Rumors and Promises (16 page)

A
s Sophie and Ian walked through the gate of the white picket fence and up the pathway, the Myles’ buggy came around the corner.

“Why, we’re back just in time.” Maggie smiled and let Sophie walk ahead of her when she reached the doorway.

When Sophie stepped inside, she momentarily forgot the stinging words of Gertrude Wringer and the sudden discomfort she’d experienced with Ian. Maggie had defended her as though she were a sister.

“Come on with you now, take off your wraps and warm up. Surely you’ll need a chance to do that before you start playing the piano.”

“I suppose a cup of tea wouldn’t hurt.” Sophie nodded.

“It’s so good to see you.” Gloria reached her hand out in greeting with such gracefulness once she and Elise had entered the parlor. She stood so straight and even in a simple black wool jacket and skirt looked like the epitome of elegance.

Elise gave a slight smile and stood with her hands behind her back.

“Say ‘hello’.” Her grandmother pushed her forward with a pat on the back.

Immediately the tiny smile disappeared and her blue eyes were hidden as her eyelids swept downward. Only her long golden lashes were barely noticeable.

Sophie watched as the child closed off like the shriveled bloom of a flower. She felt that way on the inside sometimes, but couldn’t afford to totally close herself off. Adults didn’t understand if other grownups felt like that, but they would indulge a child. Was she wishing that she were a child again? Life certainly had been simpler then.

Though it seemed Mama had to practically tie her to the piano bench, and she’d spent much of her childhood playing endless scales, it had been worth it.
Mama.
How she longed for the comfort of her mother’s hugs. But Papa’s controlling ways had come between them. She shook herself from her reverie.

Sophie curved up one side of her mouth and touched Elise’s shoulder. “After we have a little tea or hot cocoa, you can sit next to me at the piano. How would that be?”

Elise nodded.

Gloria gave a nervous laugh. “Well, at least we are making a bit of progress.”

“I’ll be happy to amuse Caira. I can finish my sermon later.” Ian didn’t look directly at Sophie. He sounded a bit terse.

What was wrong? Had she upset him by implying that one of his church members had insulted her? After all, Gertrude wasn’t the newcomer, she was. Perhaps Sophie was assuming she held too much importance in his life. The sudden withdrawal of the annoyingly honest, prying gaze that had breached her defenses and had stilled her heart, puzzled her.

Sophie already knew that she couldn’t entertain any truly romantic thoughts about Ian, but she’d already come to depend on his kindness. Did it seem that she had thrown herself at him? Flirted with him? Just the thought made her flush.

“Sophie, dear, are you quite all right?” Maggie handed her a cup filled with tea.

“I-I’m fine,” she stammered. “I’m just a little warm today, that’s all.”

“With this wonderful promise of spring amidst the winter, I can understand.” Gloria sighed.

“Yes, of course.” Sophie sat down at the table.

Ian talked to Caira much of the time but barely looked Sophie’s way during the serving of refreshments.

“No more cookies for you, young lady.” Ian shook his head.

“Mo’ pease!” Caira stuck out her bottom lip and put out her hand.

Ian looked Sophie’s way. Their gazes locked for a moment and then he looked toward the little one. “She’s already had two. I didn’t think you’d want her to have any more.”

“No, I don’t think that she should. That’s enough, dear.” She leaned toward Caira to wipe her sticky hands.

Her daughter whined and kicked her feet against the chair.

“That’s quite enough. Do you want to go home or stay and visit ’Cowmick?” Sophie kept her tone firm and didn’t dare look at Ian.

“’Cowmick!” Caira grabbed onto his lapel with fierce dedication.

“Then you must be well behaved.” Sophie took Caira’s chin in her hand and turned the child’s face toward her. “What do you say?”

Leaning that way, with the child between them, Sophie caught the scent of Ian. Crisp citrus, like a warm breeze. Whether it was the residue of shaving soap or cologne, she could not tell. She wondered how it would feel to touch his shaven cheek, causing a pleasant shiver to course down her spine. Such a musing shocked and frightened her. She turned her thoughts back to the child.

“Yes, Soffie. Pease?”

“All right, then.” Sophie felt warmth creep over her cheeks yet again that day. She met the sympathetic glances that Maggie and Gloria sent her way, shyly. “I’m afraid she is a rather spirited child.”

“My dear, be glad your little sister still has some spirit. I’m hoping that someday my granddaughter will have hers back.” Gloria lowered her voice and patted her mouth with a napkin, as though she hoped Elise wouldn’t hear her.

“Well, I best get to practicing while Caira is slightly subdued.”

Sophie once again sat at the mahogany Bidershem piano. Its beauty hadn’t ceased to amaze her.
God, give me strength
. Emotion swept over her as she moved her hand across the lid of the piano and felt its smoothness.

Memories of Miss McGillicutty tapping the end of her cane on the floor, to keep the beats even during her music lesson, took over her thoughts. The old maid’s wrinkled cheeks had been almost as hollow as Gertrude Wringer’s. But the piano teacher, who tried not to smile her approval too often, had a sparkle in her eye. When Sophie had approached near perfection in a piece, Miss McGillicutty had always exclaimed, “Fine, fine! You’re coming along now, child.” Remembering such times eased her thoughts of the encounter with Gertrude, cheering her considerably for a time.

Shouldn’t she choose to think of the happy times of her childhood? Yet the events that led her to take Caira and leave her home crowded their way in. How bittersweet! To wish to be home again, yet believe it beyond possibility. All this twisted in her heart. Between Ian’s sudden aloofness, Mrs. Wringer’s verbal attack, and her memories, Sophie desired to bolt to the comfort of the boardinghouse and hide from the world.

