“Ah…” Seth was too stunned to respond.
“I want you to know that I’ve made inquiries each and every day, but a full-time housekeeper, willing to live in and care for two small children, why, they’re few and far between these days.”
“But—”
“Not to mention the fact that you’ve gone through every domestic I have in short order.”
“What about Emily Merkle?” he asked. “Didn’t you send her?”
“Emily Merkle.”
He could hear the rustle of papers in the background. “We don’t have anyone by that name listed here. Let me check the computer data file.”
He waited a moment. The sound of fingers typing against the computer keys echoed over the telephone line.
“I’m afraid we don’t have anyone by that name listed with the agency. Are you sure her name is Merkle?”
“Yes.” All of a sudden Seth was sure of nothing.
Exactly who was this woman who’d insinuated herself into his and the children’s lives?
Chapter 13
It isn’t difficult to make a mountain out of a molehill. Just add a little dirt.
—Mrs. Miracle
It was her responsibility as a Christian, Harriett Foster determined. As an upstanding member of the church, it was her duty to talk with Pastor Lovelace about what was happening between Ruth Darling and Lyle Fawcett.
Even though Harriett played the organ for the eleven o’clock worship service, she had eyes in her head. She could see what was happening. Ruth Darling was flirting with sin, and the worst part of it was that she did so right inside the house of God. Why, a blind man could see that Ruth was making eyes at Lyle Fawcett.
Harriett was worried about Ruth. That was it. Worried. She’d start off by telling Pastor Lovelace how very concerned she was over her dear, dear friend’s recent behavior. Her words couldn’t be misconstrued as gossip in that case. This had been a matter of prayer for a good while, and she’d felt the need to share her burden.
Harriett checked her reflection in the car window to be sure her hat was fastened securely to her head before she approached the church. She had a perfect excuse for being there on a Saturday. Not that she ever really needed a reason.
Not only was she playing the piano for the Christmas program—the children were due to arrive in another hour—but it took an hour or more at the organ to familiarize herself with the music for the Sunday morning worship service.
It did feel as though the church took advantage of her musical talents. When Harriett talked to Pastor Lovelace, she’d be sure to mention how much of her valuable time she sacrificed for the church’s benefit. Subtly, of course. She didn’t want him to think she was overly burdened or that she didn’t enjoy being a slave for God’s work.
Walking in from the parking lot, she clenched her purse against her side and strolled purposely past the pastor’s office. The door was closed, and she sighed with disappointment. She’d hoped that the office door would be open and she could stick her head inside and say hello. She hesitated, wondering if she should knock, then decided against it. She’d much rather that their discussion appeared spontaneous and nothing that she’d planned beforehand. As it was, she’d carefully gone over exactly what she would say, after which she’d leave the touchy matter in his capable hands. Surely Pastor Lovelace would recognize what was happening and take decisive action. No man of God could allow this kind of behavior to continue within his own church.
Lyle Fawcett was a gentleman, a recent widower himself. He needed gentle concern, someone who could appreciate his grief, a woman who would take it upon herself to see to his comfort.
He needed someone like her, Harriett reasoned.
She’d lost her life’s mate and could well appreciate Lyle’s grief. What he didn’t need was Ruth Darling hovering over him, making a nuisance of herself. As the Bible leader for the Martha and Mary Circle, Ruth had other responsibilities. More important, Ruth had a husband!
Apparently Fred Darling didn’t even see what was going on right under his nose; he would never put up with his wife’s blatant behavior if he did. Harriett would have thought better of the man, but then, as was so often the case, the spouse was the last to know. Men in particular were blind when it suited their purposes. To Harriett’s way of thinking, Fred was acting like an ostrich with his head buried in the sand. She almost felt sorry for the poor soul.
Feeling thwarted and more than a little disappointed, Harriett headed for the sanctuary. She’d play the organ, and if luck was with her, Pastor Lovelace would hear the soothing sounds of her music and make himself available. It wasn’t uncommon for him to enter the sanctuary when she played or to make last minute changes in the music.