“That’s what your mother said.” Honor moved to the stove and stoked the flames to warm the coffee. When she heard his chair move, she looked back at Jeth. “Is it too hot in here for you?” she asked.
“Not at all. I like it warm and cozy like this.”
He fingered his empty cup. She wondered if something was bothering him—like the fact that he’d scolded her when he’d seen her wearing his wife’s dress.
“I really am sorry, ma’am, for mentioning the green dress the way I did. As a Christian, I should have known better. But when I saw you wearing Selma’s clothes, I kind of flew over the chicken coop—so to speak.”
She knew she should accept his apology. Someday, she probably would. Now, all she felt was embarrassment.
A few minutes later, steam sizzled from the pot, and the smell of coffee filled the room. Hurrying to the woodstove, Honor poured hot coffee into their tin cups and handed one to Jeth. Taking hers in both hands, she settled into the chair across from him. A smile wasn’t in her.
Honor reached for the sugar bowl. “So what happened in town today?”
“I visited Miss Lucy Jordan.”
She dropped two lumps into her cup and stirred without looking at him. “Who’s she?”
“A member of our church.”
“How nice for a single man like you.” A fresh blush warmed her cheeks when she realized what she’d said.
He grinned. Had she amused him?
“Miss Jordan lives with her mother.”
A ping startled her. Glancing down, Honor realized she had bumped the metal spoon against her tin cup. She set her spoon on her crumpled napkin and rose from her chair, hands flat on the table.
“I baked a chocolate cake. Would you like a slice?”
“No.” He covered her hand with his. “I want you to sit back down. There’s something else I need to say.”
“Oh,” she said, inching her hand free.
“I told you there are folks in our church who have been wanting to learn how to read. Well, Lucy Jordan is one of them. She knows your name now, Miss McCall, and that you’ll be her teacher. And she’s very excited. When can you start?”
“When would you like me to?”
“As soon as we can arrange it.”
Jeth took a sip of coffee, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Honor stilled a shudder. How many times had she seen Lucas wipe his mouth in just that way?
“I want you to drive into town with me in the morning so you can meet your new student. And don’t worry about your duties here at the boardinghouse. I’ll tell Mama that you’re meeting Miss Jordan tomorrow and will be teaching her once a week.”
“What time do you plan to leave?” she asked.
“Is right after breakfast too soon?”
“After breakfast will be fine.”
When Jeth left to drive Timmy home, Honor cleared the table and washed the dishes, but her thoughts focused on her future tutoring student. Honor tried to imagine what Miss Lucy Jordan might be like, and all sorts of pictures played in her mind.
Jeth had explained the importance of a first meeting. Honor wanted to look her best and would stay up late and alter another of his mother’s dresses.
In the big dining room that evening, the long table was filled with people. The supper guests included Mrs. Clark and her sister, Mrs. Davis, Elmer, a Mr. Lott, Dr. Harris, and, of course, Jeth. The scent of a beef roast and spicy baked potatoes wafted around them.
Honor planned not to look at Jeth. She would simply do her job and go back to the kitchen, she told herself.
The table was covered with bowls and platters of food, but there was space for one more something directly in front of Jeth’s plate. Holding a heavy bowl of green beans in both hands, she intended to place it on the table and walk away. But standing behind Jeth, she realized there wasn’t enough room between him and Dr. Harris to squeeze a bowl through. Somebody needed to move out of her way.
Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat. “Would one of you gentlemen please move so I can put this bowl on the table?”
Both men turned and smiled.
Jeth moved way over—as if he expected her to put a washtub on the table. “Is this far enough?”
Everybody looked at Honor and laughed.
Her cheeks burned. “Yes, that should do it.”
Jeth rose from his chair. “That looks heavy. Let me help you.”
Honor shook her head, glowering at him. “No, thank you, Preacher. I can do this all by myself.”
She stepped forward on shaky legs. The bowl tipped slightly. Beans spilled to the very edge. Jeth reached out and steadied the bowl.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“You’re welcome.”
Knowing that all eyes were on her, Honor was flooded with embarrassment. She set the bowl near Jeth’s plate and stepped back.
“Please, everyone,” she said. “I’m sorry for causing a stir and interrupting your supper. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen.”
Honor hurried to the door before she caused another disaster. She’d almost reached it when she heard a chair move, then footsteps. Jeth was right behind her.
She raced into the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mrs. Peters standing at the stove, stirring a pot of something. Honor headed for the mess room, thinking nobody would bother her there.
“Miss McCall,” Jeth said from behind her. “I’m so sorry. I’ve hurt you again. I was joking. We all joke with one another here at the boardinghouse. But you’re new and didn’t know. Can you ever forgive me?”
Honor turned and glared at him, with tears in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Forget about it. I’m just a maid here anyway.”
“Children!” Mrs. Peters clapped her hands. “What are you two fussing about?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Honor said. “This is all my fault. I’m making a mess of everything.” She glanced toward the hall leading to the stairway. “If you will both excuse me, I need to go to my room now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Jeth followed her to the stairway. Before she reached the first step, he took her arm gently and held it.
