by Lori Wick
He opened his mouth to tell her not to take much time, but his wife’s observation came back to him. He also wondered if she’d been fed enough over the years. Not even he could be so cruel.
“No,” he said shortly and turned to sit behind the desk, effectively putting an end to the conversation.
Reese didn’t linger. Sitting halfway down the green, the largest house in town awaited her. She knew she had not a moment to spare.
“You’re filthy,” Mrs. Greenlowe observed when noon rolled around and Reese stepped into her kitchen from the porch.
“What does he have you doing today?”
“I’ll tell you all about it during dinner, if you’ll allow me into the house looking like this.”
“Of course I will,” she returned, becoming all at once brisk.
“Get yourself in here.”
“I’m starving,” Reese said as she sat down, trying not to move too much.
“Well, go ahead and pray!” Mrs. Greenlowe said with excitement. “I’ve got to know where you’ve been.”
Reese had to control her laughter first. She had never met anyone like her landlady. She was unfailingly harsh to the unjust, but to the hard-working she was completely accepting.
“Heavenly Father,” Reese began. “Thank You for this wonderful food and for all of Mrs. Greenlowe’s hard work. Thank You for strong bodies and capable minds. You’ve blessed us this day, Lord. Amen.”
Food was being pushed in Reese’s direction when she said, “I’m at the Kingsley house.”
Mrs. Greenlowe actually gasped, “No one’s lived there for years!”
“That’s why I’m covered in webs and dust.”
“Why are you there?”
“I was told I had a week to clean it.”
“A week?” Mrs. Greenlowe nearly came out of her chair, but a look from Reese stopped her. “All right, I won’t start on that bank manager, but only because I want to know what it’s like in that house.”
Reese actually whispered, “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such high ceilings, and the main stairway,” Reese paused to smile, “is curved and open and wide. Even the portraits are still hanging on the walls.
“And in the dining room, the dish cupboards are built directly into the walls. That room is so spacious that it holds a table with ten chairs and still has room for the fireplace and fabric-covered chairs in three of the corners.”
“How many fireplaces did you see?”
“I counted six, but I just did a swift walk through the downstairs.”
“So you started upstairs?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to track that dirt through a clean house.”
“Good idea,” Mrs. Greenlowe complimented her. “What of the kitchen and buttery?”
“The kitchen is on the main level, and it’s large.
“And the buttery?”
“It’s below.”
“Three stories?” The older woman was astonished and stopped. “The property drops away to the barn and outbuildings on that side, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, and the buttery’s huge! Two rooms to work in, plus extra storage, and so many built-in shelves and cupboards …”
Just then Reese remembered she had no time to linger and tucked into her food. Mrs. Greenlowe opened her mouth to ask another question and knew it would have to wait. While Reese finished, Mrs. Greenlowe had an idea.
“You might get hungry and thirsty this afternoon.” Mrs. Greenlowe’s attempt to sound casual failed miserably. “I might need to bring you something.”
Reese’s shoulder shook with laughter as she said, “Don’t let Mr. Jenness see you.”
“How far did you get?” Mr. Jenness asked of Reese, and she wondered whether he talked to everyone as he talked to her: never a greeting, just demands and commands.
“Two rooms are completely clean. I’ve started on a third, and I think the rest is manageable. Are there certain rooms you want me to concentrate on in case I don’t get done?”
“No, if you’re not going to finish, let me know with enough time to hire more help. I’ll come after dinner tomorrow to check your progress.”
Reese nodded.
“Are the windows getting done?” he suddenly asked.
“I do them as I do each room.”
“Are you finding mice or other vermin?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Very well. Keep the key with you and go directly there in the morning.”
Considering how stingy Mr. Jenness had been in the past, Reese took this as a compliment. She half-expected him to demand that she check in each morning. This was to her advantage. If she was up and around before the bank opened, she could get right to work.
“Who’s moving into the Kingsley house?” Cathy asked of Maddie, who’d stopped in after she finished her errands in town.
“I don’t know. I just learned that Reese is cleaning there.”
“Do you think Reese knows the details?”
Maddie looked as doubtful as she felt. She wasn’t privy to all the dealings in Reese’s life, but she somehow doubted that Mr. Jenness had confided anything.
“Probably not,” Cathy complained, looking put out. Her voice was that of a spoiled child, and Maddie smiled.
Cathy saw the look. “What?” she asked.
“You have the greatest source of information about 30 feet away, but you ask me, and I live outside of town.”
Cathy’s look was comical.
“I assumed you’d been to the store,” her aunt said.
“I came straight here today.”
The older woman was instantly on her feet.
“Come on, Maddie. We need to pay a visit to your uncle.”
“Reese?” Doc MacKay called as he stepped inside the front door of the Kingsley house. “Are you here?”
“Hey, Doc,” Reese called, poking her head around the door frame of a small room at the back of the house before dropping her cloth into a bucket and going into the wide downstairs hallway to meet him.
