Kelly's Chance (14 page)

With Mike’s encouragement over the last few days, she’d done several more charcoal drawings, always out of Papa’s sight.

“Get up there,” Kelly said as she coaxed the mules to get going. They moved forward, and she turned to wave at Mike one last time. She didn’t know why she should feel so sad. She’d see him again, probably on their return trip from Easton.

They’d only traveled a short ways when Papa signaled her to stop. They were between towns, and no other boats were around. She had a sinking feeling her dad was up to something. Something he’d done a few times before when he’d lost time due to bad weather or some kind of mishap along the way.

Sure enough, within minutes of their stopping, Papa had begun to shovel coal out of the compartment where it was stored and was dumping it into the canal. He did this to lighten their load, which in turn would help the boat move faster. Of course, it also meant Kelly would be expected to keep the mules moving at a quicker pace.

She shook her head in disgust. “I don’t see why Papa has to be so dishonest.”

Hector brayed loudly, as though he agreed.

“It’s not fair for him to expect the three of us to walk faster,” she continued to fume. “It’s hard enough to walk at a regular pace, what with the mud and all, but now we’ll practically have to run.”

Kelly’s thoughts took her back to what Mike had told her the other morning in his barn. He’d said they needed to pray for Kelly’s dad and set him a good example. That was a tall order—especially since Papa seemed determined to be ornery and didn’t think twice about cheating someone. She knew from experience that, shortly before they arrived in Easton to deliver their load, Papa would wet the coal down, making it weigh more. Since he was paid by weight and not by the amount, no one would be any the wiser.

She sighed deeply and turned her head away from the canal. There was no use watching what she couldn’t prevent happening. Someday, maybe she wouldn’t have to watch it at all.

***

For the next several weeks, Kelly trudged up and down the towpath between Easton and Mauch Chunk, but they made no stops that weren’t absolutely necessary. Papa said they’d lost enough time, and he didn’t think they needed to dally. When Mama complained about needing fresh vegetables, Papa solved the problem by turning the tiller over to her. Then he jumped off the boat and helped himself to some carrots and beets growing near the towpath. The garden belonged to someone who lived nearby, but Papa didn’t care. He said if the people who’d planted the vegetables so close to the canal didn’t want folks helping themselves, they ought to have fenced in their crops.

Kelly had been praying for Papa, like Mike suggested, but it seemed the more she prayed, the worse he became. The effort appeared to be futile, and she had about decided to give up praying or even hoping Papa might ever change.

That morning at breakfast, Mama had asked Papa if they could stop at Mike’s store later in the afternoon. She needed more washing soap, some thread, flour for baking, and a few other things she couldn’t get by without. After a few choice words, Papa had finally agreed, but now, as they neared the spot in front of Cooper’s General Store, Kelly wondered if he might change his mind. His face was a mask of anger, but he signaled her to stop.

She breathed a sigh of relief and halted the mules. At last she could see Mike again and ask if any of her pictures had sold. She didn’t have more to give him. She’d been too busy during the days to draw, and at night, she was too tuckered out. At the rate things were going, Kelly doubted she’d ever get the chance to earn enough money to buy any store-bought paint, much less to open an art gallery.

“A dream. That’s all it is,” she mumbled moments before Mama joined her to head for the store.

***

Mike stood behind the front counter, praying and hoping Kelly would stop by his store soon. He’d just sold another one of her paintings, and he could hardly wait to tell her the good news. It had been two whole weeks since he’d spoken with her, although he had seen the McGregors’ boat go by on several occasions. Each time, he’d had customers in the store, or else he would have dashed outside and tried to speak with Kelly—although it probably would have meant running along the towpath as they conversed, for that’s pretty much what it looked like Kelly had been doing. Her dad was most likely trying to make up for all the time he’d lost during the storm, but Mike hated to see Kelly being pushed so hard. It wasn’t right for a young woman to work from sunup to sunset without getting paid.

