“Actually he volunteered,” she admitted reluctantly. “Dinner didn’t exactly turn out the way I’d hoped.”
The housekeeper snickered. “I should’ve guessed. You city slickers don’t know nothing about serving up a decent meal to your menfolk.”
Rorie gave a hefty sigh of agreement. “The only thing for me to do is stay on another couple of months and have you teach me.” As she expected, the housekeeper opened her mouth to protest. “Unfortunately,” Rorie continued, cutting Mary off before she could launch into her arguments, “I’m hoping to be gone by this afternoon.”
Mary’s response was a surprise. The older woman’s expression grew troubled and intense.
“I suspected you’d be going soon enough,” she said in a tight voice, pulling out a chair. She sat down heavily and brushed wisps of gray hair from her forehead. Her weathered face was thoughtful. “It’s for the best, you know.”
“I knew you’d be glad to get rid of me.”
Mary shrugged. “It’s other reasons that make it right for you to leave. You know what I’m talking about, even if you don’t want to admit it to me. As a person you tend to grow on folks. Like I said before, for a city girl, you ain’t half bad.”
Rorie took a banana from the fruit bowl in the center of the table. “For a stud farm, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, this place isn’t half bad, either,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, which had taken an unexpected turn toward the serious. “The people are friendly and the apple pie’s been exceptional.”
Mary ignored the compliment on her pie. “By people, I suppose you’re referring to Clay. You’re going to miss him, aren’t you, girl?”
The banana found its way back into the bowl and with it went her cheerful facade. “Yes. I’ll miss Clay.”
The older woman’s frown deepened. “From the things I’ve been noticing, he’s going to be yearning for you, as well. But it’s for the best,” she said again. “For the best.”
Rorie nodded and her voice wavered. “Yes…but it isn’t easy.”
The housekeeper gave her a lopsided smile as she gently patted Rorie’s hand. “I know that, too, but you’re doing the right thing. You’ll forget him soon enough.”
A strong protest rose in her breast, closing off her throat. She wouldn’t forget Clay. Ever. How could she forget the man who had so unselfishly taught her such valuable lessons about life and love? Lessons about herself.
“Kate Logan’s the right woman for Clay,” Mary said abruptly.
Those few words cut Rorie to the quick. Hearing another person voice the truth made it almost unbearably painful.
“I…hope they’re very happy.”
“Kate loves him. She has from the time she was knee-high to a June bug. And there’s something you don’t know. Years back, when Clay was in college, he fell in love with a girl from Seattle. She’d been born and raised in the city. Clay loved her, wanted to marry her, even brought her to Elk Run to meet the family. She stayed a couple of days, and the whole time, she was as restless as water on a hot skillet. Apparently she had words with Clay because the next thing I knew, she’d packed her bags and headed home. Clay never said much about her after that, but she hurt him bad. It wasn’t until Kate got home from college that Clay thought seriously about marriage again.”
Mary’s story explained a lot about Clay.
“Now, I know I’m just an old woman who likes her soaps and Saturday-night bingo. Most folks don’t think I’ve got a lick of sense, and that’s all right. What others choose to assume don’t bother me much.” She paused, and shook her head. “But Kate Logan’s about the kindest, dearest person this town has ever seen. People like her—they can’t help themselves. She’s always got a kind word and there’s no one in this world she’s too good for. She cares about the people in this community. Those kids she teaches over at the grade school love her like nothing you’ve ever seen. And she loves them. When it came to building that fancy library, it was Kate who worked so hard convincing folks they’d be doing what was best for Nightingale by voting for that bond issue.”
Rorie kept her face averted. She didn’t need Mary to tell her Kate was a good person; she’d seen the evidence of it herself.
“What most folks don’t know is that Kate’s seen plenty of pain in her own life. She watched her mother die a slow death from cancer. Took care of her most of the time herself, nursing Nora when she should’ve been off at college having fun like other nineteen-year-olds. Her family needed her and she was there. Kate gave old man Logan a reason to go on living when Nora passed away. She still lives with him, and it’s long past time for her to be a carefree adult on her own. Kate’s a good person clean through.” Mary hesitated, then drew in a solemn breath. “Now, you may think I’m nothing but a meddling old fool. But I’m saying it’s a good thing you’re leaving Elk Run before you break that girl’s heart. She’s got a chance now for some happiness, and God knows she deserves it. If she loses Clay, I can tell you it’d break her heart. She’s too good to have that happen to her over some fancy city girl who’s only passing through.”