by Lori Wick
“Do you have anyone in mind for him?”
“Only Anne.”
The pastor all but dropped the basket.
“Judith.”
“Um?” she said absently, her eyes on the rosebushes.
“Look at me.”
Judith obeyed, blinking when she saw her husband’s astounded face.
“What is it, Frederick?”
“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me. I’ve never heard you talk this way.”
“No, I guess you haven’t,” she agreed sedately. “But I can’t help but think about Anne finding someone to love and cherish her. I know God can do things we never think of, but I would be made of stone if I didn’t wonder whether Mr Weston has noticed our Anne.”
“Why would you be made of stone?”
“Because there have been so many days I wished someone would rescue her, and now Mr Weston comes into our midst. He’s charming, kind, and I can tell by the questions he’s asked you about Scripture that he’s digging deeply and taking his faith seriously.” Judith let out a little sigh. “If he would only love and marry Anne, he’d be just about perfect.”
Pastor had nothing to say. He was thoroughly stunned with his wife’s admission. And at the same time he agreed with her. He hadn’t given hours of thought to the matter, but wasn’t his own heart wondering the same thing just last week when he left Weston and Anne alone in the foyer?
“What does that look mean, dear?” Judith asked into his confused thoughts; she had stopped all movements and turned to face him.
“It just means that I have a lot of praying to do.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I’ve been trying to work this out so I could pray sensibly, when in truth I’ve been trying to work it out so I could tell God what to do. I need to pray for Anne and Mr Weston, not as a couple, but as God’s children, remembering that He has a great plan for each of them.”
Judith thought about this a moment and then asked, “So would you advise me not to pray that Mr Weston notices Anne?”
Pastor Hurst smiled.
“May I think about that and get back to you?”
Judith’s smile matched his own. She laid the small shears in the basket with the flowers, tucked her arm into her husband’s, and turned them so they could walk toward the house. His lack of answer for her might not help Anne at the moment, but as her husband had just said, it wasn’t their job to help, it was their job to wait on God.
Levens Crossing
Anne watched her father stride across the field on Saturday afternoon. She had told him she was making supper, but he had been a man with a mission. Sword belted into place and hat low on his brow, he exited through the back door and was gone. Anne had no idea where he was going or when he would return.
She watched his progress slow a bit and muttered to herself, “Heaven knows how muddy that field might be.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she heard horses on the road. She would have thought nothing of this, but the clopping of their hooves told her they had stopped out front. Anne circled the house slowly and found Palmer, Frank, Walt, and Mr Weston in her yard.
“Hello, Anne,” Palmer greeted, swinging down from the saddle. “We’re on our way to Tipton and thought we’d stop and say hello.”
“I’m so glad you did.” Anne smiled and met everyone’s eyes briefly. “You just missed Father. He’s off on an adventure.”
“Miss Anne,” Walt chimed in, “I think you have a hole starting in your roof.”
“You’re probably right, Walt,” she agreed, turning her back to the group so she could inspect the spot to which he pointed. Palmer had come to stand on one side of her, and Weston had gone to her other.
“One of my coachmen is very handy,” Weston said, gazing at the roof. “He could have that patched in less than an hour.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr Weston, but I’m sure we can manage.”
“But why should you?” Palmer shocked her by asking, his voice making the matter sound simple.
Anne looked to him.
“If Weston’s man can see to it, Anne, his fixing it would be a fine idea.”
Anne looked up at Palmer for a moment and then turned slowly back to Weston. She felt embarrassed in his presence but still met his eyes.
“Thank you, Mr Weston. I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful.”
“Not at all, Miss Gardiner,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers, his voice quiet and kind. “There won’t be time this afternoon, but I’ll have Bert come on Monday.”
“Thank you,” she offered again, this time not able to look away for a moment.
“We’d best be off,” Palmer said.
“Before you leave, Palmer, will you tell me how Lydia is doing?” Anne felt rescued when she was able to turn and ask.
“Very well. She’ll be there tomorrow.”
“At church?”
“That’s what she says.”
Anne laughed. “Tell her I think she’s mad, but I can’t wait to see her.”
“I’ll give her the message.”
The men departed after that, Anne waving them on their way. She stood watching the horses and riders as they moved out of sight, and for that reason, caught the fact that Mr Weston turned often in his saddle to look back at her. Anne found it curious but refused to give way to fantasies. With a stern word to herself, she went inside to finish making supper.
Tipton
“How did Anne seem?” Lydia asked over supper, her eyes on her two sons.
“She’s getting a hole in her roof,” Walt told her. “And Mr Weston has a man who can fix it.”
“How nice, Mr Weston. I’m sure Anne and the Colonel will appreciate that.”
“If the Colonel notices,” Frank put in, his tone lacking criticism.
“That’s certainly true,” his father agreed. “The last time I saw the Colonel, he spoke to me about my father in a most lucid manner. The time before that, he didn’t know me at all.”
“And Anne has said that it’s not unusual for him to prepare a meal for them,” Lydia inserted, “and even lay the table. He likes Anne to fix tea, but the Colonel is surprisingly competent in the kitchen.”