Mike was pleasantly surprised when the front door opened and in walked Dorrie and Kelly McGregor. They both looked tired, but Kelly’s face showed more than fatigue. Her dark eyes had lost their sparkle, and her shoulders were slumped. She looked defeated.

Mike smiled at the two women. “It’s good to see you. Is there something I can help you with?”

Dorrie waved a hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. I can get whatever I’m needin’.” She marched off in the direction of the sewing notions.

Kelly hung back, and she lifted her gaze to the wall where her artwork was displayed.

“I sold another picture this morning,” Mike announced.

“That’s good,” she said with little feeling. “Sorry I don’t have any more to give you right now. There’s been no time for drawin’ or paintin’ here of late.”

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I’m sure you’ll find some free time soon.”

She scowled at him. “Why do you always say things like that?”

“Like what?”

“You try to make me think things are gonna get better when they’re not.”

“How do you know they’re not?”

“I just do, that’s all.”

Mike blew out his breath. It was obvious nothing he said would penetrate her negative attitude this afternoon. He offered up a quick prayer.
Lord, give me the right words.

“Would it help if I had a talk with your dad?”

Kelly looked horrified. “Don’t you dare! Papa would be furious if he knew I’d been complaining.” She squared her shoulders. “I’ll be fine, so there’s no reason to concern yourself.”

“But I am concerned. I’m in—” Mike stopped himself before he blurted out that he was in love with her. He knew it would be the worst thing he could say to Kelly right now. Besides the fact that she was in a sour mood and would probably not appreciate his declaration of love, her mother was in the store and might be listening to his every word.

Mike moved over to the candy counter. “How about a bag of lemon drops? I’m sure you’re out of them by now.”

Kelly’s frown faded, and she joined him at the counter. “Since I sold a painting and have some money comin’, I’ll take two bags of candy—one lemon drops, and the other horehounds.”

“I didn’t know you fancied horehounds.”

“I don’t, but Papa likes ’em. Maybe it’ll help put him in a better mood.”

So she was trying to set a good example for her dad. At least one of Mike’s prayers was being answered. If Kelly’s dad found the Lord, then Kelly might be more receptive to the idea of marriage.

Mike reached into the container of horehound drops with a wooden scoop. “You think you might be stopping over come Sunday?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “If we make it to Mauch Chunk in good time, Papa might be willin’ to stop on our way back. Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to take you on another picnic.” He grinned at her. “Only this time it’ll be just you and me.”

She tipped her head to one side. “No Betsy Nelson?”

“Nope.”

She smiled for the first time since she’d come into the store. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

***

When Mike asked Kelly about going on another picnic, she never expected her family’s canal boat would be stopped in front of his store the next Sunday. They’d arrived the evening before, and Papa had decided to spend the night so he could work on the boat the following morning. He’d accidentally run into one of the other canal boats and put a hole in the bow of his boat. It wasn’t large, and it was high enough that no water had leaked in, but it still needed to be repaired before it got any worse. Papa would be busy with that all day, which meant Kelly could head off with Mike and probably go unnoticed.

Not wishing to run into Betsy again, Kelly waited until the crowd had dispersed from Reverend Nelson’s outdoor preaching service before she walked to Mike’s store. They’d talked briefly the night before and had agreed to meet sometime after noon in front of his place.

It was a hot summer day in late August, and Kelly wished she and Mike could go swimming in the canal to get cooled off. She dismissed the idea as quickly as it popped into her mind when she remembered Mike had said he didn’t swim well, and she, though able to swim, was afraid of water snakes. They would have to find some other way to find solace from the oppressive heat and humidity.

Mike was waiting for her in front of the store, a picnic basket in one hand and a blanket in the other. “Did you bring along your drawing tablet?” he asked.

She nodded and patted the pocket of her long gingham skirt.

“I thought we’d have our picnic at the pond behind Zach Miller’s house. There’s lots of wildflowers growing there, and maybe we can find some to brew into watercolors,” he said, offering Kelly a smile that made her skin tingle despite the heat of the day.

