JAMES Read online

  “I had no idea.” She reached for a plate and took the ham from the skillet. Covering it, she set it on the warming plate and cracked four eggs into the sizzling juices.

  “I would’ve been surprised if you had. I think they’d enjoy that roast beef Elda insisted we take yesterday.”

  “I’ll make a nice gravy to go with it.”

  “After breakfast, I’ll hire a horse and buggy from Hank and drive you out to their farm.”

  Pouring her a cup of coffee and refilling his, he carried both to the table. As she put two full plates at each place, he set down the cups and pulled out a chair to seat her. Once she was settled, he settled into the other chair and reached for her hand for prayer. When she didn’t take his hand, he looked up and found her staring at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t remember the last time a man seated me. Claude wasn’t big on manners.”

  “Then I owe you an apology. I’ve been at your table for nearly three weeks. I should have shown you that courtesy before now.”

  Robbie chose that moment to fuss about being left alone. “I didn’t mention it to criticize,” she assured him. “It’s just… Such a small thing suddenly seemed so important. I don’t know why.”

  James brought Robbie to the table and sat back down. The change of view was enough to settle him. James took a bite of his food then tickled Robbie under the chin. “It’s better to see Mama, isn’t it?” He glanced at Esther and spotted tears. “Esther?” He thought back and wanted to curse. He’d called her mama. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Instead of answering, she poured James more coffee then reached for the baby. “Let me take him so you can enjoy your breakfast.”

  “I am enjoying it. Sit back down, please, Esther. I like sharing a meal with you, not just Robbie.”

  She lowered back into her seat. “At least let me hold him. I’m finished eating.”

  He relinquished the baby and picked up his fork. “Everything is delicious, as always.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  They passed the rest of the meal with small talk and by focusing on Robbie. Once the table was cleared, she insisted she would handle cleaning up, so James grabbed a shovel and headed to the cemetery to check on the graves.

  Puttering around just to spend time in the sunshine, he added more dirt to each grave and straightened the simple cross markers. Tobias Abel had promised to send a proper stone marker before the first snow, but the wooden cross was all Mr. Washington would likely have.

  When they’d established the cemetery, the graves had been dug, filled in and left. No one gave a thought to who was buried where. Family remembered, sometimes, but they weren’t very accurate. James had created a plan, a kind of grid system, so the deceased’s graves could be found again. He still needed to add Mr. Abel and Mr. Washington to the record.

  As the sun moved overhead, he returned to the cabin for the meal, then cleaned up and walked to the livery. He returned in an hour, driving a small buggy pulled by a rather cantankerous old mare named Rosebud. Stopping in front of the cabin, he looped the reins around a porch post, scratching the horse under the harness leather. “Stay here, old girl. I’ll be right back.”

  James nearly stumbled when he spotted the large basket sitting on the porch, covered in cloth. It was so much like the one Robbie was left in that it took a moment for him to realize it must be the food Esther had prepared. Putting it on the buggy floor between where their feet would rest, he placed a pot wrapped in a blanket next to it. “Esther?”

  “We’re coming.” She came out carrying Robbie, who was dressed in a new shirt and soaker. She wore her black dress and a bonnet that hid her hair and face. Taking Robbie, James handed her into the buggy then helped settle Robbie in her lap and covered him with the light blanket she brought.

  “Is this everything?” He indicated the basket and pot.

  “I didn’t want to take too much, since I don’t know what the children will eat. There’s beef, bread and apple pie.”

  “If they’re anything like Jeremiah, you know they’ll like the pie.”

  They shared a smile at the memory as James unwrapped the reins and climbed aboard. Turning south through town, he slapped the reins gently on the horse’s haunches. Because Rosebud refused to go faster than a walk, the trip out to the Davis farm took nearly an hour. “It’s only three miles. We could have walked faster,” James groused.

  Jeremiah came out of the house as they pulled into the yard. “Dad’s out back, in the garden with the children. Ma’s inside. She said for you to come on in.”

