Once Upon A Thanksgiving: Season of Bounty / Home for Thanksgiving

She sewed together more quilt pieces and tried not to be aware of his presence. Yet she couldn’t stop her eyes from glancing at him.

He leaned his elbows on the table, rested his chin in his palms and studied her so intently she ducked her head and concentrated on taking a small, even stitch.

“Tell me how you celebrate Thanksgiving in your house.”

She drew in a steadying breath, grateful for the offer of normal conversation. “I love Thanksgiving. I didn’t always. We have a formal meal, sometimes with guests.” Mostly they were business associates and not exactly fun company for a young girl. “The mealtimes were often a bit dreary, but since the church started holding a special service with guest speakers and a shared meal, I’ve loved the day. More and more I appreciate how much God has blessed all of us.” Her hands grew still as she sought for words to explain what she meant. “I am in awe of how much God loves us that He sent his son to earth as a baby. Can you imagine sending Joey into a place where you knew he would be shunned and tortured?”

Bleakness filled Buck’s face, and she wished she hadn’t used his son as an example. She tended to forget he was mixed-race and likely faced prejudice.

“Good reason to spend winters in isolated shacks, wouldn’t you say?”

She didn’t think so, but how could she explain in such a way she wouldn’t be misunderstood? “What I see between you and Joey,” she began slowly, forming her thoughts as she spoke, “is a wonderful example of fatherly love and care. I’m convinced you would do anything for his well-being. I think by hiding your relationship, by seeking isolation, you deprive others of witnessing such a fine example. Our society is the poorer for the loss.” She could think of nothing more to add, though the words were inadequate for the emotion she tried to convey.

Buck stared at her, swallowed hard. “You make me want to walk boldly into the town’s businesses with Joey at my side.”

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t.” But was it for his sake and Joey’s she wanted him to believe so? Or for her own sake? She let a picture form in her mind of Buck openly being her friend.

“Life isn’t so simple for everyone.” His expression grew hard, guarded. Again, the evidence of a secret. She wanted to ask him about it, but Rosie returned and took up needle and thread.

For the next few days, the afternoons passed in the same fashion with the exception that Buck didn’t give her an opportunity to say anything more about walking openly and proudly down the street. Kathleen prayed he would believe he could do so or that she would get a chance to discuss it again, because every day she discovered something more she liked and admired about this man—his easy laughter when he played with the children, the way he sprang to his feet to help Rosie. And herself. She ducked her head over her sewing to hide the heat in her cheeks as she thought of how he lifted her coat from her shoulders and hung it on the rack. A common courtesy, yet when his fingers brushed her neck her reaction was far from common. The way her heart lurched against her rib cage made it impossible to think.

Each afternoon, he escorted her home.

“Won’t you come in and meet Mother?” she asked on this particular day—a request she’d considered several times before, but because of her uncertainty as to how Mother would react, she’d never yet voiced it. Now she wanted nothing more than for Buck and Mother to meet.

“I don’t think it would be wise,” Buck said, his expression giving away nothing.

“I think you’d enjoy meeting my mother. And she you.”

He shook his head. “There are things you don’t know about me. No one here does. Best to keep it that way.”

“I wish you’d tell me what they are so I could understand.” She didn’t care that her request made it sound like she had a right to know, which she didn’t—except for the fact that she admired him and cared how he seemed to feel, he must remain an outsider.

A gentle smile lifted his lips and softened his gaze. “Maybe I will some time.” Hardness returned so fast, she almost gasped. “You do realize I promised Rosie I wouldn’t hang about until people noticed me. I think I am perilously close to reaching that place.”

She reached for his arm, stopped herself before she touched him. “You won’t suddenly disappear without a word, will you? I’ve had friends that dropped out of my life like that. I—” Why did she think it would matter how it had shattered her life? But she steadied her voice and continued. “I found it hard to accept. I asked myself all sorts of questions. Was it my fault? Was there something wrong with me? Wasn’t I worthy of their friendship?”

His smile touched her. “Kathleen, anyone would be honored to be your friend.”

Her thoughts skidded to a halt as his words spread like wildfire through her insides. Honored? Could he possibly mean it?

“I’ll tell you before I leave. I promise.”

She nodded and relaxed. She had a strong feeling that a promise from Buck was as good as money in the bank. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I’ll be there.”

She hurried into the house, a smile curving her lips. How sweet to know he would be there tomorrow. If only she could persuade him to consider more. More than that, he made her believe her lack of friends wasn’t due to some flaw in her makeup.

Mother greeted her in the hall. “It’s not proper for you to visit a man on the street like that.”

“Mother, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“He’s below you.” Mother made it sound like Buck belonged in the gutter.

“He’s a decent man.” Stilling defensive words on Buck’s behalf, she hung her coat on the rack, glad of the excuse to avoid meeting her mother’s gaze. “Just as his sister is a decent woman.”

“Your father and I don’t approve of how much time you’re spending with this family.”

“Mother, I am only extending Christian kindness in a way I feel I should.” Yet it was as much for her sake as for theirs that she went. Having Rosie and Buck as friends eased her loneliness. But only one argument would convince Mother. “Jesus didn’t make a distinction between the rich and the poor.”

“He was God. You are just a woman.”

“I can’t believe you said that.” She slowly faced her mother. “I don’t think my being a woman has anything to do with extending friendship to others.” Was it only friendship she longed for from Buck? Or did something deeper, wider, more intense beckon? Afraid her cheeks would flash guilty color, she ducked her head to dust her skirt. Friendship was a good start, but she allowed herself to acknowledge she wanted more.

Buck, with his easy love for Joey, Rosie and her children, and with his loyalty to what he believed, filled in the hollow spots in her heart simply by being there.

If only he would stop believing he had to leave.

“Your father is right. That Eastern college has given you strange ideas.”

“No, Mother. Reading God’s word—” learning to think for herself “—has given me these ideas, and I’d hardly call them strange.” She slipped her arm through her mother’s. “Now let’s not argue. Tell me what you’ve been doing. Did you finish going through your letters?”

Mother sniffed then brightened at the chance to talk about what she’d done. “I finished them and started to answer some I’ve neglected. I haven’t seen some of these dear people since before you were born, but I don’t want to lose contact.”

Kathleen encouraged her mother to talk and tried to still the little annoyance that she felt more regard for people whom she hadn’t seen in twenty years or so than she did for those who lived only a few blocks away.

Later that night, after she’d gone to bed, she heard her parents talking and guessed she was the subject of their long discussion. She fully expected one of them to insist on her ending her visits to Rosie’s. But after lunch the next day, her mother wiped her arm across her eyes in a gesture of weariness and waved her away. “Do what you want. I need to have a nap.”

Thankful to be free to continue her visits, Kathleen slipped away.

Joey was stronger, ready to travel. Still Buck made no plans to leave. He couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not yet. Not while Kathleen continued to come. He anticipated every visit with restless joy. Her very presence in the house filled it with sunshine and—

Perhaps only his heart felt the vibrations of happiness.

Perhaps if she, for some reason, stopped coming he would be able to leave.

But she seemed committed to regular visits. According to Rosie, she hadn’t come every day until recently. Actually, what Rosie said was she hadn’t come every day until Buck showed up. She’d said it with a mixture of teasing and annoyance.

“You can’t stay. Have you forgotten?”

“You make sure I don’t forget.”

“If things were different, I would welcome you. You know it.”

He nodded. “Things will never be different.”

“I know, but I hope my kids can be free of our fear.”