Rumors and Promises (18 page)

After they asked several doctrinal questions, Dr. Moore stood. “I think she’s answered our questions to satisfaction, which are far more important than references.”

All but Elder Wringer nodded in agreement and mumbled assent. He kept his glance cast down, not making eye contact.

“We can’t offer much, but we know you could use the job, Miss Biddle. However, we’ll need you to step out while we take a vote.”

“Of course.” Sophie nodded at Mr. Whitworth and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders before making her way toward the entrance.

Gertrude Wringer burst in, flanked by the two women Sophie had seen through the dress shop window. Fury flamed in her eyes as she marched forward like the general at the head of her own miniature army.

“Gertie?” Edmund stood.

Ian shook his head. This time Gertrude brought reinforcements. The tall, angular Millie Wilson, owner of the dress shop, and Etta Stout, a short woman, swathed in clothes too large for her frame, followed close behind her. His jaw tightened. This wasn’t the first time she’d manipulated Edmund to influence a vote of the elder board since Ian had been there. And he’d heard plenty about the fiasco where she’d wanted the name of the church changed to Armstrong Community Church in her father’s “loving memory.”

Though having no personal experience, Ian knew scripture set the standard for marriage. He liked to refer to the book of Ephesians for advice to couples, where it said, “Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband.” Poor mild-mannered Edmund had the greater task in loving such a woman, but the way Gertrude disrespected her husband infuriated Ian.

Gertrude sniffed. “I told you if this process took too long, I would come in to find out just what’s going on.”

“I’m bringing up the questions you asked me to … ” Her husband’s face reddened as his voice trailed off.

“My issue is with everyone else here.” Gertrude stared Ian right in the eye.

The Reverend steeled himself so as not to flinch under her glaring scrutiny.

Elisha spoke up first. “Gertrude, Millie, Etta, this is an elder board meeting. You’re welcome to bring your complaints to us before or after, but you are interrupting right now.”

The obstinate ringleader pointed toward Sophie, who stood at the back of the sanctuary. “The respectable women of this congregation should have something to say about allowing this tawdry woman in our midst.”

Sophie’s mouth hung open. Her eyes widened. Was she hoping to say something?

Ian put up a hand in warning and shook his head, wishing he could tell her he’d handle the confrontation. As if Sophie understood his intentions, she nodded and exited the sanctuary.

“Gertrude is right.” Millie spoke more quietly than Gertrude.

“Absolutely.” Etta pointed her nose in the air, not looking at Ian.

“Speak your piece, and then you’ll need to leave.” Ian stayed behind the pulpit. Elisha stood alongside, shoulder to shoulder.

“Young man—” Gertrude pointed a finger at Ian.

“You will address our pastor as Reverend or be invited to leave!” Elisha’s meaty, work-worn hand struck the pulpit.

“Very well, then.” The haughty woman sniffed. “
Young
Reverend, I will remind you that my father, Hiram Armstrong, was one of the founders of this town. Edmund and I were two of this church’s founding members … ” Her eyes narrowed as she continued her usual litany.

Ian bit his tongue.
Lord, give me compassion for this merciless woman.
He realized she’d fallen from more grandiose circumstances, but didn’t want to let go of her last shred of influence. Still, she was a woman of some means. She had no understanding of Sophie’s situation.

“Furthermore, we need fine upstanding examples for our young people, not someone like that seductress, Sophie Biddle. You saw her flaunting herself in that evening gown, rather than a plain, modest church outfit. And where did a
humble
creature like herself procure such a fancy item?”

“Perhaps if she had better wages she could afford what you believe is a suitable outfit.” Ian gripped the sides of the pulpit with both hands. When Gertrude had walked toward him, he had to resist the impulse to grasp her by the arm and march her out to the street. “Last Sunday, I saw a young lady who wore the nicest clothes she owned and she shared her musical gift to the best of her ability. It’s probably been awhile since she’s lived in as comfortable circumstances as you or I.”

Maybe lumping Gertrude into the social strata of a lowly parson had been the wrong thing to say. Anger flashed in her—what would you call them—mud-brown eyes? She flushed crimson and stood with arms akimbo.

“Unlikely she ever did! I think we all know why, too. Do you really believe that child is that trash’s sister? We haven’t even approved the plans you’ve suggested to the elders for homes for immoral women and illegitimate children, but the lowlife are already infiltrating the town!”

Etta nodded demurely, but Millie spoke up. “And she won’t be allowed to darken the doorway of my fine establishment.”

“Not only that, but I was shocked at the news I heard from Etta, here, that she saw the temptress in Reverend McCormick’s arms, on the street, no less.” Gertrude lifted her head and sniffed again, glancing down on everyone.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Stout knows very well I only kept Miss Biddle from falling into the slush and catching pneumonia. Sophie never meant for that to happen.”

