Rumors and Promises (20 page)

“Good night, Caira.”

The whining began. “Nooo!”

“Shhhh, be good for Sophie.” He stood and placed his hand on the child’s back while her sister held her. The little one quieted to a whimper. “Would you like to ride up the stairs on my shoulders?”

Sophie didn’t look up. “You must ask the Reverend nicely, Caira.”

“Pease ’Cowmick?” She thrust out her bottom lip.

“No pouting then.” He took her from Sophie’s arms for what was becoming a routine. Caira giggled.

Sophie smiled in silent appreciation.

Sophie had gone up to bed to tuck Caira in but never came back down. Ian rubbed his sweaty palms together and then on the legs of his trousers. How could he maintain his ability to care for her out of charity if her presence continued to unnerve him the way it did? Ian raked his hand through his hair and stared into the flames of the hearth.

“A penny for your thoughts.” Maggie interrupted his musings as she bit a thread off from her mending.

“I was just wondering how soon Esther would be back. I ought to be praying more for her grandchildren.”
For healing, in earnest.
The sooner Sophie returned to the boardinghouse full-time, the better. He had known having the two girls in his home every night would make his life difficult. If only Maggie had allowed him to beg off and find another place for Sophie and Caira to stay.

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “I certainly thought you’ve been enjoying the company. I surely am.”

The next afternoon, Sophie needed air. With Caira napping and under Maggie’s watchful eye, she thought she had time to walk, to think about everything she’d been through lately. Being in close quarters with Ian unnerved her sometimes. Her hands found their way into the pockets of her long gray skirt, and she watched the pointed toes of her high-top shoes peek out from under the hemline as she strolled down the street.

The sweet fragrance of blooming hyacinth wafted on the early spring afternoon air. How long it had seemed in coming. Birds chirped, celebrating the budding trees even as white clouds like puffs of cotton scudded across the sky, sometimes blocking the sun. Sophie felt divided in the core of her being. She wanted so much to embrace the newness of spring, to feel hope in her new beginnings, the love she’d received from Esther and Maggie. Ian and his sister had become like a makeshift family for her and Caira.

But something was missing. While Ian acted like a big brother, she was afraid she was attracted to him like she would never be to her own brother. They’d been avoiding each other while Maggie tried to bridge the gap, and Caira and Philip’s chatter filled in the silence. Sophie wished she could stop thinking about her dilemma, so she kept walking toward the center of town. Maybe she would watch the ducks and geese that had returned to the millpond.

A sad, forlorn sound emanated from behind some shrubs. Sophie stopped to listen. The voice somehow sounded familiar. Sobbing and sniffling gave way to a low wailing. Whoever it was must have one deeply broken heart. Her own melted in kinship. She closed her eyes.
What can I do to help? Or should I just leave them alone?
But what if it was a hurt child? She should make sure they weren’t injured at least.

Tiptoeing toward the sound, Sophie parted some thick branches that sported budding leaves and peeked through. A lone figure sat on a bench in a gazebo. Nora Armstrong? What did she have to be sad about? Then again, what did she have to be happy about, living with a sour old woman like her aunt?

“Nora?” Sophie lifted her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you all right?”

The blonde girl sniffled and looked around, wiping a handkerchief across her face. “Who is that?” Her thin frame hunched over and she drew her knees up to her chin to hug them as though she could hide.

“Sophie.” She felt compelled to find a path through the shrubs and not sneak up on the poor girl. Her glance flitted to the other end of the property, where a large house, built of brick and stone, stood. Standing on the edge of the yard, once she broke through, Sophie waited to be invited further. “Is there something I could do to help you?”

“You must hate me for taking your job away … and I’m no good at it anyway.” A deep sob wracked the poor girl’s body again.

“Whatever can you mean?” Sophie fingered a curled leaf pushing forth at the end of one branch. “You’re doing a fine job.”

“You wouldn’t understand. Everyone thinks you’re pretty and talented. Aunt Gertie tells me I must eat more, plump up and gain color. She says I don’t practice enough, and I’m as clumsy as an oaf at the piano.” With this declaration, Nora peeked up at Sophie with red-rimmed, swollen eyes.

Sophie averted her gaze, not wanting to embarrass Nora by staring at her. What a different story she had to tell compared to what had been observed in public! Taking tentative steps toward Nora, she moved closer.

“You can sit down.” The other girl shrugged and patted the bench next to her. “Aunt Gert’s taking a nap and Uncle Ed won’t mind.”

