you when he does,” she improvised. Surely that was the case. “You’re way more fun than work.”
Poppy screwed her face into a puzzled frown. “You sure?”
“Very.” Tessa led her small charge into the Sunday school building.
Rosewood Community Church had been constructed in the late 1800s. Weathering storms and even a fire, the faithful congregation kept the building well maintained. True to the Victorian age in which it was built, the lines of the church were classic. And, in Tessa’s opinion, classy. She loved that the floors were constructed of local wood, original to the building. Designated on the historical register, the church conveyed its beautiful spirit visually, as well.
The fire that had erupted several years earlier hadn’t stopped worship. Instead, they pulled together to rebuild. Members of other churches volunteered as well, offering materials, labor and donations. It was a church of the community and it had taken the whole community to repair the damage. But now the scars were scarce. Cindy told her they left one charred piece of timber, now enclosed in a case, to remind them of how fortunate they’d been not to lose the entire structure.
Once at her class, it didn’t take long for Poppy to meet her Sunday school teacher, then greet the other children.
Tessa unobtrusively lingered in the hallway to make certain Poppy would be okay. But the child was all smiles, so Tessa finally made her way to her own class.
Her thoughts remained with Poppy. After Sunday school ended, she darted over to check on junior church, but again, Poppy was fine. Still, Tessa fidgeted during the church service. Usually she appreciated the beauty of the stained-glass windows, the aged wood, the flowers that adorned the altar. It was a place for her thoughts to settle, for her mind to seek solace. But today she glanced at her watch more than her Bible. And the moment the congregation dispersed, she practically ran to the chapel to collect Poppy.
Relieved to see that she was still looking happy, Tessa released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “So, you had a good time?”
“Uh-huh.” Poppy waved a booklet. “And I have stories.”
“That’s great. If it’s okay with your father, we can read them later.”
“Can we come back again?”
“If your father agrees.” All Tessa had previously gleaned was that Morgan wasn’t a churchgoer. After last evening’s conversation, it was evident why. She’d known others who had gone through crises of faith because of a loss. She considered herself fortunate to have held on tightly to her own despite Karl, despite the disappointment of knowing she would never bear children.
“Tomorrow?”
Tessa smiled. “Well, not tomorrow. It’s called Sunday school because it meets on Sunday.”
“But the party’s on Saturday!” Poppy wailed.
Tessa noticed a sheet of bright orange paper stapled to the booklet. “Let’s check out what your teacher sent.”
Poppy was right. They were having a class skating party. She drew her eyebrows together. What would Morgan think of this? She had no idea. Which meant her best option was to distract Poppy so that she wouldn’t worry over it right now. “I bet Dorothy will have lunch ready when we get home.”
Shaking her head, Poppy lifted her gaze. “Sunday lunch is sandwiches. Daddy says Dorothy should have a day off.”
Tessa had scrupulously kept to her own cottage on the weekends except when they were working on Saturdays, having asked Morgan to phone her if she was needed. But he hadn’t called, so she didn’t know how the house worked on Sundays. “That’s nice. I love sandwiches. What about you?”
The small head lifted up, then down. “Uh-huh. Dorothy makes dessert on Saturday so we have good dessert for Sunday, too.”
“Do you help?”
“Uh-huh,” Poppy repeated.
Driving back to Morgan’s house, Tessa wondered when he would return. She would have to speak with him about Saturday’s party. Tessa might have successfully distracted the little girl for the time being, but it wasn’t likely that Poppy would forget about the party entirely.
Sure enough, as soon as Poppy spotted Dorothy, she rushed to show her the papers she’d brought home. Dorothy met Tessa’s gaze. She could see her own question in the other woman’s eyes.
“Can I have chips?” Poppy was asking Dorothy.
“Yes. But before lunch, let’s change out of your good dress.”
Poppy swirled, the full skirt responding to the pirouette, swishing prettily. “Okay. Can I wear my purple shirt?”
Dorothy concurred as they headed up the back stairs.
Tessa released her breath. She knew she was overly invested in the outcome of whether Poppy would be allowed to attend the party. She wondered how wise it had been to have pushed for Poppy to attend church.
Morgan was nowhere in sight. But she could imagine his expression when he learned about Saturday’s party. Last night he’d been downright grim at the prospect of Poppy attending church. She hated to imagine his reaction when he heard about a second outing.
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