A Thousand Little Blessings

by Claire Sanders

  And there was always William Clark. His family had been friends with hers for many years, and his devotion to his mother proved what a good and loyal person he was. William never attended a social function without his mother. Mrs. Clark would probably even accompany them on their honeymoon.

  Etta stifled a laugh as she visualized her wedding photograph. She’d stand on one side of William and his mother would stand on the other.

  George must have mistaken her reaction for tears because he patted her hand and murmured, “There, there. It’s almost over, and I’m betting there will be a happy ending.”

  Etta turned her face away from his. How long until this evening was over? George had already mentioned a visit to the ice cream parlor after the picture. Then there’d be the ride home and the awkward goodnights.

  At last the on-screen sweethearts were reunited and the houselights came on.

  Nora exhaled noisily and dabbed her moist eyes. “Wasn’t that wonderful? Oh, Mr. Owens, I can’t thank you enough for this wonderful treat. I do so love the pictures. Wasn’t it a lovely, touching story, Etta?”

  Since she couldn’t have summarized the plot if her life depended on it, Etta evaded the question. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. The actress was beautiful.”

  “She can’t hold a candle to you,” George said with a wink, “nor to your cousin.”

  Nora reached across Etta and playfully slapped George’s forearm. “How you go on. Will you two please excuse me? I must visit the powder room.”

  George answered before Etta could voice her desire to accompany Nora. “You go right ahead. Henrietta and I will get the automobile and pick you up at the front entrance.”

  With a nod of agreement, Nora scurried up the aisle and disappeared into the noisy crowd.

  “Now then,” George said as he offered his hand to Etta, “are you ready for a cold, refreshing treat?”

  Etta laid her palm in his and stood but dropped his hand as she smoothed her skirt and tucked her handbag beneath her arm. “If you don’t mind, George, I think it would be best if Nora and I went home.”

  “Is your cousin unwell? Perhaps we could take her home, and then you and I could spend some time alone.”

  Etta tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then realized her trembling hands were giving away her uneasiness. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…well…”

  George slipped his arm through hers and led her up the aisle toward the exit. “Leave it to me, Henrietta. I know a thing or two about getting around chaperones.” He led her into the cool night air and helped her into the front seat of his sedan. When they arrived at the theater’s entrance, he sprang from his seat and hurried to open the rear door. As Nora approached, George smiled disarmingly. “Henrietta and I have a special favor to ask.”

  Nora’s gaze moved to Etta. “What’s on your mind?”

  Etta slid from her seat and moved toward her cousin. “I told George it would be best if he took us home now.”

  “But,” George interjected, “we thought perhaps you’d allow Henrietta to accompany me to the ice cream parlor alone.”

  Nora’s eyebrows raised in question, but the look she gave Etta made it clear she was waiting for Etta to speak up.

  Etta swallowed hard and turned toward George. “I’d like to thank you for taking Nora and me to the picture show. It was most kind of you. But now, I’d like to go home.”

  George narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure, Henrietta?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He continued to study her as though waiting for her to change her mind.

  Impatient drivers honked their horns and people waiting to buy tickets jostled both her and Nora. Wouldn’t it be easier if she just acquiesced to George’s wishes? Perhaps Austin’s Congress Avenue on Saturday evening wasn’t the time or place to make one’s stand.

  “Then home it is,” George answered.

  Etta let out a huge breath as she squeezed into the back seat with Nora.

  George resumed his seat behind the steering wheel.

  Nora nudged Etta in the ribs. “Round one, Henrietta Davis,” she whispered.

  Etta clutched her pocketbook tightly in her lap. Round one was only the beginning of the fight.

  Upon arrival at Nora’s house, George’s gentlemanly manners were still on display. He helped Nora and Etta alight from the car and escorted the ladies to the front door. “Thank you, again, Mr. Owens,” Nora said, shaking George’s hand.

  “The pleasure was all mine,” he replied.

  Nora looked pointedly at Etta. “Ten minutes,” she said in her most authoritative tone. “After that, my husband will be out to check on you.”

  “No need to worry,” George said. “Miss Davis will be as safe as a baby in her mother’s lap.”

  Etta’s jaws clenched as she imagined herself sitting in George’s lap. With one last meaningful glance over her shoulder, Nora entered her house.

  George withdrew a watch from his vest pocket. “Ten minutes, eh? Not much time to say goodnight.” He placed his hands on Etta’s arms. “Would you like to go for a drive in the country tomorrow afternoon?”

  “George, I…”

  “Yes, Henrietta? What is it?”

  “I…uh…” She took a fortifying breath. “George, I think it would be better if I…if we…”

  George chuckled softly and stepped closer. “My, oh my. I’m not sure what you’ve got on your mind, but it certainly is making you nervous. Don’t worry. Your nerves will go away after we’ve spent more time together.”

  “No. I…I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Don’t be silly, Henrietta. How else will you ever get to know me? Unless, of course, you think you know me well enough already. Is your father able to receive visitors yet? I can come to Burnet later this week.”

