A Thousand Little Blessings (29 page)

If Rosa got a hint that Etta was troubled, Rosa would also be upset.

After several deep breaths and a few practice smiles, Etta climbed the steps and walked through the back door. “Evening, Rosa. How was everything today?”

Rosa was at the counter, chopping onions. “Good day today. Your papa walked to the stable and back without Charlie's help. Charlie said the horses were so happy to see him, they sang and danced.”

“I wish I'd seen that,” Etta said with a laugh. “I'll go up and see Papa now.”

“No, mija. He's sleeping right now. I just checked on him.”

“Where's Mr. Simpson?”

“He went into town with my brother.”

“Oh? Is Mr. Simpson making friends with your family?”

A shy smile lit Rosa's face. “You could say that.”

Etta nudged Rosa with her shoulder. “Is there something I need to know?”

Rosa's cheeks grew a charming shade of pink. “Well…maybe…”

This time, Etta's smile was genuine. “Is Mr. Simpson going to be asking for long-term employment soon?”

Rosa ducked her head. “Well, mija, you know, your papa is going to need help for a very long time. Somebody to take care of the little things he needs. Plus, Charlie could help around the place with the horses and the garden after Benito goes to college.”

“I see. I think that's a very good idea.”

Rosa's dark eyes glistened with excitement. “Really, mija? You don't mind if me and Charlie…well…he asked me if I would marry him and…”

“And?”

“I said maybe.”

“Maybe? What are your reservations?”

Rosa wiped her hands on her apron. “I can't leave you and your papa all alone. You need me now more than ever. But Charlie, he said that as long as he could find work, we would stay in Burnet.”

Etta would gladly find work for Mr. Simpson if it made Rosa happy. “Do you think your brother will give his permission?”

Rosa's voice took on a serious tone. “He will if he knows what's good for him.”

Etta laughed with Rosa. It had been a long time since Etta had something to celebrate. “Are you happy, Rosa?”

Rosa scooped the chopped vegetables into a black skillet. “I think so. My husband, he died a long time ago and…well it might be nice to have somebody special again.”

Etta put her arm around Rosa's shoulders. “If you're happy, I'm happy. Mr. Simpson will have a job in Burnet for as long as he wants it. If not here at the house, then I'll find something for him to do at the bank.”

Rosa embraced Etta. “
Gracias, mija
. I'll tell Charlie when I see him.”

“Now, what can I do to help with dinner?”

Rosa touched her forehead with her palm. “Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Sara called a few minutes before you got home. She wants you to come see her.”

“Now?”

“That's what she said. You go on, and I'll finish the dinner. When Charlie comes home, he'll wake up Mr. Davis, and we'll eat.”

Etta headed toward the kitchen door. “Just think, Rosa. You're going to be a bride. We'll have to find you a new dress.”

“Nothing too fancy. I'm too old for those dresses that look like clouds of lace. Besides, I already had a big wedding when I was nineteen.”

“As soon as you have the date, we'll go shopping. I haven't shopped for new clothes in a long time.”

The image of Rosa's shining eyes and smiling face stayed with Etta as she walked the short distance to the Bensons' house.

Charlie would have never come into their lives if her father hadn't needed him, and now Charlie would change Rosa's life as well. One person's life touched many others, sometimes by accident, sometimes by fate.

Like Gabriel. Even though Etta had been acquainted with Gabriel all her life, she hadn't known him until recently. The time she'd spent with him had been powerful and life-changing. He'd encouraged her to prove herself, and he'd trusted her with his secret. Unlike George Owens, Gabriel hadn't befriended her as a way to gain control over the bank, and unlike William Clark, Gabriel didn't expect her to resign from the bank in order to stand by his side while he climbed the ladder of success.

However, Gabriel had returned from his travels a different person. Where he'd once been good-humored and friendly, he was now cold and surly. She'd stayed away from Gabriel since he'd tended Mira's hoof and she'd told herself that dreams of loving him were foolish.

How peculiar life was. She'd rebuffed George's interest; she'd probably decline William's offer, and the one man she cared for didn't return her feelings. How did other women maneuver the complicated world of love?

As she neared Sara's house, Etta saw that Mr. Benson's truck was not parked in its usual spot. Hopefully, that meant Gabriel wasn't at home. As much as Etta wanted to see him, dealing with his churlish disposition would be too much after everything that had happened at the board meeting.

In keeping with the warm spring weather, Sara's front door and windows were open. Etta knocked on the doorframe and called, “Sara? You wanted to see me?”

Sara's voice sounded from within the house. “Come on in, Etta.”

Etta walked through the doorway. “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen. Come on back.”

Etta checked the house as she passed through the parlor and hallway. Gabriel was not in sight. “Rosa told me you wanted to see me.”

Sara placed a lid on a blue metal roasting pan and slid it into the oven. “You've been so busy lately we haven't had a chance to talk.”

“Where's your family?”

“Gabriel went with his dad to unload some lumber. I'm not sure how long they'll be.”

Etta breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to see Gabriel. Really, she did, but another round of poorly-veiled insults might reduce her to tears.

Sara closed the oven door and washed her hands. “Come sit down. I want you to taste the rice pudding I made this morning. I got a new recipe from a magazine
.
” Sara spooned the pudding into a bowl.

Etta had always loved coming to Sara's house. From the outside it was a simple white-frame house with tall windows to catch every available breeze, but inside the warmth of love suffused every room. Faded forget-me-nots embellished the kitchen wallpaper and the shelves held mismatched plates, but Etta thought it was the nicest room in the house.

The kitchen was where Sara cared for her family. She concocted home remedies to treat everything from the sniffles to skinned knees, and although company was shown into the parlor, those close to her were entertained at the well-used kitchen table.

