Denny, Tyree, Fat Blanchard, even Brother Oswald came waltzing into his store, greeting Esme as if she belonged there. And worse yet, Esme acted as if she did. She eagerly hurried to help the customers whenever Cleav was busy, and she knew the inventory and location of almost every item.
It was clear Esme loved the store. She enjoyed the order and accessibility of everything from fabric to crackers. Having all the things that she considered so dear right at her fingertips had a compelling appeal. When customers came in, Esme was smiling, friendly, happy, and the folks who came to the store smiled right back.
They smiled at Esme. The standard approach to Cleav these days was curiosity tinged with disapproval. No one knew what was going on, why Esme Crabb spent her every waking hour in the company of a man who was supposedly courting the preacher's daughter. But they blamed him.
In the normal course of things, the woman would be suspect. But human nature being what it was, people tended to root for the underdog. Esme was a good-hearted, church-going, hill girl. Cleavis Rhy had spent years establishing himself as the prosperous and genteel storekeeper. His relative affluence was not a mark in his favor.
Although Cleav didn't know it, every eye in town was on the General Merchandise, and every word of gossip had his name attached.
"What do you think is going on between them two?" Toady Winthrop asked Sarah Mayfield.
"Heaven only knows," Sarah had replied in a scandalized whisper, "but for sure it's something. Have you seen the way he looks at her?"
Both Toady and her friend Madge nodded resolutely.
"Why, the man can hardly take his eyes off her," Madge answered. "It just ain't decent at all."
"It's that city life," Pearly Beachum assured Madge not an hour later as the latter helped her carry in the laundry. "In Knoxville he no doubt saw them rich city men taking advantage of poor helpless girls like Esme."
Madge tutted with disapproval.
"As soon as I get this laundry put away," Pearly promised, "I'm headed down to that store to see for myself what kind of carryings-on that Rhy is up to."
"So you think he's up to no good?" Madge asked.
"He's always wanted to be one of those city men," Pearly told her levelly. "I'm thinking that he's planning on making poor, precious little Esme his mistress.''
The last word was more mouthed than spoken, still Madge gave a little cry of shock and covered her ears.
That did not stop Madge, of course, from repeating it to no less than half a dozen other women that day.
"It's getting worse every day," Mabel Tewksbury confided to Eula Rhy. "The talk is just getting out of hand."
Mrs. Rhy gave the preacher's wife a worried nod of agreement. "There is nothing to it," she said flatly. "I'm convinced that the only feeling my dear Cleavis has for that girl is pity."
Mabel was not completely convinced, but she didn't say so. "The truth doesn't matter in these things," she admitted. "In matters of hearsay, appearance is everything."
Eula knew Mrs. Tewksbury was right.
"I've tried to keep the rumors away from Sophrona," Mabel confided. "But I can't lock the girl in her room. Someone is going to say something to her, that's certain."
"The best way to squelch these stories is a very public and prompt betrothal," Eula said.
Mrs. Tewksbury sighed with relief. "I couldn't agree with you more."
"I've told Cleav that the time is right to press his suit. I can only hope that he takes my advice."
Mabel gave a nod of sympathetic understanding. "I've spent hours trying to impress upon Sophrona that gentlemen with Mr. Rhy's civility and resources are extremely scarce in this part of the world. My prayers are that she will accept his proposal immediately."
Neither woman was certain that their perfect solution was on the horizon.
It was not only from the tongues of women that gossip flew that day in Vader. Across the checkerboard old man Denny asked Tyree.
"What do you think about him and the girl?"
"What?"
"I said, what do you think about him and the girl?" Denny repeated a bit louder.
