While Love Stirs (29 page)

33

“Charlotte.” Joel touched her arm. “Don’t look so frightened. You don’t need to be scared to ask me anything. I want to tell you about my parents, but you caught me off guard for a minute.”

A familiar anchor tugged on his soul. If she judged him for his father’s problems like so many others had done, this could be the end of their relationship. But Charlotte wasn’t like that.

“Are your parents still alive?” Her honey-smooth voice broke through his thoughts.

“No.” He rubbed his chin and watched a squirrel stop in the middle of the path, then skitter away. “My father died while I was in high school. My mother passed while I was in college.”

“I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and fingered the silver beads of her necklace. “What did your father do?”

“Not much.”

“Excuse me?”

They walked in silence for a minute before he could answer. “When I was about seven, my dad hurt his back on the railroad. The pain was debilitating. Sometimes he’d work awhile, but then he’d have to quit. He couldn’t keep a regular job.”

“How did your family make ends meet?”

“My mom was a housekeeper for a woman on Summit Avenue. She took in sewing too.” He scooped up a rock and tossed it into the woods. “While my dad medicated himself.”

“Medicated himself?”

“He drank, Charlotte.” He wiped his hands on his handkerchief. “But it’s not what you think. I promise the pain was real. He didn’t have any other way to deal with it, so he numbed it with liquor.”

“I believe you.”

He released a long breath. “Thanks.”

“There’s more to this story, isn’t there?” She pointed to a bench along the path. “Let’s sit, and you can tell me everything you’re not saying.”

He sat down beside her. “I think one of the reasons I went into medicine is that I saw my dad suffering so much. I wanted to find answers that would help him and people like him.”

“It had to be hard to watch him suffer year after year. Couldn’t the doctors do anything for him?”

“They tried, but there’s still not much we can do for chronic, severe lumbago even today. My mom spent a fortune on quack pills like Dr. Sheldon’s Gin Pills.” Anger at the mere thought made the muscle in his jaw tick. “Sometimes my dad would be doubled over in pain. He said it was like someone stuck a knife up his spine. That’s when he drank.” Joel clenched his fists. “It made me feel helpless, and I hated that feeling.”

“So you fought for control in other areas.” Her words barely rose above a whisper.

“I suppose so.” He leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “That wasn’t the worst of it. Some of our neighbors didn’t understand how much pain he was in. They thought he was using his back injury as an excuse.”

“That’s ridiculous. Did they say that to you?”

He turned toward her. “One time the boy down the street told me he wasn’t allowed to play with me because his mother said I’d never amount to anything. She told him I’d turn out exactly like my dad.” He took a deep breath and stood up. “That day I decided I’d make something of myself. I’d do what it took to succeed.”

“And you have.” She accepted the hand he offered. “Your parents
would be proud of you. I only wish we could find that boy’s mother and let her know what kind of man you’ve become.”

“You’ve met her.”

“I have?”

“The Lord got ahold of her since then.” He picked up the picnic basket and pressed his hand to her back to indicate they should begin walking again. “The neighbor was Mrs. Goodwin.”

“As in the orphanage’s Mrs. Goodwin?”

“The very same.” He chuckled. “Except Jesus changed her. My mother shared the gospel with her, and she became my mother’s best friend. Mrs. Goodwin has apologized many times for her remark, and I’ve forgiven her, but deep down I knew she only voiced what a lot of people were thinking.”

“That’s why making your temporary job as an assistant superintendent into something permanent is so important to you.” Her eyes widened. “And it’s why you haven’t brought my food service ideas to the superintendent.”

“Charlotte, I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“I understand, Joel. Really, I do.”

She’d responded too quickly. The truth still had hurt her.

“I need you to understand.” He stopped, turned toward her, and took her hand. “In the beginning, I wasn’t willing to stir up any trouble and risk my position when I wasn’t sure I believed in your ideas myself. And now that I’ve seen their value, and once we have the funds from the ball, it will be a lot easier to bring your proposal to Dr. Ancker. He’ll see what I’ve seen. I promise I’ll talk to him.”

She smiled up at him, faith evident in her hazel eyes. “I know you will.”

Despite the sting she must have felt only moments before, he could see she’d managed to forgive him for his selfishness.

His heart swelled. Charlotte Gregory was truly amazing.

He didn’t release her hand. Instead, they walked down the path between two rows of crab apple trees exploding with white and pink
blossoms. A sweetness filled the air—and his heart. He’d confided in her and she’d accepted him, weaknesses and all.

