Harriet Wilson doesn't think much of anyone who hasn't been in Redemption Creek for at least three generations. Martha scoffed. And she's been particularly sour since she heard you visited the Circle T on Sunday. Faith's cheeks warmed. It was just a neighborly invitation.
Mm. Hum. Martha's knowing smile suggested she thought otherwise. A neighborly invitation from the most eligible bachelor in the county. A man who's never shown particular interest in any woman until now.
Martha, it's not like that at all. Yates Mr. Turner is just being kind to newcomers. Is that why he rode by the schoolhouse twice today? Just being kind.
Faith stared at her. He rode by. I didn't see him. Well, you were busy with your students, but Peter noticed, and so did half the town, I'd wager. Martha patted Faith's hand.
It's nothing to be embarrassed about, dear. Yates Turner is a good man, hardworking, honest, and by all accounts, a gentleman, and it's been nearly 2 years since Thomas passed. "I'm not looking for a husband," Faith protested. "I came here to make a new start for Emma and myself to be independent. Independence is all well and good, but a woman alone faces challenges a man doesn't.
Martha's expression grew serious. I'm not saying you should marry the first man who shows interest. I'm saying you shouldn't close your heart to possibilities because you're afraid of being hurt again. Faith sighed, glancing at Emma, who is now drawing pictures on her slate. It's not just about me, Martha.
Emma's already lost one father. I can't risk her becoming attached to someone who might not stay. Fair enough, Martha conceded. But from what I hear, Yates Turner isn't the type to make promises lightly. When he told your daughter she had a father now, I suspect he meant it in some fashion, whether as a friend, a protector, or perhaps something more in time.
Before Faith could respond, the schoolhouse door opened again. This time it was Yates himself, had in hand, looking slightly hesitant to find Faith not alone. "Mrs. Jenkins," he greeted Martha. "I hope I'm not interrupting." "Not at all," Martha replied with a smile that was almost mischievous.
"I was just dropping off some supper for our hardworking teacher, but I should be getting back. Peter will be wondering where I've gone off to." She gathered her shawl around her shoulders. Faith, enjoy the chicken while it's hot. Good evening, Mr. Turner.