Second Chance Hero (9 page)

She turned to the gathered choir members. “Most of you have probably already heard about Zella having to go out of town to see to her brother for a while. We're very lucky to have Mr. Cooper to fill in for her. I've already had the pleasure of hearing him play the piano, and I can assure you he is quite talented.”

Then she turned back to him. “Have you met everyone here?”

When he indicated he hadn't, she went around the group, introducing them one at a time. By the time the introductions were done, the last of the choir members had arrived and Verity was ready to begin the practice session.

* * *

Nate was impressed with Mrs. Leggett's leadership qualities. Just as when she took charge of his care right after the accident, she was firm but not bossy, and quick to lend a hand or lend praise where needed.

She had apparently spoken with Reverend Harper earlier about the scripture his sermon would be based on and chose songs that would complement his message. Some of the hymns were unfamiliar to him and he stumbled a bit the first time he played them. But she was as patient and gracious with him as she was with the rest of the choir.

By the time practice was over, he was confident he could play the hymns for the service tomorrow without any trouble.

The choir members began to slowly disperse, leaving in chatty groups of three or four. He saw the dressmaker, Miss Andrews, speak to Mrs. Leggett for a moment, but the widow waved her on and turned in his direction. Was she going to inquire after his health again?

“Thank you again for stepping in today. Your time and talent were greatly appreciated.”

“I don't mind. I actually enjoy playing the piano.”

“It shows in your playing.” She hesitated a moment, then continued. “I don't know if anyone mentioned this to you or not, but I'm going to be working with a group of children to form a choir and present a program at the Founders' Day Festival. Zella was planning to help me, but now that she's unavailable—”

“You need another pianist. Yes, I'm aware, and I'm happy to step in.”

Her relieved smile softened her features. “Oh, thank you. And I promise you won't regret it. Children are such a joy to work with.”

Not ready to see her go yet, he asked the first question that popped into his head. “Do you know yet what kind of program you want to teach them?”

“I have some ideas, but I'm open to other suggestions if you have some to offer.”

“Why don't you tell me what you're thinking first and I'll see if it sparks any ideas.” He slid over on the piano bench. “But first, have a seat. You're making me feel most ungentlemanly.”

She complied, coming around the piano to perch on the opposite end of the bench from him.

He listened to her plans, asking questions and making suggestions. But all the time, a part of him was also aware of her nearness, her contagious enthusiasm.

If it was going to be like this whenever they were together, he was in trouble. He would just have to make certain that they were together only when the choir—either the adult or children's version—were with them. No more of these one-on-one sessions.

“I plan to have practice sessions every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon right after school between now and the festival,” she said. “Will that be a problem for you?”

“I can work with that.”

“This first Tuesday I will mainly be evaluating the children individually to see where they are musically, and to see how well they can understand and follow directions. I won't necessarily need the piano for that, so I suppose if you don't want to come—”

“You're going to have over a dozen kids to work with. You'll need some help. I'll be here.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.” She stood. “Well, I should be getting home so I can check on Joy. Aunt Betty loves her, but that little darling of mine can be a handful sometimes.” She moved away from the bench. “I'll see you at the service tomorrow.”

He stood, as well. “I'll walk you out.” He reached for his cane. As they walked toward the door, she easily matched her steps to his without comment. But when they stepped outside, she paused and turned to him.

“Do you need any assistance with the steps?”

Did she think him such an invalid? “I can manage.”

His tone had come out sharper than he'd intended and he saw her brow go up. “Sorry,” he said, “I'm just used to taking care of myself.”

She gave him an understanding smile. “Well, you're amongst friends now. There's no shame in asking for or accepting help.”

Amongst friends—he liked the sound of that. But could he truly consider himself their friend so long as he kept his history from them?

* * *

Sunday morning, Verity took her place with the rest of the choir at the front of the church. Mr. Cooper was already in place at the piano. Was he nervous? If so, he didn't show it.

The church bell rang, signaling to the latecomers and dawdlers that it was time to come inside and find their seats. Taking his cue as smoothly as Zella ever had, Mr. Cooper began playing an instrumental piece. It wasn't a melody Verity was familiar with, and he seemed to be playing it from memory. There was no hesitation or stumbling. It was lovely.

Later, when the service was over, she approached Mr. Cooper with a smile. She had to wait her turn to speak to him, however, as several members of the congregation came up to compliment him on his playing and thank him for standing in for Zella. It did her heart good to see him receiving such warm acceptance from the folks here—perhaps now he wouldn't feel the need to keep himself so aloof.

