good. You haven’t started courting Natalie yet.” He turned to leave then turned back. “Anna will want to know why you haven’t asked to court her yet, and when you’re going to ask for permission.”
Willum shook his head and walked off. But the question was valid. Why hadn’t he asked to court Natalie … again? He’d asked just over a year ago, when she turned seventeen and he knew she was too young. Now that she was old enough, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Why?
Chapter 3
Willum sat at the Bollens’ table as he had done every Wednesday since he arrived in town. He bowed his head as the reverend blessed those around his table and the food. After the “amens” of nine people echoed, Mrs. Bollen stood and dished up the first bowl of thick bean soup and passed it down the table. Willum took the full bowl and passed it on to Matthew sitting next to him, who passed it on down the table.
Willum avoided eye contact with Natalie sitting directly across from him. He knew she expected him to ask her father tonight to court her. The Reverend Bollen probably expected it, too. Willum didn’t know if he could tonight or not. For the first time in three years he hadn’t wanted to come to Wednesday supper because of his indecision.
But fortunately, he had other business with the reverend. “I checked the church’s rock foundation. It seems solid enough to rebuild on.”
The reverend nodded. “Good. We’ll need to raise money before any construction can start.”
“I drew up plans for a new church building.” Willum passed another bowl along. “They’re rough.”
“I’ll look at them after supper.”
“The plans will let us know just how much money we’ll need to purchase materials.”
Then Natalie spoke up. “Mama and I are planning to organize bake sales to raise money. And we are going to ask the quilting circle to make a quilt for a drawing.”
Willum glanced over at Natalie but looked away before she looked at him with that expectant expression.
Abigail set down her glass of milk. “Where will church be held until the new building is completed?”
Why had Natalie invited her here? She had nearly ruined two of his friends’ chances with their now wives. She had meddled and tried to get between several couples in town. What was innocent Natalie learning from her? To be conniving and manipulative? No. Natalie was sweet and just being nice. Or was Abigail trying to come between him and Natalie?
The reverend took a biscuit and passed the basket on. “Service will be held in the schoolhouse. It will be a little cramped, and I’m afraid people might use that as an excuse to stay home.”
David, the Bollen’s second son, who was a year younger than Willum said, “Do they know what happened? How the fire started?”
Willum buttered his biscuit. “No one is quite sure.”
After supper, the women cleared the table and washed the dishes. Willum sat at the table with the reverend and his three sons, Isaac, David, and Matthew. The paper plans rolled out before them. As they hashed over the details, Willum made notations on the side of the brown paper. He would draw up more accurate plans and bring them back for the reverend’s approval.
Natalie stayed in the kitchen while Papa and the men talked about the new church building. She heard the paper crinkle as it was rolled up, then some hearty good evenings.
&n
bsp; Who was leaving? Wasn’t Mr. Tate going to at least bid her good night? She’d hoped he’d tell her that he’d talked to Papa, and they were now courting.
Isaac called into the kitchen, “Martha, time to go.”
Natalie’s sister-in-law pushed her cumbersome body out of the chair. “I hope this child decides to arrive soon. I want to hold him in my arms. After losing the first one so early, and the second being stillborn, I want to know this one is healthy.”
“Him?” Abigail said.
“Isaac really wants a boy.” She waddled out of the kitchen.
Natalie followed her to say good evening to Mr. Tate. But he was gone.
Had he asked Papa to court her?
“David, would you walk Miss Leonard home?”
David looked from Papa to Abigail standing in the kitchen doorway, then back to Papa. He stood. “Of course.” David did not look like he wanted to, but it was the family’s obligation to see that Abigail arrived home safely. David opened the front door. “Miss Leonard.”
Abigail thanked Natalie’s mother for supper. She seemed genuine. Almost a different person.
“Papa, where’s Mr. Tate?”
Papa looked at her with his sympathetic blue eyes. “He has much work to do.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
Matthew, her brother who was only ten months older than her, wrapped his arm around her neck and rubbed his knuckles in her hair. “Why would he talk about you?”
Natalie wiggled. “Let me go. You’re messing up my hair.”
“Matthew! Let your sister go.”
Matthew released her.
Natalie stood up straight and smoothed her hair. “I’m not nine anymore.”
“Your sister is a young lady, and you must treat her as one.”
“But Papa—”
“Even at home.”
Matthew hung his head like a scolded puppy.
“Now go fill the wood bin in the kitchen for your mama.”
Matthew crossed the room, and once behind Papa, he turned and made a face at Natalie. She desperately wanted to make a face back, but Papa was turned in her direction. He’d called her a lady, so she supposed she should act like one, even at home.
Then she had a horrifying thought. What if Mr. Tate was so comfortable with their family that he thought of her as his sister?
“Papa?”
Papa looked up from stirring the fire. “Yes, child.”
How should she say this? She couldn’t very well come right out and ask if Mr. Tate had discussed courting her. Papa would send her to her room for being so forward. “Papa, since I’m eighteen and you told Matthew that I was a young lady, I thought it would be a good time to ask if … if any young men have asked to court me.”
Papa stood and towered over her, silent. He didn’t look upset. His blue eyes had a bemused twinkle in them.
“Well?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly asked a question. Yours was more of a statement.”
“Papa.”
Papa smiled then and laughed. “Several young men have made such a request. Don’t worry, the young men in Tumwater have taken notice of you. A little more than I would like, I’m afraid.”
“Who, Papa?” Mr. Tate?
The twinkle left Papa’s eyes. “Don’t you worry about that just now. Run along and finish helping your mama in the kitchen.”
