Sister's Choice (14 page)

Emma Jean sighed, and her usually steely demeanor softened. “I forget what good friends I have.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Ada said, “We enjoyed Tamara’s visit. She’s a sweet girl. She told us she has just ended an engagement.”

“There are no secrets in this town, are there?” Emma Jean gave a little roll of her eyes. “Yes, it is true. But I hope to rectify that situation.”

“How is that?” Ada queried as casually as she could.

“I have a perfectly eligible son, don’t you know?”

“Colby is courting Tamara?”

“Not yet, but it is only a matter of time.” Emma Jean dumped the dustpan into the woodbox. “They make a fine match.”

“I am surprised Colby has not set his sights on a local girl.”

“You know very well he did,” Emma Jean said stiffly. “But when Ellie turned down his proposals, I suppose he was shy of courting other girls right away. Enough time has passed, I think—”

“What are you saying, Emma Jean?” Ada’s mind was reeling. “Colby proposed marriage to my Ellie?”

“I’m not surprised you didn’t know. I didn’t learn of it myself until recently.”

“They must have thought there was no need to say anything, since nothing came of it,” Ada reasoned. Yet she did feel a little hurt that her daughter hadn’t confided such a momentous event to her. What else was she in the dark about regarding her children? Was she so critical of them that they feared to tell her things? That might be the case with Maggie, who often warranted more criticism, but Ellie?

Ada was glad when the other ladies began to arrive to distract her worries. She would have to give this more thought later. She did not wish to put her children off from her.

Once the other women arrived, Ada welcomed the soothing process of quilting and visiting with her friends. Nessa decided they should put a pretty green-and-pink quilt in the Double Irish Chain pattern on the frame first. Nessa and Kendra had marked a feathered wreath quilting design in the large spaces that were of muslin. Because it was an intricate design, they were likely to get only the one quilt done that day, but Nessa said Kendra wouldn’t mind if this was her only finished quilt. It was her favorite.

Ada took that as the perfect opportunity to bring up the quilting party. Nessa was so thrilled they would do that for her daughter that she turned as pink as the fabric in the quilt. Nessa never expected people to pay attention to her, so it didn’t take much to please her.

At midday the ladies took a break. They rose, stretched, then took their lunch pails and sat in a circle to eat. Ada had noticed that Florence Parker was quieter than usual. She had not arrived with her usual fanfare, nor with some tale of an escapade to share. Ada had felt certain she would bore them to death with more bragging about her son or her daughter’s recent engagement to a wealthy Astorian.

Mary Renolds must have noticed this, as well, because she asked, “Is everything all right, Florence? You have been quiet all morning.”

“I don’t want to cause a stir. That’s all.” Florence’s gaze flickered in Ada’s direction.

“What are you talking about?” Emma Jean demanded. “Now you’ve got us all curious. What is going on?”

Florence sighed heavily. “It’s my son. I’m just worried about him.”

“Just the other day you were proud as a peacock over him,” said Polly Briggs.

“Of course I am still proud of him,” Florence said. “But I fear he will throw away all his talent and education by remaining in this obscure, backwater town.”

“I should think you’d be thrilled for him to be close to you,” Mary said.

“Not when it means his giving up all that Boston has to offer. Harvard graduates go on to far more prestige than country lawyers. They rise to the highest pinnacles of power. Now he is talking about giving all that up and staying here.”

“Perhaps he could become a lawyer in Portland or Seattle,” offered Emma Jean. To most of the folks here, Portland and Seattle were high enough.

Florence merely pursed her lips disdainfully at that comment. Ada remained quiet. Though Evan had been to their house for dinner, she didn’t feel she knew the boy well enough to make comment on his future. Thus her shock when Florence lifted her gaze to squarely meet Ada’s.

“Ada, it doesn’t help that your daughter has manipulated Evan into taking Tommy Donnelly’s case.”

Ada’s jaw dropped. “Maggie?” She was so shocked at being suddenly thrust into the middle of this that she could think of nothing to say.

“Yes. She put it into his head to do this.” Florence glanced at Jane Donnelly. “Please don’t take me wrong, Jane. I don’t begrudge Tommy the best legal counsel there is, but if Evan takes cases here, he will never return to the Boston firm.”

“You can’t blame Maggie for this,” Ada said when she found her tongue.

“She’s the one who orchestrated it,” Florence said.

“Maggie had the best intentions,” Jane Donnelly replied.

