Mrs. Tewksbury made a tutting sound and looked gravely at Eula Rhy. The preacher was flushed with embarrassment and silence reigned for a full minute or longer.
"Sophrona honey," Mrs. Tewksbury said finally. "Why don't you step into Mrs. Rhy's house and check your hair in the vanity. I swear the breeze has nearly swept you away!" This last Mrs. Tewksbury added with a cheery laugh. It fell so false that discomfort was universally felt.
Sophrona dutifully rose from the swing and with formal politeness excused herself. Cleav watched her go warily as he found all three pairs of eyes focused sternly on himself.
"Cleav," his mother began. "Mrs. Tewksbury tells me that there has been talk."
"Talk?" Cleav shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms across his chest.
"Folks are saying that Esme Crabb has been seen with you every day for the last week."
Cleav stared dumbstruck. A hasty denial stuck in his throat, and he choked slightly. Of the three the preacher appeared the most sympathetic. Cleav, therefore, directed the reply to him. "Miss Esme may have been seen near me," he said distinctly, "but she has not been seen with me, I can assure you."
The pastor nodded, willing to let him split hairs. "The fact remains she has been spending a good deal of time in your vicinity."
Cleav shrugged with feigned casualness. "I have no control over where Miss Crabb chooses to spend her time."
The preacher pulled thoughtfully at the scruff of his chin.
Eula Rhy sighed loudly in exasperation. "What in heaven's name is she following you around for?" his mother asked, refusing to couch the question in more politely vague terms.
"She and her sisters are interested in anything in trousers," Mrs. Tewksbury said firmly.
"Now, that's unfair, Mabel," the reverend corrected his wife. "The twins never seem to seek the attention of the boys, the boys are just drawn to them like flies to honey."
"Well, that's not true of this one," she declared. "She's never had a beau at all. Now, all of a sudden, she's making herself Mr. Rhy's shadow."
"Gossip," Cleav said bluntly. "You shouldn't waste a minute's time on such."
The preacher gave a slight inclination of the head. "If it were just old Pearly Beachum wagging her tongue, I would have let it go in one ear and out the other. That dear old lady has nothing to do but mind other people's business."
The ladies nodded in agreement.
"But I've heard it from several people not prone to nosiness," he continued. "And truth to tell, this morning I saw it myself. That girl's eyes fairly bore a hole in your back through half the sermon."
Cleav choked slightly, trying to clear the embarrassment from his throat.
"What is she up to?" Eula asked.
"I'm not sure, Mother," Cleav replied. "She seems . . . well, she seems interested in my life. The store, the fish . . . she—"
"The fish?" Mrs. Rhy fairly cackled at that. "No doubt she's thinking to try a pole in one of. those pools when you're not looking!"
Cleav's cheeks puffed out in anger. His first thought was to defend her. Esme was interested in the fish, and she was a lot less likely to "try a pole in one of those pools" than the people sitting across the porch from him.
What could he tell them? That the young woman in question had openly expressed a desire to marry him? Maybe a week ago he could have told them that, and they could have all had a superior little laugh about the foolish mountain girl. But not now, not after today. When he'd seen her in church, so brave, so unbowed, he'd felt a keen admiration. He understood what she felt. He'd felt it, too. Not for the life of him would he do anything to bring her low. Pride might not go with poverty, but it set well on Esme Crabb.
He kept those thoughts to himself and tried another tack. "I think Miss Esme finds me a curiosity. A sort of entertainment, I suppose."
The reverend was momentarily stunned by the statement. Having seen his share of the evil in men, he immediately thought the worst. "What kind of entertainment are you up to, young man?" The pastor's voice was stern for the first time.
Cleav was undaunted. In fact, he felt on surer ground now. He was telling the absolute truth, just not all of it.
"I think she's entertained by civility and politeness."
The preacher's look was skeptical.
"She told me she loves to hear me talk 'prissy.'"
