“I have exciting news,” she explained. “My father has given his blessing for me to stay with you permanently. I can be there with you even on Saturdays and Sundays from now on.”
Ellie’s smiled dimmed slightly.
Lorabeth’s breath hitched in her chest.
“This is such a surprise,” Ellie said. “I don’t know what to think.”
Lorabeth had placed all her hopes on Ellie accepting her. She’d faced her father and won his approval. If Ellie didn’t want her full-time, her dream would be dashed. She’d been so sure. She’d been so…impulsive.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Ellie asked, concern creasing her brow. “You’re a young woman, Lorabeth. You deserve time for yourself. I don’t expect you to work seven days a week. You do so much for me now, and I can’t afford to pay you what you’re worth.”
“My pay is sufficient, that’s not a problem. And I won’t work seven days. If it’s all right with you, I’ll take a couple of mornings off during the week.” Lorabeth’s heart pounded in apprehension.
“But of course it’s all right.” Ellie grasped Lorabeth’s hand. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re the best present I ever got.”
Relief lifted the cloak of concern from Lorabeth and she could breathe again. Tears smarted behind her eyes.
“No more than you deserve, my dear.” Caleb Chaney had overheard and now wrapped his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders.
“If you’re certain this is what you want, then I’m delighted,” Ellie told her, still clinging to her hand.
There was no doubt in her mind. She had promised her mother she wouldn’t abandon her dreams, and this was an important step toward keeping that promise. “I’m certain.”
The room had grown quiet. Lorabeth turned to find people settled in their pews and her father casting her a stern look from his place behind the pulpit. She gave Ellie a last appreciative smile, then squeezed her hand before releasing it and hurrying to her seat at the organ. She played the introduction to the first hymn, and the people stood.
A tall, broad-shouldered latecomer entered, casting a long shadow in the patch of sunlight on the smooth wooden floor before closing the door behind him. He removed his hat, revealing sandy-colored hair, and moved forward along the outside aisle to join his family.
Benjamin Chaney, Newton’s young veterinarian, took a seat beside his brother, Flynn, at the end of the Chaney pew, and little Anna immediately reached for him. He and Flynn weren’t actually Chaneys, from what Lorabeth understood. Shortly after Caleb and Ellie were married, the doctor had adopted her two brothers.
Benjamin had his own place and was still somewhat of a mystery to Lorabeth. Though he’d established his practice the better part of a year ago, all she knew of him was what she observed on Sundays and the occasional brief times he stopped by the house, and that was that he was part of a close-knit family unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her own household.
Lorabeth didn’t know much about Ellie’s life before she’d married Caleb. No relatives other than Caleb’s ever visited or were mentioned. From all she’d observed, the Chaneys were a tight-knit, loving family.
And they were the key to liberation she’d always wanted and yearned for. Lorabeth played with new determination, glancing up often to appreciate the family into which she had ingratiated herself. Becoming a permanent part of their household would be a dream come true. The past two years had been the best of her life, but to truly fulfill her wishes she would have to work doubly hard and prove herself. She prayed she was up to the task.
Chapter Two
“Benjamin, you should sell the house in town and live in the other one,” his sister Ellie said as she placed a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. “How can you keep up both places when you’re so busy?”
It was a customary Sunday dinner at his sister’s. Ben still wasn’t used to this house. He hadn’t been living with them when they’d moved here. He’d gone to university only a few years after Caleb and Ellie had married, and during that time more children had been born to them. As their family had grown, Caleb and Ellie had needed more space. The seven-bedroom dwelling had belonged to a railroad tycoon and had sat empty for a year before Caleb bought it.
“It’s just a house,” his sister was saying. “Be practical. Sell it.”
The house she referred to was the one they’d all lived in together. Ben was buying it from Caleb on monthly payments, but he’d also purchased property and buildings on the outskirts of town for his veterinary practice. He had needed stables and a place to do surgery. The new place had been a necessity, but he couldn’t let the old one go. There were too many memories in those rooms.
