Rumors and Promises (27 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Rouser

BOOK: Rumors and Promises
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“You shouldn’t say that. The elder board wouldn’t have offered you the job if they didn’t think you could do it.” The other girl’s modesty astounded Sophie.

“Well, I might be capable, but that’s a far cry from being the best qualified.” Nora smoothed her azure sateen skirt.

A doorknob squeaked as it turned. The man behind it poked his head out from the study. “Did you call me, Maggie?”

“Yes, you have company.”

Ian exchanged pleasantries with Nora while Maggie readied herself, Philip, and Caira to leave for the day.

“I believe I left the hymnal in the study. We can go over the music I thought appropriate. We’ll see what you think.” He smiled at the stick-thin girl before him. Raking his hand through his hair, he glanced at Sophie.

Nora gave Ian rapt attention as he spoke. She followed close at his heels as he returned to the doorway to his study. “Oh, what a lovely library. You have so many books! And the walnut paneling is so well polished.”

“Maggie keeps the house very well for me.”

“If you ever marry, Reverend, your wife will have a time keeping things as beautifully.” Just then, Nora turned to the side. Sophie saw a blush come to her face as she bowed her head and stepped back. “Oh dear. I probably shouldn’t have said something that familiar, but I do think your sister is a wonderful example. And she is all kindness.”

Ian came back out into the hallway with a hymnal in hand. “That is, if you’re not her little brother.” He chuckled.

Her cringe turned to a slight smile as she lifted her face toward Ian. Although Gertrude claimed that Nora was the perfect example of morals and deportment, she must not treat her as such at home. Why else would she seem to shrink from someone as gentle as Ian?

Before she left, Maggie had parted the hunter green velvet drapes, so that the rays of early spring sunshine, mellowed by intermittent clouds, shone over the tops of the creamy madras curtains, hung halfway down the window. The mahogany of the Bidershem upright sparkled under its subdued glow. Nora sat on the piano bench, facing Sophie rather than the piano.

Sophie wanted to know more about Nora. Something about the other girl’s pale blue eyes and the seriousness of her expression told her that they must have deep hurt in common. Ever since that day she’d comforted her in the gazebo, she could see Nora didn’t live an easy life. “You mentioned missing younger brothers and sisters. Would you care to talk about them?” Sophie took a sip of the tea with honey that Nora had insisted on making for her. The hot liquid soothed her healing throat as it slid down.

“Very much.” Nora gazed off into the distance. “I haven’t been away long, but I miss them already. I’m the oldest of seven.” She paused. “I have a sister, two years younger. Her name is Evelyn. She sings and embroiders beautifully. She calms the most nervous of cows so that they give us milk. My brother, Nicholas, is twelve. He has a way with plants. Papa said he never had such remarkable harvests until Nick was old enough to make quite a contribution. But I’m talking too much.”

“No.” Sophie shook her head. “Please go on.” She swung her feet over toward the floor, pushed herself to a sitting position and leaned forward.

“There’s also David, ten, the twins, John and Mark, who are eight. Those three are full of mischief, and Charity is six. She’s spoiled.” But even as she stated the fact, she laughed.

“Do you mind if I ask how you came to live with your aunt and uncle?”

“My parents don’t have much. My grandparents didn’t approve of Papa marrying my mother. They thought she lacked social status and money. But Papa took what savings he had and put it down on a small farm. Of course, once Mama and Papa started having a family, Grandma and Grandpa broke down and wanted to see their grandchildren. Grandpa would have helped my father find a more acceptable position in Detroit, but by then Papa was determined to stand on his own two feet. In the end, my grandparents left the small remains of their fortune to Aunt Gertrude.” Nora set down
the cup of tea she’d been holding. She smoothed the skirt of her dress and folded her hands together. Her knuckles whitened.

“When Aunt Gertrude found out that the good Lord had gifted me somewhat with musical ability, she insisted that I have a proper education. She paid for that and for a modest but acceptable wardrobe. Since she has no children, my family felt obligated to send me to be a help to her and Uncle Edmund.” Nora paused before she added, “I graduated not quite a year ago, but after several months at home, my parents felt it was time for me to take my place here.”

Sophie could only nod. Nora was honoring her obligation, but it was a shame that she was stuck with such miserable relatives. She picked up her cooled tea and stared into the dark brew. Nora had complied with what her parents expected. She was a kind person. What had the girl done to deserve her current situation? Surely God had nothing to punish her for.

Sophie looked up. “You must miss them very much.”

Nora met her gaze with misty eyes. “Of a certainty. What about you? You must miss your parents.”

“There’s not much to tell. I no longer have my parents … or my brothers.” Information she hadn’t shared with anyone else slipped out. What was she thinking? “Caira and I do our best. We must move on.”