When at last he was alone, she stepped up. “It seems as if I'm not the only one who thinks your playing is exceptional.”

He shrugged as he put away the sheet music. “I'm glad the folks in the congregation enjoyed it.”

“Aunt Betty asked me to invite you for lunch.”

He reached for his cane. “That is very kind of your aunt, but I've already made other plans.” He glanced toward the Barrs, and Adam's wife, Reggie, gave him a small wave.

“Oh, I see.” She'd been prepared to counter his I-don't-want-to-be-any-trouble arguments but hadn't even considered that he might have other plans. She also hadn't been prepared for the stab of disappointment. “Well, enjoy your meal.”

She turned, but before she could move away, Joy skipped up to them.

“Hello, Mr. Cooper.”

He gave her a smile. “Hello, Joy. How are you today?”

She noticed that his cool reserve seemed to melt away when speaking to her daughter.

“I'm fine, thank you,” Joy responded. “I like your piano playing.”

“Thank you.”

“How is Beans doing?”

“He's doing just fine. Thank you for asking.” Then he leaned in, as if to relay a confidence. “But I do think he misses seeing you.”

Joy nodded solemnly. “I miss him, too.” Then she gave Nate a this-just-occurred-to-me look. “Maybe I should visit him.”

“Joy!” Verity chided. “It's not polite to invite yourself over to someone else's home.”

Her daughter widened her eyes innocently. “But he said Beans misses me. And I miss him, too.” The child's tone implied that that was reason enough.

Mr. Cooper intervened. “I tell you what. I plan to take Beans for a walk over toward the schoolyard this afternoon. Would you like to come with us?”

“Can I, Mama?”

“May I,” she corrected absently. Was he issuing the invitation more because he felt obligated or was it because he really wanted to? “Oh, pumpkin, I don't know—”

“You are invited, too, of course.”

She looked from Mr. Cooper's impassive face to Joy's pleading one and nodded. “Very well.” If nothing else, this would be a step along the path to getting Mr. Cooper out and about more.

Then she gave her daughter a no-nonsense look. “But only if you take your nap after lunch.”

“I will, I promise.”

Verity turned back to Mr. Cooper. “What time do you plan to take Beans for his walk?”

“Shall we plan to meet in the schoolyard around three o'clock?”

With a nod, Verity took Joy's hand and turned toward the door. She was happy they'd agreed to see each other later, but there was something about the way he'd issued the invitation, something in his tone and carefully schooled expression that made her wonder if he was regretting the invitation even as he was issuing it.

When they stepped outside, she informed Aunt Betty that they would not have a guest for lunch after all, then let Joy go with her and Uncle Grover while she turned to look for Hazel.

She spotted her friend across the churchyard speaking to Belva Ortolon. Belva was relatively new to Turnabout. She'd moved here about four months ago to help her aunt Eunice with the running of the boardinghouse.

When Verity approached, Belva gave her a smile of greeting. “Oh, hi, Verity. I was just telling Hazel how much I enjoyed the music this morning, and she tells me you picked out the hymns.”

“I did.” Verity liked the girl. There was an artlessness about her, an almost tomboyish quality that she found quite engaging.

Belva nodded approval. “‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus' is a favorite of mine, so thank you for selecting it.”

Before Verity could respond, Belva looked past her and straightened. “Oh, there's Mr. Cooper. I need to speak to him about something.”

Surprised, Verity watched Belva approach Mr. Cooper and engage him in animated conversation. The girl seemed to know him rather well. Then Verity corrected herself—not girl, woman. She thought of Belva as a girl because of her youthful demeanor. But in truth she was a young woman of nineteen or twenty. By the time she herself had been that age she'd had a husband and daughter of her own.

Belva's aunt joined the pair just then and, together, the three of them made their way out of the churchyard. It occurred to Verity that Mr. Cooper hadn't actually
said
his lunch plans were with the Barrs. Could he be taking his meal at the boardinghouse with the Ortolon ladies instead?

Not that it was any of her business if he was.

“Mr. Cooper did a fine job playing the piano this morning.”

Verity turned back around to see Hazel eyeing her with an amused glint in her eye.

“That he did.” She fiddled absently with the tie on her bonnet. “He's starting to feel more comfortable with life here in Turnabout, don't you think?”

