Talk of the Town (9 page)

“Oh, sure.” Jack nodded. “Not always, but I can think of quite a few situations where people have gotten their animals back. It’s only been since Wednesday you say? Early days. Early days. Don’t give up yet.”

“All right.” Jane appreciated his encouragement. “That’s good to hear.”

“No problem. We squared away?”

“Yes. Thanks again for stopping by, Jack. My sisters and I really appreciate anything you can do.”

“Glad to be of service. Hope you find your cat.”

Jane saw him out, watching as he marched down the steps and off to his truck. “Okay, Wendell,” she whispered. “I’m not giving up, so you’d better not give up either.”

Alice came home before supper, as she had promised. Wearily, she sank into a chair in the kitchen. “No luck,” she said glumly.

“I refuse to get discouraged,” Jane said as she shaped a mixture of bleu cheese, hamburger and spices into meatballs for the marinara sauce she was making for dinner. “Jack O’Hara from Animal Control took one of our flyers and promised to keep an eye out for Wendell.”

“That’s good,” Louise said from the table where she was shredding lettuce into three bowls. “He could be a big help.”

“Let’s give it one more good search,” Alice proposed. “Tomorrow after church we all could go over to Potterston and make one last circuit of the area where he disappeared.”

“I’m game, as long as I have time to visit Mrs. Smeal for a few minutes first. I made her a batch of crème-de-menthe brownies today.” Then Jane pointed to the front of the house. “Did you see your mail on the desk, Alice? There’s a card there.”

“A card?” Alice looked interested but she made no move to get up as she massaged her aching arches. “Who is it from?”

“There is no return address,” Jane said. “Sit here and I’ll bring it to you.” She disappeared through the door to the hallway and returned a moment later, bearing a large ivory envelope, which she handed to Alice.

Alice examined the handwriting. “I’m not familiar with this penmanship.” She tore open the flap and extracted a lovely card with a watercolor picture of a calico cat sitting on a windowsill next to a pot of geraniums. The cat was in profile as it gazed out the window decorated with lacy curtains. Opening the card, Alice said, “Oh, isn’t this sweet.”

Louise leaned over. “Who is it from?”

“The ANGELs.” Alice reached for a tissue and read: “Dear Miss Howard, we hope you find Wendell soon. We all are saying prayers for him. Love…” She had to stop reading for a moment to dab at her eyes with the tissue. “They all signed it.” She scanned the various signatures. “Every single one of them.”

“That’s so thoughtful,” Louise said.

Alice nodded. “They are a thoughtful group. Let’s hope all those extra prayers help.”

Chapter Eight

A
fter Clothilda and her niece had left for dinner, Louise went to the piano. She had purchased a new book of music suitable for wedding celebrations, and she was eager to try it out. First warming up with several of her customary exercises, she then plunged into the book.

She quickly mastered the songs, which were not terribly challenging but beautifully arranged. After playing for nearly an hour, Louise closed the book and flexed her fingers.

The sudden sound of clapping startled her, and she whipped around on the piano bench in surprise. Since all the guests had gone out for dinner, she had not thought to close the door, and so her music had drifted throughout the house.

“Quite excellent, quite excellent.” Maxwell had come into the parlor sometime during her practice session and settled himself into one of the Victorian chairs. “You play quite well. Quite well, indeed.”

Louise felt herself bristle. She wasn’t sure why Maxwell had that effect on her but she felt as if his words were not the compliments they appeared to be, as if he were denigrating the level of skill to be found in a rural area such as Acorn Hill. “Thank you,” she said politely. “You startled me.”

He looked contrite. “I’m sorry. My father used to hate it when I ‘sneaked up on him,’ as he called it. I didn’t intend to do that to you. I was just enjoying your music.”

Her ruffled feathers began to lie down again at the sincerity in his tone, and Louise smiled. “I enjoy it too. Playing piano is one of the most soothing activities I can think of. I always feel more centered and relaxed when I’m done.”

