But with Parson Clay at the back greeting each person as they left, the going was slow. And amazingly, several families greeted her warmly and told her how happy they were to see her. Each time she introduced Tess, the girl seemed to relax a little bit more. And Liora was surprised to note that the cramping in her stomach had mellowed to mere queasiness. Maybe Joe had been right. Other than Mrs. King and Mrs. Hines, everyone had been most pleasant.
Liora had searched the room for any of the other women who had been in Pricilla’s little mob the day Joe had quit his job, but she didn’t see any of them. Though she didn’t know the women by name, she felt sure she would have recognized them. Perhaps of those women, only Ethel King and Pricilla Hines attended services.
She and Tess had almost reached the parson now. By his side was a teen boy that caught Liora’s eye. Something tugged for her attention. She frowned. Something about the boy seemed…what? She couldn’t quite place it. She smiled at him, and he gave her a shy nod before turning his focus to the ground near his feet. Who was he and where had he come from?
Parson Clay cleared his throat and Liora gave herself a little shake. It was her turn to speak to him. She quickly stepped forward.
He smiled at her and his handshake was warm and firm. “It does my heart good to see you this side of the doors today, Liora. I’ve been praying for quite some time that you’d find the courage for just such a step.”
Liora swallowed. “You have?”
He nodded.
She fiddled with her cuffs. “Well, I’m relieved to hear it, if I’m honest. I was concerned what you might think.”
He leaned forward and took her shoulders. Sincerity shone from his expression when he said, “What I think is that God’s Word says we are all sinners, and that His blood can cover us no matter how far gone we were. It also tells us that God can take our shortcomings and turn them around for His glory.”
Liora tilted him a look. “Have you been talking to Joe?”
Parson Clay chuckled. “I have not. But rest assured that the good Lord can speak to us in any number of ways and through any number of people. He is not required to use a parson who has fallen just as short of His glory as any of the rest of humanity. So if Joe has been telling you something along the lines of what I just said, I would say he’s probably hit the truth right on the head.” He cocked a brow at her to hammer home his point before his gaze flicked to Tess. “And who do we have here?”
“Oh, forgive me. Parson, this is Teresa Trenton. Tess to her friends, as I’m sure you’ll be. Tess, this is Parson Preston Clay.”
Tess gave a little dip of her knees, but didn’t lift her gaze any higher than the parson’s shirt sleeve.
Preston leaned forward, took her hand, and pumped warmly.
Liora couldn’t help but smile when Tess lifted wide eyes to scrutinize the man’s face.
He gave her a nod. “It is a great pleasure to have you here with us today, Miss Trenton. I hope you’ll join us again next week.”
“Yes, suh.”
“And may I introduce my new charge Rory to you both? Rory will be staying with me and Kin for a time.”
Liora smiled and stretched out one hand to the boy. He had the most beautiful jade-colored eyes she’d ever seen.
He shook her hand but did not speak or look her in the eye.
“Good day to you.” Liora bade him farewell, then led the way through the coat room and down the church steps. She moved to one side of the stairs to wait for Joe.
Pricilla Hines and Ethel King stood talking just ahead. Pricilla’s voice was sharp and loud enough to carry to anyone on the church lawn. “As if one soiled dove isn’t bad enough, now she’s dragging her like into—”
Ethel noticed Liora and Tess descending the step. Her eyes widened and she shot out a hand to stop Pricilla mid-sentence. Ethel exhibited enough compassion to look embarrassed at her friend’s blatant rudeness.
Pricilla glanced their way and scanned them up and down. Her lips curled like they might have been muddy cats who had wandered onto the lawn.
After giving them only the briefest moment of her time, she returned her focus to Ethel. “Wasn’t that such a divine message today?”
Ethel nodded, her feet shuffling uneasily. “Indeed, it was.”
Liora met Tess’s gaze. It was obvious from the girl’s expression that she was well aware of just what the two women had been discussing before they’d come out. Liora rested one hand on her shoulder, hoping to offer encouragement and solace.
