Mittman, Stephanie (32 page)

Mr.
Kelly stood in the center of the room and fiddled with his hat.

"How
is Mrs. Kelly?" Annie asked. "I haven't seen her except at church
since—"

"Since
we lost our Bethy," he finished for her. "She ain't the same, Mrs.
Kelly, since the fire. That's why I'm here."

"I
don't understand," Annie said, but it seemed like Noah did.

"Did
you remember something about the furnace?" he asked. "Is that
it?"

"The
wife thought I should have a look at yours. Just thinkin' somebody else might
have to go through what we did—it ain't somethin' ya get over, not never."
Even now there were tears in his eyes.

"I'm
sorry for your loss," Noah said, as he put a hand on Brian Kelly's
shoulder.

"Well,
you're no stranger to tragedy yourself, from what the reverend says,"
Kelly said, then looked sheepish.

"I
lost a lot of people in the flood," Noah admitted. "Family, friends,
neighbors. But to lose a child—"

"We
was hopin' some good could come of it, but we didn't see none. Then you started
this business about the furnaces, and we thought maybe there's a chance if we
could save just one child, there'd be a reason Bethy died."

Noah
bit the inside of his lip. Annie had seen him do it before, when he came to her
about Ruth Abernathy. It was almost like he needed to feel the pain the others
were feeling.

"Come
on out and we'll go around and down to the cellar," he said to Brian.
"Let's have a look."

"It's
good to see you again, Miss Sissy," Brian said as the two men headed
outside. "Yer lookin' right pretty these days."

"Thank
you," she said, somewhat surprised. Lookin' pretty? What in the world had
gotten into the men of Van Wert?

She
supposed she would have stood there just staring at the closed door all day if
Julia hadn't announced that she wanted to use the pot.

***

Miller
Winestock did not like to see the worst in people. In fact, he took a certain
amount of pride in the fact that, while he was rarely duped, he always found
something about a person to like. And he understood how something could appear
one way and actually be a wholly different situation than appearances would
lead one to believe.

So
even though four different parishioners, including Tessie Willis, who was
almost directly involved, had implied that there was something going on between
Sissy Morrow and Noah Eastman, he did not believe it. And the fact that he was
on his way out to Eastman's farm had nothing whatever to do with the rumors.

He
needed to clear up the matter of Eastman's not-dead wife. That was the way he
thought of her. And he thought of her often. With over sixty dollars donated to
her memorial, she weighed heavily on his mind.

He
wasn't happy to see two rigs in front of Eastman's house when he got there. He
recognized Annie's wagon, although Blackie was not attached to it. That meant
she wasn't there for a quick visit but for the day. Which didn't, he reminded
himself, prove anything untoward.

The
other wagon could have belonged to anyone in the parish. So what if Eastman had
company? Had he thought the man hadn't made any friends? Or had he hoped it?

Well,
he would simply wait for the visitor to leave. Then he would confront Eastman
about just what he thought he was doing. If it came to it, he would have to bring
up his wife. The thought didn't disconcert him as much as he expected.

Sissy
opened the door and stared at him. She had the smaller Eastman girl on her hip,
and the bigger one was clinging to her skirts.

"On
the pot!" the little one said. He had no idea what she meant, but Sissy
shushed her.

"Miller,"
she said, her surprise, like everything else she thought, written across her
face. He could swear he read guilt there too, but that was ridiculous.
"What are you doing here?"

"May
I come in?" he asked, looking beyond her into the house. It was neat as a
pin, despite the two little girls and the lack of a woman in the household.
Unless Noah Eastman was a very tidy man, and Miller doubted that, Sissy had
certainly been spending a lot of time at the Eastman farm.

"Of
course," she said, trying to act like a gracious hostess. "Please,
come in."

"Thank
you," he said and waited as she led the way.

He
removed his hat. There were men's voices coming from somewhere, but he couldn't
make them out. "Is Mr. Eastman home?"

"Miss
Annie made cookies," the older girl announced. "Look." She
pointed to the cookie on the table. "It's me."

He
could see clearly that the cookie did indeed resemble the child standing before
him. Next to the cookie he saw the
Van Wert Bulletin.
Circled in pencil
was the address for advertisements, along with the fees.

"Can
I get you anything?" Sissy asked. "I'm sure Noah and Brian will be up
in just a moment."

"Brian?"

"Mr.
Kelly. He came to see Mr. Eastman this morning about the furnace."

Everything
that had to do with that man became an irritation. First Sissy started watching
his children and the next thing Miller knew he wasn't getting his weekly visit
from her. It didn't escape his notice that she called him Noah when she
referred to him, nor did he miss how right the child looked on the hip that was
slung out slightly to accommodate her. The furnace business was the last straw.

"They're
in the cellar?" Miller asked, barely in control of his rage.

"Would
you like me to go get them?" she offered meekly. She could read him well,
as Elvira had, and he had no wish to direct any of his anger at the sweet young
woman who stood nervously before him.

"It
can wait," he said. She tidied about him, busily straightening corners of
already straight piles of books and magazines, the child on her hip twirling
Sissy's hair around one chubby finger. "I missed your visit last
week."

Her
free hand flew to her cheek. "Oh, Miller! I forgot. I'm real sorry. I know
how you count on that butter for your morning toast.

"It's
quite all right," he said. "You must have been very busy."

"Well."
She hedged. "I still shouldn't have forgotten. Let me get you a piece of
pie, at least. There's a quince one in the kitchen."

