Eyes on the Prize Page 6

  “How many children are we talking about?” she asked.

  “I’d guess about thirty children combined in the kindergarten and first grade classes. I have sixteen students this year. We wouldn’t stay for long. I suggested making a stop here, then taking the children to Fairy Pond for a picnic.”

  Jane avoided Louise’s gaze and nodded.

  “Yes, that’ll be all right.”

  “Oh, thank you. The kids will be delighted!”

  The teakettle whistled. The back door opened, and Alice came in from working at the hospital. “Hello,” she said. “What’s the occasion? Are we having a party?”

  “No, but we’re having tea. Would you like to join us?” Jane asked.

  “I’d love to, as soon as I change out of this uniform. I’ll be right back,” she said and went through to the hallway.

  Jane carried the teapot and a plate of apple and cheese slices and homemade gingersnaps to the table. Louise set out cups and napkins.

  “How’s the race-training going?” Vera asked Jane.

  “Not as well as it should. I doubt I’ll be passing anyone. Hey, want to sponsor me?”

  “Sure. I can give you a dollar per kilometer. I’ve pledged to support several of the teachers from school too. Most of them are planning to walk the course. Don’t people usually train for months for a race?” Vera asked.

  “Probably. More time would sure help me. I can’t seem to pace myself for very long. I need someone riding a bicycle or driving along beside me, so I can run at a steady rate.”

  “Maybe you need a running partner, so you can encourage each other and set a steady pace. You could try running with the cross-country team from the high school.”

  “Those young people could run circles around me. No thanks. I’m not into training by humiliation.”

  “If you think the team would be too much of a challenge,” Alice said as she entered the kitchen, “several of the young people from church are training for the race. I bet they’d be happy to have you join them.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” Jane said. She didn’t have to think very hard to know she didn’t want a bunch of teenage athletes seeing how out of shape she was. Besides, she reminded herself, it wasn’t about winning, at least not against the young runners. It was about performing at her personal best. She’d keep working out, jogging daily, training on hills. She’d be as ready as she possibly could be.

  “Did you walk here?” Alice asked, as Vera got up to leave.

  “Yes. Care to walk back with me?”

  “I’d like to.” Alice turned to Jane. “Do you need anything in town?”

  “A loaf of fresh French bread would be good with dinner if you would drop by the bakery,” Jane said.

  “While you’re there, you could pick up some cinnamon bread for breakfast,” Louise suggested.

  “Happy to.”

  “Pick up a loaf of sprouted wheat bread for me, please,” Ethel chimed in. “Maybe a couple of Clarissa’s bagels too. The ones with sesame seeds.”

  Alice got her wallet while Vera said her good-byes. They went out the front door and down the steps.

  “How’s your aunt doing?” Alice asked when they reached the sidewalk.

  “Not so well. My cousin Reggie says she’s failing fast.”

  “That’s too bad. It happens, though. For some reason, the trauma of a broken hip can mark a turning point for the elderly. She’s getting physical therapy. Is that helping?”

  “She suffered a setback with the pneumonia. She’s on antibiotics and oxygen, and they’re giving her breathing treatments.”

  “That usually takes care of it, but she might be weak for a while.”

  “Reggie’s hoping that’ll help convince her to move into an assisted living facility.”

  “And you’re not?” Alice asked.

  Vera shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing it’s necessary. Aunt Agatha’s always been so independent, I hate to see this happening to her. I can’t imagine she’s gone downhill so fast. I just saw her over Easter break.”

  “That’s almost five months ago. A lot can happen in that amount of time to someone who’s elderly. On the other hand, I’ve seen some remarkable recoveries. She might bounce back and be fine.”

  Vera stopped walking and turned to Alice. “That’s why I’m glad you’re going with me.”

  “I hope I can be of some help. What kind of clothes should I take along?”

  “Mostly casual, but we’ll go to church, and my aunt’s church is very traditional, so something churchy as well.”

  “Do I need to take a skirt?”

  “Oh no. I think one of your pantsuits will be fine. We might go out to dinner at the club too, but one nice outfit should be enough. I don’t plan on doing a lot of socializing while we’re there.”

  They arrived at Vera’s house and said good-bye. Vera went inside and Alice walked on. She got to wondering what kind of club Vera was referring to, but it was too late to ask. She’d pack her two Sunday pantsuits. Both were knit. One was black, the other blue. They were conservative but flattering.

  “I’d like to make a reservation for Friday night,” the woman on the telephone said.

  “I’m terribly sorry. We’re full all weekend,” Alice said, looking at the reservation book. “I have rooms available during the week.”

  “What about tomorrow night?”

  “Thursday? For one night? I do have a room, but only for the one night,” she repeated, wanting to be clear. “What time is check out?”

  “We ask our guests to check out by noon,” she said. She started to mention their policy of sometimes allowing late checkouts, but stopped herself. The room had to be ready for Friday night and that meant one of them would have to clean it. Since she was working until midafternoon, she didn’t want to burden her sisters. “Did you want me to reserve a room for you for the one night?” she asked.

  She heard a sigh. “Yes. We’ll have to drive down after work, so it will be late.”

  “How late?” she asked.

