by Dawn Kinzer
He wouldn’t repeat with Sarah the very thing that had destroyed the last fragment of hope for a happy marriage with Lily. Peter had done everything he could—everything she wanted—to provide all that his wife needed. As long as he complied with her wishes, she remained loving and content. But when he could no longer deny his own heart and desire to go into ministry, she turned cold, angry, and disrespectful. Lily refused to even consider being a minister’s wife.
Peter couldn’t ask Sarah to give up Africa. He couldn’t be that selfish, no matter how much he wanted her to stay in Riverton.
chapteR FOURTEEN
Almost time to visit the post office. Each day that passed without a response from the mission society made Sarah even more anxious. Her stomach fluttered every morning with anticipation as she waited to see if her long-awaited letter would arrive.
Until she could take her break and slip out the door, she’d attend to customers and try to keep her mind off worrying that the letter had gotten lost and she’d already missed the orientation for missionaries being assigned.
Mrs. Jorgenson stood perusing the garden and flower seed display. She plucked one packet of seeds, stared at it, and then with drooping shoulders, replaced it. The sweet-tempered woman repeated the gestures several times, appearing more defeated with each choice.
“Good morning, Mrs. Jorgenson.” Sarah joined her at the display and refrained from touching the woman’s skin to see if it felt as velvety as it appeared. “How is your day going?”
“Quite nicely.” Mrs. Jorgenson offered a warm smile. “Thank you for asking, Sarah.”
“If you’re having trouble deciding what seeds to purchase, maybe I could help.” Mrs. Jorgenson’s flower gardens had been stunning for years, but the past few summers the number of blooms had dwindled. Maybe the older woman planned to get the gardens back in shape again.
“Oh, my goodness, thank you, but no.” The kind woman dabbed her eyes with a white handkerchief. “Forgive a sentimental old woman. I’m afraid my broken-down body won’t allow me to do all that bending and digging anymore. But here it is, the first week of June, and I’m still looking at seeds. Out of habit, I guess. I had my gardens for so many years, you know, and I miss the flowers. They do brighten a person’s day, don’t they?”
Sarah should have known the only way those gardens had become so neglected was because Mrs. Jorgenson could no longer manage the physical work necessary to keep them looking nice. And with her husband gone and her children scattered across the country, she had no one to help her.
“I have an idea.” Sarah put her hand on the frail woman’s shoulder. “We’ll do it together. You tell me what and where to plant.”
“Oh, I can’t let you do that.” Mrs. Jorgenson’s lips protested, but her eyes and voice sparkled with hope. “You have a job here, and you have so much to keep you busy at the church and at home with your grandmother.”
“Trust me, I’d enjoy doing it.” Surely helping this lovely woman would please God. “You have such a gift for gardening, you could teach me. It would be like taking a class on horticulture, so I’d be getting even more out of it than you. And I promise to visit as often as I can and tend to the weeding.”
“Oh, you are a dear.” Mrs. Jorgenson’s soft, wrinkled face lit up.
“Hmmm...I have several other ideas.” Sarah could do even better than seeds. “Our back porch receives the afternoon sun, so Gram and I start new plants out there. We’d be glad to share some marigolds and geraniums, and we always have more tomatoes than we can use—even with canning. Would you like a plant or two? We could find a nice sunny spot, and you could pick them at your leisure.”
Mrs. Jorgenson clasped her hands together. “That would be wonderful. I haven’t had any tomatoes of my own for several years.” She reached over and grasped Sarah’s arm. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I’m—I’m overwhelmed.”
“It won’t take long, and I’m happy to do it. I’ll start this evening after supper.”
“Thank you, dear. I’ll look forward to it.”
Sarah would too. There’d been many times when she wished her grandmother would be more like Mrs. Jorgenson—kind and appreciative, instead of so critical and negative. Sarah glanced at the large clock on the wall. “It’s time for my lunch break, but you take whatever time you need to pick out seeds, and I’ll see you this evening.”
If she hurried, Sarah could return from the post office and still have time to sit outside and have a few minutes to herself. She caught Annie’s eye. “I’ll be back shortly.” Annie nodded and waved her off. Sarah grabbed her beaded handbag, strolled out the front door, and down the driveway.
“Sarah!”
She whirled around to see William sprinting down the steps after her. A gust of wind swept through, and his bowler flew off his head. Watching him retrieve his hat tickled Sarah’s insides. “Don’t worry. I’m not running away.”
“Thanks for waiting.” He caught up to her. “Since you routinely make a trip to the post office, I thought I’d accompany you—pick up the store’s mail.”
“Doesn’t Stella usually do that?”
“I offered to take care of it today.”
“How nice of you. Relieving her of the one opportunity she may have all day to get outside where she could enjoy some fresh air and sunshine. Very considerate.”
William gave a triumphant smile. “As a matter of fact, I showed considerable thoughtfulness. I told Stella that since I would be taking care of her errand, she could use these few minutes to relax and read the book she’s been toting back and forth to work all week. And if she chooses to spend that time outside, she’s free to do so.”
“I see.” Sarah tried to feign seriousness, but failed miserably. “Then I must take back my words, for you are a most generous manager.”