Joel directed her off the path and selected a spot in the shade for their picnic. “Is this okay?” She nodded, so he took the blanket from beneath the basket’s handle and shook it out. The blanket floated down onto the grass.

She opened the picnic basket and withdrew two bottles of Coca-Cola. Along with a bottle opener, she passed the Cokes to Joel while she took out the chicken salad sandwiches and the enameled plates.

He popped the top off the Cokes, passed her one, and then reached for the lid of the basket. “What else do you have in there?”

She swatted his hand away. “It’s a secret.”

He grinned and prayed aloud, thanking God for bringing her into his life. “So what’s this secret you cooked up?”

She peeled the waxed paper off and offered him first choice of sandwiches. “I intend to show you so you can see why I love feeding people.”

“I figured it was because you and your mom used to cook together.” He bit into his sandwich.

“We did all the time, and I do feel close to her when I’m in the kitchen. Sometimes it’s almost like she’s there with me.”

“You miss her?”

“Every day, but that’s not the only reason I’m passionate about food.” She used her fork to pick up a bite of the chicken salad that had escaped the thick slabs of bread. “Eating is about using our senses—all of our senses—at the same time. Smell, sight, taste, touch—”

“Hearing? Not unless you slurp your food.”

“Yes, hearing. When was the last time you bit into an apple and didn’t hear a satisfying crunch?” She smiled. “No other activity involves all the senses at the same time like eating does.”

Joel could think of one. Kissing Charlotte.

“I want to make a game of it. I want you to close your eyes and try to guess what you’re eating.”

“If my eyes are closed, how will I feed myself?”

“I’ll feed you.” Her cheeks bloomed with color. She cocked her head to the side. “Do you think you can handle not being the one in control for half an hour?”

He chuckled. Not only could he handle it, but he thought he’d enjoy it a great deal. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Charlotte first fed him a spicy cheese straw and followed it with smooth, creamy custard laced with a hint of nutmeg.

“Is there more?” Lying on his side, he propped himself up on his elbow and tipped his face toward her, eyes closed.

“Yes. I think you’ll like this.” Digging into the basket, Charlotte located the small rectangle of waxed paper she’d packed. She unfolded it, broke off a piece, and lifted the square of the baked good. “Are you ready? Here it is.”

He opened his mouth and she laid a bite of the brownie on his tongue.

Pleasure rippled across his face and he moaned. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I know I’ve never had anything like this or I’d remember it.”

“It’s a brownie. I used Fannie’s recipe, but I added an extra egg to make it more dense. As I said before, chocolate is the best and most delicious surprise there is.”

A teasing glint sparked in his now-open eyes. “I can think of a few other delicious surprises. I’ll show you one later.”

She giggled and handed him the rest of the brownie before taking one for herself.

“You really do enjoy feeding people, don’t you?”

“It’s probably hard for you to understand, but cooking is a way I can express myself—like an artist does on canvas. Someday I’d love to have my own kitchen. The biggest one in the city. It’s my dream.”

He sat up and took her hand. “From what I’ve seen, I doubt if
you’ll let anything stop you.” Reaching for the basket, he laid his hand on the lid to claim it. “My turn.”

“But I already know what’s inside.”

“Ah, but not in what order I’m going to give it to you. Go on. Close your eyes.”

When he shifted beside her, she heard the dishes in the basket rattle. She felt his arm against her hip. He was so close and she fought to keep her eyes closed. He touched her lips with his finger. Her tongue darted out to taste what was there. Honey.

“Open your mouth.”

She felt his breath on her cheek. She parted her lips and he pressed something against them. A strawberry. She could smell it. Her tongue wrapped around it and she bit into the honey-drenched fruit. The explosion of flavor sweetened by the honey stole her breath. Her first strawberry of the season!

Juice trickled from a corner of her mouth and Joel dabbed it away with his thumb.

“Keep your eyes closed.” His voice, husky and gentle, stirred her. “I have to finish my own strawberry before . . .”

“Before what?”

“This.” He tilted her face toward him and pressed his lips against hers.

At first the kiss was as soft as fresh bread, but it deepened like warm, rich fudge. He tasted of honey and strawberries, overwhelming her senses. Heat pooled inside her like she’d never known, exploding with all the ripeness of summer.

34

Would there be a problem tomorrow? Even the clerk at the Saint James Hotel seemed to think so. He’d told Charlotte he was surprised she was still coming, given the city’s current attitude about the gas company.

