Romancing the Bride
Page 19
Though the three men had been upset that after a full day of searching they’d found no tracks worth following, she wasn’t.
She hadn’t forgotten how much a person’s livelihood could be chipped away by rustlers just because her cattle were munching away on someone else’s property, but the potential loss of Jacob had nearly frozen her heart in place.
What would she do without him?
Though this parlor felt homey now with her chairs, tables, knickknacks, and lanterns lining the walls, without Jacob sitting on the rug, reading a Bible story with character voices and silly sounds to enliven the story, the place would be lifeless.
Right now, half a dozen children sat cross-legged on the floor while others were piled upon the chairs and sofa, eating the cookies she’d baked that morning.
Three-year-old Rebecca left her place on the rug to curl up in Jacob’s lap. Her new seat had to be more comfortable than the chair Annie sat on with her back ramrod straight like Mother had made sure she’d done ever since she was little. Or was it because she’d yet to fully relax since Jacob had informed her that someone had intentionally tried to take his life?
Jacob reached around Rebecca to turn the page as he finished reading David and Goliath’s story. His long legs were folded beneath him as he sat on the floor, his back against an end table, Rebecca sunk into his chest as if she belonged there.
Mother would be appalled at how these children sprawled about the room, and yet, Annie was a bit jealous of Rebecca’s seating situation, no matter how unladylike.
Jacob shut his Bible and laid it on the rug. “We never know when a big ol’ giant is going to challenge us, whether it’s a bully of a giant or a giant of a problem. But, like David, if we pray to God, believing he can help us do anything, we can be as brave as David was.”
“And if God chooses not to help?” Celia stood slouched in the corner. She’d wanted to stay in her room this morning, but Jacob had given her two choices: attend the adults’ class or the children’s. Celia had slunk down the stairs as if he’d asked her to sit in boiling water.
Please, Lord, help her hold her tongue or choose her words wisely.
Celia leaned forward, arms crossed. “My daddy didn’t deserve getting shot, but God didn’t stop him from dying. And Jennie is as good a Christian as her ma, and after her accident, she’ll never see again.”
Annie dug her fingers into her chair’s armrests. Next week, Celia was definitely attending the adult class.
“I didn’t say God helps you by giving you what you want.” Jacob shifted the curly blond toddler in his lap as if Celia’s question was nothing out of the ordinary.
Had her daughter been badgering him every week?
“What I said was, you can ask God for courage to face your problems. There are days when being a marshal is a dangerous thing, but God helps me face it. When Jennie feels overwhelmed or discouraged—”
“But it’s not fair.” Celia’s words came out so forcefully, she’d almost spit on the carpet.
Several kids kept their gazes fastened to the rug at their feet, while others glanced between stepfather and stepdaughter. Would Jacob discipline Celia for her disrespectful tone or let it slide? Celia had been unusually well-behaved the last few days, but this morning, she seemed intent on antagonizing him.
“Not many things in life are fair, and I’m sorry,” he finally answered.
“You got that right.” Celia’s response was but a whisper.
“Life isn’t fair, but that doesn’t mean God has abandoned us.” Jacob looked at each child in the room. “He won’t always get us out of trouble, especially if we make the trouble ourselves.”
He turned back to Celia. “When we do wrong, we can’t be surprised if we get disciplined. But even if you’re not responsible for the things that happen to you, God can help you be brave and strong.”
The clock chimed the half hour, and Jacob prayed.
Once he said ‘amen,’ Annie gestured to the two boys who’d fidgeted the most. “Mark and Isaiah, why don’t you start our line?”
The children scrambled up and out the door, and Annie let Celia pass without a word.
As much as she wanted to chastise Celia about her apparent need to make a scene wherever she went, she’d hold her tongue for now. After lunch, however, she’d inform her daughter that she’d be joining the adult class next Sunday. Perhaps being the youngest in the group might rein in her tongue.
Upon entering the sanctuary, every child scurried to sit with family, and Annie followed hers to their usual pew.
Jacob slid in beside her and draped his arm around her shoulder as if he’d done so every Sunday. She refused to look around at who might be glaring at them for sitting so close, because today, his arm around her was a blessing.
She looked up and his smile caused her neck to prickle with heat, and she couldn’t look away.
She forced herself not to squirm. It wasn’t as if his arm tucked behind her was inappropriate. Now, if he’d leaned down for a kiss, that would be...
His lips twitched and she looked up.
He winked.
Her body flushed, and she quickly faced the front where the pastor was flipping through his hymnal.
Imagine that.
Winking in church with a look like that on his face.
But then, she’d been the one who’d been thinking about kissing in church.
The flutter of pages all around her made her flush again. Had the pastor called the song number already?
She snatched up her hymnal and tried to peek over the pew to see what song they were about to sing, but Mrs. Tate held her hymnal too close for Annie to see a thing.
Leah started playing, but it wasn’t an opening she recognized.
She looked to Jacob who was still smiling, seemingly not at all inclined to save her by taking over the hymnal.
