Other than her encounter with Marion, Audrey left the mortuary feeling quite good about her first morning. She, Audrey Pride, had just completed half a day’s work and come out well. Of course she would eventually have to handle deceased saints—or in some cases, the eternally doomed. Would they look different? Would some have a perpetual smile on their lips or would smoke rise from others?
Audrey! She mentally shook herself.
Of course one couldn’t determine someone’s eternal destination by gawking at a dead body. And she resolved to never gawk. Now that she had committed to the job, she would give it all the love and reverence required. She’d earned her keep today.
Rain splashed down her back, but apparently she was adapting because it didn’t bother her as much as it had when she arrived in Thunder Ridge. She was getting used to everything being damp and clingy. The smell of mold and must, the eternal showers, the blasts of thunder and lightning flares were becoming commonplace.
Tate Gray approached from the opposite direction. For once the little boy didn’t flash a winning smile and offer a high-spirited greeting. Instead he fixed his stare on his boots, apparently intending to ignore her. Surely she hadn’t done anything to offend the child…oh, the cookies. She hadn’t gotten around to baking the boy’s requested cookies. As they drew closer, she reached out and touched the child’s shoulder. “Tate? Aren’t you going to speak?”
He glanced up at her and then looked away. “Hello.”
She knelt. “Is there anything wrong?” The usually high-spirited child was anything but his boisterous self today. She sincerely hoped that one of the town bullies hadn’t been picking on him again.
He shrugged.
“Well, something seems to be amiss. Aren’t we friends?” Maybe a little coaxing would bring the boy around. The incessant rain seemed to bog down everyone’s spirits.
He glanced up. “We are?”
“Most definitely. Now why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you. Perhaps I can help.”
He frowned, resembling his father so much it touched her heart. “I’m not supposed to bother you.”
“Bother me?” Now why would he say such a thing? She bent to take his hand. “You could never bother me. I like for you to talk to me, come visit. I still intend to bake those cookies for you.”
“Really?” His expression lightened. “You don’t think I’m a pest?”
“A smart boy like you a pest? Never. Why would you think such a thing?” Though she feared she knew the source. Eli. Apparently he’d warned Tate to stay away from her. She’d have a good talk with him about this matter.
Tate grinned. “I’m smart?”
“You are. You already know how to cipher. I heard you the other day when you were playing with Horace, Jr.”
The boy’s head drooped. “Yeah, Horace and me was supposed to play in the cellar today, but his ma caught us and sent me packing. I’m supposed to stay away from him too.”
Too? Then her assumptions were correct. Eli didn’t want him near her. Audrey sighed. And Cordelia had ordered this innocent child to stay away from Horace, Jr. “Who suggested that you were a pest?”
“Eli.” Tate’s expression was open and innocent. “He said I wasn’t to bother you, that you had too much to do and I’d just be in the way.”
Audrey had a strong urge to go find Eli Gray and give him a good swat upside the head. It was one thing for him to avoid her, but to suggest she didn’t value this child’s trust and companionship was going too far. Stemming her anger, she said softly, “You’re never in my way, but Tate, Eli is your father and you shouldn’t call him by his first name.”
“Why not? That’s his name, and ever’body else calls him Eli.”
“Because it’s not respectful. He’s your father.”
“What’d you want me to call him?”
“Oh…how about Father?”
He shook his head. “Don’t want to. That sounds sissy.”
“Well then how about Daddy?”
The boy shook his head.
“Dad? Pa?” Audrey searched for every known salutation.
“Pa?” Tate’s features turned serious. “That’s what Harry Bellows calls his pa.”
“It’s a very proper name.”
“Pa.” The boy tested the name on his tongue. “You think he’d dust my britches if I called him that?”
Straightening, Audrey took a deep breath, stilling her impatience. Why had this man let his child refer to him by his given name all these years? “I’m quite sure he will be pleased.” And if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with her.
“All right then, I’ll call him Pa. He’ll be surprised, won’t he?”
