Beneath the Heavens Page 21

  Will was so immersed in his thoughts that he bumped shoulders with a man as tall as he.

  “Excuse me, I was not watching where I was going,” Will politely said, not wanting to offend—a trait he was trying to work on. The man glanced over and Will saw it was Joseph, Abby’s brother.

  Was Abby with him?

  “Pastor Will, you look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Joseph slapped him on the shoulder as if he were a kid. Will didn’t know if he should be offended or not. He chose to ignore the slap.

  “I do, as a matter of fact. What are you doing in town?”

  Joseph looked around squinting, “Looking for a hat for a young boy.”

  “Michael?” Will guessed. He, like everyone else, had seen the way Joseph looked at Esther. Though everyone smiled and gossiped, no one had the heart to tell him it was futile trying to court her.

  “Yes, Michael! I know the shoe shop and I see places for dresses, fabric, books, and groceries but no hats.”

  Will pointed across the way. “You see that supply store? It has plows, shovels, whips, and hats. That is, I am assuming you are looking for a rancher’s hat, and not one with lace and flowers,” Will teased.

  Joseph grinned. “No, I don’t think Michael would appreciate lace and flowers.”

  They were about to part ways with a nod when Sheriff Ben joined them on the corner. “Good day, gentlemen,” he greeted, nodding at Will and turning to Joseph. “I don’t think we have had the pleasure of officially meeting. I’ve seen you at the Sunday picnics and my wife Lucinda has mentioned seeing you when she takes the children to school.”

  Joseph stuck out his hand and the two men shook firmly, “Joseph Silver, older brother to Abigail.”

  “Ahh yes, our fine school teacher. She is doing wonders. You and your parents should be proud.”

  “That we are, Sheriff,” Joseph said, glancing at the bakery. Will followed his gaze to see Abby emerging next to Eliza. Abby was talking gaily, as usual, and looked especially radiant and fairy-like. Her hair hung in ringlets down her back and her frock was soft, allowing him to make out the form of a lithe and feminine form. He barely heard what Sheriff Ben and Joseph were talking about, something about Rangers and Sheriffs, crime in Texas versus crime in Colorado. A fragment of his brain kept him nodding and making sounds of agreement, but his main attention was on the ethereal girl holding a pastry bigger than her hands. She seemed to be examining it as a scientist would examine a rare species. Eliza was laughing at her. Eliza herself was looking finer and finer by the day. Odd how that could happen to a person.

  “Pastor,” Sheriff said loudly, snapping Will out of his Abby-induced trance.

  “Hmm, sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” Will said weakly.

  The Sheriff glanced across the street at Abby with a superior smirk. “Ahh, I see. You do have a lot on your mind.”

  Joseph smothered a laugh with a cough and Will thought he ought to crack both men’s heads together.

  “Pastor,” Joseph addressed him still grinning, “please tell my sister that I will meet her in the book shop and not the dress shop.”

  Before Will could say yes or no, Joseph excused himself. The Sheriff gave one last chuckle at Will before shaking his head amusingly and walking away.

  /

  “This is amazing!” Abby stared at the wondrous flaky pastry that was stuffed with a sweetened creamy cheese and apricots. “How does he make it so stuffed without breaking the light shell?”

  Eliza shrugged, still feeling flustered as she always did when she was around Kyle Lampton. “I couldn’t say. However, I do need to get back to my shop. Lunch time is over,” Eliza said, thinking about all her beautiful dresses. Kyle had asked her what she would be wearing to the dance with him, and she had not been able to reply. Eliza had never worn an especially pretty dress or done up her hair in a fancy way other than a simple bun. With her looks she felt it would seem ridiculous and desperate if she tried too hard.

  “Oh, your dress shop is so lovely. Such a variety of beautiful and yet wearable clothing,” Abby complimented.

  Eliza gave a slight nod of shy gratitude. “That’s what I try to keep. It’s hard finding a balance between constrictive fashion and wearable clothing. Women out here work hard, but they also want to look pretty.”