Hazel nodded. “How could he help
but
like it here?” She cut her eyes toward the man in question, then back to Verity. “And he apparently likes certain people here quite well.” For a moment Verity thought she was referring to Belva. Then Hazel clarified, “I noticed how he watched you during the service this morning.”

Verity waved a hand dismissively. “It's only because I'm choir director. He was taking his cues from me.”

Hazel made a noncommittal sound, then changed the subject. “By the way, have you ever considered making hats to order?”

“I don't know.” From the corner of her eye, she watched the trio make their way as far as Second Street, then they turned the corner and disappeared from view.

But Hazel was eyeing her with a knowing smirk so she quickly pulled her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. “Part of the fun for me in making hats is just going with whatever whimsy my imagination feeds me rather than trying to follow a set pattern or copy something from a picture. Why?”

“Eula Fay stopped by the shop yesterday to order a new dress to wear when she presides over the festival's opening ceremony. She asked if you'd consider making her a hat to match.”

As Mayor Sanders's wife, Eula Fay always liked to look her best when she was attending some sort of official function. “I suppose, if the only parameter I had was that it should match a particular dress, I could do that.”

Hazel nodded. “It would be a guaranteed sale for you. And it could generate some additional orders. You know how Eula Fay is—if she likes something she'll let everyone know.”

“All right, you've convinced me.” Verity hooked her arm through Hazel's and the two started down the sidewalk together. “I'll come by your shop tomorrow and take a look at the fabric and pattern you're using for the dress.”

If she were to ever realize her dream of someday owning a millinery shop, she would definitely have to learn to create hats to order. Might as well start now.

But at the moment her thoughts were not entirely on hats. Part of her mind was focused on the fact that when she and Hazel turned on Second Street, neither Mr. Cooper nor the Ortolon ladies were in sight. Had they separated at Mr. Cooper's shop?

Or had they continued on to the boardinghouse together?

Chapter Nine

N
ate turned onto Schoolhouse Road, Beans trotting at his heels. He wasn't sure why he'd invited Mrs. Leggett and her daughter to join him, especially after he'd promised himself to minimize his contact with her. He was already pushing matters by working with the choir and now with her children's program.

He could tell himself he'd only intended to invite Joy, but that would be a lie. He knew good and well inviting Joy would also mean he was inviting Joy's mother.

Beans's sudden yip brought him back to the present. The dog bounded away from him toward the schoolyard. Joy was already there, waiting on him. As was her mother.

Despite his resolve to remain merely polite, his pulse kicked up a notch. Okay, so he was attracted to her. But that didn't mean he had to do anything about it. If there was one thing the past nine years had taught him, it was to curb his impulsiveness. This was just a simple outing to give Joy an opportunity to play with Beans—nothing more.

Of course it was.

By the time he reached the schoolyard proper, Joy and Beans were already playing near the teeter-totter. Mrs. Leggett stood in front of the schoolhouse steps.

“Am I late?” he asked by way of greeting.

She shook her head. “I'm afraid Joy was getting impatient so we came out a bit early.” She waved behind her toward the steps. “Shall we sit?”

He nodded and swept a hand, indicating she should precede him. She took her seat and fussily arranged her skirt, then looked up at him. “Aren't you going to sit, as well?”

Nate shook his head, thinking it best to maintain his distance. “I prefer to stand.”

She frowned. “But your foot—”

“Is getting better every day. And don't worry, I'm not putting much weight on it.” Ready to change the subject, he glanced toward the other members of their party. “It appears Joy and Beans are having a grand time.”

She followed his gaze with her own. “Thank you so much for indulging Joy this way. I know you didn't have to include her in this outing.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable as always with her gratitude. “It's just a walk I was planning to take, anyway.”

“Still, it was a nice thing to do.” She brushed at her skirt. “Did you enjoy your lunch with your friends?”

There was something odd about her tone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Was she upset that he hadn't accepted her invitation? More to the point, how should he respond to her question? He hadn't lied to her earlier, but he'd done his best to mislead her so he could refuse her invitation without hurting her feelings. Truth was, he had eaten alone in his own apartment. He chose his words carefully. “It's always good to spend time with friends.”

She looked at him as if she knew he hadn't really answered her question, but then nodded. “It is.” Then she shifted and sat up straighter. “Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss the children's program in more detail.”

Good, something neutral to discuss. “Of course. What size choir will you have?”

