Sister's Choice (18 page)

“I love him more each day, and I like him more every day I get to know him better!” Ellie said emphatically. “I talked to him about what Mama said, and he feels we should wait to marry, maybe a whole year, at least till next summer.”

“And you were hoping for a Christmas wedding.”

“Perhaps Christmas of eighty-four,” Ellie said glumly.

“You sure don’t want to be poor as church mice when you marry,” Maggie said, surprising even herself at her practicality. “You’re going to want children, and you don’t want to live like the Arlingtons. Poor Louise looks ten years older than her twenty-five years. She works harder than anyone I ever saw—taking care of three kids, practically running the farm all the time because Lewis has to go away for work so often to make ends meet. I doubt even Mama and Dad had it that hard when they first married.”

“To hear such wisdom from you, Mags, makes me truly think twice.” She looked pale but smiled all the same. “You really are maturing, aren’t you?”

“Maybe where other people’s love lives are concerned.” Maggie dunked her head into the water, massaging the soap out of her hair. When she lifted out her head, Ellie handed her a towel to dry her eyes. “I can’t seem to get it right with Colby. I’m spending all my time with Evan to help him win Tamara in order to get her away from Colby. In the meantime Tamara and Colby are probably spending tons of time together.”

Maggie groaned. “Everything I do only makes it worse!” She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself as she stepped from the tub.

“Maybe the party Saturday will help,” Ellie offered hopefully.

“I hope so. I am running out of ideas.”

SIXTEEN

Maggie was a domestic wonder for the next two days. Besides Evan’s dancing lessons and sewing lessons with Tamara, she worked with Grandma and Ellie baking for the party. Mama helped with this, as well, as Maggie knew she would. Maybe the delicious smells wafting through the house also motivated Maggie with her sewing. She finished the first three blocks for her sampler, and they looked quite nice—perhaps nicer than Tamara’s, though Maggie would never say so.

The day of the party was perfect. It was one of those beautiful September days that made you think it was still summer. The earlier rainy days had cleaned everything off, leaving a sparkle to the landscape. It was sunny and warm enough to hold the festivities outdoors, and like the previous party, the quilting frames were set up outside. The ladies would quilt all day and then later, when the party began, the refreshment table would be set up outside, as well, with lanterns strung around the yard for light.

The quilting bee for Kendra’s wedding quilts got the day off to a great start. With Maggie seated at a frame beside Grandma, and Tamara on the other side, Grandma instructed them both on their quilting stitches.

When Mrs. Stoddard walked by, she actually paused and complimented Maggie’s work. Maggie swelled with pride, and hope. The fact that Mrs. Stoddard’s comments about Tamara’s work weren’t quite as enthusiastic didn’t give Maggie as much pleasure as she would have imagined. In fact, when Tamara asked Maggie for help, Maggie gladly gave it. She didn’t mention that she had been practicing on the sly in her free time. Ellie had given her a doll quilt she had started years ago but hadn’t finished, and Maggie had been working on it, her quilting stitches getting smaller and more even with each try.

When the dancing started later in the evening, her confidence was soaring. The first reel was announced, and the men fanned out to ask girls to dance. Maggie had her eye surreptitiously on Colby and was certain he was heading in her direction. But before he could reach her, Evan appeared at her side.

“May I have this dance, Maggie?” he asked.

Out of the corner of her mouth, she murmured, “What are you doing? You’re supposed to ask Tamara.”

“I . . . ah . . . thought just a little practice dance first,” he stammered. “You know, to make sure I have it right.”

“You’ll do fine,” she said with forced patience. But she saw Colby change his direction and now head for Tamara. It was too late. “Okay, one dance.” She gave Evan her hand.

The dancers lined up, there being enough for two sets of six couples. Maggie made sure she and Evan were in the same set with Colby. At least she would get to dance some of the moves with him.

The music started. Evan turned her right hand, then turned her left hand. He did very well, though his expression was etched with deep concentration and his lips moved slightly as he silently counted the beats.

“Do-si-do!” called one of the musicians. Evan stepped on her toe once, but she pretended not to notice. He became flustered and almost did it again. This time she laughed and skipped out of his way as if it was part of the dance. When it was their turn to sashay down the middle of the line, she whispered, “Evan, smile. Act like you’re having a good time.”