  Abby thought of this for a moment. To her, clothes had either been practical or pretty. The two never meshed, but Eliza was right: women out here couldn’t be wearing stiff-necked, thick-laced things, yet most of the women looked lovely and put together, if not fancy.

  “Eliza, would you say most of my clothing is a little, well, suffocating?”

  Eliza snorted. “Miss Abigail, you have some very fine dresses. But most of them do over-shine you. I tell ladies when they come in that they want to be the focus, not the dress. The dress is to emphasize them. I will say though, that you are dressing more and more becomingly.”

  “It’s not like I had much of a choice. All my blouses and dresses are burned or stained due to my failed cooking attempts,” she laughed at herself. “Still, I would like something that made me look especially nice.” She paused thinking of Will, “—for the barn dance, to be precise. Some of my nicest things I have given away to some of the mining mothers who have to travel a bit longer to reach town. Of course, they simplify them.”

  Eliza huffed a laugh, “I’ve noticed some of them looking especially nice. It is amazing how a nice dress can persuade one to do their hair and powder their nose, isn’t it?” Eliza looked at Abby with the same concentrated eye she used for her customers, examining her color, body, features, and general look. Most were surprised that Eliza had an eye for what looked good on a woman, but once they took her advice they fully admitted that she had a gift. “I think I know what I would dress you in. You have time to come by?”

  “Oh yes, I would love your help. I don’t want to go looking like a peacock, which is sometimes my downfall. So yes, I will come by.”

  “All right, Miss Abigail,” Eliza chuckled. “I will be seeing you soon then.”

  Abby nodded, “Oh yes, but in a few minutes most likely. I just don’t want to carry this among all those fine clothes.”

  Eliza laughed, “I appreciate that.” She gave a polite bow of the head and wandered off. Abby decided to find a nice bench and enjoy her pastry; Joseph would need a few things and so she had plenty of time. She was just about to walk over to a nice sunny spot when, to her amazement, she saw Will walking towards her. Her pulse quickened as she frantically tried to compose something witty and amusing to say.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Abigail,” Will took off his hat, thank goodness. She loved his reddish brown, sun-kissed hair, and his taunt muscles didn’t hurt either.

  “Hello, Will,” was all she could manage to say.

  “Your brother told me to tell you that he would meet you in the book shop and not the dress shop.” He eyed the pastry, “Are you going to eat all that?” he asked incredulously.

  Yes, every bite.

  “No!” she answered quickly with a scoff as if the idea was ludicrous…“Only half.”

  Will’s lips curled, seeing right through her blundering lie. “Only half?”

  Abby blushed. “Fine, I was going to eat all of it, but I will have you know that I have not had breakfast and with Joseph, the food flies by. I hardly eat at all these days.”

  Will laughed and motioned for her to walk with him over to a quaint little bench under a small tree. “Abby, I will find it impressive if you can eat all that.”

  “You know I can’t now, because first I will be self-conscious eating it all in front of you, and now I must share so I don’t look like a dominant puppy growling over my share of food,” she said as seriously as she could.

  Will threw his head back with one of his deep rumbling laughs. How Abby loved that laugh, even if it had mocked her so many times. It was rich and full of life and was infectious and now it made her skin tingle. “Abby, my goodness you make me laugh,” he leaned
back still chuckling.

  Abby frowned. She made him laugh? Was that a good thing? Was she special because of it, or did he mean that she made him laugh the way a child might amuse him? Shrugging to herself she gently tore the delectable pastry in half and handed it to him. “You have to eat some so that I can eat my share comfortably.”

  Will shrugged and bit into the pastry. “Well, if it’s to make you more comfortable,” he said with his mouth full.

  She nodded, her nose in the air to emphasize she was right. The pastry was rich and creamy. Kyle Lampton was a downright wizard when it came to baked goods. Abby glanced over at Will, his smooth lips moving gently as he chewed. What would it be like to have those lips on hers? Would it be awkward? Wonderful? Had he kissed many girls before? She herself had shared only a few little kisses in the moonlight, but nothing to gossip about. Will did not seem like the type of man who would do a soft peck. With his temper she imagined his kiss would be like fire, wild and passionate—like in the books she read. Her hopelessly romantic mind pictured herself in a Renaissance dress standing on a cliff looking over the ocean with Will riding up in an open white shirt, a sword at his side and—

  “Abby?” Will asked, noticing a sort of dazed expression on her face.

