Chastity's Angel Page 8

  "Like a gentleman, of course."

  Emma stalked to the stove, checking to see if the kettle had boiled. "You are so dense sometimes."

  Chastity looked down. She knew what Emma was getting at, but she didn't want to think about it. His devotion to her memory made her uncomfortable. The sketches in her hand provided the perfect escape. "Here—look at these."

  Emma snatched them from her hand, looking at one and then the other, then tossing them on the table. "So you played in the water with Ellen."

  Chastity chuckled. "What did you expect?" Before Emma could answer, she hurried on. "How was Mother?"

  Emma lifted her shoulders in a deep sigh. "She's fine. Helped me ice the cakes and mix the potato salad."

  Chastity opened her mouth to protest, but Emma lifted a hand to stop her. "I put everything on the table within reach. Chastity, she needs to know she's needed and that we appreciate her help."

  Chastity nodded. "But every time I allow her to do something, she overdoes it."

  "I know. But she's learned her lesson. All she wants to do now is get better. I'm sure she'll do whatever she must."

  "She said all that?"

  Emma shrugged. "Sort of."

  "Where is she now?"

  Emma pressed her hand to her mouth. "Whoops. I forgot to tell you Michael is here already. She's visiting with him in the sitting room."

  Chastity groaned. She wanted to change her clothes and wash off the sand and dust. Then the meal needed to be prepared. "What still needs to be done?"

  "Everything's ready and keeping warm in the oven. I just have to make the tea and put out the food."

  "Give me a minute to change. I'll let Mother and Michael know I'm home. Then I'll give you a hand." She paused at the door. "Didn't you have plans for tonight?"

  Emma nodded. "Pastor Simpson and Miss Martha have invited half a dozen of us over to meet a cousin of theirs or something." She wrinkled her nose. "Probably some old codger, but I promised Dorothy I'd go with her."

  Chastity nodded. "There's no need for you to stay. Run along and enjoy your evening."

  Emma shook her head. "I have lots of time. I'll help clean up the meal before I leave."

  "Emma, you're a gem. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  Emma gave her a mischievous look. "You could ask Stella back."

  Remembering those first days of Stella's criticism and refusal to accept Chastity's authority, Chastity shuddered. "I'm grateful to say she would never consider it." She hurried down the hall. "I'll be right back."

  A few minutes later everything was served. Beryl and Louise were out, having gone with their beaus; the Knutsen boys had left after work for a visit to the farm; and John was absent. But the rest settled around the table.

  Mrs. B leaned over to Mother. "Your girl is back. Where did you say she was?"

  "She went to Sheep Falls!" the younger woman yelled close to Mrs. B's ear.

  Mrs. B looked annoyed. "What does she want with balls?"

  "Not balls, Sheep Falls."

  "What difference does it make if they are cheap?" She shook her head. "You better keep an eye on her, Marie." She unfolded her napkin on her lap and sat up straight, waiting for a signal to begin eating.

  Mother laughed, winking at Chastity. "I do my best, Ida." But everyone knew the comment was not for Mrs. B's ears. "Now let's pray." She took Chastity's hand, giving it a little squeeze, taking away any sting Mrs. B's words might have carried.

  Chastity bowed her head, silently thanking God for His bountiful provision, adding a special thanks for her dear mother who made life special.

  Mother murmured, "Amen."

  For several minutes conversation was confined to getting the food passed around the table. When the bowls and platters had circled the table, Roy leaned around Michael.

  "Were you able to estimate the height of the falls?"

  Chastity shook her head. "No, Roy, but we did climb to the top of them."

  "Did it take long?"

  "It didn't seem long. I guess I never paid it much mind."

  Emma grinned. "She had other things on her mind."

  Michael stiffened, and Chastity glowered at Emma.

  Mr. Elias leaned forward. "I expect Adam could answer your questions, Roy. He's a knowledgeable young man with a head for learning."

  Satisfied, Roy leaned back. "Yes, I'll ask him." He glanced at Chastity. "Though I can't understand how someone could go there and not notice anything about it."

