by Linda Ford
Plump Mrs. Tipple sidled close to the pair. She darted a glance toward Sally and leaned in close. “You allow that man a lot of free rein in your yard. Aren’t you the least bit concerned?”
Abe drew himself rigid in righteous indignation, although Mrs. Tipple seemed oblivious to it.
“He has done nothing to give me cause for concern. In fact, he is partially responsible for the games and the surprise yet to come.”
Mrs. Tipple tried to appear regretful. “I admire your charity, Abe, but a con man is known to be charming. You must be cautious. After all, you have two young children and need I point out…an impressionable young woman?”
Abe shot Sally a startled look, which she pretended not to see as she developed a sudden interest in the way one of the children held the lariat. Would the unkind comments cause Abe to reconsider hiring Linc? The panic catching at her stomach made it difficult to straighten from her task. Her concern was only on Linc’s behalf. He’d told her he needed the money he earned here to pay for his father’s pain medication.
Abe shifted his gaze away, but Sally didn’t relax. She couldn’t, not knowing Linc’s fate.
“I appreciate your concern.” Abe spoke slowly. “But I’m sure you feel as I do. That a man should be judged fairly. No evidence. No crime. God warns us, ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged.’ I’m sure none of us wishes to be condemned without evidence.”
Sally’s breath whooshed out. Abe was truly a good and righteous man.
Mrs. Anthony and the others murmured agreement, and Mrs. Tipple wisely withdrew, though Sally guessed from her expression she hadn’t changed her mind.
At that moment, Robbie screamed. “A pony! You brought a pony! Can I ride it?”
Everyone’s attention turned toward Linc as he marched across the yard leading a black and white pony. The children raced toward him. The adults drew in a collective gasp of surprise.
Abe grinned satisfaction at Sally. She flashed him a shy smile then turned her attention to Linc and the children. “Everyone line up and you can take turns riding. Mr. McCoy will lead him around for you. The birthday boy can go first.”
Robbie needed no nudging. If only he would obey every suggestion so eagerly.
The other games instantly forgotten, the children lined up and waited for their turn. As soon as Linc lifted one off the pony’s back, that child hurried back to the end of the line for another ride.
The sun dropped toward the west and still the children wanted to ride the pony, but Sally had sandwiches and cake to serve. The mothers had begun to grow restless. They had family obligations at home, and being a Saturday, baths to supervise and Sunday clothes to put out.
Sally clapped her hands. “Children, the pony is getting tired. He needs to rest. Why don’t you come indoors for sandwiches and cake?”
They would have refused, but Linc held up his hands to signal the end of riding the animal. “Our pony needs something to eat and drink, and so do you. Run along now.”
Amid a flurry of disgruntled murmurs, Linc led the pony out the back gate into the McCoy yard. Reluctantly, the children trooped inside, washed up and gathered around the table. But hunger had its place, and they wolfed down sandwiches and cake.
Sally passed Robbie his gifts. He received an assortment of crayons, coloring books, storybooks and balls. Sally had chosen two metal trucks for him. Abe presented him with a Meccano set. Robbie looked at the perforated metal strips and nuts and bolts as if the toy was broken.
“It’s a building set,” Abe explained. “I’ll show you how to use it later.”
“Thanks. Thanks everyone,” Robbie said. “This is the best birthday ever.”
The children cheered their agreement. Sally knew a moment of sweet victory.
Shortly afterward the guests departed amid a flurry of more “thank yous.” As soon as the door closed behind the last one, Robbie headed for the back door.
“Where are you going?” Abe asked.
“To help Linc with the pony.”
“He’s gone home. I think you better stay here.”
Robbie skidded to a halt. “Aw.” He seemed about ready to defy his father.
Sally leaned over and spoke softly. “The pony needs his rest.”
Robbie nodded, not eager to accept the inevitable.
“Come, Robbie,” Abe said. “I’ll show you how to use the Meccano set.”
Robbie’s expression said he didn’t expect to have any fun, but he and Abe were soon creating something.
Sally cleaned up the kitchen. “I’m headed for home now,” she said when the last dishes were put away.
Abe glanced up. “Thank you for the party.”
Robbie bounced to his feet and ran to her. He threw his arms about her and hugged hard. “Thank you for the best party ever.”
Her eyes glassed over with moisture as she hugged him back. “I’m glad you had fun.” She couldn’t look at Abe, embarrassed by her emotions, and simply called goodbye to them all, then slipped out the back door.
Instead of heading directly home, she went out the gate toward the McCoy place. Linc had made this all possible, and she meant to thank him.
She followed the sound of his singing into the barn where he watched the pair of horses. The pony had been brushed until his coat gleamed. Big Red allowed the smaller animal to share the hay in the manger.
Linc turned at her approach. “Party over?” He lounged against the corner of the pen, completely at ease.
