Just Above a Whisper (19 page)

Eight

Reese felt her heart pound a little as she opened the side door and let herself inside the big house. She had woken early that morning and memorized a verse from Psalm 18. Two large baskets that had not been fun to carry from Shephard Store were now able to go on the worktable, and Reese realized she’d recited the verse all the way to the house.

With the merciful thou wilt show thyself merciful; with an upright man thou wilt show thyself upright
. Reese repeated the verse one more time before she started to carry items up the small staircase that led directly to the kitchen overhead.

It was a lot of extra steps on this first day. She had not been told to use the side door that led out to the barn and other buildings, but she felt better doing that. The front door did not seem to be the right place for her. Not at this house.

Reese stood for a moment, not sure if anyone was about, and then realized she had no time to spare. She wanted to see to the house and have dinner on the table in less than three hours. It was time to get to work.

“What was he thinking, Troy?” Conner, who was feeling like himself again, asked about Mr. Jenness as he looked at the office setup in the alcove at the bank. Conner, having nothing to hide and enjoying customers, found the arrangement rather cramped and confining.

“Let’s rearrange,” Troy suggested, having wanted to do that on the first day.

“All right.”

“I’ll move the desk; you do the shelves.”

Conner told himself not to laugh, but it didn’t work. This belief that Conner could lift anything was Troy’s continuing joke. And he was a strong man, but bookshelves almost as tall as he was and full of books were certainly beyond his reach.

“Why don’t I move the desk, and you start unloading the books?”

“Always the lackey,” Troy teased, making Conner laugh again.

“Just a minute,” Conner said, suddenly stopping him. “I’m going to check with Mr. Leffler about this.”

“All right.”

“Mr. Leffler,” Conner began when he got to the counter. “We want to rearrange the furniture in the alcove. Is that going to disrupt business for you?”

He was so soft-spoken that Mr. Leffler had to strain upward to hear him. He hoped he caught all the words and said, “Not unless I need to get into the vault and my way is blocked.”

“Are you certain? We can leave it until after hours this evening.”

“It should be fine, Mr. Kingsley. The customers won’t mind.”

“Tell me, Mr. Leffler. Are you free for dinner this noon?”

“I am, sir.”

“Good. You’ll come home with us.”

Troy had come around the bookshelves to hear all of this and immediately offered to head home and tell Reese.

“Or I can go,” Conner realized.

“No, I’ll do it.”

Conner smiled slowly. “You’re getting out of moving things, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” Troy said, but he wasn’t convincing. He exited while the youngest Kingsley was still laughing.

A pork roast stew was bubbling on the stove, rolls were rising nearby, and the pie she’d made the night before at Mrs. Greenlowe’s was ready to be cut. She still had a cheese souffle to bake, vegetables to cut and add to the meat, and butter to dish out, but the meal was shaping up nicely.

Reese had taken out the most lovely dishes to place on the table. She wasted several minutes admiring them before she remembered that the clock was ticking. She’d put the dining room to rights and then started on the rest of the house. The bedrooms were in good order, but the downstairs parlors needed dusting already. It hadn’t rained for more than a week, and the layer of dust on the fine, dark furniture could certainly attest to that.

Things still looked a bit sparse, but Reese had not felt it was her job to decorate. Other than the various Argand lamps, the shelves and tables were still basically bare, and Reese simply hummed along, dusting cloth in hand, her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck so she could bend without getting it in her face. This was how Troy found her.

“How is it going?” he asked when she heard steps and looked to find him in the doorway of the small family parlor at the rear of the house.

“I think it’s going fine. Is there something special you wish me to concentrate on?”

“If that’s dinner I smell cooking in the kitchen, I don’t care about anything else.”

Reese couldn’t help but smile.

“Will it be a problem if there are three of us for dinner?” Troy asked, remembering why he had come.

“Not at all, Mr. Thaden. I’ll set another place. Will you be coming directly at noon?”

“Yes, as soon as we close the bank.”