  Chastity laughed out loud. "I noticed lots of things, Roy. I just didn't measure anything."

  "It's all the same," Roy said, frowning. "Isn't it?"

  Still smiling, Chastity shook her head. "Not necessarily. For instance, I noticed how the mist from the falls made rainbows over the water. I noticed the way the flowers and vines clung to the wet rocks. I saw how the tumbling water churned around the rocks in a magical dance."

  "How much water do you think flows over every minute?"

  Chuckling, Chastity shook her head. "I have no idea. How would one even measure it?"

  Roy grew thoughtful. "You could set up—"

  Emma put her fork down and wrinkled her nose at Roy. "How would you expect her to care about scientific nonsense when she was with Adam? I tell you, I would have had my eyes on nothing else. Not even trees and flowers."

  Chastity glared at Emma, silently warning her to stop.

  "Now there's a young man with a bright future." Mr. Elias announced. "I assure you he will go a long way."

  Michael held his fork halfway to his mouth and said, "Seems he's gone a long way already. The Yukon, Alaska—where else did he say he went?"

  Roy supplied the answer. "He made the thousand-mile trip down the inside passage and then explored the islands of the passage."

  "Thank you, Roy," Emma said. "I'm guessing he was more interested in the people and scenery than in how far it was from point A to point B."

  Roy drew back. "He's the one who told me this."

  Chastity jumped up. "He did a couple of sketches at the falls. I'll get them." She hurried to the kitchen to retrieve them, handing them to her mother to pass around.

  Mrs. B bent close to the one with Chastity in it. "Isn't this Chastity?" She looked across at Chastity as if she expected her to have sprouted a second head.

  "She went there this morning!" Mother shouted.

  "I know she wasn't here this morning. She was out playing ball." Mrs. B looked at the picture again. "Who are these girls playing in the water?"

  Rather than try to make her understand, Mother handed her the other sketch. "Sheep Falls," she yelled, pointing to the words Adam had penciled at the bottom of the page.

  Mrs. B studied the picture without comment before she handed it on.

  "He's a good artist," Emma said, handing the pages on to Mr. Elias.

  The pictures went around the table with no one arguing the point. Shortly afterward, the residents began to push away from the table. It didn't take long to clean up, and Emma was soon on her way.

  Chastity returned to the living room, where Michael sat visiting with Roy.

  "Let's go out on the veranda," she suggested.

  "Good idea." Michael sprang to his feet.

  The cool night air held a hint of moisture, taking her, despite herself, to thoughts of the afternoon spent at the falls. Deftly she pulled her thoughts away, turning them instead to the man beside her on the bench. "It's a lovely evening."

  "I guess sitting out here is rather dull after your outing this afternoon." His voice was mournful.

  "Oh, no. It's peaceful and calm, and I like that. Besides, it's far from dull. Look at the way the moon glistens off the leaves. What more could I ask for than to sit on my own back step and enjoy the evening?"

  He shifted about. "I've never taken you anywhere special." He cleared his throat. "I always thought you were content right here."

  She grabbed at his arm, anxious to clear up this misunderstanding. "I always have been. I still
am. I've never hankered after excitement." She wanted to tell him not to worry. The one thing she always enjoyed about her friendship with Michael was how comfortable they were together. Not like Adam. She jerked her thoughts back. He shouldn't have bothered to come back. All he'd done was disrupt her life. She wouldn't think of him anymore. Not with Michael beside her wondering if he had failed.

  "He's full of adventure," Michael said, "and tales of faraway places."

  "Yes, he is. He has wonderful stories."

  "And he's very artistic."

  "Yes, he's that too." It felt like an argument with herself. He was all of these things, but—"I'm not looking for instability."

  "I suppose he'll be around just long enough to turn everything upside down, and then he'll leave."

  It was an echo of her own sentiments. "Some people prefer the predictable, the conventional."

  "Put that way, it sounds deadly dull."

