Sister's Choice Page 19

True to her word, Mama was understanding!

  “Your father and I see that you are probably Tommy’s only friend besides Zack, and we couldn’t be so cruel as to cut him off from that. But do be careful, Maggie. People talk, and reputations can be ruined. That is just a fact of life. Please make sure Evan or someone is always with you when you are with Tommy. It isn’t that we don’t trust him or you, but tongues wag.”

  “I know that, and I will be careful.”

  Maggie snuggled up closer to her mother, and Mama’s arm around her tightened. It had been a long time since she had felt so close to her mother, physically and in her heart, as well.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Ada gazed out the kitchen window. The slanting of the afternoon sun showed more clearly than ever that the leaves on the willow tree in the front yard were starting to turn. The seasons came and went with an unrelenting regularity. Sometimes she wished she could stop or slow them for a while, but where would she have stopped them? Would she return to last spring when she was worried about her daughters getting married? Or before then when the children were young and she worried about them getting good marks in school, getting along with their friends, and building a good foundation of faith? Perhaps she would go back to when they were babes in arms or wee toddlers?

  Each season of life had its appeal, to be certain, but also its drawbacks. When her children were babies, Ada had had to work like a slave, caring for their needs and the unceasing demands of the household. She now realized she had not been able to fully appreciate her sweet babies because of all the work needing to be done. When they were in school, she and Calvin had borne the responsibility of making sure their children grew up to be decent, God-fearing adults. And now that three of them were adults, the burden remained, didn’t it?

  Of course they trusted God in all these things and derived strength and wisdom from Him, knowing He shouldered the burden with them. Yet they were still the parents, ordained by God to guide their children in life’s journey.

  Ada sighed.

  “Is something wrong, Ada?” Mama Spooner asked, snapping beans for supper.

  Ada had almost forgotten she was there. “There really shouldn’t be,” Ada replied. “I had the most wonderful exchange with Maggie the other day. It truly lifted my spirits. Perhaps it is just seeing the leaves start to turn and knowing that winter is on the way.”

  “You never did like winter much,” Mama said. “I always enjoyed the brisk air, the rain, and especially the clean covering of snow.”

  “And the perpetually gray skies?”

  “They make the evergreens more vivid,” Mama replied with a smug grin.

  Ada dried her hands on a tea towel and sat at the table across from where her mother worked. Her darning basket was close by, and she drew it to her. She would never dream of sitting without something to keep her hands busy. After pulling out a sock with a big hole in the heel, she threaded a needle and set her darning egg in place.

  “Mama, I do appreciate how you always look on the bright side of things,” Ada commented. “I suppose what I am really feeling is just how quickly time is passing. Boyd will be married in a few weeks, then Ellie will surely follow soon, even if it isn’t by Christmas. And at the rate Maggie is going, she won’t be far behind. Georgie turns fifteen soon and hardly needs me anymore. I’m not sure I am ready to be put out to pasture, to be useless. Is that how you felt when your children left home?”

  “I expect every mother feels that way. Our children are the center of our lives.”

  “I’ve always regretted that we don’t live closer to you, Mama.”

  “Well, it was your father and I who moved away. He couldn’t pass up the deal he got on the Deer Island farm. I have been there nigh onto twenty years now, and it is home to me.”

  “I do wish you’d come live with us,” said Ada.

  Mama shook her head, but there was a tiny hint of regret in her expression. “As I said, Deer Island is my home now. Homer and Opal live near and would feel slighted if I moved.”

  “You’ve said they hardly ever come to see you,” countered Ada.

  “Opal is very sensitive about . . . well, most everything.”

  That was true. Mama’s daughter-in-law was as touchy as a she-bear guarding a hive. But soon Mama would have to move in with one of her children, and it was a sure bet Opal would find an excuse not to have her. Perhaps then Mama would move back to Maintown. Calvin could build an extra room on the main floor so Mama wouldn’t have to climb the stairs. Ada was surprised at how much she was looking forward to this, although it meant her mother would not be as healthy as she was now. Perhaps Ada was just hoping for someone to care for after her children left.

