Moving into the parlor, he went to the bookcase to look for the catalogue. He stood there, staring blankly at the books as if he’d forgotten his purpose.
A knock sounded at the front door, startling him. For a moment, his heart leaped.Ivy!But then he remembered her set expression, the pain in her eyes when she left, and knew it wasn’t her.Probably Hank or Brian come to check up on me.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to either one of them. They might not say so, but he knew they’d be on Ivy’s side. He opened the door.
A man stood there, who looked to be Torin’s age. “Hello, Torin.”
A stranger at the door?Only gentlemanly manners kept him from closing the door in the man’s face. But he didn’t widen it, either.
He blinked, vaguely recognizing the man. But his scattered thoughts couldn’t seem to come together to figure out who he was. He blinked again. The unusual crystal blue eyes and clerical cravat were the giveaway. He was older now, with more lines around his eyes and across his forehead, and a close beard instead of clean-shaven. “Joshua? Joshua Norton?”
“I’d have come earlier if I’d known.”
The gentleness in Joshua’s tone and the remorse in his eyes melted enough of the ice that Torin could shuffle back and open the door wider. As the man stepped in, looking far too elegantly clad for a minister despite the clerical cravat, Torin became aware that he’d hadn’t bathed or shaved or combed his hair since Ivy left.
Joshua stepped in and glanced around. “Your daughter?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Ah. Perhaps, I’ll meet her later if you’ll allow.”
Torin didn’tat allwant toallow. But the gentle wave of ministerial-ness radiating from the man was almost enough to, if not coax him into a yes, at least keep him from an immediate refusal. Holding in a grumpy grunt, he led the way into the parlor and gestured to the couch. He hadn’t baked lately so had nothing sweet to offer. “Coffee? Tea?”
Reverend Joshua waved off the offer of something to drink. As he sat down, he let out a long sigh, removed his hat, and placed it on the sofa next to him. “When Cora told us of your presence and that of your daughter here in Sweetwater Springs, I must admit that at first I was…shocked anddisturbedthat you wouldn’t reach out to me.” He paused, evidently searching for what to say.
He’s hurt, Torin surmised, surprised to feel some shame. If he thought of Joshua Norton at all, it was to dismiss him as being judgmental. It never occurred to him that he could cause the man pain. The very idea was so foreign, he almost couldn’t take in the information.
“But upon further reflection,” Joshua rubbed his chin, “I realized you quite possibly had put me in the same rigid category as Esther’s family.”
“My condolences on the death of your wife,” Torin said stiffly. He stopped there, not having anything else to add. He’d never liked Esther Maynard. She’d struck him as one of those holier-than-thou people, more inclined to judge and preach, rather then converse. Even though their families socialized regularly, he avoided her presence as much as he could politely do.
Joshua accepted the condolences with a nod. “Your family are neighbors of the Maynards. I didn’t see them when Micahand I first returned from Africa and stayed in Cambridge for a week. We were in mourning for my wife, so the family didn’t entertain.”
If Joshua had seen my parents, I wonder what they would have said if he asked about me.
The man shifted in his seat. “I was in Africa, so I didn’t know about the birth of your daughter and your family’s repudiation.” His jaw tightened. “But you can be assured that I wouldnothave agreed with their choice, and so I would have rebuked them,” he said, with a small, self-deprecating lift of his hand and a wry turn up of his mouth. “Neither of us—my father and I—are prone to rebuking. We have to be sorely moved. And back then, dazed as I was by Abner Maynard singling me out for his attentions,mightilymoved.”
“I doubt your rebuking, no matter howmightily, would have made a difference,” Torin said wryly.
“Perhaps not to your family’s decision to shun you and your daughter. But at least you would have known someone was on your side, who greatly admired the stance you took.”
Torin sat back in his chair, thinking. “Painful and lonely doesn’t adequately describe that time. But perhaps everything worked out for the best. Yourrebukingmight have ruined your relationship with the Maynards, and you would not have married Esther and become a missionary.”
“You’re probably right that my powers of persuasion wouldn’t have been enough to turn the tide.”
Torin huffed. “Not against my family.”
“But my marriage with Esther…lacked harmony. It was never my plan to become a missionary. I was to return here to minister with my father. But Esther had the bit between her teeth.”
Torin felt a flicker of amusement at Joshua’s phraseology. ‘Lacked harmony’ sounded ministerial. ‘Bit between her teeth’ made Esther sound like a horse out of control. In recalling theyoung woman, he figured there was some truth to the man’s analogy.
“If Micah and I hadn’t been traveling on the train at the same time as Andre and Delia Bellaire, we might never have met my dear wife and her father. Never had my baby daughter. And my son…well, Micah has been the greatest blessing.” His smile softened his austere features. “At eleven years of age, he’s quite a scamp.”
He sounds proud, rather than critical. Seems Reverend Joshua Norton might have a sense of humor,something Torin didn’t think ministers possessed. Or so he recalled when Abner Maynard or one of his seminary students preached. He had a faint memory of Joshua, young and earnest, being one of them. He couldn’t recall the sermon text or topic, but the young preacher had used some stories of Sweetwater Springs to make his points.
“The Bellaires have taken my son to heart. Andre is the most indulgent grandfather, and Delia is a far more nurturing mother than Esther ever was.”
Is the minister actually conveying some bitterness about his first wife?
