by Janet Dean
“Not sure which, but one of the Moore brothers. Leastways they hang around her like flies on horse dung.”
Ted wanted to slug someone, hardly God’s way. But these men were having themselves a good old time, at his expense. And smearing Elizabeth’s good name. Well, he wouldn’t tolerate it. “Don’t you have business to attend to? Supplies to buy? Milk to sell? Instead of making a nuisance of yourselves?”
Orville grinned. “Shore do, but this showdown’s gonna be a whole lot more interesting.”
“I’m going along because I want to know what my wife is doing at that club,” Will said.
Great. Ignoring the occasional elbow jab in the ribs, Ted strode on, determined to keep his life from falling apart. In front of the shop, now whitewashed brighter than a baby’s first tooth, he turned to the men. “I’d like to speak to my wife alone. Well, with Jacob here, but otherwise, alone.”
Will folded his arms across his chest. “Reckon that’s a decision for the ladies.”
Ted opened the door. Women gathered at the tables while his wife stood at the podium, unaware of his presence. The ladies had come as Elizabeth had predicted. And from all appearances, they were enjoying the meeting. Elizabeth had captured their hearts just like she’d captured his.
His gaze swept the room. Shelves on the back wall displayed a few books. Red-checked cloths covered small tables with wooden folding chairs decked out in red-and-white-striped bows at the back, fancied up for a party of their own. A pot of violets sat in the middle of each table. White curtains fluttered in the breeze. The room was cozy and clean, with a smidgen of style that shouted Elizabeth.
His breath caught. Why hadn’t he grasped how much she meant to him?
Wearing one of her new dresses, the blue gingham, hair coifed like the first time he’d laid eyes on her, Elizabeth made a fetching sight. His treacherous heart skipped a beat. Beautiful—and devious—that described his wife.
He walked in, the pastor on his heels. The room, abuzz with chatter, quieted. Doffing hats, the men crowded in behind him.
“Why, Ted. How nice of you to show an interest in the club,” Elizabeth said, polite and sweet, as if she hadn’t left him a week ago. “But this isn’t a convenient time. We’re in the middle of a meeting.”
Heat scorched Ted’s neck. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but this was when I could get away.” He spun his hat in his hands. “I’m here to ask you to come back home. Jacob’s along to remind you our vows said ‘till death do us part.’ There’s no ladies’ club escape clause in those vows, right, Jacob?”
Jacob nodded. Couldn’t he at least thump the Good Book for emphasis? The man was worthless at spreading guilt. By now, his pa could’ve had Elizabeth on her knees. His lungs squeezed. Not that anyone should pattern himself after John Logan.
Ted surveyed the tight-lipped women. By the looks they shot him, he’d already ruffled their feathers. He was on his own with his rebel wife and a roomful of supporters eager to have his hide.
“Who are these men?” Elizabeth motioned to the crowd that had followed him. “The Break-the-vows posse?”
Cecil hooted and slapped his leg. “Ain’t she something?”
The rest of the men chuckled. Ted clenched his jaw. It appeared Cecil and Oscar spent more time with his wife than he did. He gave the group a scowl. With a final snicker, they quieted.
Orville Radcliff cleared his throat. “Reckon you could call us a posse. It’s got a nice ring to it.” He hitched his pants up a notch. “Say the word, Ted, and we’ll hog-tie her for you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Though the idea had crossed his mind. Ted took a step closer. “I can handle this on my own.”
Elizabeth strode from behind the podium, eyes glaring. Had she read his thoughts?
Oscar snorted. “You’re in for it, Ted.” He plopped a foot on the rung of a chair. “Mercy, my bunion’s killing me.”
Elizabeth held up her hand. “Don’t take another step.” She parked her fists on her hips. “I won’t have your dusty clodhoppers messing up our freshly mopped floor.”
“It’s time they gave a thought to the work they make,” Gertrude Wyatt agreed.
Ted yanked off his boots, first one then the other, then stood there feeling like a fool in his stocking feet, his big toe poking through his sock. He covered it with the other foot, but not soon enough, from the smile on Elizabeth’s face.
