The pattern of her heart, p.26
The Pattern of Her Heart, page 26
As Nevan scurried off, Kiara told the others that supper would be ready in just a wee bit.
“I’d be happy to give ya a hand with the preparations,” Mary Margaret offered.
“I won’t hear of it. Ya sit there and enjoy yarself,” she said, hurrying off before Mary Margaret could argue the point.
After placing the food on the dining room table, she surveyed the kitchen to make certain she’d not forgotten anything.
“Do I pass yar inspection?” Paddy asked as he returned to the kitchen.
“I suppose ya’ll have to do, but ya could have dried yar hair a wee bit. Supper’s waiting—put on this shirt and come along with ya.”
Paddy shrugged into the shirt and fastened the final button as he followed Kiara into the dining room. “Ya’re acting strange. I do na see what all the fuss—”
When her brother stopped midsentence, Kiara knew he’d spied Mary Margaret sitting in the adjacent parlor. Stepping to one side, she pulled Paddy forward. “I’m sure ya’ll be remembering me brother, Paddy,” she said to Mary Margaret.
“Aye, that I do. Good evening, Paddy,” she said.
“Good evening. I did na know Kiara was entertaining this evening or I would have dressed for the occasion,” he said, giving Kiara a frown.
“Sure and I think ya look quite presentable,” Mary Margaret said.
Kiara was pleased to see the sparkle in Mary Margaret’s eyes as she spoke to Paddy. And though Paddy might have been reluctant to admit such a thing, there was an undeniable attraction between Mary Margaret and her brother. With a feeling of smug satisfaction, she directed the family into the dining room, being careful to seat Paddy and Mary Margaret side-by-side.
Once the children were settled around the table and Rogan had said grace, Kiara passed the stew to her husband. “Would ya be so kind as ta serve?”
“Aye,” he replied, taking the bowls as she handed them to him. “So ya had a busy day did ya?” he asked Paddy while ladling stew into one of the white stoneware bowls.
“That we did. I knew ’twould be busy, but Mr. Wainwright unexpectedly came by to visit and completely ruined my schedule. Na that I wasn’t pleased ta see him, mind ya,” he quickly added.
“And what brought McKinley Wainwright to the horse farm?” Rogan inquired as he finished serving the stew.
“He had a telegram from Mr. Houston and wanted to tell me that they’re on their way home.”
Kiara handed the plate of bread to her husband. “That’s wonderful news ta be hearin’. I’ve missed my visits with Jasmine. When will they be arrivin’?”
“They didn’t say exactly. Mr. Houston told me the telegram seemed somewhat strange—as though they were afraid to give details.”
“Why would they be afraid ta say when they’re comin’ home?” Kiara asked.
Paddy shrugged. “The telegram said they’d met with some kind of difficulty. They didn’t say what and they didn’t say when they’d be here—just that they were on the way and anxious to be home.”
“Those people down South probably give them a hard time for not believing in slavery or some such thing,” Rogan said.
“I’m hoping they’ll be back before there’s further negotiating to be done with the customers,” Paddy said.
“Kiara tells me that ya’ve done an excellent job taking over for Mr. Houston during his absence,” Mary Margaret said, “and ya’ve shown a deep kindness toward the customers ya’ve been dealing with.”
“Has she now?” Paddy asked as he gave his sister a suspicious look.
Kiara jumped to her feet before her brother could say anything further. “I’m guessing ya all would like a piece of apple cake. I’ll be off ta the kitchen for only a wee bit.”
“Let me help,” Mary Margaret offered.
Paddy pushed back his chair. “Ya should na be helping, Mary Margaret. Ya’re a guest. I’ll be pleased ta lend a hand.”
Kiara wilted. She knew she’d catch an earful as soon as they were in the other room unless she immediately took the offensive. “I was telling Bridgett of your accomplishments with the gentlemen from West Point,” she started as soon as they were out of earshot, “and Mary Margaret merely overheard the conversation. Do na think I spend my time telling of my brother’s accomplishments to all who will listen.”
