Courting Emma (Little Hickman Creek Series #3)

by Sharlene MacLaren

  He veered Jupiter up Hickman Creek Road. The horse snorted and sniffed the air, eager to speed things up. Jon gave in to the critter's urge and clicked hint into a faster pace. He must have sensed the sweet oats awaiting him at Clarence Sterling's farm, and Jon couldn't blame him. His own mouth watered at what fresh-baked delicacy Mary would have sitting on her kitchen table.

  As usual, Clarence and Mary Sterling sat on their front porch awaiting Jon's arrival. Clarence lifted a thin arm to wave then pushed himself to his feet and hedged down the steps, not as surefooted as he once was, but not frail either.

  Mary rose and looped an arni around a post, putting the other hand to her brow to ward off the sun. Even from a distance, Jon caught the glint in her eyes when their gazes niet.

  "You bake me any cookies?" he called.

  "That and a chocolate pie," she returned on the breeze. "We got roast beef and taters for supper. Baked your favorite rolls, too!"

  Clarence arrived to take Jupiter to the watering barrel. "Got some oats waitin' for ya, feller." Jupiter's friendly snort indicated his gratitude as the two sauntered off to the barn.

  These Friday evening suppers at the Sterlings made for a fine routine.

  There was only one problem with them. He missed Emma.

  Besides the thrill of having Grace at her side when she walked through the doors of Little Hickman Community Church on Sunday morning, Emma had an uncommon peace. No longer did she enter weak-kneed and with a sense of dread. You don't belong here, you re not good enough, you carry shame on your sleeve, your pa is nothin' but a drunk-those nagging thoughts had all but vanished, and perhaps it was because Grace had told her those were the devil's lies to keep her locked away from Christ all those many years. Now that she'd discovered Him as her Savior, the devil had lost a great deal of ground with her.

  Oh, but it gave her joy to discover the devil had not only lost ground, he'd lost his battle for her life.

  Her relationship with Ezra steadily improved, although it had its bumps. Jesus may have saved his soul, but He'd pretty much kept his stubbornness intact. If he wasn't complaining about the horse pills Doc insisted he needed, he was grousing over the soup and water Emma kept shoving down his throat. She mostly ignored his rants, though, figuring they were due to the battle he was losing against his illness. Every clay he looked a little thinner, grew a little weaker, and coughed a little longer, his coughing spells often producing blood, which landed on his shirtfront.

  Folks were plainly curious about the fashionable newcomer whose presence carried rumors about a possible restaurant coming to Little Hickman. "Oh, wouldn't it be grand?" someone had whispered from two pews back before the opening song that morning. "Imagine not havin' to cook a meal." "Wonder what will be on the menu," another remarked. "I hope it's meatloaf," chimed a child's voice.

  Grace hadn't heard the talk, for she'd been conversing with Gladys Hayward, who sat on the other side of her, but the remarks brought a smile to Emma's face. The restaurant would be nice, yes, but restaurant aside, she'd have her cousin close by, and that's what led to her excitement.

  After the service, folks gathered in the churchyard in clusters to visit. Glorious sunshine fell on shoulders wrapped in jackets and capes. Orange-tinted oak leaves fell one by one as early autumn kicked up its breezes. Across the yard, Emma caught sight of Irwin Waggoner and Gertrude Riley, a known couple these clays. In fact, Emma wouldn't be surprised if they married soon. Hickman was due for a wedding, after all. Last winter it'd been Liza Jane Merriwether and Benjamin Broughton, and not long after that, Sarah Woodward and Rocky Callahan. Who would it be this winter if not Irwin and Gertrude?

  Grace's arm tucked in Emma's, the two of them walked along, stopping every so often to chat with whoever vied for their attention.

  "You're comin' to the church supper Tuesday night, I hope," Flora Jarvis had said, hugging Emma's shoulders. "It couldn't be a prettier clay if it was the middle of July," remarked Toni Averly, coming up from behind. "That sure is a perty hat you're wearin', Miss Emma. You, too, Miss Grace," said the middle-aged Eileen Crunkle in passing. "I do hope you won't wait a full year to build that restaurant, ma'am. I could use a mite of good cookin'," called the elderly Elmer Hayward from five feet off, taking a punch in the arm from his wife, Gladys. Everyone who'd seen and heard laughed with glee.