  “We’re coming from the Wilkes-Barre area. I estimate we’ll arrive around eight o’clock.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll have the room ready. Could I have your name, address and telephone number please?”

  Alice took the information and filled in the reservation form. Jane came out of the kitchen as she hung up. “We have guests coming tomorrow night,” Alice said.

  “Just for one night?”

  “Yes. It sounds like they’re making a special trip. They’ll be arriving late.”

  “Interesting. I took another reservation for tomorrow night.”

  “That’s odd. The fall colors won’t be full for a while yet.”

  “Well, whatever the case, it’s nice to have the business. Shall I make pumpkin waffles with maple pecan topping for breakfast Friday?”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’m sure they’d love them.” Alice picked up the book she’d checked out of the library and started up the stairs. She looked back at Jane. “I’m glad I’m going out of town with Vera next week.”

  “Why’s that?” Jane asked.

  “I think I’d start to hate pumpkin if I weren’t.”

  Jane’s laughter followed Alice up the stairs.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m sorry we’re so late,” Reba Gladstone told Alice as they stood in the entry hall, registering. She was a petite woman with white hair arranged in a neat bun on top of her head. Freckles liberally sprinkled her upturned nose, and her eyes seemed to smile up at Alice. “We tried to leave earlier, but Harry couldn’t get away.”

  Harry, her husband, was of average height, but towered over his wife. Alice took the key to their room off a hook. “It’s no problem. Our other guests for tonight haven’t arrived yet, so you’re not the last ones. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you to the Garden Room.”

  Alice led the way up the stairs. She opened the door for them and stood aside so they could enter. A b
edside lamp gave the room a welcoming glow.

  “What a lovely room,” Reba declared, turning around in a circle, taking in the soft shades of green and the floral border along the wainscoting and the ceiling. “I’m an avid gardener, so this couldn’t be more perfect. We must come back when we can stay more than one night, Harry.”

  “Yes, dear,” he said, carrying their suitcases to the end of the bed and setting them down. He gave his wife an indulgent smile.

  Alice loved this room. They had decorated the room that had belonged to their parents in honor of their mother, who’d loved gardening. The rich rosewood bedroom suite added elegance to the space. It always gave Alice special satisfaction when they picked the perfect room for their guests.

  “Breakfast is served from seven to nine, so come down whenever you’re ready. I hope that you’ll be quite comfortable here.”

  “Thank you. I think we’ll turn in early. We keep farmers’ hours,” Reba explained.

  “Good night then. If you need anything, let me know.”

  Alice went downstairs in time to see Jane registering another couple. They looked about the same ages as the Gladstones. The man was stocky and also of average height. His gray-streaked brown hair curled around the edges of his ball cap. He removed the hat and ran his hand over his smooth, shiny scalp.

  “I hope you don’t have railroad tracks running right through the backyard,” he said. “Can’t stand the noise of the city.”

  Alice couldn’t help wondering where this couple lived, if he considered the tiny metropolis of Acorn Hill a city.

  “We don’t have trains running anywhere near the inn,” Jane said. “I’ve given you the Sunset Room, which has a private bathroom, but I can put you in the back of the house if you’d prefer. It might be quieter.”

  “The Sunset Room will be fine,” the wife said. She gave her husband a challenging look. He didn’t respond.

  “Let me show you to your room then,” Jane said. She turned to lead the way, but the woman marched to the stairs in front of her. Alice stepped out of the way. Jane rolled her eyes at Alice as she passed. The man followed, dragging a large suitcase.

  The woman marched like an army sergeant, hands fisted and swinging purposefully at her sides as she climbed the stairs. At the top, she stood aside, waiting for Jane to take the lead. Then she fell into step after Jane, but in front of her husband.

  Alice went to the kitchen, shaking her head. What a difference from the sweet couple she had just registered. She brewed a cup of tea and was removing the tea bag when Jane came into the kitchen.

  “Whew. Delmer Wesley is not a happy camper. Makes you wonder why they would travel all this distance for one night.” Jane shook her head.

  Alice had wondered the same thing about both of their guest couples. Both had wanted to come for the weekend, but settled for this one night.

  “I don’t know. Whatever the case, they’ll only be here until noon tomorrow.”

  “I’m going up to my room. Can I help you before I retire for the night?” Alice asked.

  “No, you go ahead. I’m going to try a batch of pumpkin popovers before I go to bed. Sleep well,” Jane said.

  “Thanks, I will.” Alice took her cup of tea and headed for the stairs. She opened the door of the parlor, where Louise was working on an arrangement for a duet for her piano students.

  “Goodnight,” Alice called out. Louise looked up over the top of her reading glasses.

  “Is it that late already?” Louise looked at her watch.

  “Nine thirty and I have to work tomorrow. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  Alice could hear voices on the second floor as she reached the landing. There was usually something satisfying about the sounds of guests occupying their home, but not this time.

  “I will not be a party to your shenanigans,” a harsh voice said, coming from the direction of the Sunset Room. The voice was shrill, causing the words to carry. It was the wife. Alice was not inclined toward eavesdropping on the argument, but she couldn’t help hearing. She hurried across the landing and up the stairs to the third floor.

