Leave a Candle Burning (4 page)

“How are you?” Reese asked of Mrs. Greenlowe, her former landlady, as soon as she was seated at her kitchen table on Friday afternoon.

“I’m not the one!” Mrs. Greenlowe answered in her indomitable way. “You increase every time I see you. I need to be the one asking!”

Reese couldn’t stop her smile and assured her, “I’m fine.”

“Not sick?”

“Not sick.”

“Well, that’s good! It’s miserable when you’re sick.”

“I’m more tired,” Reese admitted.

“How does one get
more
tired when she’s never been tired in the first place?”

Reese had to laugh. It was an old saw between them. Mrs. Greenlowe was convinced that Reese could go forever without sleep or rest. And in fact, her energy level was high, but not as high as the older woman liked to proclaim.

“What’s that banker husband of yours doing today?”

“I think he’s at the bank. A property in town has recently come back to the bank, and he and Troy are having to deal with readying the house for the market.”

“Was it Corgiat? Did he owe the bank?”

“It is his house, but the bank might only be handling it for the family because they don’t live in Tucker Mills.”

“Doesn’t Conner tell you these things?”

“No, and I don’t want to know.”

Mrs. Greenlowe sat back. She’d been leaning toward her guest in anticipation but now relaxed. Reese smiled at her, able to guess her thoughts after all this time. Mrs. Greenlowe was the next to speak, confirming Reese’s suspicions.

“What’s the point of being married to a banker if you can’t learn simple things like that?”

“Even if I learned them, I couldn’t share,” Reese reasoned, fighting laughter over how close she’d come to reading this woman’s mind. “Would you want me to leave here and tell others your business?” Reese asked gently.

Mrs. Greenlowe sat up as though she’d been stung. “You wouldn’t do that!” the woman defended her as though there was a need. “How’s Cathy Shephard?” she asked next, jumping topics at lightning speed.

“I haven’t checked on her, but I suspect she’s at the Randall farm.”

“Maddie will take good care of her,” Mrs. Greenlowe stated confidently. “Who will see after Doyle?”

“Well, I imagine he’ll head to the farm each evening. I don’t know about breakfast and dinner.” This said, Reese leaned in her chair to see the clock on the parlor wall.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Already?”

“Yes, but I’ll be back.”

“And I might visit you.”

“Yes, you might. Why don’t you come to dinner next week?”

“Will Dannan be there?”

“Probably.”

Mrs. Greenlowe sniffed. “I don’t know if I can have dinner with two bankers and a doctor.”

Knowing this lady’s views on several professions, including bankers and doctors, Reese only smiled and said, “Well, if you change your mind, I’ve plenty.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Greenlowe returned, tempering her voice and speaking sincerely. She saw Reese to the door, hugging her in return when Reese bent to embrace her.

Mrs. Greenlowe watched Reese walk away, not aware that Reese’s mind was on her as well. Reese was asking herself if she should have invited Mrs. Greenlowe to the meetinghouse on Sunday, and then realized from her many invitations of the past that the offer was always on the table. If Mrs. Greenlowe wanted to come, she knew she was welcome.

Dannan settled by the fire that evening, wondering when he’d ever been so lonely. It hadn’t been like this when he first arrived in town. His uncle was still here, and the newness of Tucker Mills had given him little time for reflection. But now Jonas MacKay was gone, moved to warmer climes with Dannan’s own parents. Dannan was settled in the house, unpacked, and completely moved in, which meant if he wasn’t enjoying tea with a family in the village, he was very much on his own come evening.

His closest friend and cousin, Grant MacKay, with his wife and small daughter, still lived in Willows Crossing. They had exchanged letters since he’d arrived, but Dannan had just recently written and had not yet heard back.

Dannan knew that sitting and feeling sorry for himself was not the answer. He owed a letter to his mother, and he knew if he could tell anyone how he was feeling, it would be her.

Dannan took time to pray for his family and then for the patients he’d treated that day. Of all the valuable things he had learned from his uncle, praying for his patients was his favorite. Not until he covered each one did Dannan start his letter home.

