Belonging (20 page)

“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.”

“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.

“Evenin’, Miz Summerville,” one of them said.

Colin recognized the men as cowpokes who worked for Glen Gilchrist. The one who’d spoken to Kathleen had come into the store for supplies a number of times over the summer. Oscar something. Johnson. No, Jacobson.

The young man—Colin guessed him to be nine or ten years
his junior—nodded to him next, a slight frown furrowing his brow. “Evenin’, Mr. Murphy.”

“Jacobson.” He looked at the fellow behind him, but he didn’t look familiar, so Colin just nodded.

Kathleen said, “I’m surprised to see you in town with all this rain, Mr. Jacobson.”

“Ranch work doesn’t wait for the weather, ma’am.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does.”

“Well,”—Oscar set his hat back on his head—“didn’t mean to intrude on your supper.”