Just Above a Whisper (3 page)

Mr. Zantow worked with wood. He could turn his hand to any task that dealt with wood and end up with perfection. Right now he was repairing a porch for Mrs. Greenlowe. Reese knew it would last for at least 50 years when he was done. He never went to a job intoxicated, and his work was known around town as the best. He didn’t work steadily in the winter, but come spring and summer, he was never without a task. He had a small workshop at the back of his property where he made furniture, but that work was sporadic, and he usually only turned out a few pieces each winter.

This past winter had been the exception. He’d had steady work making pews for the new meetinghouse in town. They weren’t quite finished, but it wouldn’t take long if he could keep his head. He also had a recent request for a cradle, all of which pleased Reese. She found that when Mr. Zantow was busy, he did less drinking. In fact, he was an easy man to work for until he got a little too deep into his cups. Unfortunately that happened every weekend and now some weeknights.

“Hello, Reese,” Alison Muldoon called as Reese passed her house.

“Hello, Alison,” she called in return, heading that way.

“Are you shopping this morning?” Alison asked. She was married to Reese’s pastor, Douglas Muldoon.

“No, just running an errand and taking my time about it.”

“How is Mr. Zantow this morning?”

“Not at his best.” Reese’s expression, which was almost comical, said more than her words. “He sent me to tell Mrs. Greenlowe that he’ll be late, and he doesn’t want me to hurry back.”

Alison’s head tipped with interest. “How will you know when to return?”

Reese smiled. “I’ll just force these long legs to walk slowly. If he’s still not feeling well when I return, I’ll find something quiet to do.”

Alison returned the smile and invited her to stop and talk if she found herself at loose ends. She watched Reese go on her way, utterly captivated with the tall redhead.

Reese had come to them only six months past, having had a close call with Mr. Zantow and wanting to speak about it. Douglas had talked to her for more than three hours. Alison had joined them as much as time allowed. After hearing all that Douglas had to say about Jesus Christ, Reese confessed Him as her Savior. The months that followed had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that her heart had been real.

Reese Thackery was remarkably humble and thirsty for knowledge of the Scriptures. She came with questions every week, never arguing but listening to each answer with a keen intelligence. And she never seemed to run out of energy. Joining the Muldoons for Sunday dinner when she was able, she never tired of the discussions they had or the concepts Douglas introduced to her. Alison thought she was one of the best things to happen to their small church family in a long time.

And to their own family. Reese was always swift to lend a hand with a meal or cleanup, and the Muldoon children adored her. She was good with the baby too, and he was less than six months old.

Alison shook herself from these mental wanderings and went back indoors. Her husband and five children would be looking for breakfast.

“Mrs. Greenlowe,” Reese called out as she knocked, not sure if she would hear. “Mrs. Greenlowe, it’s Reese.”

The door took some time in opening.

“Come in, Reese,” Mrs. Greenlowe invited when she saw the younger woman’s face. “I want you to do something for me.”

Not surprised by this request, Reese entered. She had learned never to be surprised by Mrs. Greenlowe, who was always busy with a project of some type.

“Do you see that tin on the top shelf?” The woman had taken her to the kitchen and now pointed to a high shelf.

“Yes, do you want it?”

“Please.”

Without having to fully extend her arm, Reese retrieved the tin and handed it to Mrs. Greenlowe. As Reese stood there, the other woman opened the tin. Reese thought she was beyond surprise, but when the open tin revealed a pile of bank notes, her brows went up. Mrs. Greenlowe looked up and smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“You won’t tell anyone about my stash, will you, Reese?”

“No, ma’am.” Reese grinned in return.

“You’re a good girl, Reese.” Having stuffed two notes into the pocket of her apron, Mrs. Greenlowe handed the tin back so Reese could replace it. “I don’t trust banks, you know. Now, where’s Zantow this morning?”

“He sent me to tell you he’d be a bit late.”

“I don’t trust men either,” she proclaimed. “But Zantow does good work, and I’m willing to wait.” She began to turn away but whipped back around. “Don’t you tell him I said that!”

“I won’t,” Reese agreed, a small laugh escaping her.

“Come on,” she turned once again. “Have some breakfast with me.”

Reese fell to helping in the kitchen, laying the table, and putting the tea on. She did these things to the sound of Mrs. Greenlowe’s voice. That lady had opinions on many issues, and Reese quietly heard her out.

“Your father didn’t do right by you.” This was the issue on Mrs. Greenlowe’s mind as they finally sat at the table. “He had no business including you in the deal when he indentured himself.”

