Kelly's Chance (9 page)

He smiled to himself. The day had started out even better than he’d expected.

***

Kelly opened her eyes and looked around. About two dozen people were seated on the ground. Some were singing, some lifted their hands in praise, and others quietly listened. She couldn’t believe she’d let Mike talk her into staying around for this outdoor church service. It was a beautiful spring day, and she wanted to be away from the crowd, where she could listen to the sounds of nature and draw to her heart’s content. When she’d agreed to accompany Mike on a picnic, the plan hadn’t included church.

Kelly knew her attitude was wrong. She’d asked Jesus to forgive her sins several years ago. She should take pleasure in worshipping God. Besides, out here among the other boatmen and their families, Kelly didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Nobody but the preacher and his daughter were dressed in fine clothes, so Kelly blended right in with her unfashionable long cotton skirt and plain white blouse.

The singing was over, and the reverend had begun to preach. Kelly’s gaze wandered until she noticed a young boy who sat several feet away. He had bright red hair, and his face and arms were covered with freckles. The child’s looks weren’t what captured Kelly’s attention, though. It was the small green toad he was holding in his grubby hands. He stroked the critter’s head as though it were a pet.

He’s probably poor and doesn’t own many toys. If his papa’s a boatman, they travel up and down the canal most of the year, so the little guy can’t have any real pets.

Kelly knew that wasn’t entirely true. Many canalers owned dogs that either walked along the towpath or rode in the boat. She figured the little red-haired boy’s dad was probably too cranky or too stingy to let his son own a dog or a cat.
Kind of
like my dad. He’d never allow me to have a pet.

Kelly’s thoughts were halted as Preacher Nelson shouted, “God wants you to turn from your sins and repent!”

She sat up a little straighter and tried to look attentive when she noticed Mike look over at her. Had he caught her daydreaming? Did he think she was a sinner who needed to repent?

After the pastor’s final prayer, he announced, “My daughter, Betsy, will now close our service with a solo.”

Betsy stood up and began to strum her zither as she belted out the first verse of “Sweet By and By.” As the young woman came to the last note, her voice cracked, and her faced turned redder than a radish.

Kelly stifled a chuckle behind her hand.
Serves the snooty woman right for thinkin’ she’s better’n me.

“He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”
Kelly gulped as she remembered that verse of scripture from the book of John. Mama had quoted it many times over the years.

The preacher’s daughter might be uppity and kind of pushy at times, but Kelly knew she was no better in God’s eyes. Fact of the matter, Kelly felt that she was probably worse, for she often harbored resentment in her heart toward Papa. She resolved to try to do better.

When the service was over, Mike stood and grabbed their picnic basket. Kelly gathered up her quilt and tucked it under one arm. She’d thought they would head right off for their picnic, but Mike moved toward Preacher Nelson. Not knowing what else to do, Kelly followed.

“That was a fine sermon you preached,” Mike said, shaking Reverend Nelson’s hand.

The older man beamed. “Thank you, Mike. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Betsy, who stood next to her father, smiled at Mike and fluttered her eyelashes. “How about the singing? Did you enjoy that, too?”

Mike nodded. It was downright sickening the way Betsy kept eyeing him, as though she wanted to kiss the man, of all things.

Kelly nudged Mike in the ribs with her elbow. “Are we goin’ on that picnic or not?”

“Yes ... yes, of course,” he stammered.

Why was Mike acting so nervous all of a sudden? Did being around Betsy Nelson do this to him? Kelly opened her mouth to say something, but Betsy cut her right off.

“You’re going on a picnic, Mike?” Her eyelids fluttered again. “It’s such a beautiful day, and I haven’t been on a picnic since early last fall. Would you mind if I tag along?”

“Well, uh...” Mike turned to Kelly, as though he expected her to say something.

When she made no response, Betsy said, “You wouldn’t mind if I joined you and Mike, would you, Kelly?”

Kelly’s irritation flared up like fireflies buzzing on a muggy summer day. She didn’t want to make an issue, so she merely shrugged her shoulders and made circles in the dirt with the toe of her boot.

“Great! It’s all settled then.” Betsy grinned like an eager child. “Have you got enough food for three, Mike?”

