Just Above a Whisper (34 page)

“You know,” he said slowly. “You might be right.”

“I think they already care for each other and don’t know it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just the way he watches her, and the looks she sometimes gives him.”

Douglas had put the candle back on the table, but Hillary could see that he was still thinking.

“She’s certainly not afraid of him anymore,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

“Why was she afraid?” Hillary asked.

“Oh, just remembering Mr. Zantow. She worried that Conner would be the same way.”

“I think about Mr. Zantow sometimes,” Hillary admitted. “I wonder if at any time he humbled himself before God.”

“I’ve wondered that too. I’ve also been thankful that God is in charge, and I can trust Him for Mr. Zantow’s eternity.”

The two fell silent then—a comfortable silence, one of love and security.

“I’d better let you sleep.” Douglas bent to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight,” Hillary said.

Douglas gave her hand a squeeze before blowing out the candle and making his way from the room.

September was half over, and signs of the harvest began to emerge. Jace was beginning to be very busy on the farm, but Doyle’s words to him on Sunday would not escape his mind. As soon as he could spare a few hours, he went to town. It was Wednesday.

Jace walked into the store, not sure what he would find but surprised to see that Doyle didn’t seem all that pleased with his appearance. Jace didn’t push in—Doyle was waiting on someone—but took a seat by the stove. Having come all the way to town, he was willing to wait.

It took some time, but Doyle eventually joined him.

“You came,” Doyle said.

“Yes, I did. You don’t seem too pleased.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Doyle replied, his face clearly registering his unhappiness.

“What’s going on?” Jace asked, not willing to beat about the bush any longer.

Doyle’s look grew even fiercer, and Jace starting asking himself what he’d done. He kept silent this time, however, and before they could be interrupted, Doyle spoke.

“I don’t want to die.”

“Are you feeling poorly again?” Jace asked.

“No, but I could be. I keep telling Cathy that, but she won’t listen.”

“Is this about Mr. Somer?” Jace asked, having heard the whole story and knowing it must have been unsettling.

“It could have been me!” Doyle snapped in frustration, but before he could continue a woman came in, a little girl at her side.

Jace came to his feet and walked around a bit, asking God to give him words, but it never came to that. Cathy arrived after the woman was done, and Jace remembered Doyle’s reticence to talk in her presence on Sunday. The two men exchanged a look, but only one had a plan. Jace would get Doyle alone this coming Sunday, so the older man felt free to talk. He wasn’t sure how, but he wouldn’t go home until he’d accomplished at least that.

“I want Reese to get some new shoes,” Troy told Conner as they walked to work on Thursday morning. “I was going to work something out when I went to Linden Heights, but it completely slipped my mind.”

“Have you told her you want her to have new shoes?”

“No. I’m trying to think of a subtle way to go about it.”

“Maybe you could give her a little more money when you pay her.”

“I haven’t paid her,” Troy said. “I was going to suggest you give her a little more.”

Conner came to a stop, Troy with him.

“We’ve not paid Reese,” Conner confirmed, his eyes telling of his surprise. “I haven’t even been keeping track of what we owe her, thinking you were taking care of it.”

“I assumed you were.”

Without another word, Conner turned for home, doing sums in his head. His long legs eating the distance, he was stepping back through the front door of the big house in just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t call for Reese but stood still trying to hear her. When the downstairs seemed quiet, he walked halfway up the stairs and heard humming. Going up, he found her dusting in Troy’s bedroom. She had heard steps and was facing the door when he came in, so he didn’t startle her.

“We haven’t paid you.” Conner wasted no time in stating the reason for his surprise return.

Reese had no idea what she was supposed to say to this, so she stood still, the dust rag in hand.

“Were you going to say anything?” Conner asked and immediately wished he could take the words back.

“I just assumed,” Reese began, but Conner’s hand in the air stopped her.

“I apologize. I should not have asked you that. This is not your fault, and Troy and I are sorry to have overlooked this. There is no excuse.”

“It’s all right. Mrs. Greenlowe is very understanding.”

“You can’t even pay your rent,” Conner said, still amazed that this had been missed. Was he a banker or not?

“She won’t throw me out,” Reese assured him, not serious at all, but Conner looked upset. Reese tried to make amends. “It is all right, Mr. Kingsley. Truly. I would have checked with you eventually, I’m sure.”

