“Hannah.” Martha Cavanaugh stepped in front of her, no warmth coming from her voice. “Don’t make the rest of us look bad again. Some of us need this job.”
“Yes, and I’m one of them.” Hannah offered a sweet smile. “If you need any help with your studies, Martha, let me know. You can always study with Rosie and me.” She nudged Rosie, and they left a gaping Martha in their wake.
“Why’d you offer to do that?” Rosie asked.
“My mother always said to render a blessing rather than a curse.”
“Well, I can almost guarantee you someone is still doing some cursing.”
“Rosie! I’m shocked.”
“What? I’ve known her all my life. Martha learned how to rule the sandbox by the end of first grade.”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t think she’ll give me any trouble.”
“You may have been as sweet as pie back there, but mark my words, Martha Cavanaugh has your name at the top of her ‘least favorites’ list.”
“Maybe she’ll forget about it.”
Rosie shook her head. “She never forgets.”
Great. And with my luck, she’ll remember at the most inopportune moment.
11
Charlotte couldn’t believe her ears. Dreamy-eyed George Donnelly had actually asked if he could walk her, the new girl, home from school.
After forcing her smile not to betray her fluttering heart, Charlotte nodded. “I guess that would be all right.”
He took her books and stacked them on his own. “You live on Chestnut Street, right?”
She nodded. Oh my stars, he knows where I live. “I … I have to wait for my little sister.”
“Really? Are you sure?” He frowned. “I need to get to baseball practice, but I guess we can wait if we have to.”
George didn’t seem at all pleased to wait, despite what he said. What if he decided to go on without her? An invitation from someone like George didn’t come every day. Besides, she wasn’t Tessa’s nursemaid. Her sister was old enough to take care of herself.
She tilted her head to the side. “I guess Tessa will be fine. She can find her own way home.”
A broad smile creased his face. “Good. Let’s go then.”
The six-block walk might as well have been on air, and it was over much too soon. She’d learned George was an only child and had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He laughed with ease and had no trouble expressing his opinions. And his grass-green eyes? They were as lethal as any weapons, and he knew how to use them.
When she reached the top of the porch steps, she turned to George and held out her hands for her books. “Thank you for walking me home. I enjoyed it.”
George held the books tight against his hip. “Why don’t you come watch my practice?”
“Now? I can’t. I need to make dinner.”
“You should make one of your sisters do it.”
She laughed. “Tessa isn’t much of a cook yet, and I can’t make Hannah do anything. She’d tell me I should do what I’m asked.”
“She’s not your mother.”
“No.” Charlotte let out a long breath. “But she feels responsible for us, and she’s working hard to give us a home. I want to do what I can to help.”
He shrugged and passed the stack of books her way. “The way I see it, she expects you to take your mother’s place in the kitchen—like hired help. I guess I was hoping for more. I’ll see you around.”
“At school tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Bye.” She waved her fingers at him as he turned. With his shoulders slumped, he looked so dejected her heart squeezed. Maybe he was right. Her sister expected too much from her. Hannah hadn’t thought twice about leaving them the other day to go see Lincoln Cole. Why should things be different for Charlotte? Shouldn’t she have the opportunity to spend time with a boy?
“George, wait. Let me put these inside, and I’ll go with you after all.”
Smoke billowed from the kitchen. Hannah threw down her books and raced into the room to find Tessa removing a charred pan from the oven. Tessa dropped the pan in the sink and shoved the oven door shut with the toe of her shoe. She pumped water onto the charred contents, and smoke rose with a hiss.
“What happened? Where’s Charlotte?”
Tessa wiped her hands on a flour-dusted apron. “Heaven knows. She left me a note that said to make supper.”
“You?”
Tessa jutted out her chin. “I can cook.”
The remains of the biscuits slid out of the pan in a congealed black blob, but Hannah chose not to point out the serious doubts she had about her youngest sister’s cooking abilities at the moment. “I mean, why isn’t Charlotte cooking dinner? Is she ill?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”
“Didn’t you see Charlotte after school?”