She handed the songbook across Jacob’s lap to Spencer. “Why don’t you be in charge of the hymnal?”
Thankfully, Spencer took the book and started flipping pages without asking for the number.
Jacob caught her eye and winked again.
In front of them, Mrs. Tate belted out the first words of the song. Luckily, the old woman was all about formalities and wouldn’t dare turn around during service to catch her sitting snug against Jacob.
How much of a stir would she cause if her family moved to the empty pew at the back of the church? Ever since the day Mrs. Tate had chastised her about those oysters, sitting behind her every Sunday felt as if Mother were once again beside her, ready to rap her daughter’s knees any time her legs jiggled.
Perhaps Mrs. Tate’s censure was affecting her as much as it was because she’d yet to write Mother about Jacob. The reply would inevitably contain an echo of Mrs. Tate’s lecture on the indecency of marrying before her mourning period was over, and she’d not wanted to endure that twice.
But keeping her marriage a secret only legitimized Mrs. Tate’s opinion that she’d done wrong. Would facing her mother’s indignation help wipe away the guilt Leah insisted she needn’t feel and allow her to move on with life? With this man who might not be here as long as she needed him to be?
The congregation began verse two, and Celia was giving her the side-eye, clearly wondering why she hadn’t started singing yet.
Annie scooted closer to Jacob since Spencer wasn’t holding the hymnal out far enough to see and joined in with the third verse.
For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friend on earth, and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild;
Christ our God, to thee we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise.
She bowed her head. Was this merely coincidence or was God telling her she could revel in the feelings she was shying away from and simply praise Him for them?
Of course, the song was describing familial love, not those of attraction. Though a husband and wife’s bond created
family.
Annie gave up singing and concentrated on not thinking about that any further.
God might be absolutely fine with her thinking about all the ways she could rejoice in her groom.
But surely not this very minute.
“Annie.”
Leah caught her just as she stepped across the sanctuary’s threshold into the church foyer. The older woman’s face was shining brighter than the afternoon sun streaming through the stained glass.
Annie’s lips curved up to match Leah’s. “What can I do for you?”
“Eat lunch with us. Where’s your basket for the auction?”
Annie frowned. She’d rarely been able to stay for after-church fundraisers. “Why would I make a basket? Isn’t that for the single ladies?”
“Why should they have all the fun?” Leah raised her basket and jiggled it a bit. “We know exactly who’ll buy ours!”
She shook her head at Leah’s exuberance. “And if Bryant gets outbid?”
“Won’t happen. He knows which is mine, and if someone has a hankering for my pie enough to run up the bids, it just makes him more charitable.”
Annie laughed. “Why not simply hand your money over to the schoolmaster?”
“That’s no fun.” Leah’s eyes twinkled. “Besides, Bryant needs a little competition. Keeps him from taking me for granted.”
“I’ll consider that next time.” However, this was not the year to make a scene out of Jacob bidding on her basket. “Though surely once Bryant starts bidding, everyone realizes it’s yours.”
“I don’t let him start bidding until it reaches five dollars.” Leah looped her arm around Annie’s as they took a few steps forward in line. “But you’re right. They usually stop bidding, but not always. My meringue’s the best in the county, you know. Two years ago, Jacob decided he wanted the pie for himself. When Bryant bid six, he bid fifty.” Leah chuckled. “We couldn’t afford it, and Bryant groused the rest of the afternoon because Jacob refused to share. But then, when you single-handedly pay for all of next year’s school books, you deserve to eat the whole pie in a sitting if you so desire.”
Up ahead, Jacob was helping the widow Morris down the front steps.
Fifty dollars for a pie? When was the man not doing something good for someone in the community?
“I see you’re giving in.”
Annie turned back to Leah. “Giving in to what?”
“Him. And there’s no mistaking how he looks at you.” Leah pulled her arm away when she spotted Bryant weaving through the line toward them. “Bryant, darling.”
Annie schooled her features. She didn’t know how she’d looked at Jacob to make Leah say that, but whatever the expression, she didn’t want Mrs. Tate to see it. And since that woman was just now shaking hands with Jacob, she didn’t want him to look at her and earn himself a lecture on how he should or shouldn’t look at his wife in the house of God.
And yet, why worry about that anyway? She’d been looking forward to spending the day with him without the demand of jobs and chores, but if she was constantly worrying about what her face looked like, how would she have any fun at the picnic, let alone relax?
Her husband had come back alive and intact. What was there not to celebrate about that?
Bryant put an arm around Leah’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “You’re much too eager to watch me empty my pockets on something that’s mine by rights.”
He smiled over the top of Leah’s head at Annie. Though he was still rather distant, he’d eased up on the cold stares he’d given her weeks ago. “Has my wife convinced you to eat with us yet? Considering I won’t have to compete with your husband for my pie this year, I think I can stand to share our lunch with him.”
“Actually, Annie didn’t make a basket for auction, so you might still have competition.”
Bryant groaned.
