City Girl (10 page)

Reagan managed to raise her head, but the rolls and other food were forgotten. No one had ever prayed for her before. She hadn't even known that a person could talk to God like that. If she hadn't known better, she'd have wondered if Russell might not be a man of the cloth.

“Would you like some potatoes, Miss Sullivan?” Elly was asking, and Reagan was jerked back to the present.

“Thank you,” she said, her head bent low to cover her red face. What had she done in those seconds of distracted concentration, and had this family noticed?

“I think I'll hold this chicken platter for you, Reagan,” Russell was saying. “It's rather hot.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and for more than one reason: It seemed they hadn't noticed anything odd in her behavior.

“How is work at the hotel, Reagan?” Holly asked when everyone had been served.

“Most days, it's fine.”

“Is that what you did in New York?”

“No. I worked at a factory. It was monotonous, but at least we had one day off a week.”

“That must have been nice,” Russell put in. “I'm not sure all factories do that.”

“No, they don't. Many of the girls in the boardinghouse worked seven days a week.”

“Where is your family?”

“They're all gone. I've been on my own for some time.”

“What do you do at the hotel?” Elly asked, and Reagan began to fill her in.

“And then today,” she concluded, her eyes rolling at the memory, “I needed to change my wash water when I was scrubbing pots, and I threw a bucket of water on a man in the alley.”

“Oh, no!” Elly gasped, her eyes large.

Reagan shook her head in self-deprecation.

“Was he angry?” This came from Jonah.

“No,” Russell answered, and all eyes turned to him.

“Did you see it happen?” Reagan asked.

“No, but the man was a friend of mine, and he was on his way to see me.”

“Who was it, Russ?” Holly wished to know.

The big man's eyes sparkled. “Cash.”

Holly and the children all laughed over this, and Russell turned to Reagan to explain.

“Cash is a good friend. We've known each other for years.”

“And he wasn't angry?” Reagan asked with a small amount of anxiety.

“Not at all. He was laughing by the time he got to me.”

Reagan sat back with a sigh. “I'm glad to hear it, but he would have been more than justified.”

“He doesn't anger easily.”

“I've never seen him angry,” added Holly.

These comments were of great interest to Reagan. She didn't have much of an impression of the man from the alley, having only seen him for a few moments, but these people she rented from were somehow different; she figured their friends must be too. Reagan couldn't put her finger on an exact incident, but something here was not what she was used to. For an instant she remembered the way Russell prayed.

“We have cake for dessert,” Holly announced. “Anyone interested?”

Even Alisa seemed to light up over these words, and Holly gave out generous slices of cake just a few minutes later. As coffee cups were refilled, the conversation started up all over again.

“I had a big one come in today,” Russell began. “One of the biggest horses in town.”

“Was he nice or mean?” Jonah, who loved his father's work, wished to know.

“What was his name?” Elly stuck in.

“His name was Sam, and as for temperament, he was somewhere in the middle. I've had some big ones you could swing by the tail and they wouldn't blink, but this one liked me in his sight and was happy as long as I kept talking.”

“Have you ever been seriously injured?” Reagan found herself asking, fascinated.

“Yes. I have a cavity on the outside of my leg from a severe kick more than ten years ago.”

“And you still wanted to be a blacksmith after that?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the big man replied contentedly. “I can count on one hand the number of days I've wanted to quit.”

There was something in the way he said this that made Reagan smile. She couldn't think of anything more wonderful than having a job she loved. The question was, would
she
ever feel that way?

Hours later Reagan climbed into bed, tired but not exhausted, that question and the whole evening still on her mind. It had done her heart a world of good to have some fun. Typically her friends from New York were single men or women, but getting to know a family here was a wonderful new experience.

The thought of family suddenly made her lie very still.

Maybe I haven't gotten too close to a family in the past because I didn't want to know what I've missed.

Almost afraid to let her thoughts go on but not able to stop them, Reagan thought about how she'd grown up, and how cruel life could be. If she had learned anything, it was this: To love someone was to give them the power to hurt you. Not by plan or design did Reagan live this out, but by instinct.

Her thoughts unsettled, Reagan rolled into a ball to get comfortable, reminding herself that morning came whether she was ready or not, and she would be a bear if she didn't get her sleep.

“What was
that?”
old Hank Demby exclaimed. He stood at the checkout counter at the general store, his eyes on the large glass window that overlooked the street.

“That was Reagan on her bicycle,” Lavinia Unger, the proprietress said. “Have you not see her before?”

The older gentleman didn't answer. He'd gone to the door to try to catch sight of it again. Lavinia joined him and, sure enough, they were swiftly rewarded with a view of Reagan as she left the bank, hopped on her bike in the most amazing way, and began to ride toward them.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Unger,” she called when she was abreast of them.

“Hello, Reagan.”

Pedaling along as if she hadn't a care in the world, Reagan gave a wave and kept going.

“How long has that been here?” Hank asked, his mouth still slightly agape.

“I think only about a week. It came in on the train. Reagan had told the boys at the station to watch for it, and when they sent word that it had arrived, she was down there in a flash—didn't even remove her apron.”

“Disgraceful!” a woman sniffed as she came up the boardwalk toward the door. “Completely improper! These easterners coming west with their strange and unprincipled ways.”

“Now, now,” Lavinia tried to soothe her. “Reagan's a good girl. She works hard.”

“Where's she work?” Hank found himself curious about the rider as well.