Charlotte picked up a gray butter crock from the shop’s shelf and examined the red wing design on its front. The community of Red Wing, home to the Red Wing Union Stoneware Company, sported these pieces of pottery throughout the town in various stores. Clearly the people of this town were proud of its wares and of the town itself.

“Molly, I think the fact that the city is refusing to let the gas company use the city auditorium for this set of lectures is a bad sign.”

“You’ve spoken at a gas company showroom before. We’ll be fine, sugar.” Molly bent to examine a larger crock with the number fifty printed above the wing design. “I don’t reckon I’ve ever seen a crock this size. What do you think a body would put in it?”

“A lot of pickles?”

“Fifty gallons of them?”

A woman from the store approached them. “Did you know every crock is hand-turned on a pottery wheel?”

Molly cocked her head. “Even this big one?”

The shopkeeper smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Are you interested in making a purchase?”

“I don’t think I could carry that, let alone buy it.”

“But I would like these.” Charlotte handed the shopkeeper a set of heavy mixing bowls. They would be a perfect addition to her baking supplies.

Once Charlotte had paid for the bowls, the woman offered to have the purchase delivered to the hotel so Charlotte wouldn’t have to tote it around with her. Charlotte thanked her, then she and Molly headed for the butcher shop to place a meat order.

Nestled beneath the level-crested Barn Bluff, Red Wing appeared to be a thriving, charming community. Brick buildings with molded facades lined the streets. Charlotte stopped in front of a millinery and examined the hats in the display window. Maybe she should get a new hat. There was a green one that was almost the color of Joel’s eyes.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s got you looking happier than a june bug in a lamp store, or are you gonna make me guess?” Molly asked. “’Cause if I had to guess, I’d say it might have something to do with that nice young doctor who came to see you in Deephaven.”

Charlotte gave her a cheeky grin. “It might.”

“Well?”

“He asked to court me. We’ve been stepping out together.”

“Has he kissed you?”

“Molly!”

“Sugar, I was married for thirty years. I know what love does to folks.”

Love? Charlotte hadn’t said a word about love. She hadn’t even thought about it. Her feelings for Joel had been growing, but did she love him?

Molly nudged her arm. “And before you go denying it, I know what love looks like too.”

“But we haven’t known each other long enough for that kind of attachment to form.” Charlotte moved past the millinery and began walking down the sidewalk again.

“I don’t think your heart is wearing a watch, sugar.” Molly
puffed at Charlotte’s grueling pace. “And could you please walk a little slower for those of us whose legs are not a mile long?”

“You’re in luck. Here’s the butcher’s.” Charlotte held the door for her friend.

Inside the shop, Charlotte looked around at the carcasses hanging on hooks. Even the window sported a rack of beef. A bald man with a white apron tied around his waist approached the counter from a butcher’s block, where he’d been cutting up a side of beef. “May I help you ladies?”

“Yes, sir.” Charlotte pulled out her list. “I’m in town to give a cooking demonstration.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “The one with the gas company?”

She nodded. “I’ll need eight pork chops for tomorrow and a five-pound beef roast, sliced very thin, for Wednesday.”

“Sorry, miss, I can’t help you.”

“You’re out of pork chops and beef roasts?” She glanced around the room. Could all of this meat be spoken for? “Well, I guess I can change my plans. I’ll take two chickens and a leg of mutton.”

“Miss, it’s not that I’m out. I can’t help you because you work for that thieving gas company.” He draped a thick arm over the top of a large meat grinder and leaned against it. “I’m sure you’re real sweet, so don’t take this personally.”

“But the gas company shut the streetlights off because the city didn’t pay its bills. That’s hardly the gas company’s fault.”

“Listen, miss. The town’s lady folk weren’t too happy when they shut the lights off. They said it made our streets dangerous. And when the lady folk aren’t happy, then we menfolk suffer.” He scratched his cheek. “I can’t help you ’cause if my wife found out, I’d be eating boiled peanut sandwiches for a week.”

“But how am I going to get the supplies I need? Is there another butcher?”

“By now, probably everyone in town knows you’re here. I doubt if you’ll get meat from any of the butcher shops.”

Molly took hold of her arm. “Come on, sugar. This fella is about as helpful as a back pocket on a Sunday shirt.”

But the butcher had been right. The town’s two other butchers refused them service, as did the two grocers.

