Rumors and Promises (36 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Rouser

BOOK: Rumors and Promises
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The only other noises were various birds calling to their mates and a gentle breeze rustling the branches. Light clouds had skidded away across the sky, freeing warm beams of sunlight.

Sophie closed her eyes, pretending the moment would last forever. If only this were another time and place, where she had met Ian before she’d been expecting Caira. If only her family could have gone to his church to sing and perform. Their gazes would have caught one another’s and fate would have taken over.
He would have sought her out, yes, surely. The situation would have been much better if she were still the well thought of Sophia Bidershem. Then she would have been an asset to his ministry and his church.

Caira’s distant chattering broke Sophie’s reverie. She opened her eyes and sighed. It was too late for her, but not for Caira to have a protected life. But where could she go? She was tired of running. If she could play a behind the scenes role at the school, perhaps they would be safe enough.

“What is it, dear Sophie?” Ian placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face toward his. “Your heart seems so heavy. I wish you would allow me to share your burden … all of your burdens, truly.”

Sophie felt the warmth of his breath brush her cheek. His quiet tone soothed her restless soul. The masculine scent of him filled her senses. Part of her knew that she should pull away, but she felt drawn to Ian. A peace overcame any fears she had formerly experienced, and she relaxed in his embrace.

She swallowed hard, forming a reply. “B-but some burdens cannot be shared.”

“Then let me lighten them for you a bit.” The intensity of his gaze drew Sophie closer. Their lips were only inches apart.

CHAPTER 21

“T
here you are!”

Sophie and Ian simultaneously pulled apart and sat up straight, almost tumbling from the bench.

Maggie stood with one hand on her hip and the other holding one of Caira’s. Her brows knit together with concern. “Caira was looking for you, Sophie.”

“I’m sorry. I felt like I needed a walk and to think about things by myself. I-I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

Ian jumped to his feet, cheeks flaming with guilt. He cleared his throat. “Yes, and she wasn’t feeling well. I thought she would quite faint. That’s why we were sitting here together. I wanted to make sure—”

“I see. Why don’t you get Sophie something cold to drink.” Maggie stood with crossed arms. A smug smile replaced her look of worry. Caira scurried toward Sophie and climbed on her lap.

“An excellent idea.” Ian strode away, head down, with his hands in his pockets like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“’Cowmick?” Caira whined.

If Sophie didn’t know better, she would have thought Ian was avoiding her gaze. How could he leave her alone to face his sister?

Sophie smoothed Caira’s hair and held her close. “I think I’ll be fine now. Thank you for your concern, Maggie.” She nodded toward Maggie without looking directly into her friend’s eyes, then stood and took her daughter by the hand to return to the luncheon party.

She may have to be separated from Ian for the moment, but she didn’t want to leave the people of Stone Creek. If people like Gloria and Maggie continued to believe in her, if Gertrude Wringer didn’t find out the truth, Sophie could stay here for a time. This meant she would have a chance to see Ian. She cared for him though it would have to be from a distance. How foolish of her to allow their closeness in the orchard. She must be much more careful.

She marched with assurance toward Gloria and Asa. When Sophie reached the table again, she spoke, hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake. “I accept your offer. I’m ready to help you in any way I can—as long as I can maintain my sewing business.”

Gloria clasped her hands together like an excited child. “Oh, good. You disappeared, and I was afraid that somehow my offer had upset you.” She hugged Sophie. “We’ll begin as soon as possible and work out something that will suit us both. The girls will need to learn sewing, as well.”

Sophie smiled and returned the embrace.

Mr. Graemer gasped, and Sophie turned in time to see him grab his chest. “Help.” He choked out a strangled cry. He labored for each breath taken.

“Mr. Graemer! Oh dear!” Esther Fairgrave jumped from her chair and let her white linen napkin drift to the ground.

Sophie thought she’d heard the pattering of Caira’s little feet as she mounted the stairs with a tray of tea for Mr. Graemer. The
little one was up from her nap early and the door to their room was ajar. “Caira?” Sophie poked her head into the doorway, but she only saw the rumpled blanket left behind. “Where are you?”

A giggle traveled down the hallway along with an elderly man’s gravelly chuckle. She quickened her step to Mr. Graemer’s room. While her patient sat propped up with pillows, Caira curled up next to him, and she covered her eyes, then peeked out.

“Peek-a-boo, I see you.” The old man smiled. “I got you again.”

“Caira, I’ve told you. Leave Mr. Graemer alone, he’s very ill.” Sophie shook her head and marched over to the nightstand where she placed the small tray.

“My dear, she’s no bother at all.” He patted Caira on the back. “She brightens my day, as do you.” He stared out the window for a moment. “How I miss my family.” Light drops of rain gathered on the pane, even as clouds converged above.

