Chapter Eight: Noah

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It was a surprise to find two letters from Miss Garrison when I next went into town. Mr. Collins handed them to me with a grin, along with another letter from my sister. "Is the lady growing impatient?" the storekeeper asked. "If there's one thing you'll learn once you're married, you don't want to keep a lady waiting."

I ignored him as I turned the letters over in my hand. Why would Miss Garrison write two letters so close together? Had something happened? Worry wormed its way into my mind. Had she changed her mind? Had her family persuaded her not to take a risk on me?

"Was there something else you needed, Noah?"

With a start, I lifted my head. Collins was still grinning at me. "Ah, yes, actually," I said, slipping the letters into my pocket. I would read them when I was alone. After all, I'd gone this long without knowing. What was a few more hours? "I need to pick up whatever Earnest ordered and his usual supplies."

"Earnest Webster? He can't be too busy to come in himself," Collins said, leaning against the counter. "Why is he having you acting as a delivery boy?"

"Because he stepped in a mole hole yesterday and turned his ankle."

All levity faded from Collins' eyes. He knew as well as I did how a minor injury could become something worse. "I'm sorry to hear it," he said sincerely. "I'll get together what he usually needs and add it to his account. You tell him we hope he gets back on his feet soon."

"I'll do that." But I knew my friend and neighbor. The difficulty would be in making sure he stayed off his feet until he healed. If he tried to keep up his usual pace and routine, who knew the kind of damage he would do in the long run? And if he permanently damaged his ankle, how would he survive?

Stepping over to the window, I tried to stay out of Collins' way. As he bustled around behind me, I resisted the urge to use the time to open up one of the letters. But, I knew Collins would ask about the contents. And if there was bad news, I did not want an audience when I learned of it.

Unused to standing still, I shifted from foot to foot. Collins had only put some floor, coffee, and a few canned goods in the crate when the door chimed. "Good morning, ladies," the storekeeper greeted, pausing in the middle of his task. "How are you today? Give me a moment and I will be right with you."

The silence that followed prompted me to turn around. Mrs. Burns stood just inside the building. She stared at me, her eyes narrowed. "I will come back later, Mr. Collins," she said, raising her chin. Her voice fairly dripped with disgust. "I refuse to be in the same building as that man."

Beside her, Mrs. Royal looked both appalled and...confused?

"Now, Mrs. Burns," Collins said, his tone soothing. "I know you're still upset bt that little misunderstanding, but there's no need to–"

"Misunderstanding!" Mrs. Burns interrupted, her tone shrill with outrage. "That man has defiled my daughter, and what has he done to attone for that? Nothing! He ought to be strung up if he does not do the honorable thing and marry the poor girl!"

Defiled? How much worse did they intend to twist and exaggerate this story?

"I'll just come back, Colins," I said, turning to look at the storekeeper. It had to be the first time I'd ever seen him at a loss for words. "Mrs. Burns is entitled to feeling at ease while she shops."

I dind't wait for his response before I moved to the door. Mrs. Burns held her ground as I approached. In fact, she raised her chin even more, somehow, and glared at me. I came to a halt a yard away from her.

"Might I go past you, ma'am?"

Mrs. Royal tugged on her friend's arm. "Mary, let him pass," she urged. "There's no call for a confrontation here. What do you think you will gain by an argument now?"

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