Love's Story (45 page)

The following Monday Rachel learned that Dennis and Aubrey had dropped out of school after learning their dreams were lost to them because they didn't know their sums. Rachel felt broken. She had become so embittered since moving to Searsville, but all the while she had taken solace in the knowledge that she was a good teacher. Rachel was starting to see how her negative attitude was taking a toll on those around her.

She wondered how she could have become so insensitive to other people's feelings, making sport of the two older boys. Normally, she would have instantly prayed about the situation, but she had given up prayer altogether. God was not listening, and praying just seemed a waste of time.

The weekly quilting circle had gathered at Mrs. Davenport's home and Rachel Phillips was the main topic of discussion.

“Did you see her dress?” Mrs. Irving asked, her short fingers working diligently on the quilt piece before her.

“Disgraceful; and her the village schoolteacher!” replied Mrs. Davenport. “Soaking wet and muddied in front of the whole town; what a shame for you, my dear.” Mrs. Davenport directed her comment to Mrs. Thorne, mother of the bride.

“I know, it was terrible. And the reception was going along so beautifully, too,” Mrs. Thorne answered pitifully, her head shaking in self-pity, “I certainly hope Veronica and Jeremiah will soon forget the whole incident. Such a terrible blight on the beginning of their marriage. Veronica certainly got more than she bargained for when she politely invited that, that
teacher
of hers. I tried to tell her, women like that have no place in decent society. But, you know my Veronica, always thinking of others,” Mrs. Thorne said in a hushed tone.

“I hardly think Miss Phillips should be faulted for overlooking her appearance to save a child from drowning,” Mrs. Hopper finally injected.

“Mrs. Hopper, she's the town schoolteacher. She could have beckoned to any one of those pathetic sawyers drooling over her, getting them to jump into the lake and save the boy,” Mrs. Thorne reasoned, while the other women nodded in agreement.

“Chase Dylan didn't seem to mind her appearance at all,” Mrs. Hopper said, looking maliciously at Gretchen Steele. Gretchen's eyes narrowed in Thelma's direction, and her sewing instantly dropped to her lap. Thelma watched her expectantly, but Gretchen picked up her needle and returned to her sewing as though nothing had occurred.

The conversation was picked up by another. “Thelma, you needn't stand up for the woman simply because you took her into your home before you knew her character. That was the Christian thing to do.” Mrs. Davenport offered her forgiveness.

The hostess's words caused Thelma to react unexpectedly. She stood abruptly, throwing her sewing project onto the chair behind her. “You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You sit here with smug satisfaction while you shred anything left of that poor woman's reputation! I'll tell you, Rachel was a dear friend while she lived with me, and I am ashamed of my behavior. I will no longer be a party to this pettiness.”

Thelma stormed out the doorway of the formal parlor and asked Milly to get her coat. She stood in the hallway, pacing the small space until her garment arrived. The young girl helped Thelma into her wool overcoat, and she walked outside, slamming the door behind her.

“My, what a scene,” Mrs. Davenport said, rocking nervously in her chair.

“Was that really necessary?” Mrs. Irving asked Gretchen Steele coolly.

“I wonder what she'll do without us,” Gretchen said, and the gaggle of women looked at one another in knowing agreement and cackled heartily.

“Tonight will be our last get-together for a while, Henry. I talked to your mother about another trip to Redwood, just you and me, and she doesn't think it's a good idea right now.” Chase Dylan sat alongside the rocky shore of Searsville's dark green lake preparing fishing poles for himself and the young Henry Steele. His voice was filled with sadness, and he concentrated on tying his lure to avoid looking at the child.

“Chase, you're not going away are you?” Henry reached for Chase's arm, pulling him away from the task at hand.

“No, of course not, Henry, but I'll be busy until Christmastime. I'm going to start up the mill again and I probably won't make it into town as often.”

“Are you mad at my mom, Chase? Is that why you're leavin'?” Henry's question was heartfelt and his eyes carried a pained expression.

