Authors: Judith Pella
“That is an excellent idea.I know you must have much to do before leaving. Calvin has been busy preparing, as well.”
“I am thankful you can spare your husband for a few days to help me find my way and introduce me around.”
“Well, the crops are in, and he can afford to miss a few days at the sawmill, thanks to God’s blessings. I know he’s looking forward to the trip. He has a brother in Columbia City we don’t often see.”
Zack bid Mrs. Newcomb good afternoon and stepped out onto the porch. He first noted that Maggie was nowhere to be seen. He enjoyed her company and wouldn’t have minded spending a little more time with her. He turned and saw Ellie seated on a rocker at the end of the porch. He had turned quickly enough to catch her gazing at him. Her cheeks grew pink.
“Reverend L ocklin,” she said, acknowledging him, poised despite her discomfiture.
“Hello, Ellie.”
She smiled a greeting and then looked back at her sewing in a way that seemed almost dismissive. But Zack wasn’t one to be easily dismissed. He walked closer to her and leaned against the porch rail in a comfortable manner that indicated he wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.
“Looks like you are enjoying yourself,” he said with a nod toward the sewing.
“Yes, I am.”
“You do very good work,” he said, not letting himself get frustrated with having the entire responsibility for the conversation. “The piece you made for my quilt is truly marvelous.”
Her eyes jerked up. “You remember which one I made?”
He liked that his comment had taken her by surprise. “The one with the house and tree. I n fact, now that I think about it,I believe you made the actual front of your house and that tree yonder.I t’s just like it. Except the dog isn’t in the yard today.”
“Gypsy is off with Dad.”
“You are very talented,” Zack said. “I’ve seen pictures of famous artwork, you know, by people like Michelangelo, Rembrandt, and such. What you do with cloth is art like that.”
“That’s a bit much, Reverend!” Her cheeks turned even more pink.
“I don’t suppose I could get you to call me William?”
“That would not be proper,” she said shortly.
“It’s funny that it is all right for me to call you Ellie, but because I’m’m the minister, you can’t use my given name. That’s a rule I don’t like much.”
“I don’t know what to say, ReverendL ocklin.” She put special emphasis on his title and surname as she spoke them. He thought that if he weren’tL ocklin, if he were just himself, she’d have no problem calling him Zack. But then he had that niggling sense there was more to it than propriety.
“Do you dislike me, Ellie?” he asked suddenly.
“No, of course not! What would give you that idea?”
“Everyone but you seems to go out of their way to be friendly to me.”
“Does everyone
have
to like you?”
“Ah, ha! So you don’t like me?”
“That’s not what I said.I just . . . it’s just that . . . you are . . . I mean—” She broke off, looking more flustered than her mother had when she’d had to slip that tape measure around his waist.
He realized he was enjoying the moment, especially because she was a lot prettier when some of the frost had melted away from her.
“You know, Ellie,” he said with just the right touch of sincerity, “I don’t need everyone to like me, only those who are of admirable quality.I think you are the kind of person whose esteem I would greatly regard.”
“Thank you, Reverend.”
When she said no more, he found he had to initiate conversation once again. “Tell me about what you are making.”
“Oh, it’s nothing special.I don’t even think it has a real name.I t’s just a diamond mosaic. I’ve’ve been working on it for years whenever I have a free moment.”
She turned her work so he could see better. I t was a series of hexagon shapes sewed together so that it did take on the shape of a diamond. There was a darker hexagon in the center surrounded by a number of light-colored hexagons, each one made out of a different print. This was then surrounded by a number of darker hexagons.
“It really does look like a diamond. Did you make up the design yourself?”
“No, it’s an old pattern.I t goes by other names, such as mosaic and honeycomb. My grandma in Deer I sland has a similar quilt that I am copying, except for the colors. Hers is really beautiful, in dark and light blues.” She became surprisingly animated as she talked about her work. “I couldn’t get enough to do just one color, so I have many colors.I trade scraps with other ladies to get a variety and my grandmother lets me raid her scrap box when I visit. I’ve got fifty diamonds done.”
“And they will all be connected together eventually to make a blanket?”
