At that very moment, Prissy Finkelstein, Sarah Jo Cummings, and Marta Schuller came out of Peter’s bookstore. The women stopped to chat.
“We’re headed to the restaurant to have our lunch,” Prissy announced. “I do believe Charlie Grundy is meeting us there.” She batted her eyelashes and Sarah Jo jabbed her in the ribs.
“He could use a little polish and shine, but we’ll get him cleaned up,” Sarah Jo said.
“And the reverend?” Belinda asked.
“Well, he doesn’t need any cleaning up, that’s sure and certain,” Sarah Jo said with a wink. “He’s so clean that he squeaks when he walks.” She clapped her hands together as laughter peeled forth. “Don’t rightly know if he’s coming to the restaurant today, but there are plenty of other menfolk to catch a woman’s eye, if not. Why, this town is swimming in men!” Her gaze shifted to Peter, who had closed up the bookstore and was heading across the street to the restaurant. Sarah Jo leaned in to whisper, “And I do mean swimming in men!”
“Where is Katie Sue?” Belinda asked, determined to change the direction of the conversation.
“Where she always is,” Prissy said, giggling. “With Bucky Williams. With those two, it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen anything so sweet in all my born days.”
“I’m so glad.” Belinda smiled. Well, at least one of the couples seemed fitted to each other. Perhaps two, if Charlie Grundy managed to bathe or don a fresh shirt.
“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sarah Jo asked. “Business slow at the mercantile, Belinda?”
“Oh, not at all. Corabelle was just...” She clamped a hand over her mouth, not wanting to give away too much without her sister-in-law’s permission.
“You might as well hear our news.” Corabelle turned to the women with a smile.
“Oh, honey!” Sarah Jo practically hollered. “Are you having a little one? When is the baby due?”
Several townspeople stopped and turned their way at this loud proclamation.
“No, no.” James paled as he lowered his voice. “That’s not it.”
Corabelle giggled. “Not at all. I’m opening a shop. A hat shop.” She went on to describe Sonnets and Bonnets in detail, even giving details about some of the hats. At once, the three women began to chime in, each giving her opinion of this venture.
“I want to order seven hats, then,” Sarah Jo announced. “One for every day of the week. I’ll take one in blue, one in green, another in yellow...” She went off on a tangent, talking about the various colors and designs.
When she came up for air, Marta got in a few words. “I could use a sensible hat for walking outdoors. The heat is quite unbearable here.”
“Oh, who cares if it’s practical?” Prissy said, fussing with her bonnet sash. “Just give me a fashionable hat any day. I miss the millineries from home so much. This is a sweet little town, but it’s lacking in so many ways.”
Belinda sighed. “I’m sorry. Are you disappointed?”
“Not disappointed, so much,” Prissy said, tying her sash into a perfectly looped bow. “It will be interesting to see how things change, with so many ladies about.”
James coughed and then shifted his gaze to the barbershop.
“I see, well, I...” Belinda wasn’t sure how to finish her sentence, for while she longed for Poetry to grow in both respectability and numbers, she didn’t want to see it flipped up on its ear. At least not by these three.
“I, myself, have always wanted to open an opera house,” Sarah Jo said. “Where wonderful theatricals could take place. I’m a piano player, you know.”
“Fabulous idea!” Corabelle clapped her hands together. “An opera house! Why, think of the shows we could put on. Of course, we would have to hold auditions, but what fun!” Her cheeks pinked. “I, um...well, I do a little singing, myself. And I daresay my acting skills are something to behold. At least that’s what I’ve been told by my friends in New York.”
“Indeed?” Prissy turned to her, clearly stunned. “Why, I know you won’t believe this, but I was a sponsor at the Grand Opera Society in Kansas City. I can think of nothing finer than to have an opera house. I’m quite skilled at drawing in a crowd.”
“Still, we’ve no building,” Sarah Jo said, looking about. “That could be a problem.”
“A new opera house has gone in over in Terrell,” Belinda shared. “That’s only six miles away. Perhaps you could get involved in their program.”
