by Dawn Kinzer
Calm down. He might not even be here.
She pulled the door open and slipped inside. The small narthex was dark compared to the bright, sunlit skies. But as Rebecca stepped into the sanctuary, the sun’s rays shining through the colored glass windows bathed her in a warm rainbow. She slid into a back pew.
Peter was there—just like she’d hoped. He stood at the pulpit, focused on his notes, not aware she sat observing him as he made an elaborate gesture. He looked more dashing than ever in his dark gray suit. Even sitting a distance from him, her heart palpitated as though she’d run a long race.
It had been worth the long wait, because now she’d get what she’d always wanted. It was as if she’d prepared her whole life for his return—the education, the music lessons—all her hard work had brought her to this moment. It wasn’t that she’d wished or prayed for his wife’s demise, but somehow Rebecca knew that one way or the other, Peter would someday be hers.
He’d held a special place in her heart since they were children, but no matter what she did to get his attention, Sarah had ruined it. She’d always stood in Rebecca’s way. Sarah—with her tomboy manners. Whenever Peter had time away from the farm, she’d run off with him into the woods to look for squirrels or down to the river to fish. If her mother hadn’t forbidden her to do anything that wasn’t considered ladylike, Rebecca could have been more adventurous. She would have done anything to spend time with him.
It wasn’t as if she’d never had suitors. Plenty of young men had approached her, but she refused to marry a smelly farmer, which left few men in their small community to choose from, and none stirred the kind of feelings she had for Peter. Believing he was out of reach, Rebecca had been close to settling down—once. But unlike other girls who came of age, she never experienced a monthly, and since her fiancé couldn’t accept her inability to bear children, he’d broken the engagement.
The thing she wanted most—a child of her own—she could never have. Her parents knew her plight, but feeling less of a woman, Rebecca had otherwise kept the heartache a secret. Teaching had become a way to help fill the void, and she poured herself into her students.
She’d never dreamed her prayers would be answered in such a glorious way. Peter was educated, he’d married into society, and he’d become accustomed to refined ways. Someone with a good background who could match him in conversation would suit him. She understood children, and his daughter needed a mother. Rebecca could serve at his side as a proper minister’s wife.
It was all for a purpose. Surely God knew Rebecca was the right choice, and that’s why he’d brought Peter back. Everything would work out. They were perfect for each other. She would do whatever it took—nothing and no one would stand in her way this time.
***
Peter sensed someone else in the room. He looked up from his notes and peered at the back pews in the room. “Can I help you?”
A woman with blonde hair and fair skin stood. He gripped the sides of the pulpit. Lily? No—this was no ghost.
“Peter, it’s Rebecca Hoyt.”
It must be warmer in the church than he’d realized—her cheeks were flushed. He extended his hand to his former classmate. “Rebecca, it’s good to see you. Ellie mentioned you’d moved back several years ago. You’re a teacher, right?”
She nodded. “I have twenty-eight students through the eighth grade and four in high school.”
“You were always good at academics.” Rebecca had also excelled at making Sarah’s life miserable, picking on her because of what her parents had done. Hopefully, the teacher wasn’t as devious now as she was then. “You’re still a member of the church?”
“I am.” Rebecca’s face grew even rosier. “I play the piano for Sunday morning services. I also accompany the choir.”
“Wonderful.”
Rebecca stepped closer and offered a coy smile. “I was hoping that we could talk about the music for this Sunday. Reverend Olson and I always picked out the hymns together.”
Lily had used a similar smile to get her way. Better keep his guard up. “I’m sure you were a great help to Reverend Olson—”
“I thought if you’d share your sermon topic, I could assist you in choosing songs with lyrics that would be appropriate for the message. I could even serve as a first listener if you’d like to practice.”
“I appreciate the offer.” There was no way he was going to share his sermons with her ahead of preaching on Sunday morning.
A door banged shut, drawing Peter and Rebecca’s attention to the back of the church.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a racket.”
“Mr. Carter.” Peter hadn’t seen his old friend and mentor for years. He rushed down the aisle to greet and shake the older man’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”
The town’s famous businessman, in his early forties, sported a mustache and a good-looking suit. He clutched his fedora in one hand and shook Peter’s hand with the other. “Likewise, Peter.”
Mr. Carter turned his attention to Rebecca. “I’m sorry if I barged in on your discussion, Miss Hoyt. I should have made an appointment.”
“It’s fine, Mr. Carter.” Rebecca clutched the hymnal close to her with both hands, her handbag hanging from one wrist. “I was just explaining to Peter that I’ll be playing the piano for church services.”
“Oh, and she’s a mighty fine player, Peter. I’ve heard her accompany the school children during their programs. You’re a lucky man to have her in your church.”
Rebecca gave a slight bow, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “Thank you, Mr. Carter.”
“You’re welcome. And by the looks of all the babies being born in the area, you’re going to have children to teach for many years. After having three boys, Julia Miller delivered a little girl. I just delivered gifts to the family. Alice wanted to go herself, but she’s hosting one of her Ladies Aid Society meetings at the house this afternoon.” He leaned against the corner of a pew. “Thought on my way back to the store I’d stop in for a few minutes.”