  The knock on the front door gave her a start. She wasn’t expecting visitors, though uninvited guests were not unheard of. She set aside her sewing and rose.

  She wasn’t surprised to find Evan Parker standing at the door. He was coming by often lately. Dancing lessons two weeks ago, a Sunday picnic, parties . . . It had perplexed Ada until her conversation with Maggie Saturday. Now she understood the reason for the visits.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Newcomb,” he said, doffing his Derby hat, which slipped from his hand. He tried to grasp it midair, missed, and lost his balance, nearly colliding with Ada before he caught his balance on the doorjamb. “Oh, dear me . . . please, excuse me . . . I’m terribly sorry.”

  Ada felt sorry for the young man. He tried so hard to be polite and proper. Too bad what he gained there he lost because of his two left feet. How had Maggie ever managed to teach him to dance!

  “Come in, Evan,” Ada said, stifling a smile.

  “I don’t wish to trouble you—”

  “I know you must be looking for Maggie, but she isn’t here.”

  The stark look of disappointment on Evan’s face surprised Ada. “Come on in. You have ridden a ways, and I can at least offer you some cider.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and politely greeted Ada’s mother, this time without mishap. He sat in a chair at the table, and Ada brought him a glass of cool cider.

  “We have had a bumper crop of apples this year,” Ada said. “And they are especially sweet.”

  Evan took a sip from his glass. “This is excellent.”

  “How is your family, Evan?” Mama Spooner asked.

  “They are well. Thank you for inquiring. Mother had a touch of ague last week but has fully recovered.”

  “We are happy to hear it,” Ada said. “All the excitement of so many parties lately must have overtaxed her.”

  “I don’t remember Maintown being such a social hub of activity,” he said.

  “Nevertheless it must be rather dull here after Boston.”

  “I am enjoying it here immensely.” He paused and took another drink of his cider. “Might I ask, that is . . . would Maggie be close by? I wanted to speak with her about Tommy.”

  “As a matter of fact, she isn’t far. She and her sister are down by the east pasture picking huckleberries.” When he brightened considerably at this, Ada added, “You could find them easily enough.”

  “I should like that—I mean . . . I might go down there . . . that is, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’ll give you a bucket if you like, and you can help them.” Ada rose, went to a cupboard, and took out a pail.

  “Oh, okay, grand . . . wonderful.” Evan drained off the last of his cider and took the pail. “Thank you very much.” He rose, nearly knocking over his chair in his sudden haste.

  But he managed to exit the house without further mishap.

  Ada looked at her mother and gave an amused roll of her eyes. “I don’t know how much time I spent when Boyd was young trying to get him not to make fun of Evan Parker. But, goodness! I can rather see why the boys did so.”

  “Looks to me like he is a bit taken with Maggie,” Mama commented.

  “What?” Ada laughed and felt suddenly quite pleased that she fin
ally knew the way of things. “According to Maggie, Evan is smitten with Tamara Brennan.”

  “Humm,” Mama mused. “I guess my old eyes are deceiving me.”

  Maggie looked into her pail and saw it was only half full. Huckleberries were tedious to pick, and Mama didn’t like when there were a bunch of small leaves mixed in with the berries. But they were worth the work. Maggie liked them better than blueberries. Besides, she was happy to be out of doors. She could feel autumn in the air, and knew the warm days of summer were drawing to a close.

  “So, Maggie,” Ellie said, working beside her sister, “how are things going with Colby? We haven’t talked about it for a while.”

  “There’s really nothing to talk about.” Maggie spied a nice ripe clump of berries and reached deep within the bush. “Nothing much is happening. Colby is so busy with the farm since his father became ill, I hardly have a chance to see him.” She wondered if she should tell Ellie about the kiss, but as time had passed that seemingly momentous kiss had become almost insignificant. “I suppose romance isn’t foremost in his mind right now.”

  “Not with Tamara, then, either?”