She
raced off before he could stop her. Unaccustomed to being left alone in someone
else's house, he fiddled with the newspaper on the table and decided to see
what they were saying this month in
The Outlook.
It surprised him to
find the newspaper in Eastman's home. He hadn't pegged the man as a reader of a
Christian family paper. When he picked up the paper he found beneath it the
copy for an ad. He was reading it when Sissy came back into the room.

"Then
this isn't a permanent arrangement?" he asked her, pointing toward the
children who trailed her.

"Oh,
no," she assured him. "I'm leaving just as soon as I can." She
sat down and confided to him in whispers the children wouldn't overhear that
Mrs. Abernathy had hit the children with some sort of stick. He fought the urge
to remind her that it was well known that to spare the rod was to spoil the
child. Well known by everyone but the woman across from him, who was getting
tears in her eyes just talking about it. He reached across the table and patted
her hand gently.

The
men's voices grew louder, accompanied by footsteps on the porch. He drew his
hand back and rose so as not to be at a disadvantage.

"So
then it's the same," Eastman said as they came through the door.

"Looks
it," Kelly said.

The
two men stopped at the sight of Miller, Kelly looking decidedly uncomfortable.
Miller stared at the man, silently demanding an explanation.

"I
heard he looked at the Webbs' furnace and said it wasn't nothin' like
his," Kelly said.

"And?"

"And
I figured if he was pullin' somethin' he'da claimed it was. So I come to
look."

"And?"

"And
I think it be the same as mine what blew up."

"Mr.
Kelly, you don't even know yours did blow up," Miller said. This was just
what he was afraid of, ignorant people jumping on some panic bandwagon.

"I
know I got a little girl that's only a memory. I know I ain't never gonna see
her grow up and marry and give me no grandbabies. I know what it's done to the
wife, and I know there's gotta be a purpose to it. The Lord couldna taken my
Bethy without there was some purpose." He wiped a runny nose on his
sleeve.

"Of
course there was a purpose," Miller agreed. "But it is not for us to
know the Lord's design. I am not a stranger to loss, Mr. Kelly. You know that.
But it's enough to know that while He works in mysterious ways, His is a master
plan and we are accounted for, one and all."

"Well
it ain't enough for me," Kelly said.

"If
we can save others—" Noah began.

"This
is ridiculous. Do you realize if you stop people from turning on their furnaces
the influenza will run rampant in the county? Do you have any idea the numbers
of children who will die without heat while you save them from an imaginary
threat?"

"You
don't have children of your own, Reverend Winestock, so beggin' your pardon,
but you just don't know. A parent would do anything to save a child from harm:
lie, cheat, steal. I can't see how checkin' a few furnaces is hurtin'
anybody."

"He's
ruining the reputation of a decent man," Miller said, pointing at Eastman.
He wanted to tell them all about Wylene Eastman and that the man Kelly thought
so decent was less than honest. But there was no point in bringing up Mrs.
Eastman among these people. They would all side with a father trying simply to
protect his children. He took up his hat and pulled it onto his head. Then he
looked at the man he knew was trouble from the day he met him. "Remember,
Eastman," he said as he pulled himself to his sermonizing height.
"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."

With
that, he crossed the room and left the door open behind him.

"Miller?"
Sissy said, running out behind him.

"It's
cold out," he told her. "Go back inside."

"But
Miller," she tried again.

This
was not a good time to have a dialogue with her. He felt too emotional, nearly
out of control. Such passion would be welcome from the pulpit, but it didn't
belong between two people on a poorly tended farm in the middle of nowhere.
"It's freezing, Sissy," he said, and got into his fine black buggy.
"We'll talk another time."

She
stood on the porch steps, her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say
something more to him. He flicked the reins in disgust.

Now
the man was even coming between him and the woman he was going to marry.

Damn
but it was cold.
Noah had checked with Charlie and Risa on Sunday, and
the bent piece of pipe he needed to fix the furnace still hadn't come in. He
could understand the temptation to use the inferior metal just to get the thing
up and running. It seemed like less of a crime, somehow, as he stood over the
stove in the kitchen rubbing his hands together and worrying about keeping the
girls warm with just a few stoves for heat. It was like being back in the Dark
Ages and he didn't like it one bit.

A
banging door and a friendly voice signaled Ethan's arrival. "You got any
oatmeal?" he called out as he came into the house. To one of the girls he
said, "Hi there, cutie," then continued into the kitchen.

"Oatmeal?"
Noah asked.

"Got
a hankerin' for it. Sissy used to make it for me on cold mornings like this.
Then I'd get on Blackie and head on down to school before anyone else to get
the stove goin'."

Noah
dropped the spoon into the pot and it clanged throughout the kitchen. The
school! "The furnace, Ethan. Think, boy. What was the furnace like?"
If only he could figure out why his and Kelly's furnaces were both death traps
and the church's and the Webbs' weren't.

"Like
all the rest of 'em." Ethan sighed. "It was a long time ago, before I
did my growing. They always picked a small kid to do it 'cause the ceiling was
so low down in that cellar."

"Watch
the girls," Noah called over his shoulder as he headed for the door. What
an idiot he'd been. The pipe only had to be bent if the ceiling was low. And
only the
bent
pipes were the problem.

He
didn't bother hitching up a wagon. He threw Ethan's saddle across Buckshot and
hightailed it to town. If he wasn't in time, some poor child could pay for his
stupidity.

***

She
had intended to read last night. She would have, too, if Willa hadn't gone and
picked those hickory nuts. And, of course, if it hadn't been Halloween. She'd
gotten all the dishes done and put away and was getting ready to head up to bed
when Willa suggested they do that silly prophesy game with the hickory nuts.