ahead to Brother Oswald. The red-faced, balding man stood behind the pulpit, his arm swinging rhythmically, encouraging the congregation in song. Esme didn't have much of a singing voice, not like Pa and the twins. But she managed to quietly move her lips to the words, giving the appearance of participating, as she listened to the twins' harmonious altos and her father's boisterous baritone.
The church was a straight square building, only one room with a raised platform across the front. The piano sat on the left, directly against the stage. When the twins were little, they had called it the "yellow church" because the walls were clear varnished knotty pine, and the white pine and spruce furnishings all appeared amazingly yellow when seen in the sunlight coming through the cheap borate glass windows.
As the last strains of song died away, Brother Oswald took the seat left of the raised platform, and Reverend Tewksbury, who had been seated at the right, took his place behind the pulpit. "Let us pray!" the man's voice boomed across the sanctuary as if the congregation were hard of hearing.
Esme bent her head piously and for a couple of moments gave her own silent prayer. Then stealthily she raised her head just enough to glance across the room.
Cleavis sat in his usual seat, second pew on the left, next to his mother. From the back Esme could see the fine material of his Sunday dress suit. His dark brown hair was neatly trimmed at the nape of his neck. Beside him his mother was fashionably gowned in a black silk with a smart little hat tied neatly under her chin. Mrs. Rhy always dressed better than any woman in town. And not even the preacher had a store-bought dress coat as fine as Cleav's.
Unexpectedly her gaze continued past Cleavis to the young woman seated primly on the piano bench. Sophrona Tewksbury had removed her tiny little white bonnet and placed it beside her. Her dark, flame-colored hair was beautifully coiffed. Redheads look pasty and freckle too much, Esme silently reminded herself, though the pianist's fashionable hourglass figure was undoubtedly much admired by every gentleman of the congregation. Assessing the young woman's rigidly straight back, Esme was sure that Sophrona's waist must be no less than a foot and a half smaller than her bodice and hips!
"Only cows have bigger teats," Esme reminded herself unkindly. "And her backside is half bustle if I don't miss my guess!"
However the beautiful plum brocade and satin gown she wore was not so easily waved away. Fine materials and Sophrona's skill as a seamstress enhanced her abundant assets.
Esme lowered her head again and studied the worn gray serge that covered her lap and limbs. She ran a hand along the material, testing its strength. There was little serviceability left in the fabric. And it hadn't helped that she'd worn this, her best dress, nearly every day since her decision to court Cleavis.
Clothes had never been an important item for Esme, and when dress material or hand-me-downs turned up at the house, she just naturally gave them to the twins. The two beauties loved pretty things, and a dress made for one fit perfectly enough to share with the other. Usually this pleased the economically minded Esme. Glancing over at her sisters today, one dressed in pink-dotted calico and the other in blue gingham, Esme wished that she'd thought of having something pretty for herself.
The "amen" was shouted and heads were raised. Esme couldn't keep her glance from seeking Cleav. She caught his eye and smiled sweetly. With an appalled expression he immediately turned his attention to the preacher.
Brother Oswald led another hymn and Esme kept her attention focused intently on Cleav. This time he never so much as twitched in her direction, but he knew Esme was looking at him, she decided. That was the only explanation for the bright red hue that crept down his neck. Esme hoped he was thinking about her skinny legs at that exact moment.
Reverend Tewksbury
The church was a straight square building, only one room with a raised platform across the front. The piano sat on the left, directly against the stage. When the twins were little, they had called it the "yellow church" because the walls were clear varnished knotty pine, and the white pine and spruce furnishings all appeared amazingly yellow when seen in the sunlight coming through the cheap borate glass windows.
As the last strains of song died away, Brother Oswald took the seat left of the raised platform, and Reverend Tewksbury, who had been seated at the right, took his place behind the pulpit. "Let us pray!" the man's voice boomed across the sanctuary as if the congregation were hard of hearing.
Esme bent her head piously and for a couple of moments gave her own silent prayer. Then stealthily she raised her head just enough to glance across the room.
Cleavis sat in his usual seat, second pew on the left, next to his mother. From the back Esme could see the fine material of his Sunday dress suit. His dark brown hair was neatly trimmed at the nape of his neck. Beside him his mother was fashionably gowned in a black silk with a smart little hat tied neatly under her chin. Mrs. Rhy always dressed better than any woman in town. And not even the preacher had a store-bought dress coat as fine as Cleav's.
Unexpectedly her gaze continued past Cleavis to the young woman seated primly on the piano bench. Sophrona Tewksbury had removed her tiny little white bonnet and placed it beside her. Her dark, flame-colored hair was beautifully coiffed. Redheads look pasty and freckle too much, Esme silently reminded herself, though the pianist's fashionable hourglass figure was undoubtedly much admired by every gentleman of the congregation. Assessing the young woman's rigidly straight back, Esme was sure that Sophrona's waist must be no less than a foot and a half smaller than her bodice and hips!
"Only cows have bigger teats," Esme reminded herself unkindly. "And her backside is half bustle if I don't miss my guess!"
However the beautiful plum brocade and satin gown she wore was not so easily waved away. Fine materials and Sophrona's skill as a seamstress enhanced her abundant assets.
Esme lowered her head again and studied the worn gray serge that covered her lap and limbs. She ran a hand along the material, testing its strength. There was little serviceability left in the fabric. And it hadn't helped that she'd worn this, her best dress, nearly every day since her decision to court Cleavis.
Clothes had never been an important item for Esme, and when dress material or hand-me-downs turned up at the house, she just naturally gave them to the twins. The two beauties loved pretty things, and a dress made for one fit perfectly enough to share with the other. Usually this pleased the economically minded Esme. Glancing over at her sisters today, one dressed in pink-dotted calico and the other in blue gingham, Esme wished that she'd thought of having something pretty for herself.
The "amen" was shouted and heads were raised. Esme couldn't keep her glance from seeking Cleav. She caught his eye and smiled sweetly. With an appalled expression he immediately turned his attention to the preacher.
Brother Oswald led another hymn and Esme kept her attention focused intently on Cleav. This time he never so much as twitched in her direction, but he knew Esme was looking at him, she decided. That was the only explanation for the bright red hue that crept down his neck. Esme hoped he was thinking about her skinny legs at that exact moment.
Reverend Tewksbury
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