Sister's Choice (13 page)

She nodded with a wry smile. “Yes, I can see your point. Well, I’ll just have to teach you to dance.”

“In one day?”

“The party isn’t tomorrow,” Maggie said patiently. “It is
next
Saturday.”

He gave her a look that meant, “So what does it matter?”

“Even you can learn to dance in a week,” she said confidently.

ELEVEN

The next day, Tamara came to the Newcombs’ for her sewing lesson. She was dressed prettily in a day dress of pink, printed with little red flowers. It was nice enough to be a party dress. And Maggie was in overalls! She had completely forgotten her resolve to dress for company, but then she hadn’t really considered this a company occasion. If she dressed for Tamara’s visits, she was going to have to dress up all the time!

Maggie had finished her nine-patch block. The browns and golds she’d chosen complemented the red nicely. The block had turned out well. It was actually square! And no puckers, either.

Would Tamara begin her lesson with a nine-patch? If so, Maggie was ahead of her right from the start. She tried to convince herself this wasn’t a competition, but it was hard not to think of it in that way. Grandma did tell Tamara her first block would be a nine-patch. She asked Maggie to show hers, and Tamara was very complimentary of it.

“What will I do next, Grandma?” Maggie asked.

“A log cabin.”

Maggie groaned. She had been hoping to finally do something more intricate.

“The log cabin may seem easy,” Grandma explained, “but this is a pattern in which you must sew a very uniform seam. Because the log cabin has so many pieces, any variation will show. You must learn to make a uniform quarter-inch seam before you move on to more intricate patterns.”

“I love your colors, Maggie,” Tamara said. “Mrs. Stoddard let me choose some of her scraps to use in my project.”

“Let’s see them,” Maggie said.

Maggie wasn’t surprised when Tamara took from her basket some fabrics in pastel colors—pink, lavender, pale blue, buttery yellow, all very feminine.

“You are welcome to look in my scrap box, as well,” Mama offered, calling from the kitchen, where she was washing up after breakfast. Usually Mama left during the sewing lessons, but no doubt she was staying around to be sociable toward Tamara.

“This is very exciting,” Grandma said. “You are both going to make the same quilt, but since you are using such different colors, they will each be unique.”

“The same quilt?” Maggie couldn’t help the disappointment in her voice. It was bad enough that she’d been roped into sharing her sewing lessons; now there would be nothing special about her quilt.

“Trust me, Maggie,” Grandma assured her, “they will look like two completely different quilts. And, as you become more proficient, perhaps I will let you choose different blocks that more suit your tastes. How is that?”

Maggie nodded, not entirely convinced but determined to stick with her promise not to argue. When Grandma made her next suggestion, that Maggie actually teach Tamara the nine-patch, Maggie just shrugged and accepted her fate. Grandma said teaching others was the best way to learn.

They chatted while they sewed, just like the women in Mama’s Sewing Circle.

“I understand you are from Portland, Tamara,” Grandma said.

“Yes. My father is a doctor.”

“And what do you enjoy doing besides sewing?”

“I hope I will enjoy sewing,” Tamara replied. “I’ve only done some needlepoint. I keep busy practicing my music.”

“You should hear her, Grandma,” Maggie said. “She plays the violin really well. I mean, as far as I can tell. I don’t know much about music. And she plays the piano. But no one around here plays the violin like she does.”

“Mrs. Stoddard says she is saving for one for Sarah,” Tamara said. “Sarah excelled in piano at school—ouch!” Tamara had stuck her finger with her needle. Maggie couldn’t help feeling just a little gratified by this.

“You should have chosen red like me,” Maggie said lightly, “then the blood won’t show as much!”

Tamara laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Just remember that your saliva will get your own blood out if you dab it on quickly,” Grandma suggested.

“Ick!” said Maggie and Tamara together.

It was not long after that incident that Maggie realized she was actually enjoying the session, enjoying Tamara’s company. Tamara wasn’t some rich snob, which was how Maggie had wanted to perceive her. She was a nice person. Maggie wondered if she should be honest with her about Colby. Well, she wasn’t ready to do that just yet, but she’d give it some thought.

Grandma asked Tamara how she happened to be visiting the Stoddards.