“I am having a good time.”

“You look like you’re being tortured.”

“Oh.” He plastered a smile on his face, and though Maggie couldn’t say the stilted expression was an improvement, at least he was trying.

When it was time to “reel the set,” Maggie worried about letting Evan be on his own. However, there was no choice. It was their turn to hook elbows and dance a turn with new partners all the way down the row. She uttered a silent prayer that he wouldn’t hurt any of the girls. She heard a couple of feminine yelps, but when they met back in the middle, he smiled at her. Apparently he hadn’t done too badly.

After the dance Maggie made sure she and Evan were standing next to Colby and Tamara so that when the next dance began, there would be no mistake in the pairing up. Even at that she had to give Evan a covert elbow in the ribs to remind him to ask Tamara. He finally did, and it was quite natural, since they were both right there, for Colby to ask Maggie.

Everything started going wonderfully for Maggie. When another reel started, Maggie managed to nudge Colby over to the refreshment table while Evan and Tamara lined up for the dance.

“All that dancing works up an appetite,” Maggie said.

“That’s the truth!” Colby agreed. He grabbed a couple of plates, handed one to Maggie, then began piling food onto his. “Besides, my feet are killing me. I’ve been working twelve, fifteen hours a day between the farm and the mill. Don’t know how I found the strength to dance anyway.”

“You poor dear!” Maggie said with doting sympathy. They went to sit on one of the benches Dad had set about the yard. “I have been meaning to mention that I want to come to your place and lend a hand with the chores. The families of the Sewing Circle want to help out until your father gets back on his feet.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, but with Tamara and Sarah, Mother has plenty of help in the house—”

“I was thinking of helping you, Colby,” Maggie said quickly. “I can help with feeding the animals, cleaning out the barn, whatever you need.”

He smiled. “I guess I almost forgot, with you wearing dresses lately, that you are as good as any fellow on the farm.”

She thought that was a compliment and smiled back. “I can come over Monday, and you can show me what needs to be done.”

They concentrated on their food for a few moments, but Colby’s earlier statement about all the work he was doing gave her another idea.

“Colby, you know the old adage, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ Not that you could ever be dull, but I expect you might need some fun, too.”

“This party sure fits the bill!”

“Yes . . . well . . .” She hesitated, knowing what she was about to ask was terribly brazen, but she’d begun to think that her working at the Stoddard farm wasn’t going to be enough to grab Colby’s romantic interest. “This weather isn’t going to last forever,” she went on in a rush. “I think you—uh—we, need a picnic. You aren’t planning to work tomorrow, are you? It’s Sunday.”

“Just the regular chores.”

“Then how about it?”

“Will you bring your mama’s apple spice cake?” he asked with a grin.

“You can count on it!” She grinned back at him. A picnic with Colby! Could life be more perfect?

When she looked up, Evan and Tamara were approaching with plates of food. Maggie had been so absorbed with Colby she hadn’t even noticed that the reel had ended. Tamara didn’t look too distressed, so it must have gone well with Evan. However, though they were walking side by side, they did not appear at ease, especially Evan, who seemed rather stiff, until he saw Maggie. Then he smiled.

“May we share the bench with you?” Evan asked.

There was room for four on the bench, but Maggie was loath to give up her time alone with Colby. Scooting closer to Colby, she consoled herself with the fact that she and Colby would have all afternoon tomorrow together. Evan sat in the space next to her, and before she could get Colby to move over, Tamara had taken the space on the other side of Colby.

Did she have to do everything for Evan? He should have assessed the situation and made sure he sat next to Tamara.

Tamara fanned herself. “Goodness, I haven’t danced so much in ages! This is such an enjoyable party.”

“Say, I’ve just had a terrific idea,” Colby said. “Maggie and I were talking about extending the fun into tomorrow by having a picnic. Why don’t you join us?”

Maggie nearly dropped her plate. Her mind raced, trying to think of reasons why Tamara shouldn’t join them, but she came up blank.

“Oh, I’d love to!” Tamara enthused.