“You’re welcome any time, Mr. Carter.”
“I should be going.” The teacher brushed her skirt.
“Rebecca, thank you for assisting with the music.” Maybe Peter had been too hasty in judging the young woman’s intentions. He could use some help, and he didn’t want to cause hurt feelings before he’d even started. “Please make a list of the congregation’s favorite hymns and meet me here at ten o’clock on Saturday morning. We’ll choose songs from your list for this weekend’s service.”
The young woman’s face lit up with an explosive smile. “I’ll be here at ten. Good-bye, Mr. Carter. I’m sure I’ll see you at the Memorial Day celebration tomorrow.” She glided down the aisle toward the door.
“Sit down. Please.” Peter gestured toward the front pew, and his friend eased himself onto the hard, wooden surface. “I’ve been eager to talk to you.”
“Eager, eh?”
“I’ve missed our talks. All those times you took me
fishing…”
Mr. Carter chuckled. “As I remember, you were full of questions about bait, girls, and God. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Next to my father, you’ve been the most influential person in my life.” Peter had been a mischievous young boy, but Mr. Carter had still taken a liking to him. “And it all started when I was ten and stole a pocket knife from the store where you worked.”
“My catching you in the act may have saved you from a life of crime.” Mr. Carter’s eyes twinkled as he smoothed his mustache.
“I hated cleaning out the barn for a week as punishment, but the talk you gave me on a man’s integrity has always stuck with me. I never wanted to let you or my father down again.”
“Your parents would be very proud of you.”
“I hope so. You know how disappointed they were at first when I told them I wouldn’t be taking over the family farm, but Ellie and Thomas have been happy there. I’m glad my parents saw
that take place before they died.”
“What has it been? Ten years since you’ve been home?” The man’s eyes remained kind, but the words challenged Peter. “Minneapolis is so far away that you couldn’t make one trip back in all that time?”
“I deserve your reprimand.” Peter sat silent for a moment. “My wife was used to living in the city and a certain style of living. I couldn’t sway her from convictions that visiting my family’s farm meant she’d have to sleep near cows and pigs and that a rooster would wake her before the crack of dawn.”
How could Peter tell a man he so highly respected that Lily had found one of Sarah’s letters? He’d been a fool to keep it, but it held words of encouragement, the kind he no longer received after wedding vows were taken. It was a reminder of who he’d been and who he hoped to be again. Lily had accused him of having feelings for Sarah, and though he denied any strong affection toward his childhood friend, Peter was later struck to the core that he’d been lying to himself all along, and that reality added more guilt to the burden he couldn’t lay down.
“And the Sherlock Hotel wasn’t an option?”
“No.” There was no way Lily would step foot in the same town as Sarah, and any mention of him going alone or with Mary only brought harsh words and threats.
Mr. Carter shifted position on the pew. “I have no right to come down hard on you. It’s just that a lot of people missed having you around—I missed you. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped boundaries.”
“You haven’t. You were one of the few people I trusted when I needed to talk about going into the ministry.” Peter plowed fingers through his hair. “Someday I’ll tell you more about my life in Minneapolis.”
“I understand.” Mr. Carter’s demeanor lightened. “Too bad I’m a Methodist. I might have to sneak in on a Sunday morning to hear you preach. Reverend Kline is a good man, but I also like to hear someone who is fresh and energized. Too many young pastors don’t want to come to smaller communities. They want bigger churches. Plenty of souls to save in small towns too.”
George Carter was a pillar in the community. He was also a man of great faith and an active member in his own church. To have this Christian man sneak into Peter’s church to hear him share God’s word would not only be intimidating, but an honor as well.
“Tell me about the store.” Peter was eager to see it for himself. “I’ve been so busy getting settled, I haven’t had a chance to step inside. According to Ellie, it’s been named the most beautiful store for housewares and farm goods in America.”
“It’s proof that God honors men’s dreams and faithfulness, Peter.” The older man’s face lit up. “But it’s more than just the building. It’s a way of doing business.”
“My sister has complimented the customer service.”
“To serve the customer is the philosophy and foundation of everything we do. And as a store owner, I take my role as the expert marketer for the community seriously.” Mr. Carter was not only a business man, he was a genius. “Join Alice and me for supper this evening. She’d love to see you, and we’re looking forward to meeting your daughter. I’m sure she and my girls would enjoy each other’s company.”
chapter seven
The store reminds me of a Spanish mansion. Is the inside as impressive?” Peter gazed in awe at the brick and sandstone structure that sat on four acres near the center of town.
“I hope so.” Mr. Carter chuckled. “At least it’s clean—unlike the old company store built when the lumber company was here. Farmers and small-town folk should never have to accept buying their goods in dirty stores with fly-specked window panes and littered floors.”
The two men strode up the arbor-lined drive. They marched up the steps, through the arched openings, and across the porch. Mr. Carter held the door open for Peter.
