While Love Stirs by Lorna Seilstad

with her lecture, her time with the gas company could be over before it began.
    No. She wouldn’t let that happen. She wanted this too much. She could do this.
    Lewis stepped beside the hardware store owner. She gave him an encouraging smile. With his hair parted down the middle and slicked down on the sides, he looked even younger than he had yesterday. Could this tall, slender young man really croon?
    Last night, Charlotte had discovered that Lewis was an agreeable fellow, quick to laugh and quick to lend a hand. The two of them worked side by side, unpacking her pots and pans. She’d set her lima beans to soaking while they talked. Meanwhile, Molly had taken Charlotte’s list of groceries and made arrangements with the local mercantile and the butcher to have the necessary items delivered.
    Now, as the hardware store owner stepped forward, Charlotte sent up a quick prayer for Lewis’s performance and a longer one for her own success.
    The owner inserted his thumb and pinky into his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Immediately the room fell silent. “That’s more like it.” He glanced at Lewis. “Now, before I introduce our guest speaker, we have a special treat. Mr. Lewis Mathis, a bass from Stillwater, is going to perform for us.”
    Lewis moved to the front of the room. Could he be a bass? Truly? Not a tenor? Or a baritone?
    “The first song I’m going to sing is one I believe you’ll all recognize.” All his nervousness seemed to vanish as he spoke to the crowd.
    How odd. She hadn’t noticed the deep timbre of his voice.
    He smiled at the audience. “Here’s my version of ‘Shine On, Harvest Moon.’”
    With no accompaniment, he began. His voice, strong and full, filled the room. Ladies smiled in appreciation and Charlotte blinked. Lanky Lewis Mathis could sing! News of that voice was sure to travel. By tomorrow, more women would surely attend. Would they be able to fit another twenty or thirty women in the hardware store?
    After “Shine On, Harvest Moon,” Lewis sang a fun rendition of “Good Evening, Caroline” and finished with “Then You’ll Remember Me.” By the end of that song, surely he’d won the hearts of nearly every lady who’d come to the lecture. He’d be a tough act to follow.
    From the applause, Charlotte guessed the ladies would have liked to hear more, but Lewis bowed and the hardware store owner stepped forward to introduce her. Her stomach jiggled like unmolded gelatin as the man explained she was a graduate of Fannie Farmer’s School of Cookery and would now delight them with her culinary skills, using the marvels of the gas range.
    “Welcome, ladies. Thank you all for coming.” Charlotte flashed her best smile to the crowd. “I know all of you work very hard. How would you like to have at least an hour of your day to do as you wish?”
    The ladies murmured their agreement. Charlotte grinned. She had their attention, but a glance at Kathleen told her that girl was waiting for a moment to stir up trouble.
    “Do you realize it takes at least an hour a day to care for your wood- or coal-burning stove—checking the flues, adding wood or coal, removing ashes, and blacking it? With the gas range, you can avoid all of that and save even more time during meal preparation.”
    She looked at Molly, who nodded her support.
    Kathleen shoved her way to the front row and raised her hand. “But gas is so expensive.”
    “It can be if you don’t use it economically.” Charlotte steppedtoward the table where her supplies lay arranged. “If used wisely, it’s the cleanest, cheapest, and most efficient fuel known—and best of all, it’s fast. It’s ready without delay at the touch of a match. No more waiting for the fire to get started.”
    Charlotte paused until the murmuring between the ladies subsided. She explained a few aspects of scientific cookery and the need to use standard measures, then presented the menu for the day—cream of lima bean soup, graham muffins, broiled