  James helped Esther down, gave her Robbie, and retrieved the basket and pot. Jeremiah moved horse and buggy into the shade, then brought a bucket of water for Rosebud. Releasing the check rein so she could graze a little, he hobbled her so she couldn’t wander.

  James led Esther inside and introduced her to Ruth Davis. Though he’d known the Davis family for five years, he was struck again by how fragile Ruth seemed. A tiny, soft-spoken woman, it hardly seemed possible she’d borne four children and lost several more along the way.

  “We’ll be fine, Reverend. You go on out and enjoy this fine day.”

  Recognizing that he’d been dismissed, James followed the sounds of conversation and laughter to the garden. Though garden seemed too humble a word for the rows and rows of vegetables that were thriving behind the house. Corn stalks taller than him lined one side, and pumpkins dotted two rows of green on the one opposite.

  “Good afternoon, Reverend Hathaway. Mazel tov.” James shook hands with Ira Davis. He was the complete opposite of his wife. Tall, broad and jovial, he kept his children in line through an engaging combination of work, education and fun.

  “I was told you were in the garden, but this.” James swept an arm out to encompass the expanse. “I think Adam and Eve would have been comfortable here.”

  “When Ruth and I started our first kitchen garden, it wasn’t much more than beans and tomatoes. We branched out with a few potatoes. We’ve added to it with each child.” He removed his hat and scratched at the top of his head. “Now that I look, we may have gone overboard.”

  “But Papa, you promised I could plant more carrots next spring.” A seven-year-old, dark-haired sprite looked up at James with a gap-toothed grin. “I love carrots.”

  “Then get back to weeding the ones we have, child,” Ira scolded with a laugh. “And remember to keep the greens together.” He led James between the long rows of beans. “Ruth uses most everything that comes out of the soil, either for tonics or food for us or the goats.”

  They chatted about whatever came to mind for an hour or so. “We should be going.”

  “I’m glad you came to visit.” Ira shook his hand. “And for bringing Mrs. Travers. Ruth needed a woman’s company.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “We’ll be fine. We buried our Benjamin up there yesterday, near his favorite tree.” Ira pointed toward a shady spot partway up a hillside overlooking the house. “Ruth can be with him when she needs to and keep an eye on him when she can’t go.”

  The women were waiting by the wagon when James reached it. One glance told him they’d both been crying. And the basket between their feet didn’t look to be empty as he’d expected.

  “Thank you for coming, both of you. And you let me know how you like those pickled carrots. We have so many coming out of the garden I had to try something new with them.”

  James chuckled. “If Sarah has her way, you’ll have even more next year.”

  “Oi, Ira spoils those children.”

  “They’re good children,” James assured her.

  Ruth took Robbie to allow James to help Esther into the buggy. “You come back soon and bring this little one. I enjoyed having a baby in the house again.”

  “I will.” Esther took Robbie. “And once I get settled, you’ll come and visit me, won’t you?”

  “Of course. Shalom aleichem.”
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  James climbed into the buggy and lifted the reins. “Aleichem shalom, Ruth.”

  As they turned onto the main road back to King’s Ford, Esther glanced over. “What did that mean? Shalom aleichem?”

  “It’s a Hebrew goodbye. It means peace be upon you.”

  “And you reversed it?”

  “Kind of. The response translates upon you be peace.”

  “You speak Hebrew?”

  “A little. I’ve always been interested in where Jesus came from, what his upbringing was like. As a Jew in the promised land his life and traditions would have been very different from ours as Christians.”

  “Is that what kept you and Ira talking so long?”

  “Mostly we discussed the garden. And Benjamin.”

  “She misses him so much.” Esther hugged Robbie closer. “It’s awful for a mother to lose her child, but to lose your youngest baby…”

  “You know what that is like.” The shimmer of tears made him hurt deep inside. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

  “It’s all right. I want to talk about Emma, need to, even if it makes me sad.”