  Abby flinched. “Oh, I was just thinking about—” she paused, you and me kissing.

  “About what?” he asked curious.

  “Uhh, Thanksgiving,” she blurted, grasping for any previous thought she’d had.

  “Thanksgiving?” Will tilted his head and took another generous bite.

  “Yes. You see, I have been trying to figure out a way to encourage more friendships among the children from the mining community and the children of both the farmers and tradesmen. I thought, considering school will most likely end in December, that we should have a Thanksgiving play.” Abby had actually just fabricated the idea while talking to Will. Now, as the words fell from her mouth, her eyes grew wide: it was actually a great idea. In truth, she had wanted to do something to build better relationships between the children, but nothing had come to mind. Will’s prying into her thoughts was truly heaven sent. She would be putting on a Thanksgiving play.

  “A play?” Will asked with an amused twitch in his lips. “You mean with Pilgrims and Indians?”

  “Pilgrims, Indians, costumes. Esther has been promising to teach me how to sew, and I have so much useless clothing that it would not cost a thing. I could talk to Eliza about playing the piano, Esther could help direct it, and Kyle Lampton could bake pies and cakes.” She began naming various people who could help out in order to make it a great event. She was getting excited. She’d always been one who liked social events but had never thought about organizing one for a good cause.

  A waste of talent, Abby thought to herself. She was going to use the talent she had and put on the perfect Thanksgiving play. The children would love it.

  “I think a Thanksgiving play is a great idea!” Will nodded. “In fact, I’ll help you with it,” he found himself offering even though he had told himself that he should distance himself from Abby until he was sure of her feelings.

  “Really?” Abby clapped her hands. “That would be wonderful! We can practice every day and have the children write their own script as part of their writing curriculum.”

  “Talking about how our country was settled could cover history,” Will offered, starting to share Abby’s excitement.

  “And we could use the number of turkeys and guests for math,” Abby’s voice was several pitches higher and her cheeks glowed with enthusiasm. She stuck out her hand with a grin, “Partners?”

  Will chuckled and took the smooth hand, enveloping it in his own. “Partners.”

  Abby’s skin heated up. Oh, she liked the sound of that. Liked how he said it with a twinkle in his eyes, and loved how his strong hand wrapped around hers like a glove that was too big, but somehow fit just right.

  Please don’t let go, she silently pleaded.

  For a moment Will simply stared at her with an unreadable expression. His lips parted and his gaze dropped to their hands as if he might say something important. A current sparked between them.

  Was he going to kiss her?

  “Why, Pastor Will—is that you?” came a high-pitched voice. Will’s expression fell in disappointment as he looked past Abby to an approaching figure. A curvy young woman with an expensive looking dress and a hat that took up half the street walked towards them. As she approached Abby saw that it was Rachel Nelson, the banker’s daughter. Something told her that this blond showing an abundance of unnecessary bosom, inappropriate and not the fashion, Abby noted, was not a simple acquaintance of Will. She had seen Rachel throw herself at Will every Sunday.

  “Why, Pastor Will! I have been hoping to run into you,” she said with a wide smile that revealed a whole set of straight teeth.

  Will politely stood up. “Good day, Miss Rachel,” he glanced at Abby who also stood up and plastered on a polite smile. “You know the school teacher, Miss Abigail Silver? Miss Abigail this here is Miss Rachel Nelson, the banker’s daughter.” He introduced them with a low voice, not making eye contact with either woman.

  “Oh, the little schoolteacher,” Rachel exclaimed superiorly. “It is a great pleasure to meet you. I see you every Sunday but have never officially been introduced to you.”

  You’ve made no effort to meet me. In fact you’ve avoided it. Abby nodded, “Likewise.”

  “Will often talks about you. He says that you are just too amusing to watch,” she said.