  And so it went.

  "This sure is a friendly town, honey," Grace whispered in her ear as they moved along. "I can hardly wait to call it home. And look at Jon over there." They both paused. "Why, you'd think lie was royalty the way folks swarm him like bees to a comb. That laugh of his, my, it's plain contagious."

  Eninia had been watching hint ever since the benediction. Fact is, if the man left her sight for long, he slipped right into her mind, a true predicament if there ever was one. Yes, he'd been more than kind to her and had even attempted to sneak a kiss the other night before Luke interrupted them. It'd been another one of those moments of weakness, that's all. Simply put, she'd looked weary, and he'd taken pity.

  If ever she needed to stay on her guard, it was now. Somewhere along the line, the Reverend Atkins had overtaken her heart-and now lie had the power to break it in two.

  On Tuesday morning, Jon readied Ezra for his day as best lie could. Lately, the fellow hadn't wanted to rise for his morning ablutions, much less get dressed, but Jon believed in keeping him moving.

  "Up and at 'em, my friend," he insisted. "We're going to sit on the porch this morning. It's a fine clay." With assistance the fellow stood.

  "What's the date?" lie wanted to know.

  "The date. Let me think."

  "October 6," said Emma, breezing into the room looking prettier than a spring flower in her yellow flowered skirt and pale green blouse, dust cloth in hand, a wisp of hair falling square between her eyes.

  Jon smiled but got nothing in return. The woman was nothing this morning if she wasn't business. He wondered if she'd spent any time thinking about their near kiss, which Luke had so rudely interrupted a few nights ago.

  "That right?" Ezra took a step and paused, took another and rested again. "Time's a wastin', ain't it?" lie said.

  "Don't know why you'd say that," Emma mumbled. "You got no cause to be worryin' over the date." She started dusting the dresser despite its spotless sheen.

  "Course I do. My days is numbered."

  "Don't be silly," she said.

  "I ain't bein' silly, girl," lie argued. "I got a feelin' the Lord and Gabriel's been discussin' my homecomin'."

  Emma's skirt flared when she whirled about. She set both hands on her narrow hips and fixed him with perturbed blue eyes. "Don't be talkin' like that."

  Jon watched the two shoot daggers at each other with their pinned gazes and nearly laughed aloud. He'd come to believe they enjoyed sparring.

  "We're going outside to sit a spell, Etnma. Care to join us?" lie asked, already knowing she'd turn him down. Lately, she'd taken pains to give hire the cold shoulder.

  She stuck out her pert little chin and shook her head. "Enjoy the fresh air."

  "I'll join you," said Grace, coning out from the kitchen and wiping her hands on her full skirts, having just finished the breakfast dishes. "Lord knows I won't have another opportunity what with my getting back on that train tomorrow. Enmia, sweetie, I plan to make pies for the church supper tonight. Can we walk to the food store later for some fresh apples?"

  "Of course. I need a few supplies of my own."

  Jon held the door for Grace so she could slip out ahead of Ezra and him. "How about filling our heads with more stories of Chicago?" he asked.

  "Oh, pooh, I've talked enough. I want to hear about you for a change."

  "Ask ne anything you like," Jon said, noting with a side glance that Emma was watching. He took the opportunity to wink at her and chuckled to himself when she blushed.

  As quick as the menfolk set up makeshift picnic tables in the churchyard, the women tossed tablecloths over them. Families arrived by foot, wag
on, and horseback, each with some sort of covered dish to contribute to the supper.

  Grace tossed a red-and-white checkered cloth over the table, long boards placed across two sawhorses, which Benjamin Broughton and Truman Atwater had just set up. The men tipped their hats at Emma and Grace and moved on to the next location.

  "This should do nicely," Grace said, a look of pride set across her face as she placed plates, silver service, napkins, and tall glasses on the table. "Do you think anyone will join us?"

  "You are a magnet, clear cousin," Emma said.

  "Oh, pooh!" Grace said, flicking her wrist. She looked around the churchyard where folks big and small, old and young, were arriving in droves. "It's you they want to sit near. Jon, for one, asked me to save hint a spot, and I doubt it's because he wants to hear any more of my senseless blather. That boy has his eye on you, Eninia Browning, and don't try to deny it."

