She didn’t want to show her excitement to the others in the room. “That’s very nice, Lucy. Thank you.” She flipped open another page for Lucy’s brother.
“’Mr. Lenox was one morning riding by himself. He got off from his horse to look at something on the roadside. The horse broke away from him and ran off. Mr. Lenox ran after him, but soon found that he could not catch him.’”
Her heart sang for these children. “Excellent, Robert. Thank you. Where did you learn to read?”
“In Virginia, our father taught us, ma’am.”
She was here to make sure every last child was able to do the very same. She wanted to hug them and rejoice in this achievement, but she smiled at the siblings. “I’m excited that you have this ability. I believe you’re going to be an enormous help to the others. But also….” She closed the book and laid it down. “I have so much more to teach you. Reading opens up a whole new world, and you’ve only seen a glimpse of it so far.”
She wanted to meet the parents of all of these students. She wanted to encourage them and thank them for sending their offspring, thank them for trusting her—once a pampered Southern girl—with their children’s education.
They took their seats, and she looked over the faces turned toward her. She felt responsible, but their trust and eagerness weren’t a weight. The privilege of guiding them and their faith in her gave her purpose.
And their numbers were growing. Soon they wouldn’t fit in this tiny church building. She would have to figure out that dilemma when the time came.
Jennie Bailey answered the knock on her door with a smile. “Mrs. Cranford! Come in, please.”
Raylene stepped across the threshold into the tiny foyer. The furnished parsonage was small, but well maintained, and the reverend’s wife had incorporated many personal belongings as well as several pieces of furniture. “Please, call me Raylene.”
“Of course. Have a seat, and I’ll put on a pot of tea.”
Raylene didn’t know if her mother had ever made a pot of tea herself. Meriday’s mother had cooked all the meals, prepared for social gatherings, and even brought them tea mid-afternoon. Her mother had looked upon menial tasks as a social disgrace, but Raylene was thankful—and perhaps a little proud—that she had learned self-sufficiency.
Jennie brought a tray and served tea.
“There’s something I wish to speak with you about,” Raylene said.
“What is it, dear?”
She explained the situation with the Willow Creek students and how they were being taught in their church.
“Do they have a teacher?” she asked.
“Two of the parents and I are teaching. The children are so deserving and bright.” She went on to explain the need for lunches.
“It’s the least we can do to provide midday meals.” Jennie rested her fingertips on Raylene’s wrist. “Don’t you give this another thought. I’m going to take care of it. I’ll speak with my husband, and we’ll form a committee. You know how people love committees—and I’ll ask someone influential to chair it. It will be taken care of,” Jennie assured her.
Raylene finished her tea, thanked the woman and excused herself. She had a lot more to accomplish this day. At the mercantile, she made a few purchases, ordered one more reader, and left a note for Della Jenkins to pass along to Mr. Holden, the schoolteacher.
“How’s that baby doing?” Della asked, initiating a conversation.
The bell over the door rang, and Mary Standifer and Octavia Gaines entered the store.
“I’ll be right with you,” Della called.
“Lillian’s doing well. She smiles now.”
“What a precious age,” Della said.
“I’ve come to order fabric.” Octavia interrupted as she approached. “I’m going to have Stella make me a new dress.” She drew closer to the counter and stopped a few feet from Raylene. “Good afternoon, Missus Cranford,” she said, drawing out the prefix in a mock Southern drawl.
Raylene nodded a greeting. “Hello, Miss Gaines. Miss Standifer.”
“While lovely, that dress is not your usual finery,” Octavia said, giving Raylene’s dress the once-over. “Have you lowered your Dixie-belle standards?”
“Not a bit,” she replied. “This is my walking dress.”
“Surely your boarder would loan you a horse and carriage.”
Raylene felt the young woman’s disapproval and detested that Octavia’s thoughts bothered her. “A walk is invigorating and good for the health. Fresh air and exercise clear one’s mind and often gives perspective.”
“That’s a lot to expect from a walk,” Octavia said.
“I don’t expect more than I can make happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Have a pleasant day. Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins.”
She gathered her package and left the store.
Lillian loved story time on the veranda—or at least Raylene believed she did. She sat attentively on her lap and looked at the pictures on the pages. She got sleepy and nodded off. Raylene placed her in her basket and watched her lying peacefully, her lashes against her cheeks. She was precious and beautiful. Any manner in which Raylene could contribute to the enrichment of Lillian’s life was a blessing.
Her life and her routine had changed dramatically over the past several weeks. Everything had been about survival for so long that she hadn’t taken time to recognize and appreciate the fact that life now had more to offer. Being able to help Tanner had been a milestone. Being of assistance to him and Lillian showed she wasn’t merely hanging onto a rope dangling over an abyss. Teaching at Willow Creek School had become another turning point. Her life was stable, and she had the resources to help others.
Meriday joined her, carrying two glasses of iced tea and handed her one before sitting. “The days are getting warm earlier.”
“Summer is here,” Raylene agreed. She took a long drink. “This reminds me of afternoons at Winston Farms. We used to drink iced tea on the veranda and fan ourselves.”
