The Bluebird and the Sparrow by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online Page A

she began but didn’t know quite how to continue. Then her pride took over and she lifted her chin in defiance. “I did not drop it intentionally,” she declared stoutly. “I was not even aware that you were about.”
    Surprise registered on his face—but then he smiled. “Touché,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sure you didn’t.”
    Berta stood her ground, her armful of Sunday school materials held tightly against her white shirtwaist.
    “However,” said the young man, still appearing amused, “you may claim it if you wish.”
    Berta flushed. She reached out and took the hankie from him and spun on her heel. With head held high she marched on to the small room where her class of primary students awaited her Sunday morning instruction.
    But it was not easy to collect her thoughts. She kept seeing the amused brown eyes. The cleft in the strong chin. The sun-browned smooth cheeks that she somehow realized had been newly shaven. For the first time in her young life, Berta was smitten.
    ———
    His name was Parker Oliver. He was the son of the man who had purchased a local hotel. All the girls were swooning over him. Even Thomas Hawkins was no longer the frontrunner for feminine interest. Berta watched it all from a distance. She pretended she did not even know that he existed—that her pulse did not quicken each time he made an appearance.
    She lifted her head just a bit higher whenever she passed by him. For the first time in her life she was tempted to put just a bit of lace on her Sunday shirtwaists. To pin her hair a tiny bit looser, letting tendrils curl about her oval face.
    She flushed and chided herself and straightened her back to strengthen her resolve.
    But her resolve weakened each time he sent a smile her way. Each item in his Sunday wardrobe, each mannerism, each word he spoke in her hearing, was duly noted.
    But she pretended not to pay any attention.
    And then the inevitable happened.
    “Mama,” Glenna called before she had even closed the door behind her. “Oh, Mama—you’ll never guess! Parker has asked me to the corn roast. Oh—can I go, Mama? Please—please, say yes.” And Glenna threw herself at her mother’s knee.
    “Wait—” said her mother, and then managed a silvery laugh. “What’s this all about, child?”
    “Parker. Oh, Mama—he is—is just divine. And he asked me to the corn roast. Oh—I’ll just—just—weep if you don’t let me go.”
    Mrs. Berdette smiled. “Well—I’m thankful you didn’t use the annoying expression that you would just ‘die’,” she responded.
    “Well—I might do that too,” said Glenna, bringing another laugh from her mother.
    “Oh, I doubt that anything so dreadful as that would happen,” teased Mrs. Berdette.
    “Please, can I go? It’s well chaperoned. It’s a church party. Please, Mama.”
    No one had looked Berta’s direction. No one had seen her face turn ashen. No one noticed the pain darkening her eyes.
    She rose silently to her feet and moved toward the door while Glenna still babbled on in coaxing tone, trying to convince her mother that she was not too young to attend the youth corn roast with an escort.
    “You’re not yet fifteen,” Mrs. Berdette argued, but Berta thought she didn’t sound too firm in her position.
    “Everyone says I look and act at least sixteen,” Glenna was informing her mother as Berta stole from the room.
    Berta would not have denied the fact. Glenna was mature for her age. But Parker? Parker was nearing twenty. Berta had slyly wrangled the information from his kid sister. Did he really wish to attend with the young Glenna?
    Yes. Yes of course he did.
    All the boys wished to win the attention of her delightful sister. All the girls were secretly jealous of her—yet couldn’t keep from liking her, no matter how hard they tried. Berta knew that. Glenna was just—just Glenna. There was nothing about Glenna that one could dislike or disapprove of. She had always been that way. Always