To Honor and Trust (11 page)

“And you?” Maude arched a brow.

“Yes. He was kind and well-mannered. I liked him very
much. After a few attempts with the club, I finally managed to hit the ball a short distance.” Callie laughed as she recalled how Wes had praised her feeble attempts.

“I'm sorry to hear about the tennis instructor. Now that he knows how you feel, perhaps you'll find him more acceptable next time.”

“I do hope so.” Callie brushed a stray curl off her forehead. “I met a very nice gentleman at the dance last night. He was most refreshing. Unlike most of the men who attend the formal affairs, he wasn't intent upon discussing business or money.” She inhaled a deep breath of the sea air. “I become so weary of the never-ending conversations about money, fashions, and industry, but generally that's all these people want to talk about.”

“There's nothing wrong with money—without it everything ceases to function. It's a necessity in this world we live in. If I was you, I'd be learning everything I could from those rich folks.”

Callie shook her head. “For many years, I lived a somewhat opulent lifestyle. Until my parents went to the mission field, they weren't much different from Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeport. We didn't want for anything. But once they prepared their hearts and minds to preach God's Word, they sold most all of their belongings to help begin their work in Africa.”

Maude lurched forward. “You must be joking with me. What kind of parent does such a thing?”

“Parents who love God and want to serve Him. I was moved by their willingness to make such a sacrifice. Giving up worldly possessions creates a sense of freedom, and if I decide to join my parents in Africa, I intend to sell the house and few possessions my grandmother left me.”

Though she'd always admired her parents' decision and spoke highly of the sacrifice they'd made, Callie had paid a price she didn't mention to others. While her friends in boarding school went home to parents and siblings during holidays and summer vacations, Callie returned to the quiet home of her grandmother. Not that Granny hadn't been wonderful, but it wasn't the same as having her parents. For Callie, everything had changed when her parents departed—like a ship without mooring, she'd been set adrift in uncharted seas.

It wasn't until Matthew stepped into her life that she turned loose of the fear and loneliness. Slowly he'd stripped away her doubts and said he'd love her forever, but apparently she hadn't been enough for him. Late at night when sleep escaped her, she wondered if she would ever be enough for anyone.

Maude reached forward and patted Callie's arm. “No disrespect, Miss Callie, but that's a bit of craziness you're planning. You need to reconsider what you'll be giving up. Think about the fine dresses and lovely parties, the comforts you enjoy every day.”

Lottie hurried toward them and deposited a handful of shells on the blanket before scurrying back to look for more. Callie stared after the child. “I would miss some of the people I'd leave behind, but not the possessions.” She smiled at the older woman. “I would miss you, Maude.”

Maude cackled. “Go on with ya. You don't know nothing about me except that I've been married a couple of times.”

“I much prefer talking to you than listening to which investor wants to merge his company with another. Why don't you tell me more about yourself? I'd very much enjoy learning about your past.”

Maude dipped her hand into the sand and watched as it
sifted between her fingers. “That's what my life's been like. A handful of sand that slipped through my fingers and left me with nothing. I had two husbands; neither was worth his salt. I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I'm better off with them out of my bed and in the ground.”

Callie sputtered. She didn't know how to reply to such a comment. “I see. Well, do go on with your story.”

“My family came from Ireland two generations back. I worked hard to rid myself of my Irish accent, though I can't say I've been completely successful. My mother encouraged us to try to speak better English. She said we'd get a lot further if folks didn't know we was Irish. I didn't understand back then, but I learned she was right. Back when my mother was young, there were lots of people who disliked the Irish and wouldn't give them work. Truth is, there's still lots of folks that don't like us.” She straightened her shoulders and shook her head as if to rid herself of a bad memory.

“But you've overcome all of that and secured excellent employment, Maude.”

“I s'pose you're right, but one position with the Bridgeports doesn't make up for a lifetime of being treated with disrespect.”

Callie frowned. “But you worked for the Winslow family for a number of years.”

