Bachelor's Puzzle

by Judith Pella

  The women all fairly preened with his words. Feeling he was on a roll he went on, gushing so effusively even he began to wonder about his sincerity. “I have never seen such fine work. My mama used to make blankets like this, but never this fine. You must tell me which of you did what part. And please tell me your names again so I can truly remember.”

  “This one is mine,” said the petite woman as she pointed to a design that had squares in the center and petal-like things in each corner. “I am Emma Jean Stoddard. That block,” she added, pointing to another, “was made by my daughter Sarah, who . . . well, couldn’t join us today.”

  Zack was no expert, but he could tell the daughter’s block was one of the most intricate in the quilt.

  The other ladies then pointed out theirs: Ada Newcomb, Jane Donnelly, Nessa Wallard, Florence Parker, and the only other young person in the group besides the Newcomb girls, Mabel Parker. Zack was rather surprised to note that the most intricate blocks were made by three of the daughters, not the older and presumably more experienced women. He also noted that one of the females had remained silent.

  “Maggie, you didn’t show me yours,” Zack said.

  “Oh, it’s nothing to speak of.” She waved vaguely toward the quilt. “That one.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly which she had indicated, but he said, “It’s beautiful.”

  “Well, it’s nice of you to say anyway.”

  Zack gazed once more upon the quilt, and he was truly awed and touched. These people had certainly gone the extra mile to welcome him.

  With real emotion that surprised even him, he said, “I am truly overwhelmed. I have been here only a few hours, and you have already made it feel like home to me.I thank you all very much!”

  Before the group departed he was offered a dinner invitation from each family for the evenings during which the Copelands were out of town. He was also shown around Mrs. Copeland’s kitchen so that he could make himself at home in the morning. When his hostess returned she would prepare his meals. In the meantime, she had left several loaves of bread, eggs in the cooler, and a canister full of coffee beans.

  After everyone departed, he went back upstairs to his room. This was better than any hotel he’d stayed in and even better than the rich estate in San Francisco he’d lived in while posing as an English lord. This was better because of its homey feel. He had never really felt comfortable in the mansion. He didn’t realize until he sank down into the upholstered chair that it had been far too many years since he’d known anything like a real home, like his mother’s house. He could enjoy this for a few months. But no more than that, he told himself, for it might start to make him feel too caged in.

  He looked around and noted all the little touches the ladies had done for him. The porcelain wash pitcher and basin were almost new. The dresser scarves were quite fancy. There were even a few books on the shelf by the desk. Never had anyone been so thoughtful toward him. I t gave him a peculiar feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

  And later that night after taking dinner with the Stoddard family, when he slipped beneath the bedcovers, under that fine quilt, the feeling returned. There was something about being warmed by a cover stitched with loving hands.

  He was indeed a fortunate man.

  But the contented sigh that rose to his lips was suddenly wiped away like a harsh wind yanking a tree up by its roots. The good feeling inside him became like a ball of lead as he remembered that the quilt had not been made for him at all but for a man who lay in an unmarked grave.

  NINE

  “I don’t see why I had to come!” Maggie said as she trooped up the walkway to the Copeland house.

  “I’d feel brazen coming by myself,” Ellie replied.

  “But Mama made the cookies and told you to come,” argued Maggie. “She said she’d heard Mabel was going and maybe some of the other girls.”

  “For once don’t argue, Mags.”

  “Personally, I think it is shocking for all the girls to come to a single man’s home unchaperoned!” Maggie did her best Grandma Newcomb impression.

  Ellie rolled her eyes but said no more because they were at the door. She raised her hand to knock. I n a moment the door was opened by Reverend Locklin himself.

  “More visitors!” he exclaimed. “How pleasant. Come on in, please.”

  The Copeland house was unlike the Newcomb home in that the front door opened into a foyer off of which was not one but two parlors. ReverendL ocklin led them to one of these. Maggie saw they had been preceded by Mabel and I ris. Greetings were exchanged and the reverend bid them to have a seat. The Copelands also had very nice furnishings—chintz-covered chairs, a velvet divan, and intricately carved tables and such that could have fit into a palace.

  “My, oh my!” Reverend L ocklin said as Ellie handed him the cookies. “More goodies. You ladies are going to have me bursting out of my duds.”

  “Looks like you’re already doing that,” Maggie said.

  “Maggie!” scolded Ellie.

  “She’s right,” chuckled the minister. “I bought these things right out of seminary when times were lean, and so was I!”

  “Surely your carpetbag is not all your baggage. You’ll have more clothing when your trunk arrives,” Mabel offered.

  Naturally Mabel couldn’t imagine traveling anywhere without at least one trunk.

  “My trunk . . .”

  For a moment it looked as if the reverend was hearing an entirely different language.

  “You never know about shipping these days,” he added with a nervous chuckle.

  Maggie couldn’t think why he’d be nervous. Perhaps he was ashamed of his impoverishment. She frowned a bit, and at just that moment Reverend L ocklin’s eyes met hers but quickly skittered away. She hoped he didn’t take her frown wrong. Yet it would only make matters worse to mention it.

  “The next time someone goes to St. Helens, they will inquire at the freight office,” Ellie said.

