The Preacher's Wife. Cheryl St.John

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СКАЧАТЬ and do needlepoint.”

      He shook his head. “You deserve a family, Josie.”

      “I guess if I was to have one, God would have given one to me by now,” she answered matter-of-factly.

      She walked the few blocks toward her home, enjoying the setting sun and the pleasant summer scent of freshly cut grass from the lot beside Mrs. Wilbur’s property.

      The Iverson children, along with a couple other neighborhood youngsters, were playing in the yard beside hers as she passed.

      “Gretchen! James! Time to come in!” Alice Iverson called from her front steps. She noticed Josie and waved. “How’s the reverend?”

      “Doing well,” she called back. “And the interim preacher arrived today.”

      “I’ll be looking forward to Sunday.” Alice ushered her two up the painted porch stairs, and the neighbor children scampered home.

      Josie observed the Iversons’ movements through the lace curtains of their well-lit dining room windows for a moment before catching herself staring. She turned away to hurry along her own walk and to climb the wooden stairs to the dark and silent two-story house she had once shared with her husband.

      After turning her key in the lock, she paused momentarily before pushing open the door.

      You deserve a family, Josie. Reverend Martin’s words echoed in her mind like footsteps in a barren house. She’d certainly wanted a family her whole life. She’d thought marrying Bram would fulfill her dream, but it wasn’t meant to be.

      She entered the waiting silence.

      After locking the door behind her, she made her way past the open stairway to the kitchen, where she lit a lamp and put a kettle of water on the stove.

      The clock in the parlor chimed the hour and the melodious sound reverberated throughout the rooms. Josie steeped tea and carried a cup with her as she wandered the main floor, ending up in the dining room.

      She could probably polish the silver tomorrow. She had invited the ladies to hold their quilting session here later in the week, so she had tablecloths to iron and a luncheon to plan. She stood in the darkened room, sipping from her cup, idly thinking about the menu. Her gaze wandered to the triple windows and the lights on in the house next door.

      Her dining room faced the Iversons’, and by inching aside the curtain, she could observe the family sitting around the table. Karl Iverson was reading aloud while Alice and the two children sat nearby. Alice held something that looked like an embroidery hoop. Before long, she set down her handiwork, and the four of them bowed their heads.

      Josie wished she could hear their prayer. She wondered what their needs were. Perhaps they were all prayers of thanksgiving for their health and family. She let the curtain drop back into place. She had as much to be thankful for as the Iversons. She was healthy. Between inheritances from her father and her late husband, she owned a house, half of a newspaper, and had a generous monthly income. God provided her daily needs plus a whole lot more.

      “Thank You, Lord, that You meet all my needs,” she said with heartfelt gratitude.

      Her thoughts traveled to the Hart family, to those lovely young ladies and the loss and hardships they’d suffered. That day their eyes had spoken of their grief more clearly than any words could have. Reverend Hart possessed a quiet strength. She sensed purpose and dignity in his movements and his words. Something about him kindled suppressed emotions deep inside her. His wife must have been a special person. What a shame those girls wouldn’t have their mother as they grew up.

      As she rinsed her cup and dried the kettle, she prayed for the Hart family, asking God to comfort them and give them strength and peace.

      The house had grown dark, so she lit an oil lamp and carried it to the washroom behind the kitchen, where she bathed and changed into her nightclothes before climbing the stairs to her room.

      Since Bram’s death, she’d chosen to sleep in a different bedroom than the one she’d shared with him. She’d felt thoroughly alone, and had been compelled to make changes. Margaretta had thrown a conniption when Josie had given all of his belongings to the Lydia Closet at church.

      “Bram’s barely cold in his grave, and you’re erasing him from your life,” she’d accused in a hurt tone.

      It had been six months after Bram’s death, and Josie had been at a place where she needed to do something to move on. She didn’t want to grow old and lonely without making an effort to have a fulfilling life. At the time, Josie had known it would be a waste of breath to share her feelings with Margaretta. “I miss him, too, but someone might as well have use of perfectly good clothing,” she’d told her.

      “You might afford my son the dignity of preserving his memory.”

      “I’ve kept his watch and wedding ring and his Bible,” she replied. “I have the entire house by which to remember him.”

      “No doubt you’ll change that now, too.” The woman had taken several items of clothing from the stacks and turned her back on Josie.

      It was her house, Josie had thought all along. She could do with it as she pleased. But she liked it fine just the way it was. She’d selected the furnishings and the decor, so of course it suited her.

      No, there was only one thing wrong with the house…. Only one thing that she would change if she had the power. It was painfully, glaringly empty.

      

      After Sam sorted through the contents of the wagon to find the things his daughters needed for the night, he brought in the copper tub, heated water and sat with Henry in the parlor while the girls helped each other bathe.

      “I’m thinking I need to spend another night with the wagon,” he told the other man. “I’m too tired to haul more water for a bath, so I’ll get one in town tomorrow.”

      “You need a solid rest before you push on to Colorado,” Henry told him.

      Sam agreed with a nod. “I want to hear about your church. About the people. You probably have a list of things you need done. I suppose there are visits to make.”

      “As one of your first duties, I’d appreciate it if you could call on the Widow Harper. Each spring a few of the men till and plant a garden for her. She’s not a sociable woman, doesn’t join the other ladies in their activities or come to any gatherings except Sunday-morning service. I think I’m the only one who ever goes to visit her, and it’s been a while.”

      “After my chores in town are accomplished tomorrow, and I’ve had a bath and haircut, I’ll be glad to call on her. Shall I take my daughters with me?”

      “You do as you’re led,” Henry replied. “But if you’re concerned they might be underfoot here, don’t give it another thought. I won’t mind their company. In fact, they might give Josie a break as my companion. She’s probably seen enough of this house and my face.”

      “I’ll give them the option,” Sam decided. “They have their studies, and I don’t want them to have fallen behind in their schooling by the time we reach Colorado.”

      “They seem like bright young ladies,” Henry observed. “I’m СКАЧАТЬ