Her gaze rose to the ceiling. With the kissing parts added in too, if God didn't mind too much.
Mrs. North and another woman stood working side by side. The younger woman looked to be glazing a ham, while Mrs. North peeled potatoes. The bits of conversation Kizzie heard involved some story about runaway sheep, some angry bees, and Mrs. North meeting her husband.
“Well, Miss Kizzie.” Mrs. North welcomed her in with a smile. “Are you going mad stuck in this house all day?”
“No, ma'am. With the number of books y'all have in your library, I think it could be a while before I get too restless.” She waved toward their work. “But I'd like to help here, if you need another hand.”
“Far be it from us to ever turn down help.” Mrs. North gestured with her paring knife to a nearby bowl. “I imagine Mrs. Candler wouldn't mind you kneading out the dough for biscuits, would you, Mrs. Candler?”
“Pleased to have you.” Mrs. Candler's accent sounded much more familiar.
Kizzie slipped into the familiar work, thankful for the task and conversation, though she listened much more than she talked. The women talked a little about Mrs. North's upbringing in Scotland and how her grandfather had been a long-time servant of the English Lewises before she was recommended to take up service with them when they moved to America a generation ago.
Kizzie couldn't fathom traveling across an entire ocean. Moving over a couple mountains seemed big enough.
“So I've been a part of the current Mrs. Lewis’ life since she married Mr. Lewis, and have seen all the children raised.” Mrs. North directed her words at Kizzie.
“And did your husband come from Scotland too?”
Her smile grew. “I met him within five years of living in America, back when the Lewises lived in Virginia. He's a blacksmith. Mrs. Lewis convinced her husband to allow the marriage despite his reservations about having married staff, and for that, I am forever in her debt, because it's allowed Caleb and me to live in a way we wouldn't have with only one income.”
“And allowed her to send her children to college, even,” Mrs. Candler added.
“College?” Kizzie arranged the dough circles on the pan. “Now that's something, for sure.”
Mrs. North preened at the praise. “Am right proud to say one of my sons has become a doctor and the other a lawyer. The youngest, the lawyer, lives here in The Hollows. It's his sons who are out helping Mr. Noah this morning.” She shook her head and stirred a pot on the stove. “Heaven knows, Mr. Noah could use all the help he can get with trying to manage this house and the mill.”
“Doesn't his brother help?”
The women exchanged a glance before Mrs. North returned her attention to Kizzie. “With the mill losing workers, Mr. Noah's taken on more and more of the work while his brother travels to nearby towns and gets his new house ready for his new wife.”
“Or causes trouble with other people's wives.”
“Joyce!” Mrs. North shot the younger woman a look.
George Lewis certainly carried quite the reputation.
“What about the sister?” Kizzie surveyed each woman. “Is she near enough to help?”
“No, unfortunately, she's not.” Mrs. North's tone ended any further questions on the subject.
“And what brings you to The Hollows, Miss Kizzie?” Mrs. Candler asked, softening the moment with a gentle smile. “You got friends here?”
How to answer without giving too much of her story away? “Mrs. Carter is expecting me.”
Yes, accurate and vague. Folks would learn about her past soon enough, but she'd prefer to keep things private for as long as possible, hopefully long enough to build a reputation to help offset her past a little.
“Mrs. Gayle Carter? The owner of the general store?” Mrs. North asked.
Before Kizzie could answer, a thud struck one of the windows.
“What in the world?” came Mrs. North's exclamation as she stopped her work and moved to the window.
Another thud sounded, and then a shout.
Kizzie followed her, with Mrs. Candler close behind.
Two boys ran through the wintry yard, stopping only long enough to gather up snowballs to throw behind them. The elder's aim proved more accurate than the youngest's, whose next launch hit the front porch column, just visible from the kitchen window.