“If you’re sure …” Sophie waited until she nodded. “Perhaps your aunt is not feeling well and doesn’t mean what she says.” Sophie tried to sound hopeful. Gertrude must truly care for her niece. Why would she otherwise have Nora living with them?

“She says she’s just being honest with me for my own good. She thinks I should know more about music after they paid my way at Miss Melton’s. It is an excellent finishing school.” Nora sat up straight and swung her legs down, then pulled a dry lacy white hankie from her apron pocket and dabbed her eyes. “I’m afraid you caught me acting like such a child.”

“We all have times we need to shed some tears. You sounded so wounded, I wanted to make sure that you were going to be all right.” Sophie paused and bit her lower lip, not sure what to say next. “I was concerned someone might be hurt.”

Nora sniffled. “Only my pride, I’m afraid.” She twisted the wet handkerchief she held. “Did you hear the mistake I made during the service last Sunday?” She turned a watchful gaze on Sophie.

Should she tell a fib to comfort the disheartened girl? Or be completely honest? Under the girl’s examination, she could hardly tell a white lie. Sophie looked away again.

“You can tell me the truth.” Nora sighed.

“Nora, if you’re not used to performing in front of a crowd it can be unnerving. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in front of people.”

“You can’t mean that.” Nora shook her head.

“I started as a young child.” Sophie glanced up at the clouds. Her childhood seemed as far away as they were.

“Really? Was your family musical? Or were you just wealthy enough to afford lessons?” Nora’s eyes brightened with her curiosity. Surely she wasn’t fishing for information that her aunt wanted? No. The look in her eyes was as transparent as a squeaky-clean window, but her questions were getting a bit too close to the truth about Sophie’s past for her comfort.

She smoothed her gray wool flannel skirt, careful to choose her words. “My parents thought very highly of musical training. It was kind of … an investment … for them.”

Swallowing against the constriction of her throat, Sophie stared down at the toes of their shoes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing perfectly fine and you look lovely the way you are.” She truly felt the other girl was lovely and possessed a sweet innocent spirit about her. As thin as she was, Nora walked gracefully and sat straight at the piano. How could Mrs. Wringer be so heartless toward her niece?

“There you are with all your responsibility and you can’t be much older than I am, but I sit here and complain. Please forgive me. I can’t do anything right!” With that Nora swiped away a fresh outpouring.

“You mustn’t say that about yourself. It won’t do you a bit of good.” Sophie patted the other girl’s knee, clad with the finest royal blue wool skirt. The tortoise shell combs that held her string-straight blonde hair in place, were encrusted with shiny stones. Her aunt and uncle saw well to her needs. And though the paint peeled on the gazebo, their fairly large home boasted a wraparound porch and sat on a rather generous piece of property.

Sophie once had these entrapments of wealth and more. Perhaps her life with Caira was rough, but she didn’t envy Nora, whose ease came at a cost. Sophie wouldn’t have been willing to pay the price of giving up her daughter. Without the hugs, kisses, and giggles of her little Caira, her life would be much poorer indeed. The temptation to envy Nora was fleeting.

“Then what am I good at?” Twisting the wet hanky again in her hands, Nora gave her an imploring look. “I truly don’t know.”

“You are a very good pianist and getting better each time you perform. Don’t worry about what people think. You’re playing for God, aren’t you?” Mama had often encouraged her with those words years ago.

“Well, yes, of course.”

“And you are kind rather than letting your aunt make you cranky and mean. That’s a choice you make every day, and I admire you for it.” Sophie gave her an encouraging smile, not sure she could do as well with Gertrude.

“Really?” Nora’s eyes held the tiniest spark of hope.

She nodded. “Please believe me … and if your aunt would allow it, I would be happy to help you when you practice, though I don’t think she’d be very agreeable to the idea.” Sophie looked
toward the towering brick structure with black shutters. “In fact, I should probably go. I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

“Thank you, Sophie. Maybe Aunt Gert would let me visit if it’s to help with my music. I’ll pray that she will.” Nora stood when Sophie did. “And I best get back to the house and face her like a grown-up.” She chuckled. “I appreciate your friendship. Nobody wants to spend time getting to know me, because … well … they’re scared of you-know-who.”

Sophie, on impulse, gave her a quick hug. When Nora drew back, she blinked, looking surprised. “I’ll see you at church.”

CHAPTER 12