She envied his ability to relax even when life was rather messy for him. It made her feel she lacked something. But she couldn’t think what it could be and dismissed the thought. “Everyone is gone home, and the debris is cleaned up.” She stopped at his side. Close enough to feel the heat from his body, but not touching. She knew something in her connected to him in a way she had never before experienced. The intensity of the unnamed, unacknowledged emotion frightened her. It must be denied. So she kept a space between them while allowing herself to stand close enough to feel him with every twitching nerve. “It was a great party. Thank you for making it possible.”
“It was fun.” He uncrossed his leg and planted both feet firmly on the floor. “Are you headed home now?”
“Yes. It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
It wasn’t a question, so Sally didn’t answer. If she were honest with herself, she would admit she welcomed his company. Only, she excused herself, because she wanted to discuss the party. Share her sense of success.
He unwound himself from the post and they headed into the bright sun of the late afternoon.
She told him about Robbie’s expression of appreciation.
“You’re pleased with how it turned out?”
“Yes.” Abe seemed pleased, too, but she didn’t say so.
Their feet created little brown clouds of dust as they walked along the dry road. There had been only a hint of rain this spring. The hopeful farmers put their carefully hoarded bit of grain in the ground, but nothing had come up. Nothing would until rain came.
“The children certainly enjoyed the pony,” Linc said after a few minutes of pleasant quiet. “They seemed to have fun with the games, too.”
“It was a great day all around.” She lifted her head. The orphanage windows flashed the reflection of the slanting rays of the sun. She slowed her steps. Linc realized she had fallen behind and stopped, turned, his expression concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s not wrong. It’s right.” She stared at the orphanage. “That was a great party. According to Robbie and his friends, the best ever. Seems a shame not to share it with some other children.”
He followed the direction of her gaze. “You mean—”
“Yes. The children at the orphanage. Wouldn’t that be a great surprise for them?”
Linc chuckled softly, a sound like a gentle breeze through trees. It brought her gaze to him. His eyes were warm a
s the sunshine, silently admiring her. She felt heat steal up her neck and pool in her cheeks at the way he looked at her, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“I think they would enjoy it immensely. Who do we get permission from to do this?”
He’d fallen in with her suggestion without one word of dissent, assuming they would do it together. It was like having someone read her heart. Her insides warmed to match her cheeks. “I’ll ask the matron, but she won’t object. She’ll be pleased as can be that the children will have this opportunity.”
Linc stood at her side, shoulder to shoulder as they looked toward the orphanage. She felt his eagerness match her own. “How many children are there?”
“Twelve.”
“There’s a lot more room out there, so I’ll borrow more ponies and we’ll make games the same as Robbie’s party.”
“I’ll make a big cake.”
“I wish I could buy them each a gift.”
Sally’s pleasure at the generous idea filled her heart. “I don’t think they will mind not having gifts.”
“But—”
How her heart grew at his concern for these children. “Maybe we could think of something simple. Something we could make.” She tried to think of something, but was distracted by the studious consideration on his face.
“Something small so they could each have one.” He crossed his arms and studied the problem. Suddenly he brightened and faced her. “I could make little cars and trucks for the boys.”
“I could make dolls for the girls.”
His expression brightened with another idea. “Could you make tiny dolls?”
“I guess so. Why?”
“If Abe will let me use the leftover scraps of lumber in the shed, I could build a dollhouse.”
She beamed at him. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
They moved on, brimming with ways to make the party even better than Robbie’s. Her turnoff was only a few yards away. She didn’t want this time to end, nor did she want her enjoyment ruined by Mother’s comments. “Will you attend church tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there with my grandmother if Pa is resting so we can leave.”
She stopped. This was where they must part ways. If only it didn’t have to be. She stifled the thought before it could take root in her brain. But her thoughts proved to be stubborn today. When she was with Linc, something inside her broke free. There were many things she wanted to tell him, hopes and dreams to share.
Linc looked down at her, his eyes full of hope and promise and— “I better get back to town and take care of Pa.” He touched the brim of his hat in a goodbye salute.
Regret. She saw it as clearly as she felt it, an echo of her own heart. Despite her resolve to keep her thoughts reined in, her insides suddenly flooded with secret joy that he didn’t want this to end any more than she did.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, if all goes well.” He stepped back but didn’t turn toward town.
She realized he waited for her to take the first step that would send them on different journeys. She inched backward. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow.”
A promise pouring joy into her heart.
She spun around, lest he see the evidence in her face. Only once did she glance back. He sketched a salute as he headed toward town.
Tomorrow seemed a long way off.
She didn’t realize how much her expression gave away until she stepped into the house. Mother stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyes steady and observant.
“That man walked you home again.”
“Yes.” Guilt clawed into her heart, ruthlessly destroying her happiness.
“Does Abe know how much time you spend with that man?”
“‘That man’ has a name. Linc McCoy. And we were doing nothing to give Abe concern. In fact, we were discussing—”
Mother cut her off. “You better take a good look at what you are doing. Are you willing to risk Abe’s displeasure for the company of this man?”
She wouldn’t even speak his name. As if it was soiled. Sally knew better. Linc was a good man. Ready to help orphans. Willing to take care of his injured father. Concerned about his grandmother. But Mother saw none of the facts, nor would she welcome the words from Sally’s mouth. “It was perfectly innocent.”
