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Saints Among Us

Page 21

by Anne Marie Rodgers


  Alice let out a sigh. “Oh, thank you, Dr. Spence, thank you so much! Is she in any pain?”

  “No, she’s resting comfortably. By the way, I have someone else here who would like to speak to you.”

  Mystified, Alice waited while the vet transferred the telephone.

  “Hello? Miss Howard? This is Sallie. I don’t know if you remember me, but I am the technician who helped with Miracle the other day.”

  “Of course, Sallie.” Alice did indeed recall the dark-haired young woman. “Miracle liked you.”

  Sallie laughed. “I guess that might make me memorable since you say she’s not fond of many people. Miss Howard, I wondered if…well, I would like to offer Miracle a foster home until her family can find her. And if they never do appear, I would be interested in adopting her.”

  Alice was stunned. She had been praying for such an event, and this exceeded her greatest hopes. Sallie had medical knowledge and a close relationship with the dog’s vet. “Oh, Sallie, this is wonderful news. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have care for Miracle.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way, Miss Howard. Is there a foster care form to fill out?”

  “Yes,” Alice told her. “I do have an application for you. When it’s complete, I’ll send it down to Florida to the director of Camp Compassion, and once he approves it, Miracle can go to live with you.”

  “Wonderful! May I visit her in the meantime? I thought it might be best if I saw her in her own familiar surroundings initially. Then you could bring her to visit me a few times before she comes here for good. That would be the least stressful way to introduce her to a new home, don’t you think?”

  “I certainly do.” Alice’s pulse was pounding with excitement. Oh, she could not wait to tell Jane and Louise. In addition, she would have to call Mark, of course, and Ellen and the twins. She would enclose a note to Joe with the foster care application. “Thank you so much. How would Sunday be for a first visit? I would do it sooner, but my family is deeply involved in a crafts fair this weekend and we all are a bit overwhelmed right now.”

  At long last, the Saturday of the first Grace Chapel Crafts Fair arrived. All day long, people streamed in and out, examining everything and buying, buying, buying.

  Louise, dressed in practical khaki slacks and a checked blouse that was her idea of casual wear, met Alice in the middle of the Assembly Room shortly before three.

  Alice’s nose was a bit pink, and she rubbed her gloved hands together. She wore a long-sleeved blue sweater over her favorite jeans and she carried a heavy coat. Ethel had recruited her to work outdoors selling hot chocolate and cider, so Alice had been outside much of the day. “It is really chilly out there. At first I didn’t think it was too bad, but that wind cuts right through me.”

  “That is a shame,” Louise said. “I know Aunt Ethel had hoped that her outdoor ideas would be a popular draw.”

  “Oh, they have been,” Alice assured her. “We sold out of hot chocolate about an hour ago, and the last of the cider just went, which is why I am free. My duties are officially completed.” She gestured toward the doors. “So many people attended the carding and spinning demonstrations that next year I think we should offer more than one of each. How has it gone in here?”

  Louise shrugged. “About as I expected. A few small squabbles over square inches, but generally everyone has been polite and helpful. They are happy because they sold a great deal of their wares.” She rocked a little, trying to give her aching feet a break. “Attendance was astounding.”

  Alice looked around. “It looks like a flock of crows picked this field clean.”

  Louise laughed. “That might be more accurate than you think!”

  Tables covered in white cloths were set up all over the room, creating small niches into which different vendors had shown their craft offerings. Tall racks bore baskets, ornaments, scarves and more, but there was plenty of white space atop the tables and on the racks where vendors had run out of items to be sold. The entire space had hummed with bustling people all day long, and only now was it beginning to empty out.

  Along one wall were two long tables. One displayed the raffle items Jane and Sylvia had solicited. Sylvia still sat there, animatedly chatting with people purchasing tickets. The other table had been covered in tasty-looking baked goods. There was a mad rush to purchase those, and the very last brownie had been sold more than an hour ago.

  Jane, looking positively exhausted, joined them a moment later.

  “I’m glad this crafts fair is going to be over today,” Louise remarked. “I’m not sure you could take another week of this pace.”

  “Oh, it’s my own fault,” Jane told her. She was wearing baggy brown corduroy overalls with an ivory turtle-necked blouse. “I stayed up until almost three in the morning baking.”