“What? Oh yes, the Winslows.” She bobbed her head and stood up. “I think I'll go and see how the girls are doing with the shell collecting.”

Callie watched Maude amble across the hard-packed sand. The woman appeared to be a walking contradiction. On some days her recollections were clear as a bell while at other times, her remembrances seemed quite blurred. How could Maude forget her years of employment with the Winslows?
Surely she didn't believe such a fine family had treated her in a disrespectful manner. Then again, Callie recalled that Mrs. Winslow could be both arrogant and abrupt at times. But for Maude to say such a thing when she knew the Winslow and Bridgeport families were well acquainted was odd. Callie shook her head. One thing was true—Maude Murphy was a strange woman.

“Come along, Thomas, or you'll be late for your tennis lesson.” Callie waited near the front door and smiled when the boy appeared from around the corner with a sandwich in one hand and his tennis racket in the other. “You're hungry already? It hasn't been that long since you ate your lunch.”

“Maude says it's because I'm a growing boy. She says young fellows my age need lots more food than girls.” He chomped another bite from the sandwich and chewed with enthusiasm.

Callie grimaced as he smacked his lips together. “And boys need to chew with their mouths closed, as well.”

Thomas chuckled. “Sorry.” He waved the remainder of the sandwich toward the bicycles sitting alongside the porch. “Ready?”

Though she would have preferred to walk on such a beautiful afternoon, Callie didn't object. If they didn't ride bicycles, they would definitely be late. Truth be told, she longed to send Thomas to the tennis courts by himself. After last week's encounter, she worried she might be required to fend off further advances from Mr. Penniman.

Never before had she encountered such forward behavior from a man. She wanted to believe she'd misjudged him and all would go well today. If not, she might speak to Mrs. Bridgeport and ask to be excluded from her lessons. Surely there was some other youngster who would be willing to take her place and practice with Thomas so that she could avoid Mr. Penniman. Of course, once they returned to Indianapolis, she doubted there would be anyone willing to accommodate the boy's busy schedule. If Lottie was older, she could take lessons and act as her brother's opponent. What was it her grandmother used to repeat when Callie would wish for things to be different?
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, and if turnips were watches, I'd wear one at my side.”
Yes, that was it. She smiled at the remembrance—and the truth of the old rhyme.

She had been employed to teach Thomas and help make his wishes come true. If that included learning to play tennis, she would do so. The boy had pulled several bike lengths ahead of her and was standing waiting beside his bicycle when she arrived. Archie Penniman stood by his side, smiling at her as she applied the brakes and came to a halt.

“I just told Thomas I had begun to worry that you'd forgotten his lesson.” Archie drew near and grasped the handlebars of her bicycle. “Let me put that over here for you.”

She immediately stepped aside. “Thank you, Mr. Penniman.”

“Call me Archie. I dislike formalities and insist that all my students address me by my first name.” He ruffled Thomas's hair. “Right, Thomas?”

Thomas smiled at Mr. Penniman as though the sun rose and set on the man's approval. “Yes, Archie.”

“I'm afraid his parents' wishes must overrule your request, Mr. Penniman.” She turned and looked at Thomas. “You may
address Mr. Penniman as Mr. Archie or Mr. Penniman, but you may not call him Archie. Even though he has given you permission, your parents would not approve.” She smiled at him before returning her attention to the instructor. “I believe Thomas is ready to begin.”

“Have you been practicing at all, Thomas? I don't think I've seen you or your teacher since your last lesson.”

“We haven't been back here, but I've practiced my serve in the backyard by hitting against the storage building out back.” The boy giggled. “I think you'll see that my serve has improved some.” Thomas headed toward the court, his tennis racket in one hand and a ball in the other.

Callie lagged behind, hoping to avoid her lesson, but instead of hurrying to the courts, Mr. Penniman remained near her side.

Archie gestured to a lanky young fellow carrying a racket and approaching the courts from the opposite side. The young man loped toward them. “Thomas, come and meet your partner, Hank.”

