What Once Was Lost (26 page)

Tommy folded his arms across his middle. “Huh-uh.”

Townsfolk in their finest garb, Bibles cradled in their arms, moved up the stone-paved walkway to the church steps. The service would start soon. Levi set the brake and took hold of Tommy’s arm, giving him a little push to the edge of the seat. “Hurry up now. That bell won’t ring forever.”

“Not goin’.” Tommy planted his feet against the floor and pressed himself against the seat back. His chin jutted—a defiant gesture that made Levi grit his teeth in aggravation.

Miss Willems had specifically requested Tommy be delivered to church each Sunday, and Levi had promised to bring him. He might not have much use for church himself, but he didn’t want to go back on his word. “Now listen, Tommy—”

“They don’t want me.” Belligerence faded, and pleading filled its place. “Can’t I just stay with you?”

While the community worshiped together, Levi had planned to drive to the poor farm to see what kind of damage the rain had caused. If water had
soaked wood inside the house, Miss Willems might need additional lumber. He could easily take Tommy with him, but it would upset Miss Willems. And he didn’t want to upset Miss Willems. And not because he was scared to face her wrath. Even all riled up, she was harmless as a kitten.

He reminded the boy, “Miss Willems is expecting you.”

Tommy’s chin quivered. “Please, Mr. Jonnson? I don’t wanna go in there where the preacher talks about how God wants us all to love each other but people don’t pay me any mind.”

The lament too closely echoed Levi’s deeply held hurt. He wouldn’t force Tommy to sit in the church pew and be ignored by self-righteous hypocrites. He drew in a breath. “All right then. You can stay with me.” Remorse pinched. He hoped he could find the words to explain his decision to Miss Willems, because she’d surely ask why he hadn’t brought to Tommy to service.

“ ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’ ”

Cora listened as the minister read a verse from chapter 8 of Romans. Her heart gave a hopeful leap, and she allowed her mind to return to the conversation she’d shared with Miss Willems yesterday evening. The mercantile owners—people who’d been robbed of forming their own family—needed a helper. Miss Willems had told Cora to take the job if she wanted it. At first Cora had resisted. How could she work side by side with a woman whose womb couldn’t hold a child while her own belly swelled? It would be cruel—like mocking the childless woman.

But the verse from the Bible sent Cora’s thoughts skittering in a new direction. Maybe … just maybe … her carrying this child could be good after all. Mr. and Mrs. Creeger sat on a bench across the aisle, Bibles open in their laps and faces turned attentively to the preacher. They were fine people—Miss Willems held them in high esteem. Surely they were the kind of people the preacher
meant when he said “them who are the called.” They wanted a baby. And Cora carried a baby she didn’t want.

Maybe God was going to let her help the Creegers with more than just clerking.

Satisfied that the canvas someone had nailed around the doorway between the damaged kitchen and the poor farm’s dining room had offered sufficient protection from the rain, Levi headed across the grounds to the barn. When they’d arrived at the poor farm, Levi had instructed Tommy to go in the barn and stay there while he checked the house. Tommy had eagerly entered the large rock structure, saying he’d get in the pen with the goats, so Levi clomped immediately to the goat pen in the far corner of the barn. But Tommy wasn’t there.

Levi turned a slow circle, searching for signs of the boy. “Tommy?”

“Over here.”

The voice came from the stall where Levi had piled the lengths of lumber. Levi chuckled in mild self-deprecation. He’d been so lost in thought he’d walked right past Tommy. He headed back to the front of the barn and rounded the slatted wall defining the stall. “There you are. I thought—” Levi froze, disbelief bringing him to a stop.

Tommy was kneeling beside a scattered tumble of splintered boards. The boy patted one board, his palm moving back and forth across its battered length. “The wood, it’s all messed up. I reckon the men won’t be able to use these to fix the house.” A grin twitched at his cheeks. “I guess that means it’ll be a while yet before Miss Willems can fix the poor farm house.”

Chapter 26

Levi drove from the poor farm to the Beasley Boardinghouse with regret resting heavily on his shoulders. The loss of the lumber hurt. Such a waste … But as much as it bothered him to see those boards destroyed, he was more concerned about how Miss Willems might be destroyed by the news. She’d poured her very soul into that poor farm. Whoever hacked the wood to pieces might as well have taken an ax to the woman’s heart.

“You stay here,” he told Tommy when he drew the horse to a stop in front of the boardinghouse. He couldn’t help being a bit miffed by the boy’s reaction to the destruction. Didn’t Tommy care about anyone but himself? Somehow he needed to help the boy understand that thinking only of himself was a selfish way to live.
That’ll be a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?
With a jolt, Levi shoved the internal taunt aside and hurried up the dirt pathway to the porch.

The boardinghouse owner answered Levi’s knock on the front door. She blinked at him blearily. Her dress was rumpled, her knot of gray hair askew, and she yawned widely behind her hand. Obviously he’d disturbed her Sunday afternoon nap. “Can I help you?”

Levi snatched off his hat and held it in both hands. “I’d like to speak to Miss Willems, please.”

