Lanterns and Lace (5 page)

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Authors: DiAnn Mills

Tags: #Kahlerville, #Texas, #Jenny Martin, #Jessica Martin, #Aubrey Turner, #Dr. Grant Andrews, #best-selling author, #DiAnn Mills, #Texas Legacy series, #faith in God

BOOK: Lanterns and Lace
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Chapter 7

Jenny willed her nerves to settle. Apprehension. Dread. Why ever did she agree to attend church and spend Sunday afternoon with Grant’s family? She recalled the unpleasant times when an unhappy parent confronted her at school or when her parents displayed their annoyance over something she or Jessica had done, but not one unpleasant memory compared to the mounting anxiety of meeting Grant’s friends and family.

Consider one problem at a time. Conduct yourself properly in church, then leave it behind for dinner afterward.

Grant may have changed his mind and told his family why she came to Kahlerville. How horrible—a whole family of Andrews ready to pounce on her! Not that Jenny could blame his family, for she still planned to take Rebecca home to Cleveland. Yesterday she’d been touched by a morsel of sentiment, but not today. Could her noble design be wrong? How could it be? The more time she spent with the child, the more she wanted her. At the cemetery, Jenny realized how desperately she desired to keep a reminder of Jessica alive. Rebecca could provide exactly that, but this time things would be different—and better. The little girl needed her real family.

Mother and Father will adore her. Rebecca will certainly bring laughter into their lives. And they will have me to thank.

Jenny struggled to keep her attention on the reverend. Normally, she paid the utmost attention to every word of a lecture, but today her mind kept slipping back to the incidents of the week. To make matters worse, Father had forbidden her from ever attending church. She glanced about as though Archibald Martin might be lurking in some corner. He contended that the weak and ignorant used God as a crutch. Odd, Grant didn’t appear lacking in intelligence or strength. Quite the contrary.

With an inward sigh, she decided to listen to the message if for no more reason than that this was a part of Rebecca’s life. Each time she found herself centering on an event or conversation with Grant, she’d quickly chide herself, for it solved nothing. The source of her distress sat beside her, his presence creating a sensation that she did not welcome. Distraction. That’s what Dr. Grant Andrews was, and she had better tasks to attend to. She wished Mimi were nearby, but the older woman occupied a pew with her own family.

Rebecca seized Jenny’s attention. The little girl nestled against Grant’s chest, and as if on cue, she lifted her head and planted a kiss on his chin. Oh, how Jenny longed to be the recipient of Rebecca’s devotion.

Music began to play on a sadly out-of-tune piano, and she realized she hadn’t heard a single word spoken by the reverend. Horrified, she nearly choked. Would Grant or his family question her about the sermon?

Once the service was over, Grant politely introduced her to curious onlookers who blocked their path to the door. She warmly greeted little old ladies with cloud-colored hair peeking out from elaborate hats and bonnets and a host of women seeking information about the young woman accompanying Dr. Andrews to church. Then there were the poison arrows cast Jenny’s way from a few young women. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” she said.

“I’m not so sure you’d find it humorous.” His warm breath was dangerously close to her neck.

“I think I might.”

“Glad to see you’re perceptive.”

My, she had flirted with him. She should be ashamed. Why, he was clearly the enemy, the one person keeping her from Rebecca. Don’t lose sight of why you’ve come all this way.

A couple approached with three children trailing behind them. The man reminded her of Grant. He had turquoise-colored eyes, something she’d never seen before and found rather intimidating.

“Jenny, this is my brother, Morgan, and his wife, Casey.” He finished the introductions. The striking woman was fairly tall with beautiful auburn hair. Morgan must be the lawyer who had finalized Rebecca’s adoption. At least, that is what the Pinkerton had told her parents. Before she had time to think about the man being a threat to her carefully laid plans, she met nine-year-old Chad, seven-year-old Lark, and two-year-old Daniel. The youngest had inherited his mother’s auburn curls and longed to be held.

Close behind them was a muscular man and a petite woman with flaxen hair. Grant introduced them as his sister and brother-in-law—Ben and Bonnie Kahler. Right behind them were two young boys: Zachary, age eight, and Michael Paul, age five. Jenny noted the couple also expected a third child.

