New Man in Town

by Lyn Cote

  Thea looked up, startled. “How?”

  “Child, you have no business sense at all. Parents bring their young children and drop them off at our home for their lessons. There is only a low rail fence between the camp and our property. With those kinds of boys loose just next door, parents won’t feel safe to leave their children!” A red flush flared out on each of her grandmother’s white cheeks.

  Alarmed at this sign of agitation, Thea stood up. “Please calm yourself.”

  “And the fishermen who rent our cabins each summer leave their valuables in the cabins and their cars.” Her grandmother’s voice slurred more as her agitation increased.

  “Please, this will all work itself out” Thea turned to go to the wall intercom to call a nurse.

  A nursing aide entered. “Mrs. Lowell, I’m here to take you to your weekly physical therapy.”

  Grateful for the interruption, Thea kissed her grandmother a hasty goodbye. Grandmother, still looking dissatisfied, allowed herself to be wheeled away.

  Then alone in the solarium, Thea threw away the two uneaten caramel rolls. She’d lost her appetite. Was this all a tempest in a teapot as she had hoped, or would it harm her ability to support herself and supplement the last of her grandmother’s annuities?

  Peter’s dream sounded so generous and good, but her father had warned her over and over how people with good intentions could still make errors in judgment. Had her own judgment been affected by Peter’s obvious charm and good looks? Could Grandmother be right?

  Her stomach churned. Closing her eyes, she silently recited the beginning of the Twenty-Third Psalm, “The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.”

  As always, it brought the mental picture of her lakeside home. She sighed. She wouldn’t take time to do the few errands in town she had planned. She’d go directly home and have a few minutes of peace before her first piano student came.

  She walked outside in deep thought. The cold wind eagerly swooped down on her. She buttoned her jacket and pulled up the collar. Snatches of Mr. Crandon’s, Mrs. Chiverton’s and her grandmother’s words swirled inside her mind. She fought against their effect on her. For once in her life, wouldn’t it be wonderful just to stay out of a controversy? But she had a strong feeling she wouldn’t be allowed this luxury.

  She glanced down to find her keys in her purse. When she looked up, Peter stood blocking her way.

  Chapter Three

  Shivering slightly, Peter watched Thea round the corner of the one-story, redbrick retirement center. With her head down as if she were worried, she moved toward him seeming unconscious of her natural grace.

  He waited for her to glance up. When she did, she looked startled like the doe he’d surprised along the road on his way to town.

  “Hi, Thea.” Unaccountably he felt thirteen again.

  “Peter?” She stared at him.

  He took a step forward. “I wanted to thank you for playing Paul Revere this morning.”

  “What?” She paused. “Oh, I see.” She looked down and pushed her hands into her pockets.

  He tried to read her mood. She appeared so remote today. He grinned remembering how she’d looked a few days ago with a shrieking baby in her arms. Yes, he’d seen the cool Miss Glenheim ruffled that day.

  When she glanced up, her eyes narrowed. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “The waitress told me as I was leaving.”

  “Why would she do that?” She gave him a bewildered look.

  “Maybe because I asked her?” He smiled. “I always like to keep track of where attractive women may be found.”

  Her eyes widened.

  Oh, no, I blew it. “I’m sorry. I should have known. You’re already dating someone. Probably a guy you’ve known since kindergarten.”

  “What are you talking about?” The wind wafted her long hair forward. Avoiding his eyes, she smoothed it back from her face.

  How did she make a commonplace gesture elegant?

  He shoved his chilled hands into his pockets. “All right. Let’s start over.”

  She tilted her head, giving him the barest of smiles. “Do you say that often?”

  He grinned. “I love a dry sense of humor.” He glanced around, then reached for her arm. “Let’s walk.”

  She must have read the exasperation in his look. She took a step back.

  Leaning forward, he muttered heatedly, “Don’t look now, but there are, at least, a half dozen little old women gawking at us through the glass doors of the entrance.”

  She closed her eyes for just a moment, then sighed with resignation. “Follow me. We’ll take a walk toward the bike trail. It’s the only place nearby where our conversation won’t be on display.”

  “Lead on.” He tamped down his aggravation. That the town was filled with nosy people wasn’t Thea’s fault.

  She turned and hurried east toward the rear of the retirement center.

  He followed, admiring the straightness of her spine and the swing of her long legs.

  She led him to the end of the parking lot, then past a cluster of evergreens onto a narrow gravel path that crunched under their feet.

  “This is the bike trail?” He looked around with interest.

  “It dips into town near here.” She pivoted and raised one eyebrow. “Now, what did you want?”

  Feeling as though he’d turned a corner and run facefirst into a spiderweb, he gave her a questioning glance. He’d come expecting a friendly chat, but this didn’t sound like the start of one. “You’ve changed. Are you sure you’re the woman who gave me the warning at the café?”

  She met his gaze for a moment, then shivered. “Let’s walk. It’ll help us keep warm.” Without waiting for his reply, she started off briskly.

  A vague warning, an uneasiness slithered its way through him. He caught up with her. “What’s wrong?”

  Keeping her gaze forward, she replied, “I had no idea you were going to change things at the camp.”