“I’ll connect them with more hexagons, maybe green, but I’m not sure yet.”
“How will you know when to stop?”
She laughed. “Last time Mama looked she thought I had plenty. But then I find another scrap I think would be pretty and decide to make just one more.I t started out as a doll quilt when I was nine. Soon it will generously cover a four-poster.”
“And you never get bored doing it?” This truly amazed Zack. He was never one to stick long with anything, preferring always to move on to something new.
“Well, I have finished other quilts in that time.I’ve’ve got eleven quilts in my hope chest.”
“Eleven quilts? That seems like a lot.”
“They’re not all quilted yet.”
“What are you going to do with so many?”
“Quilts are always needed,” she replied. “Eleven does seem like a lot, but I have one more to go until . . .” She paused, her cheeks pinking once again. “Well, Mama suggested I make twelve.I t was a tradition when she was young for a girl to make twelve quilts for her wedding.” She seemed to get hold of herself and continued. “Anyway, I always seem to return to my hexagons.I don’t know, maybe I ’ll never finish because I so enjoy making them.”
“It seems to indicate an admirable quality in you, like faithfulness or loyalty,” he said.
They were quiet for a few moments. Ellie appeared uncomfortable receiving compliments. Then she went on, “Reverend, I’m glad we’ve had this chance to talk.”
“Then you no longer dislike me?”
“I didn’t dislike you in the first place.” Pausing, she seemed hesitant to continue. She looked at the work in her lap and then finally back up at him. “I have a confession to make.”
“Now, Ellie, you know we’re not papists, and I do not require confession from you,” he responded lightly.
“It’s not that kind of confession . . . not really. But the more I see you and get to know you, the more I feel it is wrong to deceive you.”
Zack squirmed uncomfortably on the rail. This genteel, innocent young woman could hardly have a deceptive bone in her lovely body. He almost wished she did and that she was trying to dupe him in some way. Then he’d feel less guilty about his own dishonesty.
“I can’t imagine you deceiving anyone, Ellie,” he said.
“It isn’t just me, it’s—I’ll make myself very unpopular around here for telling you, but I should tell you, shouldn’t I ? Even if others would be upset.”
“You must follow your conscience.”
“I think it’s the right thing to do.” She let go of her work and clasped her hands together. She still seemed hesitant as she went on. “When we learned we were getting an unmarried minister, well, many of the ladies hoped that he . . . that is, you . . . might look upon one of the unmarried young women in our community in a particularly . . . well, favorable way.”
He tried to look appropriately shocked. “You mean they hoped to win my affections?”
“Yes, with a mind, of course, toward . . .” She sucked in a breath before saying the final word, “ . . . matrimony!”
“They hoped I would choose one of the local women for my wife?”
“Yes, Reverend!” Her pretty features contorted with anguish. “I hope you can forgive them.I believe their hearts were pure in this. Most felt you would eventually marry someone, so why not one of them?”
“Which ladies, might I ask?”
“Well . . .”
“Every unmarried lady in Maintown?”
“Probably in the entire county!”
“Except for you?”
“I . . . well . . .” She wrung her hands and shifted in her chair, rocking faster and faster as she did so. “Perhaps even I for a time.”
“So all you dear Christian women were scheming and plotting after me?”
“Oh, you must think us horrible and evil!”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at her sternly for a moment, just long enough to get the most out of her discomfiture. She probably didn’t deserve him toying with her so, but he sensed she was a bit full of herself and might just need to be cut down a notch or two. Perhaps it was a little payback to all women for those, most recently Darla, who had hurt him.
Finally he laughed, not cruelly but as good-naturedly as he could.
“You are not angry?” she asked.
“Nor am I completely without a clue. We even had a class in seminary about husband-hunting parishioners.”
“A class?” Suddenly she knew he was teasing. “You did not! But I deserve your taunts for having any part in this at all.”
“Maybe you do a little. But at least you eschewed the hunt. Probably because you decided you didn’t like me—”
“I do not dislike you!” she exclaimed.
“You’re sure?” He mocked her, but gently.
“If you keep teasing me,I may change my mind.” She smiled smugly.
He chuckled. “Well said!”