“You might as well be talking into a bucket,” Caleb said to his wife.
Ellie looked at Benjamin. “You’re not listening to me, are you?”
He shook his head with a grin.
“Sit down, Ellie.” Caleb pulled out a chair and insisted that his wife take a seat. “I’ll bring the rest of the food from the kitchen. Flynn will help.”
Ben’s brother jumped up to assist. Caleb was more like a father to him than a brother-in-law. Flynn would walk over hot coals to please Caleb.
Though Flynn was eighteen, he was still finishing school. He’d only attended one or two years before coming to live with Caleb and Ellie. He hadn’t caught up as quickly as Ben, though he’d accomplished a significant achievement and would earn his diploma this year.
Ben discussed school with Nate and David until the food was all set and bowls passed.
Caleb paused behind Ellie, his hand on her shoulder, and leaned down to speak near her ear. She turned to look at her husband with such tenderness in her expression that an ache expanded in Benjamin’s chest. She cupped Caleb’s jaw, and their lips touched briefly.
None of the children had noticed the typical display of affection. Ben looked away, spooned up some potatoes and placed them on Lillith’s plate.
Ellie was the mother every child deserved. If Ben ever had children he would want them as content and safe as Ellie’s. On occasion he’d thought about having his own family, but always dismissed the idea in a hurry. He wouldn’t want to mess them up.
“You’re a good cook, Mama,” Nate said.
Ellie cast him a grateful smile. “Why, thank you.”
It had never made a lick of difference to his sister that Nate had been born of Caleb’s first wife, Ben thought. The children had always been treated equally and fairly. Just like it had never made a difference to Caleb that his wife and her brothers didn’t even know who their fathers were. You were who you were in this family, no matter where you came from.
“Do horses hafta eat nasty ol’ green beans, Uncle Ben?” Lillith asked.
“No, horses eat oats and hay and sorghum with a little molasses added. They crop grass, too. Have to watch they don’t get into weeds though, ’cause they’ll twist their insides.”
Lillith’s eyes widened. “What if green beans do that to my innards?”
“They won’t,” Ellie replied. “You’re a little girl, not a horse. Little girls need vegetables to grow strong.”
While his sister was helping Anna with her meat, Ben leaned over and stabbed a heaping forkful of beans from Lillith’s plate and popped them into his mouth. She looked from him to her mother and grinned.
“I saw that,” Ellie said.
Everyone at the table laughed, but a knock at the door interrupted their humor.
“I’ll get it.” Ben pushed back his chair and gestured for Ellie to stay seated. “If it’s a patient, I’ll come get you,” he told Caleb.
His boots echoed across the floor of the huge wood-paneled foyer before Ben reached the door and opened it. “Hi.”
Ellie’s helper, Lorabeth, stood on the porch, her arms filled with an overflowing crate. The drawstrings of a lumpy cloth bag hung from her elbow. Another stack of packed items stood on the painted floor behind her. Her
presence here on a Sunday was surprising, as was the sight of the preacher behind her, still in his dark suit and starched white shirt. He stood holding his hat by the brim.
“Miss Holdridge. Reverend. Come on in.”
She moved past him and glanced toward the dining room. “Did we interrupt dinner? Perhaps I was in too much of a rush.”
Ben reached for the preacher’s hat, but the man held on. “I won’t be staying.”
“We were just startin’ to eat. You’re welcome to join us.” He gestured toward the other room.
“We’ve already eaten,” Reverend Holdridge said.
“Well, come have a seat, anyway. I can see Lorabeth is achin’ to talk to Ellie.” He took the crate from her arms and set it on the floor at the foot of the stairs. “Movin’ in?”
Her bright, tawny eyes sparkled. “Yes.”
He’d been kidding, so her reply took him by surprise. She set down the bags and removed her bonnet. Shiny curls the color of honey fell to her shoulders. During the week she wore her hair in a more practical braided fashion.