Mother studied her solemnly, but Sally refused to squirm under her examination. They had done nothing wrong. Forbidden thoughts and wishes didn’t count unless they were acted upon, and Sally didn’t intend they should be.
Mother finally relented. “Very well. Just be a little more circumspect.”
Sally went to the table and picked up a sock to darn. “I don’t know what you mean.” And she didn’t. She and Linc had done nothing wrong. And what they did was in the open for everyone to see. And judge.
How would Abe judge them if he’d walked behind them?
Her cheeks stung with heat, and she bent her head so Mother wouldn’t see. If he could read her thoughts he would have cause to wonder if she would make a suitable wife, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t done her best to control her thoughts. In the future she must do a better job.
“Robbie said it was the best birthday party ever. All the children seemed to have fun. Abe said I did a good job. He was pleased.” He’d defended Linc against sly accusations.
The tension across her shoulders eased. Abe would understand and approve of Sally offering Linc friendship and acceptance. “Abe believes we shouldn’t judge people without evidence. He almost scolded Mrs. Tipple for saying things that cast suspicion on Linc’s reputation.”
Mother joined her at the table and took up another stocking to darn. “Abe is a good man.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I hope you won’t forget it.”
“Mother.” She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t intend to forget it.” But Linc was a good man, too. She felt connected to him more than Abe. But then, what did she expect? She and Linc had worked together on a project that gave them both pleasure. Once she and Abe married and they spent more time together, things between them would change. They’d find things they were both keen about, like the children. She would not allow the thought demanding to know what else they had in common.
Abe was a good man with a solid reputation. He could give her what she needed. The safety and security she’d lost when her father died. She recognized a flaw in her reasoning, but would not examine what it was or what it meant.
Linc strode back to town. He found a small stone and kicked it ahead of him for several steps until it rolled into the ditch.
He’d almost asked her if he might accompany her to church. But he’d bitten back the request. She couldn’t sit with him. She was more than half promised to Abe. They could only share the common goal of giving the orphanage children a special day. A smile curved his lips and eased through his insides. They had to build games, make toys. He would cut out the trucks and cars and small wooden dolls to fit in a dollhouse. She’d paint them and dress the dolls. Of necessity, they must work together to coordinate this party.
The idea settled into his thoughts like sweet tea.
The next morning Pa took his pain medication and slept. He seemed more comfortable these past few days. Linc wanted to believe it meant he was healing inside and would recover, even though the doctor offered no such hope.
He and his grandmother went to church together. Grandmama sat fifth row back on the right side, just as she had when he’d accompanied her six years ago. He sat beside her and glanced around.
Heads turned his way. Some people nodded a greeting. Just as many jerked away or gave him a hard warning stare as if to say, “We’re watching you. You don’t need to think you’ll get away with anything this time.” Grandmama, as aware as he of the murmur of disapproval rippling through the crowd, took his hand and squeezed it.
“God sees the heart,” she murmured.
It should be enough. It had to be. But he felt like he’d been branded on the forehead w
ith the giant letter G, for guilty. Though he’d done nothing. Nor had his father and brother. Seems not everyone was ready to believe his innocence.
Abe came in with Carol and Robbie, scrubbed and in their best. They sat two rows from the front on the left, allowing Linc a good view of them. Abe looked neither to the right nor the left. He faced ahead and his children did likewise, though Robbie squirmed until Abe quieted him with a hand on his shoulder.
Abe had given Linc a job despite the rumbles of disapproval from the sainted men and women of the church. Linc owed him for the welcome he’d offered. He was a good man. The sort who could give Sally the things she needed. Things unavailable to a man who carried an undeserved but unrelenting bad reputation.
He shifted his gaze to the cross carved into the front of the pulpit. God accepted him. God knew his heart. But a part of him longed for more. Acceptance. Not by those squirming in the pews around him. But acceptance that made him able to think of marriage, a home and a family.
He’d never find it here with the cloud hanging over his family name. Things were different to the west in the ranching country. As soon as his pa was well, he’d return to that area. This time he’d find a place of his own, and a sweet woman to court.
The idea didn’t ease his mind. In fact, it sat cold and lonely in his thoughts.
Sally wasn’t in the church. He didn’t have to turn around to know. The most obvious clue was that she didn’t sit at Abe’s side. But even without that information, he knew because of the emptiness he felt.
Suddenly the emptiness flooded with light. He smiled and glanced over his shoulder. She came down the aisle behind him and sat with an older woman, one row back and across from where he sat with Grandmama. He could almost reach out and touch her. He settled for a smile and nod of greeting.
The older woman’s look was less than welcoming. It must be Sally’s mother. Perhaps his glance had been more revealing than he meant. He quickly faced forward again. He gaze fell on Abe. Linc sat up straighter. Why hadn’t Sally and Abe sat together? His spine softened.
They probably didn’t think it appropriate until they made a formal announcement.