The other men complied and then fanned out against the wall in their stocking feet, all except for the pastor. His shoes gleamed, as if dirt didn’t dare cling to his footgear.
“I worked hard on those floors,” Cecil grumped. “But Elizabeth’s biscuits are worth it. Why, I’d scrub the streets for a daily batch.”
Ted’s gaze darted to his wife. She was cooking for other men?
“I told you it was one of the Moore brothers,” Orville said. “They may be getting up in years, but they ain’t dead.”
“Who said I was dead?”
Elizabeth patted Oscar’s shoulder. “You’re not dead. Not the way you eat biscuits.”
“I see the womenfolk’s point, gents,” Cecil said. “You traipse in here without a thought to the mess you’re making. As the man in charge of the town’s streets, I have my hands full, I’ll tell ya. I can sympathize with the ladies.”
Elizabeth nodded. “A point well taken, Mr. Moore.”
Cecil scratched his head. “What are you saying, missus?”
“I said you make a good point. As the street maintenance supervisor, you’ve seen the thoughtless behavior of your gender.” Elizabeth gave Cecil a big smile. “The women of New Harmony are in your debt, sir.”
Cecil puffed up like a rooster. “You can count on me.” Then he scratched his head. “Now that gender part, I’m not sure—”
“She’s referring to men, Cecil. Shouldn’t you be on our side?” Jim said.
“I’m on the side my biscuits are buttered on.” Cecil patted his stomach.
“What I want to know is why my wife’s sitting instead of getting our supplies at Sorenson’s?” Will Wyatt said.
Gertrude stood with her hands on her hips. Mercy, they all acted like Elizabeth. “I work hard all week, taking care of you and the children. I need time away. Like you—hanging out with the men, playing checkers and telling those tall tales of yours—only we’re actually using our minds to solve the town’s problems.”
Will’s eyes about popped out of his head. “I’ve never known you to speak to me that way.”
Suddenly the men and their wives stood toe to stocking toe, ready for battle, except for Cecil and Oscar who had no wives, only bunions to keep them company. The whole thing had gotten out of hand.
If Jacob was right and God intended him to learn something from this standoff, He’d given Ted a whole series of sermons on marriage. But right now, Ted wanted life to return to normal, when the house had been peaceful—well, if not peaceful, interesting.
Ted edged closer to his wife. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes shining. His stomach knotted. Maybe keeping her on the farm was unfair. “Can I speak to you alone?”
Her eyes softened.
Around them couples argued. Ted could barely think above the din. A piercing whistle shrilled, shutting down every sound. All eyes swiveled toward his wife.
Elizabeth removed two fingers from her mouth. “Let’s adjourn the meeting and serve refreshments,” she said demurely. “Mrs. Johnson made the cake.”
Soon the men joined their wives, sipping tea. Ted took a chair at an empty table. Elizabeth finally made it to his side carrying a slice of cake and cup of tea. She set them in front of him then took a seat.
He cleared his throat. “Where’s Robby?”
“Over at the mercantile, helping unpack supplies.”
“How’s he doing?”
She smiled. “Oh, Ted, Robby’s better. He’s been afraid the farm, the dog, everything would disappear like our house in Chicago. I reassured him. He still misses Martha and Papa and grieves f
or Mama. But he’s able to talk about his feelings now.”
“I’m glad.” He took her hand. “You were right about that. Right about a lot of things.” He sighed, hoping he could make her understand how her leaving had turned his world upside down. “Anna and Henry miss you. A lot.”
Moisture gathered in her eyes. “I miss them, too.”
Hope for his marriage filled him, swelling in his chest until he wanted to shout with the joy of it.
“What about you, Ted? Do you miss me?”
He missed her, all right. More than parched ground missed rain and the grass missed the morning dew. He missed her like he’d lost a limb, a piece of his heart.
But he couldn’t tell her that with Oscar and Cecil at the next table hanging on his every word like hungry dogs waiting for a scrap to fall.
“Of course I do. Last night’s dinner was a disaster, worse than any meal you fixed.”
