by Janice Hanna
“You wash, I’ll dry?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yep. Sounds good to me.”
He was elbow-deep in soapy water as she chattered on and on about how wonderful the day had been.
“Were we at the same table?” he asked. “Because my memories of the event are a little different from yours.”
She flashed a smile so sweet that it stopped him in his tracks. “Oh, but don’t you see? We were all together. In one place. Together, to celebrate God’s goodness. Sure, the boys were a handful, but at least they were safe and happy and well-fed.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Gene stopped his work and scrutinized her. She seemed more relaxed today, almost like a different person. But how did one go about saying such a thing without causing offense? And there was something about her physical appearance too. She looked…extra pretty. He shifted his gaze to the dishes and started scrubbing once again, now deep in thought.
Perhaps the change in appearance had something to do with her statement about God’s goodness. Yes, she certainly seemed content. Thank goodness for that. Perhaps she wouldn’t run off before the new director arrived in May. That would certainly ease his mind on many levels.
“What?” she asked after a moment. “What is it?”
He paused, lifted a soapy finger, and pointed to her light brown hair, which hung loose around her shoulders. “I knew there was something different about you today.”
“Different?”
“Yes.” He pointed again and then pulled his hand back, remembering his mother’s words about pointing being impolite. “I know what it is. You’re wearing your hair down. You never do that. It’s always up.”
Her eyes widened, and she reached up to touch the length of her hair. “Oh my. I meant to put it up after we finished cooking. And then, of course, the children distracted me. You heard what they did, didn’t you?”
He sighed. “It might be easier to tell me what they didn’t do. I’m sure the list of evil deeds is growing as we speak.”
“Let’s just say they’re rowdy and leave it at that.”
The overhead light happened to pick up the various shades of her hair at that very moment, distracting him.
“Sheriff?” She gave him a curious look. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” If only you hadn’t worn your hair down. I might’ve stood a chance at paying attention to what you’re saying. “What were we talking about again?”
“I was about to explain why the boys had me so distracted. You’re probably not going to believe this….”
“Try me.”
“Well, it’s the strangest thing. They—”
“You’re wearing lace.” Had he interrupted her again? From the look on her face, yes, he had. But, still, he would be remiss in not pointing it out. The woman never wore lace. Nothing frilly. Only sensible brown or gray dresses. Nothing like this soft white blouse she wore today.
He pointed to her blouse. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in lace before. And that blue skirt. You don’t usually wear blue.”
“Oh, that.” Her cheeks turned the prettiest rosy-pink. “You’re right. I’ve been trying to wear more practical clothes because of the heavy work involved, but this is a holiday, a day to celebrate.”
“Well, then, you should celebrate every day.”
“O–oh?”
Gene felt the strangest sense of wonder pass over him as she smiled. He didn’t get to revel in the feeling for long, though, because the boys and girls ran through the kitchen to the back door, jarring him back to his senses.
“Whoa, Nellie!” Gene dropped the dishes into the sink and blocked the door. From the ends of his fingers, soap bubbles dripped onto the floor. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Miss Jenny said we could play in the piles of leaves in the backyard,” Callie said.
“Aw, she just wants an excuse to be alone with Mr. Brewer,” Henry threw in, rolling his eyes.
Gene fought to keep from responding to that comment. His mother entered the kitchen and glanced his way. “Don’t pay them any mind. They’re prone to exaggeration.”
“No doubt.” Gene wasn’t sure what to say.
“You’re making a mess, son.” His mother gestured to his soapy hands. “Almost as big a mess as you made in putting together that pecan pie.”
He groaned.
“Better get back to work. I’ll go out back with the children.” She looked between Gene and Rena. “If you two can handle the work in here, I mean.”
“We’re doing just fine,” Rena’s happy-go-lucky voice sounded. “Have fun out there.”
The children disappeared through the door and Gene returned to his labors at the sink. He and Rena worked side by side, occasionally pausing to gaze out the kitchen window at the piles of leaves and the children who danced through them.
“I’ve always loved Thanksgiving Day because of the changing of the leaves,” Rena said. “We had some beautiful magnolia trees in our front yard in Gulfport. I used to love them so.”
“Why do you say had? Did a hurricane blow them away or something?”
“Actually, yes.” Her expression shifted, and he could read the sadness in her eyes.
“Ah. Sorry. Didn’t really think you’d say yes. We don’t see hurricanes up this way. Just tornadoes.” The moment he spoke the word, visions of Brenda arose. He did his best to shove them back down.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I just saw a tornado whip through right here.” She drew so near they were practically touching, as she pointed at Callie through the window. “See? She’s stirring up the leaves like the wind.”
“Um, yes.” Gene paused, wondering if the delightful smell of perfume Rena was wearing had somehow affected him. He couldn’t seem to think straight today.
Rena’s eyelashes fluttered a bit and then she went back to work, drying the large turkey platter. “I’ve been waiting for this day ever since I got here. The children deserve a special day like this, don’t you think? I know they’re a handful, but they’re so precious.”