“How are you doing?” Doc MacKay questioned her, studying her face carefully.
“I’m doing well.” Reese smiled. “It’s a wonderful house.”
The doctor nodded in agreement, his head going back. He’d not been in here in years, but he remembered the layout well.
“Things look great,” he complimented Reese.
“Thank you. Do you think it’s to be sold?” she asked him.
“You don’t know?”
Reese’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Mr. Jenness doesn’t exactly confide in me.”
Doc smiled back at her.
“So who lived here?” Reese asked.
“George and Nettie Kingsley. George came to open a bank, and they ended up liking the area so much they built this house and stayed.”
“Did they move away or die?”
“Both are dead. Nettie probably more than ten years ago by now, and George about five years before her.”
“The family might be ready to sell,” Reese suggested.
“I don’t know,” the doctor said thoughtfully, but in his heart he was doubtful. The Kingsley family was a large one. He could see someone from that family coming here to live someday.
“Well, I’d better get back to work,” Reese finally observed.
“Okay,” Doc agreed with a gentle touch to her arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sunday,” Reese said with a smile. “I can hardly wait.”
“What type of voice can God hear in prayer?” Douglas asked the group gathered on Sunday morning. “Does He simply wait in heaven to hear the prayers of any man? And before we look at the answer to that, let me remind you what prayer is. It’s agreeing with God. For those of you who would have said it’s talking to God, that’s not enough of the picture.
“Look at our verse in Proverbs 28. I’ll read it to you. ‘He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be an abomination.’” Douglas read this from h
is Bible and then looked at the folks gathered before him. “That’s pretty serious, isn’t it? But we need to hear those serious words to remind us how dire it is when we have unrepentant hearts toward God.
“You might be tempted to say you’ve heard enough on repentance, that I preach about it too much, but think about your life this week. How did you do with keeping God in the center of your life? Or did you push Him out of the center for sinful, selfish pursuits?”
Douglas smiled at the people before him, the folks he loved so well. He wanted nothing more than to see them be strong in Christ, repentant and changing. He kept his closing remarks brief.
“Let me just read the verse for you one more time. God says it so much better than I do. ‘He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be an abomination.’
“Let’s work on memorizing that this week, shall we? Let’s remember how delighted God is with ears, and ultimately hearts, that are attuned to hearing the law.”
The cleaning was done. Reese had not needed help, but in the last day and half, her muscles had begun to ache. She felt she knew every inch of the Kingsley home and couldn’t think of a room, closet, or hallway that she didn’t like. It was the most wonderful house she’d ever seen. A small part of her hoped that a family would be coming, one that would be looking for help in a few years’ time, and she could come back each week and work here.
Reese shook her fanciful head a little and stood closer to the kettle she was trying to boil in the preparation room off the buttery. She had lit a small fire so she could wash herself before going home. For some reason, what she was working on today had been especially dirty, and after dinner she’d brought her clean dress with plans to wash and change.
A lone candle burned on the mantel above. Reese didn’t need a lot of light to get the job done, and when she had warm water, she took delight in scrubbing herself. Her hair needed washing too—she would see to it tomorrow—but for now, a bath over the basin would have to do.
She didn’t dawdle. She’d already missed tea with Mrs. Greenlowe. In her efficient way, she was soon climbing into her clean dress. She was starting to pin her dress when the door suddenly opened. Reese’s heart lurched, but she kept her head, reaching for the fireplace shovel with its long handle.
“You can’t come in here,” she said to the man who had started to come through the door. “This is a private home. If you’re looking for lodgings, you’ll have to try the tavern farther down on the green.”
For a moment the man didn’t react. Reese squared her shoulders since her dress was not fully pinned at the back and made ready to raise the shovel, but the man simply thanked her, and backed out the door.
Reese wasted not a second after the door closed. She blew out the candle, rushing to the window to see if he had lingered, pinning the dress as she went. Trembling that she might actually be forced to use her makeshift weapon, Reese stepped outside a moment but found all quiet in the moonlight.
Reese relaxed. He’d moved on his way. She went calmly back inside and finished cleaning up behind herself, gathered her things, and exited through the very door the man had tried to use. Starting the walk home, Reese smiled at the job she’d done, thankful and a little sad that it was over.
Not until she was well past the edge of the house and down the green did the man emerge, another man with him. They had been standing in one of the sheds by the barn. They stood together, not speaking, and watched her walk out of sight. Only then did they head back to the house and slip quietly inside.
Six
Reese woke up sore but with a fine sense of contentment filling her. Last night Mrs. Greenlowe had been pacing on the porch by the time she arrived, but Reese had warned her that she planned to work until the job was done. Reese smiled when she thought of Mr. Jenness checking on her in the morning—he had formed the recent habit of coming by before the bank opened— and finding the house locked and her not in attendance.
