A Clean Slate (Kansas Crossroads Book 4)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Mrs. Clasby seemed to consider that. “Wasn’t the young woman who strangled Mr. Cannell one of the hotel girls?”

  “She was indeed. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she choked him, however, since he didn’t die from the event.”

  She waved a hand. “I have no time to fuss over exact word definitions, Pastor. I have a property to sell, a niece to place, and an entire life’s worth of belongings to pack. I will stop by the hotel directly. Do you suppose it would be all right if she starts in two weeks? I’ll need her help at the house until then.”

  “I can’t speak for Mr. Brody, but I imagine he’d at least consider it.”

  “Thank you. That is a load off my mind. Good day to you, Pastor.”

  Robert gave his best wishes, walked Mrs. Clasby to the door, and then collapsed in the chair by the front door, his hand over his eyes.

  “Is something wrong, Pastor?” Mrs. Little asked. She always walked so quietly, he was hardly ever aware of when she was approaching.

  “I’m all right. I just have a new problem to solve. If anyone needs me, I’ll be over visiting Miss Britt. Oh, and what do you know about Denver?”

  ***

  Orinda Lou Britt had been a famous opera singer, but she’d been forced into retirement due to strain on her vocal chords. Now she sang rarely, and spoke in a whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Pastor, but I can’t accept,” she said as she plopped another sugar cube into her tea. “A choir director must be able to sing if she’s to lead properly, and I would be doing you a greater disservice than I would a kindness. I hope you don’t think me selfish, but I must say no.”

  Robert sat back in his chair, feeling deflated. “Miss Britt, you know how important music is to a Sunday meeting. A service without hymns is hardly a service at all, and the congregation must be edified. Yes, they are touched when they sing together, but a certain message can come through a choir performance that cannot come any other way, when the hearers are quiet and listening. I beg of you to reconsider.”

  “I wish I could, Pastor, but I’ve found that if I sing more than once every other month, I suffer for it. My gifts have been limited. I suppose that’s only fair—I did have a glorious career, but now I must pick and choose. I promise I’ll still sing for the charity events, but this isn’t something I can do on a weekly basis.”

  Robert sighed. “I understand, Miss Britt, I do. I’ll just have to find another way, I suppose.”

  “I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you too badly.”

  “No, no, it’s not your responsibility. I’ll keep looking, and I’ll trust the Lord to provide. He wants a choir in His church, and so I’m sure He’ll send someone who can conduct it.”

  Robert thanked Miss Britt for the tea and sandwiches, then went on his way. The sun was warm, but not unpleasantly so, and the humidity seemed to be less than usual. It was a very nice day for a walk. In fact, the day was so nice, he just might walk all the way to the Brody Hotel.

  When he reached the establishment, he found a meal service in full swing and sat down at a table near the back of the room. Miss Markham was bustling to and fro, her skirts swaying as she walked, but she stopped cold when she saw him, nearly upsetting the tray she carried. A moment later, she was at his side.

  “Back again so soon, Pastor?”

  “I do tend to get hungry at regular intervals.” He smiled at her, trying to diffuse her obvious irritation.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll take the meatloaf. That gentleman seems to be enjoying his.” He nodded at the table next to his.

  “Very well. I’ll be right back.”

  Robert played with his napkin while he waited. He didn’t have the faintest idea how to present what he’d come to say. She’d already turned him down flat, with no room for argument, and yet here he was, getting ready to beg her to reconsider—and to do more. He’d pondered over his entire congregation, and there simply wasn’t anyone else who could do the job. The organist certainly couldn’t take over—she could barely find the notes as it was. If Miss Markham said no, he didn’t know what he’d do. Perhaps he’d need to start praying for more musically talented parishioners.

  His food was excellent, but the service left a great deal to be desired. Miss Markham plopped down his plate with all the finesse of a drunk turkey, and the resulting splatter nearly landed on his shirtfront. Instead, it hit the tablecloth. He tried to hide his amusement, knowing that she’d likely be the one to scrub out that spot later. He waited in the dining room until she was done serving, and then he asked for a minute of her time.

  “I’ve been pulled away from my duties so often this week, it’s a wonder I still have a job,” she retorted, her hands on her hips.

  “I spoke to Miss Hampton on my way in,” he replied mildly. “She had no objection to my taking you for a short stroll after the passengers left.”

  “If she has no objection, perhaps she should be the one to take the stroll.” When he said nothing, she sighed. “Fine. I’ll go. Ten minutes, Pastor—that’s all I can spare.”

  With Miss Markham at his side, Robert walked down the street, nodding at familiar faces as they passed. “You must feel as though I’m pestering you, Miss Markham,” he said. “I just find myself needing to say a great deal to you all of a sudden.”

  “Which is quite remarkable, considering that we’d hardly spoken at all before Sunday services.”

  “I wanted to speak with you before that, but I never had the right opportunity. Now, they’re coming thick and fast.”

  Miss Markham stopped and turned to face him. “What is it now? A man with a knife in the parlor, or perhaps a man with a rope in the barn? Just point me at them, Pastor. I’ll dispatch them quite handily.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. She certainly was the most unconventional woman he’d ever met, but he liked her more and more each time they spoke, even though she was plainly exasperated by him. “I’m actually here to readdress the other issue. That of the choir.”

