Rumors and Promises (31 page)

“Ow!” she squeaked as she fell backward, hitting the floor.

James looked up, obviously shaken. He glanced down. “My apologies. Let me help you up.”

“Nora, are you all right?” Sophie rushed to her.

Her friend stared up at James, her eyes barely blinking. “I’m most certainly fine.”

James grasped Nora’s arms and pulled her to her feet. His eyes didn’t leave hers either. “That was absolutely clumsy of me. I was so concentrated on an assignment from the paper, I didn’t even see you.” He steadied her before he let go and pushed a hand through his hair.

Sophie took Nora’s elbow while James picked up the apron, and his hat, from the threshold. “This is James Cooper, budding, sometimes absentminded, journalist. May I introduce you to Nora Armstrong? She’s quite new in town.” Sophie knew she’d shot James a scolding look, just as she would have to her brother, Paul. “If you went to church more often, you’d know who she was.”

Nora’s pale face turned sunset pink. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cooper.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Armstrong.” Sophie rolled her eyes at James’ flourished bow.

“Nora is the principal church pianist, living with her aunt and uncle, the Wringers.”

“Please consider taking me up on my offer.” Nora hugged her. “I so want to be a help to you.”

Sophie’s heart positively expanded with affection for her friend. This could be an opportunity to see Ian once she’d moved out of the parsonage, but the thought scared her as much as it gave her a sense of pleasure. “Nora, you are too generous. Don’t worry about me. I am still glad to help you and to be backup if you need it.”

Nora’s mouth drooped.

“I’ll think about it.” Sophie closed the door after her dear friend turned to leave. Afterward, she realized with all the commotion, Nora had never asked her music question.

Rhythmic pounding of hammers rang out in the crisp afternoon air. After working inside for several hours, Sophie went outside to check on the men.

“Anyone thirsty?” She grasped a rung of the ladder and climbed the first several with care while carrying a bucket of water.

“Yes, thank you.” One of the workers reached down and Sophie handed him a ladle full.

Her foot caught in the hem of her skirt as she moved back down the ladder, pushing her leg against the rungs. Sophie dropped the bucket, but not in time to prevent her from losing her balance and tumbling backward. She closed her eyes.
Help!
Her silent plea went up to God, even while she opened her mouth to scream. Everything was happening so quickly, yet it seemed to take one hundred years. Just as she thought that she wasn’t far from hitting the ground, Sophie felt the warmth of two strong arms supporting her weight. She opened her eyes and gasped.

She could feel Ian’s heart pounding in cadence with hers as he held her close. “Sophie, are you hurt?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. Sweat glistened on his furrowed brow above his aqua eyes.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “I don’t believe so.” Sophie closed her eyelids for but a moment, wondering if this could be a dream. No, she could still feel the strength of his arms underneath, the muscles of his chest taut against her. She opened her eyes again. Yes, Ian had caught her and still held her. She remembered the afternoon he had carried her against her will when she was sick. Like the proverbial knight in shining armor, he had rescued her again. How could her reserve melt so quickly? She was surprised with the awareness of how right it felt for him to hold her, much like it had that afternoon at the parsonage. What was this man doing to her?

“Let me take you inside.” The grin on his face replaced the worried expression he had worn moments before.

Sophie nodded though she’d rather continue to melt into his arms.

“Good work, Reverend!” Mr. Graemer’s exclamation boomed from the doorway.

Ian placed her on the ground as delicately as though she were a porcelain doll. Taking her elbow, he guided her into the house and waited for her to settle on the chaise in the parlor. She wished the moments in his arms had taken longer.

“Are you sure you’re quite well?” He bent over her. “May I get you something to drink?”

A nervous giggle bubbled up inside of Sophie. “I’m fine, really. I was just a bit scared, is all. It’s you who are probably worse for the wear. You did all the work. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Gloria Myles rushed to Sophie’s side and held her hand. “Let me fix you a cup of tea, dear. You’ve been working hard all day.”

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” Sophie waved a hand.

“How frightful that you fell. I heard all about it. Thank the Lord our dear Pastor McCormick was here to catch you.” Gloria patted Sophie’s hand.

“Well, I’ll be back to work then.” Ian nodded and headed back outside.

“Quite a young man there, isn’t he?” Mr. Graemer toddled off to his rocking chair and lowered himself into it. “I just happened to open the door for a bit of air, when I saw what happened. Wore me out, it did, watching him run to catch you like that. You’re one lucky lady.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

“I—” Sophie was interrupted.

“Providence, Mr. Graemer, providence. Our pastor would tell you that there is no such thing as luck.” Gloria wagged a finger at the elderly gentleman, but she did it with a smile.

“Ah, yes.” He agreed. “Providential for both of them, indeed.” Mr. Graemer grinned in such a way that he looked quite pleased with himself.

Did his statement hold more meaning than he let on? Sophie shifted her position on the settee. Warmth crept into her cheeks. She noticed that her shin smarted. After rubbing her leg, she bent her head and rubbed her cool hands on her burning face, hoping no one would notice.