“The mark of a true musician,” the young man said lightly.

“So are you finding the atmosphere of Acorn Hill and the inn conducive to a productive writing process?” She placed her music in the piano bench and closed the tapestry cover, then took a seat near Maxwell.

“Very much so. Everyone’s been very kind, and this mysterious creature that people are buzzing about really has me intrigued.”

Louise waved a hand as if to downplay the gossip. “I’m sure it will turn out to be some local creature, or perhaps a prankster.”

“A prankster?” The young man leaned forward. “What makes you suspect that? Do you have any evidence?”

“No, no.” Louise was a bit taken aback by his intensity. “It’s just that I am quite certain no undiscovered giant creature is lurking about Acorn Hill.”

“I’m not inclined to believe it, either,” Maxwell confessed, “but I am keeping an open mind.”

Louise felt rebuked by the statement. “I suppose I’m not, but I am very much a person who requires tangible evidence before I believe something.”

“But you go to church, don’t you?”

The unexpected question threw her, and she simply stared at him for a moment. “I—I—you cannot compare spiritual beliefs to the existence of an animal!” She was frustrated and more than a little annoyed that he would try to trap her with her own words.

“I’m sorry, Louise,” he said immediately. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I was not raised in a church, or with any kind of spiritual guidance.”

Louise took a deep breath and said a silent prayer for patience, moved by a sudden image of a lonely little boy to whom scant attention was paid. “The whole point of spiritual faith is the ability to see the miraculous in the everyday things, and to trust that if God can create such miracles as those around us in our daily lives, then He certainly is capable of larger actions. The ultimate miracle, of course, being the risen Christ after the death of His earthly body.”

Maxwell was silent for a moment. “You know,” he finally said, “I consider myself highly educated compared to the average person. But I am appallingly ignorant of all but the sketchiest details of the Christian faith—or any other, for that matter. Would you and your sisters allow me to accompany you to church tomorrow?”

Louise was astonished at the request. “Of course you may. Our newest guest, Mrs. Moeller will be going with us. We would like very much for you to join our party.”

Maxwell smiled. “The words ‘party’ and ‘church’ don’t mesh well in my mind.”

“Well, they should,” Louise said. “Expressions of faith should be joyous—exuberant, even, on some occasions.”

There was a short silence following Louise’s words. She felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“Louise…” Maxwell’s voice was hesitant. “I wonder if you have a Bible I might borrow. You have made me curious, and I think I would like to study it.”

“I do, and I have something else you might enjoy. Follow me.” Louise rose, heading for the library, once her father’s office, where an extensive collection of faith-based volumes were still stored. “There’s a book my father used to love. He gave it to my daughter Cynthia when she joined our church in Philadelphia many years ago. It is meant to be used as a study aid with the Bible and is an excellent overview of the history of Christianity. I’m sure my sisters would want me to lend it to you while you are staying with us.”

“Thank you.” Maxwell’s voice was soft. “I will look forward to reading both books.”

“And any time you have questions, Alice, Jane and I would be delighted to talk with you.”

After leaving Maxwell sitting in the library with the Bible and the study guide, Louise went in search of her sisters. She was eager to tell them of the surprising turn of events.

Clothilda and her niece Amanda returned from dinner shortly before eight. Jane introduced them to Louise and Alice, and then Amanda bid her aunt farewell.

“I’ll be back to get you in eighteen days,” the young woman told Clothilda.

Clothilda nodded. “I will be… okay with this good people.”

Jane beamed. “Of course you will. We’ll take the very best care of you. And don’t forget, our aunt, Ethel Buckley, speaks German and is eager to meet you.”

“Oh, good,” said Amanda. “Her lack of English was my biggest hesitation in leaving Aunt Clo.”

“Is not a problem. You go, come back after two weeks. Okay?”

Amanda laughed. “Okay.” She kissed her aunt, said good-bye to the Howard sisters and walked off to her car to begin her drive back to Philadelphia.

