them than host them,” Magnolia conceded.
“And are you so confident that Garrett will win the day?” Hypatia asked.
Magnolia chose not to answer that. “I’m confident that the hand of God is at work here.”
Hypatia arched an eyebrow, but Magnolia took her time settling onto the chaise longue of her choice. Spreading her dark plaid skirts around her, she lightly asked, “Do you know why Jessa Lynn Pagett wants to lease the Monroe place?”
“It’s a lovely house in which to raise a child, I imagine.”
“It’s also a great site for a florist shop,” Magnolia said. “Garrett told me last night that she’s a florist, and she herself said she was opening a shop there.”
Hypatia let that sink in. “A florist, is she? Well, well.”
“Exactly,” Magnolia said with a satisfied lift of her chin. “A florist and a gardener.”
Hypatia tapped the cleft in her chin with one gleaming fingertip. “It’s something to think about, I must say. We’ve seen matches made of less.”
Magnolia crossed her ankles and folded her hands. “Indeed. Just look at Ellie and Asher.”
“Or Chandler and Bethany.”
“Or Reeves and Anna! Not to mention…” They both laughed, eyes twinkling as they thought of Odelia and Kent coming together again after a half century apart. “So you agree with me that it’s a matter for prayer.”
“Definitely,” Hypatia said.
They smiled in perfect accord. Then Hypatia touched the pearls at her throat.
“About the meeting this afternoon,” she said. “I really can’t abide the idea of another buffet.” She was still miffed that Ellie and Asher had stood firm on a buffet for their wedding reception. Worse, Hilda agreed with them! Personally, it seemed the only sensible solution to Magnolia at this late juncture, but Hypatia would never be entirely happy about the matter. “Surely, we can hire a decent number of wait staff for the June wedding. Don’t you agree?”
Magnolia rolled her eyes. Suggest that to Odelia, and she’d be out scouring the DFW Metroplex for waiters of identical height, weight, complexion and hair color—and rainbow-hued tuxedoes to outfit them. Magnolia chuckled, wondering just how pleased Hypatia would be then.
“At least,” she said hopefully, “God has provided us with a genuine florist.”
“Ah, yes,” Hypatia agreed, nodding. “There is that.”
And, Magnolia hoped, much more.
“Very good,” Jessa praised, watching Hunter practice the last of his letters in his copybook.
“Done now, Mommy?” he asked hopefully.
They’d taken several breaks throughout the day. He’d watched his favorite program on TV and played with the tiny cars that were his personal delight. The remainder of his few toys were stuffed in a box stacked with several others in Abby’s tiny living room. Jessa wondered if she ought to move the boxes here. Chatam House certainly had more space for such things.
She shook her head. Chances were that she and Hunter would be out of here today or tomorrow. Where exactly they’d go, she didn’t know, but surely she could afford a cheap motel for a couple days until they could return to Abby’s. Then what? A knock at the sitting-room door derailed that unhappy speculation.
“Come in.”
A fortyish woman with long, lank, dark blond hair opened the door and peeked into the room. “I’m Carol, the housemaid.”
“Oh, yes. Your sister mentioned you earlier.”
Carol slipped fully into the room. Dressed in polyester pants and a cotton blouse, she did not quite meet Jessa’s image of a maid, but then the cook had worn a flowered muumuu under her apron that morning. “The misses would like you to come down to the library now, if it’s convenient. Miss Ellie and Mr. Asher have arrived.”
Jessa’s heart leapt into her throat. So the moment had come. It was sooner than she’d expected, not even 3:00 p.m. She patted Hunter’s hand comfortingly and rose from the floor in front of the coffee table where they had conducted their lessons. “We’ll be right down.”
“I’ll stay with the boy,” Carol volunteered, “if you like.”
Jessa glanced at Hunter, who gave his head the tiniest of nods. “Thank you, Carol. I’ll try not to be long.”
“Oh, don’t rush on my account,” Carol said, moving across the room to seat herself on the couch. “I like kids. Would a snack be okay? Fruit and maybe a cookie or two? Nothing to ruin the young man’s dinner.” Hunter perked up noticeably.
“That would be fine,” Jessa said with a smile, moving toward the door.
Hunter’s eyes twinkled at Jessa as she backed from the room. She knew that in many ways her little boy was not as mature as others of his age, but he possessed a quiet sense of humor rivaling that of any adult.
Taking down her hair as she traversed the landing, Jessa combed through it with her fingers and twisted it up again, expertly fixing the clip in place. She hadn’t reached the curve in the broad staircase before silky strands drifted down to waft about her face. She blew one out of her eyes with a puff of air from between her lips and wondered if she should have changed her cheap canvas tennis shoes for dressier flats. Then again, if winning the day depended upon her attire, she’d be lost before she’d begun.
The door to which Magnolia had pointed earlier now stood open, and muted voices filtered through it, along with the soft rumble of laughter. Her heart pounding, Jessa paused on the stairs to gather her courage.
Now would be the time, Lord, she found herself praying. If ever You’re going to answer my prayers, now would be the time. For my son’s sake, and in the name of Your Son, please.
Inhaling deeply, she moved on down to the foyer and crossed over to the library door. She’d seen public libraries with less to offer. Bookshelves lined every wall, and a long, interesting table, surrounded by chairs, occupied the center of the densely carpeted floor, with a number of people standing and sitting around it. Hilda dropped into a chair, obviously having just placed an ornate silver tea service on the table. Heads turned in Jessa’s direction, but before she could speak, she felt a presence at her back.
“Hello, everyone,” Garrett called out cheerfully.
A light touch near her waist literally propelled her into the room. Kent Monroe came to his feet, Odelia clinging to his hand. For a moment, Jessa couldn’t tear her eyes from the woman, who wore an aqua turban, chandelier earrings hung with multicolored stones, and a shocking pink caftan trimmed with rainbow fringe.
“We’re meeting early today,” Garrett said to no one in particular.
A slender man in an expensive suit turned from a private conversation with Ellie Monroe and smiled. A rosy gray painted the temples of his chestnut hair and called attention to his glittering amber eyes. If they were not enough to mark him as a Chatam,
