Just Above a Whisper (40 page)

“I was going to ask you about your belief in Christ.”

Reese looked away from him.

“It might be better in the dark,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“I don’t think so,” Conner disagreed, and then let the silence fall. It was growing dark fast, and Reese knew she should get inside.

“I’ll be back,” Conner said as he stood. “Maybe tomorrow night or Wednesday. Will that work out for you?”

“Yes. I’m free both nights.”

“Maybe I’ll be back both nights,” Conner suggested with a smile, put his hat on his head, and walked into the dusk.

Reese stood and watched him until he was out of sight. It had been wonderful to sit and talk, and Reese wondered if that might be another area of her life where she’d missed out.

As she walked inside, she remembered that Tucker Mills was not Conner’s home. He was not here to stay. Reese didn’t let herself think about what life would be like when he and Troy left town.

“How is Reese Thackery this evening?” Troy asked when Conner returned to the big house.

“Did I say I was going to see Reese?”

“Well, you didn’t go to the tavern,” Troy began, “and if you’d been at the Muldoons’, you would have said so. So that leaves one other place in town.”

Conner smiled but didn’t answer. Troy didn’t press him. Had Dalton been in the room, he might have, but the older man knew when to let things be.

“Mrs. Greenlowe wants you to come to tea this evening,” Reese told Conner on Tuesday morning. “But don’t feel like you have to.”

“Why would I feel that way?”

“For the obvious reasons,” Reese stated.

“Which are?” Conner was still not getting it.

“When a person is asked over, he feels a certain obligation to the person asking. You don’t know Mrs. Greenlowe, so you might be even more afraid of offending her by saying no.”

Conner was taken with her logic and nodded thoughtfully. He forgot there was a question to be answered.

“I’ll just tell her it didn’t work out for you,” Reese put in next.

“Don’t do that,” Conner was swift to say, realizing what he’d missed. “I’d be pleased to come. What time?”

“Five-thirty.”

“I’ll be there.”

“All right, but only if you want to.”

Conner nodded, seeing she was not convinced.

“Five-thirty it is.”

Reese watched him for just a moment and then went back to work. It wasn’t like her to worry about such things, but her conversation with Mrs. Greenlowe was still fresh in her mind.

Is he sweet on you?

No, it’s not like that
.

How do you know?

I just do
.

He needs to come to tea, and I’ll see for myself
.

We don’t need to do that
.

You ask him in the morning. I’ll expect him tomorrow night
.

Reese had tried to argue, but it had done no good. Her landlady had made up her mind and was going to have her way on this. And Reese didn’t mind his coming—she enjoyed his company. She just didn’t want him arriving out of obligation.

Reese pushed the whole event out of her mind. Conner Kingsley was not the type of person who let people manipulate him. He was coming because he wanted to. Arranging the tin kitchen that held today’s roast closer to the fireplace, Reese asked herself how often she would have to say it before she believed.

“How many more files do you have to research?” Dalton asked Conner and Troy.

“We’re nearly done,” Conner explained. “If it weren’t for this issue with Mr. Jenness, we would be back in Linden Heights in just a few weeks.”

“And what of Mr. Leffler? Can he take over for Mr. Jenness, who by all accounts has deserted his post and in effect terminated himself?”

“He’s perfectly happy as a teller,” Troy informed Dalton. “He doesn’t want the job of bank manager. If we don’t stay, someone will need to be hired.”

“Are you interested in staying?” Dalton asked of Troy.

“I like Tucker Mills,” Troy said. “It’s a bit far from my girls, but from a business standpoint, it works very well.”

“And you, Conner?” Dalton asked next.

“I could live out my days in Tucker Mills, but that begs the question about who will be in charge at our bank in Linden Heights,” Conner responded, referring to the bank that he and Troy managed. “We’ve got an excellent staff there, but the distance could be a factor.”

“But someone from the main bank could always step in,” Troy inserted, not ready to leave town. “You checked before you came, Dalton, and said it was going very well.”

“It is. You’ve got a treasure in Morris Rane. He’s dedicated and completely honest.”

“And he would manage things indefinitely,” Conner added. “When Mother was dying, he was invaluable to Troy.”

“That he was.” Troy remembered it well. Conner had been forced to leave the bank for more than two months.

“I leave Friday,” Dalton said next. “I don’t have to know what we’re going to do—you can always put it in a letter—but if we could have some idea in the next 24 hours, I would be glad of that.”

“I’m not sure exactly how to go about it,” Conner admitted. “Deserting his post or not, Mr. Jenness needs to make another appearance. If I could make that happen, I would be ready with several suggestions for this bank.”

“All right,” Dalton agreed, his mind busy. “If Mr. Jenness should appear before I leave, fine. If not, I’d still like to hear those suggestions no later than Thursday at tea.”

Conner and Troy agreed. It wasn’t fair to all involved to leave the situation in limbo. Whether there was an appearance from Mr. Jenness or not, bank business had to go on.

Doyle closed up the shop on Tuesday evening, his movements slow. He wasn’t feeling poorly; indeed, he’d never felt better, but he had prayed with Jace two days before and still didn’t know how to tell Cathy about the change in him.

And there was a change. Cathy had already noticed and commented on his good humor and color. Doyle knew that his demeanor before praying with Jace was that of a man getting old or ill, so her comments were no surprise. However, he still had not had the courage to tell her the real reason. She had become so agitated whenever he’d mentioned his fear of dying.

I need help, Lord God
, Doyle prayed, closing the door behind him and heading toward the house.
I want my relationship with Cathy to be as good as it’s always been, but I’m doing what Jace warned me about: I’m coming to You with my own terms. Help me, Lord God. Please help me
.

Doyle was at the door of his house before he knew what he was going to say, but he determined to find a way to tell her of the decision he’d made before bedtime.

For Conner, Tuesday evening took much longer than a day to arrive. From the moment Reese had asked him, even knowing the invitation was from Mrs. Greenlowe, Conner thought about it.

He couldn’t tell what Reese thought of him, but each time they spoke, she was a little more open, a little more relaxed around him. Conner knew he might be headed for heartache but took Reese’s demeanor around him as a good sign.

All of this and more was on his mind as the day ended and he walked home with Troy and Dalton. He planned to clean up a bit and head right back out. What he hadn’t banked on was his housemates’ reaction.

“I’ll see you later,” Conner stuck his head in the dining room long enough to say.

“Where are you going?” Dalton asked.

“I’ve been invited to tea at Mrs. Greenlowe’s.”

“The Mrs. Greenlowe who is Reese Thackery’s landlady?” Dalton clarified.

“The very one.”

“Why were Troy and I not informed of this?” Dalton asked.

“Did you need to be informed?” Conner came back, his face calm and a little amused.

“Come now, Conner,” Troy spoke up. “You know that Dalton is even more curious than you are.”

“True,” Conner agreed and began to turn away. “Have a good evening.”

“Wait a minute.” Dalton was on his feet, Troy not far behind. They caught up with Conner in the hallway. “Who invited you? Reese?”

“As a matter of fact, the invitation came from Mrs. Greenlowe.”

“But Reese will be there, right?” Dalton had to know the details.

“I imagine so.”

“Is this the best coat you have?” Dalton asked suddenly circling his brother, his eyes critical. “Maybe you should change.”