A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(64)

Mrs. Caldwell shook her head as she and Del stood outside after church the next Sunday. The September breeze finally nipped cool after the long summer, and Del tugged her shawl about her shoulders.

“No, he only met the husband briefly once when he came in for something about a legality regarding his homestead. He said Mr. Kinsley seemed quiet but nice enough. Their land is quite a ways out, so perhaps that’s why we don’t see them at church.”

But nice could be deceiving. Not everyone showed their cards as flagrantly as Deacon Wiesel—and even he had kept some of their church members back home deceived.

Del fought a rising angst. “If I was somehow able to prove John is being abused, what could we do?”

“That’s the other hard thing.” Mrs. Caldwell winced. “Henry says legally there’s really no recourse. Parents have the right to do what they wish with their own children and punish them as they see fit. Unless it actually amounts to murder, the law can do nothing.”

Just as Wiesel’s abuse of Climie to “keep her in line” did not qualify as criminal. A red blur swam across Del’s vision. “That’s purely evil. What is wrong with this world?”

Lark joined them. “A good deal, I’m afraid, as the Bible minces no words about. But fortunately, there are some things we can do about it, if we join together. I’ve just been talking with the other ladies, and we have at least a dozen who wish to meet and discuss the problem of the liquor tent. Mrs. Caldwell, you’ll join us?”

“You may be sure of that. When and where?”

“We thought the church, this Friday evening. Any children can play in the yard if their mothers are in the meeting, and the older ones can help watch the younger.”

“Good.” Del drew a breath of hope. Even if she could do nothing else about whatever was going on in the Kinsley family, if liquor was involved, perhaps dealing with that problem would still help.

Lilac stepped up to the group, her voice more subdued than usual. “Did Reverend Pritchard give his permission?”

“He did.” Lark nodded. “He’s glad for us to use the space and to lend his support in whatever other way he can.”

Del cut a keen glance at their youngest sister, but Lilac avoided her eyes. Del pressed her lips together. She’d given Rev. Pritchard no encouragement whatsoever, and so far nothing else had happened, but she needed to clear the air with her sister, and soon. Family ties were too precious to let misunderstandings get in the way.

“Well, I see Henry is looking for me. The man can wait only so long for his Sunday dinner.” Mrs. Caldwell smiled. “I’ll see you Friday, ladies.”

A chorus of waving and good-byes, and then the sisters walked Forsythia toward her house, a sleepy Mikael in Climie’s arms. It was good to see Climie able to enjoy church again. It had been such a traumatic place for her before.

“Miss Nielsen?”

Del turned at the low voice behind her. “Mr. Easton.” Her heart quickened a bit. She was surprised to see him there, though she shouldn’t be—he’d be heading home with the Brownsvilles. “How is your eye?” She bit her tongue as soon as she spoke. After his response the other evening to the mud she’d brought, he’d likely freeze her out now.

But he only gave a half smile and touched a finger to his eye patch. “A little better, maybe. I’m not sure.”

“I hope so.” Her lungs filled with relief, not just for his eye, but that he didn’t seem angry at her. Though why should that matter? She pushed the thought away. “We all so want to see you free of pain.”

He shifted his feet, removed his hat. “I wanted to apologize for my ill temper the other evening. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Who does?” She arched a brow but smiled at him. “Of course you are forgiven. You must have felt a bit swarmed.”

He hesitated, then glanced over at her waiting sisters. “Well, I’d best let you go. See you later.”

“See you.”

Del watched him stride off toward the Brownsvilles’ house ahead, then turned to join Larkspur and Lilac in saying good-bye to Forsythia.

“It still feels strange with only three of us, especially now that Anders is gone,” Del said as their wagon rumbled over the prairie toward home. Would the Nielsen siblings continue to drift apart one by one? She shook her head to dispel the melancholy thoughts. At least RJ’s eye might be improving. Thank the Lord for that. And there was definitely a softening in him of late. She actually enjoyed his company now—when he wasn’t in one of his foul moods.

———

The next morning, school started again after a week off for harvest, but both John and Bethany Kinsley were missing at roll call. Del marked the absences and carried on with a smile for the other children, but worry wound a knot in her middle until she couldn’t eat much of her dinner. By the last period of the day, she could barely concentrate on the older students’ recitations. Timothy O’Rourke’s fumbling through his lesson grated on her last nerve.

“Timothy.” Her voice came out sharper than she’d meant it to. “Concentrate. You’re stumbling over every other word.”

“Yes, miss.” The boy ducked his black-haired head. “Sorry, Miss Nielsen.”

Del sighed. “Try it again, slower.”