“You’re crying.”

“Am I?” Sophie touched the tears that poured down her cheeks like a leak had sprung in a pipe.

Nora pulled a lacy white handkerchief from a skirt pocket. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. I should have known that it was too painful for you to talk about.”

Sophie took the square of cloth Nora offered and wiped her blurry eyes. “Thank you. It’s not just my family, but I was thinking how lonely you must feel sometimes.”

“You are so kind.” Nora’s eyes were downcast. “I must confess …”

“What?” Sophie worried at Nora’s tone of voice.

“My aunt sent me not only to work on music.” She looked up, silent for a moment. “She wanted me to spy on you, to come back with information.” The thin girl’s cold hands captured Sophie’s and held them. “But I think you are a good person. Only God could gift you to play the piano so beautifully or take as good care of your little sister as though she were your own child. And I see how patient you are with people like Mr. Graemer … and Aunt Gertie.”

Sophie pulled her hands away and stiffened as though afraid their touching would somehow reveal her secrets.

“I especially was hoping you could help me with my music. I have no intention for your harm. I can’t obey such a command.” She stood and went to look out the side window. “If anything, I am ashamed that I didn’t stand up to Aunt Gertrude, but agreed to come here under false pretenses. It was the only way I would be allowed to help you, though. I was worried when I heard you were so ill.”

Sophie’s throat grew tighter. She swallowed, wishing she could tell Nora that she lived a ruse and that her aunt wasn’t far from the truth. How she hated the lie she lived and wished she could confess right there! Had God sent Nora as an example? Sophie’s heart pounded. “I understand,” she choked out. “We all have our downfalls, but we all need friends. If we waited to meet perfect people, we’d always be lonely, wouldn’t we?” Sophie forced a smile through the anxiety. “Would you like to play for me now?”

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” Nora turned to her with eyes wide and brighter than usual. “May I play ‘Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring?’”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Didn’t this prove to Sophie that they were meant to be friends? “Of course.”

She listened from the settee, directing where Nora should pick up the tempo or give more emphasis.

“This piece is sounding much better!” Nora declared. “Your ear is amazing.”

“What is this?” The piano music must have called Ian from his study.

“I’m just helping her a bit.” Sophie nodded toward Nora.

“Most excellent!” Ian sat in the overstuffed armchair and leaned forward, with elbows on knees and hands folded. He listened, making comments when appropriate. “I think you’re quite ready for this Sunday.”

“I’m so thankful for this job. Sometimes I’m able to send some of my stipend to my parents to help with all my little brothers and sisters on the farm.”

Sophie’s heart squeezed with guilt at any thoughts of envy toward Nora she’d ever had. The kindness and generosity of her friend’s soul flourished, even under the most difficult of circumstances. And somehow, with her sewing business, Sophie had been able to put a little by here and there to help grow her nest egg, despite not becoming the church musician.

“This is one of the nicest pianos I’ve ever played. I see it’s a Bidershem.”

“So you appreciate my sister’s fine piano, too. Sophie became quite emotional the first time she played this amazing instrument. Didn’t you?”

Both Ian and Nora turned to look at her as though expecting an answer. Heat spread over her cheeks. She cleared her throat and whispered, “It is indeed a fine instrument.” She pulled her feet up, lying back on the pillow.

Ian stood and walked toward her. “You look flushed again. Is the fever back?”

She closed her eyes as he touched her forehead. The warmth it sent tingling through her rivaled her recent fever. “I’ll be fine.”
If I don’t open my eyes and look into yours.
“Please, go help Nora. I promise I will rest now.”

He pulled his hand away. “All right, then, I suppose we should get to work.”

Ian leaned against the piano. He pointed out any changes he wanted, whether to skip a verse or play the chorus an extra time. Sophie watched them through half-closed eyes, pretending to sleep. Their chattering sounded comfortable. Ian chuckled.

Other than the day he came home from Detroit, swept her up in his arms, and brought Dr. Moore to her, he’d seemed strangely quiet when they were in a room together. When she caught Ian watching her, she read something in his eyes before his glance darted away … perhaps hurt and curiosity. The same unease didn’t accompany his and Nora’s conversation.

Like a horse bolting free from a pen, an idea struck her. Nora needed the gentle kindness of someone like an Ian McCormick, and Ian needed a girl with a spotless reputation, who could contribute to his ministry. Besides, how could Mrs. Wringer manipulate the elder board or Ian, for that matter, with a gentle buffer like Nora? Perhaps she just needed to stay out of the way so that her kind friend and the man she cared for would discover their need for each other. Though she knew someone like her would never be fit to marry Ian, Sophie’s heart stung at the thought of someone else married to him. But Sophie was growing used to loss and grief. She would survive this, too.

CHAPTER 17

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