  They rode in silence for a while, enjoying the afternoon. “September is coming on fast. That’s a busy time around King’s Ford.”

  “That’s what Ruth said, but why? I haven’t seen large fields of cotton or corn.”

  “Harvest isn’t just crops around here, though we’ll help each farmer with haying. We rotate from field to field until everyone’s taken care of. But several ranchers will drive their cattle through here, heading east for the railroad. It’s not a large number of herds, but it requires extra help for the businesses and brings lots of strangers to town. Nearly everyone pitches in somewhere. The café turns out more meals in a few weeks than they do the rest of the summer.”

  “That’s what Ruth told me. I’m going to go talk with the owner.”

  “Mrs. Wilson. She’s a free black woman and a good cook. Why are you going to speak with her?”

  “Ruth said she always needs more help during the Harvest. I’m going ask her for a job.”

  James stared at her. “You have a job.”

  “As long as Robbie can come with me, I can do both. Or maybe Ina would keep him.” She shifted Robbie to her other arm. “James, we’ve discussed this. I will not continue to live under your roof while you have to sleep in the church. A little income will mean I can regain some independence. And you can…”

  “I can what?”

  “You can look for a wife.”

  “What?”

  “No woman will marry you as long as I’m a permanent fixture in the parsonage.”

  “Who told you I’m looking for a wife? Why can’t the people of this town let me live my life my way?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Esther grabbed for a handhold when Rosebud shied at his raised voice. James struggled to control the animal and, obviously, his temper. Esther was confused. “I thought that’s what you wanted? To have a wife and family of your own?”

  “In my own time. When I’m ready to choose a wife, I will.”

  “And you can’t do that if I’m in residence. Please, James. I don’t wish to fight with you, but I have to do this. I have to learn to take care of myself. I want to make choices for my life, just as you do. To do that, I must have some means, and that paltry bit of gold dust isn’t going to last long.”

  “I told you I would pay you to care for Robbie.”

  “But that won’t last long, either. Another year, two at the most, and he won’t need me.”

  Oh, how that hurt to say out loud. She’d come to think of Robbie as her son. Though she knew that her heart would break when the time came to give him up, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop herself from loving the boy. And if she didn’t get out soon, she’d find herself falling for his father, too.

  The tense silence between them remained as the first buildings of the town came into view. James drove straight to the parsonage, helped her down, and carried the basket inside.

  “I’ll return the buggy to the livery.”

  And he walked out. No hint of when he’d return. No idea when he wanted supper. No chance for her to mention her plans.

  “Fine.” She fed and changed Robbie, washed her face and brushed the dust from her dress. Satisfied she looked presentable, she settled the baby on her shoulder and headed for the café.

  The King’s Café was in the center of town, across from the Marshal’s office and between the mercantile and the boardinghouse. The view through the front windows was of a bright, clean establishment. A dozen tables were packed into the small space. A large woman she assumed was Aurelia Wilson stood with her back to the door, wiping down the tables. Coal black hair threaded with silver was wrapped in an intricate bun at the base of her head. Esther could just see the edges of a starched white apron tied around her ample waist.

  With a deep breath for courage, Esther put a smile on her face and reached for the pretty brass door handle and entered. She was immediately struck by how good the room smelled. She’d half expected scents of grease and leftover food. But cinnamon and apples greeted her just before Mrs. Wilson turned around.

  “I’m sorry, but the food’s gone. I’ve got pie left, though, and a cup or two of coffee.”

  “Mrs. Wilson? My name is Esther Travers.”

  “You’d have to be, since you’re the only stranger in town these days. It’s a pleasure to say welcome to King’s Ford to your face, though.” A smile as broad as the woman split her coffee-colored face. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for a job and Mrs. Davis said you might need help, at least through Harvest.”