  Jon was going to sit with them? "But there are so many others whose table he should share. Won't folks be put out with him?"

  "Now, clarlin', you need to stop worrying what folks think. Jon Atkins has an interest in you, and it's high time the citizens of Little Hickman realized it, yourself included."

  "But that's plain silliness." The chill in the air had her pulling her cape closer.

  "Is it? Why, a person would have to be blind not to notice the way lie watches you."

  That's what Billy had said, and for just a fleeting moment, she wondered how the eccentric character was doing. She thought he would've at least sent a postcard by now.

  "You two saving that table for anyone in particular?" asked Rocky Callahan, Sarah at his side, their two youngsters, Rachel and Seth, in tow. Rocky carried a covered casserole and Sarah had her hands full with table service.

  "You come right over here and join us," said Grace. "We've only to save this spot right here for Jon." She leaned across and pointed to the space beside Emma. Emma felt her cheeks go pink.

  If Sarah noticed, she didn't let on. Instead, she gifted them with a radiant smile, revealing glistening teeth. "Oh, I'm glad you've made room for us. I've so wanted to talk to both of you."

  While the ladies set the table, Rocky went off in search of folding chairs and Seth prattled about the puppies the Warners had carted with them and the "Free Pups" sign Tini Warner had leaned against their crate.

  "How is your father doing, Emma? I've heard there's been good and bad days."

  "You heard right," Eninia said, thankful at least that Jon's name had dropped from the conversation. "Today proved to be a better one. In fact, Grace tried to talk hint into joining its tonight, but he begged off. We left him sitting on the porch where he's been most of the day. He'll be fine for a couple of hours."

  "That's good to hear. I'm sure your excellent care has made a big difference."

  "That and the reverend's," Grace put in. "He's a wonder, that nian, the way he finds time to tend to the needs of his flock, reads volumes of books while studying for his sermons, works at the church, and still spends hours caring for a dying man."

  Emma flinched at the words dying man then chided herself for it. She knew as well as anyone that Ezra wasn't long for this world, but did folks have to keep reminding her of it, her father included? Why, just this morning he'd made mention that time was wasting. Was he privy to something, some keen perception of things to cone?

  Seeming to sense Emma's sudden discomfort, Sarah stood silent before taking in a deep breath. "Well," she pointed her gaze at Grace, "have you enjoyed your stay in Little Hickman?" She tossed a lock of red hair over her shoulder as she positioned a silver fork just so.

  Across the way, the Broughton family gathered at a table with the Swains. In the midst of arranging her table service, Liza shot a glance around the churchyard. When she saw Emnia, she gave a hearty wave. Her pregnant belly so protruded that Emma wondered how she'd ever scoot close enough to the table to reach her plate. She returned the friendly gesture.

  "Very much," Grace was saying. "I can hardly wait to return. I've only to make final arrangements for the sale of niy restaurant in Chicago and pack up my belongings. I'ni aiming for late November, early December. I hope I'm not being unrealistic."

  "Oh, I shouldn't think so," Sarah said. "As long as you have good attorneys who can draw your papers up in short order. These things can happen relatively quickly if you've already procured a buyer."

  "Oh, I have. I sent a wire to the interested party just yesterday, in fact, and his return message was one of utter delight. He and his wife have been a great help to me over the years, particularly after my husband's passing, and I shall miss then greatly. They would be the only basis for my regretting leaving the big city."

  Sarah looked thoughtful. "I can surely understand that. You'll purchase the property across from the church, then?"

  Vivid eyes lit with excitement. "I met with Clyde Winthrop yesterday morning. As soon as I return home, I'll wire the money from my bank to his. It was a very simple transaction. Jon promises to make the arrangements for finding a builder from Lexington."

  "I'ni sure Rocky would be happy to assist hint. He knows a great many people in the contracting field."