“I like his sword,” Emma said softly, drawing a smile from her father.
“Forgive us, Mr Weston.” Lydia noticed that he had grown quiet. “You probably don’t know about Anne’s father.”
“Actually, I do. He’s a fascinating chap.”
“Indeed. I’m sure all small towns can boast a character, but I don’t know how many of them are armed for battle.”
“Did he see active service?” Weston asked.
“Yes,” Palmer answered. “He served in Burma and saw plenty of action, even sustained a few injuries.”
“But that’s not why he’s ill today,” Lydia filled in, unaware that Anne had already given him these details. “He ran a high fever some years ago now. Everyone was certain he would die. When he came out of it, he was never the same.”
“Miss Gardiner has no siblings, no other family?” Weston asked before he remembered that Pastor had told him this.
“No. Her mother died when she was 14—a gentle and lovely woman. She’s the reason Anne is such a lady.”
“She is that,” Weston said quietly, his eyes on the meat he was cutting.
Lydia couldn’t help but notice the comment. She looked at her guest and then glanced at her husband. Their eyes met for just a moment, but much was communicated.
“He smiled!” Lizzy Palmer said with excitement.
“I saw that,” Anne said, eyes on the baby in her arms.
“I’ve got to tell Mama that Oliver smiled!”
Lizzy darted off, but Emma stayed close, leaning against Anne to have a look at her brother.
“Is he a good baby?” Anne asked Emma.
“Yes. He doesn’t cry very much at all. We hope that Marianne has a boy too, so they can play together.”
“That would be fun, but
don’t forget that you’re a girl and you like to play with your brothers.”
“Not as much as I do with Penny and Lizzy.” Emma’s reply was a fervent one and her eyes had grown large.
Anne smiled at her, and after Emma smiled back, she transferred her gaze back to the baby.
“He’s so sweet,” the eight-year-old said in a sweet voice of her own.
“Yes, he is,” Anne agreed, glancing over at Emma. “Isn’t it fun when babies finally arrive and you can meet them?”
“Yes, and Mama’s not so tired now.”
“I can see that,” Anne said after she looked over at the group of women visiting in the center aisle of the church, completely unaware that she was the topic of conversation.
“Anne’s birthday is next week,” Judith told Marianne and Lydia.
“Which day?” Marianne asked.
“Sunday.”
“Let’s have a party,” Lydia suggested.
“Yes, let’s do that.”
“We can have it at the manse. Whom should we invite?”
The women grew a bit quiet. Lydia peeked around her sister-in-law to see the back of Anne’s head as she bent over to see the baby, and she was struck with one thought: vulnerable.
“Let’s keep it small.”
“I think that’s a good idea. How about our three families and the two new families—so we can get to know them?”
“The Allens and the Shepherds?”
“Yes.”
“Good idea.”
The matter settled, the women separated and went on their way. Marianne found Jennings outside talking with several other men. Palmer invited them to lunch and even offered to take their brood in the carriage. Because they were alone, Marianne told her husband of the birthday plans as soon as they were underway.
“Are we inviting Weston?” Jennings asked immediately.
Marianne turned to gawk at him.
“Why did you ask that?”
Jennings shrugged. “Surely it hasn’t escaped your notice, Mari, that Weston’s falling for Anne would be very convenient.”
Marianne’s hand came to her mouth. This was so unlike her spouse that she wanted to laugh, but she could see that he was sincere.
Jennings glanced over and caught her look, causing a smile to tug at the corners of his handsome mouth.
“You’re on the verge of laughter.”
“It’s out of shock, I assure you.”
Jennings didn’t comment; he only smiled and captured his wife’s hand in his larger one and held it in his lap.
Marianne did nothing to disturb the silence for the remainder of the trip, but she was still in shock when she arrived at Tipton. She was mulling on the exchange, or rather trying to, when her sister-in-law approached.
“Palmer thinks we should invite Mr Weston to Anne’s party. What do you think?”
Marianne’s mouth swung open.
“Jennings said the same thing.”
The women stared at each other, unsure of what to do.
“I think this might be something that Judith and Pastor need to decide,” Marianne said at last.
Lydia looked relieved. “You’re right. I’ll send a note to Judith, and then we’ll leave the decision with them.”
Glad to have the matter settled—at least for the moment—both women went in search of the family.
Chapter Eight
Anne heard the knock at the door on Monday morning, but her mind was far away as she walked through the house to see who might be calling. She was snapped back to her Saturday conversation with Mr Weston when she found a coachman on her step. He bowed, handed her a letter, and stood expectantly. She read:
Dear Miss Gadiner,
This is Bert. He has been commissioned by me to attend to your roof. I’m certain you will find his work most satisfactory, but if for any reason you are displeased, send word to me and I will rectify the situation.
I sincerely hope this finds you and your father well. Please let me know if I can be of further service.
R. Weston
Anne read the missive over twice before looking into the kind eyes of the servant before her.
“Shall I go to work, miss?”
“Yes, please,” Anne couldn’t help but respond to the cheerfulness in his voice.
