Sam’s lips formed a thin line. “He sure didn’t show it,” he said as he placed his mother’s bag in the back of the buggy and reached for her hand to help her up.
“Now, Sam, you two really should have had a better conversation before you left. I really do think—”
“It’s fine, Mother. It all worked out in the end, although I would have liked to see him before…”
Sam had told Meg that his father had passed away suddenly, killed in an accident. And he’d regretted that he hadn’t been able to make peace with him beforehand. Meg thought it must have been awful to not be able to say goodbye and thought of her own mother’s passing, grateful that she had been there and was able to share the gift of music with her.
“We all would have liked that, son.” Mrs. Allen took one last swipe at her eyes and patted her chignon. She tucked her handkerchief back in her sleeve and straightened her skirt.
“I’m very happy to be here. Let’s concentrate on that, shall we?”
Meg and Sam exchanged glances.
“Yes, let’s do that.” Sam untied the reins from the post and climbed in the buggy, heading in the direction of his house.
“You must be tired, Mrs. Allen,” Meg said, remembering the distance she’d had to travel from New York.
“I do believe I could use an opportunity to freshen up and maybe rest a little. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“We have your room prepared, and everything’s ready to heat you a bath when we get home, if you’d like. And then maybe a bit of a rest before supper?”
“That would be lovely, Meg. Very thoughtful of you,” Mrs. Allen said as she patted Meg’s hand. “Sam, you’ve done yourself proud with this young lady. I like her already.”
Meg blushed at the compliment. She wondered how Mrs. Allen would feel about her if they failed in their mission, but pushed the thought out of her head—for now.
Chapter 18
Mrs. Allen had seemed very happy with Sam’s house upon her tour when they arrived. Sam had shown her around, and she appeared very pleased until her eyes settled on the large piece of furniture covered by a white sheet.
Meg was confused by the awkward silence that followed for a few moments.
“Is that what I think it is, son?” She pointed to the piano.
Sam rubbed his forehead before answering. “Yes, Mother, it is.”
“And it’s covered because…”
Meg held her breath, anticipating the answer that would come, but her shoulders sagged when Sam spoke.
“I’ll show you to your room, Mother, and Meg can start heating the water for your bath.” He picked up Mrs. Allen’s suitcase and headed up the stairs, clearly expecting his mother to follow.
Mrs. Allen turned to Meg, but all she got in return was a shrug as Meg headed into the kitchen to heat the water. “There are clean towels on the vanity for you, Mrs. Allen,” she said as Sam’s mother turned and started up the stairs behind her son, clearly as confused as Meg.
As she stoked the wood stove to heat the water, she wondered what could possibly be uncomfortable about the subject of the piano. Sam had mentioned he read music, and she assumed he could play if he had a piano in his house, but couldn’t guess as to why he didn’t want to. Maybe he’d just been too busy, although the sheet did appear to have been there for a very long time.
Sam entered the kitchen and said, “I can take the water up if you’d like.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down at the table.
“Thank you, but I think I should. I can then pour the bath and see if she needs anything else. I’m surprised that it’s been a little challenging already, and that it hadn’t occurred to us to come up with a story about how we’d met.”
Sam looked up at Meg as he smiled. “You did a great job of that one. Very quick.”
Meg’s stomach fluttered at his words. “Thank you, but you didn’t hear the first part when I practically stuttered. I thought the truth would be out in the first five minutes.”
“That would have been awful. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome, but it doesn’t bode well for the rest of the visit, that there are topics we haven’t even considered that may come up in conversation.
“I suppose we’ll just have to take it each day at a time.”
“Or each minute at a time, more likely.” Meg laughed as she readied the pail for Mrs. Allen’s bath.
“Would you mind if I walk over to the Occidental for a bit while Mother is resting? I wanted to explain to Tripp what’s happening, and when he might expect me back. Hopefully, this week will be the fastest to pass in history.”