However, Gloria stood smiling nearby, with her arm around her granddaughter, waiting with such patience.

“Oh dear, I’m afraid I haven’t dusted this lovely instrument often enough, have I?” Maggie worried over the top of the piano, running a clean hanky on its already highly polished surface.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I was just thinking … of the first Bidershem I ever played.” Sophie stiffened, sitting straight and resolved to lift the lid, which covered the keys.

Maggie opened her mouth, a question forming in her expression. It was time for Sophie to change the subject. “Come sit by me, Elise. You can watch me play now.”

The child’s eyes widened. The hint of a smile played on her lips.

Sophie picked out a few children’s tunes to warm up and caught Elise grinning more than once. Then, opening the hymnal, Sophie played each piece Ian had suggested for her in his list.

When the little blonde girl reached for the keys, Gloria spoke up. “That’s not a toy. I don’t want you banging around on it.”

“What if I teach her how to play?” Surely the warm memory of Sophie’s piano teacher caused the words to slip out of her mouth before she realized. “I mean, only if it’s all right with you, Maggie, and you give me permission to teach your granddaughter, Gloria.”

“Would you like that, darling?”

Elise nodded toward her grandma and smiled, looking as though she would burst without talking.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” Gloria’s eyebrows furrowed.

Would she mind? Sophie wondered at her impetuous offer. Yet she remembered her own enthusiasm and curiosity over how to play the piano when she was a little girl. Maybe Elise would have the same natural ability. If nothing else, perhaps being able to express herself through music would bring healing.

How many times had Sophie buried her woes in playing tempestuous or worshipful pieces on the piano, or singing out to God? As a young girl asking questions of life, it had brought great comfort. After the attack, Mama had often cried when she’d play, saying her music ministry was ruined. Causing her mother hurt hadn’t brought much succor. Yet using Maggie’s piano felt like the comfort of a family hearth.

The Myles family’s hurts were different, but she understood something about such profound losses. They were kindred spirits. Perhaps God had a further purpose to use her broken life to help heal another’s and maybe eventually her own.

Sophie gave Gloria a genuine smile. “Of course not. If Maggie doesn’t mind my being here a little longer, then perhaps we could begin by giving her a lesson before I practice each week.”

“I would be happy with the company.” Maggie clasped her hands together like a tot just given the promise of candy.

“I’d be happy to teach Philip too. You’re so generous in letting me use your piano and welcoming us all into your home. What an interruption we all must be!”

“Hmm … I guess I thought perhaps Master Philip would take lessons from his uncle, when he’s ready, that is.” Maggie gazed toward Ian.

He looked up from the book he read to Caira. “I’m sure Miss Biddle would be my superior in teaching.” His glance brushed off Sophie as he returned to his task.

“Perhaps we shall take you up on that offer, then, Sophie.” Maggie beamed.

“Well then, we’ll begin in earnest next Wednesday, with at least one student.” Sophie patted Elise on the back. She wondered at Ian’s comment about her being the superior teacher, finding it hard to believe he had that much confidence in her.

As she straightened up the books on the piano rack, she was more than aware of Ian reading to Caira by the fire. The glow of the hearth upon her daughter’s face made her look perfectly cherubic. Ian’s tender smiles and patience made him look like a prime candidate for fatherhood.

Why hadn’t he found a wife yet? He was kind, handsome, and a good pastor. Perfect for someone else—probably too perfect. Sophie bristled. If he ever found out the truth about both of them, would he even want her as an acquaintance?

Gloria and Elise said their “good-byes” and left bundled in their wraps.

Maggie scurried around, setting the table with her gleaming Blue Willow plates. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The smells of chicken frying and, perhaps, sweet potatoes lingered in the air. Warmth emanated from the coal stove. Sophie’s stomach rumbled. Her heartstrings sought to tie her to a chair. Remembering her earlier exchange with Ian, she squared her shoulders. “No thank you, Maggie, I have chores at the boardinghouse.” That was the truth. “Caira, come, let’s put your coat on.” Sophie went to the coat tree near the front door for the garment.

Caira whined, rubbing her eyes. Clearly her nap hadn’t been long enough. Ian scooped her into his arms. “Now, now, Caira, you must listen to Sophie. Did you like our story time?” The toddler nodded. “We’ll do this again when your sister comes to practice, but you must be well behaved.”

He helped Sophie put the coat on the little one, who insisted on emphasizing her goodness by saying, “Sh,” and putting her finger to her mouth.

Sophie concentrated on her daughter’s face, anxious to pull her away from the minister. “Thank you for amusing Caira, Ian. I’m sorry she’s a bit fussy with her molars coming in.”

“She’s never a problem.”

Their hands brushed and he stepped back. Ian pulled her shawl from the coat rack and held it out to help Sophie. She grasped the shawl away from him. “I’ll take that.” Setting Caira down, she wrapped herself up and took her daughter’s hand.

Ian cleared his throat. “Let me take you home.”

“No, thank you. It’s quite nice out actually. We could use the brisk walk.”

Maggie rushed to hug her. “I’m sorry to see you go so soon. I hope you won’t catch a chill.”

“We’ll be fine.” Sophie hugged Maggie back, trying not to glance over her shoulder at Ian, but there he was, running a nervous hand through his dark, wavy hair and looking anywhere but at her. What was happening between them?

If silence could speak louder than words after dinner, then the quiet shouted at Ian, especially considering his sister’s usual chattiness. The stale odor of frying grease from the chicken hung in the air.