dear.
Chapter Eight
The coldness from Jane and Mary continued, while the boys and Susanna had warmed up to me, even embracing me at times, especially when Maria and I made treats. I tried my best to encourage the older girls to help with needlework or knitting, but they didn't seem to care for arts and crafts. I had gone to school to talk to Miss Cox. She had shown me what they had been working on, and I had seen the drawings that Jane had made. They were of the prairie behind the school, and they had been beautiful finished.
It seemed that I spent most of my day traveling back and forth to town, and by Thursday, I was more than ready to share the responsibility with Pastor Bailey, but I dreaded having to see him. Our last meeting had been filled with anger and animosity. I doubted today would be any different. The children could have walked to the church after school, but I was in town, having to run errands, and a small part of me was worried that he had forgotten about our arrangement. They climbed into the wagon for the short ride; their things were in several bundles in the back. Pastor Bailey’s wagon was by the side of the building, and I assumed I was to bring them here.
“Let’s go in. I’ll see if he’s here.” I stepped from the wagon, as Mary and Jane followed. The boys dashed around in a circle, having chased Susanna, who shrieked excitedly. “Shush, now! It’s a church.”
I placed a finger to my mouth for silence. I relished having a few days to myself. The frequent trips to town and the stress of having to deal with Jane and Mary’s less than friendly behavior had taken a toll on me.
We were in the Nave. “Do sit here for a moment. I’m going to find him.” I strode down the aisle, inhaling the light scent of incense. Pastor Bailey was in the small office, sitting behind the desk. He glanced up when I entered; his expression was unguarded for a moment, revealing distaste.
“I’ve brought the children.” He seemed confused for a moment. Had he forgotten our shared responsibilities?
The quill he had been using was left on a sheet of paper. “How can I help you?”
“Truly? You don’t remember?”
“From all accounts, I’ve heard things are going well. When the children are adjusting so beautifully, why would you want to upset everything?”
“Oh, I see. It’s quite all right for my life to be turned upside down, but heaven forbid you’re inconvenienced in any way.”
“They aren’t my children. I wouldn’t uproot them at this juncture. They’re adjusting well—”
“How do you know that? I’m the one dealing with them. My sister’s house is filled with more people than she knows what to do with. She’s been dreadfully inconvenienced. I’ve three girls in my bedroom! I haven’t had a moment of peace since Sunday, when I was told that I was suddenly a mother.” What was it about him that provoked my anger so quickly?
“I…meant to come and—”
“Hogwash! You had no intention of checking on us. How you were named pastor for this community is beyond me. You’ve shown absolutely no compassion at all for your parishioners, especially…especially me! You could care less about the stresses I’ve been suffering.” I glanced around the book-lined space. Everything seemed well-organized. “You’re here in your nice little office, writing letters in peace and solitude, while I’m feeding and washing up after five children. I won’t even bore you with how many hours I spend driving back and forth to town every day.”
He had gotten to his feet, towering over the deck. “Must you provoke a fight each time we meet?”
“I certainly don’t mean to.”
“I’ve been thinking about this situation.”
“That’s refreshing.”
He appeared to be taking a deep breath. “I sympathize with your plight, Mrs. Hatch, but the children aren’t related to me in any way. I’m willing to guide them down the spiritual path to commune with our Lord, but I am not