Mr. Perkins is doubling the size of his mill and hiring a great many new people. Maybe they’ll be able to bring in folks from outside the area who won’t be so superstitious.”
Dr. Clayton looked unconvinced. “I have no patience for ignorance.”
“Neither do I, but I find that often the only way to get folks to see things right is to give them an example. John’s hand is a good one. In time, word will get around that it was your handiwork, and not Mrs. Foster’s poultice, that did the trick.”
Rain hitting the window drew her attention and a brilliant flash of lightning filled the room. The boom of the thunder came nearly on top of it. “I do hope the men working outside got to safety.”
“Seems we can use the rain,” Dr. Clayton offered.
“Yes, I suppose we should be grateful for that.” She brushed imaginary lint from her brown skirt. “Dr. Clayton . . .”
“Call me Christopher,” he suggested. “We are friends after all.”
She looked at him for a moment and saw a glint of amusement in his expression. “It would be scandalous if I were to do so. You’re new to the community. I didn’t grow up with you around. And you’re my elder.”
“I’m not that old. I’ve yet to start using a cane, and I still hear quite well.”
Deborah giggled. “It would be inappropriate. I can just hear the reprimands. Why, the preacher would probably be informed on his next visit, and I’d be called before the congregation to repent of my sinful ways.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose I can’t have that. Still, couldn’t you call me Christopher in private?”
“I don’t think it would be wise. I might become too comfortable and blurt it out accidentally.” She sobered. “There are a lot of rules for young women – for any woman, actually. I wouldn’t want to stir up trouble after just arriving home. To be honest, I think people are looking for something they can point at.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Deborah went to the window. The rumble of thunder seemed to be growing less frequent. “I know I’m being watched carefully by those who knew me before. They will want to see that I didn’t pick up any bad habits while attending school in the East. They don’t really value education.”
“Why is that?”
“No one can afford the luxury of it,” she replied. “Children are needed to help earn a living, so school for them is usually done by the eighth grade – if they get to attend that long. Adults have no time for pleasures like reading. Even so, few can read – especially among the men. When I went off to school, folks were mixed on how they felt about it. Some thought I was lucky and wished me well. Others frowned on it and said I was sure to be ruined by the ways of the world.”
“You don’t look too ruined to me,” he said with a chuckle.
Deborah studied him and found she liked the way tiny lines formed at his eyes when he laughed. He was a handsome man – perhaps Dr. Clayton would find a woman here in Perkinsville and marry. Maybe it would even be one of Mr. Perkins’s daughters. They had certainly enjoyed his company when they’d been at the Vandermark house for supper.
She put aside such thoughts. “It will be scandal enough that I’m here. Of course, the storm will be my excuse. I brought back your periodicals and took refuge until the rain let up.”
“What of when you brought me doughnuts?”
“I was doing the good Christian thing in greeting a new neighbor. I stayed to help, because anyone would have done likewise. But mark my words: Someone will have seen me come here today and make a comment about it later. Hopefully it won’t cause harm to your reputation.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I doubt anything could harm it more than Mrs. Foster’s warnings.”
–––––––
Margaret Foster was raising a ruckus when Deborah entered the store a short time later. The rain had let up and folks had started to come
Dr. Clayton looked unconvinced. “I have no patience for ignorance.”
“Neither do I, but I find that often the only way to get folks to see things right is to give them an example. John’s hand is a good one. In time, word will get around that it was your handiwork, and not Mrs. Foster’s poultice, that did the trick.”
Rain hitting the window drew her attention and a brilliant flash of lightning filled the room. The boom of the thunder came nearly on top of it. “I do hope the men working outside got to safety.”
“Seems we can use the rain,” Dr. Clayton offered.
“Yes, I suppose we should be grateful for that.” She brushed imaginary lint from her brown skirt. “Dr. Clayton . . .”
“Call me Christopher,” he suggested. “We are friends after all.”
She looked at him for a moment and saw a glint of amusement in his expression. “It would be scandalous if I were to do so. You’re new to the community. I didn’t grow up with you around. And you’re my elder.”
“I’m not that old. I’ve yet to start using a cane, and I still hear quite well.”
Deborah giggled. “It would be inappropriate. I can just hear the reprimands. Why, the preacher would probably be informed on his next visit, and I’d be called before the congregation to repent of my sinful ways.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose I can’t have that. Still, couldn’t you call me Christopher in private?”
“I don’t think it would be wise. I might become too comfortable and blurt it out accidentally.” She sobered. “There are a lot of rules for young women – for any woman, actually. I wouldn’t want to stir up trouble after just arriving home. To be honest, I think people are looking for something they can point at.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Deborah went to the window. The rumble of thunder seemed to be growing less frequent. “I know I’m being watched carefully by those who knew me before. They will want to see that I didn’t pick up any bad habits while attending school in the East. They don’t really value education.”
“Why is that?”
“No one can afford the luxury of it,” she replied. “Children are needed to help earn a living, so school for them is usually done by the eighth grade – if they get to attend that long. Adults have no time for pleasures like reading. Even so, few can read – especially among the men. When I went off to school, folks were mixed on how they felt about it. Some thought I was lucky and wished me well. Others frowned on it and said I was sure to be ruined by the ways of the world.”
“You don’t look too ruined to me,” he said with a chuckle.
Deborah studied him and found she liked the way tiny lines formed at his eyes when he laughed. He was a handsome man – perhaps Dr. Clayton would find a woman here in Perkinsville and marry. Maybe it would even be one of Mr. Perkins’s daughters. They had certainly enjoyed his company when they’d been at the Vandermark house for supper.
She put aside such thoughts. “It will be scandal enough that I’m here. Of course, the storm will be my excuse. I brought back your periodicals and took refuge until the rain let up.”
“What of when you brought me doughnuts?”
“I was doing the good Christian thing in greeting a new neighbor. I stayed to help, because anyone would have done likewise. But mark my words: Someone will have seen me come here today and make a comment about it later. Hopefully it won’t cause harm to your reputation.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I doubt anything could harm it more than Mrs. Foster’s warnings.”
–––––––
Margaret Foster was raising a ruckus when Deborah entered the store a short time later. The rain had let up and folks had started to come
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