  “I’m not changing much. It’s still going to be a boys’ camp.” He kept up with the brisk pace she set.

  “Don’t beg the question. You are making a big change.”

  “I don’t see it that way. Why do you?” Along with the cold, sharp air, he breathed in her pleasant scent—Lily of the Valley, one of his mother’s favorite flowers. The light floral fragrance suited her fair complexion and delicate features.

  “You need to see it. You’ve got to recognize what you’ve started.”

  He halted and glanced at her. “What do you mean by that?”

  She paused with him, then started walking again. “Don’t you understand? You’re like a really big rock dropped into a tiny pond. Did you think you could come here, make changes, and create no waves at all?”

  He detected a touch of irritation in her voice. Why would his camp upset her? “But what I’m doing at the camp won’t affect anyone else.” He jammed his hands into his pockets again. “I should have packed my gloves. Is it always this cold here in April?”

  She ignored his second question. “How can you be so certain your camp won’t affect anyone?”

  Her steady tone made him hold back a phrase intended to brush her question aside. Lord, what am I missing? Is she reacting to me or the camp? Annoyed, he took the effort to keep his tone reasonable. “Well, you live next door and it won’t affect you.”

  “It won’t?” she said in a shocked voice. “After what you heard this morning, you still think something like this won’t affect me?”

  “I don’t get it.” Tension crept into his voice. “You’ll be at your place. The campers and I will be at mine. What’s the problem?”

  “My grandmother doesn’t see it that way. She says parents won’t want to drop off their children at my place for piano lessons if you have a camp of highrisk boys next door.”

  “Nonsense. Your grandmother is probably a lovely person, but your pia
no students won’t be in any danger.” He smiled at her reassuringly.

  She shook her head. “You don’t even understand what you’ve set in motion.”

  “I don’t?” In spite of his words, he felt anger flare inside him. Again he fought to keep his cool. Is this just exaggeration or is there something here I need to know?

  “I tried to warn you at my home. In a situation like this, facts don’t matter that much.”

  “What?” Gently he swung her toward him by her shoulder, halting her, then planted his hands on his hips. How could she say that? “You’re not making sense.”

  She was tall enough to look him straight in the eye.

  He liked that. When she spoke, sincerity radiated from her. But as he watched her, she erased all emotion from her face. His irritation was riding him hard. How could she do that? Just stand there, deep inside herself?

  She spoke patiently, “Some people aren’t interested in facts. They’re interested only in what they think is true.”

  Her words came out as puffs of white in the chilled sunshine. The temperature must be dropping.

  Frowning and disgruntled, he studied her for a few moments, sifting through her words, grappling with them, trying not to resist their import. “You mean facts aren’t important here. Perception is.”

  “Exactly. It doesn’t matter if the boys at your camp would be a danger to my students or not. What matters is if the parents believe their children are in danger and stop bringing them for lessons.”

  “But that’s foolishness.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Just because of rumors, you’ll go along with people who don’t care? These boys need help.” His words were provocative and he didn’t try to soften them.

  She began pacing on the path in front of a blue spruce. “This is not about you and me. People here care about kids, but their own kids come first. You don’t understand how powerful gossip can be in a small community like this.”

  “I don’t get you.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “You helped me, coached me at The Café. I saw you!”

  She stopped and turned toward him. “Of course. I wouldn’t let anyone walk into a pack of wolves without calling out a warning. Besides, I hoped you would be able to head off the gossip.”

  “I tried to, but Mr. Crandon and his crew didn’t want to let me!” Anger was getting the best of him.

  “I know.” She folded her hands tightly.

  His mind ran over all the years of saving, planning and praying he’d endured to come this far. He couldn’t believe he’d be opposed so close to victory. “Can’t you see that I’m right and they’re wrong! If you stood with me as my closest neighbor, we could head this off.”

  “I’m not like you. I hate wrangling.”

  “They just don’t understand. Help me explain this to them.”

  She shook her head. “What I think doesn’t matter to people like Mr. Crandon. You’re what people call a mover and shaker. You came here expecting no opposition, but there’s going to be opposition. Now you’ll just have to see it through or give up.”

  “I don’t give up. Not when I know this is what the Lord has led me to do. Whether the people here want it or not, God wants this camp here.” He felt belligerent.

  A strand of perfectly golden brown hair blew in front of her face. Distracted, he nearly brushed it off her cheek. She still managed to remain serene. This drew him as much as her elegance.

  Calming himself, he let his gaze rove over the tall evergreens that lined the trail as though guarding them from prying eyes. This could make me paranoid. Lord, have I taken a wrong turn or is this just a test?

  If he couldn’t persuade this gentle woman, how could he begin to sway anyone else here? His frustration came through in his tone. “Are you going to back me or not, Thea?”

  She pressed her folded hands to her mouth briefly. “If people ask me, I’ll give them honest answers. I won’t go along with the gossip or irrational fears. But if you can’t somehow neutralize it, it will affect everyone near you, me included.”

  “Then fight it with me!”

  She looked down at the path. “We’re different people. You make waves. I don’t. You’re a stranger. I was born here and have lived here my whole life.”

  “So?”