She pursed her lips. “I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel.”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He lowered his voice. “I miss you. More than you could imagine.”
Jacob appeared at their table. He clapped a hand on Ted’s back. “Well, looks like you two are working it out. I’d better get back before Lydia sends out a search party.”
In accordance with the pitiful help the pastor had been, Ted felt like subtracting a chunk from Sunday’s offering.
He took Elizabeth’s hand. It felt right in his—soft, feminine. Inside that delicate frame resided a strong, intelligent, vital woman. Already she belonged to the town more than him. He knew she could do anything she set her mind to.
He drew little circles on her palm with his thumb. “Hubert mentioned you’re doing an excellent job managing his books.”
“He did?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “He also said you bartered with him over the price of eggs.”
“It wasn’t all that hard. He’s a softy really. And worn out handling the store.”
Ted nodded. “He’s talked about selling but can’t find a buyer.”
She flashed a smile. “He likes you.”
“That’s nice but I only care what you think of me.”
“I think you’re a good man, Ted Logan. A good father. A good citizen. But you don’t know much about women.”
“I know I’m proud of the job you’re doing for Sorenson. I know I’m proud of your plans to improve this town. I know I want you to come home with me.”
I know I want to hold you in my arms. But he wouldn’t admit that when Elizabeth showed no sign of readiness to hear it.
She studied his face. She rose. “I’ll go with you.”
The weight on Ted’s shoulders vanished. Leaning back in his chair, he watched his wife promenade around the room, speaking to her friends. He liked the way she moved. He liked the tendrils of hair teasing against her neck. He liked her smile, brighter than the summer sun.
The front two legs of his chair hit the floor with a thud.
His heart pounded inside his chest. He was in love. Deeply and totally in love with his wife. The knowledge scared him silly.
He watched Elizabeth chatting as if nothing of consequence had just transpired. Oh, how he loved her. Nothing and no one would keep him from his wife.
She went into the back room and came out carrying her satchel then stopped in front of him. “I’m coming home with you. Robby’s doing better and we both miss Anna and Henry. And that cot’s killing my back.”
Not exactly the reasons he wanted to hear. Yet the softness in her eyes gave him hope she hadn’t told the entire truth.
“But I’m not giving up this club.” She raised her voice so all could hear. “We’ll meet every Saturday. You ladies can count on that.”
Cecil hung his head. Oscar toed the floor. “You, too, Oscar and Cecil.”
The brothers’ heads snapped up and smiles took over their faces.
“I’m ready, Ted, to pick up Robby and head to the farm. I hope you’re up to having me around.”
Ted opened the door. As she marched through, he glanced back at his neighbors. They grinned at him, as if he’d lost the battle. His wife was coming home with him.
He’d won, hadn’t he?
Chapter Nineteen
That night Ted sat beside Elizabeth on the swing, the soft squeak of the chain the only sound, pretending nothing stood between them. He knew otherwise. “There’s something I need to say.”
She turned toward him. Even in the dim light, he could see her eyes glistened. Were those tears? Neither of them would have any peace until they got things settled.
He cleared his throat. “That freedom you’re looking for, Elizabeth. It isn’t in a place. It’s here.” He laid a hand over his heart. “Inside you.” He waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, he pushed on. “I want you to be happy. What do you need from me?”
“I need to feel I’m worth more than how well I handle a list of chores.”
“You think my opinion of you hinges on how well you run our household?”
She sighed. “I’m very different from Rose.”
Was Rose at the root of Elizabeth’s problem? Some false notion she didn’t measure up to his deceased wife? He’d probably planted that seed. Not intentionally, but he was to blame.
“I won’t pretend you haven’t had struggles in areas where Rose excelled. But Rose never got involved with anything outside her family and church.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m proud of the person you are. Proud of all you’ve set in motion to make New Harmony a better place to live.”
She touched his cheek. “Thank you for listening and really hearing what matters to me.”
“I like that you have thoughts on things.” He grinned. “On most everything.”
“I must drive you wild.”