She hadn’t changed out of the high-necked spring-green dress that she’d worn while playing the organ that morning. He glanced at the stern-faced man waiting just inside the door. He was watching Ben like a hawk, and Ben appreciated the man’s protectiveness toward his daughter. “Inspiring message this morning, Reverend.”
“Thank you, Benjamin. Which part did you especially appreciate?”
Ben knew he was being tested to see if he’d paid attention. “I liked what you said about pressing toward the goal with singular determination. Looking at the circumstance on the left or the right can get mighty confusin’.”
Reverend Holdridge’s eyebrows rose in appreciation. “It blesses a preacher’s heart to see a young man such as yourself in church every Sunday. Unmarried young men of your age are often feeling unwell on Sunday mornings.”
Ben couldn’t help grinning at his elusion to the men occupying the saloons till the wee hours of the morning. “I’m not a drinkin’ man, sir.”
“Admirable,” the reverend replied. He glanced around at the furnishings and decor. “Please tell Dr. Chaney that I require a moment of his time.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll join the others in the dining room,” Lorabeth said.
Ben nodded and gestured for her to move ahead of him. She usually smelled more like bread and babies than the soft floral scent floating behind her now, and he wasn’t sure why the difference disturbed him. Lorabeth made Ellie’s life easier, and anything that made Ellie happy was fine by Ben.
She reached the wide doorway ahead of him, but paused as if unsure of her welcome.
“Lorabeth is here,” he announced from beside her.
The picture of the Chaneys seated around the table made Lorabeth feel like an outsider for mere seconds until she reminded herself she was here to join them. Heads turned, and they greeted her with smiles.
Lillith jumped down from her chair and Lorabeth knelt for a hug. At the warm welcome, her heart swelled.
“Reverend Holdridge would like a word with you,” Ben told Caleb.
Lorabeth glanced over from where she knelt and noticed Caleb and Ellie exchange a glance. Caleb laid down his napkin and stood. “Excuse me.”
“Uncle Ben ate my green beans,” Lillith whispered in her ear.
Lorabeth glanced up at Benjamin who waited with her chair pulled out. She gave Lillith a gentle hug and stood so she could be seated.
“Ben, will you get Lorabeth a plate?” Ellie asked, as Lorabeth got settled.
“I had a quick bite at home—I mean at my father’s,” she corrected herself. This was home now. “I could get a plate myself though. I’m not company, you know.”
“No, you’re not. Stay seated, anyway,” Ellie insisted and smiled at Ben.
He headed into the kitchen and returned with a plate and silverware. She’d never had a man wait on her in this manner, and she noticed his long thumb and fingers as he set down the rose-patterned china in front of her.
“Where are the napkins?” he asked, his voice near her shoulder.
He stood closer to her than any man except her father or brothers had ever stood, and his nearness unnerved her. Without thinking, Lorabeth gestured toward the built-in sideboard. “In the second drawer there.”
He got one and shook out the folds before handing it to her.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and he resumed his seat on the opposite side of the table, but several chairs away.
“Lorabeth is going to be living here,” Ellie announced.
“Even Saturdays and Sundays,” Lorabeth added unnecessarily.
“But you will take your two mornings off,” Ellie insisted. “And you’ll have minimal responsibilities over the weekend. You need time for yourself and your own interests. Seeing friends and the like.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lorabeth answered, a wee bit troubled over misleading Ellie about her intentions for her mornings off. Promising to handle her father’s household on those days had been the only way she could make this work, but she wanted to be here so badly that she would have made any sacrifice.
She helped herself to small portions of food as Benjamin and Ellie passed the dishes. She picked up her fork while conversation ebbed around her. She’d eaten many meals with this family over the past two years, and she never lost her appreciation for their easy chatter and the relaxed atmosphere. Growing up in her father’s home, she and her siblings had been required to sit straight and eat quietly.
“I’ve purchased a piano for the parlor,” Ellie announced. “It should arrive sometime next week.”
