I’ll put your mail in here. Save you having to rent a box.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hubble. That will be fine.”
The postmaster nodded, then fixed a stern gaze on him. “I can’t do that for others with you who will be getting mail, mind you. Your missus or such will need their own box.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Matthew turned and almost collided with a small group of people standing behind him. The short, thin man closest to him held out his hand.
“I’m Allan Cargrave. I own this establishment, along with my brother Henry. You met him this morning. I’ve been looking forward to your coming, Pastor Calvert. We all have.”
Matthew took his hand in a firm clasp. “Then our goal has been the same, Mr. Cargrave. I’m pleased to meet you.” He smiled and turned to the others.
* * *
Willa glanced at her lunch basket, now half-full of hickory nuts, going out the door in Trudy Hoffman’s hand and smiled. The impromptu contest had proved successful in a way she had not expected. Trudy and Sally Calvert had both suggested Puffy as a name for the cat in the story and friendship had budded between the girls when the name was chosen as the favorite by the class. The friendship was firmed when Sally told Trudy she could have the basket as they shared the prize.
Her smile faded. She was quite certain there was something more than shyness bothering Sally. She’d seen tears glistening in the little girl’s eyes that afternoon. She walked to the door to watch Joshua and Sally cross the town park to the parsonage. Another smile formed. If the squirrels didn’t get them, the park would soon be boasting a trail of hickory nut trees started by Sally’s half of the prize falling from Joshua’s pockets.
She pulled the door closed and watched the children. Why weren’t they running and laughing on their way home? She studied their slow steps, the slump of their small shoulders. Something was amiss. They looked…sad. Perhaps they missed their friends in Albany. It was hard for children to leave a familiar home and move to a strange town where they knew no one. She would make certain the village children included Joshua and Sally in their games at the welcome dinner Sunday. And she would speak with Mrs. Calvert about the children. Perhaps there was something more she could do to help them adjust to their new life in Pinewood. Meanwhile, she had a new lunch basket to buy. She hurried down the stairs and headed for the mercantile.
* * *
Matthew blotted his notes, closed his Bible and pushed back from his desk. Moonlight drew a lacy shadow of the denuded branches of the maple in the side yard on the ground, silvered the fallen leaves beneath it. An owl hooted. His lips slanted into a grin. Miss Wright was correct. Pinewood was very different from Albany.
His pulse sped at the memory of her walking toward them, neat and trim in her dark red gown with a soft smile warming her lovely face. She had, again, stolen his breath when their gazes met. And the way she had solved Sally’s rebellion against going to school today…
A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. She had made up that business about a cat with no name and the contest with a prize right there on the spot.
It was obvious Miss Wright loved children. How did she feel about God?
He clenched his hands and set his jaw, shaken by a sudden awareness of the expectation in his heart of seeing her sitting in the congregation Sunday morning.
Chapter Three
“How could you be so wrong about those children? They are his wards.”
Willa placed her platter of meat tarts on the plank table and looked up at Ellen. “Pastor Calvert brought them to school, they look like him and their last name is the same. I assumed he was their father, not their uncle. It was an understandable mistake.” Tears stung her eyes. Those poor children. To lose both their mother and father at such a young age. No wonder they looked sad.
“Perhaps, but— Oh, look at this old gown.” Ellen batted at the ruffles on her bodice. “If I had known Pastor Calvert was a bachelor I would have had Mother hem my new gown. She says the color makes my eyes look larger and bluer.”
Willa squared her shoulders and gave Ellen a look permitted by their years of friendship. Her friend hadn’t given a thought to the children—other than to be thankful the pastor was not their father. “You look beautiful in that gown, and you know it, Ellen. Now stop pouting. It’s wasted on me. I’ve watched you looking in the mirror to practice protruding your lower lip, remember?”
The offending lip was pulled back into its normal position. “Very well. I suppose I understand your error. And I forgive you. But all the same, I am distressed. Had I known the truth of Matthew Calvert’s marital state, I could have thought of a plan to catch his attention. Look!”
The hissed words tickled her ear. She glanced in the direction Ellen indicated. Matthew Calvert was coming across the church grounds toward the tables, his progress hindered by every young, unmarried lady in his congregation and their mothers. “So that’s where all the women are. I wondered. Usually they are hovering over the food to— Billy Karcher, you put down those cookies! They’re for after the meal.”
The eight-year-old looked up from beneath the dark locks dangling on his forehead and gave her a gap-tooth grin. “I’m only makin’ thure I get thome.”
Willa fought back a smile at his lost-tooth lisp and gave him her teacher look. “Those cookies are to share. You put that handful back and I promise to save two of them for you.”
The boy heaved a sigh, dropped the cookies back onto the plate and ran off to join the children playing tag in the park. She searched the group. Where were Joshua and Sally?
“Selfish little beast.”
Willa jerked her gaze back to Ellen. “Billy is a child, not a beast.”
“They seem one and the same to me.” Ellen glanced toward the church and sucked in a breath. “Pastor Calvert is coming this way. And he seems quite purposeful in his destination. I guess I caught his attention when Father introduced us after all.” A smug smile curved Ellen’s lovely, rosy lips. She turned her back, raised her hands and pinched her cheeks. “Are my curls in place, Willa?”
She looked at the cluster of blond curls peeking from beneath the back of Ellen’s flower-bedecked hat and fought down a sudden, strong urge to yank one of them. “They’re fine.” She turned away from her friend’s smug smile. Ellen’s conceit had alienated most of their old friends, and it was putting a strain on their friendship. She sighed and moved the cookie plate to the back side of the table out of the reach of small, grasping hands. Ellen had been different before Callie Conner’s family had moved away. Their raven-haired friend’s astonishing beauty had kept Ellen’s vanity subdued. And Callie’s sweet nature—
“May I interrupt your work a moment, ladies?”
Matthew Calvert’s deep voice, as warm and smooth as the maple syrup the villagers made every spring, caused a shiver to run up her spine. She frowned, snatched the stem of a bright red leaf that had fallen on a bowl of boiled potatoes and tossed it to the ground. With a voice like that, it was no wonder the man was a preacher of some renown.
Good manners dictated that she turn and smile—indignation rooted her in place. Joshua and Sally were nowhere in sight, yet Matthew Calvert had come seeking out Ellen to satisfy