For certain, she’d rather face Father during one of his tirades than the afternoon ahead. Would Grant’s family confront her about her plans? Jenny shuddered at the thought of yet another argument. One episode with Grant had been more than enough.

She must have been insane to accept this invitation. Her thoughts juggled with whether she should endure dinner or politely decline. Already her stomach began to protest the ordeal ahead. Mercy, would the confusion ever end?

From the recesses of her heart, she recalled one of her father’s favorite sayings: Sentiments are foolish when there is a job to do. She stared at her gloved hands and could almost hear his booming voice. Nothing matters but the task at hand. Let no one get in the way of your goals.

Father knew best. Jenny didn’t dare question him.

Before they reached the back of the church, a woman approached Grant concerning her feverish son. “Can you take a look at him now? I’m sure it will only take a few minutes, and I live close by.”

“I’ll watch Rebecca.” Jenny smiled.

He returned the gesture and motioned to a slender woman standing beside the reverend. She must be his mother. “Mama, this is Jenny Martin. Would you keep her and Rebecca company? I have a sick little boy to see.”

“You didn’t have to ask.” The woman extended both hands to grasp Jenny’s. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Jocelyn Rainer, and I understand you’re joining us for dinner.”

Jenny nodded, wanting ever so much to run.

“Hi, Grandma,” Rebecca said. “Can I stand by Granddaddy?”

“Of course, darling.” She took the little girl’s hand and wove through the crowd of people with Jenny following like a poor animal on its way to be slaughtered. This was going to be a nightmare.

With Rebecca deposited beside her grandfather, the two women stepped out into the bright sunshine.

“Did you enjoy the service?” Jocelyn said.

“Yes, it was lovely.” What I remember of it.

“Would you like to come ahead with me to the parsonage? The rest of the family is most likely there.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather wait for Grant unless you need assistance.”

“Heavens, no. Casey and Bonnie are all the help I need. The food simply needs to be set on the table.”

At least they don’t expect me to know how to cook.

With the sun perched at high noon, she soon felt a slow stream of perspiration slip down her face. Already, her clothes clung to her body, and dampness gathered around the ribbon and lace encircling her neck. At this rate, her jacketed dress would soon be drenched. Seeking a reprieve, she stepped beneath a tree.

After what seemed forever, Grant appeared on the road. His easy stride attracted her—far too much.

“The parsonage is much cooler.” He offered her his arm.

“Your mother invited me, but I preferred to wait for you.” She linked her arm into his but avoided his face.

He laughed low, a deep-throated sound that had not the right to unnerve her, but it did. “There’s no need to worry. I assure you.”

They walked silently toward the parsonage. Birds sang, and she wished the same lightheartedness enveloped her. “You are very dedicated to the medical profession,” she began, thinking a change in conversation might pacify her nerves. “And I’ve seen a unique sense of compassion for others.”

“It comes from my faith. I can’t serve God without first loving people—and for me that means tending to their needs.”

With the mention of deity, she grew more distressed. She knew medical doctors at home who by studying science believed in Darwin’s theory of the origins of life, and her parents supported Darwin’s theory, as well.

Reverend Rainer met them at the door of the parsonage and ushered them both inside. Jenny immediately noticed his thick white hair and soft gray eyes. She should have noted these things when he preached, but her mind had been a blur. The other family members were in lively discussion throughout the house, not at all what Jenny had expected.

Jocelyn Rainer waved from the kitchen. “Jenny, we’re so very glad that you’re joining us for dinner. Do come into the kitchen where we all can talk.”

Soon, Jenny listened to Casey, Bonnie, and Jocelyn tease and laugh. She envied their affection and the way they sincerely cared for each other. At home they would have sat in the parlor while the servants served the meal. Conversation would have been intellectually stimulating, but she doubted if the arts and philosophy would be discussed this day.

“May I do something to help?” Jenny said, not sure where that question had come from.

Jocelyn nibbled at her lip. “Umm, would you like to help Casey set the food on the table?”

“Wonderful,” Bonnie said and eased into a chair. “I’ll let you two do all the work. Between the heat and not being able to breathe, I feel as lazy as a cat.”

“You’ve been lazy since the day you were born,” Morgan said from the hallway. “Nothing new under the sun here.”

The women laughed, and moments later Jenny, Casey, and Jocelyn crowded bowls and platters onto a huge circular table.

