Audrey woke with a sense of dread. Today she started work at the Burying Funeral Parlor. Working with Kirkland Burying. Just the thought made her want to pull the covers over her head and hide but she couldn’t.
She slid out of bed and moved to the window. Rain. Wouldn’t the sun shine on Thunder Ridge again? She sniffed. The house was beginning to smell of mold—and something else she couldn’t identify. Thunder Ridge needed sunshine and fresh air. Fresh, dry air.
The scent of frying sausage and freshly brewed coffee rose to meet her as she descended the stairs.
Copper paused from arranging plates and silverware on the table. “Good morning. You look very becoming.” Obviously the behavior they’d both exhibited last night was forgotten.
Audrey glanced down at the gray poplin dress with white collar and cuffs. “You don’t think it’s too somber?”
“No, very appropriate.” Copper cocked her head to one side, thoughtful. “After all, one can hardly look frivolous when working at a funeral parlor. It might not set well with the clients.”
“The clients are dead.”
Copper shook her head. “I was referring to the family, of course.”
Willow filled three cups and carried them to the table. “You better dress warmly. You’ll be sopping wet before you reach the parlor.”
“I know.” Audrey sat down at the table. “Hardly seems worthwhile to wear anything very nice, but one must make the effort.”
They held hands as Willow asked the blessing. Audrey raised her head to find Copper staring at her. “What?”
“I just wish you didn’t have to do this. Really, Audrey. If you don’t want to impose on Willow, you could always come to Beeder’s Cove with me. I’m sure the widow would let you share my room.”
Audrey shook her head. “You’ll have enough to worry about with your new job, and a new town. I’ll be just fine. And with what Kirkland is paying me I’ll be able to visit you often.”
“Well, we’ll be praying for you, won’t we, Willow.” Copper broke a biscuit in half and buttered it. “With God’s help we can work our way through this.” She shot a rebellious glance at the rain-streaked window. “It would be easier if the sun shone once in a while. I declare, Willow. When I think of all the letters we got from you complaining about the endless drought, it hardly seems believable we’re getting so much moisture now.”
Audrey blotted her lips with the linen napkin and rose to her feet. “I have to be going. I’ll be home for dinner, if that’s all right. In the future, I’ll take a biscuit and piece of meat and eat at the parlor.”
“I expect you to eat dinner with us,” Willow said. “We’ll have it ready whenever you get here. Be careful.”
“I’ll get the slicker.” Copper hurried to the pantry where the capes and rain gear hung. She returned with the item in hand. “Oh, Audrey. You need something for your head.”
“I have Wallace’s hat. It will do fine.”
She stepped out into driving rain. Head ducked, she waded across the water-soaked yard. The hour was still early, and not many stirred about. Most folks had more sense than to be out in this weather. She slogged on, recalling Caleb’s worries. No one could hold a funeral in weather like this, so she would be spared the expected duties today—unless someone had passed overnight. Kirkland had mentioned there weren’t a lot of deaths in the area, but the parlor served all three towns: Beeder’s Cove, Blackberry Hill, and Thunder Ridge.
The funeral home came into sight and she scurried toward the establishment, anxious to get out of the weather. She was sweating like a horse under the canvas slicker.
The porch offered part shelter. Her heart skipped a beat as she pushed open the door and stepped inside the dank foyer. Silence. Deep, dark silence greeted her. She shivered, nerves on edge.
“Hello there.”
The somber voice was hollow and unexpected. Audrey choked back a scream and turned to meet her employer. “I didn’t see you.”
He nodded. “I’m easy to overlook.”
Her mind raced. With a mighty effort she pulled her thoughts together. At least he was breathing. That was in his favor.
Kirkland rubbed his hands together. “Now, what shall we have you do first?”
Audrey frantically searched for some familiar task to begin with. “Well…I could clean.”
“Clean?”
“Yes. Sweep floors, wash inside windows, that sort of thing.” She warmed to the idea. “Grieving families deserve a spotless place to say good-bye to their loved one.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “I believe you’re right. Clean. Of course. Where would you like to start?”
“Here.” Perhaps she should make that clear that she would not approach his private quarters. “I wouldn’t dream of intruding on your living space.”
He frowned. “They could use a good turning out.”
“I don’t believe that would be appropriate.”
He pursed his lips, and she could almost see his thought process. Finally he nodded, and she sensed his regret. “Not today, at least, but when you are caught up we’ll readdress the issue.”
