Nothing more was said about the matter as the men visited for a time. They learned that Douglas had come straight from the meetinghouse and was missing his dinner, but even when theirs arrived, he would not stay.
Conner told Douglas he would visit soon, and before they began to eat their dinner, he’d found the cookies in the basket. He made a mental note to thank Mrs. Muldoon when he met her, and he also hoped Reese’s baked goods would be half as tasty.
Eight
Reese felt her heart pound a little as she opened the side door and let herself inside the big house. She had woken early that morning and memorized a verse from Psalm 18. Two large baskets that had not been fun to carry from Shephard Store were now able to go on the worktable, and Reese realized she’d recited the verse all the way to the house.
With the merciful thou wilt show thyself merciful; with an upright man thou wilt show thyself upright. Reese repeated the verse one more time before she started to carry items up the small staircase that led directly to the kitchen overhead.
It was a lot of extra steps on this first day. She had not been told to use the side door that led out to the barn and other buildings, but she felt better doing that. The front door did not seem to be the right place for her. Not at this house.
Reese stood for a moment, not sure if anyone was about, and then realized she had no time to spare. She wanted to see to the house and have dinner on the table in less than three hours. It was time to get to work.
“What was he thinking, Troy?” Conner, who was feeling like himself again, asked about Mr. Jenness as he looked at the office setup in the alcove at the bank. Conner, having nothing to hide and enjoying customers, found the arrangement rather cramped and confining.
“Let’s rearrange,” Troy suggested, having wanted to do that on the first day.
“All right.”
“I’ll move the desk; you do the shelves.”
Conner told himself not to laugh, but it didn’t work. This belief that Conner could lift anything was Troy’s continuing joke. And he was a strong man, but bookshelves almost as tall as he was and full of books were certainly beyond his reach.
“Why don’t I move the desk, and you start unloading the books?”
“Always the lackey,” Troy teased, making Conner laugh again.
“Just a minute,” Conner said, suddenly stopping him. “I’m going to check with Mr. Leffler about this.”
“All right.”
“Mr. Leffler,” Conner began when he got to the counter. “We want to rearrange the furniture in the alcove. Is that going to disrupt business for you?”
He was so soft-spoken that Mr. Leffler had to strain upward to hear him. He hoped he caught all the words and said, “Not unless I need to get into the vault and my way is blocked.”
“Are you certain? We can leave it until after hours this evening.”
“It should be fine, Mr. Kingsley. The customers won’t mind.”
“Tell me, Mr. Leffler. Are you free for dinner this noon?”
“I am, sir.”
“Good. You’ll come home with us.”
Troy had come around the bookshelves to hear all of this and immediately offered to head home and tell Reese.
“Or I can go,” Conner realized.
“No, I’ll do it.”
Conner smiled slowly. “You’re getting out of moving things, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” Troy said, but he wasn’t convincing. He exited while the youngest Kingsley was still laughing.
A pork roast stew was bubbling on the stove, rolls were rising nearby, and the pie she’d made the night before at Mrs. Greenlowe’s was ready to be cut. She still had a cheese souffle to bake, vegetables to cut and add to the meat, and butter to dish out, but the meal was shaping up nicely.
Reese had taken out the most lovely dishes to place on the table. She wasted several minutes admiring them before she remembered that the clock was ticking. She’d put the dining room to rights and then started on the rest of the house. The bedrooms were in good order, but the downstairs parlors needed dusting already. It hadn’t rained for more than a week, and the layer of dust on the fine, dark furniture could certainly attest to that.
Things still looked a bit sparse, but Reese had not felt it was her job to decorate. Other than the various Argand lamps, the shelves and tables were still basically bare, and Reese simply hummed along, dusting cloth in hand, her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck so she could bend without getting it in her face. This was how Troy found her.
“How is it going?” he asked when she heard steps and looked to find him in the doorway of the small family parlor at the rear of the house.
“I think it’s going fine. Is there something special you wish me to concentrate on?”
“If that’s dinner I smell cooking in the kitchen, I don’t care about anything else.”
Reese couldn’t help but smile.
“Will it be a problem if there are three of us for dinner?” Troy asked, remembering why he had come.
“Not at all, Mr. Thaden. I’ll set another place. Will you be coming directly at noon?”
“Yes, as soon as we close the bank.”
“I’ll have it on the table.”
“Are you finding everything?” Troy questioned, some urge inside of him wanting to make life a little easier for this woman.
“I think so. If I’ve missed something, I hope you’ll tell me. I didn’t find any clothing to wash.”
“We’ll let you know, all right?”
“Certainly.”
“You can call me Troy,” that man suddenly added, not liking it when she addressed him as Mr. Thaden.
“All right,” Reese agreed, but she looked a bit surprised.
“ ‘Mister’ makes me feel old,” Troy explained, which was only partly true.
“You don’t look old,” Reese told him, her face relaxing.
“I’m a grandfather.”
Reese’s look turned comical.
“You can’t be!”
“Twice over,” Troy added with plenty of grandfatherly pride.
