Chapter 17
Chapter
James shot to his feet the moment Noreen stepped into the room. “Hi. Uh . . .”
He moved toward her, then stopped, not sure of the proper protocol of a social call that fell somewhere between courtship and friendship, where both -ships were navigating rocky shoals thanks to some misdirection by an overzealous captain.
Noreen inched his direction as well, then blurted, “Would you like to take a walk?”
Anything to get him away from the ridiculous maritime analogies swimming through his head. He was a Texan, for pity’s sake. All mental comparisons should involve horses, six-guns, and stampeding cattle.
“A walk sounds right fine.”
He collected his hat from the sofa cushion where he’d left it and gestured for her to lead the way.
She did, not stopping until they were a good twenty yards from the boardinghouse.
At that point, she halted and spun around so fast, he nearly plowed into her front.
Thankfully, he managed to rein in before he trod on her toes.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
Their duet couldn’t have been more synchronized if they’d rehearsed it. They even stepped back in unison, widening the space between them to a distance more conducive to conversation than kissing.
Where in the world had the thought of kissing come from?
Well, he supposed he knew the answer. Male and female lips in close proximity tended to spawn such notions, especially when the female lips belonged to a certain spitfire who had a habit of tugging on his heartstrings.
James ducked his head and gave it a subtle shake, hoping to dislodge the ill-timed idea.
“James, I really am sorry.” Noreen’s voice brought his head up. “And not just about our near collision.” The small, self-deprecating smile that brightened her eyes went straight to his heart.
He’d forgive her just about anything when she looked at him like that.
“You’re not the only one with a sore conscience,” he admitted. “Mine’s been aching all week. I stuck my nose in where I wasn’t invited and overstepped the bounds of our friendship. I’m sorry for upsetting you like I did, and I’m extra sorry if my actions have caused you to want to avoid me.”
She hung her head, hiding her pretty eyes from him.
“I’m the one who got defensive and stormed out.
You didn’t deserve that. You also don’t deserve to go hungry thanks to my reneging on our agreement.
I made beef stew and corn bread, intending to deliver them to you, but I took the coward’s way out and shared them with Mrs. Barker instead. ”
James craned his neck downward, hunting for her eyes. “You know I don’t really care about the food, right?”
Her chin tipped up a notch, a vulnerability in her eyes she usually kept well hidden.
“I won’t lie, I love your cooking, but there’s no need to feel an obligation to feed me. I’m happy to help you with your rally or with anything else, free of charge. No strings or food attached.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “So you’re not angry that I didn’t bring you supper?”
“Not even a little.” He grinned, glad he could put one of her concerns to rest. “In fact, if you haven’t eaten too much already tonight, I’d be happy to treat you to supper at the café.
Seems only fair that I should feed you after you fed me.
Twice. And goodness knows, you don’t want to eat anything I cook up myself. ”
“Dinner? At the café?” Her expression vacillated somewhere between flustered and befuddled.
James started second-guessing his impromptu strategy. “If you’d rather not, I completely understand. We can just take a walk around the block, and I’ll return you to the boardinghouse before—”
“Dinner sounds lovely.” Her posture had straightened while he’d fumbled to provide her a way to turn him down gracefully. The fire he so admired returned to her gaze and had him standing a bit taller, too. “I’m famished.”
His chest expanded, and a smile spread across his face that had nothing to do with placation and everything to do with the joy found in sharing company with a woman he admired.
“Wonderful!” Not sure either one of them was ready for him to offer her his arm, he simply turned in the direction of the town square and held out his palm in invitation. “Shall we?”
She smiled and fell into step at his side, a rather comfortable place for her to be, now that he thought about it.
He turned to her as they strolled past the boardinghouse, hoping to distract her from the nosy landlady peeking through the curtains. “Did I ever tell you about the goat that kept an outlaw from escaping by eating his underpants?”
“What?” The burble of laughter that followed that word was about the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.
Noreen arrived early to the schoolhouse the following evening, nervous about her presentation to the society.
She’d prepared notes, practiced in the confines of her room, and prayed over it during her shift at the hotel, but her stomach remained a ball of knots.
She’d even broached the subject with James last night as he walked her back to the boardinghouse.
He had no idea who she was planning to recruit—not specifically, anyway—but he still offered suggestions for her pitch.
Suggestions that would be quite a challenge to implement.
Like not trying to convince people to see things her way but trying to see things from their perspective and figure out how to align the rally with ideas they already valued.
Hard to do when she was still getting to know her fellow spinsters.
She did recall from their first meeting that several ladies disliked the idea of militant women marching in the streets for the cause of suffrage.
Temperance might be a different cause, but marching would likely still garner disapproval.
She planned to use words like parade instead of march and to emphasize the singing of temperance hymns and the prayer meeting at the conclusion of the event in an effort to downplay any militant imagery.
It might not work, especially since most people viewed her as rather confrontational, but if Jane’s theory proved correct about her personal story softening hearts, she might stand a chance.
Martha glanced up from her teaching desk when Noreen entered the classroom.
“Grading papers?” Noreen asked as she walked down the center aisle, empty student desks on either side.
Visions of her spinster sisters filling those seats populated her mind as she moved. Unfortunately, the imaginary apparitions all wore frowns and censorious scowls. Noreen’s steps slowed as the knots in her belly tightened.
“Going over my geography lesson for tomorrow, actually.” Martha smiled as she closed her notebook and pushed to her feet. “I’m glad you came early. You can see what the room looks like from up here so it won’t feel so strange later.”
Noreen drew to a halt, energy suddenly draining from her limbs. “Is this a fool’s errand, Martha? No one has welcomed my temperance ideas in the past. What if all I manage to do is alienate the very women I hope to call my sisters?”
Martha stepped around her desk and moved to meet Noreen in the aisle. She wrapped her arm around Noreen’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “The Lord knows what is best. For you. For the society. For our community. Leave the outcome in his hands, and he’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Easier said than done,” Noreen murmured.
“True.” Martha laughed softly, then took Noreen’s hand and led her to the head of the class. “I’m better at dispensing advice than applying it to myself.”
They reached the front of the room, and Martha took hold of Noreen’s shoulders as if she were a pupil preparing for a class presentation.
“You are the most fearless person I know, Noreen O’Sullivan.
Just because you are changing tactics and making yourself vulnerable tonight, don’t forget that you’ve been given not a ‘spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’ Strength, heart, and intelligence.
You possess all three. Usually, you let your strength drive your words, but tonight let it drive your faith as your heart and mind shape your message. ”
Noreen pressed her lips together as she struggled to contain her rising emotion.
How many times had she quoted that verse to herself in order to shove aside her concern about what others might think and follow the conviction of her soul?
Yet all this time, she’d only focused on the first gift—the spirit of power.
As if power was the only way to combat fear.
But it wasn’t. Love and a sound mind were equally potent weapons.
Even now, Martha’s loving support was pushing back the insecurities and doubts as she used well-crafted, logical arguments to shore up Noreen’s mind.
“You’re among friends here,” Martha said. “Remember that.”
Noreen nodded as she let that truth sink into her spirit.
She might not be able to control the outcome, but she could trust her friends to have her back.
And more than that, she could trust the one who was in control to guide the outcome in the direction that best fit his purposes.
For as much as she believed in the cause of temperance, she believed in God’s sovereignty more.
Rushing ahead of his timing would only set her mission back, not move it forward.
A hard pill to swallow for someone who had a problem with patience.
But as Jane often said, how could one grow in patience unless the Lord provided opportunities for practice?
She’d never been much good at practice, either.
Noreen reached up and clasped Martha’s hand. “Thank you for being here.”