  “No. Oh, George. What I’m trying to say is—”

  “You’ll need to meet my family, of course. Mother will take to you right away. She’s been hinting that it’s time for me to settle down and give her some grandchildren.”

  One evening together and George was already planning a family?

  Etta had to put a stop to this before her reticence led straight to the altar.

  George removed his hat and brushed her cheek with his lips. “Goodnight, Henrietta. I’ll call on you tomorrow after church.”

  He opened the front door and waited for Etta to enter.

  If she went inside now, she’d have to admit her failure to Nora. Worse than that, she’d have to live with her inability to stand up for herself. Etta closed the door, took another deep breath, and faced George. “Your attentions are most flattering, Mr. Owens, but they are misdirected. I do not feel the same way about you as you feel about me.”

  George smiled at her as though he were dealing with a quarrelsome child. “Nonsense, Henrietta. You and I will make a powerful couple in the world of finance. Someday, you’ll inherit Davis Bank and Trust, and I’ll be at your side. I know your family’s bank is small now, but together we could make it one of the leading financial institutions in the state.” George had it all worked out. As the bank’s auditor, he knew everything about the bank’s assets.

  “I didn’t want to bring this up in front of your cousin,” George continued, “but I wanted to ask where the embezzlement case stands. You need someone to advise you, Henrietta. Since your father’s not able to look after your best interests, I’d be the best man for the job.”

  But ethics dictated that he recuse himself from the investigation. If Etta allowed him to wade deeper into the matter, she may find that she was the one in over her head.

  George placed two fingers under her chin and tipped her head up. “Besides, my dear, we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. As your husband, I’ll be able to control the bank’s day-to-day business as well as lead it into the twentieth century.” He stepped so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Women have no place in the world of high finance.”

  Indig
nation fused steel into Etta’s spine. She placed her palms on George’s chest and pushed him back a step. “No, George. No, no, no. I’m not interested in the future you just described, and I’m not interested in you. I don’t want to go for a ride in the country tomorrow afternoon, and I don’t want to meet your mother. Thank you for the evening out, but this is the end to anything other than our business relationship.” Etta opened Nora’s front door, stepped over the threshold, and turned back toward George.

  His mouth hung open in obvious astonishment.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Owens,” she said before closing the door.

  No sooner had the door clicked shut than Nora grabbed Etta around the waist and pulled her toward the parlor. “Oh my goodness! I could hardly believe my ears. You told him!”

  Etta covered her mouth with her hand. “I was unforgivably rude, wasn’t I?”

  “Are you joking? If you ask me, George Owens needed a swift kick in the pants!”

  “You don’t think I injured his pride?”

  “What if you did? Isn’t it obvious that George is more interested in the bank than in you?”

  Etta rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t realize that before tonight.”

  “Uh-huh. He showed his cards too early, but thank goodness, he did. No wonder he made your skin crawl. I think your guardian angel was trying to warn you.”

  Etta’s hands trembled as she removed her hat and set it and her handbag on the divan. “I suppose my guardian angel can take a break now. Surely George got the message.”

  Nora slipped her arm through Etta’s and escorted her upstairs. “Western Union couldn’t have been clearer.”

  11

  Ethan Benson opened the screen door at the back of his house and called, “Sara! Come and see what I found in town.”

  Sara didn’t move from the kitchen counter. “I’m elbow-deep in flour. What is it?”

  “It’s not a what, it’s a who.”

  Sara turned her head and let out a squeal of delight. “Gabriel!” She held out her arms, and Gabriel stepped into her embrace. “’Bout time you came back!”

  Gabriel buried his nose in her hair. “You smell like cinnamon.”

  “I’m making apple crumble for tonight’s prayer meeting.”

  “Do I have to wait until tonight to get a bite?”

  Sara laid her hands alongside her son’s face. “Of course not. I just finished baking an extra one for us. Now sit down and visit while I get this one in the oven.”

  “Don’t forget about me,” his father said. “Gabriel’s not the only one around here who appreciates your cooking.”

  Sara kissed her husband’s cheek. “Nothing I like better than having my two men at the kitchen table. The Nielsen boy brought fresh milk this morning. Will you pour us a glass?”

  “Now you’re talking,” Gabriel’s father said, moving toward the ice box.

  After sliding the dish into the gas oven, Sara cleaned her hands and touched Gabriel’s chin. “I got some flour on you. Hold still while I clean you off.”

  While she brushed his bristled cheeks with a dish towel, Gabriel looked into her kind eyes. His heart shuddered at the realization that he’d someday lose her just as Etta had lost her mother. Like everything in his life, he’d taken his mother’s steadfast presence for granted.

  Sara pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “How are you, son?”

  “Fine, Mom. I’m awfully tired of trains, but other than that…catch me up on what’s been happening around here.”

  Sara narrowed her eyes and studied him. “Sounds to me like maybe you’ve found a cure for your itchy feet. Think you’ll stay home for a while?”

  Gabriel’s desire for adventure had led to disaster. Besides, everyone he cared for was less than a mile away from his mother’s kitchen table. “No more itchy feet, Mom. If I can find a job, I’ll be thankful to stay right here for the rest of my life.”

