The Matrimony Plan

by Christine Johnson

  “You did? Then you had to sleep in the daytime—” She halted when Gabriel roared. He’d been teasing her, and she fell for it. “You made that up.”

  He nodded, still laughing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but the thought of my brothers and I sharing a bed was too funny. Charlie, the oldest, doesn’t like anyone talking to him, least of all snoring next to him.”

  She knew he was trying to soothe her hurt feelings, but it still stung that she’d been so gullible. At least she wasn’t poor. “Well, I never had to share anything.”

  He sobered, looking at her with clear eyes. “I imagine that’s true.”

  Slinky barked, reminding them of the business at hand.

  “Do you want to hold or scrub?” Gabriel asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  He nodded at the dog. “One of us has to hold, uh, Slinky, while the other scrubs.”

  One holding and one scrubbing, all around a little washtub. There’d be soap and water, and they’d be far too close.

  “Well,” he asked again. “Which will it be?”

  What if water splashed onto her dress? What if Gabriel accidentally touched her? Which was most ladylike? Which was proper?

  “I—I—I’ll hold him,” she finally said.

  “Fine. Bring him here.”

  “Here, boy. Have a nice bath.” She tugged on the leash, but Slinky had other ideas. He barked and danced away, nearly pulling the rope from her hands.

  With a laugh, Gabriel scooped up the dog and plopped him into the tub. The water splashed out, soaking Felicity’s skirt.

  “Oh,” she cried, pulling the wet chiffon from her legs. “Be careful.”

  Slinky stood in shock for an instant before leaping from the water and tearing away. The rope ripped through Felicity’s hands, burning her palm. The wet dog ran around the yard barking. At least he didn’t hurdle the fence. After making the circuit, he stopped by Felicity and shook.

  “Stop, stop!” she cried, turning from the spray of doggy-smelling drops.

  Gabriel, to his credit, stifled any laughter. He merely walked over to Slinky, picked up the rope and handed it to Felicity. “You might want to hold him around the neck.”

  That meant practically hugging the wet dog. Gingerly she stepped close, bent over and held the collar part of the rope between her index finger and thumb.

  “That’s never going to keep him still,” Gabriel remarked as he lathered up the soap. “Get a good hold of him.”

  “But he’s wet,” she cried. “My dress.”

  She wanted to walk away, to leave Slinky to the fate he deserved, but then he looked up at her with those big brown eyes. His little white eyebrows pressed together as if he was worried she’d leave him, too.

  “All right,” she sighed, kneeling on the grass and ruining her dress entirely. “For your sake.” She wrapped her arms around his wet, smelly body.

  “Hold him tight,” Gabriel said. “He’s probably not going to like this.”

  That was an understatement. The moment the soap hit Slinky’s fur, he yanked out of Felicity’s grasp, sending her tumbling to the ground.

  “Don’t let go,” Gabriel cried, but it was too late.

  This time Slinky was making a break for it.

  Gabriel chased him around the yard, hollering the dog’s name and alternately calling him bad or good. Neither worked. Slinky stayed just beyond reach, like that day at the depot. Felicity couldn’t help but laugh. By the time the dog, with Gabriel in pursuit, had made a second circuit, she was doubled over.

  “You could help,” he panted, making a flying leap for Slinky’s rope.

  He crashed to the ground but missed the rope, which Slinky pulled just out of reach. The mutt ran ten feet away and barked, but Gabriel lay facedown, unmoving.

  “That’s no way to call a dog,” she said, echoing his words at the depot. She leaned over and held out her hand. “Here, Slinky. Here, boy.”

  The dog came straight to her, and she grabbed the rope, pleased that she’d turned the tables on Reverend Gabriel Meeks. She glanced at him, expecting a sheepish grin, but he hadn’t budged. He was still facedown. A jolt of fear shot through her. What if he was injured? And she’d been making fun of him—a minister of God.

  Horrified, she went to him. “Are you all right?”

  He didn’t move. What if he’d hit his head on a rock? What if he was…dead? Felicity couldn’t breathe. She let go of Slinky, who sniffed Gabriel’s mop of curls.