“So, you are our Rebecca’s aunt,” Jocelyn said. “She favors you, but both of you look like Jessica.”

Jenny’s eyes grew wide. “You knew my sister?”

“Oh yes,” the reverend’s wife said. “She visited the church a few times and came to the parsonage once.”

Jenny didn’t know quite how to respond and turned her attention to adding serving spoons to the table. She felt the weight of someone’s stare and realized Grant was watching her rather curiously. Realizing he would like nothing better than to see her gone from Kahlerville, she refused to meet his gaze.

“Grant told me that you teach school and piano,” Jocelyn said. “And you tutor French.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’d love to hear you play sometime,” Jocelyn said. “The piano at church is in sad condition, but Grant has a splendid one. Mimi plays on occasion for family gatherings.”

She slowly expelled a breath. That’s who she’d heard play the first morning she awoke in his home. Grant’s family treated her so kindly. Surely they didn’t know her mission. “I’d be honored to play for you.” Goodness, had the bump on her head left her senseless?

The smell of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, plump biscuits, steamy hot vegetables, and blackberry pie was wonderful considering what she’d eaten for the past several days.

“I see you eyeing that food.” Grant’s tone held more than a little amusement.

“It’s a feast.”

“Don’t overdo it,” he said, “but I think you could have a little of everything.”

The sound of his voice sent a strange tingle up her spine. Again. This had to cease. She fought the sensation with every ounce of strength she could muster. After the reverend’s grace for dinner, he promptly picked up the biscuits and passed them to Jocelyn on his right and on around to the entire family, including the children.

“Jocelyn and I have been married six and a half years, and I still haven’t been able to teach her how to bake biscuits,” he said.

Jocelyn placed one fluffy delight on her plate and passed the platter on to Morgan. “And you, dear husband, have never learned how to make coffee.”

“Amen,” Morgan said, “but Mama can sure fry chicken.”

The conversation wasn’t at all what Jenny expected. Neither did she expect the well-behaved children nor the merriment. After the meal, the children played, and the men ventured to the church grounds to survey the newly painted building. Jenny couldn’t remember ever enjoying herself more. The children were polite and obedient, and the adults made her feel at ease. Casey made a point of inviting her to their ranch, and Jenny believed she really meant it.

The neatly kept two-story home held a certain charm that drew her to its warmth.

In the parlor Jenny sat and patted the edge of the blue and gold sofa while the other women continued to talk. The sofa and a pair of gold tapestry, overstuffed chairs obviously needed replacing. Several areas were threadbare, but the reverend’s salary probably didn’t afford many extras. Still, the older couple and their family appeared incredibly happy, and she wondered why. Maybe they didn’t know what they lacked. She must ponder on that aspect later.

Along toward evening, they all moved to the Piney Woods Church for the evening service. Grant had come ahead of her with his stepfather. To her surprise, Aubrey Turner attended.

“Good evening, Miss Martin,” he said, as she entered the small church holding Rebecca’s hand. “Are you fully recovered?”

“Why, yes, I am. Thank you for checking on me at Dr. Andrews’s home.” Jenny wondered if she should introduce Mr. Turner to Grant’s family.

“I hope we can share dinner together one day soon. I’m staying at the boardinghouse. Will you be seeking a room there, also?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, I plan to do so soon.”

“Wonderful. We shall have a long discussion about Jessica.”

“How did you know my sister?”

“Why, we were engaged. Didn’t she tell you?”

An icy chill attacked her body. Jessica engaged? Did Rebecca belong to Mr. Turner?

He knelt to face Rebecca. A strange look passed over his face. A hint of sadness attached itself to his handsome features. “Hello, little lady, and what is your name.”

“Rebecca Faith Andrews, sir.”

“You are very beautiful.”

“Thank you. I look like my mama and Aunt Jenny.”

“Indeed you do, Miss Andrews.” Mr. Turner glanced up at Jenny. His eyes clouded, and he blinked. “How did I not know about this?”

“I’m . . . I’m not sure,” Jenny said.

Mr. Turner stood and licked his lips. Clearly disturbed, his gaze darted about. “This changes things considerably. The good doctor has much to answer for.”

Jenny chose not to respond. Something about Aubrey Turner frightened her, not for what he said but for the indefinable look upon his face and the hint of threat to his words.

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