  “I support myself and my grandmother through my music and by renting out three fishing cabins on our land. I live on a tight budget and I must help keep up the center’s fees for my grandmother’s care. I’m not independently wealthy.”

  “Neither am I.” He thought about the cost of all the improvements for the camp, including the two buses he needed.

  “I didn’t say you were, but you said you have business in Milwaukee.” Her voice grew stronger. “Your income doesn’t depend on this boys’ camp, does it?”

  He shook his head no. But my income alone won’t support the camp, either.

  “I live and work on the land my greatgrandfather bought before the turn of the century.” Her love of home broke through her quiet manner, raising her voice in the winterlike stillness. “I’m part of this town. This place is my home. If this blows up and people start boycotting my property because it’s next to your camp, I can’t just pack up and go elsewhere. I’ll be forced to weather the storm. You have to take the community into consideration.”

  Her love of home touched him and drained away his anger. He already loved his camp with the same devotion. He’d dreamed of this camp over half his life. “You can’t expect me just to give up!”

  “Becoming upset won’t help.” She studied him.

  Looking away, he acknowledged the tangle of irritated emotions within himself. Though he wanted to vent his anger, he held his peace trying to think. He’d already “lost it” with the old people at The Café. He couldn’t lose it with this lovely and wise woman. Lord, I never expected anything like this. A few moments of silence passed between them. “But—”

  She held up her hand. “I think you’re used to easily persuading people to go along with your ideas. That isn’t going to happen here. You’re going to have to work at it.”

  She wove her fingers together and held them toward him. “This is a small town. Our lives are intertwined. You say your camp won’t affect me. Can you guarantee that?”

  He stared at her, sobered. “No.” He cocked his head to the side, observing how the pale sunlight glinted in her hair. Her unmistakable concern for him, in spite of her belief that his camp would cause her trouble, moved him. At least she took his plans seriously. If Alanna had, matters might have ended differently for them.

  She nodded, looking sad, then murmured, “I have to get home.” She turned and began walking back toward the parking lot.

  Peter followed, mulling over everything he’d heard this morning. He’d been able to dismiss the dustup in The Café because of the calm good sense Pastor Carlson had spoken to him over a cup of coffee.

  He had sought out Thea because he wanted to thank her and he’d wanted to pursue her acquaintance. But now all the points this self-contained woman had made so calmly spelled trouble for him, for his mission, his dream.

  His vision had always been clear. This camp coming up for sale this year had seemed an answer to prayer. Had he misjudged things?

  He felt drained, as though they had sprinted, not walked. “Do you have any suggestion about how I could neutralize this opposition?”

  She stopped and gazed at the gravel path. “It would have been good if you could have involved the community in the decision, gotten some key people on your side. I’m sorry. I told you, in a small town, things you never thought would bother anyone can start a battle. And the results can be dreadful.” She shivered. “This wouldn’t be the first war in Lake Lowell.”

  Wearing a gray wool suit, Thea began to lay out her Sunday morning sheet music on the pipe organ at the front of the church.

  “Thea?” A familiar booming voice hit her from behind.

  Thea turned and faced Mrs. Magill who wore her Sunday outfit, a
shapeless navy suit and clean white sneakers.

  “We’ve got that organ meeting in the basement now.”

  Thea frowned. “I know Pastor Carlson wants me to attend, but I’ll have to play the prelude before the service soon.”

  “You’ve got to be there. I know you always try to squirm out of committee work, but no more.” The old woman pointed toward the basement staircase in the foyer of the church decorated in off-white and rich maple. “Let’s get this over with.” The old woman lumbered down the two steps, then up the aisle.

  Thea trailed after her. Mrs. Magill was right. Thea didn’t like being on committees. In fact, so far she had successfully avoided them completely. But she hadn’t thought anyone had noticed this omission on her part. She just didn’t like meetings. She’d hated the way her grandmother had always made certain she dominated every committee she’d ever taken part in. The cutting remarks Grandmother had made to the other members at the meetings hadn’t been nearly as bad as those she made about them at home afterward.

  Thea picked up her pace and marched after Mrs. Magill down the steps to the basement. A few children in their Sunday best clustered, chattering around their Sunday School teachers who were unpacking workbooks and crayons at low tables. Little Tracy, holding one of her twin brother’s hands, stopped Thea. Thea stooped momentarily to greet Tracy and pat the baby’s cheek. With a smile, Thea waved bye-bye to them and hurried after Mrs. Magill.

  Thea and Mrs. Magill halted in the immaculate church kitchen. The other members of the committee waited around the table—Vickie Earnest, Nan Johnson with one twin on her lap, and finally Mrs. Chiverton. Thea sighed inwardly. At least she wasn’t doomed to listen to the two old women wrangle all alone. After years of giving weekly piano lessons to their children, Thea felt at ease with Nan and Vickie.

  Sitting down near the end of the table, as far from the others as she could without being thought impolite, Thea felt hemmed in by white kitchen cupboards and cornered by the four other committee members.

  Her memory dredged up the fleeting, unpleasant impressions of all the committee meetings her grandmother had led at home and here at church. I’ll just sit here very quietly and this will be over before I know it.