“No, she didn’t wait for me. Here’s the note she left.” Tessa snagged a piece of paper off the table and thrust it at Hannah. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some stew to stir before it goes the unfortunate way of the biscuits.”
Hannah read the missive. It was so unlike Charlotte not to fulfill her obligations. Where Hannah struggled with rules, Charlotte was a rule keeper. She wouldn’t take off without a good reason. Something had to be wrong.
“Tess, listen. I’m going to go look for Charlotte. If she comes back—” The front door banged open, and Hannah’s heart skipped. Thank you, Lord, for bringing her home. “Charlotte?”
Her middle sister breezed into the house with a wide smile on her face. She walked straight to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk.
Hannah frowned. Charlotte hadn’t even commented on the acrid smoke still lingering in the air. “Where have you been, and why did you have Tessa make supper?”
“I went somewhere with a friend.” Charlotte plucked a cookie from the jar on the counter. “Besides, it shouldn’t be my job to cook every day. It’s only fair we share the responsibility for meals.”
“That may be so, but you don’t go changing the plans willy-nilly, and you can’t leave Tessa making meals unsupervised. She’s not ready for that.”
“And where were you after school?” Tessa pointed at her sister with a stew-dripping spoon.
“Tessa! Watch what you’re doing.” Charlotte pointed to the spot on the floor.
Hannah wiped the spot with a cloth. “You had me worried. I was about to go looking for you.”
“Oh, good grief, Hannah. I went out with a friend for one afternoon. It isn’t like I burned the house down.” She sniffed the air. “But it smells like Tessa sure tried.”
“Charlotte, what’s gotten into you? Who is this friend?”
Another smile blossomed on Charlotte’s face, and her cheeks pinked. “Only the most handsome boy in my class. His name is George Donnelly. He asked me to go watch his baseball practice. I’m sorry, Hannah. I know I should have told him no, but he made so much sense at the time, and he looked so sad when I said I couldn’t join him.”
“So you left the note and went anyway—even though you knew we’d be upset with you?”
Charlotte gave a weak smile. “If you saw his dreamy eyes, you’d understand.”
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do this again, Charlotte. It’s not fair to make us worry. Now help Tessa finish supper. I have a test to study for.”
Charlotte lifted her apron from a hook on the back of the door and draped it over her shirtwaist. “Your work is always the most important, isn’t it?”
“Did George say that too?” Hannah shook her head in disbelief. This wasn’t the Charlotte who’d left this morning. Hannah was beginning to think she didn’t like this George boy one bit. “Yes, my work is important. If I don’t pass, we don’t eat, and we’re all in this together, remember?”
Hannah received no immediate response, but she heard her sister mumble as she left the room. What would her mother and father have done about this George? While her mothe
r probably would have given Charlotte time to discern this young man’s character for herself, her father most likely would have run him off with a shotgun. Hannah chuckled. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to like the way her father thought.
12
“Num-bah, puh-leez.” Hannah stood in front of the mirror watching her lips as she formed the words so often repeated when working as an operator.
“I don’t know what you’re worried about.” Rosie laid her hands on the open volume in front of her. “You seem like you’ve been connecting calls all your life.”
Hannah smiled. Their first week at the practice switchboard had been fun. Some of the girls had become quite frazzled at trying to remember all the details, but Hannah found it much easier to pick up than she’d expected. Still, Saturday offered her the perfect opportunity to practice.
“Mrs. Reuff said I needed to work on my enunciation.” She faced the mirror again. “What do you think? Are the vowels open enough when I say puh-leez?”
Tessa turned from her seat on the sofa. “Would you two puh-leez be quiet? I’m working.”
“Collecting more headlines?” Hannah joined her on the sofa.
“Tessa, I’d like to hear them—puh-leez.” Rosie giggled.
Hannah moaned. “Don’t encourage her.”