“We’re far from Winston Farms,” Meriday replied.
Raylene nodded. “I want you to know that if you should want to leave here one of these days, I’ll be fine. We survived together to create a new beginning, and you should have yours without concerning yourself about me.”
Her friend turned an amused gaze on her. “This Sunday will be my first dinner with John Jay’s family, and you already have me jumping the broom.”
“They’re going to love you, and I’ve seen something happening between the two of you. It’s good. You deserve to be happy.”
“As do you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Bell bought your basket lunch.”
“Probably to ensure I’d take good care of Lillian.”
“I doubt he thinks like that,” Meriday replied.
“Maybe you suggested he buy it.”
“I did not.”
Raylene reached for her friend’s hand, and they sat like that, their locked fingers cool from their glasses, comfortable with each other. Thankful for each other.
The people of Twin Springs didn’t have to like her for her to appreciate her life or her home here, for her to be proud of their accomplishments. “This place belongs to both of us,” Raylene told her.
“The house belonged to your uncle.”
“I wouldn’t be here without you. I couldn’t have made the trip alone. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have known the first thing about setting up the house or preparing the rooms for boarders. You taught me to do laundry and cook and buy supplies.”
“You would have figured it out,” Meriday told her.
“Eventually, perhaps, but we had boarders within weeks. An income. That’s because of your skills.”
“They don’t seem so much like skills to me.”
“They are. Your know-how kept us alive. All I knew how to do was choose hats to match my dresses, discuss books and play the piano. That wouldn’t have gotten me far.”
Meriday laughed and released Raylene’s hand to rest her glass
against her temple. “Your musical ability does entertain our boarders and guests.”
“If they had to choose, I’ll bet they’d select meals and clean bedding over the piano.”
Meriday gave her tolerant smile. “Let’s agree we’re both important.”
Lillian rustled in her basket, and Raylene stood. “If you stay here for a few minutes, it’s time I introduced myself to the goat.”
After supper and chores on Saturday evening, Tanner sat with his landladies and the other boarders on the wide front porch. Raylene always called it the veranda, as though that made the space grander. It had irritated him at first, but now he was amused by her phrases and the way she sometimes put on airs.
The sound of a horse and rider caught his attention and, along with the others, he turned his attention to the man who climbed down from the brown-and-white spotted horse and walked it to the hitching post in the yard.
The man had the familiar walk of someone who spent a lot of time in the saddle as he approached the house. He recognized Russell Warner, one of the hands at the Circle J. He’d been young at the start of the war, but old enough to eventually become an infantry soldier, one of only a handful who had returned to this county. Did he need help with a horse?
Tanner stood. “Hey, Russ.”
The young man removed his hat. “Captain Bell.”
“Can I do something for you?”
“No, sir. I—uh, I came to see Mrs. Cranford.”
Raylene stood and descended the stairs.
Tanner resumed his seat.
“What can I do for you?” Raylene asked.
“I don’t know if you remember me from church. I’m Russell Warner, ma’am. I was wondrin’ if you’d do me the honor of joinin’ me for an evenin’ walk.”
Raylene glanced over her shoulder, her surprise evident. Ever the gracious and proper woman, she collected herself immediately and turned back. “Why, that would be nice, Mr. Warner. It’s a lovely evening.”
She joined him and they walked side by side to the street and strolled out of sight beyond the forsythia hedge that bordered the yard.
A caller?
Tanner crossed his ankles. Conversation picked up around him, none of it pertaining to the young man who had just asked Raylene to go walking, though they must all certainly be thinking about it. He glanced at Meriday.
She only smiled.
He should have been surprised Raylene didn’t have callers on a regular basis, but he’d never paused to think about it. She was young, beautiful, charming. He’d certainly had ideas about her. Why wouldn’t Russ Warner or any other available fellow want to keep her company? Sure, she was off-putting when a person first met her, but once a person got to know her, those exaggerated accents and airs fell away to reveal vulnerability. Intelligence. Charm.
She didn’t give many people that opportunity.
“I’m having Sunday dinner with John Jay’s family tomorrow,” Meriday announced.
Apparently, John Jay’s interest was reciprocated. He was happy for them. Tanner needed to consider what he would do once he’d made an offer on the ranch he wanted. He could leave the livery for Samuel and John Jay to run. He’d been showing the younger man how to shoe horses, and John Jay was a natural. The livery provided an income and would not be a financial burden if it continued to operate. Tanner could afford to pay him wages comparable to the mill, if he was willing.
Before, he’d imagined his sister would be with him. Now he had Lillian to consider. Getting his ranch in operating order, traveling to purchase stock, all of it would take considerable time. He’d have to hire at least one or two men, if he could find them. And he’d need someone to care for his niece while he worked.
There were plenty of women—young, not-so-young—in Twin Springs he could ask. Several of them had expressed an interest. He wasn’t flattered. Able-bodied men were scarce. Sometimes he felt guilt for his life and his health. He’d been imprisoned with men who were dying, men with wounds so grievous they’d be impaired for the rest of their lives, men whose minds were crippled from the traumas they’d seen and endured. He was healthy and on track to be a ranch owner. Merely breathing and walking was his true appeal.
