A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(45)

When they reached the chorus, other folks joined in, and everyone applauded as the children finished.

“Thank you,” Del said. “We believe this will be a very popular song, and we are proud to share it with you. Mrs. Caldwell, would you please play it again, and I will shout out the words. The children and anyone who knows it can sing along.”

When the song was over, someone was heard to say, “If that don’t get your feet to tappin’, what will?” Chuckles flitted over the gathering.

Mr. Young paced the platform, watching for the train that was supposed to have arrived by now, checking his watch and shaking his head.

Del and Mrs. Caldwell shrugged at each other. Forsythia lifted the fiddle to her shoulder. “How about ‘America’? Everyone, let’s all sing along.”

The other musicians joined in, and they sailed right into “‘My country, ’tis of thee . . .’”

Mr. Young came out of the station and waited until the song finished. “The telegram said they left right on time and should have been here by now. Something must have happened on the way.” He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief and settled his hat back on.

Mr. Caldwell looked to Rev. Pritchard, who shrugged. Caldwell raised his voice. “Something has forestalled the train, but we don’t need a fancy politician to bless our new train station. We can do this just fine.”

Rev. Pritchard nodded in agreement and raised his hands. “Let us pray.” He waited for folks to settle. “Lord God, heavenly Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, we stand before the work of our hands. We come before you, asking that you will bless this train station and all the folks who have worked on it and for it. That this station will be welcoming to strangers, as is this town. That the trains that run on this track will help bring growth and prosperity to our town. Father, we thank you for all your provisions, the singing, music, food, and time to be together and become better friends. Bless everyone here and help us go forth in joy. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.”

He nodded to Del, who led the students—and the gathering—in one more rousing chorus.

“Now, that was better’n a parade,” Mr. Jorgensen said to Mr. Young, who clapped him on the back.

“That indeed was our parade. I sure wish I knew what happened to that train.”

Despite the angst on Mr. Young’s florid face, the rest of Salton’s population, their ranks swelled by railroad and construction workers, flowed toward the tables laden with food. People sat wherever they could find room, their plates loaded with roasted antelope, corn on the cob, various pastries, pickles, and pie. Families spread quilts in the shade, and youngsters perched on the edge of the platform, feet dangling.

After making sure all her students had rejoined their families, Del joined hers last, plate in hand. With the performance behind her, her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Lark met her with furrowed brow, though she and Lilac scooted to make space for her on the quilt.

Del bowed her head for a silent grace, then bit into her corn on the cob, butter dribbling down her chin. “Something wrong?”

“I just hate seeing that liquor tent.” Lark jutted her chin at the dingy tent on the other side of the railroad tracks. “Isn’t there anything we can do about it?”

Del glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, a number of the construction workers and other single men had drifted that direction. Some lingered outside the tent, cups or bottles in hand. A burst of raucous laughter carried across the tracks.

“Like what? They’ve kept it outside the town limits.” Lilac sopped up savory meat juices from her plate with a sourdough biscuit.

“I don’t know, but something. I hear they have gambling too. I’m sure we’re not the only women in town who don’t want that kind of influence around.”

“So let’s gather the women.” Del dabbed her mouth with one of the napkins she’d tucked in their picnic basket.

“What do you mean?”

Del shrugged. “Talk to them, hold a meeting. The men might think they run things around here, but each one I know has a wife with a lot of influence over him.” Her conviction grew as she spoke. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? “Actually, I should be talking to them about the school. Surely they care about their children’s education.” She thought of Mrs. O’Rourke. Would she come to such a meeting?

“You’re rather brilliant, you know that?” Lark shook her head and popped one more bite of antelope in her mouth, then laid down her fork and rose. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Caldwell right now.”

Lilac and Del exchanged glances and grins.

“Now you’ve done it.” Lilac pushed back her sunbonnet to let in the cooling evening breeze. “You’ve started Lark on another crusade. Do you think she’s especially touchy about gambling because of what happened with Jonah and that lowdown snake Ringwald?”

“Likely. I mean, that’s the whole reason we all ended up here.”

“I think God had something to do with it too.”

“You’re pretty wise for a baby sister.” Del reached to squeeze her hand. Lilac was growing up, her dark curls pinned up ladylike today, her girlish features turning into those of a woman as she gazed across the gathering, a pensive look in her eyes.

“It looks like Reverend Pritchard is gathering the musicians for the dancing.” Lilac stood and shook out her skirts. “You coming?”