“Sarah and I attended finishing school together,” Tamara answered.

“Ellie was also in their class,” put in Maggie.

“But our parents were friends before that. Mr. Stoddard grew up in Portland and attended school with my father. So here I am.” Pausing, Tamara concentrated on her work for a moment, then went on, “I guess the main reason I’ve come is because my mother thought I needed a change of scene after . . . after my engagement ended.”

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Grandma said.

“I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.” Tamara sighed.

“Did you decide you weren’t ready to get married?” asked Maggie.

“Not actually.” Tamara hesitated, then added, “He jilted me.”

“How awful!” Maggie exclaimed. And she truly meant it. It was a sad thing to happen even to a rival.

“I keep trying to tell myself that it was God’s will.”

“And it surely is,” said Grandma, “but that still doesn’t prevent it from breaking your heart. It will get easier. How long ago did it happen?”

“I went to Boston last spring for my brother’s graduation from Harvard. When I returned home, I learned Jeffery had found someone else. I guess he realized he didn’t miss me as much as he should.”

“What a cad!” Maggie said.

“Now, Maggie,” said Grandma, “Tamara may still have feelings for the young man.”

“But he was terrible—” Maggie started to protest. Then she realized how advantageous it might be to her if Tamara did still love this fellow. Yet she wouldn’t wish even her worst enemy to be matched with someone so calloused.

“It’s okay,” Tamara said. “I don’t suppose I care about him anymore. He was my parents’ choice in the first place. Oh, I came to care for him, but not . . .” Her words trailed away, and she concentrated on her work.

Perhaps she realized she was sharing too much with people she hardly knew. But Maggie wanted to know more. “You didn’t love him?”

“Well, I’m nineteen years old. I didn’t want to be an old maid!” Tamara blurted the words like a painful confession.

“And now your parents want to match you with Colby Stod-dard?” Maggie ventured boldly.

Grandma stirred but said nothing. A few dishes rattled from her mother’s direction. Maggie had the feeling she’d get scolded later for her bluntness, but she’d worry about that later. Now she needed to know Tamara’s intentions.

“You know about that?” Tamara smiled a self-conscious smile. “Everyone must know.”

“Girls, we must concentrate on our sewing for a moment,” Grandma put in. “I’ve noticed you are having some difficulty threading your needles. We all have heard about wetting the end of the thread, and that often does the trick. I have another little hint—try wetting the eye of the needle.” She demonstrated with her needle and thread. It did work well.

The conversation didn’t get back to Tamara’s love life after that. Maggie had a suspicion that Grandma had purposely diverted the direction of the discussion. Maggie knew she had pushed too far. Tamara would probably never come back now and that, surprisingly, disappointed Maggie. Not only because of her schemes, but because she liked Tamara and also felt a little sorry for her. It must be hard for her to have her parents so dictate her life. Maggie complained often enough that her own parents, especially her mother, were always telling her what to do, but in reality, they were fairly lenient. Her mother made comments about her need to get ready for marriage, but never did she push her toward any one person. The closest she had come to doing that was when she had supported the idea of marrying the new minister. She’d learned her lesson from that and now was more reticent than ever on the subject of marriage.

After about an hour Grandma declared the lesson over for the day. She encouraged them to work on their projects on their own when they had a chance. She also welcomed Tamara to join them again. Tamara thanked her but made no firm commitment.

Maggie followed her outside. “Are you sure you want to walk home?” She knew Mr. Stoddard had brought Tamara and that she’d told him she would be happy to walk home. “It’s a good two miles to the Stoddard place.”

“Exercise will do me good.”

“We could lend you a saddle horse.”

“I don’t ride well.”

“You could ride with me. I don’t mind.”

“Thank you very much, but I’ll be all right.”

Maggie detected a coolness in her tone. “Tamara, I am sorry if I offended you earlier. Mama tells me I’m too curious for my own good.”

Tamara seemed surprised by the apology. “Don’t worry about it. Truly. Though it is a touchy subject . . . I thought I might want to talk about it, but in the end I was too embarrassed. My reticence had nothing to do with you. Honestly.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Maggie assured her. “It’s that fellow Jeffery who should be ashamed.”

