Kelly's Chance (6 page)

“Come in, Mr. Cooper—I mean, Mike,” she said sweetly. “Supper is ready, so let me take your coat.”

Mike stepped inside the small, cozy parsonage and slipped off his jacket. He was about to hand it to Betsy when he remembered the picture he’d rolled up and put inside his pocket. He retrieved it and handed the drawing to Betsy. “Happy birthday.”

Betsy smiled and unrolled the picture. She studied it a few seconds, and her forehead creased as she squinted her eyes. “This isn’t one of those drawings young Kelly McGregor drew, is it?”

Mike nodded. “I thought you might like it, seeing as how there are children in the picture.”

Her frown deepened. “What makes you think I have a fondness for children?”

“Well, I ... that is, doesn’t everyone have a soft spot for little ones?” Mike thought about his desire to have a large family, and he remembered reading how Jesus had taken time to visit with children. It only seemed natural for a preacher’s daughter to like kids.

Betsy scrunched up her nose, as though some foul odor had permeated the room. “Children are sometimes hard to handle, and I don’t envy anyone who’s a parent.” She batted her eyelashes a few times. “I get along better with adults.”

Mike wondered if there was something in Betsy’s eye. Or maybe she had trouble seeing and needed a pair of spectacles.

“Do you like Kelly’s charcoal drawing or not?” he asked.

Betsy glanced at the picture in her hand. “I’ll find a place for it, since you were thoughtful enough to bring me a present.”

Mike drew in a deep breath and followed Betsy into the next room, where a table was set for three. Preacher Nelson stood in front of the fireplace, and he smiled at Mike.

“Good to see you, son. Glad you could make it tonight.”

Mike nodded and forced a smile in return. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening, and he could hardly wait for it to come to an end.

***

Kelly plodded along the towpath, tired from another long day, and feeling frustrated because they’d passed Mike’s store without stopping. It was getting dark by the time they got to that section of the navigation system, and she hadn’t seen any lights in the store windows. Maybe Mike was closed for the day.

It had been less than a week since Kelly had left three of her drawings with him. Chances were none of them had sold yet. By the time they did stop at Cooper’s General Store, Kelly thought she would have a few more drawings to give Mike, and hopefully he’d have good news about the ones he was trying to sell. In the meantime, Kelly knew she needed to be patient.

“Patient and determined,” she muttered into the night air. The moon was full, and Kelly could see some distance ahead. They were coming to another lock, and Papa was already blowing on his conch shell to announce their arrival to the lock tender.

Kelly looked forward to each lock they went through. It gave her a chance to rest, tend to the mules, or draw.

She patted her apron pocket.
That’s why I keep my tablet and a hunk of charcoal with me most of the time.

Tonight, however, there were no boats ahead of them, and they went through the lock rather quickly. Kelly wasn’t disappointed. It was too dark to draw anyway, and getting through the lock meant they would soon be on their way.

Kelly was hungry and tired. She could hardly wait to stop for the night. But she didn’t smell the usual aroma of food coming from the boat. It made her wonder if Mama was tired and had decided to serve a cold meal. Maybe cheese and bread, with a piece of fruit or some carrot sticks. Anything would taste good.

When Kelly thought she’d die of hunger and couldn’t take another step, Papa hollered for her to stop. With her dad’s help, Kelly loaded the mules onto the boat, where they would be bedded down in the enclosed area reserved for them. If they’d been at a place where they could have stabled the mules, they wouldn’t have to go through this procedure.

Kelly stretched her limbs with a weary sigh. “What’s Mama got planned for supper, do ya know?”

Papa shook his head. “Your mama ain’t feelin’ well, and she’s taken to her bed. You’ll have to see about supper tonight.”

Kelly felt immediate concern. “Mama’s sick? What’s wrong, and why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Papa shrugged. “Saw no need.”

“But I could’ve come aboard and started supper. Maybe seen if there was somethin’ I could do to make Mama more comfortable.”

Papa grunted. “It’s best you kept on walkin’. I don’t wanna be late picking up my load of coal in Mauch Chunk tomorrow.”

Kelly stared down at her clenched hands as anger churned in her stomach. All Papa cared about was hauling coal and making money he never shared. Didn’t he give a hoot that Mama was sick in bed?