“But, Reverend,” she said, becoming serious again, “what will you do about this situation?”
“I suppose . . . I ’ll let God’s will be done!” Slowly he was learning this religious business. He was pleased with his answer.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ve enjoyed our conversation, Ellie,” he said. “Now I best take my leave so I can prepare for my journey. First,I should like to bid your sister good day, as well.”
“She is in the garden. Go that way to the back of the house.” She lifted a hand to point the way.
Ellie watched the minister walk away. She could not help wondering if there was a connection between his declaration of doing God’s will and then immediately seeking out Maggie.
Could he be sweet on her?
Why not? She was pretty and fun loving. Mama always said that once the boys realized Maggie was a girl, that is, once she let them realize it, they would be after her in droves.
But ReverendLocklin?
Ellie felt a pang in her stomach. Maybe it was jealousy. But it was her own fault. She had given up the . . . what was it? Competition? Anyway, she had backed off by her own will.
Did she now regret it?
ReverendL ocklin was unlike any minister she had ever known. Granted, the ones she had known had all been older family men. ReverendL ocklin—William—was only a few years older than she. He teased her and jested with her. I t was almost as if he was flirting. Oh, surely not! Even young ministers did not flirt! But more unsettling than that—she had enjoyed it. She liked his easy laughter and the glint in his eyes when he made fun of her.
Her stomach had been in terrible flutters throughout their entire conversation.
She was glad he was taking off on his circuit soon, for if not, she’d be tempted to find some excuse to go see him. To present him with another dish of cookies, perhaps, or to loan him a book she enjoyed, or to get more of his clothing for alterations. She would be as shameless as Mabel and I ris and even Maggie.
She considered the minister’s words: “Let God’s will be done.” That’s what she wanted to do more than anything. But did it mean to hide in a corner and do nothing? That was a question she’d normally ask her pastor, if he hadn’t been the one to prompt it in the first place.
The next Sunday the Sewing Circle met at the schoolhouse.
This time Polly Briggs’s quilt was spread out on the frame. She had finally finished her daughter’s wedding quilt.
“I suppose the arrival of the new pastor spurred me on,” she said.
“So when is the big day?” Mary Renolds asked.
“Claudia has her heart set on the first Sunday in July.”
“That’s just three weeks away.”
“Have you spoken to Reverend L ocklin yet?” asked Emma Jean Stoddard. “He hasn’t mentioned anything about it.”
“I wasn’t sure if I would get everything done in time,” Polly said. “I just finished the quilt, but that wasn’t as important as Claudia’s dress, which she simply couldn’t decide on. We went to St. Helens last week, and she finally chose a pattern and material, but by then the reverend had already departed on his circuit. But I can see no problem. He’ll be here on that Sunday.”
“What’s the dress like, Polly?” Ada asked.
“It is a pattern similar to a gown we saw in
Godey’s
.I t has a fitted bodice that goes a few inches below the waist with twenty crochet-covered buttons down the front. The overskirt drapes across the front, and the underskirt is flounced and shirred—”
“Yes, I believe I saw it, as well, in the magazine,” Mary said. “Very elegant.”
“What material will you use?” Florence Parker asked.
“There wasn’t time to order anything from Portland,” Polly said regretfully, “but the St. Helens mercantile had some lovely lawn.Lace and ribbon will dress it up.”
“I have already purchased several lengths of silk for my daughter’s wedding,” Emma Jean said. “I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”
A few brows arched at this. Most believed Sarah Stoddard would never marry. And the comment didn’t make poor Polly feel any better, either, since her daughter had been engaged six months ago and there should have been plenty of time to order something else. Nevertheless, Ada did not want to mention that she also had stored away enough silk to make a wedding gown for one of her daughters, the first to marry.I t might just bring up the situation with the minister, and Ada didn’t wish to dwell upon it. Ada was disappointed that Ellie seemed to have no interest in the minister. She had done everything she could and certainly couldn’t force Ellie to woo the reverend. But Ada didn’t see why her daughter felt as she did.
Jane Donnelly, in her usually kind way, offered to Polly, “I’m sure the trims will add an elegant touch.” She was always diplomatic.