Reese was just about to crawl from bed when the door opened slowly. Mrs. Greenlowe’s face peeked in, and she met Reese’s eyes.
“Are you still alive?” that lady asked.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly 7:00!” Mrs. Greenlowe announced this fact as if a crime had been committed.
“You’re not going to let me be lazy, are you?”
“You’ve never been lazy a day in your life! I’ve got a great big breakfast ready to go on the table, and you need to come and eat.”
“I’m coming,” Reese responded obediently and told God, much as she did every day, that He’d certainly been looking out for her the day He sent Mrs. Greenlowe into her life.
“With the house done, where will he send you?” the landlady asked as soon as Reese prayed.
“I’ll find out, I guess.”
Eggs, ham, corn muffins, and skillet potatoes were pushed her way. Her coffee cup was refilled before it was half empty, but Reese did not hurry. She had until the bank opened today and wasn’t going to rush; it would be the first time since Sunday she didn’t feel the pressure of hurrying to work.
“Did you hear about the kitchen fire at Berglunds’?” Mrs. Greenlowe asked.
“I heard the commotion in the middle of the day yesterday but didn’t know whose house it was.”
“Well, that’s Lillie Jenness’ aunt, you know–her great aunt. Don’t be too surprised if you find yourself over there helping out and getting covered with soot.”
“You might be right. Was anyone hurt?”
“Not that I know of,” Mrs. Greenlowe said, no compassion or concern in her voice. “Where Lillie got her clean streak, I don’t know. Opal Berglund couldn’t be a worse housekeeper. I think she burns her kitchen down at least three times a year. If she would keep it neater, she wouldn’t be setting towels and whatnot on fire.”
It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but Reese felt herself laughing. Mrs. Greenlowe had that effect on her. In fact, she was still chuckling a little when she started for the bank building.
Conner Kingsley woke slowly, not disoriented about where he was but still surprised that he was actually here. It had been a long time. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the familiar sights even as he felt his mind rushing backward in time.
Pushing the covers off, Conner sat up on the edge of the bed. He didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with those thoughts right now. He was weary from the trip that ended up being by coach and not train, and he had other things to think about. He was certain that Troy was up, so he dressed and went in search of him. Taking the back stairway that led directly to the kitchen, Conner found him there.
“Do I smell coffee?” he asked, his voice its usual whisper.
“You certainly do, and if I can find a bowl to mix them, I’ll start the eggs.”
“Where did you find eggs?”
“Unlike some people who slept until after 7:00, I’ve been all over town already this morning.”
“Good for you,” Conner said dryly. “Did you hit several chicken coops or just one?”
“No, I came across a woman who was headed toward her chicken pen with a basket over one arm. I offered her honest coin for a dozen, and she was delighted.”
Conner smiled at Troy’s smug look and peeked into the pan.
“This won’t work without butter.”
Troy handed him a small crock.
“I’m not even going to ask,” Conner said, staring down at the butter and knowing he would have gone hungry this morning if it hadn’t been for Troy.
“You didn’t shave,” Troy suddenly noticed.
“I’m not going to the bank today,” Conner explained. “I realized last night before I fell asleep that it might be best to let you go on your own.”
“Why is that?”
“I just think I should lie low for a time. The Kingsley name always has an effect on people, and even though Dalton said I was coming, you can explain to Mr. Jenness that I’m seeing to other things right now.”
Troy’s look was skeptical. “It’s not as though you can walk around town and not be noticed, Conner.”
“True.” Conner was too large a man not to agree. “I might ask you to deliver a letter later today and have someone come to me.”
“I can do that.”
The men went to work in earnest on the breakfast, and in a short time they’d eaten their fill. Troy had been truly resourceful in the time he’d spent.
“The house is impressively clean,” Conner noted before Troy could exit for the bank.
“Do you suppose that was her last night?”
“Our indentured servant? Probably.”
For a moment, the two men looked at each other in silence.
“I’ll see to it, Conner,” Troy assured him before exiting by way of the front door. Conner quietly thanked him, praying that today would be a success in more than one way.
“I went to the house!” Mr. Jenness exclaimed, wasting no time before attacking. “Where were you?”
“The house is clean,” Reese stated. “I simply waited for the bank to open.”
“But you must have known that I wanted to check it.”
Reese said she was sorry, but in truth he had been checking in every day. He had never criticized her work the way she had expected, so she assumed it had been to his standard. And only just in time. He had said it needed to be done by today.
“Go to the Berglund home,” Mr. Jenness ordered. “There’s been a fire, and they can use your help.”
Reese nodded in agreement and went on her way, knowing that Mrs. Greenlowe would gloat over being right but not over Reese having to work there. She didn’t remember until she was far down the green that she still had the Kingsley house key in her pocket. She didn’t go back right then but planned to return some time later.
“Mr. Jenness?” Troy asked of the man behind the counter.