While this exchange took place, Reagan, who was uncaring of any attention she might draw, finished her errands. She was down to her last stop, and that was the livery. She found Russell shoeing a horse, lifting the animal's leg as though it weighed like a coin.

“Hello,” Reagan greeted him when he heard her and glanced up.

“Well, now,” he said as he finished with the last nail, dropped the hoof, and straightened to look at her. “Been riding that bike?”

Reagan smiled.

“How can you tell?”

Russell didn't answer, but he always knew. Her eyes would be especially bright, and if the day was brisk, her cheeks would redden, but the real giveaway was what it did to her hair. Always a bit unruly, Reagan's coiffure had been blown around until black curls and wisps finally fell on her forehead and down her neck.

“I've just come to tell you that Holly wasn't home when I got there, so I left the rent on the table.”

“She goes to Bible study on Wednesdays, and then sometimes the women visit,” Russell said almost absently. “You did the right thing. She'll find it.”

“All right.”

It had been on Reagan's mind to ask why Holly was studying the Bible, but she decided against it.

“So, are you out on business or just getting some exercise?” Russell asked.

“I'm doing errands until I meet the children at school.”

“Oh, that's right. Elly said you were coming to walk them home.”

“She's getting quite good on my bicycle.”

Russell grinned. “Only one scraped knee.”

“It helps that she's tall.”

“Has Jonah ridden yet?”

“Not on his own. The pedals are too far away.”

“Well, be sure and tell me if they don't thank you for all this fun.”

Reagan only laughed at what had been a serious comment from him and started on her way. Somewhere along the line she had decided that Russell and Holly took obedience a little too seriously. They had good kids. Reagan could see that. It seemed to her that they need not worry so much about all the little details.

Hopping on her bicycle yet again, Reagan rode toward the schoolhouse. She was running a little late, and the school was uphill, but she arrived just as the children were dismissed for the day. Several of them stopped to see her two-wheeled conveyance and were suitably impressed, but in short order she was walking along with the Bennett children.

“How was your day?” she asked them.

They both tried to answer at once, but then Jonah let his sister talk. Reagan listened with genuine interest until they were over halfway home, then agreed to take Elly's books so she could ride the rest of the way. Once Reagan and Jonah were alone, the little boy told her about his day.

“I had to spell words up front.”

“How did you do?”

“I got them all right. Jimmy got one wrong, but teacher let him do it over.”

“That was nice of her. What word was it?”

“What.”

“What word was it?”

“What,” he said again, turning his head to look at her, and Reagan began to laugh. Hearing her laugh, Jonah caught on and laughed too.

“We could have gone on with that for a long time,” Reagan commented as both her little house and Jonah's came into view. Out front, Elly was still atop the bike, going in big circles. Reagan heard Jonah sigh.

“I wish I had long legs.”

“You will before you know it.”

“That's what my mother says too.”

Reagan smiled at his sweet little face. She had never yearned for a family, but this little boy touched something inside of her that she had never felt before.

“Watch me, Miss Sullivan,” Elly called just as Holly came to the porch with Alisa.

The adults clapped and cheered while Elly leapt off and stopped the bicycle. Reagan then gave Jonah a ride, basically pushing him while he steered. Elly cheered her brother on from the porch, and Reagan was again struck by the closeness of these two children.

A moment later Holly told the children she had a snack for them on the kitchen table. She invited Reagan, who declined. Much as she enjoyed being with this family, at times she was oddly uncomfortable.

Not willing to think on it, Reagan took herself home. She had no specific plan, but she needed to do something to elude the feelings that seemed to pester her.

Six

A S
UNDAY MORNING OFF
! R
EAGAN COULD
hardly believe her luck. Not that she would ever want anyone to be harmed, but having a small fire in the hotel kitchen on Saturday night had meant the dining room would be closed all day Sunday. It hadn't allowed her to sleep in because she didn't know about it until she arrived for work, but that didn't diminish her joy. She hadn't had a morning off since arriving in Kinkade, so she wouldn't have wanted to lie in bed anyway. There was too much to see and do!

For the first time since her bicycle had arrived, Reagan left it at home. She had ridden to work but now returned home, spent time mending a torn seam, puttered around her small house, and eventually put on her better dress and set off on foot. It occurred to her somewhere along the line that she had not had breakfast, but she dismissed the thought for the moment. If she got desperate, she could throw herself on Sally's mercy to let her use the kitchen long enough to prepare a meal.

Thoughts of all she might do with a full day ahead raced through her mind. Because her business rarely took her to the east end of town, she decided to head that way. She was enjoying a few new sights when she heard singing.

Reagan stopped and listened to what sounded like a choir in full voice. It was in front of her somewhere, and after a few seconds, she moved toward the sound. A small white church came into view. Reagan didn't know why the idea of a church hadn't immediately occurred to her, but now that she saw where the sound was coming from, she smiled at her own surprise, shook her head, and started to turn away. At almost the same moment, she remembered that she had nowhere else in particular to go.

Walking slowly and enjoying the voices, Reagan went ahead to the church and stopped a few feet from the closed door. The closer she neared, the more beautiful it sounded. Church was not a place she'd visited much, hardly at all if the truth be told, but she felt mesmerized by the music she was hearing. Even when the singing stopped and didn't start up for a few seconds, Reagan remained still. The singing resumed, and the congregation must have been on their fifth number when Reagan's feet moved again, this time all the way to the door. Working not to be noticed, she opened the portal and slipped inside. To her surprise, no one turned. They were all standing, facing front, hymn books in hand, singing their hearts out.