Reese was still looking surprised when Troy smiled at her one more time, waved, and went on his way. Reese went out into the hallway to see him exit through the front door, and in doing so realized the stairs were quite dusty. Not wanting that to be the first thing the men saw when they came home, Reese went to work on those.
She worked along steadily until she came to a portrait on the wall. She thought this might be Nettie Kingsley and wondered exactly how she was related to the Kingsleys who were here in Tucker Mills. When she’d talked to Douglas before services the day before, he’d said that Dalton Kingsley was here. Reese didn’t think that was the name Troy Thaden had used but admitted to being rather unsettled by everything Mr. Thaden had said.
For a moment Reese stood and wondered about it. She thought it uncanny that Douglas knew this family from another town and had ended up living in Tucker Mills. Going back to her humming and dusting, Reese decided to ask Douglas more about it. The story was probably worth hearing.
Reese put the last of the serving dishes on the dining room table and slipped out of sight into the kitchen. Telling herself to relax and breathe normally, she stood and hoped they would come soon. For some reason, she didn’t want to be around when they ate. She thought her cooking would be fine, but for some reason, she felt awkward. A desire to please Mr. Kingsley, a man she hadn’t even met, as well as Troy Thaden, was strong within her.
In the midst of these thoughts, she heard the front door open. She quietly glanced around the kitchen to see if she’d forgotten anything and then slipped down the narrow stairs to the workroom and out the side door. She didn’t want to be in the way right now and had already told Mrs. Greenlowe she would be home for dinner.
She walked away from the house with a sense of accomplishment and excitement. She only hoped they would enjoy the meal.
“Oh, my,” Troy said when he saw the dining room. Rees
e had not answered his call, but clearly she expected them to eat. The men took seats, all thinking that Reese had outdone herself. Three places were set on one end of the table, and all the dishes were in reach. If the aromas could be trusted, they were in for a treat.
“Will you please pray?” Conner asked Troy when the men had gotten comfortable. Troy obliged.
Mr. Leffler hadn’t expected this, but he didn’t comment or do anything more than bow his head. He didn’t even hear the prayer. He was too busy thinking about Mr. Jenness. Wherever that man had gone, he was certainly missing out. He’d not been a kind employer or a personable banker, but a small portion of Mr. Leffler’s heart was sorry for him.
“I think I want you to check on Mr. Jenness again,” Conner said when they began to eat. “Maybe his wife has heard from him.”
“I’ll go after dinner,” Troy replied but then turned to Mr. Leffler. “Would she hear from him and not tell us?”
“What do you mean?”
“I asked her to inform me if he was in touch. Would she do that?”
“I think so,” Mr. Leffler said, not wanting to ask what he was thinking. Would Mrs. Jenness protect her husband and help hide him if he’d somehow cheated the bank? Mr. Leffler had not had that many dealings with Mrs. Jenness, but she didn’t seem the type to stick up for her husband. Indeed, they seemed cross with each other every time Mr. Leffler had seen them interact.
Mr. Leffler need not have worried about sharing any more. The other two men had no intention of putting him on the spot, at least not more than they already had. They asked Mr. Leffler to tell them about his family and how he’d come to live in Tucker Mills. The subject of the bank and banking did not come up again.
“How did it go?” Mrs. Greenlowe was ready with questions as well as the meal.
“I think all right. The meal smelled good.”
“Did they say if they liked it?”
“I didn’t stay to find out.”
This gave Mrs. Greenlowe pause.
“Why was that?” she asked quietly this time, not usually her way.
“I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be in the way, and I felt a little embarrassed.”
Mrs. Greenlowe’s heart turned with compassion. If there had been someone in this girl’s life to give her confidence and deserved praise, it had been more years ago than anyone could remember.
“You’re a good girl, Reese,” was all the landlady would say.
Trying to eat her own food, Reese smiled at her and hoped that the men were enjoying what she made.
When Mr. Leffler did not have a customer, he helped Conner with the office. The books had to be returned to their rightful place, and some were quite dusty. The men worked side by side, not talking a lot, but as the afternoon wore on, Mr. Leffler was better able to catch Conner’s soft tones. He was greatly curious to know why this man whispered but would not have asked under any circumstances.
“I think we need a railing along this area,” Conner pointed to the place where the bookshelves had been used as a wall. “Something about so high,” he used a hand to indicate some three feet off the floor. “And with a small swinging gate. It will keep an air of professionalism and still be welcoming to the public.”
“It seems to me that there used to be one,” Mr. Leffler looked at the walls for marks and found some under the paint. “Yes. It was right where you’re suggesting.”
“It must be in my memory then,” Conner surmised. “Now who would we ask to make this?”
“Mr. Zantow was the best, but he died recently.”
“Was that the man who had Reese Thackery’s papers?”
“The very one.”
“And he was a woodworker?” Conner clarified.
“Yes, you look surprised.”
“I am. I pictured the owner of a larger business, since Mr. “Thank you,” Lillie returned, coming out of her misery long
Mr. Leffler looked surprised before admitting, “I don’t recall.”