  “I hope not. I am doing all I can without looking like a brazen hussy.” Maggie dropped a handful of berries into her pail, then paused to remove several leaves. “Anything new with you?”

  “Well, Zack and I decided for certain there will be no Christmas wedding.”

  “What? And you said nothing?”

  “I’m saying something now.” Ellie sighed. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you a couple days ago after Zack and I talked about it. I guess I’m not entirely sure about it. Waiting is scary. A lot can happen in nine months till summer.”

  “You will never have to worry about Zack,” Maggie said unequivocally. “He loves you completely. Seeing you two gives me hope to persevere with all this romantic business. To have what you have . . .” Maggie sighed dreamily, and oddly, no picture of Colby popped into her mind just then. Shouldn’t she be daydreaming of him?

  “There is another reason for us to wait,” Ellie went on. “Zack is still seeking God about whether to enter the ministry. Everyone keeps telling him he should if he ‘feels the call.’ But he doesn’t know if he feels it. I’ve been a Christian a long time, and understanding God’s will is still confusing to me.”

  “It has always seemed to me,” Maggie offered, “that short of a burning bush or something, the only way to know God’s will is just to set about what you think you ought to do and trust God to lead you in the right direction. I remember something from one of Zack’s sermons. It was that God can’t direct a stationary object. You’ve got to be moving. It was a sermon he preached on faith.”

  “Well, aren’t you a font of wisdom,” Ellie said, partly with good-natured mockery but mostly with admiration.

  “It’s what Dad calls horse sense,” Maggie rejoined, a little embarrassed but also pleased she had impressed her big sister.

  Maggie heard the sound of a horse picking its way through the pasture grass and saw a Derby hat bobbing above the huckleberry bushes. A little thrill ran through her.

  “Hi, Evan,” she called. “We’re over here.”

  Evan heard her voice and smiled, well, more like grinned foolishly. He hoped she hadn’t seen, but he couldn’t help it. He led his horse along the scruffy path around the bushes. He was getting more comfortable with riding but still had a time making his mount accept that he was the one in control. His classmates at Harvard had sometimes gone riding on the paths along the Charles River, but he had always been too busy studying, not that he was ever invited along. To them he was good only for tutoring, not for socializing.

  When he reached the spot where Maggie and her sister were picking berries, he reined his mount, an ornery mare named Daisy, to a rather ungracious stop. He didn’t know why she was unwilling to halt until he saw too late a bee winging toward them right in Daisy’s line of vision. The animal whinnied and reared while Evan frantically tried to keep hold of both his seat and the reins.

  “Whoa!” he jerked on the reins, perhaps too hard, for Daisy danced sideways and reared again.

  Maggie leaped forward and grabbed Daisy’s halter with a firm, sure hand, and the animal responded to her almost immediately. “There, there, girl,” she said soothingly. “What’s got your dander up?”

  “I think a bee spooked her,” Evan offered, hoping to deflect his humiliation onto the bee. He took advantage of Daisy’s calm to dismount, trying to do so in a more polished manner than his entrance had been. His foot caught briefly on the stirrup, but he managed to reach the ground safely.

  Maggie seemed to be stifling a smile as she answered earnestly, “I’m familiar with Daisy’s reputation. Your mother has many stories of that animal’s mischief.”

  Evan tied the rein to a stout bush branch and then doffed his hat, already sitting askew on his head. “Well, then, hello, ladies.”

  After greetings were exchanged, Maggie asked, “What brings you out this way?”

  “Your mother said I might find you here. I have some news I just couldn’t wait to tell you.”

  “Good news, I hope,” Maggie replied.

  “I think so,” he said. “I have found someone who saw Tom Donnelly beat Tommy!”

  “Oh, Evan, that is good news! I knew you were a genius!” Maggie dropped her berry pail and flung her arms around him.

  Before Evan could get up the nerve to return the embrace, his arms dangling impotently at his sides, she had stepped back. Maybe he would never know what it would feel like to hold her in his arms. That dulled his enthusiasm over his news.

  “Is something wrong, Evan?” she asked.