  “Oh, Jane, whatever for? You already did so much that I’m sure baked goods were not necessary.”

  “I wanted to do it.” Jane grinned. “I’m bleary-eyed and weaving on my feet, but I’ve performed a true labor of love.”

  “You’re a saint.” Louise clasped her hands together as though she were at prayer.

  “So are you. I heard you tell Aunt Ethel you would walk around, answer the vendors’ questions and mediate any disagreements over space. That could not have been a fun job.”

  “Hello, girls!” Ethel rushed up, a pencil stuck behind one ear and a notebook in her hand. Her freshly tinted hair glowed like a beacon, making her easy to spot. “Thank you all for your help. Alice, I know supervising the outside activities meant you were out in that wind all day, but there simply was no one else I would have wanted in that position. Louise, I appreciate all your suggestions. They certainly made this day run far more smoothly than it would have had I fumbled through it on my own. And Jane, dear, I know that most of the credit for the success of this goes to all the hard work you and Sylvia did. I have prayed for the success of this venture, and I think God did a wonderful job of choosing the right people to help me.”

  “Florence helped too,” Jane added. “Don’t forget Florence, Aunt Ethel.”

  “Well, of course I would not forget Florence,” Ethel huffed. “As a matter of fact, last night, I asked her if she would be interested in cochairing the event with me next year. That way, you wouldn’t have such a burden,” she said to Jane. “I confess I didn’t quite realize when I asked you to chair crafts that it would be such an all-consuming task, and I feel bad about that. Dear Louise helped around the inn in Alice’s absence, I know, but—What?” she demanded.

  All three of her nieces were staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

  “What?” she said again.

  “Did you say you asked Florence to cochair?” Jane’s jaw dropped.

  “Why, yes. Oh!” Ethel looked aghast. “Has that hurt your feelings, Jane? I am so sorry I did not ask you first. I just assumed that you would rather not be in charge again next year.” Ethel looked truly distressed. “I am trying so hard to be more sensitive to other people’s feelings. I have never considered a lack of tact to be one of my failings, but this experience has shown me that on rare occasions I fail to recognize when I am being high-handed.”

  There was a silence.

  “Indeed,” Louise finally managed.

  “Well, in any event, if you want the job, Jane, of course it is yours. I’m sure Florence would understand.”

  “No. No!” said Jane hastily. “Florence is wonderfully suited for the crafts chairmanship. I think she will do a fine job.”

  Ethel consulted her notebook. “I must fly! I will talk to you later, girls.”

  Alice thought of Joe MacAfell, the Camp Compassion director, with his ever-present clipboard. Nostalgia washed through her, but her longing to drop everything and return to Florida had receded. She was necessary here. At the hospital, at the inn and with her family.

  When Alice had decided to travel south, God opened a door and offered her a new path to tread, and she accepted eagerly. Ne
vertheless, she knew His present plans for her included sharing her life with her two sisters and aunt, as well as with many others.

  She tuned in to the conversation to see Louise shaking her head and Jane laughing.

  “I will never forget that,” said Jane, almost doubled over. She quoted, “‘I have never considered a lack of tact to be one of my failings.’ That might be the funniest thing I have ever heard.”

  “‘On rare occasions I fail to recognize when I am being high-handed.’” Louise was chuckling now too. “I’m going to cross-stitch that onto a sampler so that the next time Aunt Ethel and I go head-to-head, I can read it and refrain from getting angry.”

  “What makes you think there will be a next time?” Alice asked.

  Louise and Jane looked at each other, then back at their dear, idealistic sister. “There will be!” they said in unison.

  About the Author

  A nne Marie Rodgers has published nearly three dozen novels since 1992, has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award and has won several Golden Leaf awards, among others. In addition, she has been a teacher of handicapped and preschool children, has been involved in animal-rescue efforts for many years, and has raised puppies for Guiding Eyes for the Blind. Anne Marie and her family live in State College, Pennsylvania.

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  Once you visit the charming village of Acorn Hill, you’ll never want to leave. Here, the three Howard sisters reunite after their father’s death and turn the family home into a bed and breakfast. They rekindle old memories, rediscover the bonds of sisterhood, revel in the blessings of friendship and meet many fascinating guests along the way.

 

 

 


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