Page 36 of Taming Lady Temperance

“I share my story for two reasons. First, I hope that giving you a glimpse into my life helps you to know me better. I love what this society represents, and I want to be a sister to each of you. Second, I want you to understand why I am so passionate about supporting the temperance movement. I’ve witnessed firsthand the power of liquor to destroy a life and damage a family. I can’t abide the thought of there being another little girl or boy in our community huddling beneath their bed, hiding from a drunken father who could strike them at any moment. Our children deserve to be safe in their homes.”

Heads began to nod, and Noreen’s confidence grew.

“That is why I am proposing that we sponsor a temperance parade. Not only for our society to participate in, but for us to invite all members of the community to join. It would be a short parade around the square. Those who wish to carry signs may, but it is not required. We can sing temperance hymns, and those who feel comfortable can distribute temperance pledges to encourage sobriety. If all you feel comfortable doing is walking, that is fine, too. A show of numbers makes a statement all on its own. A statement I hope will convince the city council to declare Albany a dry town. Parson Cowan has already agreed to lead a short prayer meeting at the conclusion of our rally. My hope is that each of the ministers in town will announce the event to their congregations so that we might have a strong showing from the entire community. But we need a group of women to organize and lead the effort, and I can think of no better group than our society.” Her gaze skimmed over the assembly, briefly meeting the eyes of every lady in the room. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Feeling raw and exposed yet filled with more hope than she’d felt toward her community in quite some time, Noreen folded her notes and walked back toward her seat.

“Thank you for your impassioned presentation, Noreen.” Miss Lockwood resumed her place at the front of the room as Noreen slid into her chair.

Jane leaned close and offered a smile. “You did it,” she whispered.

“We’ll see.”

Miss Lockwood looked out over the group. “As a reminder, we need a majority vote to confirm a service project. If you vote to accept a proposal, that does not obligate you to participate, but I urge you only to vote for a project that you believe will be beneficial for the society as a whole.”

Was that an endorsement or a warning not to endorse? Noreen’s hand fisted around her notes with painful tightness. Jane reached over and covered Noreen’s hand with her own.

“All right, ladies. It’s time to vote. Let’s see a show of hands. How many vote in favor of sponsoring a temperance parade?”

Chapter

18

Temperance Rally Set for End of Month

Support the betterment of the Albany community by participating in a temperance parade and rally on Saturday, April 28, at 4:00 p.m. Event is open to everyone. Supporters may gather at the Albany Baptist Church at 2:00 p.m. to make signs and practice temperance hymns. Light refreshments will be served. Parade participants will leave the church promptly at 4:00 p.m. and head south on Walnut to S. 2nd Street, then turn west to circle the courthouse square before concluding by heading north on Main. A short prayer meeting near the corner of Main and First Streets will follow the conclusion of the parade. Players of musical instruments are particularly encouraged to attend.

Questions may be addressed to Miss Noreen O’Sullivan.

“What do you think?” Noreen chewed on the edge of her tongue as she waited impatiently for James to finish reading through the draft of her newspaper article.

Last week, the society voted 11–3 in favor of her service project. Miss Lockwood had abstained from the vote to avoid unduly influencing the group, but she’d pledged her support after the meeting. A fact that still set Noreen to reeling six days later, if she stopped to consider it for more than a moment at a time. Yet despite the show of acceptance from her spinster sisters, a part of her craved acceptance from another quarter. Hence why she’d brought her newspaper announcement to James tonight after Martha and Jane had proofread it for her during their Tuesday Tea.

His mouth turned up at one corner, and her heart did a ridiculous series of flips at his small show of approval.

“Clever,” he murmured before looking up and sharing those beautiful blue eyes with her. Eyes twinkling with good humor.

Heavens, but those twinkles set her insides to dancing. One would think she’d be used to them by now, as often as they appeared, but they tickled her belly every time. She’d even started seeking them out, developing a craving for them probably not too dissimilar from the lure of liquor to a drunkard.

The dancing in her midsection halted abruptly. Goodness. Was she experiencing an addiction? To a man’s smile? What a horrendous thought. It couldn’t possibly be the same. James’s smiles might invoke certain cravings, but they weren’t unhealthy. They induced no stupidity or hangovers. Well, unless one counted that dinner debacle last week and the mental moping that occurred on days when she didn’t see him. But never mind that. There was nothing wrong with enjoying something that lifted her spirits and lightened her mood. Except that was exactly the type of argument her father used to make.

She gave her head a little shake. It was not the same. James was all that was kind and gentle and peace loving. Being addicted to his smile and his company encouraged her. It didn’t eat away at her insides like poison, turning her into a cruel, unfeeling monster.

His smile flattened as his brows arched. “Why are you shaking your head? This is great.”

And she was overthinking everything. Again.

“Do you think so?” She nudged aside the empty plate left over from the beef dinner she’d brought to the jailhouse. “I did my best to refrain from proselytizing. I wanted it to sound like any other community event. Like the Founder’s Day parade or the community picnic on the Fourth of July.”

That wonderful, tummy-tickling smile returned. “You succeeded. That is exactly the impression I received as I read it. I liked the addition of the instruments, too. Makes it feel fun and festive.”

“The temperance movement in England has been using brass bands in their cause for decades.” She shrugged. “I thought it might help draw attention to the parade.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea. Hard to resist a band.”

Hard to resist you when you look at me as if you respect and appreciate my ideas.

Stars and garters. If she didn’t get control of her mind—and fast—something embarrassing was going to slip out of her mouth and make a fool of her.