“Ya do na fool me even a wee bit, Kiara. It’s matchmaking ya’re trying yar hand at, and I do na need help finding a lass—if I’ve a mind to.”
“I see little evidence of that! Ya keep ta yarself like a hermit. Mary Margaret is a fine lass, and ya could do no better even if ya tried on yar own.”
“She’s nice enough,” he admitted.
“Then go out there and talk to her,” Kiara said. “I’m capable of servin’ cake on me own, ya know.”
“I do na need yar meddling. Nor do I like it.”
“Off with ya and take the cake platter with ya. And talk to her,” she hissed as they walked through the doorway.
“Mary Margaret tells me she’s on the committee to help with the St. Patrick’s Day dance,” Rogan said before taking a bite of the cake.
“From the sounds of things, ’tis going to be a fine celebration,” Kiara said. “Paddy’s helping with some of the festivities also. Aren’t ya, Paddy?” she urged.
“Aye.”
“And how are the plans coming?” Kiara asked, wishing she could kick him under the table.
“Fine.”
She sighed. Obviously Paddy was going to do his best to prove that he didn’t want her assistance. By the time they’d finished supper and visited for a short time, she knew her assessment was correct. Paddy hadn’t entered into the conversation except when absolutely required.
“It has been a lovely evening, but I must be getting back to the boardinghouse,” Mary Margaret finally announced.
“I’m supposin’ Paddy would be willing to drive ya back,” Rogan said without waiting for Paddy to comment. “The buggy’s out front.”
Paddy nodded his agreement, clearly unwilling to cause Mary Margaret any embarrassment by refusing Rogan’s request.
Mary Margaret settled into the leather buggy seat and attempted to hide her delight. From the moment he had entered the dining room with his damp black curls clinging to his forehead, she had longed to spend at least a few moments alone with Paddy. He’d been particularly quiet during the evening, but now she would have the entire ride back to the boardinghouse to visit with him.
“I do hope ya do na find this too much of an inconvenience,” she said as he sat down beside her.
He unwound the reins and flicked them with a practiced ease. “I do na mind—my day has been filled by one unexpected event after another—the evening should be no different.”
“I do na know if I should consider that good or bad,” she said quietly.
He glanced in her direction and then gave her a lopsided grin. “ ’Tis na a bad thing, just unexpected.”
“ ’Twas nice to spend the evening with your sister’s family—she’s very kind.”
“Aye. A wee bit meddlesome from time ta time, but there’s no denying she’s got a good heart.” A moment passed, quiet but for the creaking leather and horses’ hooves. “Do ya still like livin’ in the boardinghouse?”
“ ’Tis fine, though things are becomin’ difficult in the mills. Many of the girls have lost their jobs, and it does na look as though things are going ta get much better in the near future.”
“Aye, so I’ve been told. The men are suffering as well. This downturn in the economy has many facin’ difficult situations.”
“At least my mind is na on the economy when I’m helpin’ to plan the dance,” she said. “We all have fun while we’re at the meetings and do na discuss our work and such. Is it the same with the men? When ya’re planning the parade?”
“Aye—’tis a good place ta forget yar worries,” he agreed. Paddy gave her a sidelong glance. “So what kind of plans do ya lasses have? Are ya plannin’ something more than in the past?”
“For the dance? The plans seem no different than for most parties. Most of the ladies only say that they’re looking forward to an evening of dancing and hoping that there are enough men to dance with. They hope, too, that the downturn does na spoil the festivities.”
“I think it would take more than the economy to ruin St. Patrick’s Day.”
Mary Margaret nodded. “Some of the girls I work with who live in the Acre have already bought fabric to make their dresses. They said they’d do without other things before they’d go without a new dress for the dance.”
The dance. It seemed as if every conversation with Mary Margaret turned into talk of the dance. He didn’t know why he hadn’t yet asked her—after all, she was a pretty lass with a sweet smile, and she would likely say yes. And it wasn’t as though he had anyone else whom he wished to escort. After all, if he waited much longer, someone else might ask her. Quite obviously, there was no reason to delay.
