If the Prospect Pleases Page 11

  Annora lost herself in the stirring message, noting how a few of the pastor’s gestures and voice inflections reminded her of the Reverend Baxter’s manner of preaching. For a few seconds she mentally transported herself back to Philadelphia, imagining she was sharing a pew with Lesley and her other friends. But that fantasy vanished with the realization that if she’d remained in the East, she’d have been sitting with her husband and mother-in-law. A shudder crept up her spine, bringing her attention back to the sermon, which had wound down to the points of application.

  When the singing of “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” and a closing prayer brought the service to an end, Noah beat everyone to the exit in his rush to spend the remainder of the day in town with friends. The rest of the worshipers filed out of the pews toward the open double door, where the Reverend Gardner waited to shake hands with his flock.

  As a few of the departing folks stopped to chat with Lucas and the girls, Rosemary sidled up to Annora. “So, how’s our little housekeeper today?” she asked with a twinge of scorn. “Keeping up with your duties?”

  Annora matched the milliner’s cool tone. “Yes, as a matter of fact, and discovering what good helpers little girls can be.”

  “I would imagine.” Rosemary’s gaze slid to the children, who were absorbed in the chatter going on around them. “Well, perhaps in another year or so, Lucas will take my advice and send them East to be educated. Frontier schools leave much to be desired.”

  “Personally,” Annora countered, “I feel that children need to be with the people who love them. That’s far more beneficial than learning needlepoint and Latin.”

  Rosemary’s eyebrows arched higher, then quickly resumed their normal position when she spied Lucas’s daughters coming her way.

  “Morning, Miss Rosemary,” Amy breathed, an angelic smile lighting her face.

  “Hello, precious,” the milliner cooed, fawning over the young pair. “I’ve been working on a surprise for both of you.”

  “For us?” Melinda asked. “A surprise?”

  “Mm-hm. It’ll be finished real soon.”

  “Oh, goodie!” Amy hugged the slender woman’s waist.

  “What’s all this?” Lucas asked, coming to join the group.

  “Miss Rosemary’s making us a surprise,” Melinda told him. “She says it’s almost finished.”

  “Well, that’s nice, pumpkin.” He tousled his daughter’s hair and smiled at Rosemary. “I’m amazed you have time to devote to a special treat for the girls, busy as you are with your shop.”

  “I always have time for the people who matter to me,” she replied with a dazzling smile.

  “Excuse me, please,” Annora murmured, withdrawing from the nauseating performance. The woman was nowhere near as accomplished as Mirah Baxter at feigning sweetness. Besides, all that claw-sharpening served no purpose. Annora’s relationship with the farmer was strictly business.

  Stepping up to shake the pastor’s hand, Annora fought to forget the scene behind her. . .hoping in her heart that the Lord had someone nicer than Rosemary Evans in store for Lucas and his little darlings.

  ❧

  After dining on succulent roast beef and mashed potatoes at the Brass Kettle Restaurant, Lucas steered the girls to the waiting rig. Noah had dined with friends of his and would hitch a ride home with them later.

  “You might as well ride in comfort,” Lucas quipped, assisting Annora up to the seat while his daughters climbed into the wagon bed. Then he loosened the reins from the hitching post and hopped aboard.

  Melinda and Amy, who had dominated the conversation in the restaurant by keeping up a lively string of talk during the meal, resumed their girlish chatter and giggling in back. But before the team had covered half the homeward miles, Annora noticed that the pair had grown unaccountably quiet. She peered over her shoulder and discovered they had fallen asleep.

  Lucas followed her gaze, then turned his head forward.

  Annora studied her nails momentarily, then let out a breath of resignation as the countryside rolled by.

  Finally he looked at her, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his Stetson. “Would you call me a backslider?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me. That was some sermon the reverend lambasted me with.”

  Annora wanted to smile but knew better. She assumed what she hoped was a pleasant look as she silently sought wisdom from the Lord. “He wasn’t lambasting you, Lucas. He didn’t even know you’d be there. His message was part of a series he started weeks ago.”

  “Sure sounded like he aimed it right at me.”

  “Well, perhaps it wasn’t the—” Flushing over almost speaking her mind, Annora tried again. “I mean. . .” In despair, she closed her mouth and averted her gaze.

  “Go on and finish what you were saying,” he grated. “Couldn’t be any worse than what was hurled at me from the pulpit.”

  After a slight hesitation, Annora moistened her lips and began over. “I was going to say, if it seemed all that personal, perhaps it was the Lord, not the pastor, trying to get your attention.”

  He stared straight ahead and didn’t respond right away. A muscle worked in his jaw. “The Lord got my attention real good not too long ago when he took my wife away from me.”

  “Had she. . .been sick?” Having actually voiced the question, Annora caught her lip between her teeth. Had she pried into something too deeply personal?

  Lucas shook his head. “Francie was. . .in the family way. She was so happy, thinking maybe the Lord was going to give us a son this time. The girls didn’t even know about it yet, but we were on the verge of telling them.” The beginnings of a bittersweet smile appeared, only to disappear on a ragged breath.

