Courting Emma (Little Hickman Creek Series #3) (47 page)

A cool breeze stirred through the open windows at the
front of the store, which was a good thing because Iris's comment made Jon's blood boil. "The Lord is not fussy about who
He accepts into His kingdom, or when they come, Iris, as long
as they come with repentant hearts. Look at the thief on the
cross. In his final hour he asked the Lord for mercy, and Jesus
promised him a place in Paradise."

"Well, that may be true, but was he a worthless drunk on
top of being a thief?"

"Iris, for goodness' sake, what difference should that
make?" Clyde scolded. "I don't know why it should ruffle
you that the old guy's found peace with God. It took a lot of
courage for him to come forward the way he did last Sunday,
sick as he was. I can think of a few folks who'd benefit from
goin' up front and askin' forgiveness from those they've
offended." Clyde aimed his statement straight at his wife so that she dropped her gaze to her register and started
punching keys, shoulders squared, her breaths coming out
in short puffs.

Jon cast an eye at Fancy and found her mouth agape, but
her eyes dancing with amusement.

Millie kept her eyes trained on Rose, but it was clear her
pursed lips were fighting off a grin. "I'll take this spool of
thread, too," she muttered to Iris, pushing it across the counter
with her other items. Without so much as an upward glance,
Iris completed Millie's dry goods order.

"Now then, Jonathan, was there something you needed
from iiie?" Clyde brushed his hands together and stuck their
in his pockets.

"Actually, I was wondering about that vacant piece of property across from the church. I'm told you own it."

"Well, I do, yes. Were you thinking the church might have
need of it?"

"No, not the church. Enmia's cousin, Grace, is interested
in purchasing it. I told her I'd speak to you about it."

"Why, what would she want with it?" Iris asked, her head
shooting lip.

Clyde leveled Iris with a warning look. She shrugged. "I'm
merely asking," she crowed. Huffing, she handed Millie her
change then set to wrapping her purchases in brown paper,
tying it shut with a piece of twine.

"She owns and operates a successful restaurant business in
Chicago, but she's ready to sell it and move to Little Hickman,"
Jon explained. "If she can find the right piece of property,
she'd like to build an eating establishment right here in the
middle of town, maybe put her living quarters above it. I think
it'd do well, don't you? Aside from the three stools in Bordon's
Bakery where Orville and Winnie serve up a hot cup of coffee with a slice of fresh bread or a donut, there's no place besides
their hones for the citizens of Hickman to take their meals."

"There's the saloon," Fancy said, as if she were being helpful. Clyde and Jon both raised their brows at her. "Not that it's
suitable, hind you. Certainly, I wouldn't darken its doors. I
only hear there's food in there."

Clyde whistled through his teeth and looked at Jon. "Well,
I'll be. I been wondering when someone with the culinary skills
might cone along and build us an eatery."

"I know Herb and I would love the chance to eat the occasional meal out. Sounds like a downright luxury, if you ask
me." Millie hoisted Rose more securely on one hip and tucked
her parcel under her arni. "Good day, folks." At the door she
turned. "Oh, and do tell Emma's cousin that I hope things
work out for her."

Jon waved at Millie as she opened the door. "I'll do it,
Millie. You have a good day now."

"I ain't ever et in a restaurant before," remarked Fancy
after the front door shut with a thump. She laid her purchase
of one twelve-inch black zipper on the counter. Iris snagged it
up and rang up the total.

"There's a first time for everything, nia'ani," Jon told her.

The wide smile she returned was missing a few front
teeth.

After a satisfying talk with Clyde, Iris tending to a sudden
swarm of new customers, Jon left the store. Grace had to work
out a number of issues before purchasing the property, but as
far as Clyde was concerned, the lot was hers.

Reins in hand, he clicked Jupiter into motion and headed
up Main Street again. He passed the mercantile on his right
and the saloon on his left. Looking through the swinging
doors, lie glimpsed someone swaying on his feet. Even in the afternoon hour, it echoed with boisterous sounds, an off-key
piano, raucous laughter, and some woman's crude remark.

Thank You for saving Ezra from that pit, Lord, even if it was in
his eleventh hour. Give me a heart for more souls like him, ones who
look for peace at the bottom of an empty bottle but fail to find it. Help
me reveal Your redeeming love to them and, more importantly, show
me how to do it.

An empty field separated the bawdy establishment from
the new church. His mood changed at the sight of the freshly
built structure. He perused it with pride. There was still a pile
of debris at the back of the property, leftover building materials, Tini Warner's tractor, and a stack of unused lumber, but
with the help of several nien who continued to work on cleaning up the yard, the mess grew smaller every day. Already the
new church had brought a fresh sense of community, drawing
in folks who hadn't attended services in years. Perhaps this
Tuesday's church supper would lure even more unchurched
citizens.

He veered Jupiter up Hickman Creek Road. The horse
snorted and sniffed the air, eager to speed things up. Jon gave
in to the critter's urge and clicked hint into a faster pace. He
must have sensed the sweet oats awaiting him at Clarence
Sterling's farm, and Jon couldn't blame him. His own mouth
watered at what fresh-baked delicacy Mary would have sitting
on her kitchen table.

As usual, Clarence and Mary Sterling sat on their front
porch awaiting Jon's arrival. Clarence lifted a thin arm to wave
then pushed himself to his feet and hedged down the steps,
not as surefooted as he once was, but not frail either.

