“Now, I see we have some new folks with us today, and while I don’t know exactly who they are or how they will affect my life or yours, I’m asking you all to make them feel welcome after the service. And with that, I think Ralph has another song for us to sing.”
The song leader nodded to the organist, and the music started up once again. Owen smiled. Pastor Lewis always made his day better.
When the services were concluded, Owen slipped over to speak with LeRoy and Lia. The boys were immediately all over him.
“Uncle Owen, you gonna take us fishing today?”
“Not today, boys,” their father answered. “Remember, we’re heading to Poppy’s ranch to celebrate his birthday.”
“You’re welcome to join us, Owen. My father loves you,” Lia declared. “We’re taking the train both ways, so it won’t take long at all.”
“No. I didn’t sleep well last night and believe I’ll take a nap.”
LeRoy laughed. “Take one for me too.”
Owen promised he would, then made his way outside. He glanced around, hoping to find the new folks so he could give them a proper greeting as the pastor had asked them to do. He spotted the older man and woman along with a young man he presumed was their son. They were talking to Pastor Lewis and his wife. Owen rounded the corner of the church and made his way toward a gathering of folks, where he found the young woman who’d caught his attention.
“Owen, I’m glad you’re here,” one of the ladies called. “Come meet Mrs. Jenkins.”
Missus, eh? Well, somehow that figured. Owen gave a wave to acknowledge he’d heard the request and made his way over. Mrs. Jenkins glanced up, smiling, and for a moment Owen felt his breath catch. She stepped away from the others and extended her hand. He reached to take hold in greeting.
Just then the squeals of children at play built to a crescendo as a herd of children came barreling at them. Two little girls were leading the way with a jump rope between them. One headed right and one left, resulting in Owen and Mrs. Jenkins being caught in the middle.
Owen grabbed hold of Mrs. Jenkins just as the rope snagged him behind the knees. The girls seemed immediately to know what they’d done wrong and ran back toward each other, further entangling the two adults. As Owen and Mrs. Jenkins began to fall, he rotated to take her weight atop him so he wouldn’t crush her. With a whoosh, they landed on the ground, bound face-to-face by the rope.
Owen couldn’t help but smile at Mrs. Jenkins’s surprised expression. “Welcome to San Marcial,” he declared, laughing.
To his surprise, she started laughing as well. The folks around them laughed as Owen sorted out the rope and got to his feet. He reached down to help Mrs. Jenkins, who was by now laughing so hard that she could hardly sit up. Her humor at the situation only made him like her all the more. It was a pity she was married.
He took her hand, but instead of pulling her to her feet, Owen was nearly forced to his knees. It was like trying to gather water. Her mirth made her completely useless. The people around her laughed all the more and offered a hand, but it seemed almost impossible to get Mrs. Jenkins to her feet even though she was but a slip of a gal.
Finally, however, they had her upright. She dabbed at her cheeks and shook her head as she met Owen’s gaze. “Well, I suppose I’ve made quite the impression.”
By now the older man and woman, as well as the younger man, had come to see what the ruckus was. The older woman looked quite put out. “Susanna, conduct yourself.”
“I am, Mother. I am but doing a poor job of it.”
“Nonsense,” an older woman from the church declared. “This is the best time any of us have had in ages. It does a soul so much good to laugh.”
“Being laughed at is hardly the impression a widow needs to be making,” the stranger said, shaking her head.
“We’re not laughing at her, ma’am,” Owen said, realizing that he still held fast to Mrs. Jenkins’s arm.
“Of course they aren’t,” Mrs. Jenkins declared. She looked at Owen. “Thank you for the rescue. I’m Susanna Jenkins.”
“Owen Turner.”
The pastor joined them. “I see you’ve met the Widow Jenkins, Owen. Leave it to you to get wrapped up with one of the purdiest gals to grace our spread.”
The comments about Mrs. Jenkins’s widowhood were not lost on Owen. He looked at her, unable to keep the surprise from his expression as he let go of her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Mrs. Jenkins nodded. “Thank you.” She sobered and began to dust off her dress.
People began talking of other things, and Owen felt he’d somehow overstepped his bounds.
“These are my parents, Mr. Turner,” Mrs. Jenkins said, “Mr. and Mrs. Ragsdale. And my brother, Gary.”
Her introduction furthered his embarrassment. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’m Owen Turner. I work for the Santa Fe, as most of us do.”
“I’d like to talk to you about it,” Gary said. “I don’t know anybody here or anything about the railroad, but I’m thinking about getting a job with them.”
“Well, maybe you’d all like to be my guests for lunch.” Owen wanted to kick himself. Why had he just done that? “At the Harvey House,” he hurried to add.
“We were headed there,” the older man declared. “It would be very neighborly of you to have us as your guests.”
Owen nodded. “Then it’s settled. Come on. I always have a table waiting for me on Sunday.”
3
Lunch with Owen passed quickly, and before she knew it, Susanna was walking by his side as they made their way back to the hotel. Mother and Father had left the restaurant early because Mother had declared the heat was making her ill, but both seemed to like Owen well enough, as they insisted he would be invited to dinner one evening soon.
Gary remained to discuss his sudden fascination with the Santa Fe Railway, making it perfectly acceptable for Owen and Susanna to be together without causing a stir. Still, Susanna couldn’t help but wonder what others might be thinking after their pandemonium in the churchyard that morning.
“It sounds like a real adventure working with the railroad. Do you think I could try my hand at it?” Gary asked Owen.
“I’m sure with all the different jobs available that you could find something you’d enjoy or at least be good at.”
“Could I work with you?”
Owen looked from the younger man to Susanna and back again. “Well, it’s entirely possible, but I can’t say for certain. I do have say in hiring for my department, however.”
“Then that’s what I want. I think it would help a lot to know the person I was working with. I mean, you seem like a nice enough fellow.”
“I’m a hard taskmaster,” Owen countered. “You should know that about me. I believe in hard work. I put in a full day’s work and then some. I expect those working with me to do the same.”
“That makes sense to me,” Gary replied. He sounded so naïve.
“Working in the shops is like nothing you’ve ever known,” Owen continued. “It’s usually one-hundred-twenty degrees, if not more, in there during the summer. It melts the fat right off your body and bakes your brain. It won’t be easy. You’ll have to get your mind around that fast, or you’ll never last. You really ought to think about it for a few days, Gary. You only just arrived, and frankly, running a hotel would be a whole lot easier.”