Feeling as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, Kelly headed for their small kitchen. She would get some soup heating on the stove, then go below to see how Mama was doing.

A short time later, Kelly and her dad sat at the kitchen table, eating soup and bread—leftovers from their afternoon meal. Kelly had checked on her mother and found her sleeping. She didn’t have the heart to wake her, so she tiptoed out of her parents’ cubicle with the intention of offering Mama a bowl of soup later on.

“You’d better get to sleep right after ya clean up the dishes,” Papa said. “I’m planning to head out at the first light of day tomorrow mornin’.” He wiped his mouth on the edge of his shirtsleeve. “If your mama’s still feelin’ poorly, you’ll need to get breakfast.”

Kelly watched the flame flicker from the candle in the center of the table. More chores to do. Just what she didn’t need. She’d better pray extra hard for Mama tonight.

***

Mike had never been so glad to see his humble home. The time he’d spent at the Nelsons’ had left him feeling irritable and exhausted. Didn’t Betsy ever stop talking or batting her eyelashes? Reverend Nelson had acted a bit strange all evening, too. He kept dropping hints about his daughter needing a God-fearing husband, and he’d even asked Mike to sit on the sofa beside Betsy as they drank their coffee after dinner. Maybe the preacher was trying to link Mike up with his daughter, but it wasn’t going to work. Mike had other ideas about who was the right woman for him.

Mike hung his jacket on a wall peg near the door, sank into an overstuffed chair by the stone fireplace, and looked around the room. He really did need someone to help fill his lonely evening hours. He’d been praying for a wife for some time now, but surely Betsy Nelson wasn’t the one God had in mind for him. The woman got on his nerves, with her constant jabbering and opinionated remarks.

“It doesn’t seem as if she likes children, either,” Mike murmured. He didn’t see any way he could be happily married to a woman who didn’t share his desire for a family. Mike saw children as a gift from God, not a nuisance. He’d had customers come into his store who’d done nothing but yell at their kids, shouting orders or scolding them for every little thing.

Mike’s thoughts went immediately to Kelly McGregor. Did she like children? Would Kelly make a good wife? Was she a believer in Christ? Mike knew so little about the young woman. The only thing he was sure of was that he was attracted to her.

I need to figure out some way for us to become better acquainted.
With the McGregors’ canal boat coming by every few days, there ought to be a chance to see Kelly more and get to know her.

Mike closed his eyes, and a few minutes later he fell asleep, dreaming about Kelly McGregor.

***

Kelly stretched her aching limbs and forced herself to sit up. Inky darkness enveloped her room, but Papa was hollering at her to get up. She needed to see if Mama was still ailing, and if so, fix some breakfast. Then she’d have to feed the mules, lead them off the boat, and get ready to head for Mauch Chunk. She hadn’t slept well the night before, and she’d had several dreams—one that involved Mike Cooper.

Why do I think about him so often?
Kelly fumed.
Probably because he has my drawings, and I’m anxious to see if he’s sold any. Yep, that’s all there is to it—nothin’ more.

After Kelly washed up and got dressed, she rolled up her finished drawings and placed them inside her apron pocket, just in case they made a stop at Cooper’s store today. Then she tiptoed over to her folks’ room to check on Mama.

Her mother was awake, but she looked terrible. Dark circles lay beneath her eyes, her skin was pasty white, and her forehead glistened with sweat.

“How are ya feelin’ this mornin’?” Kelly whispered.

Mama lifted her head off the pillow and offered Kelly a weak smile. “I’ll be back on my feet in no time a’tall. It’s just a sore throat, and my body aches some, too.”

Kelly adjusted the patchwork quilt covering her mother’s bed. “I’ll bring you a cup of hot tea and a bowl of cornmeal mush as soon as I get Papa fed. He might be less crabby if his belly is full.”

Mama nodded, coughed, and relaxed against the pillow. “I’m sorry you’re havin’ to do more chores than usual. If Sarah were still here, your load would be a bit lighter.”

Kelly shrugged. She didn’t want to think about her runaway sister. “I’ll manage. You just get well.” She patted the quilt where Mama’s feet were hidden. “I’ll be back soon.”