“Now then,” said Sara, setting a bowl of pudding and a spoon in front of Etta, “catch me up on everything that's been going on.”

Etta tasted a spoonful of the sweet, creamy pudding. Sara had always been a good and loyal friend, but Etta couldn't talk to her about Gabriel. “The pudding's delicious. Very smooth.”

“Good. First, tell me what happened when you went to Austin. Did Nora chaperone you?”

It seemed as though years had passed since her weekend with Nora. “Oh, yes. And she gave me quite a talking to about my inability to refuse George Owens's attentions.”

“That's an important skill for every woman to know. Did you set him straight?”

“I tried. Turns out he was more interested in taking control of the bank than he was in romancing me.”

“He said that?”

“He sure did. Nora couldn't believe it either.”

“Good riddance, I say. What's this I hear about you and William Clark? His mother has been spouting off about her son proposing to you. Does she know what she's talking about?”

Etta tilted her head from one side to the other. “Sort of. William did ask permission to talk to Papa about marrying me, and at first, I thought it might work. I mean, William's always been very kind. He always compliments me in one way or another, and the Clarks have been friends of the family for years and years.”

“But?”

“But it's become clear that marriage to William would be like voluntarily entering a cage. He wants someone who'll care for his mother and be content to raise his children and stand in his shadow. He'd never sit still for a wife who wants to work outside the home.”

“There are plenty of girls who would be satisfied with that kind of life, but you're not one of them, Etta. The Lord gave you a kind heart and a sharp mind. It would be a shame to waste them on Ida Clark's many imagined aches and pains.”

“What I can't understand is why I've suddenly received the attention of two men. I went years without attracting more than polite greetings.”

“But that's when you were still hiding from life. Remember how Catherine used to encourage you to attend the young people's group at church?”

Etta frowned and pressed her lips together. “I'm too old for that group.”

“No, you're not. That was just an excuse to hide. And whenever you went to horse shows, your mother practically had to make you attend the dances.”

Etta shifted in the hard wooden chair. Sara's depiction of her was right on the money, and Etta didn't like it one bit. “I was afraid no one would ask me to dance.”

“Did that ever happen?”

“Not really. I never was the belle of the ball, but I was never a wallflower, either.”

“That's what I'm saying. You never gave any of the young gentlemen a chance to know you.”

Etta propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “I never thought of it that way before, but you're right. I was hiding.”

“Now that you've been forced to step into the spotlight, people are seeing you for who you really are.”

“And who would that be?”

“A lovely, intelligent, brave woman who refuses to let the world beat her down.”

Etta thought about her earlier tears in the conference room. “I don't know about that. You should have seen me at today's board meeting.”

“What happened?”

“Remember when I told you about someone stealing from the bank?”

“Of course. Did you find out who it was?”

“It was Uncle Carl.”

Sara fell back in her chair and slowly shook her head. “I wish I could say I was surprised.”

“Do you know something I don't?”

“Your mother and father quarreled about Carl working at the bank.”

“Papa didn't want to hire Carl?”

“No, your
mother
didn't want him to hire Carl. Your uncle lost his job in San Antonio because he was suspected of overcharging the customers and pocketing the extra money. He was given a choice—either leave town or face an investigation.”

Why hadn't her parents told her? She would have seen Carl in a different light if she'd known about his past. “I never knew he was in trouble with the law.”

“Carl was a few years ahead of Catherine and me in school. He was always a troublemaker, always looked for the easy way out. Catherine knew what kind of person her brother was, and she didn't want Henry to give him a position that had anything to do with money.”

“But Papa hired him anyway. I kept hoping I was wrong about Uncle Carl, but when I'd gathered enough evidence, I gave it to William.”

“And what did our county prosecutor do?”

“He confronted Carl at today's board meeting.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “That must have been quite a show.”

A painful tightness constricted Etta's throat, as if the words were too distressing to say. “It was awful, Sara. The sheriff took Carl to jail.”

“Oh, Etta.” Sara wrapped her hands around Etta's forearm. “I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. Does your papa know?”

“Not yet. I was going to tell him, but he was napping when I got home. To tell you the truth, I'm afraid of what the news will do to him. He'll want to know how I let this happen.”

Sara lowered her chin and looked at Etta. “I think you've got your calendar a little mixed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn't you tell me the records showed the funds had been stolen over a long period of time?”

“That's right.”

“Then Carl started stealing while your father was still in charge. You stopped the thief, Etta. If it weren't for you…”

Sara was right again. Why hadn't Etta realized Carl had started stealing while her father was overseeing the bank's daily operations? “Do you think Papa will see it that way?”

Sara fisted her hands on her hips. “If he doesn't, I'll march right over there and give him a piece of my mind.”

Etta chuckled in spite of herself. “Papa wouldn't like that.”

“I'm sure he wouldn't. But…” Sara stood. “I have something he will like.” Sara left the kitchen but returned a few seconds later with a blue-and-white quilt draped across one shoulder.

Warmth spread through Etta's chest. “Oh, Sara. It's so beautiful. I never imagined. How can I ever thank you?”

Sara smiled and folded the quilt into a neat rectangle. “No thanks necessary. We were happy to finish it for Catherine.”

“Will you give me a list of the ladies who worked on it? I'd like to write them a note.”

“That would tickle them pink.”

Etta took the quilt from Sara and lightly touched the patchwork. Her mother's stitches, her stitches, and the stitches of her mother's friends. Each stitch a prayer. Each stitch an act of love. Etta laid her head on the quilt and let the love seep into her. “I miss Momma so much. She used to say that the world was filled with a thousand little blessings, and it was up to us to find them. I wonder what blessing she'd see in everything that's happened during the last few months.”

Sara sat next to Etta and stroked her hair. “Oh, I don't know. A husband who's getting better every day and a daughter who's grown into a strong, capable woman?”