  “You ought to check out the new highway department in Austin,” His father said. “I read in the paper they’re handing out contracts left and right for updated roads and bridges and tunnels and who knows what else. Seems to me they could use a few engineers.”

  “You’re the first person in the family to get a college education,” Sara said with an affectionate squeeze to his shoulder. “It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

  Gabriel joined his father at the kitchen table. “Think the Highway Department would hire someone with no experience?”

  His father poured cool milk into a tall glass and passed it to him. “You’re a veteran. Your Army experience plus your degree should count for something.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Gabriel stretched out his long legs and leaned back in the chair. “I want to check on Mr. Davis’s horses and take care of a few more things around here. Then I’ll go to Austin and see what’s what. How’s Etta’s father doing?”

  Sara placed three bowls of the apple treat on the table and sat across from Gabriel. “Henry’s made remarkable progress. I went by the house yesterday to deliver eggs, and there he was, sitting in the courtyard as though nothing had ever happened.”

  “But he still can’t talk,” Gabriel’s father said. “Whenever he tries, it just sounds like gibberish.”

  From what Gabriel had seen in the aid stations and hospital in France, Henry Davis was one of the lucky ones. “Is Etta still working at the bank?”

  “Sure,” his mother said. “Despite what some people say, there’s no one better for the job than she.”

  Had Etta’s problems at the bank worsened in the time he’d been gone? “What does that mean? What are people saying?”

  “Do you remember her uncle?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “Etta told me Carl is trying to convince the Board of Directors to name him as the bank president.”

  The dessert Gabriel had been enjoying suddenly felt like a lump of clay in his throat. “He’d push Etta out?”

  “In a second.” Sara snapped her fingers to emphasize the point. “I’ve been saying some mighty fervent prayers for Etta lately. She’s got quite a fight on her hands.”

  Etta was probably overwhelmed by all she had to deal with. “I think I’ll go over to the Davis place after I shave and get cleaned up.”

  “That’s a good idea,” his mother said, “but Etta went to Austin to visit her cousin. I’m not sure when she’s due back.”

  Gabriel carried his empty bowl and spoon to the sink. If he went to the Davis house on the pretext of checking on the Arabians, he might be able to find out when Etta would return. Every cell in his body yearned to be with her. Without Etta by his side, he felt like a ghost ship, floating without direction from one vague compass point to another.

  ****

  Etta did her best to avoid the numerous holes on the two-lane road from Austin to Burnet. She enjoyed driving her father’s car and was glad her mother had insisted she learn, although a woman driving alone was frowned upon by polite society. There was talk about requiring motorists to receive some type of mandatory license as they had in other states, but the general consensus in Texas was that there was still more open space than drivers.

  Spring had arrived in all its bounty. The fields burgeoned with pink evening primrose and orange Indian paintbrush. And the bluebonnets, of course. Like a child counting the days until Christmas, her mother had eagerly watched for the bluebonnets each spring.

  “More beautiful than Solomon is all his glory,” her mother had often remarked. Etta smiled at the memory. Every day brought some new reminder of her mother, but the sharp pain of loss had eased. She’d been blessed with a loving mother, and staggering under the weight of grief would dishonor that love. Her mother had raised her to be both strong and tender. Etta could do that. She could find the strength to discover who was embezzling funds from the bank.

  She still held a slim hope that Carl wasn’t stealing from the bank, but if the evidence pointed to him, she’d follow through.

  Catheri
ne Davis would have been ashamed to know her brother had committed such an insidious crime, but even she would have done whatever was necessary to stop him.

  Starting tomorrow, Etta would drive out to the farms and ranches of clients whose accounts showed a discrepancy. If she spoke with candor and assured the borrowers that their loans were not in arrears, perhaps they could tell her who had intercepted their payments.

  Just a few months ago, Etta would never have undertaken such an investigation. She would have gladly waited on the sidelines while her father or William Clark looked into the problem. But now it was up to her to take care of business. She hadn’t let George Owens coerce her into marriage, and she wouldn’t let anyone exploit her inexperience.

  Now that George understood Etta wasn’t interested in marriage, or in letting him take over the bank, the question of William Clark loomed on the horizon. William was pleasant looking, an upright citizen, and well-employed. There’d been some talk during previous board meetings about William running for political office in the future, and he’d undoubtedly be good in that type of work. But did Etta really want to marry William? Did she want to have a family with him?

  Etta shook her head as her heart told her the answer. If she’d never known Gabriel, she probably would have accepted William’s proposal with gratitude. But she’d come to care for Gabriel in a way that surpassed mere friendship.

  Etta had tried in vain to curb dreams of Gabriel’s lips on hers and of his arms pulling her tightly against him. How impractical love was. William had made his intentions clear, but Etta couldn’t pledge herself to him. Gabriel, on the other hand, hadn’t made any promises, but she was ready to abandon caution and follow him into the future.

  But if she didn’t accept William’s offer and Gabriel didn’t return her affection, would she be sentencing herself to spinsterhood? There were worse things. Very few married women worked. Even Carolina Swanson, who was very good at her job and one of their most reliable employees, had looked for work only after becoming a widow.