Quite. But she kept her thoughts to herself. “Where were you going? Do you have a reason to be out in this rain?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not got nary a reason.”
“Then why are you out in this deluge?” The boy needed someone to look after him, and obviously Mrs. Gray was too ill to keep up with the six-year-old.
He shook his head. “Just wandering around.” They fell into step and began walking. When they turned a corner and came face-to-face with Eli, Tate paused. Surprise flickered across the father’s face, and then he turned a stern eye on his son.
“I’ve been looking for you. Don’t you know better than to be out in the rain?”
“I like the rain. Like to splash in puddles.” As if to illustrate his statement he stomped his boot in a nearby hole. Muddy water flew. Audrey caught most of it full in the face. Surprised and shocked, she gasped.
“Tate!” Eli roared.
Boys. Audrey removed a hankie from her purse and mopped up. Undoubtedly Eli must have his hands full with his rambunctious son. Precious as Tate was, he could be trying. She offered a forgiving smile. “Didn’t you like to play in puddles when you were his age?”
For a moment she thought he would return her warm greeting, but his attention settled on his son. “Go on home and get into dry clothes.”
To his credit, the child didn’t put up a fuss.
Audrey extended her cape. “Walk with me, and we can try to stay dry. Or not get any wetter, anyway.” Without waiting for his answer, she handed Eli the slicker, drawing Tate beneath the shelter. He smiled up at her, a heartbreakingly sweet, little-boy grin. Eli would answer to her if he ever again warned this child not to bother her.
Eli took the shelter but his expression remained stern.
Tate splashed through another puddle. “I like walking in the rain, don’t you, Miss Pride?”
“Sometimes. Today is nice,” she agreed. “At least it isn’t thundering. I’m still not fond of the noise.”
“I like it,” Tate declared. “Sounds like fireworks. Do you like fireworks, Miss Pride? I think they’re wonderful.”
“I like them, but I like to know when to expect the fireworks to explode. The thunder catches me unaware. It can be quite nerve shattering.” She glanced at Eli, who remained silent.
“Pa doesn’t like fireworks, do you, Pa? He says they remind him of the war.” Tate grinned at her as he tested the new name.
She patted his head, hoping her smile let him know how proud of him she was. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he had forgotten their talk on proper salutations.
Eli shot him a stunned glance, but remained quiet. Audrey smothered a grin. He must be wondering why Tate had suddenly called him by his rightful title.
Audrey’s hand brushed Eli’s arm as she reached to keep Tate under the slicker. Brazen, she silently reprimanded. Yet she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed walking beside his tall frame, brashly aware of his maleness. Perhaps too aware. She carefully controlled her expression, determined not to let him guess her thoughts.
Stealing a glance, she was surprised to meet his eyes. For an instant something warm and intimate flickered between them, and then his expression shuttered closed.
When they reached the judge’s house, Eli relinquished the covering. She shook her head. “No, you keep it. You and Tate need shelter. You can bring it back later.”
He hesitated. Tate grabbed his hand. “Miss Pride won’t care if we come back and see her. She says I don’t bother her at all. I’m smart. She likes to talk to me.”
Eli glanced down at his son, and Audrey held her breath. Frowning, he handed the slicker to her. “No, son. It’s thoughtful of Miss Pride to offer, but we can get along fine without it.”
Audrey watched as the two turned and walked off in the rain. Eli’s hand rested on Tate’s shoulder, propelling him along. The boy looked back at her, and she smiled. He waved. There was no doubt that Eli was the boy’s father. They walked with the same uneven stride.
“Bye, Miss Pride. I’ll be seeing you again, soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” Audrey gave him one last glance and went inside. As she moved toward the kitchen she could hear Copper’s excited voice.
Her friend turned to greet her. “Oh, there you are. Wait until you hear the news.”
“What news is that?” She hoped it was something good. As far as she was concerned, it was time something positive happened.
Tucker, Caleb, and Willow were seated at the table with Copper. They smiled, giving Copper the floor. Audrey moved over to stand in front of the stove, hoping the heat would dry the skirt of her dress a bit before she sat down in one of Wallace’s nice oak chairs.