“Sure, I made plenty of fried chicken and biscuits.”

Betsy turned to her father then. “I won’t be gone long, Papa.”

He smiled. “You go on with the young people and have yourself a good time. I want to visit with several folks, and if I’m fortunate enough to be invited to join one of the families for a meal, I probably won’t be home until evening.”

“Everything is perfect then. I’ll see you at home later on.” Betsy handed her father the zither and slipped her hand through the crook of Mike’s arm. “So, where should we have this picnic?”

“Guess we’ll look for a nice spot up the canal a bit.” When Mike looked at Kelly, she noticed his face was a deep shade of red. Was he wondering why he’d invited her on a picnic? Did he wish he could spend time alone with Betsy Nelson? Should Kelly make up some excuse as to why she couldn’t go? Maybe it would be best if she went off by herself for the day.

Mike pulled away from Betsy and grabbed hold of Kelly’s hand. “Let’s be off,” he announced. “I’m hungry as a bear!”

***

Kelly, Mike, and Betsy sat in silence on the quilt. The picnic basket was empty, and everyone admitted to being full. There had been plenty of food to go around.

Kelly leaned back on her elbows, soaking up the sun’s warming rays and listening to the canal waters lapping against the bank. She felt relaxed and content and had almost forgotten her irritation over the preacher’s daughter joining their picnic.

Seeing a couple of ducks on the water reminded Kelly that she’d brought along her drawing tablet and a piece of charcoal. She sat up and withdrew both from her skirt pocket, then quickly began to sketch. A flash of green on the mallard’s head made her once again wish she could work with colored paints. Folks might be apt to buy a picture with color, as it looked more like the real thing.

“In another month or so the canal will be filled with swimmers,” Betsy said, her high-pitched voice cutting into the serenely quiet moment.

“You’re right about that,” Mike agreed. “It scares me the way some youngsters swim so close to the canal boats. It’s a wonder one of them doesn’t get killed.”

“I hear there’s plenty of accidents on the canal,” Betsy put in.

“Kelly could probably tell us a lot of stories in that regard,” Mike said.

Kelly’s mind took her back to a couple years ago, when she’d witnessed one of the lock tender’s children fall between a boat and the lock. The little boy had been killed instantly—crushed to death. It was a pitiful sight to see the child’s mother weeping and wailing.

Kelly had seen a few small children fall overboard and drown. Most folks who had little ones kept them tied to a rope so that wouldn’t happen, but some who’d been careless paid the price with the loss of a child.

“Yep,” Kelly murmured, “there’s been quite a few deaths on the Lehigh Navigation System.”

Mike groaned. “I was afraid of the water when I was a boy, so I never learned to swim as well as I probably should have. So I don’t often go in the canal except to wade or do a couple of dives off the locks now and then.”

“If you can’t swim too good, aren’t you afraid to dive?” Kelly asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I can manage to kick my way to the surface of the water, then paddle like a dog back to the lock.”

“Hmm ... I see.”

“What about you?” Betsy asked, looking directly at Kelly. “As dirty as you get trudging up and down the dusty towpath, I imagine you must jump into the canal quite frequently in order to get cleaned off.”

Kelly sniffed deeply, feeling a sudden need to defend herself. “I learned to swim when I was a little girl, so I have no fear of drowning.”
Just scared to death of water snakes,
her inner voice reminded. She saw no need to reveal her reservations about swimming in the canal. No use giving the preacher’s daughter one more thing to look down her nose about.

Mike shifted on the quilt and leaned closer to Kelly. She could feel his warm breath against her neck and found it to be a distraction.

“That’s a nice picture you’re making,” Mike whispered. “Is the charcoal I gave you working out okay?”

“It’s fine,” she answered as she kept on drawing.

“Maybe you can get a few pictures done today so I can take them back to the store and try to sell them.”

She nodded. “Maybe so.”

“How about you and me going for a walk, Mike?” Betsy asked, cutting into their conversation.

Mike moved away from Kelly, and she felt a keen sense of disappointment, which made no sense, since she wasn’t the least bit interested in the storekeeper. She’d already decided Betsy Nelson would make a better match for Mike than someone like herself.

