The Preacher's Wife

He held his mouth in a grim line, but he answered, “‘Widower’ is the term for a man.”

“Why?”

“You’ve asked enough questions for one meal,” he said. “Let Mrs. Randolph finish her breakfast.”

“Yes, sir.” Anna picked up her fork.

Sam explained that he’d be back that afternoon and what their choices were. “When I return, I’ll expect you to have decided whether or not you’re coming with me when I go calling.”

Anna sat on the edge of her chair and beseeched her father with eyes open wide. Her eagerness to say something forced Josie to hold back a laugh.

Samuel set down his cup. “What do you want to ask, Anna?”

Her expression showed her relief. “Who’s gonna help me with my letters and numbers?”

Elisabeth and Abigail glanced at each other. Apparently their mother had guided their lessons.

“Until we move on to Colorado and get you settled in a school, Elisabeth will help you.”

Anna frowned at her older sister. “She doesn’t do it the way Mama did.”

“Regardless, she will be your helper over the summer. You will answer to me if she reports you’ve given her any difficulty. Understood?”

His youngest daughter sat back meekly. “Yes, sir.”

He strode from the room.

Elisabeth was an efficient yet silent helper. After the meal was cleaned up, Josie got out the washtubs and heated water. She showed the girls how to make proper suds, scrub the towels and sheets on the washboard, then rinse and run them through the wringer. Anna thought the wringer was great fun, though she needed help to turn it as thick material was fed through.

Elisabeth was the tallest as well as the most precise when it came to hanging the laundry to dry, so she helped Josie while Abigail moved the baskets and handed them clothespins. Elisabeth performed the task capably, spacing the garments just so, using the same number of pins for each neatly stretched sheet.

“You do such a perfect job,” Josie told her. “I’d never know you hadn’t done this a hundred times before.”

Without a word, Elisabeth clamped the last wooden pin to the final pillowcase and wiped her hands on the apron Josie had loaned her. Josie knew the girl would have much preferred her father pay to have the task performed, but that wasn’t because she was lazy. Her work had proven that.

At noon Josie sliced ham and cheese for sandwiches. Samuel hadn’t returned yet, and she invited the girls to eat in the study with the reverend. From the pleased look on his face, their young guests were just the medicine he needed. Several church members had been faithful visitors and he’d even held a Wednesday-evening study at the house the past few weeks, but months of pain and inactivity had grated on the man who was accustomed to being active and independent.

“Maybe there’s a skillful checker player in our midst today,” Josie suggested.

Reverend Martin’s amused gaze shot to hers. “Your implication has been recorded.”

Glad to see him in a cheerful mood, she laughed and a discussion of who would play checkers ensued. “Do you like bread pudding?” she finally asked to deter the subject.

“I love it,” Abigail replied. “Mama always made lemon sauce.”

“I think I’ll make a pan. Would you like to help? I’ll go home for my cookbook and find a recipe for lemon sauce.”

Abigail’s face lit up, but her glance edged to her older sister.

“What about going calling with Father?” Elisabeth asked.

“Papa said we could decide,” Abigail replied. “I want to stay here and bake.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going with Father.”

“Can I come to your house with you?” Anna asked.

“I’d love your company,” Josie replied. “It’s just a short walk.”

“Do you have a dog or a cat?”

Josie shook her head.

“I have Daisy,” Reverend Martin said. “Silly cat’s been hiding since yesterday.”

“You have a cat?” Anna asked.

“I’m guessing she’s in that bedroom there. She likes to lie on the window seat in the sun. I wouldn’t try to catch her. She might scratch you.”

A little while later, Anna enjoyed the yards they passed and asked about the neighbors. Once they reached Josie’s, she was fascinated by everything in the house, not touching, but commenting and asking questions.

“Did you live here when you were a little girl?” she asked.

“No,” Josie answered. “My father traveled a lot, and my mother and I often stayed at my grandmother’s.”

“How come you don’t have any little girls or boys?”

If Josie couldn’t answer that for herself, she certainly didn’t know how to explain it to a nine-year-old. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I just don’t.”

“Do you want a baby?”

Josie appreciated her innocent candor. She stopped in front of the cupboard where she’d gone to find a cookbook and looked down at Anna. “I wanted a baby very much,” she said honestly. “But I have friends and tasks to keep me busy, and I think about the good things I do have, rather than what I don’t have.”

“That’s prob’ly good,” Anna said convincingly. She watched Josie select a cookbook. “Was it hard to not think about your mama at first? ’Cause I think about my mama a lot, and it makes me sad.”

“I still think about her, but now I remember the time we spent together and the things she taught me. I’m still sad that I don’t have her, but missing her doesn’t hurt like it used to. It’s okay to be sad,” she assured the child. “We miss the people we love when they’re gone.”

Anna nodded solemnly.

Josie had the urge to lean down and hug the child, but Anna barely knew her, and Josie didn’t want to overstep. “Now let’s find a recipe that sounds like your mama’s lemon sauce.”

Anna smiled, revealing four new front teeth and a side one missing. She was naively honest, charmingly inquisitive and altogether adorable.

After searching and finding what they wanted, they returned to the reverend’s with the cookbook. Elisabeth immediately took Anna aside and spoke to her in soft tones Josie couldn’t hear.

Elisabeth hadn’t warmed to Josie, and it seemed she wasn’t comfortable with the fact that Anna had taken to her. Elisabeth got out a slate and chalk and helped Anna with numbers.

Some time later, Josie and Abigail were planning the evening meal when Samuel rode past the house on horseback. He had obviously bathed and shaved, and his neatly trimmed chestnut hair shone in the sunlight. He wore a new pair of denim trousers, a pale blue shirt and a string tie.