The Preacher's Wife. Cheryl St.John
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she invited the girls to eat in the study with the reverend. From the pleased look on his face, their young guests were just the medicine he needed. Several church members had been faithful visitors and he’d even held a Wednesday-evening study at the house the past few weeks, but months of pain and inactivity had grated on the man who was accustomed to being active and independent.
“Maybe there’s a skillful checker player in our midst today,” Josie suggested.
Reverend Martin’s amused gaze shot to hers. “Your implication has been recorded.”
Glad to see him in a cheerful mood, she laughed and a discussion of who would play checkers ensued. “Do you like bread pudding?” she finally asked to deter the subject.
“I love it,” Abigail replied. “Mama always made lemon sauce.”
“I think I’ll make a pan. Would you like to help? I’ll go home for my cookbook and find a recipe for lemon sauce.”
Abigail’s face lit up, but her glance edged to her older sister.
“What about going calling with Father?” Elisabeth asked.
“Papa said we could decide,” Abigail replied. “I want to stay here and bake.”
“Suit yourself. I’m going with Father.”
“Can I come to your house with you?” Anna asked.
“I’d love your company,” Josie replied. “It’s just a short walk.”
“Do you have a dog or a cat?”
Josie shook her head.
“I have Daisy,” Reverend Martin said. “Silly cat’s been hiding since yesterday.”
“You have a cat?” Anna asked.
“I’m guessing she’s in that bedroom there. She likes to lie on the window seat in the sun. I wouldn’t try to catch her. She might scratch you.”
A little while later, Anna enjoyed the yards they passed and asked about the neighbors. Once they reached Josie’s, she was fascinated by everything in the house, not touching, but commenting and asking questions.
“Did you live here when you were a little girl?” she asked.
“No,” Josie answered. “My father traveled a lot, and my mother and I often stayed at my grandmother’s.”
“How come you don’t have any little girls or boys?”
If Josie couldn’t answer that for herself, she certainly didn’t know how to explain it to a nine-year-old. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I just don’t.”
“Do you want a baby?”
Josie appreciated her innocent candor. She stopped in front of the cupboard where she’d gone to find a cookbook and looked down at Anna. “I wanted a baby very much,” she said honestly. “But I have friends and tasks to keep me busy, and I think about the good things I do have, rather than what I don’t have.”
“That’s prob’ly good,” Anna said convincingly. She watched Josie select a cookbook. “Was it hard to not think about your mama at first? ’Cause I think about my mama a lot, and it makes me sad.”
“I still think about her, but now I remember the time we spent together and the things she taught me. I’m still sad that I don’t have her, but missing her doesn’t hurt like it used to. It’s okay to be sad,” she assured the child. “We miss the people we love when they’re gone.”
Anna nodded solemnly.
Josie had the urge to lean down and hug the child, but Anna barely knew her, and Josie didn’t want to overstep. “Now let’s find a recipe that sounds like your mama’s lemon sauce.”
Anna smiled, revealing four new front teeth and a side one missing. She was naively honest, charmingly inquisitive and altogether adorable.
After searching and finding what they wanted, they returned to the reverend’s with the cookbook. Elisabeth immediately took Anna aside and spoke to her in soft tones Josie couldn’t hear.
Elisabeth hadn’t warmed to Josie, and it seemed she wasn’t comfortable with the fact that Anna had taken to her. Elisabeth got out a slate and chalk and helped Anna with numbers.
Some time later, Josie and Abigail were planning the evening meal when Samuel rode past the house on horseback. He had obviously bathed and shaved, and his neatly trimmed chestnut hair shone in the sunlight. He wore a new pair of denim trousers, a pale blue shirt and a string tie.
He led the animal into the enclosure and headed toward the house. Josie turned her attention to their list until the pleasing scents of sun-dried clothing and bay rum reached her. Abigail shot across the room to hug him. The holster and revolver still hung at his hip.
He met her gaze, so she asked, “Have you eaten?”
“Haven’t had time to think about food, truthfully.”
“I’ll make you something you can take along.”
“That’s kind of you. Who’s coming with me?”
“Elisabeth,” Abigail answered. “I’m going to help Mrs. Randolph make bread pudding. We have a recipe for lemon sauce.”
“That’s fine.” Samuel nodded. “And you’ll work on your studies. Run and fetch Elisabeth for me, please. Where’s Anna?”
“She found Reverend Martin’s cat,” Abigail answered on her way toward the hall. “Right now she’s watching it sun itself.”
One corner of his mouth inched up, and Josie found herself intrigued by the possibility of a smile on his clean-shaven face.
He looked back and found her gaze on him. “Would you prefer I take Anna along, since Elisabeth won’t be here to look after her?”
“Anna’s no trouble,” she replied. “If she wants to stay, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Randolph.”
“Would you mind calling me Josie? When I hear you say Mrs. Randolph I look for my mother-in-law—a fine woman of God,” she clarified quickly.
He raised his chin in half a nod.
She sliced bread and made a sandwich that she wrapped and handed to him. “There’s a basket of apples just inside the pantry if you’d like to take a couple. You and Elisabeth might get hungry before you return.”
He accepted the sandwich and met her gaze. His eyes were the color of glistening sap on a maple tree. The degree of sadness and disillusionment she read in their depths never failed to touch her. She wished she could do something that would remove that look.
“Your kindness is what my daughters need right now, Josie.” They were alone in the kitchen, yet he spoke softly as though he didn’t want to be overheard. “They’ve been through a lot.” He paused and his throat worked.
His loss was so recent, his pain so fresh. He’d obviously loved his wife very much. Josie didn’t presume to know how the man felt, and she knew words wouldn’t help right now. She understood and respected his grief.
She found her voice. “They’re lovely children, Reverend.”
“Every time I look at them, I see how fragile they are. How young and…” Samuel glanced away. “And vulnerable. They’re hurting.” He drew his gaze back to hers. “Elisabeth is handling it her own way, and I know she’s difficult. But…well, thank you for understanding.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence.”
Samuel’s eyes showed a spark of interest. “What do you mean?”
Chapter Four
“You’re here for a reason,”