Ian swung the hammer onto the head of a nail, fastening one more loose board. He sighed. They had accomplished much though it was only early afternoon, but they would have to come back to whitewash the clapboard and paint several rooms inside. He stood up straight and rubbed the small of his back for a moment.

A cloud blew across the blue sky along with a sharp breeze, warning that nobody should get too used to spring’s presence. He tried to concentrate on his thankfulness for the industriousness of those helping that day rather than the disappointment he felt in the absence of several families. Though most of the elder board approved of a workday to assist the kindly Esther, the Wilsons, the Stouts, the Blandings, and a few others whom Gertrude possessed influence over in the church found excuses for not being present. No doubt Gertrude couldn’t stomach the thought of publicly helping someone who’d given Sophie a chance.

He’d heard that Helena Blanding said they were much too busy with preparing for the Welcome Spring Social they held annually for the young people of the town. You’d think with her father being an elder, charity toward a widow would be considered more important, but Stone Creek’s social calendar seemed to take precedence for the family.

He thought he’d check on Sophie one more time. He walked through the back door. “I see the invalid is up.” She was scurrying around the kitchen, clad with a white apron over her navy blue dress. Strands of chestnut hair had fallen loose from her bun. How he would like to loosen all of her shining tresses and see them frame her pretty face.

“Thanks to you I only have a bruised shin to contend with. Your timing was perfect.” That endearing crooked grin caused her to look even more fetching. “Besides, I had so many people fussing over me that even if I had been hurt, I would have been mended in no time.”

How true! More than once, Ian had poked his head in to see how she fared. Not only Gloria, but several other women had brought her a pillow or recommended a tonic for her nerves and various other remedies. Many of the people of his congregation cared about her.

Sophie sniffed the air. “Oh no, I hope the beans aren’t burning now.” Armed with a potholder and a serving spoon, she took the lid from a large pan and stirred the contents as a steamy molasses scent rose from the pot. “Somehow, I need to get these people fed. We have a small army here.”

“The turnout has been quite heartening indeed.” Ian nodded. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He spied a vase of golden daffodils. “Where did those come from?”

“Oh, a dear friend brought them.” She moved the pan to the table by the wall. “I believe these are done.”

Sophie wore a mischievous smile. What kind of “dear friend” would bring her such a lovely floral offering? Perhaps she had an admirer. He scratched his head, thinking of the men and boys who had inquired about her. Most of them were married, too old, or too young. Then again, what did it matter to him? Ian knew that any hint of a relationship with him could be ruinous if certain people had wind of it, especially while she was still under his roof … and protection. Caira’s out-of-wedlock birth wouldn’t be received lightly.

A vision of James Cooper kneeling before Sophie in the parsonage kitchen nagged him. Thoughts of the immature young man attempting to court her gnawed at him like a wolf at a bone. Though he tried for the next few minutes to shake off such jealous feelings, they pained him.

Maggie burst through the door, startling him from his confused state. “Ian, what are you doing just standing there? And you look perfectly cross.”

Sophie’s forehead creased as her brows went up, a question forming in her eyes.

His sister put her hands on her hips. “The men need you to help set up the tables, so we can eat. And our darling Sophie here,” Maggie said as she moved to link arms with the younger woman, “has worked so hard despite her mishap.”

Ian had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. How quickly his older sister had forgotten the role he played in Sophie’s tumble from the ladder.

“Maggie, don’t forget your brother did save me from injury.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Ian’s a good soul. Such a gallant act is the least he could do.” She waved her other hand about as though shooing a fly.

He noticed then that Elise had entered the kitchen. With all her shyness, she attempted to hide behind Sophie. She tapped Maggie on the arm.

“What is it, dear?” Maggie spoke with a kinder tone toward the little girl. Elise pointed to the daffodils.

“Where did that lovely sign of spring come from?” Maggie bent closer toward Elise.

“Tell her.” Sophie put her arm around the child’s shoulder.

“From me,” she whispered, smiling up at Sophie.

“She brought them to me from her grandma’s garden.”

“They are just beautiful.” Maggie clapped her hands together. “How thoughtful.”

The blooms seemed even more beautiful to Ian at that moment. His heart warmed to think of how Sophie’s music had touched Elise’s heart, causing the child to come out of her shell, but even more, he felt relief that the flowers hadn’t been from a gentleman. He slipped silently back outside, at peace.

Ian grasped one end of a large wooden plank while Elisha Whitworth picked up the other. Ian contrasted the rough hardness of the lifeless wood to the warm softness of Sophie in his arms
earlier that day. For a second, he had felt complete. It was as though he had been lost in the pools of her amber eyes and had to draw himself out before he drowned in them. At moments like that, he could forget the secret wedged between them and her lack of trust in him. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“You’re awfully quiet, there, Reverend.” Elisha’s gruff voice ended Ian’s reverie. “If it weren’t for Maggie and her boy, I would say that you’re alone too much. Though you’re at just the right age to find yourself a wife.” The large, bearded man grinned and mopped his forehead. A small amount of activity set Elisha to sweating.