He gave Lillian her last feeding for the evening and excused himself to go upstairs. Raylene and her new friend hadn’t returned yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to see them when they did.
Russell Warner showed up in church the next morning. Raylene had only seen him there a time or two, so his attendance today was immediately suspect. He sought her out and sat beside her, garnering looks from the other young woman and a curious smile from Jennie. He smelled like bay rum and bore a shaving nick on his chin.
She had politely accepted his invitation the previous evening, though she’d been uncomfortable. He’d been inordinately polite and respectfully called her ma’am, which was a term she usually appreciated. In this case, it had made her feel old. In the daylight, he was average in height and appearance, with dark brown eyes and thick brows.
His intent was obvious. He was here to court her.
She should have been grateful, she supposed. There were plenty of younger, prettier women. But when he hinted for an invitation to dinner, she ignored it and excused herself to go home. He was a complication she didn’t need right now, and she was on her own preparing the noon meal.
Before heading for the door, she paused for the hatbox she’d left on a shelf in the coatroom. At the exit, she shook hands with Reverend Bailey and spoke to his wife. “I have something for you, Jennie.”
Jennie’s eyebrows rose as she eyed the box. “For me?”
“I’ll hold it while you remove the lid. Go ahead.”
The minister’s wife glanced around and gestured for Raylene to step back inside the building away from the last churchgoers. She removed the lid to expose a small straw bonnet with purple lining turned back so it showed around the brim. It was trimmed with purple and white ribbon, white head plumes from an egret, and streamers of ribbon intended to hang down the wearer’s back.
Jennie’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at Raylene. “This is for me? Why, I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t know that I can accept such an extravagant gift. I’ve never had anything so beautiful.”
“You will most certainly accept it and wear it with that lavender dress with the purple trim.”
“That is my best dress,” she said with a pleased smile. “Was this your mother’s hat?”
Raylene nodded. “I’ve never worn it. She would have wanted someone to enjoy it. Underneath the tissue, there’s a small chatelaine velvet pocket for special occasions.”
Jennie hugged her with one hand on the lid, the other around Raylene. She replaced the lid and smiled. “Thank you. I can’t wait to wear this.”
“You’re most welcome.”
Raylene told the minister good-bye and headed home. She’d planned a simple Sunday dinner and set the table the night before. This morning Meriday had helped her with preparations, so now she heated vegetables and quickly fried slices of ham. She’d previously baked cornbread and left beans on the stove, so she served up the food.
Tanner said the blessing, and they ate.
“It’s unusual to not have Meriday with us,” Almira commented.
“I thought perhaps your young cowboy would be coming for dinner,” Emerald said with an inquisitive raise of her brows.
“He seemed very interested,” Almira agreed. “Even sitting with you in church.”
Raylene finished a bite. The ladies weren’t teasing; they were interested. “He is not my young cowboy. He would have liked an invitation to dinner, but I didn’t offer him one.”
“Is he not to your liking?” Almira asked.
Raylene shrugged. “I’m sure he’s a nice enough fellow. Courting leads to expectations for marriage, however, and I’m not interested.”
“You don’t want to marry again?” Emerald asked.
“I’ve worked too hard for this place to ma
rry and have everything belong to a husband.”
Abraham had been silent throughout the conversation until now. “You might change your mind one day,” he said.
Surprised at his participation in the conversation about her imagined love life, she looked over. “Perhaps.”
Tanner said nothing. He simply gave her a noncommittal smile. Maybe she had objected too much. She had always wanted a husband and children, but admitting it would make her feel vulnerable. She’d been married once, and the experience had been disheartening. She was no longer an insipid burden on anyone, and she didn’t need a man taking care of her.
After the meal, Abraham thanked her and took his leave. She stacked plates, and Tanner helped carry dishes to the kitchen. She washed and Almira showed up to dry and stack. Tanner carried them to the china cabinet.
“I was thinking I could locate a small table and carry it to the porch for anyone who wants to play checkers this afternoon,” Raylene suggested. “I noticed all sorts of tables in the attic.”
Almira nodded without enthusiasm.
“Perhaps all of you ladies would like an afternoon ride,” Tanner suggested.
Almira’s face lit with interest. “In one of your buggies?”
An outing did sound like a refreshing change of routine. Raylene washed the last coffee cup and set it on the drainboard. “I could prepare drinks to take along.”
“Do you have a destination in mind?” Almira asked.
“There are flat shady spots along the river,” Tanner replied. “I can find a suitable place.”
The older woman folded and hung the towel. “I’ll let Miss Cameron know and we’ll get our hats.”
She hurried out of the kitchen.
Chapter Ten
“It’s thoughtful of you to think of an outing for the ladies,” Raylene told Tanner. “Their only regular activity is church.”
“I was thinking of you, as well,” he replied. “You don’t have much time for leisure. And the sun and air will be good for Lillian. I’ll go hitch up a rig and be back in about twenty minutes.”
Tanner (Bachelors and Babies Book 14) Page 11
