Once again Molly’s laughter rang out. “And you think she doesn’t know something from that?”
Heat crept up from Tom’s neck. “Maybe, but I don’t want to lose her as a friend.”
Her demeanor sobered as she leaned toward him. “Tom, if you really care about her, the friendship will only be better. Stefan and I are not only husband and wife, but we’re also friends. Marriage is friendship as well. You’ll see what I mean as your relationship with Faith grows.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Molly slapped him on the arm and stood. “I am most definitely right. Now, let’s get back inside and see if we can find any leftover pie. Mama’s are the best.”
She was right about the pie, so maybe she was about Faith as well. The next few weeks were going to be the best and worst of his life. The best because of his love for Faith and worst because he’d have to find a way to let her know about it. And then he’d need to pray she returned his love and didn’t end their friendship.
CHAPTER 19
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING Tom read the news coming over the wire and gasped. Cleveland had done it! He had beat out the incumbent Benjamin Harrison and accomplished something no other president had done in the history of the United States. Cleveland had served as president as a result of the 1884 election then lost to Harrison in 1888 by the electoral vote. Now Cleveland had won a second term, this time collecting both the popular vote and the electoral vote.
Gretchen stood behind Tom reading the same news. “Wow! Can you believe that? It’s history in the making.”
“It sure is, and I can’t help but wonder if the twenty-two electoral votes the Populist Party garnered might have had something to do with it.” Tom dropped the news tape and returned to his desk. He had a story to write.
He placed a pad and pen on the desk. “I guess we’ll never know how those votes might have gone without the third party.”
Gretchen pulled a sheet of paper from her typewriter. “You men and your political ideas. Just wait until we women have the right to vote. You’ll see a big difference then.”
“That day will be a long time coming, you can count on it.” Tom leaned toward Gretchen’s desk. “What story have you done? More about the great festival we had?”
“No, it’s nothing social. Have you ever heard of Isadore Miner Calloway?”
Tom shook his head. “Can’t say that I have. Is she another one of your women’s suffrage advocates?”
“Perhaps then you’ve heard of Pauline Periwinkle.”
Tom slapped his knee and laughed. At Gretchen’s frown Tom stopped snickering and said, “She’s that woman who writes a column for the Dallas News. She’s always up to something promoting suffrage and women’s clubs and protesting injustices to women. Pretty radical, if you ask me.”
“Humph, she’s one of the smartest women I know, and her columns tell the truth. She’s trying to organize an association for women in the press, and when she does, I plan to join.”
The last thing Tom needed was to get into a discussion of women’s rights. Besides, despite the silly name, Pauline Periwinkle was a good writer. “Good for you. I do believe more women will be hired by our newspapers to report on a lot of things and not just society news.”
Gretchen beamed at him. “Thank you, Tom. I’m glad you’re not entirely against women.”
Tom hid a grin and turned to his own work. Gretchen all but marched into Mr. Blake’s office. Tom sincerely hoped Mr. Blake would print her story. Gretchen had proved to be a good reporter.
After completing the news article on Cleveland, Tom started on his Hogg story. After a hard-fought campaign through Texas, Hogg won a decisive victory over his opponents, George Clark and Thomas Nugent. With all the talk about the railroads dividing the parties, the farm and ranch vote brought in the decisive victory. In the three-way contest, the final results gave Hogg 43 percent of the votes, with Clark receiving 30 percent and Nugent coming in third.
He added more about the campaign before ending it and pulling the paper from his machine. He sat back, satisfaction at a job well done filling him.
Gretchen stopped at his side. “I’m glad the election is over.” She pulled her chair over from her desk. “Look, my father is editor of a newspaper much larger than this. I’m going to write to him about Joe Fitzgerald. Maybe he can use his influence to nose around and get some information for us. He not only has newspaper connections, but he’s made many friends in the business world. This is just the type of thing he loves to do. “
“That sounds like a really good idea. All we know is he’s from somewhere north and his name, if that’s his real name. I have a feeling he’s not going to be around here much longer. He should have plenty now to buy a ticket to wherever his next stop might be.”