Sophie puffed the pillows and poured tea from a petite green ceramic pot. “Caira, go get your picture books. Then you may look at them quietly and keep Mr. Graemer company.”

“Wan’ stay wif Gwaemer.” Caira’s bottom lip curled out.

“I mean business.” Sophie tilted her head. Her daughter slid off the bed and padded out of the room and down the stairs.

Sophie straightened Mr. Graemer’s bed coverings and handed the cup into his trembling hands. When she tried to help him, he insisted on sipping on his own. Once she took the cup and placed it back on its saucer, Sophie sat in Mr. Graemer’s squeaky rocking chair and took up her knitting. She could hear Caira below asking Esther for help taking the books down from a shelf.

Did Mr. Graemer want to talk? She didn’t want to pry, so she waited.

“Sometimes you don’t realize when you’re in the best part of life. Hm.” He coughed.

“Another sip of tea?” Sophie sprang from the chair.

He lifted his hand. “Not right now, my dear.” Mr. Graemer took as deep a breath as he could manage.

She settled back into the rocking chair, worrying her lip. He couldn’t get worse on her watch.

“My sons, Lawrence and Peter, why, they were good boys, but I fretted when they fought or got in trouble at school. Worried about them getting their educations. Lily fussed over them when they had the quinsy or the grippe. I thought I should be making more money, so we were vexed about all those little things … that didn’t seem so little at the time.”

He turned to stare out the window again. “But those were the times when we laughed the most. At Christmas, our sons would help Lily string cranberries and popcorn for the tree. We lit the candles one Christmas Eve, for a few minutes, so we could sing a hymn together. A breeze blew in when one of the boys came back through the door and a curtain caught on fire. I never saw Lily move so fast with the water from the pitcher in the hall. But Peter, why he just tossed a bowl of eggnog at the tree and caught the flame just in time. She scolded him for ruining the curtains, but Lawrence, ever the peacemaker, piped up and said, ‘Mother, I think the fire ruined them.’ And he just took a towel and started cleaning up the mess around the tree.”

Mr. Graemer swallowed and looked back at her. “I said, ‘That’s true, little mother.’ And do you know what she did?”

Sophie shook her head. “I can only imagine.”

“Lily started laughing. ‘Well then, thank the Lord we didn’t burn the house down,’ she said. Then she laughed so hard, we all joined in and could barely stop before we thanked the Lord in prayer together. We knew we were close to being homeless on Christmas Eve. It could have been a lot worse.

“But you never think those times will someday disappear. You expect your children will grow up and marry, you’ll have grandchildren, taking it all for granted. Both the boys were courting
lovely girls when they went off to war. That one Christmas we didn’t know we were just a few years away from things changing altogether. Don’t forget to cherish the moments you have with the little one.” He nodded, giving her a knowing look.

“Certainly, Mr. Graemer.” She averted her gaze. What should she fear? The old man knew nothing of her history.

Caira stumbled through the door, arms full of books that once belonged to Esther’s daughter. She plopped them on the end of the bed.

Sophie leaned forward. “Be careful now not to hurt Mr. Graemer.” She arose and found a small chair in the hallway to place next to the bed. “You can sit or kneel on this, but don’t stand on it.”

“Let’s see your favorite book.” He gave Caira a kind but weary smile.

“Kitten.” Caira picked one out of the pile.

The two looked through the pictures, Caira mimicking Sophie’s reading and telling the story as though she recognized each word. Finally, Mr. Graemer nodded off.

“Come on, now, sweetie, Mr. Graemer needs to rest. You sit quiet and read your books.” Sophie smiled at her daughter.

“Remember what I said, Miss Biddle. Cherish the time with your family.” She jumped, not having expected Mr. Graemer to say anything more.

Caira whispered, telling herself each story she looked over. Sophie glanced toward the ill man, then out the window before returning to her knitting. Drops pelted the divided panes, making the world outside blurry. Or was it the wetness clouding her eyes? When she’d left home a couple of years before, Grandpa Morton still lived, but did he now? Or had she missed going through this dark time and saying “good-bye” with her family? And what of her mother, father, and Paul? Had Paul stepped up in responsibility in the family business? Had he found a lovely girl to court?

She and Caira had to start afresh and cherish their own family moments, make their own memories. There was no turning back if it meant facing marriage to a cruel man. She thanked God Charles hadn’t found them in quiet little Stone Creek. Still, she missed her family.

Mr. Graemer had often seemed grumpy or distant, perhaps because he couldn’t hear people, he didn’t try hard to converse with them. Or maybe he’d been wrapped up in a world from nearly half a century before when he had his own home and family.

Caira leaned against her. “Soffie, will you read to me?” She held up her book about cats.

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