little while.”
Thomas would never understand females and their need to talk. “You work all day in the merchandise store, you come home to a mother and sister . . . Don’t you get enough chatting?”
Belinda’s face clouded, and Thomas regretted the question. He started to apologize, but she answered in a solemn tone. “I very rarely chat just for the sake of chatting, except with your stepmother. Or your father. They’re very kind and always have time for me.”
So that was why she showed up at his house so regularly. Still, it seemed odd that someone Belinda’s age would spend more time with his folks than with anyone else. Curiosity made him ask, “Don’t you spend time with the young people in town? Quite a few of our Gaeddert classmates now live in Hillsboro.”
The corners of Belinda’s lips tipped downward. “Thomas, you well know I didn’t endear myself to others when we were children. Now that we’re grown, the friendships are already formed, and they don’t have room for someone else—especially when their memories of that ‘someone else’ aren’t pleasant.”
Thomas grunted in irritation, refusing to acknowledge he’d felt the same way about Belinda when he’d first returned to town. “That seems je’rinj to me.”
Belinda offered a sad shrug. “It may be petty, but I don’t blame them. Besides, I don’t have much time for brisling . Not with Mama and Malinda needing my attention.”
Thomas thought about Belinda’s day—filled with work at the merchandise store, caring for her mother’s home, and then ironing in the evenings. Little wonder she seemed to carry an aura of sadness. When did she find time for something fun? Without stopping to think about the possible ramifications, he said, “Independence Day is this coming Monday. Does your family have plans?”
Belinda’s eyes flew wide. “N-no. The store will be closed in celebration of the holiday, but . . . I’ll probably catch up on our family laundry or bake bread.”
Thomas made a face. “That doesn’t sound like much of a celebration. Pa and Summer are planning a picnic. Why don’t you come?”
For long moments Belinda stood in silence, the lashes of her unblinking eyes throwing a shadow across her cheeks. Finally she said, “Are you sure? Mama . . . and Malinda . . .”
At that moment Thomas wasn’t altogether sure he wanted the company of the sour-faced Schmidt women, but he couldn’t turn back now. “All of you. It should be fun. Lots of food, games for the kids, and Pa even squandered some of his hard-earned money and ordered Roman candles to shoot off after the sun goes down.”
Belinda’s mouth dropped open. “Fireworks? I . . . I’ve never seen fireworks.”
“Well, then you have to come.”
She sucked in her lips, clearly uncertain.
Thomas stepped forward and touched her hand. “Belinda, you and your family would be very welcome. Will you come?”
Why it meant so much to him to bring a little joy into Belinda’s life he wasn’t sure. He only knew she needed it and he wanted to provide it. Finally she gave a little nod. “Yes. Thank you. I’ll . . . I’ll talk to Mama.”
“Good.” He leaned over and picked up the knotted end of the rope attached to the wagon. “Now, where does that laundress who’s waiting for the ironing live?”
She reached for the rope, her cheeks stained with pink. “I can take it.”
He shook his head. “It’s getting dark, and you shouldn’t wander the streets alone. I’ll go with you and then walk you home.”
The pink in her cheeks brightened to red. Heat in his own face told him he was blushing, too, but he wouldn’t leave a woman alone on the streets at dusk. Not even Belinda Schmidt.
10
M OST OF THE HOUSE was dark by the time Thomas returned from delivering Belinda’s ironing and then walking her home, but a yellow glow in the kitchen window indicated someone was still up. When he stepped through the back door, he found Summer surrounded by
Thomas would never understand females and their need to talk. “You work all day in the merchandise store, you come home to a mother and sister . . . Don’t you get enough chatting?”
Belinda’s face clouded, and Thomas regretted the question. He started to apologize, but she answered in a solemn tone. “I very rarely chat just for the sake of chatting, except with your stepmother. Or your father. They’re very kind and always have time for me.”
So that was why she showed up at his house so regularly. Still, it seemed odd that someone Belinda’s age would spend more time with his folks than with anyone else. Curiosity made him ask, “Don’t you spend time with the young people in town? Quite a few of our Gaeddert classmates now live in Hillsboro.”
The corners of Belinda’s lips tipped downward. “Thomas, you well know I didn’t endear myself to others when we were children. Now that we’re grown, the friendships are already formed, and they don’t have room for someone else—especially when their memories of that ‘someone else’ aren’t pleasant.”
Thomas grunted in irritation, refusing to acknowledge he’d felt the same way about Belinda when he’d first returned to town. “That seems je’rinj to me.”
Belinda offered a sad shrug. “It may be petty, but I don’t blame them. Besides, I don’t have much time for brisling . Not with Mama and Malinda needing my attention.”
Thomas thought about Belinda’s day—filled with work at the merchandise store, caring for her mother’s home, and then ironing in the evenings. Little wonder she seemed to carry an aura of sadness. When did she find time for something fun? Without stopping to think about the possible ramifications, he said, “Independence Day is this coming Monday. Does your family have plans?”
Belinda’s eyes flew wide. “N-no. The store will be closed in celebration of the holiday, but . . . I’ll probably catch up on our family laundry or bake bread.”
Thomas made a face. “That doesn’t sound like much of a celebration. Pa and Summer are planning a picnic. Why don’t you come?”
For long moments Belinda stood in silence, the lashes of her unblinking eyes throwing a shadow across her cheeks. Finally she said, “Are you sure? Mama . . . and Malinda . . .”
At that moment Thomas wasn’t altogether sure he wanted the company of the sour-faced Schmidt women, but he couldn’t turn back now. “All of you. It should be fun. Lots of food, games for the kids, and Pa even squandered some of his hard-earned money and ordered Roman candles to shoot off after the sun goes down.”
Belinda’s mouth dropped open. “Fireworks? I . . . I’ve never seen fireworks.”
“Well, then you have to come.”
She sucked in her lips, clearly uncertain.
Thomas stepped forward and touched her hand. “Belinda, you and your family would be very welcome. Will you come?”
Why it meant so much to him to bring a little joy into Belinda’s life he wasn’t sure. He only knew she needed it and he wanted to provide it. Finally she gave a little nod. “Yes. Thank you. I’ll . . . I’ll talk to Mama.”
“Good.” He leaned over and picked up the knotted end of the rope attached to the wagon. “Now, where does that laundress who’s waiting for the ironing live?”
She reached for the rope, her cheeks stained with pink. “I can take it.”
He shook his head. “It’s getting dark, and you shouldn’t wander the streets alone. I’ll go with you and then walk you home.”
The pink in her cheeks brightened to red. Heat in his own face told him he was blushing, too, but he wouldn’t leave a woman alone on the streets at dusk. Not even Belinda Schmidt.
10
M OST OF THE HOUSE was dark by the time Thomas returned from delivering Belinda’s ironing and then walking her home, but a yellow glow in the kitchen window indicated someone was still up. When he stepped through the back door, he found Summer surrounded by
Similar Books