Back in their hotel room, Charlotte stared at her notes, tears pricking her eyes. She didn’t have enough food for a demonstration. They’d only brought a few things on this trip because they’d planned to purchase the rest upon arrival. Maybe she could come up with a new menu, but it would hardly demonstrate the superior abilities of the gas range. What was she going to do?

Fanning herself in a wicker chair, Molly released an exasperated breath. “Sugar, we need to have a heart-to-heart talk about empty vessels.”

“What? I think all of our vessels are looking pretty empty right now.”

The older woman smiled. “I declare, Charlotte, did you hear a word I said in the last ten minutes?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”

She snapped her fan shut and laid it on her lap. “I was asking if you remember the story of the widow who approached Elisha. She owed a great debt after her husband died, and she came to Elisha to get help.”

“I sort of remember the story. Didn’t he ask her what she had in her house? And she said all she had was a little bit of oil.”

“That’s right.” Molly pushed herself out of the chair with a grunt. “Then Elisha told her to collect all the empty vessels she could from her neighbors.”

“You want me to go beg for meat from the neighbors?” Charlotte paced the room.

“Heavens, no.” Molly sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside her.

“I need practically everything.” Charlotte plopped down. “Flour, yeast, sugar. The only thing I have enough of is spices.”

“No, sugar, you’re missing the point. God can always open a way for his children when they’re in trouble.”

“I didn’t even think to pray.” Charlotte looked down at the rug on the floor, then back up. “It’s too late, though. We don’t have anything.”

“What you have is enough for God. You’ve got some spices, you’ve got a smart head on your shoulders, and you’ve got friends.” Molly laughed. “Think about it. All Moses had was a rod when he approached Pharaoh, David faced a giant with a handful of rocks, and Samson used the jawbone of a donkey to slay a thousand Philistines. And remember, Jesus fed multitudes with five loaves of bread and two fish.”

“I don’t even have that.”

Molly chuckled and lifted Charlotte’s chin. “God’s teaching us a lesson here, sugar. How little we have doesn’t matter. He can take what little we have and use it in a big way, but we have to bring him our empty vessels so he can fill them.”

“I know you don’t mean you want me to set my empty bowls out on the table.”

“Sugar, I want you to ask God to show you what to do.” Molly stood up. “I’m going downstairs to one of the restaurants to see if I can rustle us up a couple of lemonades. I’ll take them out back to the veranda and wait for you. After you’ve had a chat with the Lord, you can join me.”

“I don’t know what to ask for.”

“Then sit tight and listen. Sometimes that’s better anyway.”

Charlotte rushed onto the veranda and found Molly in a rocking chair, head tipped back and eyes closed. Perspiration dotted the older woman’s upper lip. Poor Molly. Today was warm, but it was a far cry from July and August temperatures. Molly would be miserable by then.

Two glasses of lemonade sat on the table beside her. Charlotte could hear the rush of the Mississippi River about a half mile away. With the breeze from the water, this was a peaceful place for a nap.
Too bad she needed to wake her traveling companion. But God had pressed an answer on Charlotte’s heart, and they needed to get going if they were to fill those “vessels.”

She laid her hand on Molly’s shoulder, but Molly didn’t stir. My, she was sleeping soundly. Giving her shoulder a little shake, Charlotte waited. When Molly didn’t respond, she shook her harder. “Molly! Are you all right?”

Molly opened her eyes. “Goodness gracious, Charlotte. You trying to send me to meet my maker?”

“You weren’t waking. You scared me to death.” She drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Well, of course I am.” She stretched. “Sit down and have your lemonade. You look a mite peaked.”

Charlotte sank into the chair and grabbed the glass. A few sips of the cold, tart beverage relaxed her. “I came to tell you I got my answer. I asked God what I could do with what little I had. I got to thinking about what you said about having a mind and friends, and then I had my answer, but we’re going to have to act fast.”

Less than a half hour later, Charlotte located the Western Union office while Molly headed to the hardware store to start setting up for tomorrow’s lecture.

Inside, Charlotte eyed the boxed telephone area and then looked at the long list in her hand. If she telephoned, things would move more quickly, but with the quality of the telephone lines and the length of her list, placing a call was a risk. She would need all of the ingredients she asked for delivered.

The telegraph operator approached the counter and asked if he could help her. Charlotte passed him the list. “I’ll need this sent.”

The operator’s eyes widened. “You want me to send all of this, miss?”

“Yes, sir, and right away.”

“Are you sure? You realize a telegram is a penny per word, right? This is going to cost you a fortune.”