  “She’s right, I do. I already know you can cook. Don’t look so surprised. Folks have been singing the praises of your apple crisp from here to sundown. Let’s sit down and you can tell me if my pie measures up.” With a high, giggling laugh, at odds with her rich voice, Aurelia dished up two slices of pie and coffee. She also brought an empty plate and put a dab of the thick, sweet juice onto it for Robbie. “He can’t chew the apples, but I’ll bet he can get some of that into him.” She brushed a hand over his reddish-blond hair. “Reminds me of one I took care of a long time ago. The war took him, same as it took my own boy.”

  Esther lowered into the chair Aurelia indicated. “I’m so sorry.”

  Aurelia settled across the table from her. “Nobody can understand the losing like another woman who has lost her own. My condolences, Mrs. Travers.”

  “And mine to you, Mrs. Wilson. And please call me Esther.”

  “Then I’m Aurelia from here on out. If I hire you, are you planning on bringing the baby along?”

  “I may have to. Reverend Hathaway can only do so much for him until he’s older. And he has his congregants to see to.”

  “I’m fine with him being here, but we’ll need to get a crib or something where he can be safe. Can you start in about a week?”

  “Of course.” Esther couldn’t stop the smile. “Whenever you want me here.”

  “Come on Monday next, unless the herds get here sooner. I’m open all but Sunday, breakfast and dinner. I don’t cook supper. Folks need to eat at home one meal a day. I start breakfast at five o’clock. We don’t have a big crowd, but enough folks are ready to get out of the house after Sunday family time to keep me in business.” Aurelia stood. “Pay is a dollar a week and all the food you can eat. Tell the Reverend that includes him.”

  “I’ll be here by five. I promise.” Esther shook hands with Aurelia, sealing their bargain.

  “Be sure to wear something comfortable. Those widow’s weeds are appropriate to honor the dead, but you’ll be way too hot in them before breakfast is over.”

  Esther nodded. “Would you know of a house or even a room I could rent?”

  Aurelia’s nose wrinkled up a little as she thought. “There’s the boardinghouse, of course.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Esther laughed. “I wonder how Mrs. Masters wo
uld feel about having Robbie there?”

  “She’d probably be fine with it. Oh, she’d complain, mind you, but just for appearances. Cordelia likes children. Never had none of her own, but she likes them well enough.”

  “But if she will complain—”

  “Cordelia complains about everything,” Aurelia interrupted. “Just don’t pay no attention to her.”

  When Robbie started to fuss, Aurelia lifted him into her lap and tickled him under the chin, turning his cries to coos. “Look at you, little man. You’ve got apple pie all over you.” She pulled a beautifully embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and wiped the baby’s face. “Sure looks like you enjoyed it.”

  “So did I,” Esther assured her.

  “Thank you. Next week you make it and we can compare notes.”

  Aurelia checked the pocket watch she pulled from her apron. “You’d best get on home. Reverend will be expecting his supper soon.”

  He can get his own supper popped into her mind, but she kept her frustration to herself. “I’ll see you a week from today.” Esther tied her bonnet on and rose. “Enjoy your evening.” Taking Robbie, she walked to the door, only to have it open for her.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Travers. Mrs. Wilson.”

  “Evenin’, Reverend. You here to walk Esther home?”

  “If she’ll let me.”

  James looked down at Esther and waited. A petty part of her wanted to tell him no, but the truth was she was glad to see him again. “That would be nice. Thank you. Goodbye, Aurelia. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  James ushered her out and waited for Aurelia to lock the door behind them. Then he lifted Robbie from her and offered her his free arm. “Sounds as if you have employment.”

  “Beginning a week from today. Aurelia needs help with the increased customers that come with Harvest.”

  “You’ll be a God-send for her. The other women cook, which takes some of the pressure off, but they all have their own families to feed. Any extra folks in town go to the café.”

  “At least I won’t have to cook at home as much. She said we’re to eat at the café. It’s part of my pay.”