“Kelly, would you like to walk with me and Betsy?” Mike asked.

She shook her head. “I’d rather stay here with my tablet and charcoal. You two go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

Betsy stood up and held her hand out to Mike. “I’m ready if you are.”

He made a grunting sound as he clambered to his feet. “We’ll be back soon, Kelly.”

Keeping her focus on the ducks swimming directly in front of her, Kelly mumbled, “Sure, okay.”

***

Mike wasn’t the least bit happy about leaving Kelly alone while he and Betsy went for a walk. This was supposed to be his and Kelly’s picnic—a chance for them to get better acquainted. It should have been Kelly he was walking with, not the preacher’s daughter.

Betsy clung to his arm like they were a courting couple, and she chattered a mile a minute. If only he could figure out some way to discourage her without being rude. Mike didn’t want to hurt Betsy’s feelings, but he didn’t want to lead her on, either.

“Maybe we should head back,” he said, when Betsy stopped talking long enough for him to get in a word.

She squeezed his arm a little tighter and kept on walking. “Why would you want to head back? It’s a beautiful day, and the fresh air and exercise will do us both some good.”

Mike opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him right off.

“I missed seeing you in church this morning.”

He cleared his throat a few times, feeling like a little boy who was about to be reprimanded for being naughty. “Well, I—”

“Papa says we need young men like yourself as active members in the church,” Betsy said, chopping him off again.

Mike shrugged as a feeling of guilt slid over him. He knew what the Bible said about men being the spiritual leaders. He also was aware that he needed to take a more active part in evangelizing the world. Maybe he would speak to Reverend Nelson about holding regular church services along the canal. Mike could donate some of his Bibles for people who didn’t have one of their own. As far as attending the Nelsons’ church, Mike wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. It would mean spending more time with Betsy. It wasn’t that he disliked the woman, but her chattering and pushiness got on his nerves.

“Mike, are you listening to me?”

He pushed his thoughts aside and focused on the woman who was tugging on his shirtsleeve. “What were you saying?”

“I was talking about mission work,” Betsy replied in an exasperated tone. “I said we have a mission opportunity right here along the canal.”

He nodded. “I agree. I was just thinking that if your father wanted to hold regular Sunday services out in front of my store, I’d be happy to furnish folks with Bibles.”

Betsy’s thin lips curled into a smile. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll speak to Papa about it this evening.”

Mike was amazed at Betsy’s exuberance. She either shared his desire to tell others about Jesus or was merely looking forward to spending more time with him.

He grimaced.
I shouldn’t be thinking the worst.
Mike knew he was going to have to work on his attitude, especially where the preacher’s daughter was concerned. She did have some good points, but she wasn’t the kind of woman Mike was looking for.

A vision of Kelly flashed into his mind. Dark eyes that bore right through him; long dark hair cascading down her back; a smile that could light up any room. But it was more than Kelly’s good looks and winning smile that had captured Mike’s attention. There was a tenderness and vulnerability about Kelly McGregor that drew Mike to her like a thirsty horse heads for water. Sometimes, she seemed like an innocent child needing to be rescued from something that was causing her pain. The next minute, Kelly appeared confident and self-assured. She was like a jigsaw puzzle, and he wanted to put all the complicated pieces of her together.

“Mike, you’re not listening to me again.”

He turned his head in Betsy’s direction. “What were you saying?”

“I was wondering if you would like to come over for supper one night next week.”

He groped for words that wouldn’t be a lie. “I ... uh ... am expecting a shipment of goods soon, and I need to clean off some shelves and get the place organized before the load arrives.”

Betsy’s lower lip jutted out. “Surely you won’t be working every evening.”

Mike nodded. “I could be.”

Her eyebrows drew together, nearly meeting at the middle. “I was hoping to tempt you with my chicken and dumplings. Papa says they’re the best he’s ever tasted.”

“I’m sure they are.” Mike gave Betsy’s arm a gentle pat. “Maybe some other time.”

“I hope so,” she replied.

Should I be frank and tell her I’m not interested in pursuing a personal relationship?
Mike stopped walking and swung around, taking Betsy with him, since she still held onto his arm. “We’d better head back now.”