“You are a prime example of generosity, Miss McCall.” William matched Sarah’s relaxed pace. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but while checking inventory I happened to hear your conversation with Mrs. Jorgenson. I watched life breathed back into a sad, lonely lady.” He danced several steps. “Why, she may have actually skipped all the way home.”
The image of Mrs. Jorgenson skipping down the street with an armload of seed packets brought more delight than what Sarah could contain. “Oh, my.” She wiped the corner of her eye. “I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks.”
They reached the post office and William opened the door, then stepped aside. Sarah entered and waited for her eyes to adjust to the change in light. Three people stood in line ahead of them.
When they finished, Sarah approached the postmaster. “Do you have anything for either Gram or me today, Mr. Harmon?”
“I don’t think so, but let me check.”
Don’t get your hopes up, Sarah.
Mr. Harmon disappeared for a moment, the returned. “No, nothing today, Sarah.”
Her hear plummeted. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Thank you.” Why was it taking so long for a simple letter to reach her? One envelope with news that would change her life—that’s all.
Mr. Harmon cocked his head. “You waitin’ on something important?”
“No, nothing important.” She stepped away so William could take her place, and then moved outside where the sun’s rays almost blinded her. She should have worn her hat.
William soon arrived back at her side, laden with packages, pretending to struggle with his burden. “I should have hitched up a horse and driven a wagon over here.” His silly antics brightened her mood.
“Let me help you.” She grasped a handful of envelopes.
“See, there you go again—helping people.”
“Are you complaining? You can have these back.” She held the stack of mail out to him.
“I’m not protesting—just observing.”
“All right, then. We’d better make haste or I won’t have time to eat my ham sandwich.” Sarah increased her speed.
“W
hoa, slow down. We’re not trying to win the Kentucky Derby. Your boss will understand if you’re a few minutes late.”
Sarah slowed to a more leisurely pace. “Well, if he doesn’t, I expect you to put in a good word for me.”
They strolled toward the store. William cleared his throat. “I had a personal reason for picking up the mail today.”
“Oh?”
He stopped and waited for Sarah to follow suit. “There’s a dance in town a week from this Saturday night at Wing’s Opera House.”
“Yes...”
“Would you accompany me?” He shifted the weight in his arms.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, William.” Why couldn’t they have kept their conversation light and impersonal? “I don’t want to disappoint you, but my life has become so much more complicated these past weeks.”
“Complicated or not, I still think it’s a great idea.” He flashed one of his charming smiles that surely melted other young women in town. “I enjoy your company, and I thought you might feel the same about mine.”
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“It may not be right for us to spend time together at social events because you’re a manager and I’m a clerk in the same store. You are my boss. Other employees might start to feel that you treat me special, and that could cause problems for both of us. So, I think it might be best to keep things on a professional level—if not best—simpler.”
“I see.” He stroked his chin as in deep thought. “No,” he said, with rich confidence filling his voice. “No problem.”
“How can you say that?”
“Sarah, Mr. Carter is the owner of the store and your boss. I may be the manager, but I’m still an employee. You and I attended the Memorial Day picnic together and no one thought it strange or inappropriate.”
“It was a large event. A dance is much more...personal.”
“If I promise that we’ll go as friends, and if I insist that we both spend time dancing with other people, will you go with me?”
Peter would attend because he enjoyed dancing, and as a new pastor, he wouldn’t want to miss an important community party. But he also wouldn’t invite her to go with him. People would make assumptions, and Peter didn’t care about her that way. It would be easier seeing him there with other women paying him attention—like Rebecca— if Sarah didn’t have to go alone.
“You’ll expect nothing more from me than a few dances?”
“That’s right.”
“Yes, William. I’ll go with you.”
chapteR FIFTEEN
The sun had not yet gone to rest, and the pleasant, warm June evening welcomed people as they stepped outside of their homes. Since friends had taken Gram in their buggy to the dance, Sarah and William walked the short distance to Wing’s Opera House. A light breeze caught the sweet rose fragrance from flowers growing in a neighbor’s yard. Several couples strolling in the same direction, but on the opposite side of the street, waved hello. One woman cocked her head, as if taking them in, and then spoke to her husband.
“We’ve piqued someone’s interest.” Sarah gave a brief nod toward the couple. “Don’t be surprised if it’s all over town by morning that we’re an item.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” William’s shoulder brushed against Sarah’s.
Sarah moved away, but still gave a small smile. “Not if it were true. Since that’s not the case, let’s remember tonight’s rules.”
“We’re attending as friends.”
“So don’t forget to mingle and dance with other people.”
He saluted, then winked. “Since we’re such great friends, would you mind calling me Will? That’s what my friends back in Milwaukee call me.”
“I’ll try. It does suit you.” Why did Will have to be so charming? It would be easier to refuse him if he were a cad. Sarah didn’t want to give anyone at the dance the wrong impression, but she also didn’t want to go alone. Besides, she enjoyed his company.
What would Peter think when he saw her with Will? Would he even care? When they were youths, they’d attended social events and danced for hours. Peter, awkward at that age, had given her toes a beating, but she hadn’t minded. Sarah, leave the past behind.