“I agree, so as soon as I finish my latest assignment, I’ll send a wire to Father.” She scooted her chair back to her desk and went to work on her next story.
Tom turned in his articles and accepted Mr. Blake’s praise for a job well done. Since the time approached noon, he decided to head home for some of Ma’s leftovers from last night’s meal. A ham sandwich with Ma’s homemade pickles would be just right.
As he walked home, he noticed a nip in the air. What little winter this part of Texas got would be coming in soon. What they needed was a good, strong, cold wind to blow in from the north. His mother may not care for it, but Tom loved the colder weather of the winter months.
At the house he found his mother and Clara in the dining room eating and talking. His mother jumped up when he entered. “Oh, Tom, I didn’t expect you home for lunch. Can I fix you something?”
“No, you and Clara go on with your business. I’m hankering for a ham sandwich, but I’ll fix it.” He continued on into the kitchen. There he cut slices of his mother’s fresh-baked bread and stacked some ham on top. After filling his plate and pouring a glass of milk, he sauntered back to the dining room to join Ma and Clara.
“What has you two so engrossed this time of day, as if I didn’t know?” He grinned and bit into his sandwich.
Clara raised her eyebrows and winked at Ma. “Don’t forget you have to wear one of the new dress sack suits Teddy has ordered from New York. All the men in the wedding will be wearing them.”
“Well, I can wear anything for a few hours to please my sister.”
Clara laughed out loud. “Now that’s a good one. I remember how you fussed about having to wear a suit to Molly’s wedding four years ago.”
Heat flooded Tom’s face. “I suppose I did make a ruckus then, but I’m older now and know how to be proper.”
That brought on more laughter from both his mother and sister. He pushed his chair back from the table. “I say, if you’re going to laugh at me, I shall retire to my room.” After picking up his plate and glass, he headed upstairs for solitude. Their laughter and giggles followed him until he closed his door and sat at his desk. Women and their ideas about fashion and proper attire.
A huge bite of ham filled his mouth, but new thoughts of the wedding filled his head. Faith was to be his partner in the wedding party. If he married her, would she make as big a fuss about the clothes? Probably not. She was much too practical. At that thought he almost choked on his bite of sandwich. Why was he thinking that far ahead? He had to establish a relationship with her first, and that seemed to grow harder every day.
Joe stepped back to eye the counter cabinet he’d just installed for Josie Rivers at the library. It wasn’t as large as he would have liked it to be, but he had worked with the materials given him. Mrs. Rivers now had a place to check out books and take them back in. Before she’d been using a small table set up by the door with file boxes to store the library cards she’d made for each book.
“It really looks nice, Joe, and has so much more room than the table.” Mrs. Rivers came up beside Joe and ran her hands over the smooth top. “I’m going to set things up right now.” She grinned and opened the first drawer.
Whi
le she transferred cards and papers from the boxes to the cabinet drawers, Joe strolled through the library once more. She had a good selection of books, but it wouldn’t be long before those shelves would be filled with the books he and Mrs. Rivers had discussed last week.
A few patrons came in, so Joe bid Josie good-bye and strolled back to town. The library had been one job he’d done for free, but because he wanted to keep his reputation as a homeless man saving up money for a ticket to the town, he accepted small fees for other jobs.
At the town hall he met Mayor Gladstone coming out of the building. “Good afternoon, Mayor.”
“Good afternoon to you too. I hear you like our town and are extending your stay.”
“You heard right. Stoney Creek is a right nice place to spend time. The people here are mighty friendly. You can be proud of them and the way your town is growing.”
“Ah, yes, we are growing fast, and therein lies a problem.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “And what would that problem be?” He had guessed some things the town might need, but to hear it from the mayor would give Joe more insight into what he could do for Stoney Creek.