“Go on up if you like, Miss McCall. You deserve a recess. And I think you’re doing a fine job here at the boardinghouse. I know you’ll do well as my assistant over at the church, too.”
Honor forced a quick smile. “Thank you, Reverend.” Then she dashed up the stairs, and didn’t look back.
The next morning, Honor sat beside Jeth in the wagon. The last thing she wanted was to ride into town with him, but she was obligated to fulfill her agreement to tutor members of his church. And how else would she get to town on such a chilly day?
The brown plaid dress that she’d altered hugged her slender form, and she wondered if Jeth noticed that she’d taken special care with her hair and clothes to appear neat and well-groomed. Now, if only she could stop shivering.
Snow fell softly around them and the thin material of Honor’s dress did little to protect her from the cold.
Jeth pulled a woolen blanket from a box under the bench of the wagon. “Here. Wrap this around you. And if this isn’t enough, I have another blanket or two I can give you.”
“One will be fine. Thank you very much.”
“I’m buying you a winter coat as soon as we get to town.”
“You will not!” Honor grimaced. “I won’t hear of it. When I can afford a coat, I’ll buy one—and not until then.”
“I think the Lord wants you to have a coat today, Miss McCall, and so do I.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Yes, we certainly will.”
By the time they reached the general store, the snow had stopped. The roofs of the houses were dusted with a layer of white. Icicles hung like silver ornaments from the eaves of the houses and the other buildings along the main street.
The town was bigger than Falling Rock, and there was a quality of warmth and friend
liness shining in the faces of everyone who Honor saw. Could part of the reason be that she hadn’t seen a single saloon?
Lucas had once complained that Hearten was bone-dry. At the time, Honor hadn’t known what that meant. Then Aunt Harriet explained that alcohol wasn’t sold in Hearten. That fact gave Honor a sense of security and reassurance.
She’d considered staying in the wagon while Jeth went into Baker’s Grocery and Mercantile. But thoughts of a warm building and a roof over her head prompted her to follow him inside.
The store was divided into sections by display tables covered with a variety of items. Glass canisters filled with licorice and hard, brightly colored candies were placed beside boxes of bullets and hunting rifles. Shoes and ladies’ hats were near a grocery counter, and shelves of food lined the back wall. A stairway led to the second floor, where Jeth had said the store-owner and his family lived.
Another counter stood in one corner of the big room. A sign above it read United States Post Office in big black letters.
Jeth ambled to a part of the store where coats and capes of various colors and sizes hung on wooden wall-pegs. He picked up a brown coat with a dark brown fur collar. “This looks about your size, Miss McCall. Why don’t you try it on?”
A thrill shot through her. The coat was lovely.
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “I told you. I’m not buying a coat until—”
“Let me pay for it. You can reimburse me out of your salary. Employees do things like that around here all the time.”
She opened her mouth to refuse, then closed it. The coldest winter months were ahead.
“Try it on,” he urged.
She studied him for a moment. “All right.”
Honor slipped her arms into the coat, buttoned it, and felt truly warm for the first time since she’d left the rooming house.
“Thank you, Reverend.” His thoughtfulness overwhelmed her. “I’ve never owned a coat I liked better than this one. But remember, I will pay you back.”
“Of course.”
Honor wasn’t accustomed to receiving gifts and kindnesses from anyone except her aunt, and she wanted to escape before she started to weep. Turning, she headed for the entry door.
The street in front of the general store was wet and filled with slush. She stood on the wide front porch until Jeth came out. Then she helped him load the items he’d bought into the back of the wagon, and together, they covered everything with a piece of canvas.
“I’ll need to wait for the mail,” he said. “Mr. Baker is sorting it now. As soon as it’s ready, we can go.”
“All right.”
Jeth stepped back onto the porch, but Honor lingered by the wagon for a closer look at the town of Hearten. She glanced down the main street. A rider appeared in the distance.
A drop of freezing water, coming from the roof, dampened the top of Honor’s head. Gazing up, she saw that the icicles were melting, and stepped under the covered walkway. Jeth still waited there—in his usual stance, hands behind his back and legs apart.
“Thank you again for the coat, Reverend.”
“You are most welcome.”
Honor turned back toward the road. A sandy-haired boy in a gray jacket rode up on a big, red horse. He looked to be about nine or ten years old.
The boy stuck out his chin, as if he had important things to do. Evidently, the child didn’t see Honor and Jeth standing in front of the store, because he never glanced in their direction.
Honor noticed Jeth studying the boy and especially the animal. When the child went inside, Jeth turned to her. “Ever seen that sorrel horse before?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just wondered.”
Jeth stepped from the porch and walked over to the hitching post where the red horse was tied. He squinted at the animal’s markings and rubbed his hand across the brand, which read Lazy S. Honor wondered what he found so interesting.
She walked to the edge of the porch to view the horse from a different angle. The red gelding did look familiar. Had she seen the horse after all? If so, she couldn’t remember where.
The store-owner came out with a handful of letters and nodded to Honor. “Ma’am.” He gazed out toward Jeth. “Here’s your mail, Reverend.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” Jeth called back. “Would you please just give it to Miss McCall there? She works for my mother at the boardinghouse now.”
