Page 34 of Taming Lady Temperance

James started second-guessing his impromptu strategy. “If you’d rather not, I completely understand. We can just take a walk around the block, and I’ll return you to the boardinghouse before—”

“Dinner sounds lovely.” Her posture had straightened while he’d fumbled to provide her a way to turn him down gracefully. The fire he so admired returned to her gaze and had him standing a bit taller, too. “I’m famished.”

His chest expanded, and a smile spread across his face that had nothing to do with placation and everything to do with the joy found in sharing company with a woman he admired.

“Wonderful!” Not sure either one of them was ready for him to offer her his arm, he simply turned in the direction of the town square and held out his palm in invitation. “Shall we?”

She smiled and fell into step at his side, a rather comfortable place for her to be, now that he thought about it.

He turned to her as they strolled past the boardinghouse, hoping to distract her from the nosy landlady peeking through the curtains. “Did I ever tell you about the goat that kept an outlaw from escaping by eating his underpants?”

“What?” The burble of laughter that followed that word was about the prettiest sound he’d ever heard.

Noreen arrived early to the schoolhouse the following evening, nervous about her presentation to the society. She’d prepared notes, practiced in the confines of her room, and prayed over it during her shift at the hotel, but her stomach remained a ball of knots. She’d even broached the subject with James last night as he walked her back to the boardinghouse. He had no idea who she was planning to recruit—not specifically, anyway—but he still offered suggestions for her pitch.

Suggestions that would be quite a challenge to implement. Like not trying to convince people to see things her way but trying to see things from their perspective and figure out how to align the rally with ideas they already valued. Hard to do when she was still getting to know her fellow spinsters. She did recall from their first meeting that several ladies disliked the idea of militant women marching in the streets for the cause of suffrage. Temperance might be a different cause, but marching would likely still garner disapproval. She planned to use words like parade instead of march and to emphasize the singing of temperance hymns and the prayer meeting at the conclusion of the event in an effort to downplay any militant imagery. It might not work, especially since most people viewed her as rather confrontational, but if Jane’s theory proved correct about her personal story softening hearts, she might stand a chance.

Martha glanced up from her teaching desk when Noreen entered the classroom.

“Grading papers?” Noreen asked as she walked down the center aisle, empty student desks on either side.

Visions of her spinster sisters filling those seats populated her mind as she moved. Unfortunately, the imaginary apparitions all wore frowns and censorious scowls. Noreen’s steps slowed as the knots in her belly tightened.

“Going over my geography lesson for tomorrow, actually.” Martha smiled as she closed her notebook and pushed to her feet. “I’m glad you came early. You can see what the room looks like from up here so it won’t feel so strange later.”

Noreen drew to a halt, energy suddenly draining from her limbs. “Is this a fool’s errand, Martha? No one has welcomed my temperance ideas in the past. What if all I manage to do is alienate the very women I hope to call my sisters?”

Martha stepped around her desk and moved to meet Noreen in the aisle. She wrapped her arm around Noreen’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “The Lord knows what is best. For you. For the society. For our community. Leave the outcome in his hands, and he’ll take you where you need to go.”

“Easier said than done,” Noreen murmured.

“True.” Martha laughed softly, then took Noreen’s hand and led her to the head of the class. “I’m better at dispensing advice than applying it to myself.”

They reached the front of the room, and Martha took hold of Noreen’s shoulders as if she were a pupil preparing for a class presentation. “You are the most fearless person I know, Noreen O’Sullivan. Just because you are changing tactics and making yourself vulnerable tonight, don’t forget that you’ve been given not a ‘spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’ Strength, heart, and intelligence. You possess all three. Usually, you let your strength drive your words, but tonight let it drive your faith as your heart and mind shape your message.”

Noreen pressed her lips together as she struggled to contain her rising emotion. How many times had she quoted that verse to herself in order to shove aside her concern about what others might think and follow the conviction of her soul? Yet all this time, she’d only focused on the first gift—the spirit of power. As if power was the only way to combat fear. But it wasn’t. Love and a sound mind were equally potent weapons. Even now, Martha’s loving support was pushing back the insecurities and doubts as she used well-crafted, logical arguments to shore up Noreen’s mind.

“You’re among friends here,” Martha said. “Remember that.”

Noreen nodded as she let that truth sink into her spirit. She might not be able to control the outcome, but she could trust her friends to have her back. And more than that, she could trust the one who was in control to guide the outcome in the direction that best fit his purposes. For as much as she believed in the cause of temperance, she believed in God’s sovereignty more. Rushing ahead of his timing would only set her mission back, not move it forward. A hard pill to swallow for someone who had a problem with patience. But as Jane often said, how could one grow in patience unless the Lord provided opportunities for practice?

She’d never been much good at practice, either.

Noreen reached up and clasped Martha’s hand. “Thank you for being here.”

Martha tugged her into a hug, then blessed her with a confident smile. “You’re going to do great.” After stepping back, she raised a brow and shot Noreen a quizzical glance. “Now, what’s this I hear about you and a certain deputy being spotted having dinner together at the café last night? Are your days as a member of our spinster society dwindling?”

“Not you too!” Noreen let out a huff of breath that sounded like a laugh that had been caught in a meat grinder. “He’s just a friend, nothing more.” The giddiness that roused in her belly at the mention of James threatened to call her bluff, but her growing admiration for him didn’t change the fact that they could never be more than friends. Not with her past and his dreams for the future. “Deputy Paxton treated me to dinner in return for the meals I’ve been providing him at the jailhouse. Nothing romantic in nature, I assure you.”

Martha’s eyes sparkled. “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

“Leave Shakespeare out of this.”

“Ooh, Shakespeare? Which play are we discussing?” Jane traipsed down the aisle, the promise of discussing literature livening her usually sedate pace.

“The Merry Wives of Windsor.” Martha’s elbow nudged Noreen’s side in annoying exuberance.

Noreen shot her a glare. “You’re mistaken. It was Much Ado about Nothing, if you’ll recall.”