  “I explained to you that I simply couldn’t do it. What must I do to convince you?”

  “But my need is so much more dire now. Please allow me to explain. My choir director is moving, and there’s no one else who can take her place. If you don’t lend me a hand—”

  “Wait. Do I understand that you now want me to direct the choir? Before, you only wanted me to join it.”

  “I did say that the situation had become more dire,” he said, attempting a winning smile.

  “If I wouldn’t dream of merely joining the choir, what on earth makes you think I’d consent to direct it? You’re not just asking me to dip my toes in a river—you want me to dive into the ocean.”

  Robert glanced up and down the street to make sure his reply wouldn’t be overheard by someone who might misunderstand. “Miss Markham, I know you’ll doubt what I’m about to say, but I shall say it anyway. I prayed and asked God to lead me to someone who could lead this choir, and your face immediately came to mind. I tried to contemplate others in the congregation, but there simply is no one else. I’ve learned over the course of the last few years that if God suggests something, I should do it, and so I’m here to beg you to reconsider. I tried to respect your wishes—I really did. But if you’re the right one for the task, can either one of us tell God no?”

  “I’ve told Him no rather a startling number of times in my life,” she replied. “Surprisingly, no lightning has come from the sky, and I’ve not yet been swallowed up by an earthquake. Or a whale, for that matter.”

  “So you are conversant with the Bible, then,” Robert said, trying to interject some humor into this conversation.

  “I’m very well acquainted with it. I’ve attended church my entire life until moving here. I’ve just done it for all the wrong reasons. Pastor Osbourne, I must refuse once again. I’m sorry.”

  She took a step back toward the hotel, but before he knew what he was doing, Robert’s hand shot out and he caught her wrist. �
�Please, Olivia,” he said. “Please, I’m begging you.”

  Whatever had possessed him to grab her and use her first name, he had no idea. He wouldn’t have dreamed of doing such a thing if he wasn’t so desperate. She met his gaze with hers for a long minute, then said, “All right. I’ll do it. But if you get reports that your new choir director is more suited to the back room than the front of the congregation, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He could hardly believe what she was saying. “Excuse me? Did you just agree?”

  “If you’re asking me to repeat myself, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Saying it the first time was difficult enough, and if I have to say it again, chances are quite good that I’ll choke.”

  He realized he was still holding her wrist, and let go. “I wouldn’t dream of making you repeat yourself. Can you come down to my office tomorrow afternoon so we can discuss your duties and responsibilities? Perhaps between the trains?”

  “I suppose that would be all right, but I really do need to discuss this with Mr. Brody before I fully commit. We’re short-handed still, and I don’t know how he’ll feel about me spending time somewhere else. Not that I’m his most reliable helper, but he just let Jeanette go, and . . .”

  Robert held up a hand. “I might have some good news for you on that front. A girl named Sarah Palmer may come by to speak to Mr. Brody about a job.”

  “Oh.” Miss Markham paused. “That would be good. So, you’re seeking ways to shoot down my every objection, I see.”

  “I’ll certainly give it my all.” He paused, gratitude overwhelming him. “Thank you, Miss Markham. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet. Let’s make sure I don’t blow up your entire church first.”

  Chapter Five

  Olivia tapped on Adam’s office door and entered when he called out, “Come in.”

  She stood in front of his desk, perhaps more irritated than she’d ever been in her life. “You must promise not to laugh.”

  Adam laid his pen on the desk and looked at her curiously. “But now I want to laugh all the more.”

  “Of course you do.” She took a deep breath. “Pastor Osbourne asked me to direct his church choir, and I said yes.”

  “He asked what? And you said yes?” Adam’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.

  “You heard me perfectly well enough the first time.”

  “I heard you say something completely and totally shocking. I thought I’d best check my facts.” Adam contemplated her. “So, you said yes. Are you feeling quite all right? Do I need to send for Dr. Wayment?”

  “You may need to. Have you ever known me to do anything so ridiculous?”

  “It certainly isn’t like you. However, I think it could be quite good for you.”

  Olivia scowled at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, here you are, gifted with a marvelous talent, and yet you never use it. What better way to remedy that than to lead an entire choir? I think this will be very good for you indeed.”

  “I’m not looking for something to be good for me! I don’t understand why there must always be such focus on improving oneself and becoming a better person. It’s tiring, really.”

  Adam chuckled. “It is tiring, but necessary. Whether we like it or not, Olivia, life will reveal to us who we really are, and it gives us chances to build on those discoveries. It’s just how things are.”

  “I don’t disagree with you, but I dislike the entire process. So, you approve, then?”

  “I approve wholeheartedly.”

  “It will require me to spend a little time away from the hotel. Pastor Osbourne may have found another girl to work here, though—it seems he thought of everything to keep me from refusing him.”

  “Oh? Another girl? That would be wonderful. I’ll look forward to meeting her. In the meantime, do what you must for the choir.” A smile played around his lips. “I can’t help it. It’s funny.”