“I’ll have it on the table.”

“Are you finding everything?” Troy questioned, some urge inside of him wanting to make life a little easier for this woman.

“I think so. If I’ve missed something, I hope you’ll tell me. I didn’t find any clothing to wash.”

“We’ll let you know, all right?”

“Certainly.”

“You can call me Troy,” that man suddenly added, not liking it when she addressed him as Mr. Thaden.

“All right,” Reese agreed, but she looked a bit surprised.

“ ‘Mister’ makes me feel old,” Troy explained, which was only partly true.

“You don’t look old,” Reese told him, her face relaxing.

“I’m a grandfather.”

Reese’s look turned comical.

“You can’t be!”

“Twice over,” Troy added with plenty of grandfatherly pride.

Reese was still looking surprised when Troy smiled at her one more time, waved, and went on his way. Reese went out into the hallway to see him exit through the front door, and in doing so realized the stairs were quite dusty. Not wanting that to be the first thing the men saw when they came home, Reese went to work on those.

She worked along steadily until she came to a portrait on the wall. She thought this might be Nettie Kingsley and wondered exactly how she was related to the Kingsleys who were here in Tucker Mills. When she’d talked to Douglas before services the day before, he’d said that Dalton Kingsley was here. Reese didn’t think that was the name Troy Thaden had used but admitted to being rather unsettled by everything Mr. Thaden had said.

For a moment Reese stood and wondered about it. She thought it uncanny that Douglas knew this family from another town and had ended up living in Tucker Mills. Going back to her humming and dusting, Reese decided to ask Douglas more about it. The story was probably worth hearing.

Reese put the last of the serving dishes on the dining room table and slipped out of sight into the kitchen. Telling herself to relax and breathe normally, she stood and hoped they would come soon. For some reason, she didn’t want to be around when they ate. She thought her cooking would be fine, but for some reason, she felt awkward. A desire to please Mr. Kingsley, a man she hadn’t even met, as well as Troy Thaden, was strong within her.

In the midst of these thoughts, she heard the front door open. She quietly glanced around the kitchen to see if she’d forgotten anything and then slipped down the narrow stairs to the workroom and out the side door. She didn’t want to be in the way right now and had already told Mrs. Greenlowe she would be home for dinner.

She walked away from the house with a sense of accomplishment and excitement. She only hoped they would enjoy the meal.

“Oh, my,” Troy said when he saw the dining room. Reese had not answered his call, but clearly she expected them to eat. The men took seats, all thinking that Reese had outdone herself. Three places were set on one end of the table, and all the dishes were in reach. If the aromas could be trusted, they were in for a treat.

“Will you please pray?” Conner asked Troy when the men had gotten comfortable. Troy obliged.

Mr. Leffler hadn’t expected this, but he didn’t comment or do anything more than bow his head. He didn’t even hear the prayer. He was too busy thinking about Mr. Jenness. Wherever that man had gone, he was certainly missing out. He’d not been a kind employer or a personable banker, but a small portion of Mr. Leffler’s heart was sorry for him.

“I think I want you to check on Mr. Jenness again,” Conner said when they began to eat. “Maybe his wife has heard from him.”

“I’ll go after dinner,” Troy replied but then turned to Mr. Leffler. “Would she hear from him and not tell us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked her to inform me if he was in touch. Would she do that?”

“I think so,” Mr. Leffler said, not wanting to ask what he was thinking. Would Mrs. Jenness protect her husband and help hide him if he’d somehow cheated the bank? Mr. Leffler had not had that many dealings with Mrs. Jenness, but she didn’t seem the type to stick up for her husband. Indeed, they seemed cross with each other every time Mr. Leffler had seen them interact.

Mr. Leffler need not have worried about sharing any more. The other two men had no intention of putting him on the spot, at least not more than they already had. They asked Mr. Leffler to tell them about his family and how he’d come to live in Tucker Mills. The subject of the bank and banking did not come up again.