Precious wasn’t exactly the word he would’ve chosen, and he did have to wonder if Rena was being sensible in her approach to the children. Did she not realize how easily they could turn on her? Perhaps someone needed to fill her in before the boys and girls took advantage of her generous nature once more.
“Couple things you should know.” Gene pointed to Josephine. “That one right there…she’s a snitch.”
“Meaning she tells on the others?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “Thrives on it, in fact. She doesn’t always get her stories straight, but she’s happy to tell you who committed the offense.”
“Oh, but she’s such a darling little thing. And she’s been through so much. She lost her parents in a house fire, you know. If you really take the time to get to know her, you will see a scared little girl in need of a mother. That’s all she’s crying out for—the attention every child deserves.”
“Hmm.”
“Getting to know the children is key.” A dreamy-eyed expression settled onto Rena’s face. “For instance, I’ve been getting to know Lilly and Callie. You might be surprised to hear that Callie writes letters to her mother, though her memories are fading. Don’t you find that endearing?”
“I had no idea. Mrs. Wabash never told me.”
“It’s true.” Rena gazed at Callie. “Poor little thing has a whole drawer full of them. I found them when I was putting clothes away.” Rena’s eyes misted over. “I want so desperately to make a difference in their lives, Gene. I hope I can.” She dried a plate and set it on the counter.
“You already are.” Should he tell her that she was the only director thus far who’d actually fallen in love with the children? That they seemed to be responding to her in a way he’d never seen before? That her kindness and gentle nature had taken everyone by surprise…even him?
Gene had just opened his mouth to share these thoughts when Rena gestured to
ward the twins. “They’re the cutest little things, aren’t they? That red hair and all those freckles.” Her nose wrinkled. “But I have a hard time understanding them. The brogue is thick, but the curls are thicker. They’re long overdue for a haircut, but Joe refuses to touch them. I did my best with Wesley’s hair, but he’s not happy with the outcome. Not sure I am, either.”
“Certainly looks better than before.”
“Thank you. I’m still learning, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll tell you someone else who’s overdue for a haircut, and that’s Oliver.”
Gene fought the temptation to repeat, “And that’s Oliver.” Instead, he chuckled. “Good luck in getting him to sit still long enough to cut his hair. He’s slipperier than a worm avoiding the hook.”
Rena chuckled. “You have such a quaint way with words.” She finished drying another plate and added it to the stack.
He felt his smile fading. “I’m not a city fella, if that’s what you mean. Just a good old country boy from Oklahoma, and right proud of it.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and he could read the concern in her eyes. “Oh, I wasn’t poking fun. I…well, I think your way of speaking is…” She paused. “Cute.”
“Cute, eh?” He found himself smiling again. “Ain’t been called ‘cute’ since I was a boy. But I can’t say as I mind, as long as you smile like that when you say it.”
Her eyelashes fluttered a bit, but the smile never diminished. Yes, indeed. She could call him anything she liked.
An odd silence grew between them. Gene needed to figure out a way to break it. “What are you planning for Christmas?” he asked after a moment.
“For the children, you mean?” She seemed to come alive once more. “They’ve absconded with the Sears, Roebuck and Co. catalogue and have nearly worn it out. I plan to contact my brother with a list. Perhaps our friends and church members in Gulfport can meet the need for Christmas gifts. I’m sure they would like the opportunity to try. And anything they don’t come up with, well…” Her words drifted off.
“Well, what?” he asked.
She reached for a dishcloth and started drying a drinking glass. “I don’t mean to sound presumptuous, but I have some money put away. I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of providing Christmas for the children. It would be my honor, in fact. The more I get to know them, the more I see the particular needs, especially for clothing and shoes. It’s just a matter of listing the right sizes. My brother and sister-in-law can take care of the rest. And if they can’t, I can.” She put the glass down and reached for another.
“Still, I hate to see you spend your own money on them.”
“What else is it good for?” She began drying a large kettle.
“True.” He released a slow breath, contemplating her words. He and Brenda had never had more than a couple of nickels to rub together, so he truly could not relate to Rena’s financial status. Still, she didn’t seem to mind spending it on the children, a trait he found admirable.
“I’m going to make new dresses for the girls for Christmas, but I’ll need to order clothing for the boys. I could use your help with that.”
“Of course.” He paused and gave her another look. “You’re a very kind woman. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She smiled. “Well, some of the folks I worked with at the missions society said something similar once. I’ve always loved tending to the needs of others.”
“It suits you.”
“I had little else to do back in Gulfport, to be honest. I spent most of my days rather bored.” She chuckled. “Those days are behind me.”
“They sure are.” He paused. “Before you arrived, I wondered what sort of life you would be leaving to come here.”
“Did you now?” A slow smile tipped up the corners of her lips. “What did you imagine, based on my letter?”
Gene took a moment to think about his answer. “I don’t suppose I saw you as a socialite. I rather envisioned a woman more…” He hesitated. “Tough?”
“I’m tough.”