  Rocky returned with several folding chairs under both arms. "I believe I heard my name mentioned. I hope it wasn't in vain." The ladies laughed and continued their chatter, Seth started begging to go see the puppies, and Rachel spotted her friend, Lill Broughton, and announced her departure. Rocky whisked the two of them off with a warning not to go far and started setting up chairs.

  he church supper accomplished everything Jon had hoped, bringing folks together for a time of laughter and pleasant conversation. He'd moved from one table to the next, not wanting to leave anyone out, making certain to approach newcomers first, of which there'd been several. To his delight, established church members took these visitors under their wings, inviting them to their tables. It seemed the folks of Little Hickman Community Church were learning the art of compassion, and he guessed Ezra Browning's confession had had a hand it that, inspiring folks to take greater risks, care more, love more deeply.

  Eninia's gentle laughter carried over the breezes, something Seth had said having sparked her mirth. Then, when Rachel jumped in, it made Emma laugh harder. He'd missed the joke entirely, of course, his mind wandering to church matters.

  "What do you think of that?" Rocky asked, zooming in on Jon, a twinkle in his eye.

  Time to confess his inattention. Grace reached across Emma and put a hand on his arm. "Oh, he's in favor, I'm sure.

  "I am?" he asked.

  "Of course. It could draw a big crowd."

  "It could?"

  "You don't think the preacher kissing a pig's snout would attract attention?"

  Ali, so that was it. "Depends on which preacher does the deed. Now if we're talking Reverend Miller, I could see-"

  "We're talking you, illy friend," Rocky inserted. "The Sunday we reach two hundred in attendance, you kiss a drooling pig the next week."

  "Oh." Growing the church by artificial means didn't appeal to him, but on the other hand, if it meant increasing his audience for receiving the gospel message, what preacher wouldn't go for it?

  "That's something I would like to see," said Emma, giggling.

  He leaned into her, daring her to pull back. "What? You don't think I'd kiss a pig?" he asked. "I've kissed worse." As soon as he said it, he noticed his error. Her eyes lost all their humor; her face paled like a sunnier moon. Surely, she didn't think he meant her. That time he'd kissed her had been nothing short of spectacular. "Not you! I mean, your...." Well, wasn't this a pickle! Emma slapped a hand over her mouth. He felt his face go beet red.

  "What I meant was-Georgia Whitehead!" He threw Rocky a pleading glance, but his friend just crossed his arms over his chest and gave his head a slow shake.

  "You remember her, Rock." Desperation crawled up his spine. "What was it? Third grade? You guys dared me to kiss her out behind the school, said you'd each give me a penny if..
..

  Grace and Sarah sat wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, and he didn't even dare look at Emma. He could be mistaken, but hadn't he just given away the fact that he'd kissed his landlady?

  "Reverend! Reverend Atkins!"

  Just when he thought up a believable explanation, he heard someone call his name. To his surprise, rounding the church, and in a great hurry, were Harland Collins and Gideon Barnard.

  Instinct told him something wasn't right, so lie pushed back and stood, hands steepled on the tabletop. "What is it?"

  "You better cone," Harland said on a shaky breath. He eyeballed Eninia. "You too, Miss Enna."

  Emma wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin and stood beside Jon. "Where? What's going on?"

  Gideon swallowed hard. "It's Ezra. He's-over at the saloon."

  "The saloon!" Emma shrieked. "Oh, no! What in the world...?" She tossed down her napkin and started marching across the yard.

  "Emma, wait!" Jon called.

  When she didn't slow down, just picked up her long skirts and walked faster, Grace leaped from her chair and took off after her. Jon let then go.

  "What's he doing at the saloon?" he asked both men, practicing his preacherly, calm demeanor, but feeling anything but relaxed. Before he ran off half-cocked, he needed details.

  Harland shook his head. "Craziest thing you ever (lid see. Gid and nie was just sittin' there at the madam's place enjoyin' ar ale when in conies Ezra. At first I didn't think nothin' of it 'cause he used to be a fixture there. Then it hit me he ain't s'posed to be there.

  "Me and Gid both thought it at the sane time. We was goin' to take 'iin back to the house, but then he walks tip on the stage and gets everyone's attention. Even Gus stopped playin' the planer."

  Jon motioned for them to start moving toward the saloon. "Keep talking," lie said, giving Rocky a silent invitation to follow. Without a second's hesitation, lie leaped from his chair. Several other nien who'd noticed the commotion, perhaps expecting trouble, tagged along. Jon was thankful for their presence.