Clothilda smiled at the sisters, and then covered her mouth with a yawn. “Excuse me. I am finding this traveling to be… to make me sleepy very much.”

Alice chuckled. “I work as a nurse, and I, too, am very sleepy. I’ll be going to bed very soon.”

“I think I go up now and maybe read and fall asleep. Thank you for your welcoming. I look forward to your breakfast and your church tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Jane said. “Good night, Clothilda.”

Jane had called Ethel on Saturday evening to let her know Clothilda had arrived. So early on Sunday morning, Jane was not surprised to see her aunt picking her way along the path from the carriage house where she made her home.

“Good morning,” Jane sang out as Ethel came in the back door.

“Good morning, Jane.”

“Would you like some breakfast, Aunt Ethel?”

“Why, thank you, dear. That would be lovely.” She patted her hair as if a strand had slipped out of place. “I thought your Mrs. Moeller might enjoy company during breakfast this morning.”

“I’m sure she would.” Jane indicated the swinging door to the dining room. “She’s already seated. Let me introduce you.” She led the way, tossing over her shoulder, “I know you like salmon. This morning I am serving an egg dish with hollandaise sauce, along with baked apple and blackberries crepes drizzled with sweet cream, and a Black Russian breakfast cake.”

“My goodness,” murmured Ethel. “You outdo yourself every time I come over here, Jane.”

When Jane and Ethel stepped into the dining room, Maxwell and Miss Havishim appeared to be having an animated conversation. As Jane waited to introduce Ethel, she heard mention of Freud, Bruno Bethelheim and operant conditioning.

When Miss Havishim and Maxwell sensed her presence and looked up from their discussion, Jane said, “Clothilda, Miss Havishim, this is my aunt, Ethel Buckley. Clothilda, you spoke with Aunt Ethel the day you made your reservation.”

Clothilda and Miss Havishim both greeted Ethel warmly.

“Good morning, Mrs. Buckley,” Maxwell said, rising courteously. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And you,” Ethel returned. “What kind of pie are you planning to have today?”

She and Maxwell both laughed as Ethel took a seat next to Clothilda. “Ah! Ethel,” Clothilda said, her round face flushing with emotion. “You were very kind to help me when I had trouble speaking English.”

“It was nothing,” Ethel demurred. “I have not spoken German in many years, and it was exciting to realize how much of it I still know.”

“You spoke it very well.”

“Thank you. Would you like to talk in German?”

Jane slipped back to the kitchen, smiling, as the sound of the two women conversing in German flowed behind her, interspersed with two other voices murmuring about intermittent reinforcement and something about teaching sign language to monkeys.

The next forty minutes were busy ones as Jane completed her meal preparations and she and her sisters served the guests.

Alice, Louise and Jane ate their own breakfast in the kitchen and then cleared the guests’ dishes. Amid all the activity, Clothilda and Ethel chatted in German. After the meal, Jane noticed that Clothilda had produced a number of papers over which she and Ethel were poring. Jane was dying to know what the two were talking about, but she was pressed for time after the dishes were done and had to hurry to her room to get ready for church.

When she came down, Alice, Louise, Maxwell, Clothilda and Ethel all were gathered in the front hallway.

“Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to church we go,” called Jane as she got to the bottom step.

Amid a general chorus of laughter and comments, the group left the inn and walked toward Grace Chapel.

The service was uplifting for Alice. Since Wendell’s disappearance, she had felt as if she’d been walking under a cloud that moved in whatever direction she did. It was nice to feel that cloud dissipating, even if her concern for Wendell had not eased.

Rev. Thompson’s message was about seeking divine aid to discern heavenly bidding. Last night, Louise had spoken to Alice and Jane about Maxwell’s interest in learning about faith. This morning, Alice occasionally sneaked glances at him, wondering what he would take away from the experience, whether he would feel blessed by the Holy Spirit and empowered to continue to seek Christ in his life.