Strains of a waltz filtered from the opera house, but as they approached the door, the music changed to a little more uplifting tune.
Like a beautiful barn swallow in flight, Sarah’s spirit swooped and then soared as she strolled into the dance dressed in lavender instead of the plain, white shirtwaists worn to work. A curving design, embroidered in white on both sides, and white lace trimming the white taffeta yoke, made the silk shirtwaist fashionable. Will had said she looked pretty in lavender. Would Peter think the same?
Dancers doing the two-step brought the full room to life. A small band sat on the stage. The grocery store owner pounded on an upright piano, a farmer strummed his guitar, one of Mr. Carter’s employees tapped on drums, and a recent hire at the livery played a trumpet. They didn’t sound bad—actually, they were pretty good.
Sarah scanned the room. No sign of Peter. Surely he wouldn’t miss the gathering. Yet, it might be easier if he didn’t show. Dancing with him would bring another glimpse at what could have been—a life shared together. If he didn’t ask to join him on the floor, she’d be hurt and disappointed, and to watch him with another woman...Oh, my. She didn’t stand a chance of getting through the evening unscathed.
Sarah caught Ellie’s attention and waved as she and Thomas headed toward the refreshment table. Sarah nodded toward the couple. “Would you mind if we said hello?”
“Not at all.” Will gave a sly grin. “Just remember, I’m determined to get you out on the floor.”
“Be careful of what you wish for, William Reed. You may have to carry me off in order to make me stop.”
“I’ll take on that challenge.”
With a gentle hold of her arm, he led Sarah to the table where bowls of lemonade and red punch sat next to trays laden with gingersnaps and shortbread, oatmeal, and lemon cookies. Ellie and Thomas had just filled their glasses.
“Hi, Sarah. Will. Care for something to drink?” Ellie still swayed to the music, even as she sipped from her glass.
“The lemonade is good and cold.” Thomas refilled his glass. “Mr. Carter had someone bring ice over from his ice house.”
“No, thank you. Maybe later.” Sarah hadn’t worked up a thirst yet. William seemed in agreement.
The blue sateen shirtwaist that Ellie wore matched her eye color. After three children, she still kept a small waist, even without the help of a corset. With rosy cheeks and bright eyes, she looked striking. Her husband must have noticed, too, because his gaze barely left her.
The band switched to a song with a livelier tempo. “They’re playing that new ragtime tune.” Sarah couldn’t remember the title.
“‘The Entertainer.’” William danced a few steps to the music. “Do you know how to dance the cakewalk, Miss McCall?”
“All that strutting intimidates me.”
“I’m a good teacher, and we can take it easy.”
Sarah took a deep breath and draped her beaded handbag over her wrist. “You may regret this.” She accepted his hand.
Will showed her a few steps, and she tried to emulate them the best she could. Another couple watched and attempted to follow. Reservation tossed aside, Sarah’s laughter bubbled up and spilled over.
The song finished, and she gained her composure. “My goodness, that was fun!”
A waltz started and Will held out his hand. “Shall we?”
They swayed and turned, flying across the floor with ease. Had dancing ever felt so carefree? Three songs later, Sarah’s parched throat needed rescuing. “I must stop—even if it’s just for a moment. Something cold to drink would suit me better than another turn around the floor.”
“What was it you said earlier about needing to carry you off the floor?” Will’s eyes teased
, but he mopped his brow with a handkerchief. He looked like he could use a short break as well.
Sarah fanned her face with her hand. “I retract that statement.”
They weaved around dancers to the refreshment table. William poured their punch. As she sipped the cool drink, she peered over the glass and surveyed the room. Sarah almost choked. Peter stood on the other side of the room with Rebecca on his arm.
***
His sister had insisted that attending the dance would give Peter some much-needed fun. It would also provide him a chance to spend time with people in the community outside of his church responsibilities. He’d finally agreed. Mary, thrilled to spend the night on the farm with her cousins, seemed eager for him to leave her there. A neighbor who adored the children had offered to stay with them until the parents wore themselves out.
Peter hadn’t expected Rebecca to latch on to his arm as soon as he stepped inside the opera house. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to her caring for Mary during the remaining summer months. Across the room, Sarah peeked up from her punch. Her eyes caught his for a second before they darted away.
Rebecca stood at his side as he searched the room for Ellie and Thomas. Once he spotted them, he’d excuse himself and leave Rebecca to find some other bachelor to occupy her time. He smiled and nodded at several people, trying to ignore raised eyebrows and whispers as Rebecca leaned in closer. An urge to shove her away shot through him like a flash of lightning, but he stifled it.
Two people stepped away from each other, giving Peter a clear view of Sarah engaged in an in animated conversation with William Reed. He bent down and spoke into her ear, and Sarah lit up and laughed even harder.
Peter should have asked her to the dance, regardless of what happened—or didn’t happen—the night on her porch swing. When she hugged him he felt the urge to kiss her, but refrained. He’d tried to keep their relationship uncomplicated because of her desire to work in Africa, and he didn’t want any possible feelings for him to confuse her. But now he’d caught her flirting with William.