Conner wanted to argue that there should have been no need to check, but he kept this thought to himself. Instead he decided to go for broke about the shoes.

“There will be extra money because of this error,” Conner began, sounding like the businessman he was.

Reese opened her mouth to protest, but Conner did not let her speak.

“You will use that money for shoes. Troy wants you to have new shoes.”

Reese did not know what she was expecting, but this wasn’t it. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Conner found it amusing.

“Speechless,” he teased her. “I don’t see that too often.”

“Troy wants me to have new shoes?”

“Yes. He didn’t want to offend you but found there is no subtle way to go about it. You do need shoes, don’t you, Reese?”

“Yes, but how did he know?”

“He didn’t say.”

Reese looked thoughtful, not able to remember Troy ever seeing her feet.

“Are we agreed?” Conner checked.

“What exactly am I agreeing to?” Reese asked, mischief rising in her. “To be paid for my work, or to spend the money where I’m told?”

Conner would not back down, but a sparkle lit his own eye when he answered.

“Just this once, you’re agreeing to both.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll tell Troy.”

Reese had to smile. He had figured her out. For some reason, she would stand up to Conner, but not Troy. She couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him.

“Does Doyle Shephard have what you need?” Conner asked.

“Yes. I’ve already seen them,” she admitted quietly. “The black ones are prettier, but the brown ones are sturdy. I’ll get those.”

Conner suddenly wanted her to have both but knew he couldn’t suggest such a thing. It didn’t seem that anyone ever spoiled this woman, and suddenly he wanted to.

“Stop by the bank when you have a chance,” Conner suggested instead, “and pick up your pay. In fact, take some time away from the house today and get your shoes.”

“If I had known you were going to be this bossy,” Reese teased him, “I might not have taken the job.”

Conner laughed a little, taking it in stride but also not wanting to think about what life would be like right now if she hadn’t taken the job.

Fifteen

On Friday the men had eaten dinner and returned to the bank at the normal time. Reese cleaned the kitchen and even readied things for tea, but her mind was on the shopping she needed to do to remedy the low food supply and the cleaning she wanted to get done in the dining room and kitchen. When someone knocked at the front door, it took a moment for her to realize she needed to answer.

The man standing on the porch was a stranger to her, and yet he wasn’t. Reese stared at a smile she knew well, but when he spoke, it was not with the voice she expected.

“You must be Reese Thackery.” He did not whisper. “I’m Dalton Kingsley.”

His hand came out, and Reese shook it before speaking.

“Hello, Mr. Kingsley.”

Reese was opening the door wide when he said, “Please call me Dalton.”

Reese shut the door and watched him look around, his hat and bag still in hand. His head went back so he could view the ceiling and stairway, his mouth smiling as he took in the orthogonal lines of the hall.

“Everything looks great.” He turned back to Reese, still smiling with pleasure. “Troy said you were doing an excellent job.”

“Thank you,” Reese acknowledged quietly, still taking in his presence—not just his appearance at the door, but his size. Were all the men in the family huge? He wasn’t quite as large as Conner, but he was still a big man.

As Reese watched, he moved to the sideboard in the entry hall and studied the oil painting of the man there. The fond smile on his face told Reese that Dalton had known this man.

“Conner and Troy must be at the bank,” Dalton suddenly turned and guessed.

“Yes. They’ve had dinner, but I’d be happy to make you something.”

“I am quite hungry if it’s no bother.”

“Not at all,” Reese said, leaving him in the hallway to make her way back to the kitchen. She didn’t think he would follow, but then she didn’t know about the private conversation he’d had with Troy during his visit back to Linden Heights. Dalton had put his hat and bag down, arriving in the kitchen just a few seconds behind her.

“I feel I need to personally apologize for the bank’s having held your papers.”

Reese was slicing ham but stopped when he made this announcement.

“It’s all right,” Reese said, not sure how to reply. “I was glad when it was all done.”

“I’m sure you were. I hope Conner is paying you well.”

Reese said yes, but the small, breathless laugh that escaped on that word did not get explained. Dalton made a mental note to ask his brother.

“Has Conner told you that you’re taller than our sisters?”

“I didn’t know you had sisters,” Reese told him.

“Four of them, and they’re all quite tall, but no one has you beat.”

Reese smiled and continued adding food to the plate she was fixing. She kept the biscuits and butter separate but soon presented a full plate to Dalton Kingsley.