A slight frown creased the woman’s face. “She ain’t here. Always spends Sunday afternoons with the poor farm folk. Last week they all went to Tina Claussen’s place, on Washington Street. Dunno where they went today, though.”

Levi fiddled with his hat. “When will she be back?”

“Somewhere around four so she an’ Cora can prepare supper for my boarders.” Her gaze narrowed. “But she’ll be workin’ then. No time for visitin’.”

Which meant he needed to locate her before she returned to duty. He slipped his hat into place. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She closed the door without a word.

Levi returned to the wagon and swung himself into the seat. He took up the reins but sat with them draped over his palms, unmoving. What should he do? He could return to the mill and come back tomorrow morning, but Wes would stumble upon that damaged lumber when he went out to feed the animals. No doubt the man would go straight to Miss Willems. Levi needed to be the one to tell her—he’d find a way to gently share what had happened rather than just blurt it out. But how would he find her? She could have been invited to lunch by any number of parishioners.

His stomach rumbled. He and Tommy needed to eat. Brambleville’s only café wasn’t open on Sunday, but they could go to the hotel dining room. Hopefully he had enough in his pocket to pay for two dinners. He tugged the reins, urging the horse to turn the wagon around.

Tommy grabbed the seat with both hands and looked back and forth. “Where we goin’?”

“To get something to eat.”

“Oh.” The boy aimed his face away from Levi and fell silent.

Levi gritted his teeth. They might both end up with indigestion, but while they ate, he’d talk to Tommy about putting other people’s needs ahead of his own. He couldn’t let the boy grow up to be self-centered and reclusive—Levi’s chest tightened—like him. Only a couple of wagons were parked outside the hotel, leaving Levi plenty of room. He called, “Whoa,” and his horse snorted as they came to a stop. Levi set the brake, hopped down, and said, “Let’s go, Tommy.”

Tommy eased his way to the edge of the wagon and took hold of the side. Slowly, as stiff as an old man, he lifted one leg over and found the wagon wheel with his foot. Levi stepped back, close enough to catch the boy if he fell but far enough away to give him space. Tommy’s feet met the ground, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

Levi took Tommy’s elbow and guided him onto the boardwalk. Even before they reached the door, the aromas of fried chicken, biscuits, and apple pie greeted them. Tommy sniffed the air, and Levi’s stomach rolled over in eagerness. He gave Tommy’s arm a little tug and sped his feet.

The dining room waited to the left of the wide hallway, its glass french doors open in invitation. From the sound of things, a sizable crowd was taking advantage of the hotel’s cooking today. Levi hoped there’d be room for him and the boy. They stepped from the stained-oak hallway onto a thick red carpet covered in green ribbon swirls and large cream-colored roses. Levi had always liked the feel of carpet beneath his feet—almost as nice as a thick covering of sawdust.

Round tables draped with white cloths crowded the room, and—as Levi had suspected—folks filled nearly every chair. He paused and glanced around, seeking an empty table. To his relief two were available. He urged Tommy toward the closest one.

The hotel owner’s daughters, Birdie and Virgie—a pair of stout young women who’d had the misfortune of inheriting their father’s oversize nose and broad chin—bustled from table to table, refilling coffee cups or delivering plates of food. He caught Birdie’s eye, and she hurried over as he and Tommy slid into chairs.

“Good afternoon.” She swiped at her glistening brow with the back of her hand. “Do you need to see a menu, or would you like to order the special? Fried chicken with fixin’s today.”

Levi plopped his hat on the table next to his silverware. “Is the Sunday special still thirty-five cents a plate?”

“Yep. Or forty cents with pie.”

Levi patted his pocket, imagining the coins inside. The cinnamon essence of the apple pie drifting from a nearby table enticed him, but he needed to be sensible. “Two specials, no pie.”

She hurried off.

Tommy sat with his head low and his shoulders raised, a familiar pose
when surrounded by people. Levi was ready to tap his arm and instruct him to sit up straight instead of hiding like a prairie dog in its burrow, but the boy suddenly bolted upright, his gaze bouncing around. He groped and found Levi’s arm.

“Mr. Jonnson, I hear—”

Before the boy could complete the sentence, the swish of skirts alerted Levi to someone’s approach. He turned slightly and found himself looking at the round silver watch that always hung against the bodice of Miss Willems’s green muslin dress.

When Levi Jonnson entered the hotel dining room with Tommy in tow, Christina could hardly believe her eyes. She’d been certain some catastrophe had kept the man from venturing into town. Perhaps the rain had flooded his roadway, or maybe he’d had some sort of emergency in his mill. What other explanation could there be for his breaking his promise to bring Tommy to church? Now, seeing them share a round table as if coming to the hotel to eat were an everyday occurrence, anger stirred.

The man leaped to his feet. “Miss Willems.”

She aimed a frown at Mr. Jonnson while placing her hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “I see you’re surprised to find me here. Had Mr. and Mrs. Creeger not invited the poor farm residents to join them for a celebratory dinner today, you would have escaped my notice completely.”