Chapter Nineteen
MONDAYS WERE ALWAYSsomething of a disappointment.
But perhaps that was because Sundays were so enjoyable. The land office was closed, and Sophia so loved Sunday dinner at the Canton home. There were never fewer then four or five guests, with plenty of food and good company. And although she didn’t go looking for compliments on her baking, everyone seemed to praise her dessert creations. Afterward, there was plenty of time for her and Matthew to take a walk around town or drive out to his land or visit Silver Creek.
Sophia had hoped he might try to kiss her again yesterday, but it had seemed half the town had the same idea for a stroll along the creek. And he always stayed up later than she did, presumably to allow her to fall asleep without interruption—although lately she’d wondered if there might be other reasons.
Color rose to her cheeks just thinking about that, and she busied herself with a hearty sweeping of the kitchen. Mrs. Canton had gone to the new butcher shop that had recently opened, and the reverend was visiting a family on a farm outside of town. The house felt strangely empty with no one around, and the silence drove a restless energy inside her.
Just as she was about to give up on the sweeping and find a reason to go to the mercantile or the boarding house, a knock came at the door. Someone must have read her mind, she thought as she leaned the broom against the wall and walked to the door.
Outside the Cantons’ home stood a tall, willowy woman about Sophia’s own age. Her pale hair was drawn back tightly in a style that made Sophia’s own head ache to contemplate. Her blue eyes flicked from Sophia to the interior of the house behind her.
“Good afternoon,” Sophia said pleasantly. “The reverend is out at the moment, but if you’d like, you can wait for him in the parlor. I expect he’ll return in an hour or so. If you’re hungry, we have tea and cookies.” She bit her lip before she could say more. She’d probably scared this poor girl away with her eagerness for company. She opened the door wider in invitation.
The woman stepped inside with a nervous smile. She brought with her a battered carpetbag that Sophia hadn’t noticed before.
“Oh, have you just arrived in town?” Sophia held out her hand for the woman’s bag and traveling cloak.
“I have,” she said, in a thin, uncertain voice. “Thank you.” She handed her things to Sophia, who hung the cloak on the coatrack and set the bag on the floor beneath it.
“Well, then, you must be exhausted. Come sit down, and I’ll bring you some refreshments.” Sophia gestured to the parlor.
The woman entered, her gaze wandering about the room before she turned back to Sophia. “I’m sorry. I should have asked your name. Are you the Cantons’ maid?”
Sophia choked back a giggle. “No, although I can see how you could come to that conclusion. I’m Sophia Canton.” She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the little bolt of excitement that shot through her at the use of her new last name. She couldn’t help but smile every time she used it. “May I ask yours?”
“I’m Daisy Timperman. I was supposed to be here some time ago, but . . . well . . . Are you all right, Miss Canton?”
Sophia’s fingers dug into the doorframe as she pasted a smile onto her face. “Mrs. Canton,” she said out of a lack of anything else to say. “Why don’t I fetch us those refreshments?”
Before Miss Timperman could respond, Sophia was gone, throwing herself into the kitchen where she grabbed hold of the back of the nearest chair and tried to catch her breath.
Daisy Timperman was here. She washere.
And she was expecting to marry Matthew.