Mary rose and looped an arni around a post, putting the
other hand to her brow to ward off the sun. Even from a distance, Jon caught the glint in her eyes when their gazes niet.

"You bake me any cookies?" he called.

"That and a chocolate pie," she returned on the breeze.
"We got roast beef and taters for supper. Baked your favorite
rolls, too!"

Clarence arrived to take Jupiter to the watering barrel.
"Got some oats waitin' for ya, feller." Jupiter's friendly snort
indicated his gratitude as the two sauntered off to the barn.

These Friday evening suppers at the Sterlings made for a
fine routine.

There was only one problem with them. He missed
Emma.

Besides the thrill of having Grace at her side when she
walked through the doors of Little Hickman Community
Church on Sunday morning, Emma had an uncommon peace.
No longer did she enter weak-kneed and with a sense of dread.
You don't belong here, you re not good enough, you carry shame on
your sleeve, your pa is nothin' but a drunk-those nagging thoughts
had all but vanished, and perhaps it was because Grace had
told her those were the devil's lies to keep her locked away from
Christ all those many years. Now that she'd discovered Him as
her Savior, the devil had lost a great deal of ground with her.

Oh, but it gave her joy to discover the devil had not only
lost ground, he'd lost his battle for her life.

Her relationship with Ezra steadily improved, although it
had its bumps. Jesus may have saved his soul, but He'd pretty
much kept his stubbornness intact. If he wasn't complaining
about the horse pills Doc insisted he needed, he was grousing
over the soup and water Emma kept shoving down his throat.
She mostly ignored his rants, though, figuring they were due to the battle he was losing against his illness. Every clay he
looked a little thinner, grew a little weaker, and coughed a
little longer, his coughing spells often producing blood, which
landed on his shirtfront.

Folks were plainly curious about the fashionable newcomer whose presence carried rumors about a possible restaurant coming to Little Hickman. "Oh, wouldn't it be grand?"
someone had whispered from two pews back before the opening song that morning. "Imagine not havin' to cook a meal."
"Wonder what will be on the menu," another remarked. "I
hope it's meatloaf," chimed a child's voice.

Grace hadn't heard the talk, for she'd been conversing
with Gladys Hayward, who sat on the other side of her, but the
remarks brought a smile to Emma's face. The restaurant would
be nice, yes, but restaurant aside, she'd have her cousin close
by, and that's what led to her excitement.

After the service, folks gathered in the churchyard in clusters to visit. Glorious sunshine fell on shoulders wrapped in
jackets and capes. Orange-tinted oak leaves fell one by one as
early autumn kicked up its breezes. Across the yard, Emma
caught sight of Irwin Waggoner and Gertrude Riley, a known
couple these clays. In fact, Emma wouldn't be surprised if
they married soon. Hickman was due for a wedding, after all.
Last winter it'd been Liza Jane Merriwether and Benjamin
Broughton, and not long after that, Sarah Woodward and
Rocky Callahan. Who would it be this winter if not Irwin and
Gertrude?

Grace's arm tucked in Emma's, the two of them walked
along, stopping every so often to chat with whoever vied for
their attention.

"You're comin' to the church supper Tuesday night, I
hope," Flora Jarvis had said, hugging Emma's shoulders. "It couldn't be a prettier clay if it was the middle of July," remarked
Toni Averly, coming up from behind. "That sure is a perty
hat you're wearin', Miss Emma. You, too, Miss Grace," said the
middle-aged Eileen Crunkle in passing. "I do hope you won't
wait a full year to build that restaurant, ma'am. I could use a
mite of good cookin'," called the elderly Elmer Hayward from
five feet off, taking a punch in the arm from his wife, Gladys.
Everyone who'd seen and heard laughed with glee.

And so it went.

"This sure is a friendly town, honey," Grace whispered in
her ear as they moved along. "I can hardly wait to call it home.
And look at Jon over there." They both paused. "Why, you'd
think lie was royalty the way folks swarm him like bees to a
comb. That laugh of his, my, it's plain contagious."

Eninia had been watching hint ever since the benediction.
Fact is, if the man left her sight for long, he slipped right into
her mind, a true predicament if there ever was one. Yes, he'd
been more than kind to her and had even attempted to sneak
a kiss the other night before Luke interrupted them. It'd been
another one of those moments of weakness, that's all. Simply
put, she'd looked weary, and he'd taken pity.

If ever she needed to stay on her guard, it was now. Somewhere along the line, the Reverend Atkins had overtaken her
heart-and now lie had the power to break it in two.

On Tuesday morning, Jon readied Ezra for his day as best
lie could. Lately, the fellow hadn't wanted to rise for his morning ablutions, much less get dressed, but Jon believed in keeping him moving.

"Up and at 'em, my friend," he insisted. "We're going to sit on the porch this morning. It's a fine clay." With assistance
the fellow stood.

"What's the date?" lie wanted to know.

"The date. Let me think."

"October 6," said Emma, breezing into the room looking
prettier than a spring flower in her yellow flowered skirt and
pale green blouse, dust cloth in hand, a wisp of hair falling
square between her eyes.

Jon smiled but got nothing in return. The woman was
nothing this morning if she wasn't business. He wondered if
she'd spent any time thinking about their near kiss, which
Luke had so rudely interrupted a few nights ago.

"That right?" Ezra took a step and paused, took another
and rested again. "Time's a wastin', ain't it?" lie said.

"Don't know why you'd say that," Emma mumbled. "You
got no cause to be worryin' over the date." She started dusting
the dresser despite its spotless sheen.