Reese silently agreed but knew there was no point in commenting.

“Would you like me to pray?” Reese spoke for the first time in several minutes.

“Go ahead, Reese,” Mrs. Greenlowe agreed quietly, respectfully bowing her head.

“Heavenly Father, I thank You for this food and for this day. Please bless Mrs. Greenlowe, and help Mr. Zantow to feel better. I pray in the name of Your Son. Amen.”

“You didn’t ask for a blessing on yourself,” Mrs. Greenlowe commented immediately.

“I did earlier today,” Reese replied cheerfully.

“You can’t do it more than once?”

“I can,” Reese clarified. “I just didn’t this time.”

“You’re a good girl, Reese,” her hostess commented again, bending over her plate to eat. Mrs. Greenlowe had always believed Reese to be a good girl for not rebelling against her circumstances. Reese didn’t agree with her but knew that an explanation right now would fall on deaf ears. Reese hadn’t rebelled, but neither did she think the label “good” fit her very well.

“What will keep you busy today?” Mrs. Greenlowe asked.

“I’ve got to get out into the garden. I’ll be picking and putting up all week.”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to linger, but tell Zantow I want him here.”

Reese was almost done, so there was no need to rush. She thanked Mrs. Greenlowe for breakfast and made her way back to the house. She knew a moment of relief to see that Mr. Zantow was just getting ready to head out.

He had no instructions for her, so Reese went about her business, more than happy to have the house and yard to herself. Without further delay, she put on an old apron and went to work.

About 24 hours later, Douglas Muldoon exited the new meetinghouse, his son Martin beside him, and shut the door in their wake. They were still short two pews, but that didn’t matter. They had met using chairs for a long time, and even though the room didn’t look done without that last row, the pews they had would hold them.

His 17-year-old daughter Hillary had volunteered to clean the new building, along with a few of the other young ladies from the church family, and all was looking to be in order for their first Sunday.

Douglas was pleased, but he knew he would also miss the meetings they had held at the house for so many years. It had been a good time of hospitality, with great growth and fellowship.

“You look sad,” Martin said.

“I’m not, Marty. I was just thinking about some things.”

“Was it what we had for dinner? ’Cause I didn’t like it either.”

Douglas wanted to scold him for not being thankful, but all he could do was laugh.

“What didn’t you like exactly?” he finally managed.

“Tomato pie. I thought it was going to be pumpkin or apple.”

“Pumpkins and apples are not in season right now,” Douglas said reasonably. “And you saw the cake your sister Hillary made. Did you really think your mother was going to serve a dessert in the middle of the meal?”

“Well, I hoped she would.”

Douglas laughed again. Martin was six and as honest as the day was long. At times he needed to be reminded to be thankful, but he was refreshingly forthcoming, and right now Douglas didn’t have the heart to get after him.

“Did you eat some of the tomato pie?”

“Yes, a small piece.”

“And once you realized it wasn’t dessert, did you enjoy it?”

The face he gave Douglas told he wanted to say yes but couldn’t manage.

Douglas fought the laughter this time, but he did smile. With a gentle hand to his son’s small shoulder, he simply steered him in the direction of home.

Jace had let a few days pass. In fact, it was already Saturday evening. His questions were almost constantly on his mind, but he didn’t allow his wife to know this. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable and cared for right now. That concerned him more than his questions for Douglas Muldoon, but if he wasn’t careful, Maddie would never believe that.

“How are you feeling?” Jace asked after evening tea, having noticed that Maddie had not been very hungry.

She frowned a little. “Why do you ask?”

“You just didn’t eat much. I hoped you weren’t feeling sick.”

Maddie hesitated. Jace watched her, wondering what he’d missed.

“I had a craving,” she quietly admitted.

Not knowing what to say, Jace didn’t comment.

“I was very hungry for pie.”

“Well, we had that pie you served after dinner. Did you have some of that?”

“I ate the rest of it,” she confessed. “Almost a whole pie. That’s why I didn’t want tea.”

Jace’s hand had come up to cover his upper lip, but that didn’t hide the laughter in his eyes. Maddie glanced his way, but she didn’t want to smile, so she looked swiftly away.

“You think I’m a pig, don’t you?”

“No, I’m just glad you’re not sick. I did wonder, however, why you didn’t offer me anything sweet with tea. You always do.”

“I have some cookies.”

“It’s all right. I’m fine.”

Maddie heard the amusement in his voice but still wouldn’t look at him. She knew that he watched her, but she couldn’t stand to return his gaze.