“That would be good. Mama’s runnin’ low on carrots and beets, so I haven’t been able to make any colors for a spell, other than the shades I’ve gotten from leftover coffee and tree bark.”

Mike whistled as they walked up the towpath, heading in the direction of the lock tender’s house.

“You seem to be in an awful good mood this afternoon,” Kelly noted.

He turned his head and grinned at her. “I’m always in fine spirits on the Lord’s day. I looked for you at the preaching service but didn’t see you anywhere.”

“Mama needed my help with some bakin’.” Kelly felt a prick of her conscience. She had helped her mother bake oatmeal bread, but truth be told, that wasn’t the real reason she hadn’t attended the church service. She didn’t want to hear God’s Word and be reminded that her prayers weren’t being answered where Papa was concerned. Besides, Mama hadn’t attended church, either, and if she didn’t feel the need to go, why should Kelly?

“Sure wish you could have heard the great message the reverend delivered this morning. It was a real inspiration.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“Summer will be over soon,” Mike said, changing the subject. “Won’t be long until the leaves begin to turn and drop from the trees.”

Kelly nodded, feeling suddenly sad. When fall came, they’d only have a few months left to make coal deliveries. Winter often hit quickly, and Papa always moored the boat for the winter and moved them to Flannigan’s Boardinghouse in Easton, where they would live until the spring thaw. That meant Kelly wouldn’t be seeing Mike for several months. She would miss his smiling face and their long talks.

A lot could happen in three months. Mike and Betsy might start courting and could even be married by the time they returned to the canal. And Kelly was acutely aware that lots of coal was now being hauled via steam train, which meant fewer boats were working the canals in eastern Pennsylvania. How long would it be before Papa gave up canaling altogether and took a year-round job in the city?

“A lemon drop for your thoughts,” Mike said.

“What?”

“I brought along a bag of your favorite candy, and I’d gladly give you one if you’re willin’ to share your thoughts with me.”

She snickered. “I doubt anything I’d be thinkin’ would be worth even one lemon drop.”

Mike stopped walking and turned to face her. “Don’t say that, Kelly. You’re a talented, intelligent woman, and I value anything you might have to say.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure ’bout my talents, but one thing I do know—I’m not smart. I’ve only gone through the eighth grade, and that took me longer than most, ’cause I just attended school during the winter.”

“A lack of education doesn’t mean you’re stupid,” Mike said with a note of conviction. “My dad used to say he graduated from the school of life and that all the things he learned helped him become a better man. We grow from our experiences, so if we learn from our mistakes, then we’re smart.”

Kelly contemplated Mike’s words a few seconds. “Hmm ... I’ve never thought about it that way before.”

“I hope to have a whole passel of kids someday, and when I do, I want to teach them responsibility so they can work hard and be smart where it really counts.”

Kelly wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that, but she chose not to comment.

Mike started walking again, and Kelly did as well. Soon they were at the pond behind the Millers’ house. Nobody else was around, so Kelly figured they weren’t likely to be interrupted, and she might even get some serious drawing done.

***

Sitting on the blanket next to Kelly, his belly full of fried chicken and buttermilk biscuits, Mike felt content. He could spend the rest of his life with this woman—watching her draw, listening to the hum of her sweet voice, and kissing away all her worries and cares. Should he tell her what he was feeling? Would it scare her off? He drew in a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Kelly, I was wondering—”

“Yes?” she murmured as she continued to draw the outline of a clump of wildflowers.

“Would it be all right if I wrote to you while you’re living in the city this winter?”

She turned her head to look at him. Her dark eyes looked ever so serious, but she was smiling. “I’d like that.”

“And will you write me in return?” he asked hopefully.

She nodded. “If I’m not kept too busy with my factory job.”

“Do you know where you’ll be working?”

“Not yet, but I’ll be eighteen on January 5, and I’m gettin’ stronger every year. I can probably get a job at most any of the factories. Even the ones where the work is heavy or dangerous.”

Mike’s heart clenched. “Please don’t take a job that might put you in danger. I couldn’t stand it if something were to happen to you, Kelly.”