Hank's broad smile revealed a row of uneven teeth. “Mornin', Archie. I'm ready whenever—”

“This is Hank McGruder. He works here—helps out with lessons and takes care of keeping the courts in good condition. He's going to work with Thomas while I'm teaching you the basics, isn't that right, Hank?”

Hank nodded and tipped his cap. “Right you are. Do you want me to begin with him now, Archie?”

Before the boy could rush off, Callie grasped his arm. “Perhaps it would be better if Hank instructed me and you helped Thomas. Since his parents want him to excel in the sport, I think he should have the benefit of your training.” She forced a slight smile. “You are, after all, the professional instructor.”

“I am, indeed, but young Thomas needs work on his serve and return. Hank is proficient with both. I think you'll discover he is quite accomplished. In fact, some of the guests request Hank as a partner. And he connects with the younger boys very well and is patient with them.”

The young man beamed as Archie lauded his talents. “I think Thomas and I will get on very well, miss.” He dug the toe of his shoe in the dirt. “And I've never instructed a woman. I don't think I'd be very good at it.”

A feeling of defeat washed over Callie as she released Hank's arm. It appeared Archie had taken great pains to arrange the lessons in a manner that pleased him. She inhaled a deep breath and silently prayed this would go well.

Thomas and Hank had already begun to lob balls back and forth when Callie and Archie stepped to the court next to them. Archie remained at her side. “First let me see how you hold the racket. I need to check your form.” He let his gaze sweep over her. She grasped the racket in her hand, but before she could swing, Archie stepped behind her and, while holding one arm around her waist, placed his hand over hers. “You'll get no power in your swing if you hold the racket that way.”

Callie wrenched away from him and pinned him with a glare. “I do not wish to have you take hold of me in that manner, Mr. Penniman. I'm sure you can find some other method of showing me the proper way to hold a racket.”

Archie chuckled. “I'm just trying to make sure my students get their money's worth. Seems you're one of those gals that's got her laces fastened tighter than a turkey that's been trussed for Thanksgiving dinner. You need to relax and enjoy life a bit, Callie. And I'm just the one who can provide that enjoyment.”

Not wanting to alarm Thomas, Callie withheld her desire
to immediately return home. Every hair on the back of her neck bristled as she stared at him. “Please listen carefully, Mr. Penniman. If you do not cease the unwanted and impolite advances you are directing at me, I will report you to Mr. Bridgeport. I have every confidence that he will not only speak to your supervisor, he will demand that you be terminated from your position as tennis instructor.” Speaking to Mr. Bridgeport would be her last resort, but she hoped the threat would be enough to frighten Archie.

“So you want to play hard to get.” His lips curled in a wolfish grin. “I know how you girls like to play cat and mouse. You want men to chase after you in order to prove we truly desire your company.” He tipped his head forward and lowered his voice. “But unlike a mouse, I know you really want to be caught. Just this once, why don't we set aside the games? I'll agree that you're an enticing little morsel, and you can agree that I am both interesting and appealing. With that out of the way, we can begin to truly enjoy our time together.” He winked. “I'm sure you understand my meaning.”

Unable to restrain herself, Callie clenched her racket and swung. Archie let out a bellowing yelp.

Both Thomas and Hank raced toward them. “Is anyone hurt? What happened?” Hank shouted.

“I was attempting to improve my swing. Unfortunately, Mr. Penniman misunderstood my intent and stepped too close.” Callie directed a furtive smile at Archie and quietly said, “I think the only thing bruised is your ego, isn't that right, Mr. Penniman?”

He gave her a hard look but forced a smile when he turned toward Hank. “I'm fine. Just a whack on the arm. Callie hasn't learned how to control her racket, but I'm going to teach her.”

Callie clenched her jaw. “Not today, Mr. Penniman. I think you should take care of that injury to your arm.” She placed her hand on Thomas's shoulder. “I'm going to come and watch you while Mr. Archie locates some ice for his wounded ego.”

“Huh?” Thomas frowned. “I thought you hit his arm.”