Two

Dannan was at Shephard Store first thing Saturday morning, but Conner had been right: Cathy was no longer in town.

“She wasn’t happy about it,” Doyle admitted, his eyes sparkling a little. “But you said she needed to keep still for proper healing, and that wasn’t going to happen here in town.”

“No, I imagine not.” Dannan laughed softly, having seen from the start that Cathy Shephard was a woman who liked to get things done.

“You headed out there?”

“Yes. Probably in the next hour.”

“Can you take a basket of things she forgot?”

“Certainly.”

“Oh, and you got a letter.”

“Thank you,” Dannan looked down at the missive he’d been handed. It was from his father. Dannan might have started the letter on the spot, but Doyle was suddenly handing him a basket.

“Tell Cathy I’ll see her as soon as I close up and that I’m not starving.”

Dannan laughed again and headed toward the door. Interested to know how life was going for his parents with his uncle living with them, Dannan went back to trying to read when he exited, never seeing the rake handle that was headed his way. Dannan felt something hard poke him sharply in the head. It was not a soft blow, and it stopped him dead in his tracks.

“I’m sorry!” a female voice gasped. “Are you all right?”

The fingers Dannan put to his forehead had blood on them. His ears rang a bit, so it took a moment to look at the woman addressing him.

“Are you all right?” she repeated.

“I think so,” Dannan answered, realizing he’d seen this young woman at the meetinghouse. She was hard to forget.

“Can I do something for you? I don’t have a handkerchief.” She looked down at her basket, and the rake handle, whose end was very jagged and the evident object of his attack, swung near him again. Dannan reached out and took it. The woman never noticed.

“I must have something to put on your head,” she spoke into the basket as she was searching. “You’re bleeding, and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Dannan assured her, shifting the objects in his hand to reach for his own handkerchief. “I’ve got something here.”

The green-eyed woman stared up at him, her face filled with concern. Dannan handed the rake back to her and then mopped his head.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Please don’t be. I’m fine.”

“Fine people don’t bleed,” she reasoned, and Dannan had to smile. When she saw that smile, the woman relaxed a bit. Dannan was glad to notice her apparent calm. He was all right, or he would be very soon; it was not a serious injury. Indeed, for looking at those green eyes and the light red curls peeking out of her dark yellow bonnet, Dannan had forgotten all about his head.

“Why don’t I ask Doyle if he has an ointment handy?” the woman suggested.

“I do thank you for your concern, but I’m headed home and have all that I need there.”

“All right,” she agreed, still looking troubled. “But if you do need something, I live at the Peterson house. I hope you’ll let me know.”

Seeing that she was not going to go inside until he took his leave, Dannan thanked her with a slight bow of the head and wished her a good day. He then made himself walk away. What he wanted to do was stand and talk to her some more, or maybe he just wanted to look into those green eyes and hear the soft sound of her voice. At any rate, Dannan turned and made his way down the green, all the while seeing the small redhead in his mind’s eye.

“She’s been fed and changed, and she’s ready for you to hold her,” Maddie told Cathy after breakfast. “Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine. You just give me that girl and go on your way.”

Maddie surrendered her daughter into Cathy’s good arm and then slipped into the kitchen. She shut the door so she wouldn’t spend all her time peeking in at them and then got to work.

Saturdays were usually busy because she was preparing meals for Sunday as well. She had been planning to invite Conner, Reese, and Troy for dinner after services, but since Cathy had become a guest and wasn’t always very comfortable, she would leave them for another week.

Maddie got to work on dinner for that day, but she could tell she was distracted. When Doyle had brought Cathy, Maddie had been sorry for her but was glad for the opportunity to take care of her. And always it lingered in her mind that her aunt might wish to speak of spiritual matters. Maddie’s life had changed dramatically while she’d been carrying Valerie, and she was eager to share. Cathy had occasional questions, but Maddie was never sure how far the door was open.

Realizing that she was standing still with her thoughts, Maddie forced herself to get back to work. She had a new recipe to try and needed to concentrate, but when her mind had time, she kept asking God to save her aunt. She also asked that her own patience level—no matter how long it took for Cathy to see the truth—would remain strong.