  “You know, ReverendL ocklin,” Mabel said, “my mother is an excellent seamstress. Perhaps she can alter your things for you.”

  “If she’s so good, Mabel,” queried Maggie, “why don’t she sew any of your clothes? My mother, on the other hand, sews and alters our things all the time. She’d be happy to help out.”

  “Well,” Mabel replied, “my mother would if she had to.”

  “Well, then,” Reverend L ocklin said diplomatically, “I shall speak to both of them.If my . . . ah . . . trunk does arrive, it will contain plenty of work for both of them.”

  As the reverend placed the dish of cookies on a table, Maggie also noted a two-layered chocolate cake and two loaves of bread. The other ladies had had the same idea as their mother: a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

  “I was just about to get tea,” ReverendL ocklin said. “If you’ll excuse me,I’ll be right back.”

  “Let me help you, Reverend,” offered Mabel.

  “Thank you, but I can manage. You ladies relax. You are my guests.” He then left.

  Maggie had the feeling he was trying to escape, and no wonder, the poor fellow being attacked only a day after his arrival!

  When they were alone, Mabel said rather sheepishly, “I suppose we all had the same idea.”

  At least she didn’t try to hide behind lame excuses. I t was best to be open about their intentions, though it could be disastrous if the reverend knew.

  “It is our place to be sociable,”Iris said.

  “Yes,” added Ellie, “to make the pastor feel welcome.”

  “Come on, girls!” Maggie said with disgust. “At least Mabel is honest about it. The fly is being drawn into the web.”

  Mabel smiled at the jest. She was always so confident and self-possessed. “It doesn’t make sense to pretend otherwise. But, Maggie,I am surprised you are here. Aren’t you far too young for the man? And in any case, I thought you were more interested in fishing and tagging after that awful Tommy Donnelly.”

  Maggie felt as if
she had been slapped, and after she had tried to compliment Mabel! She was furious on so many levels. She hated it when the older girls treated her like a child, especially when she was smarter and probably more mature than any of them. She also rankled at the insult of her friend Tommy. But mostly she was mad because Mabel was right about her disinterest and she indeed hated being here. However, for her sister’s sake, she could say nothing.

  “Yes,” put inIris, “leave the minister to real women.”

  “As if he’d be interested in girls as desperate as the bunch of you!” Maggie retorted.

  “He definitely won’t be interested in a child,” Mabel said.

  Maggie glanced at her sister, thinking some defense might be forthcoming from her, but Ellie was quietly looking down at her hands. She had made Maggie come, even made her put on a dress, and now she had nothing to say! Maggie decided then and there that she would show all of them. She would go after the minister. She would catch him even if she didn’t want him. Then she’d free him to go to one of them as second choice.

  Finally Ellie spoke, “Everyone, please, let’s not get so disagreeable about this. Maggie isn’t interested—”

  Just then Reverend L ocklin returned carrying a heavy-laden tray, which he set on the table in front of the divan. He reached for the teapot.

  Maggie fairly jumped forward. “Let me do that, Reverend. It is woman’s work, you know,” she said in her sweetest tone. These girls had no idea just what she could do if she put her mind to it. And as for Ellie, if she had been intending to finally support Maggie, the effort was paltry and too late.

  “I must say,” ReverendL ocklin said, “I have never been made to feel so welcome in any of the parishes I’ve served in.”

  “I thought we were your first parish,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, well . . . yes, my first regular parish is what I meant,” he said. “Of course, in my . . . uh . . . training I served as an assistant in several churches.”

  “Most of us knew that,” Mabel said, “but you see, Maggie is too young to understand the workings of the church. My mother says you served in Boston.”

  “Yes, a wonderful church.”

  “Pastor Markus was a friend of my grandfather,” Mabel said. “Though my branch of the family comes from Maine, my grandparents were originally from Boston. I have an aunt there with whom my brother is staying. My brother, Reverend, is attending Harvard.”

  The Parkers always managed to find a way to slip that bit of bragging into every conversation. Evan Parker had been away for three years attending law school, and before that he’d gone to a private preparatory school in Portland, thus, if Maggie didn’t know better, she would almost think he was an imaginary family member they conjured up just to brag about.

  “Anyway,” Mabel continued, “Grandfather went to school with Pastor Markus.”

  “And what a dear old gentleman he is.I learned so much from him,” Reverend Locklin said.

  “You knew him then, before he passed?”

  “For a short time, but he made a great impression.” The reverend reached for the dish of cookies. “Please, help me eat these.” He passed the plate around.

  Maggie took a cookie and nibbled on it thoughtfully. Reverend L ocklin did not look at all comfortable. Maybe his stint with the old minister hadn’t been as pleasant as he let on. Maybe he simply felt as if he was being badgered with questions. Mabel could be overbearing. Maggie decided she could do herself great good by rescuing the man.

  “Reverend L ocklin, will you be able to find your way around the circuit?” she asked. “It’s a bit far-flung. I t is a good fifteen miles from here to the farthest point in Deer Island.”

  “I do have a map.”

  “I know the countryside fairly well.I could guide you if you like.”