She turned and left. She knew when Papa had finished a conversation. No amount of begging would keep him talking. And he’d probably tell her she was being childish. If he thought that, he might suggest she needed to do a bit more growing up before courting, and make her wait until she turned nineteen. Why wouldn’t he just tell her who?
Chapter 4
Over a month had gone by since the church and three businesses in town had burned. The baker, barber, and milliner had reopened their “shops” in canvas tents, but were eager to have solid buildings again. Willum had been hired by all three to work on the construction. The owners collaborated to have one structure that they all owned part of, so they could share the expenses of building. Cheaper for everyone. And easier for Willum to work with all three owners at once. With the construction nearly complete, Willum could focus on the church, which would take longer because they did not have the funds yet.
Working from sunup until sundown on construction of the new business building left Willum fatigued. He had overslept this morning and had to creep into the back of the schoolhouse while the first hymn was already in progress. There was usually a seat available in the last pew. But with the schoolhouse being smaller, he had to stand in the back corner. He yawned and leaned his head back against the wall. Before he knew it the service was over. Lord, forgive me for falling asleep. I guess I’m more exhausted than I realized.
He let the corner hold him up until most of the people had filed out of the building. The reverend and his wife stood at the door to send his flock on their way. Natalie and her brothers were nowhere to be seen.
Willum shook the reverend’s hand then Mrs. Bollen’s.
Mrs. Bollen held onto his hand with her gloved one. “Will you join us for supper this evening?”
Willum swallowed hard. Sunday supper? No one was ever invited to the Bollens’ for Sunday supper. It was for family only. Willum was not family. The significance of the offer was not lost on him. He was being included with the family. If he said yes, they would have expectations of him. If he said no, then what would become of him and Natalie? “I would be honored.”
Mrs. Bollen smiled. “Fine. We’ll see you before six.” She patted his hand and released it.
Willum clicked open his pocket watch. Five fifty-seven. Snapping it closed, he slipped it back into his vest pocket and straightened his jacket. He’d never dressed up for supper with the Bollens before. He’d never felt as though he needed to.
He’d shaved a second time today and tied his shoulder-length hair at the nape of his neck. Should he have gotten it cut? He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be that civilized again just yet. And it was too late to worry about it now. He put his palm out to Sassy to make her stay then took a deep breath and knocked.
When the door opened, Natalie’s smiling face greeted him.
And he knew he’d come to the right place.
At the conclusion of supper, the reverend stood. “Willum, would you take a stroll with me?”
“Of course, sir.”
Natalie smiled eagerly at him.
Sassy darted around sniffing while Willum walked beside the reverend for five minutes in silence. Raising money for the new church building was going a lot slower than the reverend wanted. He had voiced many times that he hoped to have the building complete by the end of the summer. And here they were a week into August and they barely had half the money they needed. Attendance was dropping off as people made excuses for the small, stuffy space. Or did the reverend want to talk about the actual plans for the building? Was he displeased with them? Willum could certainly get started building some of the framing with the money raised so far. Maybe when people saw it starting to take shape, they would contribute more to the building fund. But it was not his place to initiate the conversation. Reverend Bollen was the one to request his presence. He would suffer in silence.
The older man finally spoke. “About Natalie.”
Willum’s throat went dry, and he couldn’t swallow.
“Over a year ago, you asked my permission to court my daughter, rather boldly I might add. I told you then that I would not allow her to be courted until she turned eighteen. She’s been eighteen for two months and quite impatient. Have you lost interest in her?”
“No!” The word flew out of his mouth.
The reverend coughed to cover a chuckle. “May I ask what the delay is?”
Delay? “I’ve been quite busy with the construction in town and the church building project.”
“It only takes a moment to ask. And you have had plenty of opportunities. Inviting you to Sunday supper was no
oversight. Your acceptance or regrets would have told me how important my daughter still is to you. You didn’t turn us down. Yet you are reluctant to ask.”
Willum rubbed the back of his neck. “I was engaged three and a half years ago.”
“I take it that it didn’t end well.”
“If you mean me standing in front of the church in my finest, waiting and humiliated, then, yes, it didn’t end well.”
“What happened to her?”
“She ran off with a man who had a larger wallet than I did. Three days before the wedding! Her family kept it a secret because they were too embarrassed to tell people, and so they let me stand there like a fool. Waiting. I guess they thought it was fair for me to be embarrassed, too.”
“Your heart is afraid to love again.”
Willum shook his head. “I love Natalie.”
“But you are afraid to declare it.”
“I guess I am.”
“It’s difficult to trust with such a wound. There are five men to every woman here. You are not the only one who has expressed interest in courting my daughter.”
Willum’s insides tightened.
The reverend put a hand on his shoulder. “I have thought of you as a son. I would gladly welcome you into the family. But I cannot hold off the other suitors much longer. And Natalie’s patience is wearing thin. You need to decide if you are ready to take a risk.”
Willum nodded. “I’m ready.” He couldn’t lose Natalie. “May I court your daughter?” The moment he voiced the question, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
The reverend’s mouth broke out into a wide grin, and he nodded. “It’s about time, son. Shall we head back so you can tell her the good news?”
Natalie stood by the window, holding the curtain back. Where had Papa gone with Mr. Tate? It shouldn’t take this long to ask one simple question.
Mama sighed. “Honestly, Natalie. It is unfitting for a lady to gape out the window like a miscreant. Come away from there.”
Natalie swung around and into a chair. “Do you think he’s asking Papa right now?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
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