She would take a long time to get caught up. “Show me where to find cleaning supplies, and I’ll get busy.”
He led her to a small closet in the back room. “All we have is in here.”
She eyed a worn broom, a ragged mop, and a dried, cracked bar of lye soap. Not much indeed. However, it would do. “I’ll need a water bucket and some dusting cloths.”
“I believe I can locate those. I’ll bring them into the viewing room. You can start there.”
She nodded.
Moving to the viewing room, she dragged a sturdy chair over to the window and began removing the curtains. A cloud of dust greeted her. She sneezed. Violently. Again. Good gracious. Apparently the curtains hadn’t been cleaned in years. An entire family of spiders lurked within the grimy folds. She let the heavy velvet fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.
Kirkland brought an empty bucket and a handful of cloths. “I believe these will be sufficient.”
“And the water?” Audrey asked. Water should be the least of her worries.
“Oh yes. Water.” After a moment when she thought he would refuse and ask her to fetch it herself, he picked up the bucket and left.
She turned back to the task at hand with a rueful glance at her good gray poplin dress. She should have worn something more suited to cleaning.
Kirkland returned with the bucket half filled with water and immediately left, probably thinking she’d put him to work. Gathering an armful of dusty drapes, she carried them to a back room. After violently shaking them to dislodge as much dust as possible, she stretched them over the tables and went back to the viewing room to wash windows.
She had finished rehanging the curtains and had swept and mopped when the door opened and a small, birdlike woman entered. Audrey twitched her cuffs into place and straightened her shoulders. “May I help you?”
The woman eyed her, her gaze running up and down. “Hello dear. I’m Marion Burying. Kirkland’s mother?” The woman’s voice was thin and reedlike, matching her appearance.
“Oh yes. I’m Audrey Pride.” This tiny figure was the mother of long, tall, Kirkland? It hardly seemed physically possible.
“You’re the new assistant.” Her features pulled into one giant wrinkle with a smile. “You are just as lovely as Kirkland says.”
Audrey felt heat flood her cheeks. “I’ve…been doing some heavy cleaning.”
Mother Kirkland glanced around the room, nodding. “The old place needs it. When I could, I cleaned often, but that’s been many years ago.” Her expression suddenly turned calculating. “Kirkland is looking for a wife.”
Nodding, Audrey wasn’t sure how to answer.
“He’s a good worker. Good provider.”
Audrey fixed her eyes to the old woman’s features, trying to manage an appropriate response. “Yes…”
“Don’t want anyone taking advantage of his good looks just to secure her future, you understand that. He’d make some lucky girl a good husband, but I’d want him to have a woman who would take care of him in his old age. You understand?” Her eyes searched Audrey’s, skipping here and there. “You look like a sturdy, healthy young woman. Nice wide hips for birthing.”
Audrey’s friendly smile remained in place but her mind raced. Surely the woman wasn’t suggesting that Audrey was here in search of a husband. “Beg your pardon?”
Marion smiled, patting the new assistant’s hand. “You could provide a man with lots of heirs.”
Audrey grasped the back of a chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. Blood drained from her face, and she fought the urge to flee. Swallowing, she groped for words. “Uh…I’d best get back to work. Must earn my salary, you know.”
She started to turn away, but Marion grasped her arm and emphasized, “A very good provider. His wife would want for nothing. Hank and I are getting old—we won’t be around always to look after him.”
Meeting a mother’s pleading gaze, Audrey realized how a bird must feel when confronted by a cat. A large cat. If she didn’t need this job so fiercely, she’d walk out.
Marion patted her arm, each pat like a small enforcing blow. “Think on it now. A woman could do worse, but don’t be swayed by his charm and money alone. When Kirkland marries, it will be for life.”
Audrey drew herself up, shoulders back, head high. In what she hoped was a convincing voice, she proceeded to try to dash Mrs. Burying’s hope. “I’m sure there are many women in Thunder Ridge who recognize your son’s sterling qualities. However, I’m afraid I must decline. I’m not in a position to marry at this time.”
The woman squinted at her. “You’re married?”
“No.” She couldn’t lie. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.
Marion winked. “Then our conversation has not been in vain. Have a wonderful day, Miss Pride. I’ll be around most every day to check on you.”
She fluttered toward the door as Audrey’s gaze followed her with dismay.
Marry Kirkland Burying?
Mr. Burying had failed to mention that particular obligation.