He tried not to laugh. “Maybe, but…”
“And I was no socialite. That’s not to say I didn’t taste of that world, but my heart was never in it. I was only there because…” Her gaze shifted downward. “Well, because there was nowhere else for a single young woman to live. I found myself in a rather awkward predicament after my parents died, but I was too young to do anything about it.”
“I’m sorry.” He took her hand, realizing too late that the soap bubbles might be less than desirable. “I’m not trying to make this uncomfortable for you. I’m just saying you’re a bit different from what I pictured. But then again, who can tell much from a letter?”
“True.” She nodded. “It’s only meeting face-to-face that one can ascertain certain things about a person.”
“Indeed.” He held tightly to her hand, and unspoken words seemed to travel between them.
From outside, one of the children hollered and Gene let go of Rena’s hand at once. “Guess I’d better get out there and referee.”
“And just when we were having such a good time.” She gave him a little wink, one that sent his heart fluttering. Good gravy. Since when had a woman affected him this way? Even Jenny, as beautiful as she was, hadn’t stirred his heart in such a manner.
“Gene, you’re needed out here.” His mother’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Better hurry.”
He sighed then turned in the direction of her voice.
Rena couldn’t help but grin as she looked out the window at Gene and the children. He’d been summoned to scold Oliver but ended up dunking the boy into a pile of red-and-gold leaves. Then again, he always seemed to go easier on his own boys than the rest of the children. No doubt he felt sorry for them, losing their mother and all. The sheriff’s disciplinary skills were unusual at best, but there was something rather lovely about the way he spoke to the boys and girls. It did her heart good.
In fact, there were a great many things about the man that did her heart good. After all, he could bake a heavenly pecan pie and wash dishes.
She watched him for a moment longer, her heart aflutter with joy, then returned her attention to the dishes.
Chapter Fourteen
TIPS FOR DEALING WITH UNRULY YOUNG’UNS—Women have a deep God-given desire to nurture others. I felt that desire almost from childhood as I played with my dolls. My husband, Reuben, and I have parented one daughter, Sadie. But we also helped to raise Reuben’s younger sister, Rena, who came to us at the vulnerable age of fourteen. If I’ve learned one thing about children, it is this: they respond to love. When all else fails…love.
—Virginia Jewel, Gulfport, Mississippi
Gene spent the next couple of hours lounging on the broken-down sofa and gabbing with the ladies and Jonathan. At four o’clock his mother fixed a plate of food for Charlie and sent him packing. Though he hated to admit it, Gene didn’t want to leave. He’d enjoyed his time with Jenny, sure, but he’d also shared more enjoyable conversation with Rena. Her embarrassed smiles and sideways glances had not escaped his notice. And he still couldn’t get over the fact that she’d left a calm, quiet existence back in Gulfport to come here and tend to seventeen children. What a difference!
As he made his way back to the jailhouse, he thought about his boys and their behavior at the dinner table. He’d seen enough of their shenanigans at home, naturally, but these battles they raged against each other had to stop, at least in public. How would he bring that about? A few moments of contemplation followed. Just as he reached the jail, a strange thought flitted through his mind: “Love them.”
He swallowed hard and turned off the car.
“Love them.”
At once he began to argue with himself. He did love them. He fed them, clothed them, gave them swats when they needed it.…
“Love them.”
Ugh. There it was again, that…that nudging. Had he missed something, perhaps? Could it be that
loving little boys involved more than an occasional hug or prayers at bedtime? Could he really love them with the kind of intensity necessary to turn their lives around?
Gene had no idea, but he was certainly willing to give the idea time to develop.
Later that night, the children finally settled down for Rena. The boys tumbled into their beds, exhausted from the antics of the day. Next came the girls. Callie and Josephine wriggled under their quilts right away, but Lilly took a little longer.
Rena paused to brush her beautiful curls and lifted a loose hair from the child’s brow. “I always wanted curly hair,” she said.
Lilly’s nose wrinkled. “Not me. I want pretty, straight hair like yours.” She fingered Rena’s hair then leaned against her and whispered, “This was the best Thanksgiving ever.” Her words were followed by a contented sigh.
Rena gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Really? Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes.” Lilly giggled. “The very, very, very best!” She sat up in the bed, threw her arms around Rena’s neck, and gave her a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“You are so welcome, Lilly-Bear.”
“Lilly-Bear?” The child giggled. “I like it.”
Rena gave her a little kiss on the forehead and tucked her in. Then she turned her attention to the others, kissing Callie and Josephine on their foreheads.
“Miss Rena?” Josephine whispered from under the covers. “I…I love you.”
Rena knelt next to the youngster’s bed, her eyes now brimming with tears. “Oh, you sweet girl. I love you too.” She gave her another kiss on the forehead, this one filled with far more emotion than the one before.
Minutes later, her heart quite full, Rena walked down the stairs to say good night to Jenny and Carolina, who were both resting in the parlor—Carolina on the lumpy sofa and Jenny in the broken wingback chair.
“Quite a day, wouldn’t you say?” Jenny kicked off her shoes.
“Oh, it had its moments.” Carolina smiled. “Right now, I feel about as broken-down as this old sofa. My joints are as twisted as these springs.”