He pulled back on the reins as they neared the boardinghouse. When the buggy came to a halt, he turned to face her. “I was wondering . . . if ya might . . .” he haltingly began. “That is ta say, if ya do na already have plans . . .” He hesitated once again.
“Yes?” she asked encouragingly.
“Do ya think ya might . . . like ta—” he swallowed hard—“go ta the dance with m-me?” he finally stammered.
“Aye, that I would!”
She replied so quickly it nearly took his breath away. “Ya would?”
“Of course I would. I was hoping for an invitation— from you,” she hastily added.
“Then I suppose it’s settled,” he said as he walked her to the door.
“Aye, that it is,” she replied sweetly before disappearing behind the door of the boardinghouse.
Paddy hoisted himself onto the buggy seat and flicked the reins. For a brief moment he was proud of himself—pleased he’d had the courage to ask Mary Margaret to the dance and that she had so readily accepted. Yet his thoughts quickly returned to previous conversations with the lass. There was no denying her beauty and the fact that she could be pleasant. On the other hand, she had a stubborn streak a mile wide and a large portion of unbridled determination. She reminded him of his sister! And unlike Rogan, he wasn’t certain he could tame Miss Mary Margaret O’Flannery!
“I hope I’ve na made a mistake this evenin’,” he muttered.
CHAPTER • 18
March 1858
FEELING SOMEWHAT uncomfortable, Elinor rapped on the front door of the parsonage. Somehow it seemed improper to be calling on the pastor. Yet when she’d mentioned the need to discuss issues regarding the benevolence fund as she exited church earlier in the day, Pastor Chamberlain had suggested she stop by the parsonage so they could discuss the matter in private. Of course, Reggie would be present, yet if any of the church ladies discovered Elinor was making a personal call upon the pastor, there was little doubt she’d be the topic of discussion for weeks to come—or at least until some other matter captured their interest.
“Mrs. Brighton! Come in, please,” Reggie said with an infectious smile.
“Thank you, Reggie. And may I say that your manners are quite lovely today.”
She giggled. “Father didn’t tell me you were coming to visit.”
“Perhaps he wanted to surprise you.”
“Exactly!” Justin said as he entered the hallway. “Good to see you, Elinor. Why don’t we go into the parlor. I do hope it wasn’t an inconvenience asking you to come here. I had several matters that needed my attention,” he added as he led her into the sitting room.
“Of course not. I enjoy a change of scenery, and it’s always nice to spend time with Reggie.”
Reggie plopped down beside their guest and scooted close.
“Reggie, I need to speak privately with Mrs. Brighton. Could you leave us for a short time?” her father asked.
The girl frowned momentarily, then brightened. “I’ll fix us tea. Would that be good?”
“That would be wonderful,” her father replied. “By the time you serve tea, we should be through with our discussion.”
Elinor stared after Reggie as the girl hurried off to the kitchen. “She’s turning into quite the little lady, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely, and I have you to thank for the dramatic changes in her. I truly don’t know how you’ve worked such wonders. I knew Reggie needed a woman’s influence in her life, yet I was perplexed as to how to find someone willing to take on the challenge. The moment you entered her life and began tutoring her in proper manners and etiquette, she was receptive. Tell me, how have you done it?”
“I’ve not attempted to change Reggie. I’ve merely included her in my life. The transformation that has taken place is of Reggie’s own doing. Change usually occurs when a person is truly desirous of doing so, not when one is forced by others. Don’t you think?”
Justin nodded. “The old adage of leading a horse to water?”
“I believe so. In any event, Reggie seems receptive to having a woman in her life, and I’m confident she will accept your new wife with enthusiasm. At least I’ve encouraged her to do so. I might add that I’m looking forward to meeting your fiancée as well.”
“As am I,” Justin said with a startled look on his face. “Wherever did you get the notion that I plan to wed?”