“Posh! If they can have one, we can, too,” Sarah Jo announced. “I will head up the venture myself—and I’ll get the men-folk behind it.” She winked. “If I know anything, it’s how to rally the men.”
Belinda sighed. This would likely drive the nail in the coffin between the reverend and Sarah Jo. Not that he minded opera houses. No, it wasn’t that. But it was clear that Sarah Jo intended to woo any man who would look her way. Clearly, the pastor would take issue with this.
As Sarah Jo, Corabelle, and Prissy took to jabbering about the opera house idea, James excused himself to head over to the barbershop. Marta, who had remained painfully quiet until now, looked Belinda’s way. “Might I have a moment of your time, please?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes, of course.”
They took a few steps away from the crowd. Marta looked up with tears in her eyes. “Belinda, let me start by saying that I really like this little town. Truly, I do. Even with the heat. It’s as pretty as a picture from a book, especially with so many wildflowers about. And the trees are so very green. Why, the whole place is simply alive with color.”
“I’m thrilled you like it here,” Belinda said. “That makes me very happy.”
“Yes, I love the town, but...” Marta sighed. “I do not, nor do I think I ever could, love Myles Lott.”
“Oh dear.” Belinda gestured to the bench in front of Poetic Notions, and the two took a seat. “Are you quite sure?”
“Quite. I’ve tried. You have no idea how I’ve tried. But I cannot fathom loving him. And that’s not all. I am completely and totally opposed to the way he teaches the children.”
“O–oh?”
“Yes. Are you aware that his teaching methods are outdated?”
“Really? I guess I never thought about it. I was one of his students. He was a bit dull at times, I suppose, but...” Belinda didn’t say any more for fear of tarnishing the man’s good reputation.
Marta leaned in close. “Well, if I had the privilege of teaching at that school, I would rectify the situation at once. You would see. I have a modern way of thinking. He’s quite old-fashioned. And very...male.”
“Well, yes, of course. But I rather thought that would be a good thing,” Belinda teased.
“I haven’t yet made up my mind about a great many things,” Marta said, brushing her hands against her skirt. “Particularly, whether I will stay or go. But I cannot marry Mr. Lott. And I’m counting on you to tell him that. I cannot be persuaded to do it myself.”
Belinda sighed. If I must, I must. She had, after all, stirred up this hornet’s nest. She would have to be the one to deal with any resulting stings. Still, there would be the issue of the money for Marta’s train ticket. Myles had paid for it, in good faith. How would they rectify this situation?
Marta fussed with her collar then turned Belinda’s way. “Don’t fret about the way this turned out. Honestly, I’m trusting the Lord to bring the right man into my life, if indeed that is His plan. I have to wonder if I put the cart ahead of the horse by placing that advertisement in the first place. A good friend talked me into it, but I must admit, I was hesitant. Even more so now that I see how it turned out.” Her lips curled down as she sighed. “Perhaps I can find work as a tutor while here in Poetry.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” Belinda said. “I have it on good authority that my twin brothers are in need of tutoring with their higher mathematics. And the two Donaldson girls have had a terrible time with spelling. Yes, I think this will work nicely.” She wanted
to add, “And perhaps, in doing so, you will learn to like Myles Lott,” but refrained. Still, she would continue to pray in that direction.
Marta offered a smile then joined the others. Minutes later, the women crossed the street to have lunch at Stanzas. Belinda went back to work inside the store and helped Greta and Aunt Hilde move one of the heavier shelves. They were barely halfway into their work when the reverend arrived, looking pale and a bit unnerved. “Belinda, might I have a moment of your time?”
She looked up from the shelf with an apologetic look and he quickly slid into place, moving it for her.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “Now, what can I do for you?”
He gestured to the side of the room and she walked alongside him, away from her aunt and cousin.
“First, let me say that Bucky and Katie Sue have decided to get married at once,” Reverend Billingsley explained with a smile. “This Sunday, in fact.”
“Marvelous!” A rush of joy filled her heart as she thought about their pending wedding. One out of four matches. Not great odds, but at least they weren’t all dismal failures.