She did, but not in the way she meant. But if he admitted he loved her, she’d run. He didn’t understand why his wife didn’t trust love, but pushing her wouldn’t work.
“You’re vibrant. Fun loving. Smart. This town wants what you have. Needs it. Why, Cecil and Oscar are in love.”
“With my biscuits.” She chuckled. “Jealous?”
“Of the Moore brothers? No, they’re old enough to be your father. But I am jealous of what you’ve shared with them. How they’ve helped you while I’ve stood back—” he swallowed past the lump in his throat “—hoping you’d fall on your face.”
The motion of the swing stopped. “You did?”
“I thought if you succeeded at the club, you’d stay away.”
“I’m your wife. I couldn’t stay away permanently.”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d do. You’re not exactly predictable.” Ted pulled her to him, giving her a squeeze in the crook of his arm, then kissed her gently on the forehead.
She stiffened and pulled away. “I’m tired.” She got to her feet, taking her scent, the warmth of her skin, the essence he craved.
A second longer and he’d have kissed her the way he wanted to. He plowed a hand through his hair. Exactly the reason she’d gone inside. He’d thought he had his wife back, but she was as absent as if she’d stayed at the club. What could he do to ease the gulf between them?
As the Logan wagon pulled into church, Rebecca scurried over to meet it then took Elizabeth aside. Giving them privacy, Ted herded the children into the sanctuary.
“Valera Mitchell lost her mother yesterday,” Rebecca said. “We knew she didn’t have long. I thought we…”
As Rebecca talked about providing food for the wake, Elizabeth could barely concentrate, but nodded at whatever plan Rebecca suggested before hurrying off to join her family.
Elizabeth recalled once again the pain of losing Mama—her shallow, reedy breaths; the last gasp; the final goodbye. Closing her eyes, she tried to block the memories, but tears leaked beneath her lids. Now Valera was going through the same suffering.
Swiping at her tears, Elizabeth forced her feet toward the doors to the sanctuary. Mere feet from th
e door, she caught sight of Valera coming toward her, wearing black and a serene smile. Though she yearned to avoid Valera’s grief, she waited to offer her condolences, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
When Valera reached her, through her clogged throat Elizabeth mumbled something about the sorrow of losing a mother.
“Thank you, Elizabeth. I’m at peace, knowing God was right there with my mother till the end. I’ll always miss her, but it comforts me to know she’s with God.” She smiled. “Why, right at this moment, Ma’s probably singing soprano with the choir of angels welcoming her into Heaven.” She patted Elizabeth’s arm, offering comfort instead of receiving it. “I’m grateful for my church family, especially at times like this.”
Somehow Elizabeth made her way to the pew where Ted and the children waited. Henry reached for her and she tugged him onto her lap while Anna nestled close to her father and Robby leaned into her. As the song leader led the opening song, all Elizabeth could think about was Valera’s peace with losing her mother.
If only she’d been close to God when she’d lost Mama. If only she could’ve leaned on Him, not just then, but during her troubles since. But her faith had been shaky, immature. She hadn’t been convinced of the existence of Heaven. So much had changed. Now she accepted God’s Word as truth. Now she believed God’s promises. Now she recognized only God could fill this hole in her heart.
Since she’d come to New Harmony, Elizabeth had absorbed Pastor Sumner’s words like parched ground soaked up rain. He’d spoken about God and His love. To think of God as a loving Father both startled and comforted her. Tears filled her eyes. God loved her even now. He knew what she needed. Knew she sat in this pew each week hungering for forgiveness, hungering for a clean slate, hungering for the peace only He could give. And He gave it freely. All she had to do was answer His Call.
Until now she’d hesitated to give Him her life. Perhaps pride stood in the way. Perhaps fear she’d embarrass Ted. Perhaps her struggle with obedience—something she’d fought her entire life.
When the congregation sang “Jesus is Calling,” something inside Elizabeth softened. Her barren conscience bloomed in her chest, cultivating a desire to rid herself of that long list of her sins. She yearned to be forgiven. She yearned to be washed clean. She yearned to start anew.