After shaking hands with Mrs. Tate’s son, Jacob walked back their way, giving several people a pat on the back before joining them. He pulled Annie into a side embrace, though she couldn’t quite melt into her husband’s side like Leah was doing.
She smiled up at him. “Would you mind if we joined Leah and Bryant for lunch?”
“I think I can find at least one reason to force myself to sit next to them for an hour.”
Bryant rolled his eyes. “Don’t count on me sharing. I didn’t eat breakfast, so I have a hole that needs to be patched with meringue.”
Jacob grinned. “Who said you’re going to win the pie?”
The front door banged open and Spencer raced in. “I can’t find Celia anywhere!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Shielding her eyes, Annie searched the gathering crowd for a splash of Celia’s orange print dress. She’d evidently agreed to run the three-legged race with Spencer, and now he was upset she’d run off after church.
Their afternoon of relaxation and fun wasn’t starting off too well.
Spencer plopped down onto the picnic blanket Annie had laid out while Leah helped her eldest daughter unload her wagon. “She promised me,” he grumbled.
“Then she will.” Annie sighed and dropped her hand from her face. Celia had been less than trustworthy lately, but she’d done nothing to purposely disappoint her brother—yet. “The race doesn’t start until after lunch anyway.”
“What if she doesn’t come back?”
Annie frowned at the crowd, not seeing a single hint of her daughter’s long auburn hair. “Why not ask a schoolmate to run with you?”
“All the kids in my class are girls.” Spencer ripped up a handful of grass.
“What about Joe?” The neighbor kid was sitting on a bench near the band. Was he holding his violin case or someone else’s? Surely his parents wouldn’t allow him to play in public. “He’s only a few years ahead of you.”
“He can’t run with his glasses on.”
“He could take them off.” If Spencer kept Joe busy running races, the young man couldn’t play his violin.
“He can’t. Don’t know why though. I can’t see anything when I try them on.”
Perhaps blindness explained Joe’s terrible fiddling.
The band members started tuning their instruments, and unfortunately, Joe joined right in. Hopefully he’d be drowned out.
Jacob had told her he looked forward to twirling her about the dance floor to the accompaniment of a well-played violin, but if Joe screeched through the songs and Mrs. Tate sat by glowering at her and Jacob, how could she possibly enjoy herself?
And if he kissed her at the end like last time? She held her breath. Gregory would’ve never kissed her in public, but Jacob...
She’d always been at ease with Gregory, no surprises, no lavish compliments, no worries about whether or not he’d kiss her in front of anyone and everyone.
And yet, whenever Jacob was around, he made her jittery in a way she’d never been before. Maybe a relationship of a different sort wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Spencer threw a wad of grass at his shoes, stood, and brushed himself off. “Do you think Pa would run with me?”
Gregory?
Oh, Jacob.
A spot inside her chest both froze and melted.
It hurt a little knowing Spencer had already moved on to calling Jacob “Pa,” and yet, hadn’t she just been miffed that Mrs. Tate would make it hard for her to enjoy dancing with her new husband?
If it wasn’t for all these people, she’d be wondering when their next kiss might be instead of worrying about it.
“Mama? I said, ‘do you think he’ll run with me?’”
“What? Oh.” She needed to keep her head out of the clouds. “Can’t hurt to ask.”
Annie scanned the grounds again, this time for Jacob. He’d gone off looking for Celia, and if he’d found her, Spencer wouldn’t be disappointed if Jacob said no.
Leah, carrying a quilt and a basket bedecked with curly green ribbon, wove her way through the crowd toward the auctioneer’s table.
Leah made her way toward them and unfolded her quilt to place it next to theirs. “I’m glad you snagged this spot; it’ll make Ava happy. Her ankles are so swollen; she’s second-guessing whether she should’ve come. At least there’s shade.” She waved at Bryant, who’d just joined the crowd near the auctioneer. “She says she’s quite anxious to have that baby in her arms, but she can’t nearly be as excited as I am about my first grandbaby.”
The schoolmaster, Mr. Hucket, who seemed too young and short to teach Armelle’s oldest students, waved his arms from where he stood behind the baskets.
Whistles and commands to shush popped up sporadically until the crowd quieted.
“Since we’re all hungry—” He pulled on his bowtie while clearing his throat, probably in attempt to eradicate the warble that had cracked his voice. “—let’s get to the auction.”
A shout of hoorahs started another round of shushing.
How did this man control a classroom of children when public speaking affected him so? He’d never visited to complain to her about her daughter’s behavior in class. What magic had he wrought to keep Celia from running right over him?
“Remember, men, be generous. You reap what you sow, and it’s for a good cause.” Mr. Hucket’s voice squeaked, but the crowd drowned him out with shouts of agreement.
“We won’t get new desks without your help!” Though surely he realized hardly anyone heard his last sentence, he turned to the first basket and tried to catch the tiny paper tag fluttering off its handle.
Poor man, why hadn’t someone volunteered to run the auction for him?
“This basket contains fried chicken, turnip greens, stewed apples, and sugar cookies. Let’s start the bidding at twenty-five cents.”