“Externally, they are as different as night and day,” the reverend continued, clearly oblivious to her thoughts. “He’s so tall and slender, and she’s so...anyway, they are quite the opposite, one from the other. And yet they are happily matched.” The reverend’s smile quickly faded. “I wish I could say the same about my relationship with Sarah Jo. She is rather...”
“Rough around the edges?”
“To say the least.” He grinned. “Not that I’m opposed to rough around the edges. I rather think I might enjoy the challenge, so long as the woman was the one God had chosen for me. It’s just that she’s quite the opposite of what I envision Him sending my way. I need a woman who is steady. Reliable. Not given to...” He shook his head then gave her a sheepish look.
“It’s all right, Reverend. I understand completely. And if you want me to refund your money...”
“No, no, no.” He put up a hand to stop her from continuing with that train of thought. “I am not saying that. I have never been one to give up. I will give this my best shot. I just wanted you to know what I’m up against so you can add your prayers to mine.”
“I think it’s fairly clear to all of us what you’re up against.” Belinda gave him a wink. “So I will be praying. I promise.”
“Indeed. So shall I.” He took a few steps toward the door then turned back. “Did you hear that she wants to open an opera house? An opera house!”
“Yes.” Belinda nodded. “Are you opposed to the idea?”
“Well...” He paused then shrugged. “I suppose not, in theory. I would imagine folks might come from Wills Point, Royce City, and Terrell. Not sure they’ll venture all the way from Dallas. But it should bring in some revenue, to be sure.” He shook his head. “I somehow imagined that Sarah Jo would put her piano-playing skills to work in the church, not in a theatrical environment.” He shrugged. “Of course, if I marry her, the church will be become a theatrical environment, will it not?” With a sigh, he turned back toward the door.
Belinda tried to return to her work at the register while Greta went to work arranging shelves. However, she found herself distracted, both by Marta’s unhappiness and the reverend’s uncertainty. For the first time, she paused to consider the fact that she had actually caused this dilemma. “It’s my doing.”
“What’s your doing, honey?” Aunt Hilde asked, approaching the register.
“Oh, I, uh...” Belinda sighed. “I think maybe I’ve jumped the gun, to use one of Papa’s expressions.”
“Gotten ahead of the Lord, you mean?”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know. I prayed before sending out those letters. And I know Peter prayed as he wrote the poems. He told me as much. But I never once thought about what might happen if the people weren’t happy with my choices.”
“You are a girl who arranges things,” Aunt Hilde said with a nod. “That’s sure and certain. But arranging lives is a bit more difficult than placing jars on the shelves in the store.”
“George said as much, though not in those exact words.” Belinda paused to think about all this. “I do like to arrange things, but I’m only human. I’m going to make mistakes.”
“Those letters you sent out to the potential brides...” Aunt Hilde’s brow wrinkled. “Do you tell the women that you will cover the cost of their train tickets home if things don’t work out?”
“Yes.”
“Then leave it in the Lord’s hands, child.” Her aunt patted her hand. “These women made the decision to come of their own accord. They were not manipulated, merely presented with an opportunity. I daresay most were wise enough to figure out ahead of time that things might not work to their best advantage, but they were willing to take that risk. And I can’t help but think the Lord has had a hand in all of it. Bringing them here, I mean. It’s not up to you to shoot Cupid’s arrow into anyone’s heart. You simply act as a mediator.”
“True.” Belinda threw her arms around her aunt’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Hilde. You always have such a way of making me feel better.”
“I think we’re more alike than we admit,” Aunt Hilde whispered. “I’ve always been an arranger, myself.” She gave Belinda a wink. “Oh, and by the way, Samuel Bromstead was in the store earlier today. Want to guess who was with him?”
“Really?” Belinda grinned. “The widow Hanson?”
“Yes, and he and Ella looked quite happy to be together. So you see, my dear, many of your instincts are right. Just be careful how you apply them. Otherwise it will be two steps forward, one step back.”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I will move cautiously.”