Conner nodded, but his mind had gone to the fact that Reese had never made an appearance. The men had gone so far as to clear their own dishes back to the kitchen, but they never saw Reese to thank her for the wonderful meal.
He thought he might ask Troy to check on her when he returned, even then wondering how Troy might be faring at the Jenness home.
“Hello,” said the young man who answered the door this time. Troy guessed him to be about 16.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Mr. or Mrs. Jenness.”
“My mother is here,” the young man confirmed and stepped back, allowing Troy’s entrance.
Troy watched the youth walk away and heard voices before Mrs. Jenness returned on her own.
“I’m sorry to bother you again,” Troy began, thinking she looked even more severe than before. “I just wanted to check on Mr. Jenness. Is he all right?”
“I don’t know,” Lillie admitted. For all her severe looks, her tone was humble and subdued. “I haven’t heard from him at all.”
“I’m sorry. If I’d known that discussing bank business would have been so upsetting, I would have handled it differently.”
Lillie looked him in the eye, realizing she could not let this opportunity pass.
“Can you come in?” she asked, wanting to add his name, but she’d forgotten. “I’d like to know what happened.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Jenness,” Troy agreed, seeing no reason to hide anything from this woman.
“What did you talk about exactly?”
“We started with the subject of Reese Thackery. I needed him to explain his reasons for retaining her papers.”
“I don’t know what he was thinking,” Lillie put in, her voice filled with confusion. “He even had her come here.” Lillie shook her head a little. “I didn’t need her help. I didn’t want her here, but he seemed so excited.”
Troy nodded, not sure what to say next.
“Was that all?” Lillie pressed.
“Well, almost all. I then asked about the account books and the safe. He became very distressed at that point and said he must leave.”
Lillie put a hand to her face before whispering, “Victor, what have you done?”
“You need to know, Mrs. Jenness,” Troy spoke right up, “that as questionable as your husband’s behavior may seem, we’ve found nothing out of order. We’re still going over things, but so far there are no issues.”
Lillie nodded, looking hopeful for the first time. Troy, however, knew he had to say the rest.
“Should we find something, Mrs. Jenness, I will certainly come and inform you, but you need to understand that I’d also be going to the authorities. I really would have no choice.”
“Yes, of course.” Lillie uttered the words automatically, even as her heart cried for it not to be true. Her marriage was not at all what she had hoped it would be, but Victor was a good provider, and she knew Gerald needed a father.
“I won’t keep you any longer,” Troy said, standing, his hat in hand. “Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Jenness, and I hope you learn very soon that your husband is well.”
“Thank you,” Lillie returned, coming out of her misery long enough to remember her manners and realizing as he left that he had been kind. She had no more shut the door when she saw that Gerald had come in behind her.
His questions about his father and what he’d done only served to make Lillie’s head hurt. She had no answers. It hurt even worse when Gerald thought she was hiding something from him and left the house in anger.
“Are you leaving, Reese?” Troy asked when he gained the kitchen and found her headed for the stairs, basket in hand.
“Yes, I’m done for the day. I left everything ready for your tea,” Reese said, nodding her head in the direction of the table in the kitchen.
“We couldn’t find you at dinner,” Troy said, going right to the point.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to serve you?”
“That’s not it. We weren’t able to thank
you, and I was concerned that you hadn’t eaten.”
“I went home for dinner. Thank you for asking.”
“Was there a reason you did that? Did you think that’s what we wanted?”
“I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to presume.”
“Starting tomorrow, we’ll expect you to eat the same food you’ve made for us. You don’t need to serve us, or eat when we do, but we expect you to partake of our food for dinner.”
“Thank you,” Reese said, unable to avoid a smile; he had sounded so severe.
“Am I being laughed at?” Troy’s face told her she could joke with him.
Reese couldn’t stop smiling. “You were a little serious just now.”
“Are you going to stay and eat here?”
“Yes.”
“Then it worked, didn’t it?”
Reese laughed. “As long as you’re here,” she changed directions, “is there anything you need me to do before I go?”
“I’m sure not. If I spot something, I can tell you in the morning. Breakfast, right?”
“I’m planning on it.”
“That’s a relief. I’m tired of my own eggs.”
Wanting to laugh all over again, Reese only smiled and went on her way. They hadn’t said when she would be paid or how much, but never having been so appreciated in her life, she almost thought she could work there for free.
“Is he ever going to go to sleep?” Alison asked of Douglas, who was sitting on the edge of their bed long after the rest of the children were down for the night, still holding six-month-old Jeffrey.
“I don’t know,” Douglas answered, still smiling at his little son.
“It might help if you stop playing with him.”
“What fun is that?” Douglas teased her.
“I think it’s fun to sleep.” Alison rolled over and got comfortable. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Can you tell Mama goodnight?” Douglas whispered to Jeffrey, who smiled in delight. “We’re going to pray for Mama now,” Douglas added, and very softly he thanked God for the wonderful wife He’d given to him and also asked for His blessing, his voice lulling both his wife and son to sleep.