  “Thank you so much for the offer,” he said. “I’ll speak to your father. He probably has made some arrangement along this line.”

  He seemed to emphasize “your father,” and Maggie realized she had gone too far. Of course an honorable man, much less a minister, wouldn’t agree to ride over the country with a girl unchaperoned.

  “You’ll find your first church easily enough,”I ris said, “since it is right here in Maintown.”

  “That is right,” Reverend L ocklin said, “you are the first Sunday of the month. And the fourth, I understand from what Mr. Newcomb told me.”

  “Yes,” Mabel said. “Since you live here, that’s how it works out.If you lived in one of the other towns, they would get two Sundays. So, you see, we are very fortunate.” Mabel flashed a most beguiling smile.

  “Bachelor Flat is the second Sunday,” Maggie put in, mostly to distract the reverend from the glow of that smile, “but it’s not far. You could ride there and back in a couple of hours. Deer Island and Columbia City are a good distance away, though near each other and so share the third Sunday, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.”

  “We are so looking forward to the service,” Mabel said.

  “Many of us—those who wanted some churching in the interim since Pastor McFarland’s death—have had to attend other denominations. We will be happy to hear preaching from our own for a change.”

  “Have you a topic for your sermon?”Iris asked.

  “A topic?” Reverend L ocklin’s voice rose slightly on the word topic. He cleared his throat. “I’m working on it.”

  “Only two days away! We are so excited,” Mabel said.

  “Two days . . .” he said.

  Maggie thought she detected a sudden pallor in the man’s expression. Of course he’d be nervous about speaking before a new congregation.

  They chatted for a while longer, though after the mention of the sermon, the reverend seemed a little detached and distracted. Maggie wondered if he was like her and had put off an unwelcome task until the last minute. She would think giving a sermon would be a minister’s favorite thing to do.

  Finally Ellie rose and said they had taken too much of the reverend’s time. She thanked him for the tea. Maggie realized then it was the first time Ellie had spoken since the tea had been served. That was odd. Ellie wasn’t exactly an excessively talkative sort, but neither was she shy.

  In any case, when Ellie took her leave, the others were all but forced to do so, as well. They had been there longer, and it would seem as if they had taken even more of the minister’s precious time. He tried to hide it, but he seemed relieved when he walked the group to the door. I ris reminded him that he was to have dinner at their house that evening.

  It was a long walk home, but fortunately Mabel and I ris had ridden horses, so Maggie didn’t have to put up with their company. She and Ellie had been forced to make the mile trek on foot because Dad couldn’t spare any horses. Maggie tried to talk to Ellie as they walked, but her sister was still very quiet. It was almost as if she was mad about something, yet it was only Maggie who had a right to be mad.

  “You didn’t hardly say a thing today,” Maggie said. Even if Ellie didn’t have a right, Maggie did not like her sister to be mad at her.

  Ellie shrugged.

  “Reverend Locklin is going to think you don’t like him.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ellie finally mumbled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never felt more foolish and more ashamed—at myself for being there and at the way the rest of you threw yourselves at him. Even you, Maggie!”

  “I made a block for the quilt.I guess I have a right to go after the minister.”

  “What changed you?”

  “It doesn’t matter!” Maggie tried to mimic Ellie’s earlier words.

  “You are right. It doesn’t matter.”

  “What happened to you, Ellie? You said someone has to marry the minister, so it may as well be you. You’ve dreamed of being a minister’s wife. Don’t you care any longer?”

  “I won’t compete with my friends, especially with my sister. That’s all.”

  Suddenly ashamed of her earlier
anger, Maggie confessed, “I was just mad at Mabel and Iris for saying I was too young.”

  “You’ve said yourself you are too young. You are only seventeen.”

  “Mama was married at seventeen and expecting her first child.”

  “What do you want, Maggie? Are you interested or not?”

  “Well,I’m’m sure not gonna let the likes of Mabel and I ris get him.”

  Thoughtfully, Ellie said, “Once you said you felt sorry for the minister before you even met him. Well, now I feel sorry for him. It’s not right what we are doing.”

  “It would have been better if he’d been short, fat, and ugly,” Maggie said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “He’s none of those things, that’s for sure.” There was a dreaminess in Ellie’s tone. “But I no longer want to be part of the frenzy.”

  “You’d be the best one for the job, Ellie. You’d make the best minister’s wife.”

  “But now I see he’s a real person, not just a title and an image.I realize I want a husband to love, not just one to give me status.I t wouldn’t be fair to him. He must also want a wife who will love him for who he is and not for the position he can offer.”

  “But such a handsome real person!”

  “I know you are not that shallow, Mags.”

  “And I know you would never snag a man just for what he can offer you.” More reasonably Maggie added, “But you will never know if there is more to it than that if you don’t get acquainted with him first, just like we know a quilt isn’t going to win him. Ellie, you need to do that much.”

  “I’m not going to buzz around him like a bee at a honeycomb.”

  “Of course not. It isn’t your way.”

  They continued walking in silence. Maggie realized her angry resolve before was just bombast. She’d do much better to keep encouraging her sister. Either way, she was going to make certain it was a Newcomb who walked down the aisle with the minister.