  “Gabriel?” She still couldn’t bring herself to call him pastor. “Please wake up. Lord, don’t let him be hurt.”

  He groaned.

  “Thank God,” she sighed. “Are you all right?” She still didn’t want to touch him.

  He groaned again and rolled over. “Rotten dog. Fits his name.” He winked at her.

  She could have slapped him. “You’re not injured.”

  He sat up and dusted the bits of grass from his shirt. “Just winded. You had a good chuckle at my expense though.”

  “You have to admit it was humorous.”

  Slinky barked his agreement, and Gabriel grinned. “And I no doubt deserved it. This dog does have the better of us, I’d say.” His voice softened with every word, and Felicity became aware of how close they were, within inches.

  “Can you stand?” she whispered.

  He wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead he gazed deep into her eyes, clear to her soul. “Your eyes are the most unusual color, not quite emerald but darker than jade.”

  Ordinarily she disliked being reminded of her eyes, which didn’t match anyone else’s in the family, but Gabriel made their uniqueness sound special. “Some say it’s the green of water.”

  “Like a deep spot in the river.” He pulled a damp lock of hair from her cheek.

  She involuntarily trembled, and her cheek burned where his finger had brushed it.

  “Are you cold?” he breathed.

  “No.” It wasn’t cold; it was much worse. That horrible hot and cold tingling ran through her again, but it couldn’t be. She needed to marry Robert. She couldn’t be attracted to Gabriel. That would lead nowhere and ruin everything. She stood abruptly. “I need to go.”

  “Go?” He didn’t try to hold her. He let her back away, but his expression said it all. He liked her—a lot.

  His intensity terrified her. She looked around wildly. The picket fence enclosed the yard, trapping her, stifling her. “I—I need to go,” she repeated, even less sure of herself. If she stayed another moment, she’d never leave. “I’m sorry.”

  “Felicity.”

  She couldn’t look at him. The expression on his face would make her stay, and then what? She could have no future with him. She stumbled away, feet as unsure as her heart.

  “Felicity?” He was coming after her. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing.” She pushed at the air, trying to keep him back. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, unable to explain. She stumbled backward, just out of reach. She had to leave. She had to go now.

  Spotting the gate, she fled.

  Felicity kept to the park and out of the public eye as long as she could, but inevitably she had to walk past houses. The only way to avoid the streets was to follow the riverbank upstream, a route she hadn’t used since childhood, when she’d hide from her parents in a little cave near the river’s edge. But so many years had passed that the route no longer looked familiar. Neither could she navigate the treacherous ground in pumps. No, she had to walk through Kensington Estates, where everyone would see her damp and muddy dress.

  She hurried her step, hoping Mrs. Neidecker was at the Women’s Club and Mrs. Vanderloo had left to play tennis. Though it wasn’t much consolation, Sally and Eloise would be long gone. By now, they’d have captured Robert’s attention.

  “I hope they annoy him to death,” she muttered and promptly tripped over a tree root. Why didn’t this town install real sidewalks? Why didn’t they pave their roads? Pearlman was so backward.

 
; She kept to the shadowed side of Elm Street, somewhat hidden beneath the stately trees that had given the street its name. Tall hedges lined many of the yards, affording cover from prying eyes inside the estates. If no motorcars passed, she’d get home unscathed. She hurried along. There were only two more blocks to go. She’d slip in the servants’ entrance and run upstairs. She’d wash, change and hurry to the barn. With luck, she’d find Robert eager for intelligent conversation after a trying afternoon with Sally and Eloise.

  “Hey, sis, what happened to you?” Blake had driven his car up to her so quietly that she jumped at the sound of his voice.

  “Blake, what are you doing here? It’s not polite to sneak up on people.”

  He slowed the car to a crawl, keeping pace with her walking. “Want a ride? You look like you fell in the river.”

  She kept her focus dead ahead as she plodded up the hill. “I did not fall in the river, and I don’t need your help.”

  He laughed. “You and the reverend go swimming?”

  He’d seen her? Her cheeks heated. “Certainly not.”