  Whatever did she mean, his shenanigans? What was the man planning to do? And where? Probably nothing important, Alice decided. Maybe the man was a practical joker.

  Jane rolled out of bed and shut off her alarm clock on the third ring. She flipped on her bedside lamp to the lowest setting and squinted against the glare. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she slowly opened them and let them adjust to the light.

  Four thirty. She hoped her alarm hadn’t awakened her sisters. The three of them occupied the only rooms on the third floor, leaving the second floor for their guests. Louise and Alice rose early, but not two hours before dawn. Jane dressed in canary yellow sweatpants, a white T-shirt and a soft yellow sweatshirt. She wasn’t likely to encounter vehicles at this hour of the morning, but if she did, they’d be sure to see her.

  Jane tiptoed to the back stairs, carrying her running shoes, and descended to the kitchen as noiselessly as possible. She had to suppress a giggle. If anyone saw her, they’d think she was a thief sneaking around. But the guests wouldn’t use the back stairway, which was marked For Emergencies Only.

  I must be crazy, she thought, looking out the kitchen window as she put on her shoes. It’s pitch-black outside. Only a sliver of moon was visible. There’d be little illumination while she ran.

  Grabbing a small flashlight, Jane went out the back door. Skirting the driveway, walking on the grass close to the house so she wouldn’t make any noise, Jane reached the street. The cold penetrated her cotton pants. At least the grass didn’t have the telltale white sheen of frost yet, but weather could change quickly this time of year, so Jane kept an eye on the forecast for the first dip below freezing so she could cover her plants. She didn’t want to lose anything in her garden. Her breath puffed little clouds in front of her as she headed down Chapel Road to town, where streetlamps would light her way.

  She’d forgotten her Mp3 player, so her only music was the sound of her feet hitting the sidewalk, pounding a beat as she ran. Fred’s Hardware was dark inside except for a dim light over the front window display of rakes and leaf blowers. The light was just enough for Jane to see her reflection whizzing by in the front window.

  The pharmacy and the General Store were dark and deserted. The streets were empty of cars. She’d never before ventured downtown at such an early hour. She shivered at the lonely, unnatural feeling.

  A bright overhead light illuminated the front of the fire department, raising her spirits, although the building looked deserted too.

  As she ran past the Cat Rescue Center, she triggered an alarm of meowing and caterwauling that set off a dog somewhere nearby. She smiled, glad for the sound of company on her solitary run.

  She circled around to Village Road and ran past the lovely old stone Presbyterian Church with its backlit stained glass windows sending soft colors into the dark night. Its modern sign was lit inviting all to enter and find fellowship and rest for their souls. Jane felt suddenly warmed and comforted.

  As she ran up the hill, leaving the streetlights behind, she flicked on her flashlight and shined it out in front of her. It bobbed as she jogged. She grunted out a laugh. What a sight she must be.

  Past the houses, the world seemed suddenly vast and empty. Dry corn stalks rustled in the slight breeze on her left. She startled some animal and it scurried away. She shined her flashlight in the direction of the sound, but the creature had moved out of sight.

  Jane alternated walking and jogging past farmland and forest until she finally circled back and came down the hill on Chapel Road toward the house. Still an hour before sunrise, the sky had lightened to the color of brushed steel as she walked the last quarter mile, letting her breathing slow and her muscles relax. She’d turned off the flashlight and was enjoying the muted landscape as she neared the driveway.

  A movement on the far side of the house caught her attention. A deer, perhaps, headed for the gard
en. So far, the fence had kept critters out. She hurried her steps, intent on scaring the animal away, when she realized the early morning visitor moved on two legs.

  Not wanting to disturb a guest, Jane slowed her pace and hung back. Having early risers for guests happened frequently. Jane usually started her day by 6:00 AM and had the coffeepot going soon after. She’d hoped for time to shower before she started breakfast, so she’d decided to start the coffee before she went up to change.

  The early morning guest wasn’t wandering leisurely along the path to the garden. He or she was skulking, slightly hunched over, moving slowly, as if sneaking through the yard. Perhaps it wasn’t a guest. But who else would be moving through their yard at such an odd hour?

  At the garden gate, the figure turned and looked to the left, then to the right, then lifted the latch and pushed open the gate.

  Jane couldn’t imagine what the intruder could be after. A carrot? A fresh tomato picked and eaten right off the vine? If the guest would come to the kitchen, Jane would be happy to give him whatever he desired and it would be washed. There was a bench in the garden. Maybe the man just wanted to sit in the garden and pray.

  Jane moved along the grass, so she wouldn’t disturb anyone. Before she reached the back porch, another figure stepped out from the side of the house and moved toward the garden.

  At first she thought it might be the man’s wife, but the form plodded along, a man with heavy steps, making no attempt to keep his presence a secret. Curious, Jane kept close to the house so she wouldn’t be detected. When she reached the back door, she heard a deep cough.

  “Who’s there?” the man in the garden called out in a hushed but audible voice.

  “What are you doing here?” the other man asked. He kept his tone low. Nevertheless, Jane had no trouble making out his words. By his inflection, she got the impression that he knew the other man.