The Matrimony Plan. Christine Johnson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ That’s for sore throats.”

      “Pa likes them,” Eloise said weakly.

      After that, the conversation stopped for so long that Felicity thought they’d left. She edged out of the corner and spied the two girls still at the candy counter.

      “You don’t think I’m too young?” Eloise asked again.

      “Not at all,” Sally said flippantly. “Some men like younger women.”

      Felicity rolled her eyes.

      “But my size—”

      “My brother says men like a woman with some meat.”

      Joe Neidecker might like substantial women, but Felicity doubted Gabriel did.

      “Do you think I have a chance?” Eloise whispered.

      Sally’s voice lowered, but Felicity could just make out the last bit. “…the barn after lunch.”

      They were going to the barn? Felicity nearly dropped the book. Eloise wasn’t infatuated with Gabriel. She wanted Robert. Impossible. He would never fall in love with someone like Eloise. She had no breeding or wealth. She brought nothing to a marriage.

      “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Sally said.

      Felicity’s pulse beat faster. Sally didn’t offer her assistance unless she expected to gain something, even from her sidekick. Eloise might think Sally was joining her to help, but in the end, Sally, not Eloise, would have Robert—unless Felicity got there first.

      She snapped the book shut. She couldn’t wait for the Founder’s Day picnic. If she wanted to secure Robert, she had to act now. But how? She couldn’t pester him like Eloise. That was sure to drive the man away. No, she needed a good, logical reason to interrupt his business or he’d only be annoyed. Business. That was it. She set the book back on the shelf.

      “Oh, Felicity,” said Sally, sliding past her, “I didn’t see you. When is the committee meeting?”

      “I’ll contact you,” Felicity said sweetly, as if she hadn’t overheard a thing. “I’m glad you’re helping.”

      “Oh, not me. Eloise is on the committee. I’m far too busy to be on some silly old committee.”

      “It’s hardly silly.” Felicity couldn’t believe she was defending Mother’s pet project. “The new window is important to the church.”

      Sally shrugged. “Everyone knows the only person who really wants it is your mother. That’s why she named you chairwoman.”

      Felicity clenched her fists. “No one supports this community more. Why, if it weren’t for the Kensingtons—”

      “Kensington,” Sally snorted and rolled her eyes at Eloise, who giggled. “I wouldn’t throw that name around so much if I were you.”

      “What do you mean?” Felicity demanded.

      Again, Sally laughed. “Not a thing.” She took Eloise by the arm, and the two girls walked off, whispering to each other.

      Felicity stood dumbfounded before the candy display. People disparaged the Kensington name on occasion, but no one had ever done so to her face.

      “Kin I help you, Ms. Kensington?” Josh Billingsley asked.

      She shook her head. Sally and Eloise’s snide comments didn’t matter. They were just trying to distract her from Robert. Well, they would not succeed. Felicity had one option they didn’t. As committee chairwoman, she could request Robert Blevins’s assistance with the new stained glass window. A man liked nothing better than to demonstrate his skill, and it would give her all the time with him that she needed.

      Gabriel awoke the next morning with a sense of purpose and a stomachache. The former would propel his new sermon for Sunday, assuming he wasn’t fired before then. The latter undoubtedly sprang from that meeting last night.

      After stewing about Kensington’s threat for almost an hour, he’d paid the exorbitant cost to place a long distance telephone call home. Dad could tell him what to do. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad were at the opera, and he could only talk with his sister, Mariah.

      Though she usually made sense of the worst muddles, last night she’d offered no solution.

      “Do what you must, Gabe,” she’d said over the crackling line. “And pray first.”

      Prayer hadn’t brought sleep or a calm stomach, so first thing in the morning he headed to the drugstore for medicine. Before he’d walked a block, the one Ladies’ Aid Society member who hadn’t asked for a favor stopped him. Short and plump, Mrs. Simmons epitomized the loving mother. Her round cheeks glowed, and her blue eyes twinkled merrily.

      “Pastor Meeks. How good to see you.”

      Gabriel greeted her and smiled at her gawky teenage daughter, who hung back holding a basket covered in cheap gingham. He wished he could remember the girl’s name.

      “Anna and I were just on our way to the parsonage with some cinnamon rolls.”

      Anna. That was it. The delicious aroma of fresh bread and cinnamon revived his downtrodden spirit. “For me?”

      Mrs. Simmons smiled broadly, her rosy cheeks round as apples. “You’re looking mighty thin.” She clucked her tongue softly. “No housekeeper or wife to keep meat on those bones. If you’re hiring, my Anna’s a hard worker.”

      The girl kept her face averted, but Gabriel saw her blush.

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “after my sister visits.”

       If he wasn’t fired first.

      “Oh my, you have a sister. Is she younger than you?”

      Mrs. Simmons had such a kindly manner that Gabriel easily confided in her. After a few minutes talking about his older sister, Gabriel saw Blake Kensington drive by. Though the son had proven companionable, any Kensington reminded him that his fate still hung in the balance. The bile rose in his throat.

      “Please excuse me.” He hated cutting off a parishioner, but he couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying when his gut hurt. “Can you tell me where I might buy something for a stomachache?”

      “Mercy me, here I am prattling away when you need medicine. The drugstore’s across the street at the end of this block. You hurry on now, and I’ll leave the rolls on your porch.”

      Though Gabriel insisted he could carry them, she would have none of it. “I’ll send Anna.” And before he could protest further, the girl sped off.

      Mrs. Simmons then motioned him close and whispered, “Be sure to use the front entrance.”

      “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, puzzled, but she only bid him goodbye and headed for the post office.

      What an odd thing to say. Customers never used the back door of СКАЧАТЬ