“I'm not certain yet—Janell, the schoolteacher, is going to cast her play tomorrow so she won't know for certain which children will participate in the choir until then. I'm meeting with her and the children at the end of the school day so I can meet them all. But Janell has already told me she anticipates there will be a dozen or so.”

“That's a nice size. I assume they will be of various ages.”

“Yes, including some children who are not yet school-age.” She waved toward her daughter. “Joy for one. And at least two other children about her age—maybe three.”

“Won't that be challenging?”

She grinned, not at all daunted. “Indeed it will.” Then she raised her brow. “Does that make you want to back out?”

“Not at all.” Truth be told, he was actually looking forward to it. “So how many songs will be on the program and how long do we have to put it all together?”

“I think three songs will make for a good program. And we have three weeks.”

It seemed she wasn't afraid of a challenge. Of course, if anyone could pull this off, it was her. “So yesterday when we talked about this we decided the songs needed to be simple enough for four-and five-year-olds to learn, but interesting enough for the older children to not feel like it's beneath them. Did you come up with any songs that met those criteria?”

“I thought we'd start with something simple that most of them already know, ‘Jesus Loves Me.' Do you know how to play that?”

“I haven't played it before, but I'm familiar with it. It shouldn't be a problem.”

“Good.” She cut a quick glance toward her daughter, then turned back to him. “Another song I thought of that might work with this group is ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.' I know it's very simple, but if we have them perform it as a round, and add some hand motions with it, the older kids might find it challenging enough to be fun. What do you think?”

He nodded. “I think it will work. And since that one doesn't require a piano, I can help you with the rounds.”

She nodded absently, her mind already seeming to move ahead. “I still need to figure out a third song. You don't have any suggestions by any chance?”

Nate hesitated. Then he decided that since she'd asked his opinion, that's what she'd get. “How about ‘Down in the Valley to Pray'? It's easily divided into parts and simple enough for a children's choir. It can also be done a cappella.”

A small frown line appeared between her eyes and he thought for a moment she was trying to find a polite way to tell him no. Then she lifted a hand, palm upward. “I'm afraid I don't know that one. Can you sing it for me?”

Sing it? On his own? That was definitely not something he was comfortable doing. “If you're not familiar with it, then perhaps we should go with something else.”

“Oh, but you made it sound so intriguing. And I always love learning new songs.” Then she tilted her head and gave him that challenging grin he found so irresistible. “You're not
afraid
to sing it, are you?”

“Afraid? No.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “I just know my own limitations and don't want to assault your ears with my braying.”

She cast a watchful eye Joy's way again, then waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I've heard you sing in church, remember? And I expect you to set a good example for the children. So you might as well get used to singing out with confidence.”

He frowned and slid his fingers through his hair. Then, deciding he wasn't going to be able to get out of this, he gave in and sang the first verse and the chorus. When he was finished, he rubbed the back of his neck. He'd never done that before, sang solo for someone, not even Susanna. It made him feel more vulnerable, more exposed, than he liked.

But Mrs. Leggett was beaming at him approvingly. “What a lovely song!” She placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you so much for sharing it with me.”

Everything inside him seemed to still for a heartbeat, as if wanting to soak in that unexpected touch. What was it about this woman that affected him so strongly? He fought to keep his expression in check and maintain an easy smile.

But either he failed or she felt something, too, because her expression shifted just the tiniest bit. Her eyes darkened and her breathing seemed to quicken. For a moment it felt as if something flowed between them at that point of contact. Then she abruptly withdrew her hand and the feeling was gone.

Averting her gaze, she called out to her daughter. “Joy, move away from the street.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the little girl responded with a wave. Mrs. Leggett kept her gaze on her daughter until the child had complied, which gave him time to collect himself.

When she turned back to him, her expression was once again serene. Had she felt what he felt?

“Where did you learn that song?” she asked.

In prison from a fellow inmate known only as Preacher.
But he couldn't tell her that. “From an acquaintance. It was his favorite hymn.” Hedging his answers like this felt as bad as lying.

“Well, I can certainly see why. You said it could be divided?”

He nodded. “You just repeat the whole thing four more times, replacing the word
father
in the chorus with
mother
,
brother
,
sister
and
sinner
respectively on each pass.”

“The children are going to love it and so will their parents when they hear it. Thank you so much for singing it for me.”

“Look.” Joy's hail interrupted them. “I've taught Beans a trick.”