“She wanted to help Tommy. But if this upsets you, I will go back to the Portland lawyer.”

“That wouldn’t help now,” Florence replied with frustration. “Evan is set on taking Tommy’s case. And if he knew I had interfered—”

“Looks to me like you are already interfering.” Ada’s voice trembled in belated ire. “And I’ll dare you to try to cast blame upon my daughter! It is entirely Evan’s fault if he is so weak as to be led around by a mere girl!”

“Ladies, please!” Emma Jean tried to intercede.

Florence cut her off. “If you want to begin name-calling . . .”

Ada was horrified at how quickly the matter had escalated. It had been a long time since she and Florence had squared off like this. Now she understood the wisdom in their careful avoidance of each other.

Quickly she said, “Florence, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to degrade Evan. I was just a mother protecting her cub. Forgive me.”

“All right,” Florence responded, still an edge to her tone. “But perhaps it would be best if those two didn’t see so much of each other.”

“I try not to dictate my children’s friends—and I assure you, it is nothing more.”

“I never thought it was!” Florence as much as implied that Evan was far too good for the likes of Ada’s daughter.

Ada nearly bit her tongue in trying not to make a caustic retort.

“Let’s get back to our quilting,” Mary suggested.

“We have quite a bit more to do,” Emma Jean put in.

But the afternoon never returned to its semblance of peace. The silence between Florence and Ada was deafening. The others tried to fill it with their usual conversation. Ada had been on the verge of leaving after the confrontation but decided to remain. She knew that once she departed under such circumstances, it would be hard to return next time. And if she kept away, Jane and a few others might do so, as well, to support her. Ada knew that the pain of her Sewing Circle splitting would be far greater than the tension she felt around the frame today.

If she stuck it out now, the conflict would probably blow over before the next time they met. She hoped and prayed so.

When Ada returned home from Sewing Circle, she said nothing about the confrontation. She certainly was not going to forbid Maggie from seeing Evan. Never in the past had the differences between her and Florence spilled over into their families, and she wasn’t about to let it happen now. If Florence chose to take that route, the repercussions would be on her head.

When Ellie appeared to note her mother’s pensive demeanor, Ada brought up her concern about the Stoddard family since Mr. Stoddard’s illness, as though that accounted for her melancholy. She suggested the possibility of Maggie helping out and was pleased with her daughter’s positive response.

She was also pleased with herself for making the suggestion. Though Maggie would have been willing to help a neighbor in need, there was a little more in her expression than merely doing a good deed might warrant. Helping at the Stoddards’ might also give Maggie opportunity to visit Colby.

Ada couldn’t help herself. Why shouldn’t she play matchmaker in her daughter’s interest? How much good it would actually do with Colby out in the fields most of the time, she didn’t know. But it was something, and Maggie was resourceful if nothing else.

When Maggie smiled, Ada found she liked the feeling of not being at odds with her younger daughter, as she had seemed to be so often lately.

“Oh, and by the by, I spoke with Mrs. Wallard about having a quilting for Kendra on Saturday, and she was tickled about it. All the ladies will be there and, of course, later the menfolk.”

As much as Ada was enjoying helping Maggie for a change and seeing good results, she prayed that soon her daughters would be married so she could be finished with all this romantic tomfoolery. And that did remind her to be diligent in praying in the real sense for these things. God had surely worked for good the mess with the false minister, and He would do the same regarding Maggie.

THIRTEEN

Evan could not get to his dancing lesson until Tuesday afternoon. He’d been to Portland Monday and spoken with the lawyer who was happy to release Tommy’s case. Evan said the lawyer had been busy with other clients, though Maggie thought there might be more to it. However, she was too anxious to get to the dancing to question Evan further.

She’d enlisted Ellie’s help, and Mama had let them move aside some of the furniture in the parlor. Mama had wondered why they couldn’t use the front room, and Maggie said she thought Evan might not feel comfortable practicing in front of the whole family. At that hour in the afternoon it would be only Mama and Grandma, but still, that might put him off a bit.

“Evan, we are going to learn a couple of reels today,” Maggie began, just as a schoolteacher might begin a lesson.

He looked relieved. She supposed he’d been worried about waltzing. Wisely, Maggie thought they should start with something easy.

Ellie was going to keep the beat for them and dance when needed.

