Charlie appeared to enjoy the engagement of the other children. Since he'd grown enough to sit up when propped against something, he could watch the toddlers and other children's antics. And though the additional work with the ten small ones who were too young for school or the mill offered Kizzie a sense of service for those women bringing in the most money they'd ever gotten, her body ached. She'd even gotten sick a few mornings before taking off to the mill and wondered if breathing in some of the fibers didn't sit well with her.
Or maybe she was overworking herself.
Tending the store and keeping the books became her more restful days, where she could ease into her schedule, enjoy alone time with Charlie, and befriend more residents of The Hollows.
But watching the women she'd grown to care for gain confidence and friendships through not only working in the mill but also managing their own little houses cultivated a deeper burden for other people like them.
Some of the women had even found themselves objects of admiration by a few of the younger men. In fact, Noah's servant, Case, couldn't keep his eyes off Molly anytime they were in the same place together.
Noah praised the progress. Having the children out of the machines seemed to lighten some of his worry, especially since he already had to live beneath the precarious whim of a volatile personality. Though Noah commented that George had seemed more subdued and less snappish over the past few days.
Perhaps seeing Noah's work and the ladies’ willingness to serve the children with minimal pay humbled him?
Could he possibly be regretting his choices? Kizzie could only hope that the same change the women continued to show made its way to George, for his own sake, but also for his mother and brother. Repentance was beautiful to behold, much like the early spring flowers taking advantage of the warmer late-February days.
Though a part of her wondered if Granny's old adage about the calm before a storm was true.
After a month, Noah's plan to move the children to the empty schoolhouse turned into a reality, removing the children from the noise and polluted air of the mill. Once the new childcare spot was secured, Mrs. Carter wrangled in some helpers from the ladies’ group at church, inspiring them to serve the Lord through ministry to children, which meant Kizzie's shifts reduced to only two half days, giving her enough time to get back to reconciling the books Mrs. Carter had left in disarray.
The few quiet moments Kizzie had with Noah at their Saturday afternoon meals usually included talk of changes to the mill or for the children, though he had succeeded in teaching her to play chess over the last month.
A little.
He soundly beat her every time, but she was improving.
It was a thinking game. She liked those.
And recently, when he returned her to the shop, he'd lingered a little longer, playing with Charlie or teasing Mrs. Carter. Just being near.
Like he wasn't quite ready to leave Kizzie and Charlie just yet.
Kizzie couldn't hold back her grin as she took the path to the store from the bank. Could it be true? She turned her gaze heavenward and offered God one of her biggest smiles, and since He saw her heart already, He knew how grateful she was at even the possibility of someone like Noah Lewis waiting around to spend time with her.
And her little boy.
She sighed and adjusted the belt of her skirt, which fitted more tightly over the past few weeks. Perhaps she needed to refrain from joining Mrs. Carter at Lola's restaurant so often, but the fried chicken tasted so much like Mama's, Kizzie could never get enough. And Charlie loved the mashed sweet potatoes, or any type of potato. Pudding brought out his dimples too.
She'd just turned the corner to her street when someone grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the shadow of the building. With a step back to break contact, she looked up into the face of Cole Morgan.
Charles’ cousin.
The man she'd shot.
“I thought that was you, Kizzie McAdams.” He stuck out his hand. The pinkie finger was missing. “How ’bout we greet each other with a proper handshake, likefriends.“
Kizzie pulled her purse against her chest and readied herself for … well, she wasn't sure what he might do, but thankfully, they were in the middle of town in broad daylight, so that helped. “I don't recall us ever being friends, Cole Morgan.”
“Well, that would explain the little surprise you gave me then, wouldn't it?” He wiggled his fingers. “Charles was good enough to let me know ’bout you bein’ the only one in that house, so I reckon you're the one who gave me this gift.”
“I think your gifts were just as friendly.”
A ruthless grin curled his lips in a slow movement from one corner of his mouth to the other until his sun-leathered face wrinkled in an unwelcome way. “Same ol’ Kizzie McAdams, ’cept all fancied up now, are you? I didn't expect to see anyone I knowed in these parts, but when I caught sight of you walkin’ down the street as if you was one of them fancy ladies, I barely recognized you at first.” He took a step closer. “But it's hard not to remember a face like yours.”
She retreated another step from him, thinking of how to get by him.
“You got yourself a new man in this town?” She made an attempt to sidestep him, but he moved to stop her. “I reckon that means no.” He ran a hand over his chin, tilting his head to give her another look. “Still pining over my cousin, are you? Well, you better give up that dream, darlin’, ’cause he's done got hisself engaged.”
Kizzie's body went completely still. Charles was engaged. In a little over three months since last she saw him, he was engaged.
