Rumors and Promises (28 page)

A
few days later, Mr. Neuberger’s daughter wrapped some of the order for the boardinghouse. “Have you had any news from Mrs. Fairgrave lately?”

“Yes, she’s fine, but now that the children are doing better, Esther is waiting for the baby to arrive.” Sophie nodded, thinking how thankful she was Esther had thought to leave behind just enough funds to restock the essentials.

Cecilia Neuberger, all corkscrew curls and ribbons, couldn’t have been more than a year or two younger than she. “I heard that you’ve been ill. Now that you’re better, are you going to Helena Blanding’s Welcome Spring Social? It’s the young people’s social event of the year.” The girl giggled. “Besides, some of the town’s handsomest young gentlemen will be there,” she whispered, leaning forward. “Perhaps even Reverend McCormick will be there, but I suppose you see quite enough of him. My mother heard he was
awfully
worried about your being sick.”

Sophie’s throat dried, and she gave a little cough. “N-no, I haven’t heard anything about the social.” She hardly expected she’d be included in any young people’s get together. She felt ten years their senior with her responsibilities, but she still had a heart and feelings. Averting her gaze for a moment, she willed herself
not to let the girl’s snub, or insinuation, bother her. “I’ve no doubt Reverend McCormick and Mrs. Galloway have been equally concerned. They are such kind people.”

“I’m sure.” Cecilia rolled her eyes. “But I did think
all
the young gentleman and
ladies
at church had been invited.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, looking all innocence.

“Cecilia! Get into the storeroom. I need your help back there. Your father can take care of the customers.” Mrs. Neuberger stood with arms crossed, staring at Sophie through narrowed eyes.

Mr. Neuberger stood at the other end of the counter, scratching his head and looking apologetic over his wife’s less than friendly attitude.

Maggie came to Sophie’s side. “Let me help you with your packages,
dear friend,”
she spoke louder than necessary.

A few minutes later, the bells over the entrance of Neuberger’s General Store jingled as the door closed behind Sophie and Maggie. The heady perfume of spring air mixed with the scent of coffee and spices clung to her clothing. Sophie inhaled. How good it was to be outside of the stuffy store and away from the house. Over a week stuck inside the parsonage was enough.

“I think I have everything to restock the boardinghouse. Thank you so much for your help … in more than one way.” Sophie held onto the handle of a wicker basket with one hand and lifted her skirt with the other as she stepped down into the road and toward the wagon. Ian lugged a large sack of flour to the wagon for them.

“We don’t mind.” Maggie smiled. “Don’t worry about what Cecilia said. She’s a silly child.” She put a hand on Sophie’s arm.

Sophie nodded, not willing to look at Maggie and risk revealing the hurt deep within. “Thank you for standing by me.”

“I wouldn’t think of doing anything else.” Maggie gave her arm a pat.

Sophie didn’t add that she wouldn’t mind being part of the carefree socials occasionally, but knew that with Gertrude Wringer’s
influence in town, that wouldn’t happen. Other than the unusual, rather secret friendship she and Nora had struck up, the other young ladies close to Sophie’s age wouldn’t bother to endanger their reputations by getting to know her.

“Really, Sophie, the likes of Cecelia and Helena aren’t worth your time.” Maggie patted her back. She seemed to understand Sophie so well.

Caira pattered along the boardwalk, sucking on a stick of candy. Mr. Neuberger had offered it to her, and Sophie couldn’t refuse the gesture of kindness toward her child. He had always been kind to them both, despite his sour wife and snooty daughter. Sophie could tell Caira heartily enjoyed the sugary lemon treat.

“I’m glad I only gave her half. Come back here, little one!” Sophie tucked away the hurtful comments made in the store and observed the child’s widening eyes and her busyness. She hoped the sugar wouldn’t make her sick.

Caira turned and toddled in the other direction. Too late, Sophie saw the self-assured form of Gertrude Wringer striding along the boardwalk flanked by Millie and Etta. Busy talking to her friends, Gertrude cackled and didn’t watch where she was going.

A sick feeling hit Sophie’s mid-section. A moment too late she called, “Look out, Caira!”

The glaring Wringer woman knocked the child backward. As Caira fell backwards on her bottom and hit the boardwalk, the lemon candy stick flew from her hand and landed plunk into a crack between the boards. She let out a wail.

“What a rude child! I told you she was ill-behaved.”

Sophie ran to rescue her with clenched fists glued to her sides. No polite smile could be beckoned forth at this meeting. “I beg your pardon. I’m sure it won’t happen again. Caira was excited about the candy she’d just gotten. She didn’t see you.” Sophie helped her daughter up, swiping at the dirt on her backside. Caira clung to her skirt.

“No wonder she’s rude and excitable. You allow this child sweetmeats rather than soundly nutritious food. You obviously do nothing but indulge her.” Gertrude wagged her bony finger in Sophie’s face. A thin brown reticule hung from her arm like a turkey’s wattle.

Anger and embarrassment overtook Sophie as she endured the stares of all three women. She shook and heat suffused her neck while flames consumed her face. “Excuse me?” She managed to pipe up. “Caira—”

The firm squeeze of Ian’s large hand on her upper arm stopped her short. “Gertrude, I know you haven’t been blessed with children. Perhaps you don’t understand what it’s like to have little ones around, to be a child yourself, or how much patience they require.”

Sophie turned her head. Ian put up a gloved hand, signaling her to wait until he was finished. “I can vouch for Sophie here. I’ve observed her while they’ve been staying with us at the parsonage. She has a big task in raising a spirited child. And it’s a task I believe she’s up for.”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open as she stared into his sympathetic gaze, as deep as the aqua blue of Lake Huron. He must care something for her to take her side like this.