  “Amusing?” Abby looked at Will, her eyebrows knitted together. She felt hurt. It was not unknown to her that she could be bubbly and talkative, but did Will really think of her as an amusing girl and not a woman? Not a woman who was smart and good, who might even make a fine pastor’s wife?

  Will blushed. “I merely said that the first week you were here that is was obvious you had never taught,” he gulped, “but you caught on so quickly.”

  “He did say ‘amusing’ though. Said it was so funny to watch you, and I can see why. You are just so cute, like a little doll.” Rachel giggled.

  Abby was too hurt to be angered by Rachel. She looked down at her pastry. Maybe she was merely viewed as a silly girl and not a woman. She would never be like Esther, maybe not even like her own mother. She would always be the chatty, flighty girl from Texas’ social elite.

  “Anyway, Will, I just wanted to remind you of what time to pick me up for the barn dance next week,” she told him while casting a snake-eyed look at Abby who now felt like a fool.

  “Oh,” Will stammered, “you are still able to go?” he asked, hoping that it would sound as if he had asked her some time back.

  “Well of course, silly. You only just asked me the other day.”

  Abby didn’t want to hear another word. “Excuse me. Miss Rachel it was a pleasure, but I promised Eliza I would be stopping by.” Rachel began to say something, but Abby walked off as quickly as she could, biting her lower lip.

  Don’t you dare cry Abigail Silver. You are stronger than that.

  /

  Michael bounded out of the house when the little white carriage pulled up.

  “Uncle Tim and Aunt Lily are here!” he shouted back at Esther who was pulling pork chops and apples from the oven.

  “Tell them to come in, sweetheart.” She stood up and stretched her back. Aunt Lily and Uncle Tim would be leaving after the Harvest Festival to New Orleans. Esther would be taking over a few patients who needed home visits as well as feeding their beloved cats.

  “Esther, what are you cooking?” Uncle Tim walked briskly into the kitchen, his face lighting up at the sight of apples and pork. “You know I didn’t ask for dinner when I told you we would be stopping by?”

  Esther winked. “Did you already eat dinner?”

  Uncle Tim scoffed, “Of course not…not when I knew there would be a chance you’d be cooking.”

  Esther shook a wooden spoon at him. “You are a cunni
ng one, Uncle.”

  Aunt Lily joined them, her eyes brightening as supper’s aroma washed over her. “Mmm, what a wonderful smell. Too bad they can’t turn pork into a perfume,” she chuckled.

  Michael bounded in and tugged on his uncle’s sleeve. “Do you want to come see my new book?” he asked. Uncle Tim said he would and the two left the kitchen after Uncle Tim sampled a bite.

  Esther shook her head with amusement. Another week had passed. Joseph supposedly had ordered a present for Michael from Denver. The shopkeeper said he would be picking up merchandise in the city and would bring Joseph what he needed, but for a higher cost. Joseph had agreed and then had bought a little picture book for Michael until the better present came. Joseph continued to inquire about Toby. Esther, having learned her lesson, kept the details of Mary and Toby minimal. Michael had received another riding lesson in which Esther found out a little more about Joseph, his likes, dislikes, fun stories about his work, and so on. The poor Ranger had still tried relentlessly to ask Esther about herself, but after the last incident she was very careful to not reveal anything too intimate.

  “What are you thinking, my dear?” Aunt Lily asked as she pulled out the plates to set the table.

  Esther looked up with a small shake of the head. “Oh, just about, um, Michael.”

  Aunt Lily gave her a hard look. “You are a good mother, Esther. I hope you know that.”

  Esther tossed Aunt Lily a grateful look, “I hope so. So often I feel that I fall short.”

  “I have noticed that handsome Ranger being awfully kind to Michael on Sundays. I’ve also noticed he seems mighty attentive to you. Doesn’t even give any of the other sighing females a glance.”

  Esther began vigorously stirring a sauce to drizzle over the pork and apples. “I worry that Joseph thinks there may be a chance for him and me,” she sighed feeling a little sad suddenly, and yet again she found her lips smiling despite herself. When Joseph had showed up for Michael’s riding lesson, he had brought a bouquet of flowers for Esther and she had loved it while also being highly embarrassed and flustered.