“It’s going to be hard to learn a reel with only three people,” Maggie said, “but I’ve lined up some chairs that will represent the other dancers.” She noticed Evan casting the chairs a skeptical look. “Honestly, Evan, this is easy. You can’t mess up a reel.” She held out her hand. “Come on, let’s stand at the beginning of the row.”

Obediently he moved to the head of the chairs, standing on the right, in the “men’s” line, with Maggie on the left in the “ladies’ ” line. Ellie clapped the beat.

“Right hands,” Maggie instructed. “Turn your partner.”

Evan grasped Maggie’s right hand with more force than was necessary, and in the process somehow got his foot caught on a chair leg. He lost his balance, tottered a moment, tried to grasp the chair, missed, knocked the chair over, and nearly went down himself. Instead, he stumbled back until he plopped on the nearby sofa. The overturned chair, however, made a terrible racket as it banged against the other chairs.

“What is going on in there?” Mama called from the kitchen.

“Nothing’s broken, Mama!” Maggie replied, then glanced at Evan. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Clearly humiliated, Evan scrambled to his feet. “This is a mistake!” he mumbled. “I am too clumsy for dancing.”

“It’s just because you are nervous,” Ellie consoled.

“You don’t have to be nervous around us,” Maggie assured him. “We’re friends.”

“I get nervous around everyone, but mostly around women!” he confessed.

Maggie could just imagine what a spectacle he had presented in front of Tamara, a woman he really cared about.

“It is different with friends,” Maggie insisted. “We’re going to like you no matter what. Isn’t that right, Ellie?”

“That is what friends do,” Ellie agreed.

“Truly?”

“Haven’t you ever had a friend, Evan?”

“Not many,” he replied hesitantly.

“Tamara’s brother? Wasn’t he a friend?”

Fiddling with his spectacles, he said solemnly, “I’d probably call him more of an acquaintance. You know how it was here . . . well, that’s how it has been my entire life. It is easier to read a book than get to know someone.”

“That’s got to change,” Maggie insisted. “You are a great person. Tamara thinks you are sweet.”

“Sweet? She said that?”

“Yes, she did, right in this very house. I am not kidding.” To her surprise, instead of this information encouraging him, he got a sick look on his face. “Now what’s wrong?” she asked a bit impatiently.

“What man wants a woman to think he is sweet!” Evan shoved his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “That’s as bad as being ‘like a brother.’ ”

Maggie turned to Ellie for help. “You think Zack is sweet, don’t you, Ellie?”

Caught by surprise, Ellie stumbled. “Sweet . . . ah . . . well, yes . . . I suppose so.”

“I have met Mr. Hartley,” Evan said. “I doubt most women would describe him as
sweet
. Dashing, handsome, charming, yes. And what of your Colby, Maggie? Do you think he is sweet?” His frustration gave more force to his voice than usual. For once, he sounded like he could be a lawyer orating in a courtroom.

Maggie was reminded of how Tamara had finished her comment about Evan, saying Colby was “marvelous.” That Colby had won in the comparison had been clear.

“Well, then, if you don’t want her to think that about you,” Maggie said decisively, “you’d better learn to dance. Take my hand and let’s try this again.”

Doggedly he complied. He bumped a few more chairs, nearly crushed Ellie’s foot once, and tripped Maggie a couple of times, but they made it through the reel. It was like trying to lead a bull through a patch of daisies without crushing a flower, but the whole patch was pretty well crushed by the time they finished. Evan looked ready to bolt.

“One more time!” Maggie demanded.

He wanted to protest but didn’t. Instead, he grasped her hand, wearing the look of a man stepping out on a gangplank.

“Right-hand turn!” Maggie called. “Left-hand turn! Do-si-do with your partner!” There was a bit of a mix-up as they went around each other back to back, but it was better than before. “Sashay down the center! Evan! You are doing great!”

His confidence grew as they proceeded to “reel the set.” His intense frown of concentration relaxed into a slight smile. He and Maggie hooked elbows, turned once so that she was facing the “men’s” line and he was facing the “ladies’.” They were each to pretend to turn an imaginary partner. Evan had just swung out of turning Maggie and was moving fluidly, seeming finally to be getting the hang of it. Then, moving a bit too fluidly with an imaginary person on his arm and turning too quickly, he stumbled toward the fireplace mantel and bumped a china vase—Mama’s precious vase she had bought in Portland a few years ago. Maggie watched helplessly as the vase toppled from the ledge. She was too far away to do anything, but Ellie saw it and leaped forward, catching the precious thing before it hit the floor.