Over the next couple of hours, Belinda did her best to focus on the customers. Still, she couldn’t help but think about how all of this might end. In many ways, this whole thing felt like a train barreling down the track. Where it landed was anyone’s guess.
***
George spent all afternoon getting the menfolk spiffed up. His shop had never been so full. Turned out every single fellow in town had his eye on one or more of the women who’d arrived last week. And not necessarily the men who were supposed to be interested in them.
He couldn’t help but laugh as he thought about the woeful mismatches. Poor Myles Lott. Everyone in town had already figured out that Marta Schuller didn’t exactly have eyes for him. But what a sad dilemma, to face rejection from your bride-to-be in such a public fashion. Myles had shuffled into the barbershop for a few moments early this morning. After taking a look at the crowd of men, he’d left immediately. Surely he knew that a good many of these rowdy fellas now had their eye on his intended.
The situation with Reverend Billingsley and Sarah Jo Cummings was as humorous as Myles’s story was sad. All morning long the menfolk had speculated about that one, and the chatter continued as George worked through the afternoon.
“I think the reverend will feel compelled to marry her, even if he doesn’t want to,” Charlie Grundy said, as he settled down into a chair for a haircut.
“But how could a man marry a woman he didn’t love?” Old Man Miller asked. “It’s not fair to either party.”
“Indeed.” The word slipped out of George’s mouth, but he realized just how close he’d come to doing that very thing. He didn’t love Corabelle, and yet he’d nearly offered her a ring. Oh, how he thanked the Lord that he hadn’t made that mistake. In so many ways, he felt liberated by his decision not to look for a wife.
Still, there was some fun to looking, as evidenced by these men and the enthusiastic expressions on their faces.
“I think the reverend’s caught between a rock and a hard place,” Peter said, walking in the door.
George turned to smile at his good friend. He’d never quite figured out why Peter Conrad spent so much time at the barbershop. The man’s beard hung to his chest and his hair—what was left of it—he wore long behind his back. Q
uite different from the other men in town, for sure, but no one dared question it. No, everyone loved Peter far too much to quibble about his looks. Or lack thereof.
Peter took a seat and then pulled out a scrap of paper and began to scribble something on it. Another of his many poems, no doubt. He seemed to come up with at least one a day, if not more. With so many incoming brides, his verses were mostly romantic in nature these days.
“That Sarah Jo’s a mighty strong woman,” Peter continued, looking up from his work. “Probably too strong to be the reverend’s wife. She’d be calling all the shots.”
“Wearing the pants in the family, that’s for sure,” Charlie added.
“I don’t think we need to be speculating about who is or isn’t suited for someone else,” George said, trying to focus on his work. “That is the Lord’s doing. We are merely observers.”
“Might be,” Charlie said with a shrug. “But you can’t tell me you haven’t played a role in this, too.”
“Me? Well, I—” George looked at the roomful of men, stunned. “What are you getting at, Charlie? Speak your mind and make it plain.”
“Belinda told me weeks ago that you were the one to match up Sarah Jo and the reverend. That you found the advertisement and made the suggestion.”
His heart suddenly felt like a lead weight. “Oh, I—I suppose I did. But I was just...” Just what? Playing along with Belinda in something that had felt like a game at the time. Sure, on paper Sarah Jo Cummings had seemed perfect for Reverend Billingsley. But things weren’t always as they appeared on paper, now were they?
Unfortunately not. And, also unfortunately, this was no game. It was very real. And now a very real Sarah Jo Cummings resided at the hotel, courting every man in town...except the reverend.
“What do you think of Bucky and Katie Sue’s upcoming wedding?” Charlie asked.
George stopped trimming Charlie’s hair to think about that. Seemed like a lot of folks were making impulsive decisions without taking the time to think—and pray—things through. Still, how could he fault a man like Bucky Williams for wanting to marry a girl with a smile like Katie Sue’s? The young woman had won the hearts of nearly everyone she’d met. Why, the joy of the Lord shone through in everything she did. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?