Pricilla gave Ethel a very unsubtle nod that said “follow me” and both women hustled away without even so much as a greeting. They scurried around to the side of the church. Pricilla’s voice sliced sharply. “The last thing poor little David and the boys like him need is to face the temptation of fallen women. In church! On a Sunday!”
Ethel King’s voice was a little quieter when she said, “You really should guard your tongue a bit, Pricilla.”
“What?” Pricilla was obviously taken aback by the rebuff. “You think my boy should have to look at those, those, those women every Sunday?”
Ethel sighed. “I meant your words about Liora and her friend.”
“Well… They’re only whores. It’s not like they have feelings.” Pricilla tittered a laugh.
There was a moment of pause and then Ethel spoke again. “Isn’t that a fine kettle of fish about Miss Brindle marrying the sheriff? She is going to leave us without a teacher right in the middle of the school year!”
Tess and Liora had walked all the way to the edge of the road, but the women’s voices still carried as clearly as if they’d been standing close by. It was nigh impossible not to overhear the conversation.
The distinctive sound of Pricilla’s fan snapping open preceded her reply. “Is Charlotte in the family way, do you think?”
Liora felt her fists clench as Ethel gasped. “Well I wouldn’t know, but they’ve never been suspected of impropriety.”
“It’s just strange. Mighty strange. And did Dixie speak to you a moment ago? She’s wanting all of us to have a congratulatory gathering ahead of the wedding! Should we even be congratulating them if there is a child on the way?”
Liora swallowed and glanced around for Dixie. She felt badly for wanting to dodge an invitation to bring refreshments, but the last time she’d brought a dish to a church gathering, Mrs. Hines had pushed it to the very back of the table and tossed a towel over it. Liora had tried to tell herself she didn’t care and that it had meant more leftovers for her, but in truth she’d been hurt by the action. Since then she had chosen not to participate in community gatherings. But this one was for Charlotte and Reagan, both of whom had been nothing but kind to her through the years. She should seek Dixie out and offer to bring something. Instead, she nudged Tess toward the large oak at the far end of the church lawn. They could wait for Joe there and hopefully remain out of Dixie’s line of sight.
Beside Liora, Tess’s feet shuffled.
Liora looked at her.
“Why those women talkin’ such?”
Liora shook her head, looped her arm around Tess’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry about them. They are a couple of old gossips. Reagan and Charlotte are both upstanding God-fearing folk.”
Tess gave her a pointed look that indicated she knew she’d avoided the fact that the women had been disparaging them as well.
Liora sighed. “We can’t change the past, Tess. Time only marches one way. You can’t walk forward with your focus on the past or eventually you will bring about your own demise. Yet that’s all some people seem capable of doing.”
She swallowed her discomfort as her conscience pointed several fingers in her direction. Beauty from ashes… Could she bring herself to a place of accepting the beauty God offered?
After a beat of silence, Tess asked, “What that means? God-fearing?”
“To fear God means that you take Him at His Word and know that if you don’t live according to His principles there will be co
nsequences. We can talk more about that later. Here’s Joe to pick us up.”
There was a certain gleam in Joe’s eyes even though he smiled cordially as he helped first Tess and then Liora up to the wagon’s seat. “Wasn’t that a happy turn of events? I couldn’t be more pleased for Reagan and Charlotte.” He held onto her hand a little longer than necessary, locking his gaze with hers.
Liora’s breath caught. And then her heart set to hammering. Because a realization had just coursed through her. For the first time ever, it was not fear that had made her breath catch at a man’s touch, but anticipation.
She snatched her hand back and settled her skirts. “Indeed.”
She needed anywhere to look but at the alluring and somehow knowing smile of Joseph Rodante. Her gaze fastened on her clasped hands. She heard him give a little chuckle and then the man whistled his way around the end of the wagon toward his seat. Joe whistling? She’d never heard the man whistle a day in her life.
Beside her, Tess squirmed again. And it was in that moment that Liora noticed how thin and threadbare the girl’s dress was. The autumn wind had picked up and it was icy and cutting. She swept up the bench blanket and swung it around the girl’s shoulders.