“You have to be jilted yourself, Maggie, to know how it feels.” Her tone was slightly defensive, but it held no accusation. “You feel that when a man leaves you, it must be your fault, that you failed him in some way. And you fear that other men will find you objectionable, as well. I guess that’s why I jumped at the chance to come here where I wasn’t known. Yet that didn’t work out. My past has followed me.”

“It’s a small town.” Maggie wanted to say something to lift her spirits. “I’ll bet Colby doesn’t care about that other fellow. He seemed very attentive to you the other night.”

“But to know my mother was desperate enough to push me toward someone who, in her estimation, is beneath me is, in itself, humiliating!” When Maggie opened her mouth, about to defend Colby, Tamara added, “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think he, or anyone, is beneath me. But my mother would have wanted someone of more financial affluence though she likes the idea of a match with the son of an old family friend.”

“The Parkers have lots of money,” Maggie found herself saying. As much as she was conflicted about scheming, she couldn’t let this prime opportunity go.

Tamara rolled her eyes. “So everyone knows about Evan Parker, as well. He was never a real suitor because I was engaged at the time we were together in Boston.”

“Well, Colby isn’t the only eligible bachelor in these parts.” Maggie was only speaking the truth. There couldn’t be anything wrong with that.

“Evan was sweet. But Colby . . .” A blush of pink rose in Tamara’s cheeks. “He’s so marvelous.” She giggled.

With a sinking feeling, Maggie realized Tamara was already starting to fall in love with Colby.

TWELVE

Ada wondered if everyone would be at the schoolhouse for the Sewing Circle. Their usual day had to be changed to this the third Sunday in September because last Sunday Pastor Barnett had been able to come to Maintown and hold a service for the folks. It was kind of him to occasionally fit the Maintown Brethren of Christ Church into his schedule, even though they were of a different denomination.

Ada felt a bit awkward when she arrived at the schoolhouse for the Sewing Circle to find only Emma Jean present. She wondered how much Emma Jean realized about Maggie’s designs on her son. She also debated about whether to say something. Ada would like nothing more than to see her daughter and Emma Jean’s son get together. It hadn’t worked out with Ellie, but now there was a chance with Maggie.

Jane Donnelly had told Ada the other day that she had been talking to Hilda Fergus, who said she had heard from Emma Jean herself that she had invited Tamara Brennan specifically for the purpose of orchestrating a match between her and Colby. The conversation during Tamara’s sewing lesson seemed to confirm that. If that were so, Emma Jean would hardly wish to support a match between Maggie and Colby. Ada hoped it wasn’t the case because it would likely break Maggie’s heart.

“Good morning, Ada,” Emma Jean said as she arranged chairs around the frame.

Ada grabbed a chair and helped out. “Hello, Emma Jean. How are you?”

“I was hoping you were Nessa, that is, since we are doing her quilt for Kendra. We need to get it on the frame. That wedding will be here before you know it.”

“So very true! But you and I are early. I’m sure Nessa will be here in plenty of time.” Ada made a bit more fuss over the arrangement of the chairs than necessary just to have something to do.

“Miss Stowe did not do a very good job sweeping the floor on Friday.” Emma Jean bent to pick up a sliver of wood kindling. “I best get the broom.”

“I’ll put another log on the fire,” Ada offered. The room was chilly, indicating the morning air was cooling off with autumn just around the corner.

Emma Jean found the broom and, as she swept, said, “Oh, I have been meaning to mention how kind it was of your mother to agree to teach Tamara to sew. I offered to do it myself, but she felt I was too busy. I suppose I am with Albert taking to his bed more and more lately.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Emma Jean.” Ada knew Albert Stoddard had resigned from the Board of Deacons because of his health, but she hadn’t realized it was so serious. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You are busy, as well, with two weddings fast approaching and your mother visiting.”

“I could send Georgie over—”

“He’s already helping the men with the harvest, and soon school will start. His education should come first.” She paused as she bent to sweep the floor leavings into the dustpan. “We’ll manage.”

“Emma Jean, honestly, don’t be so proud.” Emma Jean could be difficult at times, but seeing her friend’s need helped Ada warm toward her. “The Sewing Circle will not stand to see you in need and not give a hand.”