Kat clattered down the stairs and joined them just as Gil entered. He took in Amelia’s dark-blue cotton dress with the Victorian collar and lace-trimmed cuffs. “Bit fancy for frying pork, ain’t it?”
She chuckled. “We’re going to church.”
“Who’s we? I ain’t going. Seen enough people scowling at me and shaking their heads without going to where they sit.”
“Not everyone is the same.” It was easy to say. Harder to believe, having experienced similar judgment after Callie arrived at Grandmother’s house. And then later toward an innocent baby.
“I’ll have to take yer word for it, as I ain’t about to see for myself. Who did ya say is going?”
“I didn’t. I guess I don’t know.”
Zach stepped into the house from tending the horses and overheard enough of the conversation to know what it was about. “We’ll all go. It might be good for Pa and will definitely benefit Kat.”
“I’m not going,” Kat insisted.
“Yes, you are,” Zach spoke firmly as if he hoped to end the argument before it started.
“You can’t make me. You aren’t my pa.”
At that, her pa spoke up. “We’ll all go to church. Your mother would expect it.”
That ended Kat’s protests as they stared at Pa. He was clear in his mind at the moment.
Zach hung his hat on the hook by the door, as surprised as Amelia and as hopeful Pa’s clarity would last.
“I’ll stay home and make a Sunday dinner like your ma used to make,” Gil said. No one protested, though having them all away would give Gil opportunity to do something besides cook. Not that having them at home proved a deterrent.
After breakfast, and when everyone changed into their Sunday best, Zach drove the wagon to the house and helped them into it. Pa chose to sit in the back with Kat, who had managed to find a dress that wasn’t torn and soiled.
Zach helped Amelia to the bench, and she held Poppy, almost like her journey here a short time ago.
“Do you have your letter?” Zach murmured as he sat beside her. As if he couldn’t wait for her to be gone.
“Right here.” She patted her little drawstring bag. At least she could hope for a welcome with Jacob Wells. The thought did nothing to ease the way her insides tightened.
As they approached Golden Valley, breathing grew increasingly difficult. What would people think of her with the Taggerty family? What would they think of Poppy? Would they ask questions about the child? And most of all, did she want to mail the letter in her bag? Decidedly no, but what choice did she have?
As they reached the small white church, the Taggertys were surrounded by friends. Kat ran off with some girls her age. Zach and Amelia stayed on either side of Pa.
As more and more people greeted him, tension and confusion radiated from the man.
“Let’s get inside.” Zach hurried them into the church.
Mr. Jarvis spoke to Pa as they entered the sanctuary. “Norm, it is so nice to see you. How are you doing?”
Pa’s hands twitched. They needed to find a place to sit before he grew agitated.
“Your letter,” Zach reminded Amelia.
She dug it from her bag and handed it to Mr. Jarvis, and asked him to post it. Any hope Zach might see value in asking her to stay disappeared with the letter Mr. Jarvis slipped into his pocket.
They led Pa to a pew and sat on either side of him. Poppy, perched on Amelia’s knees, reached out and took Pa’s hand. He smiled, and his high-riding shoulders relaxed.
Couldn’t Zach see Poppy’s calming effect on his pa? Didn’t that mean anything?
The church filled up, and the preacher took his place. His gaze lit on Amelia. “I see the Taggertys have company. Welcome. I’m Pastor Stone.” His gaze shifted to Pa. “And welcome to Mr. Taggerty and the rest of the family. Now, if you would turn to number—” He announced the first hymn.
Amelia and Zach held a hymnal in front of Pa. Singing “Amazing Grace” with her earlier, Zach proved he had a fine voice, and she prepared to enjoy the service.