  “No . . . nothing . . . nothing at all,” he fumbled.

  “So who did you find?”

  “Hal Fergus. He said he went up there once because he’d heard Tom had won some money at poker in St. Helens, and he wanted to collect a debt Tom owed him before he spent the money. Anyway, he found Tom punching Tommy like they were in a fistfight, only Tommy wasn’t fighting back. He had his arms up trying to protect his face. It was entirely one-sided, according to Mr. Fergus. For the first time since I took this case, I feel truly confident of winning.”

  “You will win, I have no doubt. Have you told Tommy?”

  “I’ll go into St. Helens tomorrow.”

  “Would it be okay if I went with you? I’d sure like to see his face when you tell him.”

  “I’d . . . that is . . . he’d love it, I’m sure.”

  “Do you have enough witnesses? You haven’t spoken to my parents yet, have you?”

  Evan realized then that he had intended to ask Mrs. New-comb when he was there if she and her husband could speak with him regarding Tommy. But he’d been so flustered, so worried about making the proper impression on not only Maggie’s mother but her grandmother, as well, that he’d completely forgotten Tommy. He still wasn’t certain he had a prayer of winning Maggie, but he did know that if he did, it was only half the battle. Her parents would have to be won over, too, and that was going to be even more difficult considering the silly feud between Mrs. Newcomb and his mother. He knew that was why he got so clumsy and foolish around Maggie’s mother, and probably why he had put off consulting with them about the case. Mrs. Newcomb had never done anything to indicate that the rivalry between the two women extended beyond them to their families, but the prospect of a Parker for a son-in-law certainly would not go down easily.

  “I must do that,” Evan replied with resignation.

  “Say, Evan,” Ellie spoke up. He’d almost forgotten her presence. “Why don’t you come to supper tonight?”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Maggie said. “You can talk to them then, and tomorrow there might even be more good news for Tommy.”

  “Your mother won’t mind an unexpected guest?” he asked.

  “You know better than that,” said Maggie. “Would you like to pass the time helping us pick berries?” She eyed the pail still hanging fro
m Daisy’s saddle.

  “Your mother gave me the pail, and normally I would enjoy that,” he said, “but I should probably go home and freshen up before supper. I have been riding all day speaking to folks about Tommy’s case.”

  He left out the fact that the recent mishap with Daisy hadn’t been the first of the day. He’d actually fallen off once when a garter snake had spooked her. It might not be immediately noticeable, but he felt somewhat worse for the wear. He wanted to be at his best for this supper. Though it wasn’t his first meal with the Newcombs, it would be the first since he’d become certain that he loved their daughter. Impressing them was paramount, and he simply could not come to supper all dusty and sweaty from berry picking. Moreover there was the added pressure of having to prove to them that he was a success in his chosen occupation, especially when he wasn’t even sure of that himself.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The evening at the Newcombs’ immediately got off on the wrong foot. The moment Evan stepped into the house and saw the other men—Zack was there along with Mr. Newcomb and Georgie—he knew he’d overdone his dress.

  His black wool jacket and matching vest were cut short with narrow lapels according to the most current fashion, and with only the top button fastened on the jacket, his watch and chain, given to him by his father upon his graduation from Harvard, were nicely displayed. His trousers were a natty gray pinstripe. He’d labored long over his hair, using brilliantine liberally in an attempt to tame what he considered his most unprofessional curls.

  While gazing at his reflection in the mirror at home he’d begun to wish he could have taken a classmate’s advice back in Boston to grow a moustache. The fellow said it would help him look less like a rosy-cheeked youth and more like a formidable lawyer. But he’d never had much luck growing more than patchy facial hair, so he gave up the idea.

  Mr. Newcomb, Zack, and Georgie were dressed in work clothes—they had cleaned up after their day’s work, certainly, but they were still garbed in dungarees, coarse cotton shirts, and scuffed boots. Mr. Newcomb had on wide suspenders, and Zack wore a well-worn brown wool vest over his shirt. Evan suddenly felt like an undertaker next to them.