“I thought you Gregory girls were all about encouraging each other’s dreams.” Rosie closed her book. “Read me one, Tessa.”
“Your mother gave me some older newspapers. This article is from a paper that came out the day we moved here. ‘Groom waits while bride suicides.’”
“Tess, that’s horrible!”
Hannah’s youngest sister bit her lip but didn’t look remotely contrite. “But I bet everyone who saw that headline read the article. Wouldn’t you?”
Rosie raised her brows, laughter dancing in her eyes.
“That’s not the point.” Hannah removed her hat pin and hat and set them on the table. “Was there any news we needed to know in that paper?”
“There was another fire.”
“Really? Where?”
“Hmm.” Tessa paused to read the article. “It was at one of the Western Union supply buildings. They think it was arson. Some kind of explosion. It says they have several suspects.”
Fear spiraled up Hannah’s spine. Another fire linked to Western Union. She prayed Walt had not been involved.
Lincoln stepped up to the fairway and turned to his caddie. The young man handed Lincoln a wood from the canvas and leather golf bag. Lincoln thanked him and stepped around Pete Williams to tee off. After positioning himself on the side of the golf ball, he drew in a deep breath of spring air and said a prayer of thanks. Only the second day of May, and he was already enjoying the golf course at the country club.
Muscles tense, Lincoln twisted his body and swung the club. The ball sailed into the air until it became a white dot against the pale blue sky. It came down just short of the putting green.
“Not bad, Linc. Good loft.” Pete clapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. “Now, let me show you how it’s really done.”
Lincoln laughed and stepped aside. Pete bent over the ball, his rounded belly hanging low. He swung the golf club, and the shot went wide.
“So that’s how it’s done? Funny, I thought the goal was to get the ball in the hole.”
“Yeah, yeah. Always a smart guy.” Pete fell in step beside Lincoln as they walked down the fairway. Their caddies fell in behind. “I heard the Gregory girl came in the office the other day and put you in your place.”
“Who said that?”
“Cedric. Who else?” Pete walked to his ball and lined up the shot. He chipped it onto the putting green.
Lincoln removed an iron from his golf bag and approached his ball. “Cedric should have been a fiction writer. He always has his own version of things.” He drew the club back and watched the ball bounce onto the green, then roll closer to the hole.
“So what’s your version? Did she put you in your place, or vice versa?”
“I plead the fifth.” With a grin, Lincoln turned to the caddie and exchanged his iron for a putter.
“Well, well, well. I guess you don’t need to say anything. That smile on your face is as self-incriminating as it can get. Do we need to have you and Miss Gregory over for dinner one evening?”
“No.” Lincoln shook his head and practiced a couple of putting shots. “Hannah Gregory might be a fascinating young woman, but she isn’t interested in the man who took her home.” He tapped the ball. It rolled two yards and circled the hole without going in. Emitting a groan, he tapped it. The ball dropped with a ping into the cup.
“It’s not like you to let one by.” Pete easily sank his putt, then shot Lincoln a challenging grin.
Lincoln handed his caddie the club. “Are you talking about my putt or Miss Gregory?”
“Both.” He wrapped his arm around Lincoln’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go get something to eat, and thanks to my last stellar putt, I believe you’re buying. But we need to hurry. Ever since that fire, Elise has been on edge.”
They started back to the clubhouse, and Lincoln considered how to ask about Elise’s mental health. She’d always been prone to periods of melancholy. “Is everything okay with Elise?”
Pete nodded. “She’s a little rattled, is all. She’s better since they made an arrest.”
“An arrest?”
“A disgruntled telegraph employee.” Pete tugged on the points of his vest. “And since Albert came home, I must say Elise’s spirits are better. One thing I know is that I’ll never send him away again. It’s too hard on her. She’s too fragile.”
Rounding a bend in the path, Lincoln picked up the pace. He grieved for Pete as he struggled to find answers to his wife’s and his son’s disturbances and melancholy.