She would need to order her a couple of new ensembles, but it would have to wait until her next pay day. Her stomach knotted. Providing clothing for the girls she rescued hadn’t been an expense she’d considered. Perhaps she shouldn’t have turned down the extra work at Dixie’s after all.
That thought sent her mind back to the two women they’d just left. Why was it that she couldn’t seem to win them over? No matter how she tried to be friendly and pay back right for wrong, she couldn’t seem to make a friend of either Mrs. Hines or Mrs. King.
Joe glanced over at her. “Something weighing on your mind?”
“It’s noth—”
“Those two ladies was downright awful to Miss Fontaine and me, and that be stated kind.” Tess’s chin lifted a fraction with each word of her sentence.
A muscle bulged in Joe’s jaw. He flicked the reins with a sharp snap against the horse’s rump. “I see,” was all he said, but Liora got the feeling there was a whole lot more going through the man’s mind.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aurora stood outside the chicken coop with the bucket of cracked corn clutched against her pounding heart and the bucket of leftover vegetable scraps by her side. The parson had told her in no uncertain terms at breakfast that it was time she started pulling her weight with helping out around the place. And he was likely right. It had been a full week, and the ache inside from missing Ma had been so strong, she’d hardly been able to get out of bed some days. She scratched at an itch beneath the waist of her britches.
After Ma’s service, she had been able to go back to retrieve her bundle of clothes. But she’d been too scared to change out of the set she’d had on ever since because the parson and Kin both shared the parsonage’s only bedroom. They each had a bed against opposite walls and they’d put down a pallet for her between them. At first, she’d been terrified by that prospect, but that first night she’d been so tired that she’d fallen onto her pallet the moment they’d laid it down and been sound asleep before either of them came in to bed. Since then, she’d made sure she was tucked safely under her covers before either of them retired for the night. That way she could pretend to be asleep and keep her eyes closed so she hadn’t seen anything she oughtn’t have. While the bedroom did have a door, she’d never felt comfortable enough to change. Since there were only men in the house—or so they thought—they were in the habit of simply barging through doors without knocking. She’d thought about trying to change a few times midday, but the parson had rarely left the house with her in it. She hoped she might get the chance today because he’d said he had some visiting to do, but he hadn’t left yet. Just the thought of a bath and clean clothes had her anticipating his departure like a kid anticipating Christmas.
But first she was expected to enter this coop—and chickens, quite frankly, terrified her. Scaly heads. Beady eyes that always seemed to be watching. And leathery feet with long claws. What was there not to be terrified of?
But the parson had been very specific. She had to go into the pen and sprinkle the corn and scraps in the trough on the other side.
Kin tromped out of the barn, pushing a wheelbarrow. He paused, frowned from her to the chickens and back again. “You may as well get it done, kid. I’ve never known him to be happy if his instructions aren’t followed to a T.”
Aurora swallowed. Easy for him to say. He didn’t have to wade in amidst filthy fowl.
Kin started around the barn with his load, but then stopped and grinned. “You afraid of them, kid?”
Aurora thinned her lips. She’d been a bit worried how he might treat her when she’d first arrived, but he mostly ignored her. And that had been just fine with her. At least he wasn’t being unkind. She hoped he wasn’t about to start now. She chose not to answer his question, working instead on gathering her courage for the task at hand. All she had to do was open the gate, hurry across, dump the corn, and then—
“Here. Give me that.” Kin was beside her reaching for the bucket.
She gasped and sprung away from him. Corn arced in a golden rainbow and scattered at their feet.
Kin raised his hands by his shoulders. “Whoa, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you. Was just aiming to help is all.”
Feeling sheepish for startling so easily, Aurora bent and set to gathering as much of the corn as she could back into the bucket. She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t very well admit to being terrified of chickens because the likelihood of a boy having that malady were slim to none.
