Not red, he corrected himself quickly. Ladies do not have red hair, only strawberry-blond.
Stepping into his foyer, he hung his coat on the elaborate wooden hall tree and checked his reflection in the mirror. His hair on his forehead had formed errant curls, and he hastily pushed it back into place. He hesitated only momentarily to run his hand across the fine mahogany finish of the hall tree's umbrella rail. Like every piece of furniture in his house, it had been brought over the mountain for the specific purpose of conveying fashion and good taste.
"Good evening, ladies," Cleav said to the three women as he stepped into the door, but his eyes immediately sought only the lovely Miss Sophrona.
"Cleavis, dear," his mother said. "Finally, you're home. I feared we'd be waiting dinner on you all night."
Cleav didn't need to check his watch to know that it was no more than a quarter after six, his usual time to return from the store.
"I'm here now," he commented agreeably and seated himself in a stuffed horsehair chair, near—but not too near—Miss Sophrona.
"The Reverend Tewksbury has gone to sit up with Miz Latham," his mother continued. "Poor old thing, she's about dead herself, and now her man's took sick."
Cleav nodded with appropriate gravity.
"We, of course, are blessed that dear Mrs. Tewksbury and her precious daughter can therefore spend the evening with us."
"Doubly blessed," Cleav said and then cast a glance at Miss Sophrona, who was blushing prettily.
Unbidden, an image sprang to mind of a long slim leg encased in black wool. He was so surprised at the unexpected and inappropriate image that it must have shown upon his face. Miss Sophrona glanced at him curiously.
Quickly trying to recover himself, Cleav turned to Mrs. Tewksbury. "So what pleasant pursuits have you ladies been discussing? A new quilting pattern, perhaps? Or something more serious, such as ... ah ... the actual versus the symbolic meaning of John's Revelations?"
Mrs. Tewksbury beamed with approval. She was very proud of her deep and sublimely metaphysical understanding of the Bible. In fact, the woman was virtually certain that her husband, Reverend Tewksbury, knew absolutely nothing by comparison.
"Mrs. Rhy and I were just discussing the parable of the twelve virgins and how such careful Christian planning could be translated to charity to the less fortunate of our own community."
Smiling politely, Cleave turned to the attractive strawberry-blonde on the divan. "And Miss Sophrona, what bit of wisdom did you offer to this discussion?"
Lowering her eyes humbly, Sophrona's voice was sweet and almost childlike in its clarity. "'For I was hungry, and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink. I was a stranger, and ye took me in. I was. . .”
Sophrona stopped, her face flaming with color. She glanced toward her mother without uttering another word.
Cleavis realized immediately that Miss Sophrona's hesitance concerned the next line of the verse: "Naked and you clothed me." It was without a doubt not to be spoken by one such as Miss Sophrona. He was sure no one could ever imagine such a thing!
Like a heroic knight for a damsel in distress, Cleav quickly covered the gaffe. "It's interesting that you ladies should be discussing charity this evening. I had a visitor to the store today, sorely in need, I believe."
Grateful for his rescue, Sophrona showed an inordinate excess of interest. "Whoever could it have been?" she asked.
"One of Yohan Crabb's girls," Cleav answered, then he discovered to his surprise that he didn't wish to elaborate.
"One of those twins!" Mrs. Tewksbury shook her head in exasperation and gave Mrs. Rhy a concerned glance. "I don't know whatever we will do with those two."
"No, not one of the twins," Cleav hastily corrected. "The other one, Esme she's called."
"Ah." Mrs. Tewksbury shook her head wisely. "She's a good girl, that one. Must be a throwback to her mother's side of the family."
Eula Rhy's forehead creased into a frown. "I do hope that you haven't allowed them to run up more credit. There is no chance in the world that they would ever pay." Smiling at her guest, Mrs. Rhy added, "Dear Cleavis is so soft-hearted, I swear he'd give away the store if he thought somebody needed it."
Cleav bristled slightly under the criticism. "If folks are hungry, we have to feed them, Mother, that's not even a question for discussion."
"If the Crabbs are hungry," his mother suggested coldly, "it's because that old man won't work. The Bible says the Lord helps those who help themselves."
"Actually, that's not in the Bible," Sophrona corrected gently. "But it does say to 'consider the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin. Yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.'"
Mrs. Rhy was so dumbfounded by the unexpected rebuke that she didn't respond.
"Actually, the young woman didn't ask for anything," he told them. He gave his mother an appeasing glance. "Nonetheless, I clearly let her know that business with her family would have to be on strictly a cash or barter basis."