The mayor hooked his thumbs in his vest pockets and rocked back and forth. “That railroad business is one thing. They’re supposed to start work on it soon so we’ll have more direct routes west and north. Another thing is electricity. I’m hoping we can get the electric lines from Dallas to come down this way. I haven’t heard from the commission yet as to when we can expect such service.”
“Both of those would be good.” But they were not the kind of things Joe could help accomplish. “Any special needs you see?”
The mayor stroked his chin. “Well now, there are always things we need. I don’t want to raise taxes, but we may have to. Main Street and the streets one block on either side of it are in need of repair, and we need better, safer sidewalks because they’re not in as good a condition as they need to be. The center of town may be on a bit of a hill, but we still had some flooding years ago.”
“How often does Stoney Creek flood?” No one had mentioned that possibility to him.
“Oh, maybe once a year if we have a really heavy storm come through or a hurricane comes up from the coast. It has to be a real corker of a rainstorm to flood the middle of town, but some of the homes get water in them from time to time. We tried to build a dam using sandbags and other stuff, but we didn’t have enough to really do any good.”
Not much Joe could do about a dam, but people most likely would need some help after their homes flooded or a hurricane caused any damage. Tornadoes had been known to blow through this part of the state as well. He’d have to think more on that one.
The mayor spoke again. “One thing I’m proud of is being able to get a generator in time for this year’s tree lighting ceremony at Thanksgiving. My wife showed me some electric light bulbs that would be safer and prettier on the tree than candles. I ordered some of them as well. It’s going to be the best tree we’ve ever had in town.” The mayor stopped and grinned at Joe. “You planning to stick around for that festivity?”
“Think I just might do that, Mayor Gladstone. Sounds like it’d be a pretty sight to see, and I like Christmas trees.”
“I do believe we’ll have the best, with Mrs. Gladstone’s help of course.” He touched the brim of his hat. “I must be off about other business in town. You take care, Joe.” Mayor Gladstone strode down the street toward the county courthouse and his office.
Joe scratched his head. Stoney Creek sounded like it was in good hands. The mayor was maybe a little pompous, but the man did have a right to be proud of his town. Joe would have to do some praying and thinking on what he could do to make the town even better and keep it on the road to progress.
CHAPTER 20
FAITH MADE HER way into Hempstead’s Mercantile with a list in hand. New orders came in every day, and Papa had said if they kept up this pace along with the extra holiday baking and the Whiteman-Gladstone wedding, they’d soon have enough for a new commercial-style stove in the bakery.
The town still buzzed from the election results posted at the newspaper office this morning. She supposed it was important, but politics didn’t play much into her life at this time. Maybe if she could vote it would make a difference. No matter about that now, the supply list took precedence over anything else.
Mrs. Weatherby met Faith coming from Hempstead’s. “Oh, Faith, I’m so glad to see you. The ladies of our church have decided to give a wedding party for Clara. You know, like the one Gretchen told us she’d read about in Dallas and Houston.”
Faith vaguely remembered the conversation, but she’d been busy with taking care of customers and hadn’t heard the full discussion. “I seem to recall that.”
“Well, we’re having it at the church hall two weeks from Saturday. The five ladies who are hostesses are providing the food, but we’d like to know if your mother could make those delicious little pecan pies she makes for special occasions.”
“She and Aunt Ruby are at the bakery now, so why not go on over and speak with her? We’ve had a good crop of pecans this year, so she will most likely agree to make the tassies.”
“Oh, is that what they’re called? Funny little name.” She grinned and patted Faith’s hand. “I’ll hurry on over there now and visit with your mother.” With a wave of her hand she hurried down the steps and practically ran over to the bakery.
Faith shook her head. Those pecan tassies would be perfect for the occasion, and everyone in town claimed no one made flakier pie crusts than Irene Delmont. Faith was getting better, but she still had a ways to go to match Mama’s baking.
