Chapter 15
Chapter
“Are you taking food over to the jailhouse again tonight?” Luella glanced up from the large stockpot of vegetable soup she was stirring, her innocent gaze making Noreen squirm.
Last week, Noreen had made arrangements with Mrs. Winslow to come in on her Wednesdays off to work an unpaid two-hour shift of dish duty after the lunch crowd left in exchange for using the old stove in the corner of the hotel kitchen to provide a meal for local law enforcement.
Of course, that was before she and James had their falling out on Sunday.
The deputy would likely prefer to eat his own cooking over having to share her company again.
Fine by her.
She had enough men in her life trying to tell her what to do and how to act.
She didn’t need James Paxton joining that club.
So what if she wasn’t as spiritually altruistic as the oh-so-perfect deputy?
King David himself had called curses down on his enemies.
She’d marked several passages in the Psalms as proof once she’d returned to her boardinghouse Sunday night.
If a man after God’s own heart could wish ill upon his enemies, surely the Lord would understand a slight lack of charity on her part when it came to Milton Taggert.
“Miss Noreen?” Luella set her wooden spoon aside and walked over to where Noreen was drying a roasting pan. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes. Sorry.” She tossed her drying towel on top of the counter and expelled a deflating sigh as she turned to face her friend. “The truth is, I’m not sure of the answer.”
Luella quirked a brow. “Really? It wasn’t a very hard question.”
“You wouldn’t think so, would you?” Noreen shrugged. “Unfortunately, it became rather complicated when Deputy Paxton and I had a difference of opinion the last time I took him supper.”
The girl’s eyes lit with interest as she backed toward the stove and the soup she was supposed to be tending. “What happened?”
What happened was that the man had butted into her business and offered unneeded and unwanted advice.
Although, to be fair, his advice up until that point had been insightful and beneficial.
In fact, she’d chosen not to mention the incident at all at yesterday’s tea with Jane and Martha, certain her friends would have taken James’s side.
Especially Jane. She was always so eager to forgive everyone and see their potential for good.
She would have encouraged her to pray for Taggert, too, and Noreen hadn’t wanted a repeat of that particular suggestion.
Martha probably would have avoided the prayer controversy, but she would have pointed out Noreen’s defensive attitude.
Storming out had not been her finest moment.
She’d admitted that much to herself the next day after she’d had a chance to cool down.
But so many emotions had rushed to the surface when James brought up Taggert, she’d doubted her ability to keep them contained.
So she’d chosen escape. Better than losing her temper, or worse, crying.
“Gracious, Miss Noreen. Are you gonna leave me in suspense?”
“Sorry.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately.
“There’s not much to tell. Deputy Paxton offered to help me plan my temperance rally, but the conversation veered into a more personal realm, and a disagreement arose.
I’m afraid I got a bit huffy with him. I’m pretty sure he’d rather not be forced to share my company again.
Yet the fact that I agreed to bring him dinner two nights a week in exchange for his help still stands. Hence my quandary.”
“Wait a minute.” Luella stopped stirring again and nearly dropped her spoon into the pot. “You and Deputy Paxton had a personal conversation?” Her gaze widened with a strange mixture of intrigue and horror. “Is he courtin’ you? I thought you were gonna be a spinster with the rest of us.”
Heat suffused Noreen’s face. “Heavens, no. The deputy is not courting me. We are merely friends. Or we were before I ran out on him.” At least she’d thought they’d been friends. He probably regretted opening that particular door now that she’d slammed it in his face.
Why did he have to bring up Taggert? Everything had been going so nicely until that point.
Luella cocked a brow. “Are you sure you two aren’t courtin’?
You are blushing an awful lot over a friend.
Mary Sue Crowther said you’d set your cap for him and were using your cooking skills to try to reel him in.
That’s why you’ve been visiting the jailhouse so often.
I told her you were just doing the man a kind turn as an act of good citizenship, but I’m starting to think Mary Sue might have the right idea. ”
“Mary Sue needs to mind her own business,” Noreen grumbled.
Good grief. Was she really the topic of schoolyard gossip?
“Deputy Paxton is concerned with keeping the town safe, and since political rallies can bring out strong reactions in people, he wanted to advise me on taking precautionary measures to ensure a peaceful protest. That is all.”
“Do you think the society will support your bid for a temperance rally?” Luella resumed her soup stirring, setting aside her courtship inquisition for the moment.
“I hope so. Martha and Jane have promised their support.”
They’d spent nearly all of their teatime yesterday coaching Noreen on how to present her petition to the other spinsters in a sympathetic manner.
A strategy that included toning down her normal fire-and-brimstone style.