Mrs. Leggett rose to go admire Joy and Beans's accomplishment and he slowly followed. Perhaps he should come clean, tell her the whole story of his past. It would solve the problem of her sending those admiring glances his way.

But could he bear to see her look at him with loathing?

* * *

Verity held firmly on to Joy's hand as they made their way to Hazel's dress shop the next morning. She had to admit, knowing she would be passing Mr. Cooper's shop to reach Hazel's added a certain zest to the trip.

Mr. Cooper wasn't out on the sidewalk this morning, but the door to his shop was already open. He looked up from his workbench as they passed, giving them a smile.

Joy tugged on her hand. “Can I go visit Beans?”

“Maybe after we get finished at Miss Hazel's. In the meantime, you can visit with Buttons.”

That seemed to mollify the child and she continued on without further resistance.

“There you are,” Hazel said by way of greeting.

Verity nodded as Joy immediately sought out the feline. “We had a patient at the clinic first thing this morning so I was a little late heading out.” She closed the shop door behind her, unwilling to trust her daughter to remain inside.

“Nothing serious I hope.”

“Turned out to be just a bad case of indigestion.” Verity set her drawstring purse on the counter. “Now, let's see this material you have picked out for Mrs. Sanders's dress.”

Hazel drew out a bolt of a deep orange fabric shot through with delicate stripes of yellow. As she fingered the soft material, Verity felt her mind playing with several possibilities. “You said this is for the festival's opening ceremonies?”

“It is.”

Studying the fabric and thinking of the woman herself, Verity nodded. “I believe I can come up with something that will look fetching and that she'll like. Can you reserve about a half yard of this that I can use for trim?”

“Of course.”

“And if you have some netting in this shade of yellow, I'll need some of it, as well.”

“Just let me know what else you'll be needing and I'll get it gathered up. And of course I'll bill Eula Fay for it.”

“I'll stop by her place and discuss some ideas with her before I get started, but I already have a few thoughts as to what I'd like to do.”

Another customer walked in and Verity stepped back to let Hazel conduct business. But rather than taking her leave, she found herself studying some of the bolts of fabric on display. There was one in particular that caught her eye. It was a muted blue, a hazy-sky kind of color, just the shade she loved. She fingered the fabric and liked the suppleness of it, as well.

“That would look lovely on you.”

Verity dropped the fabric guiltily. Then had second thoughts. “I've been thinking about what you said the other day, and my black dress
is
getting a bit worn. Perhaps a new Sunday dress wouldn't be amiss.”

Hazel's smile widened. “Well, it's about time.” Before Verity could stop her, she grabbed up the bolt and carried it to her worktable. “And I have the perfect pattern in mind.”

“Whoa.” Verity held up a hand. “I said
perhaps
—I haven't made up my mind yet. And this fabric is much too fancy for me. I would need to choose something a bit more conservative.”

“Nonsense. If you've gotten far enough in your thinking to say it out loud, then you're definitely ready. And this fabric is perfect. Now, I insist you let me make this for you.”

“Oh, no, you don't. I can take care of this. Besides, I have another project for you.”

“What's that?”

“The children's choir I'm forming for the Founders' Day Festival, I don't want them or their parents to worry about finding new clothing. I was thinking that if I could provide some smocks for each of them, sort of like short, simple choir robes, that might sort of even things out for everyone.”

“Of course. I can get a bolt of simple, inexpensive fabric and whip something like that up in no time.”

“Actually, I thought we might get some of the members of the Ladies Auxiliary to help with the stitching if you can do the cutting and oversee their work. I know Aunt Betty was asking how she might help, and I'm sure there are other ladies who feel the same way.”

Hazel grinned. “Even better.”

“Good. I'll ask Aunt Betty to round up some volunteers and report to you.” She retrieved her purse. “I'll find out which children will be involved this afternoon so I can give you a head count and rough sizes after that. And of course I'll pay for the fabric.”

Hazel waved that offer aside. “Don't worry about that. I can cover it, especially since I won't be doing all the sewing.” She put a finger to her chin. “Now, about this new dress of yours?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Don't think about it too long. I'm going to set this fabric behind the counter for you so it will be there whenever you get ready.”

Verity tried to tell her friend not to bother but finally gave up. Whenever Hazel got something in her head, it was difficult to dissuade her. “Come along, Joy. Time to go. Tell Buttons and Miss Hazel goodbye.”

Joy popped up and said her goodbyes. Then she took hold of Verity's hand. “Can we go see Beans now?”