the one to spread the tales, and the unfortunate young woman’s reputation would have been in shambles.
“N-nothing happened,” Flora stammered. “He was just helping me. It was all proper.”
Rose gave her arm another squeeze. “Of course it was. But with all those closest to me happily married, nothing gets me more excited than a handsome young man in pursuit of one of my friends.”
Friends. As many times as Flora had thought of others as friends, this was the first she’d seen genuine interest and compassion in one. Rose’s comments weren’t about trying to get a juicy little tidbit to share with the others, but about...caring.
Then Rose smiled at her. “I think you have a suitor.”
Finally following Rose’s gaze, Flora noticed George waving at them. A young boy stood beside him. The nephew he’d mentioned?
“Come on!” Rose tugged at her arm. “I do wish to be introduced to this heroic man who came to your rescue.”
Flora hung back. “I don’t think...”
“He’s heroic and handsome. What do you have to lose?”
Flora let out a long sigh. “I’ve lost everything, I suppose. But that’s just the problem. I’m trying to gain back my old friends and their respect. I know I hurt them with my words, and I’ve apologized, but it hasn’t kept them from continuing to shun me. What will people say about me if I allow a miner to court me?”
Frowning, Rose looked at her. “I think you have it all wrong. It’s like I said earlier. Worrying about what everyone else thinks is only going to bring you more misery. You won’t be able to satisfy everyone, so live your life. Be the woman God made you to be, and let people say what they’re going to say. It’s the only way you’re going to find lasting contentment.”
George waved at them as they came closer, and though Flora kept her free hand firmly pinned to her side, she couldn’t help but smile. How long had it been since someone was so glad to see her?
Would it be so bad to pursue a friendship with him? Perhaps friendship was all George had to offer, as well.
* * *
George smiled at the ladies as they approached. Flora had changed, and there seemed to be a new lightness about her. “I see you found a new dress. Though the silk was lovely, I do like how the green in what you’re wearing brings out the color in your eyes.”
“Thank you.” Flora stepped forward, smiling. She did have a beautiful smile. He supposed it was wrong to flatter her in such a way, but he’d been telling the truth. And it seemed just as wrong to ignore what was staring him in the face.
Pastor Lassiter joined them from around the side of the cabin. “Ah, Flora and Rose. You’re back.”
“Rose was good enough to help me clean up at the river, and to lend me a more appropriate dress.” Flora smiled at the other woman, and George couldn’t help but notice how it lit up her eyes.
Pastor Lassiter smiled. “Yes, I heard about your unfortunate incident with the Willoughby baby. Good practice for when you have some of your own.”
“My own? They all do that?” The horror on her face made George want to chuckle. Only he didn’t think Flora was ready to laugh at the joke. Something in him wanted to protect her, even though she’d spent much of their childhood teasing him. He could sense that she’d changed since then.
Rose laughed. “And then some. But you’ll find it’s worth every mess. I’d forgotten you have no siblings or experience with babies. You can work with me, visiting the mothers and children. From what I’ve seen at the mission, you’re a fast learner, and by the time this month is over, you’ll be an expert at caring for children.”
“That’s actually why I’m here,” George said, indicating Pierre. “He doesn’t speak English, but I remembered—” He stopped himself. He couldn’t admit that he knew Flora spoke French. For his plan to succeed, he needed to pretend this was the first they’d met.
George took a deep breath. “I remembered that Flora was connected with the mission here, so I brought him to you in hopes that you might know someone who speaks French and can help him.”
Pastor Lassiter stepped in beside him and ruffled Pierre’s hair. “George told me about the situation with the boy, and I told him he’s come to the right place. However, I don’t speak French, so I’m at a loss as to how to help find this boy’s family.”
Though George had already promised himself he was going to keep his distance from Flora, he couldn’t help but notice the sympathy that lined her face.
“Oh, the poor dear,” Flora said, kneeling beside Pierre, then breaking into French as she spoke to him.
George looked over at Pastor Lassiter, who wore a broad smile.
“Did you know she spoke French?” George asked the older man.
“I thought I’d heard at one point that she did,” Pastor Lassiter admitted. “But I wasn’t certain if she knew enough to converse with the boy. I see that she can do so, very well indeed.”
Flora smiled at them as she stood, holding Pierre’s hand. “This is Pierre, as I’m sure you know. He is four years old. His father works in the mine, but he hasn’t come home for several days. Pierre went to look for his father, but he got lost. When George found him, he’d come to the creek for some water, but he got scared since it was moving so quickly. So it was a good thing George happened upon him when he did, because as I explained to Pierre, the creek is a very dangerous place for little boys.”
She pulled Pierre closer to her, genuine affection shining in her eyes. Flora had definitely changed from the bratty girl he’d known as a child. So much warmth radiated from her, it was hard to imagine that people didn’t like her.
“Pierre tells me that you gave him something to eat, so now all we need to do is find the poor boy’s father. I told Pierre that his father is probably just as worried about him as Pierre is about his father.”
Once again, George was struck by Flora’s gentility and warmth. Though she addressed George, Pastor Lassiter and Rose, she kept smiling down at Pierre and giving him reassuring touches.
“I can’t imagine we have too many Frenchmen here,” Flora said. “Could you ask around to see where his father might be?”
Pastor Lassiter nodded slowly. “Of course. I haven’t run into anyone from France up here, which is why I’m grateful we have Flora to translate.”
“Me, too,” George added. “I know you’re not comfortable around little ones, but I only know a few words, and they aren’t very helpful.”
Once again, the smile George had grown to love so much filled Flora’s face. “Oh, I like little ones. I had a brief opportunity to be a nanny to the most darling little girl.” Her face darkened briefly, and she looked at Rose, but Rose smiled at her, chasing whatever clouded Flora’s thoughts away, and happiness returned to her face. “I just don’t know anything about babies.”
Pierre tugged at Flora’s skirt and she bent down to him, once again speaking French. Her words were melodic, almost like poetry.
