Love in Independence (Holiday Mail Order Brides) by Kit Morgan Page B

totally flabbergasted at this point.
    “That you were helping Mr. Smythe prep the deceased for burial,” he stated with a wave of his hand.
    She stared at him a moment, before the cackling started. She couldn’t help herself ; the absurdity of it hit all at once, and then she remembered the conversation she’d had with him earlier. It all made sense now.  Mr. Smythe must be the town undertaker.
    “How can you laugh at a time like this?” screeched Mrs. Brock.
    “Mrs. Caulder wil l be fine,” assured Pastor Luke.
    As if to confirm the statement, Mrs. Caulder moaned. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at the faces of those around her. “Mercy me! What happened?”
    “You fainted,” Mrs. Peatman told her. “But you’re all right now.”
    “She is not all right; none of us is all right!” Mrs. Brock announced with a huff.
    “My dear Mrs. Brock,” Pastor Luke said with what sounded like an extra dose of patience. “Let us move on. Everything’s fine.” He held out his hands to Mrs. Caulder and helped her to her feet. She stood, took one look at Winnie and shook her head.
    “I believe there’s been a horrible misunderstanding. I,I,I, I …” Oh drat! She took a deep breath. “I do not handle the … deceased for the Smythes, as you seem to think. I just help out … with whatever is needed. And right now, it’s the town’s Fourth of July celebration.” She let out what little breath she had left, and took another. “Let’s get to work, then, shall we?”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Six
     
       Luke bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. The look on Miss Longfellow’s face was adorable. But it was also obvious she had no idea what they’d been talking about. How could she not realize their assumption? It was no secret that Jonathan Smythe needed help. He prepared the coffins, dug the graves, and got the deceased ready for burial so, of course, he needed help! But from a woman? Yet, he’d heard of stranger things, so why not? Some help was better than none, and perhaps Maude would assist her husband with whatever work didn’t require tremendous amounts of strength, and had brought Miss Longfellow to town to perform some of the other duties. The bookkeeping, for one, and also helping families with the funeral arrangements of the dearly departed.
    He shook his head at how easy it was for a misunderstanding to happen, and come to the wrong conclusion. He looked at her shocked face, his own full of mirth. “Would you like a little help?”
    Winnie was still on the floor. Mrs. Peatman was pulled to her feet by Mrs. Gelsinger. She stared up at him as she sucked in a breath. “Yes, that would be appreciated.”
    He held out his hand, and when she took it, he noticed how soft and small they were in his own. He helped her up, h er hand still in his, and gazed at her. 
    She was no great beauty by any means. Pretty , yes, but she wasn’t a raving beauty like Eva Brock, not by a long shot. But she had a serene gentleness in her eyes, a kindness that could not be denied, and he felt something deep stir within him.
    “Thank you,” she tol d him as she looked at her hand still locked in his. “I think we’d best get back to work.”
    “Yes,” he said, well aware of the fact that he needed to let go of her, but those eyes …
    She swallowed and looked away, a blush creeping into her cheeks. He took a de ep breath and released her hand. “I’ll stay and help you ladies this time. I should have at least gotten you started. I apologize.”
    “No apology needed , Pastor Luke,” said Mrs. Peatman.
    “Most certainly not,” added Mrs. Brock. “It wasn’t your fault Eunice fainted. It was hers.” She pointed an accusing finger at Miss Longfellow, her lips now pressed into a firm line.
    “She can’t help it, Mother. Stop.” Eva said, speaking up for the first time.
    “Help what?” asked Miss Longfellow.
    Eva looked her up and down. “You’re not from around here,” was all