A short while later, Kelly was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

“What about lunch and supper?” she asked her dad when she handed him a bowl of mush.

His forehead wrinkled. “What about it?”

“If I’m gonna be leadin’ the mules all day, and Mama’s still sick in bed—”

Papa grunted and pulled on the end of his mustache. “Guess that means I’ll be stuck with the cookin’.”

“But how will you do that, watch up ahead, and steer the boat, too?” she questioned.

“I’ll manage somehow. Don’t guess I’ve got much other choice.” He snorted. “If that renegade sister of yours hadn’t run off with Sam Turner, we wouldn’t be shorthanded right now.”

Kelly drew in a deep breath, feeling a bit put out with her sister, too.

Things seemed to go from bad to worse as the day progressed. Kelly kept an eye on the boat, and a couple times she spotted her dad racing back and forth between the woodstove sitting on the open deck and the stern of the boat. He would lift the pot lid and take a look at the beans he was cooking, run back to the stern and give the tiller a twist, and do it all over again. Kelly wondered if he might collapse or run the boat aground from all that rushing around.

When it came time for lunch, Papa gulped down a hasty meal, leaped from the boat to the towpath, and took over leading the mules so Kelly could eat. She did all right getting into the boat, but when she jumped over the side again, she missed her mark and landed in the canal with a splash.

Now she was walking the towpath in a sopping wet skirt that stuck to her legs like a tick on a mule. She’d been forced to remove her boots because they were waterlogged, and she sure hoped no snakes came slithering across the path and nailed her bare feet.

To make matters worse, the drawings she’d put in her pocket that morning had gotten ruined when she fell in the water. Now she had nothing to give Mike if she saw him today.

The only bright spot in Kelly’s day was when Papa told her they would be stopping by Cooper’s General Store later on. He wanted to see if Mike had any cough syrup in stock. Papa thought it might make Mama sleep better if they could get her cough calmed down. Stopping at the store would be good for Mama as well as Kelly. She hoped her dress would be dry by the time they got there.

***

For the past couple of days, Mike had tried unsuccessfully to sell some of Kelly’s drawings. “Isn’t there anyone in the area who can see her talent and needs something special to give as a gift?” he muttered as he studied the two remaining pictures displayed on the wall of his store. Was it possible that Kelly wasn’t as talented as Mike thought? Maybe folks were put off by the simplicity of the paper she used. Maybe he was too caught up in his unexplained feelings for the young woman. He might have been thinking with his heart instead of his head when he’d agreed to try to sell some of her artwork. Now he was going to have to face Kelly when she stopped by the store again and tell her nothing had sold.

That’s not entirely true,
he reminded himself.
I took one of her pictures to give Betsy Nelson, and I plan to pay Kelly her share for it. Maybe I should buy a second picture, then frame it and hang it in my house.
Mike smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction because of his idea. Kelly wouldn’t have to know who’d bought the drawings. She’d probably be happy just getting the money.

With that decided, Mike removed the picture of Kelly’s two mules and stuck it under the front counter. He would take it home when he was done for the day.

Mike pulled out an envelope and wrote Kelly’s name on it. Then he withdrew some money from the cash box and tucked it inside. Hopefully he’d be able to sell her other drawing before Kelly came by the store again.

“I need to get busy and quit thinking about Kelly McGregor,” Mike muttered as he grabbed a broom and started sweeping the floor. Thoughts of the young woman with dark brown eyes and long, coffee-colored hair were consuming too much of his time.

Mike had just put the broom away in the storage closet when the front door opened. He pivoted, and his heartbeat quickened. Kelly McGregor stood there, her straw hat askew, and her long gray skirt, wrinkled, dirty, and damp. She looked a mess, yet he thought she was beautiful.

Mike swallowed hard and moved toward her. “Kelly. It’s good to see you again.”

***

“Hello, Mike Cooper,” Kelly said, feeling timid and unsure of herself.

He smiled, and the dimple in his chin seemed to be winking at her.

She took a tentative step forward. “Mama’s sick and needs some cough syrup. Have ya got any on hand?”

“I think there’s still several bottles on the back shelf.” Mike pointed to the other end of the store. “Would you like me to get one for you?”