Kin stalked away, probably figuring she was a lost cause. But only a moment later, he returned with a broom and dustpan. “Watch out.” He brushed her aside and started sweeping up the spill. “The chickens are just going to scratch this out of the trough and through the dirt anyhow. A little extra dust won’t hurt them none.” He dumped the corn back into her bucket and leaned on the broom handle for a moment, studying the chickens along with her. He bumped her with his shoulder. “Tell you a secret?”
Aurora pressed her lips together and nodded. Despite the fact that he was a bit rough around the edges, she liked Kin Davis. At least as one “boy” to another.
And that reminder brought a wave of guilt. The parson’s whole message the day before had been about the importance of truth and honesty. She’d been trying not to think on it, ever since. But the nagging impression that she should confess who she really was hadn’t left her since she’d walked out of the service. She didn’t think the parson would send her back to Hunt. Yet, what would he do with her? That was the question that had kept her silent. She realized Kin was talking and she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.
“Anyhow, all that to say… I’m not much of a chicken lover either. But they make a mighty tasty meal, all fried up and slathered in gravy. So kid, what you’ve got to tell yourself is that all you’re doing is fattening up those fluffy varmints for the pan.” He gave her a wink. “Leastwise that’s what I tell myself. Now go on, get.” And with that, he gave her a brotherly slap on the backside.
Aurora couldn’t stop a squeak of surprise. His slap was so strong that it knocked her forward toward the pen. Eyes wide, Aurora continued to the gate.
Behind her, Kin guffawed. “Did you just squeak, kid? We’re gonna have to toughen you up some, I see.”
Aurora half-cringed, hoping he didn’t plan to begin right this moment.
But Kin only laughed and trundled the wheelbarrow around the side of the barn.
Aurora sighed. She’d hoped he would do the chore for her. But it looked like there was no escape. “All right you little tasty meals. I’m coming in. And you all better stay back or you won’t be getting any of this fine corn today. Or these ever so tasty leftovers.” She curled her lip as she bent to retrieve the bucket of slops.
The chickens only clucked and pe
cked at the dirt. One cocked his head and seemed ready to pounce on her the moment she opened the gate.
Aurora rolled her eyes at herself and took deliberate hold of the latch. “Right. On three.”
She counted down, then dashed across the pen. Chickens squawked and scattered right and left. She dumped out the corn, almost dropping the bucket in her hurry. After pitching the vegetable scraps out on the ground, she nearly trampled a hen trotting toward the corn in her haste to make her exit.
But she’d done it. She grinned and slammed the gate home. The chickens were making quite the racket now as they gobbled and cackled. But she was safely on the outside of the fence. And she didn’t have to face them again for another twenty-four hours!
When she turned for the barn, she gasped. Deputy Rodante was grinning at her as he tied his mount to the hitching rail. She’d met him yesterday when the parson insisted on introducing her to everyone at the church. He opened his mouth, glanced at the chickens, then seemed to give himself a little shake and change his mind about what he’d been about to say. “The parson around?”
Aurora was struck by what a good-looking man he was. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Stubble-shadowed jawline. Of course, the parson with his green eyes and dark skin was some hard to beat in the looks department, but the deputy could give him a run for his money, at any rate. He was handsome in a clean-cut sort of way, and if Ma were still alive and Aurora were able to live as a girl right now, she might even have been tempted to give him more space in her thoughts. But, of course, none of that was an option. At least not while she was pretending to be someone she was not.
Deputy Rodante’s feet shuffled and she suddenly noticed that he was squinting at her in a way that made it clear he was trying to decide if her mind was all there.
Flames licked at her cheeks. Hoping the deputy wouldn’t notice, she spun toward the barn and reminded herself to lower her voice when she said, “He’s in the house.”
Studying for next Sunday’s sermon. Which would likely once more point out the severity of her shortcomings. Behind her, she heard the deputy’s footsteps crunching toward the house. With a sigh she hung the feed bucket back on its hook and retrieved the pitchfork she had been instructed to use to add clean straw to the stalls Kin had finished mucking earlier. Kin had to get out to one of the logging camps to hunt for a new job, so the parson had told her she would need to finish the task.
Beauty from Ashes (Wyldhaven Book 3) Page 16