  She squeezed his arm. "I don't mean dull. I mean stable and secure—knowing the one you love will walk through the door every day and sit across the table from you each meal. And be there every morning, every night. Go to church with you every Sunday."

  At first, Michael didn't answer. Then he covered her hand with his own. "Have you fallen in love with Adam?"

  She jumped to her feet, facing him in the cold moonlight. "Didn't you hear a word I said? He's not my sort. I don't want the kind of life he'd want. I want a home and stability. I want—" Breathless, she broke off and dropped down beside him again, her voice falling to a whisper. "I want a real home, a real family. I don't want to end up like Mother, alone in a big house that isn't even a home."

  He took her hand and tucked it around his arm, holding her close to his side, and she relaxed, content to enjoy the comfort of his presence.

  After some moments he broke the peaceful silence between them. "I'm not arguing with you, but I don't think you need to feel sorry about how your mother's lived her life. She seems very happy with her lot."

  "I know. But I've always dreamed of more." In her mind she stood at the white picket fence looking at the little house and its pleasant yard. She laughed a little at the comparison. "Maybe I should say I've dreamed of something less-—a little house of my own rather than the boardinghouse."

  She could feel Michael nod. "Maybe it's time to think about fulfilling some of those dreams." His hand tightened around hers.

  She held her breath.

  "I always hoped we'd become more than friends." His warm breath flitted across her cheek, sending little thrills up and down her spine.

  She pulled in air, forcing it down into her lungs, telling herself to be calm. "You never said anything." She didn't succeed in keeping the quiver from her voice.

  He lifted their clasped hands a few inches. "I figured we'd grow close at our own rate."

  She wondered how long it would have taken for him to announce all this without Adam's arrival to speed him up. Another two years? Then, shamed at her unkindness, she squeezed his hand. "That's so thoughtful."

  "I believe in caution when it comes to relationships. They so often turn out to be something other than what we first thought."

  She sat back a little. His words sounded like a warning. Or perhaps bitter experience. Suddenly she realized how little she knew of him, considering the length of time they had known one another.

  "Did you have a relationship that went bad?" The words stuck in her throat, but she needed to understand him better.

  He stiffened, almost pulling his hand away, and then, changing his mind, squeezed her fingers. "I was speaking generally. When we're young we approach all relationships with a wide- eyed trust. Time teaches us to be more selective."

  He had avoided her question. The fact that he chose not to answer directly bothered her. She wanted him to trust her enough to be open and honest.

  "I think there's more to it than you're admitting." Her voice was low, her words gentle. Despite her desire for honesty between them, she didn't want to force him into a discussion he wished to avoid. "But I know you'll discuss it when you feel the time is right."

  Minutes passed. The pale moonlight cast gray shadows across the yard, ghostly suggestions of trees and objects. A cat howled. Somewhere a dog barked, the mournful sound echoing in her soul.

  "I did have a bad experience," Michael offered, his voice slow and silvery in the quiet. "I thought we had an understanding, but Miriam thought differently. She walked away without so much as a good-bye."

  She squeezed his hand. "Michael, I'm so sorry."

  "I got over it. I guess in a way I wasn't all that surprised."

  "Why didn't it surprise you?"

  He drew in a breath. "My parents never cared for me as much as my brother. I guess I didn't expect she would be any different."

  She gasped. "Miriam ran off with Timothy?"

  "That would have been poetic justice, don't you think?" His laugh was short and bitter. "No, it was someone else. But I guess it proved to me no one would ever care for me enough to love me unconditionally." His fingers tightened around her hand. "But in all the time I've known you, you have always been honest and true."

  "Thank you, Michael." A sliver of steel raced down her spine. She hoped she could live up to his expectations and never hurt his sensitive soul.

  Muffled sounds came from inside the house. The light in her mother's room came on.

  "I should go see if she needs any help." But she made no effort to remove her hand from where it rested on his arm, covered by his warm, possessive fingers. This new level of intimacy with Michael felt good and right.

  "Yes, I suppose I should be leaving." He slowly released her hand. "Would you like me to come by and walk you to church?"