“And how is Albert doing?” Like Pete, he’d hoped Albert’s stay at the special home in Germany would help him overcome any of the tendencies he’d inherited from his mother.
“The doctors there declared him cured.” Pete huffed and puffed up the last incline. “A complete success, they say.” They reached the clubhouse, and Pete paused at the door. “He seems like his old self. He’s talking of returning to college next year.”
“I hope he does. He’s a brilliant young man.”
Pete’s eyes lit up at the compliment. “And he needs to do something with his life so he can take care of me when I’m old.”
“When you’re old?” Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll always have me, old man.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Hey!” Lincoln opened the door to the clubhouse. “For that, you’re buying your own steak.”
“I’ll buy if you promise to join Elise and me for Sunday dinner. You can see Albert for yourself and get reacquainted.”
“I’m not his favorite person, Pete. You know that.”
“I’m telling you, he’s changed. Come see for yourself.”
Lincoln smiled and agreed. He’d do anything Pete asked, including sitting through an uncomfortable dinner. He owed too much to the man, who’d been like a father to him, to ever say no to anything he asked.
The last notes from the closing hymn lingered in the air. Trying to remain inconspicuous, Hannah turned around and scanned the back of the church where the latecomers usually sat. No Lincoln. Disappointment rippled through her. But that was ridiculous. Why would she care if Lincoln Cole visited her congregation again?
Charlotte touched Hannah’s arm. “Where’s your friend Walt?”
“Isn’t he here?” Hannah’s gaze swept the room, and guilt nudged her. She’d noticed Lincoln was absent but not Walt, her oldest friend?
Walt’s mother and father, clearly upset, huddled in the corner, speaking to the preacher. How odd. Was Walt ill?
“Can we go? I’m hungry.” Tessa’s stomach growled as if on cue.
Hannah waved her aside. “Not yet. I want to check on Walt.”
&nb
sp; She smoothed the bodice of her yellow calico dress and made her way through the congregants. She waited at the side for Mr. and Mrs. Calloway to finish their conversation. But when Mrs. Calloway saw her, she motioned her over.
Feeling like an intruder, Hannah reluctantly joined them.
Mrs. Calloway latched on to her arm as soon as she was within reach. “Oh, Hannah, Walt desperately needs your help.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Mrs. Calloway leaned close and whispered, “He’s been arrested.”
Hannah gasped. “What happened?”
A deep frown dug crevices in Mr. Calloway’s face. “He got himself into this, Grace. He can get himself out. All this union nonsense. He should have joined me on the farm like we always wanted.”
“It wasn’t his way, Ethan.” Tears welled in Mrs. Calloway’s eyes. “And you know he needs a lawyer.”
Mr. Calloway pulled his wife close. “I’m sorry, Grace, but we can’t afford a fancy lawyer, even if we wanted to. We’re not set to do that, and we’ve got the other children to tend to.”
“I know. That’s why we need Hannah. She’s been to law school. Who would fight for him more than Hannah?”
Hannah pressed her hand against her throat. “You want me to represent him?”
“Please, Hannah.”
“But I’m not a lawyer. I didn’t even finish law school.” Hannah’s chest constricted when a tear slipped from Mrs. Calloway’s eyes. “What’s he been charged with?”
“Arson.” The woman paused to wipe away her tear. “They think he might have something to do with a supply shed fire, but they arrested him for burning down a carriage house over all this union nonsense.”
A glimmer of hope flickered inside Hannah. Walt couldn’t have been involved in either fire. He’d been helping her and her sisters move when the first fire occurred, and he’d been with her the afternoon of the second. When she’d arrived home from operators’ school, he’d been waiting on her porch. All she’d have to do is explain that to the authorities.
Oh no.
As if someone had blown out her candle, the flame of hope extinguished and a crater formed in her stomach. If she told anyone Walt had been with her, she’d lose her position with the telephone company. She and her sisters would be penniless.
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