A Touch of Autumn(18)

Feeling a little dazed, he gave his head a quick shake and glanced down at the hymnbook. He peered at the page, opened his mouth and his loud baritone swelled out with the words “Shall we gather at the river, where bright angels’ feet have trod.” A giggle from the girls seated in front of him and the incredulous frown from the song leader was his first indication that something was wrong.

Little by little it seeped into his head and ears that the congregation was singing “Rescue the Perishing.”

With an embarrassed attempt at an apologetic smile, Charles found the correct page and cleared his throat before joining in. His burning ears were a sure sign that his face was red as a ripe tomato.

During the rest of the service he sat stiffly and stared at Reverend Shepherd instead of the good reverend’s daughter.

After the final prayer, he stood. Maybe he could get out of the building without talking to anyone. A loud burst of laughter near the door caused him to cringe.

Trent and Abigail walked past as he was about to slip from the pew. Trent, carrying their baby, chuckled, but Abigail flashed Charles a grin.

“I always did say you had a strong voice, Charles,” she whispered. Pressing her lips together, she walked away with her husband.

Livvy appeared at his side. “Don’t pay any attention to them. I’m going to slip out the side door and help Mama get things ready for dinner. And I happen to know she’s made a pecan pie especially for you.”

Charles watched her walk away, then, feeling better, he sauntered out the door, pausing to shake hands with Reverend Shepherd. No one gave him a second look. Good. He’d let his imagination run away with him. He headed for the wagon, calling for Sonny and Tommy, who were the only ones who weren’t waiting by the wagons where they were supposed to be. By the time the other students were seated, the two rushed up and crawled inside the second wagon.

“Where did you boys take off to?”

“Huntin’ cougars,” Tommy said. “I know they’re out there somewhere.”

After a lighthearted, laughter-filled ride home, Charles saddled up Toby, the chestnut gelding, and rode to the parsonage. The thought of going for a ride with Livvy prompted a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. He gave a short laugh. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but he’d better banish these new and unwelcome ideas if he wanted to maintain his friendship with Livvy. If she knew about the thoughts running through his head, there was no telling what she’d do. But it wouldn’t be fun.

He urged Toby into a gallop and rode into the churchyard.

* * *

“Livvy, there’s another piece of pie in the kitchen. Why don’t you get it for Mr. Waverly?”

Livvy stood, but Charles waved her down. “No. No, thank you, Mrs. Shepherd, but I’ve had two already and, as delicious as it is, I can’t eat another forkful of anything.”

“Well, then, I’ll wrap it up for you to take with you.” She stood and headed to the kitchen, apparently intending to make good on her words right away.

Livvy grinned and shook her head at Charles before he could protest. When Mama made up her mind about something, you might as well go along with her.

She was back in a flash. “Now don’t let me forget to give it to you when you leave. I know you and Livvy are going riding this afternoon, so I also put a few pieces of chicken in the parcel in case you miss supper at the school.”

“That’s very kind, Mrs. Shepherd. No one fries chicken like you.”

Livvy would just bet he wouldn’t say that when Selma was around. She held the title of queen of fried chicken in the entire county.

“I need to change into my riding clothes. I’ll be right back.”

Quickly she changed into the new wine-colored riding habit and smoothed the hem of the jacket. She pulled on her riding boots and gave herself a once-over in the mirror.

She glanced at the small faux top hat on her dresser. A tiny feather shimmered in the band. Should she? She had a perfectly serviceable riding hat she’d never worn. Was she being vain? With a sudden move, she grabbed it and placed it on top of her head.

* * *

Charles urged Toby into a gallop, expecting Livvy to catch up on her little bay mare.

When she didn’t pull up beside him, he reined in Toby and waited for her. She threw her head back and laughed, a dimple flashing beside her cute little mouth. Funny, he’d never noticed the dimple before.

“Waiting for me?”

He grinned. “As competitive as you are in other things, I didn’t think you’d let me stay ahead of you. By the way, you sit a horse very well. Almost like a professional.”

For a moment her face sobered, then she smiled. “My grandfather paid for riding lessons when I was a little girl. I was six when I had my first lesson.”