“No, son, I'm not. Your mother and I just disagree on a few things and we'll discuss them later, but there's nothing for you to be concerned about. Do you understand?” Chase felt as though he were abandoning the boy at such an inopportune time, but he had promised his men work for the winter. Anyway, his presence in Searsville only seemed to make matters worse.

“My mom doesn't like Miss Phillips. Is that why you're mad at her?” Henry untied his boots as he asked the question. He dangled his feet in the murky waters of the lake before them, avoiding eye contact with Chase.

“Henry, like I said before, I'm not angry with your mother. We do disagree about Miss Phillips, but that's as far as it goes, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“I heard my mom telling Mrs. Davenport you only like Miss Phillips 'cause she's got a pretty face. Is that true?”

Chase's initial reaction to the question was hostility, but he remained even-tempered as he looked at Henry's steel-gray eyes. “Do you think that's true, Henry? That I only like Miss Phillips for her looks?”

“No sir,” Henry replied meekly.

“So we'll plan to ride the train after Christmas, how does that sound?” Chase felt the time was right to change the subject. He was troubled that Gretchen had chosen to speak ill of Rachel in front of Henry, but he wasn't about to do the same thing to the widow, regardless of whether or not she deserved it.

“Yippee!” Henry shouted.

“All right, then,” Chase said.

“Well, another trip to Redwood. Doesn't that sound exciting?” A low evening shadow encompassed the boy and the pair turned to see Mrs. Hopper on the path, her hands clasped in enthusiasm.

“Mrs. Hopper, what a pleasure.” The words from Chase were uttered with complete sincerity. Chase had heard from Jeremiah that Thelma Hopper had been officially disowned by Searsville's women's society, and in his heart he knew it had something to do with Rachel, knew that Thelma Hopper had finally taken a stand.

“Chase, I saw you from my kitchen window and I wanted to come by and thank you.” Mrs. Hopper's happy spirit was genuine.

“Thank me for what?” Chase was completely in the dark.

“For finding me a new houseguest. You know how I hate to be alone. And to have found someone my own age; well, it's just more than I could have hoped for.” Mrs. Hopper bent at the waist so that she could pat Chase's broad shoulder. “I simply can't wait for Mrs. Williams to arrive. She'll be coming on Tuesday, and I've been frantic to get the house ready.”

“Mrs. Hopper, I think Mrs. Williams could come in the dead of night, any night, with no warning at all, and you'd be ready with fresh flowers on the mantle and sugar cookies baking in the oven.” Chase's eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Oh Chase, really. You flatter me.” Mrs. Hopper tossed her hand, laughing at the ridiculous notion.

“I don't know if you know what you're getting into, Mrs. Hopper. You and Mrs. Williams together might be more housekeeping than Searsville will allow. She'll probably arrive with fresh-cut flowers and a cake or two herself.” Chase flashed a sporting grin, thrilled to be responsible for Mrs. Hoppers' houseguest and the way God had worked things for the best. Mrs. Williams was of solid character, and she would definitely be a strong role model and friend to Mrs. Hopper, keeping her away from the sewing circle that seemed to brew so much trouble. He also knew that with Rachel's present state,
she
was better off at the Lathrops'.

Rachel read the letter in her bedroom, and a single tear fell. Her mother's visit had been the furthest thing from her mind before the letter arrived. If the town saw her little brother, and Rachel showing him affection, the rumor would surely be confirmed as true. And what if Marshall were to find out that she had been evicted from Mrs. Hopper's home? Would he allow her mother to continue corresponding with her?
And worst of all,
Rachel's eyes shut in horror at the thought,
what if they were to find out that the entire town had seen me in the ruins of my drenched gown clinging tightly to me. That would certainly be reason enough for Marshall to disown me.
Rachel knew there was only one possibility; she must tell her mother the trip would have to be postponed.

“Kish.” Seth was at her side, clearly upset by Rachel's melancholy mood.

“I would love a kiss, my sweet,” Rachel said, lifting Seth onto the bed. He snuggled his tiny head into her neck as she planned her letter of regret.