She much preferred denouncing strong drink, enumerating the dangers it posed to families and communities, and challenging God-fearing folk to take a stand.
Such tactics allowed her to feel strong and righteous as opposed to the plan Jane and Martha concocted that emphasized making herself vulnerable by sharing her story and relinquishing control of the outcome to the ladies of the society.
She hated feeling weak. Out of control. It reminded her too much of the girl she’d worked so hard to leave behind.
The girl who’d cowered in corners, struggling with all her might not to believe that she was as worthless as her father’s shouting voice claimed.
A voice she still heard inside her head on occasion.
A much sweeter voice pulled her from her musings this time, though.
“You have my support, too, Miss Noreen.” Luella’s eyes glowed with friendly fervor. “I know I’m not an official member of the spinster society, and I can’t vote or anything, but I can pray for you.” She lifted her chin. “More than that, I can march with you.”
All concerns about her presentation to the society fled in the face of Luella’s selfless loyalty. Noreen crossed to the stove in two strides, flung her arms around Luella, and hugged her tight. “You are the dearest girl.”
“Miss Noreen.” Luella chuckled. “The soup!”
Freeing the girl’s arms, Noreen stepped back. “If the temperance movement had a dozen supporters as brave as you, we could make real change in this town.”
Luella’s shy smile went straight to Noreen’s heart.
This girl was so hungry to belong and to make her world better.
Just as Noreen had been at that age. But there was a key difference.
Noreen’s father had already been out of the picture by then.
Luella’s father, on the other hand, was very much alive and in a position to retaliate against a daughter who denounced a way of life he embraced.
“Nothing would please me more than to have you march at my side, Lu, but I don’t want you to do anything that might cause trouble at home.”
Luella’s eyes glistened with tears, yet an undeniable determination glowed beneath the gathering moisture.
“I want to march with you, Miss Noreen. Because you’re my friend, but also because I know how important this cause is.
Not just for the people who are hurt by those who drink, but for the drinkers themselves.
I love my father, and it breaks my heart to see what the liquor is doing to him.
It controls him. Cripples him. I’m afraid that one day it will kill him.
” She rubbed her eye with the back of one hand.
“He’ll never get better until he puts down the bottle for good.
I want to help him do that. Even if it makes him angry. He’s worth the risk.”
Noreen blinked away the image that sprang to mind of her own father lying on the cold ground of the barn floor.
Not moving. Regret choked her. How many things would she change if she could go back in time?
Could she have helped her father turn away from strong drink, helped him find his way back from the abyss?
No. She’d not tear open old wounds with pointless what-if games.
She’d been a child. Her father had made his choices and paid the consequences.
Yet Luella’s situation was different. Luella was different.
She was nearly a woman. A woman with her own mind, her own ability to choose her life path.
How could Noreen consider herself a proponent of women’s suffrage and not respect another woman’s right to make her own decisions?
“All right. If the society approves the march, you can join. But why don’t you ask your mother if you can stay with me that night?
You can meet back up with your family at church on Sunday.
” Best to keep her away from her father in case his temper flared over her involvement with the rally.
Hopefully, his ire would cool overnight and lower the risk of him striking out at her.
Luella’s eyes brightened. “Could we make shortbread cookies and dunk them in hot cocoa?”
Noreen laughed. “Absolutely!”
Luella might be on the cusp of womanhood, but there were some delights that could never be outgrown.
“Luella Templeton! You better not let that soup scorch.” Mrs. Winslow came in from the larder carrying a large crate overflowing with carrots in want of peeling, chopping, and glazing for tonight’s dinner.
“No, ma’am.” Luella straightened and increased her stirring speed.
“And you,” the head cook said with a jerk of her chin in Noreen’s direction. “I agreed to let you come in to use the old stove, not to distract my other staff. I’ll thank you to keep your conversation to yourself.”
“Yes, Mrs. Winslow.” Noreen dipped her head. “I’ll just put these dishes away and banish myself to the corner.”
“See that you do.” She pivoted to address the young woman who’d followed her in from the larder.
“Nellie, get those potatoes peeled, chopped, and in a pot of water,” she said with a nod toward the sack of potatoes cradled in the girl’s arms, “then start in on these carrots. I’ve got to season and tenderize the beefsteak and check on the pork roast.”
Noreen shot a smile at Luella, then busied herself with putting away the dishes she’d finished drying.
Activity in the kitchen would only increase from now through dinner service so there’d be no more opportunities to talk.
Yet as she moved to where the old stove stood in the back corner and contemplated the basket of groceries she’d brought with her, Noreen still didn’t have an answer for Luella’s original question.
Was she taking a meal to James tonight, or wasn’t she?