  Knowing it must be intensely painful to talk about it, Annora wanted to say she was sorry for asking and that he didn’t have to tell her more. But he didn’t give her the chance.

  “One hot afternoon when I was working out in the field, she took it upon herself to bring me some lemonade. To this day, I don’t really know what happened—whether she caught her heel somehow, or stepped in a hole, or just plain tripped. But she fell. Hard. And then the bleeding started. When I heard her cry out, I carried her to the bed and rode for the doc. But by the time we got back, she was—” His voice broke. “She. . .”

  It was more than Annora could bear. Without thinking, she took his big, callused hand in her much smaller one and squeezed it in wordless comfort. There was nothing she could say anyway.

  A moment or two passed before Lucas withdrew his hand from her grasp. Then before she knew what was happening, his fingers brushed across her cheek, wiping away a tear.

  Annora had no idea it had been there until the breeze whispered over the damp streak left behind. That he would be concerned for her despite his own pain provided a small glimpse into the depth of the man’s compassion. And the fact that her face still tingled where his fingers had brushed against it sent a surge of indescribable flutterings through her being. Confused over the tangle of emotions within her, she fought the maddening tendency to blush as she looked away.

  They rode onward in silence, the jangle of the harness, the clomping of the horses’ hooves, and the rattle of the wagon the only sounds.

  Lucas was first to speak. “You never answered my question, you know.” The lopsided grin he flashed appeared a touch forced, but it helped lighten the moment. “Do you think I’m a backslider?”

  Annora, exceedingly grateful for the change of mood, dared to jump in. “Did the shoe fit?”

  “Like it was made to order.”

  She smiled back. “Well, if it’s any comfort, there was something in that sermon for all of us, Lucas. Me included.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mm-hm. For example, that God is sovereign. That the things that happen in our lives don’t have to make sense to us, only to Him. And that what matters is how we respond to those circumstances. After all, He has promised to work all things out for our good.
”

  Lucas thought for a few seconds. “For such a young person, you sure sound like a preacher sometimes.”

  “Maybe because I lived with one after my parents died.”

  “They die sudden?”

  “Barely two weeks apart. Typhoid.” Surprisingly, the memory had lost some of its old sting.

  He shook his head. “I guess you know about death’s cruel blows yourself.” And with a smile, he reached for Annora’s hand and enveloped it tightly in empathy, holding it for a second timeless moment as they rode along.

  Annora derived immense comfort from that tender gesture. But in spite of the way his touch seemed to do strange things to her insides, she reminded herself that nothing was different. Lucas was still her employer and she merely his hired help. But as they came within sight of the farm, she felt that some inner healing had taken place this day. . .in both their hearts.

  fourteen

  Pastor Gardner’s sermon nagged at Lucas for days. He tried to keep busy, but no amount of work could completely erase the things that had been said during—or after—the Sunday service.

  A few nights later, after everyone else had gone to bed, he lay in the stillness with his fingers laced together behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Echoes of the minister’s words buzzed around in his mind like a persistent insect.

  Backslider. What a disagreeable word that was! Rude, even insulting. . .yet excruciatingly true. The term aptly fit a believer who had strayed from the Lord. Whether or not his reasons for turning his back on God had appeared justifiable at the time, Lucas knew there was no excuse for willfully slamming shut the door of his life in the very face of God.

  God is sovereign.

  The things that happen in our lives don’t have to make sense to us, only to Him.

  What matters is how we respond to those circumstances.

  Annora’s quiet melodious voice had given those concepts a gentle logic Lucas could not fault. Odd, the depth of spiritual wisdom that came “out of the mouths of babes,” as the Bible said. First, that tiny reminder from Amy about the importance of worshipping the Lord, then the guileless remarks that fell so incredibly easily from Annora’s tongue at just the right moment. Reflecting upon the inherent sincerity that seemed so much a part of her, he mulled her comments over in his unrest, examining them from every possible angle.

  He contemplated the selfless, giving personality his housekeeper had displayed since arriving on the farm. For someone of her tender age, she had reached a level of maturity far beyond her years. She’d been through a great deal—enough to make a lot of folks bitter. Yet any trace of sadness in those emerald eyes paled behind the glow of her inner peace. . .the same peace that had once been a precious part of his own life.

  Lucas rolled onto his side and punched his pillow, trying to find comfort as his conscience and his reason struggled against each other.

  Maybe it’s too late for me, he mused. Maybe I’ve gone too far and could never find my way back. . .even if I wanted to.

  The instant those bleak theories reared their heads, Lucas flatly rejected them. What was that saying his godly parents had tried to instill in his and Noah’s hearts all those years? Oh, yes. God does not forsake His own. It might even be possible that although he’d tried to run from the Lord, God had kept him in sight the whole time. The possibility was strangely comforting.

  Having had a taste of life without God, Lucas was ready to admit it offered nothing but empty hopelessness. Perhaps the Almighty had brought Annora all the way out here just to remind him that God’s faithfulness would forever remain constant. Since she had arrived, Lucas’s insides felt like a glacier under the summer sun, beginning to warm, slowly melting around the perimeter. Lately he’d even found himself longing for what he’d once taken for granted, to yearn for the “former things” the pastor had mentioned.