“Of course, you must come, too, Evan.” It was all Maggie could think of to salvage the disaster.

Maggie was up the next morning while it was still dark in order to make apple spice cake. When Mama came down an hour later, she was greeted by a cloud of flour dust in the air, pans and bowls everywhere, and Maggie up to her elbows in flour and batter.

The look on Mama’s face indicated she’d been awakened by the clatter and wasn’t happy about it. “What is going on? You are going to wake the dead.”

“I’m making spice cake for the picnic,” Maggie said, unconsciously lifting the wooden spoon she was using to stir the cake batter and spewing batter all over, just missing Mama.

“What picnic?” Mama asked, moving quickly out of the line of fire.

“Uh . . . some friends and I are going on a picnic today.”

“We have church today. What friends?”

“After church,” Maggie said, hoping to deflect Mama’s final question. “I wouldn’t miss church. It was so nice of Reverend Barnett to include us again in his circuit this month.”

“Well, I am of the opinion he is merely attempting to proselytize us, but your father believes we should support his kind offer.”

Maggie knew her parents had had a disagreement about this matter. Since the Brethren of Christ back East still hadn’t come up with a new minister—and they could not promise one in the near future—many of the Brethren folk were seriously considering switching churches. Mama and Dad, like the community itself, were somewhat divided on the issue. Mama had been raised in the Brethren of Christ church while Dad had grown up Methodist. Dad felt, and Maggie had to agree, that the two denominations were alike enough that it made little difference which church they attended.

The county board of deacons for the Brethren of Christ, of which Dad was a member, had decided that they must be unanimous on the issue so that there would be no split in the church. Because of this, no definite decision had been made about whether to meld the Brethren with the Methodists. However, there was another contingent that felt they ought to reinstate Zack as their minister. Dad and Zack had talked about it at supper one night.

“If you felt a true calling from God in this, Zack,” Dad had said, “there would be no reason why you couldn’t be our real minister.”

Zack had stared back in shock. He had known about the growing interest in having him return to the duties of minister but hadn’t placed much stock in it. “I don’t see how I could do it, Mr. Newcomb. People would want to get married and baptized and all manner of things that I avoided doing before because I wasn’t a real minister.”

“I have written to the denomination headquarters,” Dad said, “and laid out our situation here. I mentioned you and how the folks felt about having you as their minister. I haven’t heard back yet, but I don’t think it is as impossible as you might think. With the shortage of ministers, a man with a Call could be accepted and certified—I think. We’ll have to wait the final word from back East.”

Plaintively Zack had asked, “How does a man know if he has a Call from God?”

“Best way is to pray about it, I reckon.”

Zack glanced at Ellie, who had kept her eyes focused on her hands. She had been remaining studiously impartial on this issue. She loved Zack as he was and would never want it to seem he was doing this for her.

“I’ve been doing that, sir,” Zack had replied.

Nothing more had come of it since that conversation. Of course Maggie hoped Zack would be their minister. Wouldn’t it be grand if he could preside over her and Colby’s wedding? But as wedding bells began chiming in her head, she remembered Mama standing there and the messy kitchen to be dealt with.

Mama sighed. “Did you follow my recipe exactly?”

“Yes, I tried. Goodness, this isn’t an easy cake to make. Apples to grate, a half dozen spices to measure, butter to cream. Where is your cake pan?” She was glad she didn’t have to give more details about the picnic. She didn’t think Mama would mind who was going, but it might come out that she had asked Colby, and Mama wouldn’t like such forwardness in her daughter.

Mama got a pan from a cupboard and then went to the stove. “You’ll need more wood on the fire to get the oven hot enough,” she commented as she spread lard on the pan.

“Well, aren’t we early birds this morning!” Grandma said, coming down the stairs.

“Maggie got it in her head to make a cake,” Mama said.

“Why don’t you two work on that, and I’ll start breakfast,” Grandma offered.

“I’ll go gather the eggs and get a ham from the smokehouse,” Mama said. “Maggie, will you want some for your picnic?”

“That would be nice.” Maggie gave Mama a big appreciative smile. She knew her mother was giving her great latitude, for egg gathering was usually Maggie’s job.