  He laughed. “Loosen up, sis. You could use a good swim.”

  “I do not swim, especially not with the new minister.”

  Blake was grinning like an idiot, taking far too much pleasure in her discomfort. “Then why’d you run out of the parsonage’s backyard?”

  Oh, no. He had seen her, and if he’d seen her, others might have, too. By supper, it would be all over town. “Don’t tell anyone. Please?”

  His grin grew wider. “You and the reverend have a little romance going? Beattie says—”

  “I don’t care two pins what Beatrice says. She’s wrong. There’s absolutely nothing between us. Understand?

  Nothing.” She could not say that strongly enough. “Never ever in a hundred lifetimes.”

  He chuckled. “That bad, eh?”

  All those years of teasing rushed back: too skinny, too tall, didn’t look like a Kensington, must have been switched at birth. Every stupid taunt Blake had thrown at her during childhood returned. “Stop it. Just stop it.” She wasn’t going to cry. She bit her lip and stiffened her spine. A lady always maintains her composure. But a sniffle escaped.

  “I’m sorry, sis. Let me give you a ride home.” He stopped the car, leaned over and opened the passenger door.

  Felicity relented. She really didn’t want to walk past the Neidecker house looking like this. Besides, she could pester Blake about Robert. She slipped into the car and closed the door.

  “So what did happen?” Blake put the car in gear.

  Felicity should have known he wouldn’t give up. “A dog. Slinky, to be precise.”

  “Slinky got you all wet? That had better not be dog urine soaking into my seats.”

  “It’s not dog urine,” she snapped. “It’s wash water, if you must know.”

  Blake snorted, tried to stifle it when she glared at him, and then roared the minute she looked away. “You tried to bathe Slinky?”

  “Gabriel, uh, the pastor, is taking him in.”

  “Gabriel?” Blake’s tone intimated something more than dog washing had gone on.

  Well, she’d put an end to that kind of thinking. “Slinky needs a new home. Yours would do.”

  “That mutt?” Blake cast her a disparaging look. “If I get a dog, it’s going to be a hunting dog, purebred.”

  Figures. He was just like Daddy. She crossed her arms. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  “What’s the hurry? Anxious to have Mother yell at you?”

  “No.” She tossed her head and stared out the passenger window. Blake could be such a brother sometimes. He also couldn’t be trusted to keep a secret. If she told him she wanted to talk to Robert, he’d blab it to Beatrice and Jack Hunter and even Robert. Still, she needed to know where to find the man.

  “What’s going on this afternoon at the airfield?” she asked casually.

  He shrugged. “We called it a day, what with the dinner party tonight.”

  “Robert, too?”

  If Blake thought it odd she used Robert’s given name, he didn’t remark on it. “Of course. We’re all invited to the Hunters’.”

  That meant the talk would center on the airfield and flight school. At least Darcy and Jack Hunter wouldn’t try to match some girl with Robert…she hoped.

  “Did Sally and Eloise stop by?” she ventured, exposing her hand.

  Blake thankfully didn’t put two and two together. “Couldn’t say. We were out in the field.”

  Thank goodness. Felicity sighed with satisfaction. She’d have another chance tomorrow.

  “We’re here.” Blake pulled into the circular drive, stopping at the front door where Mother was sure to see her.

  “Couldn’t you have dropped me in back?” she huffed as she got out.

  Blake just grinned. “No way to sneak past old eagle eye.”

  She heaved a sigh and slammed the door shut. “I suppose you’re right.”

  With a tip of the finger to his cap, Blake said, “Pick you up tonight at seven.”

  “Tonight? Do you mean I’m invited, too?” she stammered, but he was already driving away.

  Oh, dear. If she was attending dinner at the Hunters’, she had a lot to do. She only had a few hours to wash off the doggy smell, dry her hair and put together the perfect outfit to attract a Newport man.

  And she had to pray that Robert hadn’t yet heard what had happened at the parsonage that afternoon.

  That evening, Gabriel couldn’t concentrate. The day had passed without a word from Kensington or any of the Church Council. He’d like to assume his position was secure, but there were still three days before Sunday. He could receive notice at any moment.