The sun followed a pathway through the large arched windows built into the store’s walls, filling the spacious area with natural light. Pillars were paneled with mirrors, which reflected and amplified the radiant effect. Built-in window seats gave customers and employees a place to rest.
“This is remarkable.” Peter wanted to take everything in, but knowing Sarah might be there distracted him.
“Thank you.” Mr. Carter’s stance as his attention moved around the room relayed pride in his accomplishment. “Instead of our townspeople and surrounding farmers having to go far to get what they need, we have others traveling to our community. To accommodate them, we put in plumbing and gave them hot and cold running water.”
“Remarkable.” Peter glanced around the area.
Mr. Carter removed his hat and stroked his mustache. “The men have their own room where they can smoke and talk about their crops or whatever men like to jaw about.” He pointed toward the rear of the store. “Farmers can use the stable out back for their teams while taking care of business. And we carry the complete McCormick line. Harvesting, haying, and corn machines. Twine, farm wagons—whatever a farmer needs.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Carter.” A female clerk with bright red hair approached the two men. “A customer would like to see you.”
“Thanks, Annie.” Mr. Carter faced Peter. “Excuse me one moment.”
Annie Banks. Peter thought she looked familiar. He glanced around the well-stocked store. An unkempt farmer came into the building. He spat chewing tobacco on the spotless birch floor, then seeming to realize what he’d just done, dropped to his knees and cleaned up the mess with a handkerchief pulled from a pocket. Peter had never seen anything like it—a man wiping up his spittle.
Mr. Carter returned with papers in hand. “I’m sorry. This is going to take longer than I’d hoped, but please take your time and look around.” He held out his hand. “See you tomorrow at the celebration?”
Peter accepted the handshake. “I wouldn’t miss Memorial Day.”
Laughter that sang across the room couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Sarah. A stocked shelf and a number of customers protected Peter from being seen as she descended from the balcony. Ellie had told him about the furniture and rug department on the store’s upper level. Sarah led a very pregnant woman down the steps. A man carrying a rocking chair followed, most likely her husband by the way the woman smiled at him.
Sarah moved behind a counter, but Peter had a clear view through an open space on the shelf that stood between them. He’d wait until the couple left, then approach her if she wasn’t busy with another customer. In the meantime, he’d feign interest in cabinet hardware.
The man set the rocking chair to the side and pulled out a wallet.
“I’ve heard Mr. Carter put in a pretty room just for women,” the expectant mother said.
“On the second story.” Sarah gave a warm smile. “You’re welcome to use the room any time you’re here shopping. We filled the space with couches, rocking chairs, and tables, as well as swings and cribs for the young ones.”
The couple paid for their purchase and left.
Time to make his move. There’d been no mention of Sarah and her grandmother spending the day with Ellie’s family at the Memorial Day celebration. But it was tradition with their two families, or at least it had been before he left, and her response to his invitation would confirm it.
A man—probably another employee— joined Sarah behind the counter, and she laughed at something he said. Ellie hadn’t mentioned anything about someone courting Sarah. Was she interested in this man? No, laughing at the man’s jokes didn’t mean anything.
This was childish—a grown man hiding behind a shelf. Sarah had acted a little cool toward Peter the other day. But like Ellie had reminded him, things had changed over the years since he’d been home. If he was brave enough to lead a whole congregation, he certainly could talk to someone who had known him better than anyone.
“Are you okay, mister?” A boy about six years old peered up at Peter. The red-headed youngster with freckles swiped a runny nose with his sleeve.
Peter took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just g
etting ready to slay a dragon.”
“A dragon?” The child scrunched his nose. “There ain’t no dragons.”
“I’m afraid there is, and this one I created myself.”
***
William positioned the ladder next to the shelves behind the counter. “You know, I could climb up, and you could hand me these dishes.”
“Yes, but that’s not going to happen.” Sarah raised her chin in defiance. “You’ll just plop the plates and cups any old way. The display needs to catch customers’ attention, so it requires a woman’s touch. And although you are many things, you aren’t a woman.” She climbed high enough that she could reach the top shelf without stretching.
“I have to admit, I’m glad you’ve noticed my manly attributes.” He smiled up at her. “I guess that’s worth humbling myself.”
“The Bible says God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble, Mr. Reed. I’m doing you a favor, so you should be thanking me. Don’t you think?” Bantering with William was challenging—fun—like how it had once been with Peter.
“I guess that’s one way to look at it.” He made an elaborate gesture, then bowed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Sarah handed him a bowl they were replacing with a new pattern, then dusted off the top shelf. “We’ll be closed tomorrow for the holiday, but if we stock this area with new inventory now, I can finish the lower shelves on Monday morning.”
A few minutes later, she started to make her way down the ladder.
“Sarah, when we were talking yesterday, there was one more question I wanted to ask.”
Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Sarah smoothed out her skirt. “Yes, William?”
“Would you like to accompany me to the Memorial Day picnic?” He offered one of his engaging smiles. “Of course, your grandmother would be welcome to join us.”
