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"Why were you surprised?" Megan asked. "It is a church. People have brought you orphans before."
"I know. It's a burden." Colleen grimaced. "This one was worse than all of them combined. She was filthy and smelled." She waved her hand in front of her face. "I don't know why people allow themselves to sink to such a state.''
Megan stared down at the box of buttons. For almost a month now, she'd been promising herself she would sort them by size and price. She drew in a deep breath and prayed for patience. Once Colleen told her story, she would be gone. Casually, Megan glanced at the clock and wondered how long it would take.
"Children don't usually have a choice about keeping themselves clean," Megan said curtly. "You can't blame the little girl if her mother didn't bathe her."
Colleen leaned over the counter. Her thick cloak completely covered the box of buttons and scattered the piles Megan had already sorted. "But the woman wasn't her mother."
Colleen glanced at the two other people in the store. Both were men. One was old Zeke from the livery stable. He couldn't hear too well. The other was Cameron Forbes, a handsome widower with a large farm just south of town. Cameron was at the far end, looking at some gardening tools Megan kept along the back wall. Even so, Colleen lowered her voice to a whisper.
" Yesterday, our new sheriff—" she said the last word with a sniff of contempt "— was going all around town asking about that dead prostitute.''
"I know." She was still smarting from his accusations. It didn't matter that she'd tried to explain. Justin hadn't cared. Megan wondered why he was always so quick to judge her.
"It was her child."
"Who was?"
Colleen glared at her. "Will you please pay attention. I'm trying to tell you. A horrible woman, her name was Mrs. Travis, or Jarvis, something like that. Anyway, she came to the church with the dirty, disgusting girl and told me she'd been paid to take care of her. The prostitute died, there's no more money and she wanted to thrust the child off on me." Colleen touched her pale white hand to her chest. "I was shocked. Gene was gone, of course. That man picks the most inconvenient times to visit sick people. I had to deal with this woman myself."
Megan pulled the box out from under Colleen's cape and started sorting the buttons again. "What happened?"
"I told her the truth. That I wasn't interested in the bastard child of some whore." Colleen smiled. "I told her a few other things, too, and sent her packing."
Megan stared at her sister. At times she found it hard to believe they'd had the same parents, grown up in the same house and lived similar lives. "You turned away the child?"
"Not just a child. I told you. A bastard. And her mother is-"
"Yes, I know what you said. You seem to enjoy saying those bad words, Colleen. Do you find it exciting?"
Her sister drew herself up to her full height, only an inch above her own, Megan told herself, refusing to be intimidated. "Don't you speak to me in that tone."
"I'll speak to you any way I like. You're not my mother."
Colleen's small hazel eyes narrowed. "I am married to the minister. You'd best keep that in mind."
The threat wasn't a new one. Megan knew she should be used to it by now, but every time her sister made it, she got a tight feeling in the bottom of her stomach. "You turned
her away. But she's just a little girl. Where is she going to go?"
"Why should I care about that? My heavens, Gene forces me to do charity work, as it is. That's enough for anyone. You can't expect me to take in a bastard."
Megan scooped up the loose buttons and dumped them back in the box. She reached for the lid, then fitted it in place. "She's just a little girl," she repeated. "It's not her fault who her parents are. Why are you so cruel?" She started toward the back of the store.
Colleen came after her. "I have a duty to this town and to the church. As the minister's wife, I must set an example."
"Exactly." Megan came to a stop and spun toward her sister. "An example of charity and caring."
"If you could have seen her. It was disgusting. And her father. He could have been anyone."