“I’ve been to Beeder’s Cove.” Copper grinned triumphantly. “What do you think of that?”
“How did you get there?” Audrey demanded. “I thought the roads were washed out.”
“They are, but only for a short distance out of town, and then it’s passable on foot. The heaviest of rain appears to be concentrated in our area. Caleb was kind enough to take me by boat, and then we walked the rest of the way. We just got back.”
“That’s wonderful—I trust you had a nice visit?”
“Fabulous. The schoolhouse is only temporary, of course, until the town can erect a permanent structure. The room is adequate. I’m to start with thirteen pupils, and I can’t wait. The school board seemed agreeable to all of my requests, and the parents I met were friendly and welcoming.”
Reaching for a towel, Audrey began to dry her hair. “At least something good has come of our move. I’m happy for you.” And she was. Of course she was. Copper was very dear to her, and it was wonderful that everything was coming up roses for her. But it hurt that her plans lay in ruins. Who knew when Blackberry Hill would reopen its school, and until then she was stuck at the Burying Parlor.
“Did you meet the Widow Potts?”
Copper nodded. “I did, and she is most genteel. Her house is well maintained, with beautiful furniture and accessories, and I’m to have a room of my own. It’s delightful. Lace curtains, a braided bedside rug, and even a desk and chair for my use. I couldn’t ask for more.”
“I’m sure you’ll be very happy there.” Audrey did her best to sound excited, but an attack of self-pity struck and struck hard.
Tucker and Caleb stayed for dinner. Audrey gave a quick thought to Eli and Tate, dining with the ailing Mrs. Gray. Was the woman able to cook? Could she be trusted with the care of a lively little boy like Tate? She’d never met Mrs. Gray, but she had formed a mental picture of a delicate, ailing woman striving to make a home for her son and grandson. She’d probably welcome a younger woman’s help, one who could take the load off her shoulders.
Audrey gave herself a mental shake. If Eli ever fell in love again, it would surely not be with her. That much was beginning to be apparent. For all her “patience,” she couldn’t make a dent in his armor. The man went out of his way to avoid any meaningful contact.
Tucker asked the blessing, and Willow passed a plate of pork chops. The biscuits were light and flaky; the gravy hot and flavorful, but for Audrey the meal had lost its luster. She was happy for Copper. But she wanted a school too. She was a teacher, not an undertaker.
Copper handed her a steaming bowl. “How was your first morning of work?”
Caleb paused in the act of buttering a biscuit. “You went to work today?”
She nodded.
Tucker grinned. “How’d you get along with Kirkland?”
“Just fine. He seems to know what he’s doing, and since it’s the only funeral parlor around, I’m sure he does a steady business.” She didn’t mention Marion. She didn’t want to think about Marion. That problem would have to be dealt with eventually, but the first day of employment didn’t seem like the time to irritate your employer.
“Did you…?” Copper paused. “Oh, Audrey, say you didn’t. I can’t bear to think of you doing that.”
“No, I cleaned today, and Kirkland said they had very few buryings. That’s why he can afford to pay me so handsomely for each…client.”
“The pay is good?” Tucker forked a couple of chops.
“Two dollars each.”
Caleb let out a low whistle. “That’s mighty good wages.”
“Yes, but I’ll only make that on clients. Otherwise, the job pays fifty cents a week. I’m sure it won’t be all that bad. After all, we saw worse in the war.”
“But we didn’t clean them up,” Copper pointed out. “We just rolled them into the holes and Asa covered them up with dirt.”
“Copper, that is absolutely disgusting. The Burying Parlor is a bit more civilized. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” Audrey cut a bite of meat and chewed it with deliberation, hoping someone would change the subject.
Tucker frowned. “When have you ever put on face paint? No respectable woman uses such artificial beauty aids.”
Willow spoke up. “Of course Audrey has never worn face paint, but how difficult can it be? I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”
The face paint didn’t worry her, but Mother Burying was going to keep her awake nights.