She looked back to see the shocked expression in Gertrude’s beady eyes. “Is that so? You’re defending this common flirt instead of taking my side?” Her arms crossed against her thin frame. Millie and Etta stood behind her, looking just as sour.

“It’s as simple as that; I am standing up for this fine young woman.” Ian scooped Caira into his arms and patted the whimpering child on the back.

“Well, what insolence! I’d like a sincere apology from Miss Biddle for her obnoxious so-called sister running into me.” Gertrude lifted her chin.

She was given more of an apology than she deserved.
Oh! How Sophie wanted to say that. For Ian’s sake she wouldn’t.

“For what, Gertrude? The child didn’t mean to run into you. That kind of thing happens all the time. Perhaps you’re having a bad day. Are you feeling poorly?” Ian attempted a smile.

The nasty woman’s face broke out in red splotches. “I have not been chairwoman of the Stone Creek Ladies’ Aid Society for nothing all of these years. I will not be patronized in this way! Wait until the truth about those two comes out!”

As the three women turned to walk away, Sophie heard Gertrude’s louder than necessary comment. “How cozy, the two of them staying at the parsonage
every night.”
Her cohorts’ gasps followed.

“Yes, I’m surprised by our saintly pastor,” Millie added.

“How scandalous!” Etta put in her two cents.

Sophie’s heart pounded in her ears. Her very insides shook. She whirled around. Pedestrians, frozen in the street momentarily, walked quickly away. Men tied their horses to hitching posts in a hurry. Passersby were all too quiet. Faces that had peered out from the storefronts disappeared away from the windows. How much of the town had observed the humiliating confrontation?

And Ian had defended her. Sophie sensed that she couldn’t be the first victim of the Wringer woman’s cruelty.

As he lifted Caira into the wagon, she grabbed his sleeve. “She was absolutely horrible. How can you let her go on like that? She’s insinuating the worst and how many people heard her? Never mind that’s the second time she frightened Caira.” Sophie’s voice rose, and she didn’t care.

He lifted his hand again. “A soft answer turns away wrath.”

“Does it with someone like that?” She wanted to cry and to scream that justice needed to be done—that Gertrude Wringer was filled with nothing but hateful venom, which would never be softened by anyone’s kindness.

“Sophie, don’t let her get to you. That’s what she wants. If you give her evidence, she’ll build her case,” Maggie implored.

“What evidence? What case? What have I done?” How did you defend yourself against someone who was bent on hating you? This wasn’t the first time she’d been wrongly accused. But this time Ian was considered her accomplice. She didn’t want to see these kindhearted people get hurt on her account. She groaned. Her muddled, torn heart lay heavy in her chest.

Sophie filled a water bottle with hot liquid and placed a cork in the opening. “Here you go, Mr. Graemer.” She handed it to the elderly gentleman and tucked a blanket around him. “I worry about you not having someone here if you need anything during the night.” Esther’s absence seemed to drag on. Two days before she’d encountered Gertrude’s spitefulness on the boardwalk, but it seemed a week ago.

“What? You don’t need to strike up a light. It’s daytime!” He boomed at her.

“Of course.” Sophie smiled.

She stepped back to watch him rock contentedly in the ancient chair for a moment. She hoped the creaky piece of furniture wouldn’t ever fall apart under the delightful elderly resident.

The squeak of the front door caught her attention. Mr. Spitzer, the traveling salesman, entered. “Long time, no see, Miss Sophie. Has Esther held my room for me?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make up the bed for you this afternoon. Will you be in town long?”

“I never know quite how many days, but it’s good to be back. Say, are those your buttermilk biscuits I smell?” His black handlebar mustache twitched under his nose as he sniffed the air.

“Yes, they’ll be out of the oven soon.” Sophie had to smile. Mrs. Fairgrave’s boardinghouse may never be quite full, but it didn’t lack for characters. The thought lightened her spirits for a few minutes.

She walked through the doorway into the kitchen. After she’d taken the biscuits from the oven, she lifted each flaky, golden morsel off the pan and onto a platter. The buttery smell caused Sophie’s taste buds to water. Her stomach growled in anticipation of lunch. At least she and Caira had not gone hungry. Maybe God really wasn’t punishing her after all.

She sighed and tried to push dark thoughts away. Father’s grim face still forced its way in. He had sat there and shook his head as her pregnancy became obvious.
“There’s only one solution to this. Marry Charles.”

“Please, Papa, no.”

“I thought you cared for him. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let him court you.” His tone was impatient.

“Lemuel, please. I told you she was too young, that a man like Charles was too worldly for her. And now it seems he’s shown her the ‘ways of the world’ and you’re blaming our girl.” Mama stood behind Sophie, with hands placed on her shoulders. “I told you there was something that I didn’t like about him.”

“But it would be for the best, Olivia. He came to me with honorable intentions. Sophia would want for nothing.” Papa stood with hands behind his back and began to pace.

“And neither would the family company. Is that it, Lemuel?” Mother surprised Sophia with the way she spoke up for her.

“Papa, he scares me.” She bowed her head.

“Well, he didn’t frighten you enough, when you went into that parlor with him … alone.”

“He tricked me.” Then Sophia lowered her voice to a whisper. “He forced me.”

“We’ve been over this all before. I believe she’s telling the truth.” Mama’s voice rose in pitch. “Paul should never have left her there. He should have waited until he knew Charles’ parents were there.”

“How could you ruin our good name like this? God will punish such sin!” Her father spat out the angry words.