  He sat at the rolltop desk in the study and leafed through the Bible looking for the proper verse, but the words swam before his eyes. The meaning muddled in his mind. His sermon, full of fire that morning, stagnated.

  He couldn’t get Felicity out of his mind: her green eyes, her ebony hair, her tall and slender shape. He scrawled poetic lines in the margins of his sermon like an infatuated schoolboy.

  How ludicrous. She’d run away the moment he drew close. Her father had practically threatened him. Gabriel didn’t relish seeing what the man did with those nine guns. He pitied the poor buffalo, king of the African plain, taken down by a small bullet. Gabriel had witnessed his share of the cruel unfairness in this world. That was one reason he came to the ministry, and one reason he chose to pastor in a small town. Justice should prevail.

  But what justice is there in denying a child the companionship of a pet? He’d glimpsed Felicity’s painful longing when she talked about her brother’s dog. She must have had a lonely childhood. The age gap would have kept brother and sister from playing together. Add to that an emotionally distant mother, and it was natural she’d both yearn for affection and fear it wouldn’t last.

  He rubbed his face. “Gabe, you’re getting soft.”

  That’s what Dad would say. Mom would reach over and pat his father on the sleeve with a “now Edmund.” The scold would inevitably accompany a peck of affection. How Gabriel longed for such a partnership, so in step with each other that one look or word communicated everything. But he’d fallen for a woman who hid her feelings behind snobbery.

  Dad would know what to do. Though Edmund Meeks was nearly forty years older, Gabriel missed him. Those years had given him a wealth of wisdom not found in younger fathers. Dad had never been one to fuss about money or social standing or what people thought. He’d have found the Kensingtons absurd and shared a good laugh. He’d know exactly how to crack the shell around Felicity’s heart.

  Gabriel sighed. His entrance into the ministry was the only thing that had puzzled his father.

  “It’s a hard life, son,” Dad had said. “Lots of heartache and strife and disillusionment. Don’t think you can escape it. Every human flaw in greater society can be found in a church. In my opinion, you’d get more satisfaction working with Mr
. Isaacs and the orphans.”

  At the time, that seemed hard to believe. Gabriel had chafed with frustration over increasing regulation of orphan placement. The older children were hard to place, and many ran away to a life on the streets. More than once Mr. Isaacs had pulled a girl from prostitution or a boy from thieving only to lose them again to the same vices.

  If only Gabriel could find a place with hearts big enough to take in those children, a place like his parents’ home. At first he’d agreed with Dad that his place was with the orphans, but then he’d heard the call to minister in Pearlman.

  He couldn’t explain it; he just knew he had to go. He imagined the apostles James and John had faced similar disbelief when they told their father they were abandoning fishing to follow an itinerant preacher. Dad let him go, but Gabriel knew he worried for him.

  “I’ll be all right, Dad,” he whispered aloud.

  The quiet parsonage didn’t answer. Even Slinky yawned.

  Gabriel glanced down at the dog, which had settled patiently at his feet. “I don’t suppose you can help with my sermon?”

  Slinky lifted his head, pricked his ear and gave Gabriel an eager look.

  “All right. I suppose a walk will do us both good.”

  He shut the Bible, turned off the lamp and went to the kitchen, where he’d left the rope. He’d have to get a proper leash tomorrow. After getting Slinky ready, he headed out into the still though not silent night. Frogs trilled their mating calls in an escalating chorus. The river raced and splashed over rapids.

  Gabriel walked through the park, shadowy at late dusk. Someone giggled in the pavilion, so he skirted around it, hoping the female voice didn’t belong to Felicity. Horrible images of Blevins kissing her came to mind. He shook it off and headed downtown. Better to be amongst those going to the cinema or strolling the sidewalks, but Main Street didn’t prove any easier to take.

  A young couple held hands before a store window. Their attention was so devoted to each other that they didn’t notice him. With meaningful glances, they pointed out which furniture they’d buy after they married. How he wished he had someone to love, someone who looked to him with adoring eyes, someone who would discuss the mundane details of everyday life.