“We’ve heard quite enough. There’s no reason to reject what the young lady or our esteemed pastor said. You can leave now.”
When Elisha became angry, he resembled a wolf, with teeth bared, a whisker-covered chin, and a wild look in his eyes. Ian thanked God for sending the congregation their very own avenging angel.

Gertrude backed down from this formidable figure. “Very well, then. Come along, ladies. Edmund, you know how to vote on this matter. And I’ll be waiting for you at home, so don’t dawdle.”

“Yes, dear.” His head went down like a chastised dog’s.

The elder board discussed the matter awhile longer before they took a vote. Three voted for hiring Miss Biddle permanently and four against.

Elisha leaned forward in his chair. “Gentlemen, I must say that I’m disappointed with this outcome. What goes on in this room should not be influenced by anything but prayer, the leading of the Lord, and a bit of common sense.” Ian saw how the head elder looked straight at Edmund.

“Absolutely,” Dr. Moore said. “We should not allow ourselves to be influenced by idle gossip.”

Edmund Wringer fiddled with his tie and seemed more interested in his shoes. Lawrence Stout tapped his foot on the floor and averted his gaze. Ira Blanding folded his arms across his ample middle while Burt Wilson was the first one to speak up. “Elisha, remember who we have to go home to.”

Lawrence cleared his throat. “Don’t you believe that peace at home is God’s will too?”

The other three naysayers nodded in agreement.

“And helping a talented, but impoverished young woman isn’t?” Elisha shook his head.

They sat in silence a few minutes longer before Ian prayed and they adjourned. He always knew he could count on Elisha and the doctor, but he was truly disillusioned that the elder board he depended on wasn’t made of sterner stuff.

“Is the meeting over, Miss Biddle?” Nora paced outside the front of the church.

Sophie, flustered by Mrs. Wringer’s declaration, felt like a house with a broken window and cold air seeping in. Caira and she hadn’t been in Stone Creek very long, and already someone had attempted to shatter her dreams of a stable life in town. Though the stipend would have been small, she would have been able to buy supplies more easily for her sewing business. Surely she was being punished for her ruse.

“Miss Biddle, are you all right?” Nora’s pale eyes exuded compassion, the opposite of Mrs. Wringer’s feelings toward her.

“I will be.” Could she tell Nora that her aunt was the cause of the misery that threatened to overtake her? “The meeting took a turn I didn’t expect. Please, call me Sophie, Miss Armstrong.” Sophie remembered the Wringer woman’s admonition.

“Only if you call me Nora.” The young woman gave her a genuine smile. “Aunt Gertie can be rather harsh. I-I’m sorry she’s trying to ruin things for you. Perhaps the elders will hold their ground this time.”

Somehow Sophie didn’t feel so hopeful, but her heart warmed toward Nora for trying to make her feel better. The girl wasn’t her enemy, but perhaps a victim of her enemy as well. She wondered about Nora’s dependence on her miserable relatives. “I never meant to take a potential position from you, Nora. I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.” In fact, Sophie didn’t want to fuel any discord in the small town congregation either.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Nora took a step closer. “Aunt Gertie gets her ideas, but I wasn’t promised a thing. Besides, I could learn from you. Your musical talent and ability are beyond mine.”

Once again, Sophie found herself speechless.

The church doors opened. Nora stepped away from Sophie. Three dour-faced women marched out. Gertrude glared at Nora. “Come along, now.”

“Yes, Aunt Gertie.” The subservient tone had returned to her voice. While walking away, Nora looked back and gave a discreet wave over her shoulder as if wanting to say “good-bye.” Still, the woeful look had returned to her eyes.

Sophie pondered what Nora’s life must be like. She had a family and likely a complete education. She probably lived in a comfortable home. But was there any real love or friendship in her life? Sophie felt richer despite her hardships. She wanted to befriend this poor soul, imprisoned by a cross aunt.

Twenty minutes later the church doors squeaked open. Four somber men filed out. None of them looked her way as they passed. Ian stood at the entrance beckoning to her. “Come inside,” he said.

The head elder and Doctor Moore gave her sad smiles.

“Sit down.” Mr. Whitworth motioned toward a pew. He sat down next to her. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to offer you that position right now. Perhaps another time.”

“I’m very sorry about all this, but I would still like you to play for us sometimes.” Ian averted his gaze. She noticed a tick in his jaw.

Could he be annoyed with her? Was there something she’d done? “I see.” Sophie looked away. Though she’d been frightened by their curiosity, she’d been hopeful of this boost to her income … and a chance to play the piano again on a regular basis. She remembered her manners. “Thank you for your time, for at least giving me the chance. If you’ll excuse me, I have evening chores to tend to.”

Her chin went up. She put on the fullest smile she could brave and left the church as quickly as was polite.