The bell over the door jangled when she entered the store. Mr. Hempstead stood at the counter speaking with Mr. Kirk. From the look on the farmer’s face, something good had happened.
James Hempstead, the owner’s son, hailed her. “Good afternoon, Faith. How can I help you?”
“I have a list of things Mama needs for the bakery.” She handed him the list and glanced over to where the two men still talked. The grin on Mr. Kirk’s face had changed to one of surprise and amazement.
“I don’t want to be nosy, but what has Mr. Kirk smiling so?”
“You’re not being nosy, and I suppose it’ll be all over town soon as he leaves here anyway. Seems someone paid his bill in full and set aside another amount of credit for him to buy whatever he needs for his family.”
“Oh my, that is wonderful. I heard what a difficult time his wife had with their last baby not long ago. He’s had a hard time with his crops too.”
“Yes, and Pa was helping him out as much as possible by not collecting what Mr. Kirk owed, but now he’s being taken care of. And before you ask that question I see coming in your eyes, we don’t have any idea who paid for everything.”
Faith glanced back to Mr. Kirk again as he left the store with an armload of food and other items. “I’m really happy for them. Owing money can really make a person depressed.”
With a nod to the older Mr. Hempstead, she picked up a tin of baking powder. While she shopped, her thoughts meandered back to the Kirk family. Several times her mother had placed extra bread and other items in a basket to take to the Kirk farm. Mama, knowing the family wouldn’t take straight-out charity, made the excuse that day-old bread and baked goods didn’t sell well, so she was giving them away to whoever wanted them. Faith imagined Mrs. Kirk knew the truth but accepted the offering anyway.
While Mr. Hempstead totaled up the amount of her purchase, Faith brought up Mr. Kirk’s situation. “James told me about Mr. Kirk. That’s amazing. I can’t think of anyone here in town who would do something like that.”
“It’s a puzzlement for sure, but all I can do is what I was told. Mr. Swenson made the arrangements, and I’ll carry them out.”
The bell jangled again, and Mrs. Rivers from the library dashed in. “Oh, Mr. Hempstead, the man at the station sent a note that a crate had arrived for me and it was here at the store. I
haven’t ordered anything.”
“It sure is, Mrs. Rivers, and it’s from a store in Dallas. James, go get it and bring it out here for Mrs. Rivers.”
Faith stood by with a little more than curiosity flowing through her. What kind of goods would Mrs. Rivers be getting from Dallas? Well, she’d know soon enough as James hauled the crate in from the back storeroom.
Margaret Hempstead, James’s wife, descended the stairs from their home above the store. “What’s all the commotion down here?” She eyed the large crate. “Oh, my, what is that?”
Mrs. Rivers ran her hands over the rough surface. “That’s what I’d like to know.” She stepped back with hands on her hips. “James, find something and get this here crate open so we can see what’s inside.”
By now a few other customers had entered the store. Faith hid a grin. Wouldn’t take long for this news to be all over town. Tom should be here to take notes. She detected a story in the making.
James pried off the lid and brushed away some of the straw covering the contents. Mrs. Rivers’s sharp intake of breath broke through the murmurs of those gathered.
She stepped back with one hand on her cheek and the other over her heart. “Books! Where did they come from? I didn’t order them.”
James pulled out a sheet of paper. “This looks like an invoice and it says the bill is paid in full.”
She fanned her face. “Oh my, oh my . . . I can’t believe this.” Then she peered at the heavy crate. “How am I ever going to get this back to the library?”
“James and one or two of these other men will load it onto our wagon and bring it down. They’ll unload it inside for you.” At his father’s nod James and two men dragged the crate back to the storeroom.
Red flushed Mrs. Rivers’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to think. Joe finished up my new checkout counter today, and I was just wishing for some more books. Now here they are, just like that.” She swiped her hands on her skirt.
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