Elinor hesitated. She didn’t want to say anything that would cause Reggie a problem, yet she needed to reply. “Well, I-I . . .”
“No need to say any more. The church ladies must have been gossiping again,” he concluded. “You can disregard anything you’ve heard. I have not made any plans to marry. I’m truly astonished at some of the stories that have circulated since our arrival.”
“No doubt,” she said as a surprising sense of pleasure flooded over her. She was actually delighted to hear Justin Chamberlain had no wedding plans. Yet the thought frightened her. Never again did she want to have feelings of love for another man. Long ago she had vowed she would not go through the pain of losing one more husband. Yet her heart had quickened at his words, and she enjoyed his company far too much. Was she becoming like some of those church ladies who were secretly hoping to find themselves a husband? At the thought, she felt the heat rush to her cheeks.
“Is it overly warm in here? You suddenly appear flushed—I do hope you’re not becoming ill. I shouldn’t have requested that you walk over here in this cold weather,” he said.
“No, I’m fine, thank you. Don’t concern yourself. Now then, I believe we were going to discuss the benevolence fund.”
“Ah, yes. You mentioned you’ve had additional applicants.”
“Indeed. I have three girls who have come to me—two from other boardinghouses and one from my own. I believe their requests are valid. They’ve all shown me their separation papers from the mill. I had hoped to refrain from using the benevolence fund until it had grown larger; in fact, I had been using my own savings to help some of the girls. However, I fear I used the last of my funds this week.”
“By all means, we’ll see that they receive assistance. If you’ll give me the information, I’ll withdraw the funds. But it would likely be less embarrassing for the girls if you delivered the money.”
“I’d be happy to do so,” Elinor replied. “I also received word this week that my boardinghouse may close. Since I’ve used all of my resources, I’ll likely be required to leave Lowell.”
“Leave Lowell? Where would you go?”
“My brother Taylor and his family are in Maine. They would welcome me,” she said. “I surely find that God sometimes has a strange sense of humor. I had hoped to help others not lose their homes, yet in the process it appears as if I’ll lose my own.”
“We must put this matter to prayer,” Justin said. “I can’t believe that you are meant to leave Lowell.”
“Leave?” Reggie screeched. “Where are you going?” she asked, dropping the tea tray onto the table.
Elinor quickly leaned forward and placed a hand on the teetering china. “It’s not definite yet, Reggie. That’s why I hadn’t told you. I received word this week that my boardinghouse may be closed—I don’t know when it may occur. I’m praying it won’t happen at all.”
“Absolutely. We must all pray for intervention,” Justin stated.
Reggie ignored her father’s remark. “Would you go to Maine and live with your brother?”
“Yes, if the boardinghouse closes. But I don’t—”
“You said you didn’t want to go there,” Reggie said without waiting for Elinor’s full reply.
“That’s true; I don’t. But if the boardinghouse—”
“You could come and live with us. Couldn’t she, Father?” Her eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“I couldn’t possibly do that, Reggie,” Elinor said. “My family would expect me to come to Maine.”
“It doesn’t matter what they expect. You should be able to stay here if you want. Shouldn’t she, Father?”
“Well, yes,” Justin replied. “And we are going to pray about the situation, Reggie,” he promised.
“I’m sorry to upset you, Reggie. I hadn’t planned for you to hear me. There’s no need to upset yourself, for it’s still uncertain whether I’ll have to move. Why don’t we have our tea? Did you bake those fine-looking cookies all by yourself?”
Reggie nodded, but there was no smile. “It’s your recipe for lemon cookies.”
“Then I must have one.” Elinor took a bite of the cookie, chewing slowly and nodding approvingly while Reggie watched. “I believe they’re even better than the ones I bake.”
“Truly?” Reggie asked with a grin.
“Truly! They are excellent. You should be most proud of yourself, young lady.”
When they had finished their tea, Elinor patted Reggie’s hand. “I would be quite pleased if you’d walk me home and stay for supper.”
“May I, Father?”
“Yes, of course. Though I must say I’m a bit envious.”