  “I told him countless times that I’m hardly qualified to represent a church in any way, but he just doesn’t believe me.”

  “Maybe he sees something in you that you don’t see in yourself. I wouldn’t consider you out for the count, Olivia. There’s always redemption. And sometimes, that comes while conducting a choir.”

  ***

  Olivia fidgeted while waiting in the pastor’s office, and she never fidgeted. Her mother had taught her that the ability to sit perfectly still was the hallmark of a true lady. Well, on this occasion, she had every reason and right to fidget.

  “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Markham.” Pastor Osbourne hurried into the room and tossed his hat on a vacant chair. “I was called away at the last minute by an ill parishioner.”

  “That’s quite all right. I imagine your position is rather like that of a doctor—you have to be available all the time.”

  “True. But now, let’s discuss the choir.” He settled down in his chair and looked at her intently. “Thank you again for accepting this position. I can’t thank you enough for changing your mind. May I ask what convinced you to do it? In case I ever need to convince someone again in future, you see.” He smiled and laced his fingers together on the desktop.

  “I don’t know what it was, actually.” Olivia looked down at her fisted hands. She didn’t want to admit that she’d felt something warm stir inside her when he’d asked. That would be too close to admitting that he was right, or that she should have more charity, or that she should share her talents with others. “Perhaps I just hate seeing grown men beg.”

  He laughed. “I’ll remember that.” Reaching into a desk drawer, he pulled out a piece of paper and slid it over to her. “This is a list of the musical selections the choir performed over the course of the last year. If you’d like them to repeat any of them rather than diving into brand-new material, at least to start, that’s certainly all right. We rarely get tired of a good hymn around here. This brings me to my second point—we adhere to the hymnbook as much as possible for our music selections, although it’s entirely up to you how you’d like to arrange them. If you’d like to bring in a song that isn’t found in the hymnbook, I’ll need to review it for appropriateness for our chapel. The purpose of music at church is to help create and sustain a feeling of worship, and nothing should detract from that feeling.”

  Olivia shook her head. “And yet you asked me to conduct the choir. Pastor, are you sure about this?”

  “I trust your musical sensibilities, Miss Markham, and I know you’ll give this your all.”

  “You certainly seem to know a lot about me, considering we’ve only just met.”

  “I confess, I take a lot on faith.”

  She shook her head again. “Your faith must be quite monumental, then.” She scanned the list, recognizing a few of the hymns, but not most. “May I borrow a hymnbook?”

  “Certainly. In fact, I have one right here, brand new, that you may keep.” He swiveled around, grabbed a book from a shelf behind him, and turned to hand it to her. “It would be quite impossible for the choir director to choose music if she didn’t have a book of her own.”

  Olivia ran her finger over the cover, liking the embossed texture. “Thank you,” she murmured. She could tell that he put a lot of stock in the contents of this book, and that he took pride in giving it to her. She had received a great many presents in her life, but she’d never detected that kind of pleasure in the giver. “Do you have a list of choir members, and can you tell me when they are accustomed to meeting?”

  “Ah, yes. I knew I was forgetting something. The choir meets in the chapel every Thursday night, so that’s tomorrow, and here is a list.”

  Olivia glanced down the rows of names. “There aren’t many men here,” she commented.

  The pastor cleared his throat. “Um, yes. Not many of the men in this area feel that singing is a masculine activity. Those who do participate tend to endure quite a bit of teasing from their friends.”

  “Well, t
hat’s just silly. There are few things in the world more attractive to a woman than a man who can sing. Maybe they should share that little tidbit of knowledge with their friends and see who has the last laugh.”

  Pastor Osbourne appeared to be smothering a smile. “You do make a good point. Perhaps you could convince more of our brethren to attend. In the meantime, we do the best we can with what we have. Our altos are enthusiastic, and our sopranos are quite robust. Faithful members, every one of them.”

  Olivia took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations, Pastor. I just beg of you not to be too disappointed when I fail.”

  “I won’t be disappointed at all, because I doubt very much that you’ll fail.” He gave her another smile. She supposed he was trying to be reassuring. “Another bit of news that might cheer you—we’re having a church picnic out on the Perrys’ farm on Saturday afternoon. That would be an excellent time for you to get to know the rest of the congregation.”

  “I need to meet everyone? Getting to know the choir won’t be enough?”

  “Come now, Miss Markham, I do believe you’ll survive the experience.”

  ***

  Robert stared out the window for several long minutes after Miss Markham left. There was something about her, a pleading in her eyes that kept coming to his mind and wouldn’t leave. There was something missing in her life, a hole in her heart, that perhaps this choir position could fill, and she might even make some friends within the church community as well. Something had to take away that great loneliness he saw in her.

  He finally turned from the window when he heard a tap on his door. “Pastor, here’s today’s mail.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Little.” He took the small stack from her and flipped through it, smiling when he saw the last envelope. Settling back in his chair, he opened the letter, chuckling at the crooked handwriting and the horribly misspelled words. Thankfully, he’d had a lot of practice deciphering this particular penmanship, and he began to read.