“Very good, miss. If you’ll just show me the spot.”
“Of course.”
Anne led the way outdoors, stopping at the corner of the house and pointing to the spot on the roof, the one that seemed to be growing each day.
“I see it there,” Bert spoke with confidence. “Shouldn’t be any problem at all.”
With that he went to work, and Anne got out of his way. She went indoors but found she no longer wanted to linger over her cup of tea. She read the letter twice more, studying the neat, bold hand, and for just a moment allowed herself to think on the man himself.
It was simply too bad that she had met Mr Weston under such trying circumstances and that her own situation was so unenviable because he was one of the most amiable men she’d encountered in a long while.
Anne caught sight of a jagged nail on her left hand just then, her heart sinking low at the sight of it. She was a gentleman’s daughter, but that was a well-hidden fact these days.
Before she could start to inspect her dress or fuss over her rough skin, Anne began to wash the breakfast dishes. There was no point in crying for things that could not be.
Not to mention, Anne said to herself, you’re not getting any younger, and eyes made puffy from crying will only add to that point.
“Did you get my note?” Pastor asked Weston the moment he saw him on Sunday.
“I did, thank you.”
“Are you going to be able to join us?”
“Certainly, I wouldn’t miss it. I did pick up a small gift, but I wasn’t sure what you had planned.”
“Let me check with Judith to be certain, but I believe we have a gift for Anne as well.”
Weston nodded and Pastor went on his way, the service scheduled to begin in less then ten minutes.
Weston took a seat and tried to read his Bible to prepare his heart for the morning, but he was distracted. His eyes strayed around the room several times and often to the door. He wasn’t certain, but it didn’t appear as though Anne were present. He wondered if Pastor knew that. A small frisson of fear spiraled through him when he thought about Anne at home. He knew her father was often about, but that man did tend to wander. What if Anne needed something and no one was there…
Only by the greatest force of will did Weston remain in his seat. At the very least he wanted to find Pastor Hurst and ask him where Anne could be. Working to remember that Anne had gotten along well enough before he had entered the scene and praying for calmness, Weston readied himself to listen to the service when it began. Nevertheless, it did his heart a world of good to see Anne slip into church about halfway through the service.
“Happy birthday, Anne.” Judith greeted her friend and gave her a warm hug the moment the sermon ended and she found her near a back pew.
“Thank you, Judith.”
“I didn’t see you at first and worried that something would keep you away from lunch at the manse.”
Anne smiled. “Father remembered my birthday and wanted to talk, so I was late.”
Judith’s mouth opened and Anne laughed.
“Isn’t it amazing?”
“Yes! Did you invite him to lunch?”
“I did, but he didn’t answer.”
“What a nice birthday surprise, Anne,” Judith went on warmly. “I’m so pleased for you.”
“It was very nice, and the most exciting part about it was that I’ve been reading in 2 Kings where the widow’s oil fills all the jars. I was so struck by Elisha’s words to the widow when he told her to gather the jars. He said, ‘borrow not a few.’”
“Why were you struck by that?” Judith said, momentarily forgetting it was her job to get Anne to the manse.
“It just reminded me of expectations. I often come to God expecting only a thimbleful of blessing. The widow didn’t really know what Elisha was about, so his telling her she needed many jars was appropriate. On the other hand, I know what a big God I have, but I wouldn’t expect to need many jars. I would assume God had very little for me when He might have much.
“And then this morning when Father gave me birthday greetings, I realized I haven’t been trusting in the big God I have. I don’t ask God for much. I don’t believe the way I should.”
Judith put her hand on the younger woman’s arm. “How blessed you are, Anne, to see this. How wonderful God is to show us where we lack. I’m so pleased for you. I’ll be praying that this is only the beginning. I’ll be praying that you keep seeing how big our God is and recognizing all the ways He demonstrates it.”
It was a sweet moment, one between special friends that certainly would have ended in another hug, but Anne’s stomach rumbled just then. She giggled when Judith laughed.
“I just realized that Father and I talked right past breakfast.”
“In that case,” Judith stood with a mission, “I think it’s time to get you some lunch.”
Anne stood to join her. She was not going to argue with that.
“They’re coming!” Pastor Hurst said in excitement as he shot back into the dining room.
“Which direction?” Margaret Hurst asked.
“The kitchen.”
The group moved as one to the side of the room that would keep them out of sight the longest. Just two minutes later, their voices coming ahead of them, Judith and Anne appeared in the doorway and the group shouted birthday greetings.
As was expected, Anne was shocked speechless. Gifts were pressed into her hands, hugs were given, and all Anne could do was stare at their faces.
“You’re giving me a party?” she said at last, and the friends, some new and some old, laughed at her.
Lunch was underway just moments later. Allens, Shepherds, Palmers, Jenningses, and Hursts were sprinkled all around the table. Anne found herself between Weston and Lydia, and across from Jennings, Marianne, and Emma Palmer. For a moment Anne listened to Jennings and Weston discuss the work on the conservatory at Brown Manor, but when there was a break, Anne turned to the man on her right.