  She restrained the desire to hug his arm. "That would be nice." They had sat together for months but always met at the church before the service. "Thank you." Her heart swelled.

  They looked into the moon-draped yard, but Chastity's thoughts were not on the scene; they were on the man at her side. She wondered if he was thinking about kissing her.

  "I'll see you tomorrow." He was gone, like a man fleeing from a ghost.

  Chastity smiled, understanding how difficult he found it to trust any sort of intimacy, knowing the progress made in their relationship tonight constituted a giant leap for him. It was enough for now. A beginning.

  She hurried indoors and down the hall.

  Mother was ensconced upon her pillows, the quilt folded neatly across her chest. "Hello, ma cherie. Michael has gone home?"

  Chastity nodded. "He's just left."

  Her mother patted a spot beside her on the bed. "Come here."

  It was a ritual as old as her life, and Chastity sat beside her on the covers. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm fine. I have to learn to be careful, that's all. Forget my old aches and pains. Tell me about your day."

  Chastity sighed. Where to begin?

  "How was your outing with Adam?"

  "The falls were lovely. Spectacular. Adam couldn't keep his pencil still."

  "He's always so full of the joy of life. It's as if he lives life with a wing and a song."

  "Mother," Chastity said, chuckling, "you've turned poetic."

  "Away with you now. I'm just making an observation." She rubbed her little ivory angel with one fingertip and continued. "Adam seems—he's such a gentleman. Always so kind to everyone from Mrs. Banner to Emma. Yet—" Again she paused.

  "Yet what?"

  "Maybe I see it only because I'm your mother." She let the ivory angel lie in her lap, holding it with fingers grown still.

  A heartbeat strumming behind her eyes, Chastity watched the still fingers, knowing it meant the problem had been sorted. Knowing, too, that her mother was pulling her thoughts into order, praying for wisdom before she spoke.

  "Adam appears to have a special regard for you."

  Chastity said nothing.

  "I realize it's none of my business, but has Adam spoken to you of his feelings?
Has he expressed more than casual interest?" She rushed on, not giving Chastity a chance to answer. "I mention this only because I wonder if I've prepared you adequately for such an event."

  Chastity laughed. "Are you talking of a man expressing interest? Because if you are, I learned to deal with that by the time I was fourteen years old."

  "Chastity!"

  "This place is hardly a convent."

  "I realize that, but you never told me anyone had ever been—" She stopped, searching for the word.

  "Inappropriate?" Chastity supplied.

  "Were they?"

  "Nothing that wasn't handled by a word or two. About all I had to say was, 'Shall I call my mother?' and the miscreant would turn tail and run." No need to mention some of the bigger boys at school who had proved slightly more difficult to dissuade. She was thankful God had always protected her.

  "There—you succeeded in making me forget what I was talking about. I suppose that was your intention."

  "Not at all. Should I be wanting to?"

  "Of course not. I was only wondering about Adam." Again she paused and then rushed on. "But don't feel you have to tell me if you don't wish to."

  But Chastity wanted very much to tell her mother. "He showed me a sketch of myself. You remember that one he did when I was twelve or thirteen?"

  "Vaguely."

  "He carried one like it with him all these years." Chastity repeated Adam's story, leaving out only the part where Adam said he'd carried her in his heart. Just thinking those words turned her head into a whirlwind of confusion. She knew she would choke if she tried to say them aloud.

  "Do you think he's interested in a special way?"

  Chastity pressed her finger to her chin. "He has no reason to think we're more than acquaintances."

  "I wonder if that makes a difference to a man who has thought of you with such high regard for so many years."

  Chastity let out her breath sharply. "I should think if he truly had feelings toward me, it wouldn't have taken ten years to return and speak of them."

  "I expect he thought of you as still being fourteen."

  Chastity refrained from mentioning one didn't have to be too bright to do the arithmetic. Instead she addressed the thing that carried the most importance. "It really doesn't matter because I have no desire to be a widow to a man's wanderlust. It isn't at all what I want."