  A lot of that was because of her.

  Too bad her trial month was almost over.

  Too bad she had to be so. . .captivating.

  What are you thinking, you addlebrain? He railed in-wardly. You’re starting to sound like Noah. She’s scarcely more than a child. Best to let her go back where she came from before one of us makes a fool of himself. Lucas was surer now than ever that he shouldn’t extend her stay. That would be the wisest course for all concerned.

  Grimly he rolled onto his back again and shut his eyes. He dared not think about how he looked forward to every new day again. Or that it was getting hard to focus on something other than that coppery hair, those soft jade eyes. Or about how empty the place would seem if she went away. He only knew he was getting a little too used to having her around, and that was not good. Not good at all.

  ❧

  The dried apple scones smelled luscious as Annora slid the hot, golden-brown mounds onto a cooling rack. They were sure to complement the cinnamon applesauce at the end of supper. As she placed the hot baking tray into the sudsy water, she heard the girls clatter down the porch steps.

  “Somebody’s comin’, Miss Annora,” Melinda called out. “Looks like company!”

  Annora moved to the open door.

  A visitor was indeed approaching. The classy red wheels of a canopied buggy rolled smoothly down the lane—and driv-ing a splendid chestnut horse was none other than Rosemary Evans.

  Annora tightened her lips. “Go get your pa, girls,” she told them, retreating back into the kitchen.

  A cheery hubbub soon carried to her ears. Determined not to give in to her curiosity, Annora kept at her chores. But before long Amy burst into the house, her childish face alight.

  “Look, Miss Annora. Isn’t it pretty?” She held out a lovely frock of sky blue organdy. “Miss Rosemary made new dresses for Sissy and me. For church. Sissy’s is pink.”

  Annora stooped down and drew the child close, admiring the flounced hem and ruffled sleeves, the abundance of lace trim. A dress elegant enough to grace even a big city church back East. “Why, it’s just beautiful, sweetheart. You’re sure to look real pretty next Sunday.”

  “Pa said Miss Rosemary could stay for supper, too. He said to tell you to set an extra place. He’s takin’ her to see the new horses.” Without waiting for a response, she tugged free and darted outside again, the new frock left behind on a kitchen chair.

  Annora’s spirit sank. For a full minute she remained where she was. Then slowly she rose and surveyed the tidy house. She had mopped and dusted earlier, so everything looked about as good as it could. It was her own appearance that left much to be desired. Why had she chosen this day to beat the big rug out on the clothesline and polish that big black stove? Those chores had left her feeling grubby to the bone, and she longed for nothing more than to soak in a big luxurious tub like the one the Baxters had—which, of course, did not exist here on the Brent farm.

  With a resigned sigh, she untied her soiled work apron and took a basin of warm water out to her room to make what repairs she could in the few private moments before Lucas and his guest would descend upon her for supper.

  Within the hour, everyone gathered around the table. Lucas, as always, occupied the head and Noah the foot, leaving one side for the girls, and the other for Annora and Rosemary. As discomfiting as it was for Annora to sit beside the bonnetmaker after bringing the fried chicken and roasted potatoes to the table, the reprieve serving the food provided was a consolation. At least Rosemary wouldn’t be eyeing her throughout the meal.

  Absorbed in her thoughts, Annora finally realized that everyone was waiting for her to ask the blessing. She moistened her lips and bowed her head. “Thank You, most gracious Heavenly Father, for giving us these rich stores from Your bounty. Please bless this food and allow us another day to serve You. Amen.”

  “My,” Rosemary gushed as she looked up, “you must have been in the kitchen all day, Amanda.”

  “Annora,” she corrected.

  “Oh. Of course. My mistake.”

  “Actually, we’ve been eatin’ real good since Annora got here,�
�� Noah piped up.

  “She even makes cookies and pies,” Melinda added.

  “You don’t say.” The milliner helped herself to a steaming potato from the bowl Lucas passed to her.

  “And,” Lucas said, “she keeps a neat house. Our little Annora has been a real asset around the place.”

  Hearing herself all but lumped in the children’s category, Annora swallowed her bite of chicken without chewing it. She toyed with the remainder of her food, pushing buttered string beans around her plate while the family chatted with their guest. Thankfully, she reminded herself, she had Lesley to pour her heart out to whenever she felt particularly depressed about anything. It took awhile for letters to go back and forth, but somehow just the writing out of her innermost feelings made dealing with things easier.

  “. . .and Sissy and me can wear our new dresses.”

  Amy’s voice drew Annora back to reality.

  “They’re so pretty,” the little one went on as she reached for her glass of milk. Halfway to her mouth it slipped from her greasy fingers and tumbled onto the table, flooding the tablecloth and spilling over onto Rosemary’s lavender skirts.

  “Oh!” the milliner gasped. “My dress!” She sprang to her feet, using her napkin to mop uselessly at the creamy blotches as the girls’ mouths gaped in horror.

  Lucas rose also but stood helplessly looking on.

  “I’ll get you a damp cloth,” Annora offered. In seconds she returned and handed the clean rag to the disgruntled guest, who was almost in tears over the ruination of her lovely ensemble.