“Of course.” He handed the stack of letters to Honor. “Here you go, miss. And good day to ya.”
“Good day to you, too, sir,” Honor said.
Jeth continued to inspect the red horse, while Honor descended the wooden steps and climbed into the wagon. Surreptitiously, she inspected the mail, hoping she wouldn’t find a letter from Lucas. When she didn’t, she let out a deep sigh. He hadn’t found her, not yet.
Honor glanced down at her new coat, brushing away a speck of moisture from the front of it. Thanks to Jeth, she felt warm now. That was something to be glad about.
Jeth still stood beside the red horse.
“Well, are you coming or not?” she asked.
“I have something else to do before we leave,” he said without looking at her. “I hope you don’t mind waiting a few minutes longer. If you get too cold, go back inside the store. I’ll look for you there.”
“No, I don’t mind waiting. I’m warm enough right here.”
“Thanks.” Jeth turned sharply, walked across the muddy street and entered Sheriff Green’s office.
What business did Jeth have with the sheriff? Honor felt her forehead wrinkle. Was he about to turn her in for stealing from the church in Falling Rock? Honor bit her lower lip, holding onto the hope that his business with the sheriff had nothing to do with her.
Chapter Eight
Honor had hoped Jeth would tell her about his business with the sheriff, but when he returned, he simply climbed in the wagon and clicked the reins.
She lifted her chin. “Reverend Peters.” Determination filled her. “I can’t help but wonder why you went over to Sheriff Green’s office. Did it have anything to do with me, or the boy on the red horse?”
“Sorry, Miss McCall, I’m not at liberty to discuss this with anyone right now. But it has nothing to do with you.”
Honor nodded. “I see.”
But she didn’t. What was Jeth hiding?
Without another word, Jeth trotted the horses down a different road than the one that led to the boardinghouse.
“Are we going to Miss Jordan’s now?” she asked.
“Yes. As I mentioned, I want the two of you to become acquainted before you start teaching her how to read.”
Honor paused before speaking. “What is she like?”
Briefly, Jeth looked away from the reins and over at Honor. Then he peered down the road again.
“To some,” he said, “it might seem strange that a well-bred lady like Miss Lucy Jordan never learned to read. But after her well-to-do father died, Miss Lucy spent most of her growing-up years on a remote farm with her invalid mother. By the time she was three, her mother was totally blind. A maid cooked their meals and cared for them. The maid, Maria, didn’t know how to read or write, but she taught Miss Jordan to sew and do other handiwork.
“Miss Lucy was barely eighteen when her late father’s money ran out, and Maria died the same year. She’s been her mother’s only cook and caretaker ever since then, and makes her living as a seamstress.”
She noticed Jeth studying her again. Did he expect her to make a comment? Yes, she had thoughts regarding Miss Lucy Jordan, but she felt she should keep them to herself.
Honor knew about problems in life and appreciated all Jeth had to say about Lucy. She regretted that the woman had difficulties, but an unflattering image of Miss Jordan formed in Honor’s mind long before the wagon stopped in front of a quaint, little house with dormer windows and green shutt
ers.
She pictured Miss Lucy as an old maid of thirty or more with wrinkles and straight, greasy hair. As she and Jeth came up the walk, a young woman stepped out onto the porch of the cottage. Honor’s image of her prospective pupil disintegrated.
Miss Jordan had short, golden curls and violet-blue eyes. A perky smile lit her pixielike face. Honor started to like her at once—until she noticed the look in Jeth’s eyes when he gazed at Lucy. Plainly, he was fond of the young woman.
Lucy Jordan was petite, slim and ladylike in her pale blue, wool dress and matching slippers. Compared to her, Honor felt like an awkward giant.
Taking a step forward, Honor suddenly felt her feet slide out from under her on the icy front porch. She reached out to save herself, but there was nothing solid to grip for support. Two strong arms grabbed Honor from behind and held her.
“Easy there, Miss McCall,” Jeth said. “It’s slippery out here.”
“I guess I found that out, didn’t I.” Honor glanced back at Jeth. While her face flamed, she forced a smile. “And thank you. So much.”
“Please,” Lucy said. “Come in out of the cold. Both of you. It’s safer inside.”
Lucy led the way into a cozy parlor decorated in white and shades of blue. “I have hot tea and cookies.”
“Nothing for me,” Honor said, “but thank you for offering.”
Lucy smiled at Jeth over her shoulder. “And you, Reverend? Would you care for something?”
“Frankly, I’d love tea and cookies.”
Miss Jordan and Jeth shared the blue velvet settee, and they were soon deep in conversation. Honor sat in an overstuffed, blue and white striped chair, surveying the formal dining room beyond an arched doorway, trying to avoid witnessing the tender and admiring expression in Jeth’s blue eyes when he looked at the engaging Miss Jordan.
The long rectangular dining table and heavy oak chairs looked tasteful and expensive. White lace curtains added charm. Honor barely heard what was said in the parlor.
“Is this agreeable with you, Miss McCall?” Jeth asked.
Molly Noble Bull Page 9