“Right. He'll want to find some ice for his arm.” She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

“Callie, wait!” Archie strode toward her. “I apologize. Please don't report me. I need this job to support my mother.”

“You apologized the last time we met, Mr. Penniman, and yet you were even more ill-mannered today. How can I believe you?”

“I can only give you my word and ask that you give me another chance.”

“I will give the matter further thought, Mr. Penniman, but it is your behavior that has created this situation.”

From his frown, she was certain he'd expected her to immediately capitulate and forgive him. He was a man accustomed to winning his way with a few sweet words. She was a woman who'd heard far too many charming excuses. She would wait and see if Archie's actions matched his words—and then she would make her decision.

Maude had the girls ready and waiting when Thomas and Callie arrived at Fair Haven a short time later.

“Maude fixed my hair, Miss Callie. Do you like it?” Daisy twirled around in front of Callie.

Callie stooped down in front of the child. “It is very nice. You'll be the envy of every little girl at the puppet show this afternoon.”

Lottie frowned at her sister. “I think my hair looks better than hers.”

“You both look lovely, and I'm very pleased you're ready to go. We must hurry or we'll miss the beginning of the show.” She glanced toward the side of the house. “Come along, Thomas. You can leave the bicycles there and put them away when we return.”

Thomas remained beside the bicycles. “Do I have to go? Puppet shows are for babies.”

“Are not!” Lottie shouted.

“Now, now, we're not going to raise our voices, Lottie.” Callie strode to the far side of the porch and leaned over the railing. “I would be grateful if you'd come along. I planned to have you gather ideas about stage construction so you could build a small replica for the girls. I thought it would be fun for them to make up some stories and produce their own shows while we're here.” She straightened her shoulders and glanced toward the girls. “What do you say, Thomas? Will you come along and sketch out some ideas?”

He grinned. “Sure. I didn't know you needed my help.”

Callie withheld a grin. She could always count on Thomas to agree if he thought she was in need of his help. “I'll go upstairs and get my sketchbook, and then we can leave.”

“I'll go and get it. Lottie and Daisy have short legs. I'll catch up to you in no time.” He circled around the porch and was in the house before they'd made it down the front steps.

“Have a good time. I'll want to hear all about it when you return.” Maude stood on the porch and waved as they departed.

As Callie walked with the girls, she pushed aside thoughts of her displeasure with Archie. Some girls probably found him
handsome, but not Callie. His rude behavior made him as unattractive as the overzealous businessmen in the dining hall.

They'd gone only a short distance when Thomas jogged alongside Callie, holding the sketchbook and a pencil. “I told you I'd catch up in no time.”

“I think we're going to have great fun this afternoon. I'm not certain if this will be a puppet show or a marionette show, but I think you'll like either one.”

Lottie tugged on her hand. “What's the difference?”

“To make a puppet move, you put your hand inside and work your fingers around like this.” Callie spread her fingers and pretended that she had slipped a puppet over her hand. “But marionettes have strings that control them, and you must move the proper string to move the character around the stage.”

Daisy wiggled her fingers in several directions. “Puppets would be easier, wouldn't they?”

“Yes, and I'm hoping that after you watch the show, the two of you might want to try a puppet show of your own. We can make up some stories, and we'll try to make some puppets out of old socks and such.”

Thomas tapped the sketchbook. “And after I have a look at the stage that's being used this afternoon, I'm going to see about building one for you.”

The girls' excitement mounted as they entered the clubhouse. For the next hour, the children delighted in the puppet show presented by a small traveling troupe that the recreational director had enlisted. The parents and tutors who had escorted the children gathered at tea tables that had been arranged nearby. Without Mrs. Bridgeport along, Callie was pleased for an opportunity to sit with the group of tutors.

They were exchanging pleasantries when Mrs. Albright, one
of the mothers sitting at an adjacent table, gasped and clasped a hand over the fancy brooch pinned to her gown. “I hadn't heard anything about a robbery. Are you certain, Rose? What was stolen?”