“Who plays the piano?” Flynn asked.
“Aunt Patricia plays the piano at Nana’s house!” Lillith replied.
“You children will play once you’ve had lessons,” Ellie told them.
“I don’t wanna play no piano,” Nate declared with a frown.
“I’m certainly not going to force you.” Ellie dabbed her lip with her napkin. “But I do ask you to try before you say no.”
In his father’s temporary absence, Nate looked to Benjamin as though he might get some support from the only man at the table.
Lorabeth couldn’t help wondering how Ellie’s handsome brother was going to respond.
Benjamin didn’t hesitate before saying, “If you try playing and don’t like it—or you can’t get the hang of it—there’s no shame in making the effort and decidin’ it’s not for you.”
Lorabeth smiled at that reasoning.
“I bet it’s hard,” David said. “Is it hard, Miss Lorrie?”
Benjamin turned his distracting gaze to Lorabeth. His eyes were piercingly blue and expectant and the direct look made her stomach quiver.
She had to look away and gather her thoughts to answer David’s question. “Not that difficult, dear. You’ll learn to read the notes. You’re all bright children, so it won’t be a problem. Then you’ll learn where to place your fingers on the keys, and after that it simply takes a lot of practice.”
“Maybe Miss Lorrie can give us our lessons,” Lillith suggested with a hopeful smile.
“Miss Lorrie does enough already without adding more to her list of duties,” Ellie told her daughter.
“But she can play for us, can’t she?”
“If she wants to.”
“Will you, Mith Lorrie?” Anna asked. “Will you play for uth? We can thing!”
“I like ‘My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,’ don’t you, Mama?” Lillith asked.
Uncomfortable warmth flooded Lorabeth’s neck and face. “I’m afraid I don’t know that one.”
“Then, ‘Turkey in the Thtraw!’” Anna shouted.
She regretted disappointing the children, and more than that she was embarrassed at her incompetence. Lorabeth’s knowledge and experience was so narrow she’d never known anyone who owned a piano for a purpose other than worship. “I don’t know that one, either.”
Lillith got that char
mingly inquisitive crease between her pale eyebrows. “But you play music every Sunday.”
“I only know hymns,” she explained. “But I could learn to play those songs you like if I had the sheets of music.”
“Can we help you put your dresses an’ stuff away, Miss Lorrie?” Lillith asked in a typically abrupt change of subject.
“Miss Lorrie is capable of putting away her own clothing,” Ellie told the girls. “Ben will carry her things up the stairs. Do you have much more to bring?”
Lorabeth shook her head. “It’s all in the foyer.”
She glanced at Benjamin and their eyes met for an uncomfortable moment while she wondered what he was thinking. The Chaneys weren’t ostentatious by any means, but they were well off, living with fine furnishings and wearing fashionable clothing. All of her modest belongings were in those few crates and bags. She lowered her gaze and looked away. It was a big wide world, and she only knew a tiny fraction of it.
She remembered her father’s visit and strained to hear any snippets of conversation coming from another room, but the house was large, and Caleb had most likely taken him into the parlor and closed the doors. Her father had agreed to her plan, and she prayed there would be no reason for him to change his mind or add any more ultimatums. She could only imagine what he was thinking of Dr. Chaney after seeing his lavish home.
They had finished eating by the time Caleb returned to the dining room alone.
Lorabeth’s heart fluttered nervously, waiting to hear what he had to say, praying her father wouldn’t change his mind.
Chapter Three
Lorabeth clutched her hands in her lap, compelled to explain. “My father has very rigid ideas about propriety, Dr. Chaney.”
“He’s concerned for the welfare of his unmarried young daughter,” Caleb replied, his voice as kind as she’d always heard it. “Which I can appreciate.”
Lorabeth stood. “Let me reheat your dinner for you.”
Caleb raised a palm to stop her. “My food is fine.” He placed his napkin in his lap and picked up his fork.
The Preacher’s Daughter Page 2
