A Touch of Grace (29 page)

“Mrs. Smithston took Grace—” He stopped himself at her raised eyebrow. “Er, Miss Knutson to her room to freshen up. Mary Anne went with them.”

“Good. The poor child, traveling like that on such short notice. Does she have all she will need to live here?”

“If you are referring to the latest style in dresses, no. But I knew you would remedy that and have a wonderful time doing so.” He accepted the cut-crystal glass of tea, the tinkle of ice a welcome sound.

“I sweetened it just the way you like it and added mint syrup, just a trifle.”

He took a swallow and closed his eyes. “Ah, what a treat.”

“They did not have tea in Blessing?”

“I’m sure they did, but the Bjorklunds are coffee drinkers. Black coffee. While it took some doing, I learned to leave off the cream and sugar. Ice ran out in July. The refrigeration was a tank of water in the well house. They used kerosene lamps for light and cooked on a castiron range that burned coal or wood. Everyone there works harder than I could have believed before I lived there.” He set his glass down and took her hands. “And, Mother, I loved every minute of it. Well, after I got used to it, if I’m going to be honest.”

She rubbed her thumbs over his hands, then picked one up and turned it over, running her finger over the callouses and the scar from where he cut himself with the knife while repairing the harness.

“Your hands tell a tale of their own. Did you not use any lotion or salve?”

“None. I was grateful for the leather gloves, but even so, I got blisters that made my hands look like chopped meat.” He looked at his hands, spreading the fingers wide. “I can milk cows with the best of them, drive four-up horse teams, set posts in holes and string wire for fences, run machinery, shovel out the barn, and spade the garden, and I never knew how fascinating is the process of making cheese. Oh, Mrs. Bjorklund sent you some. No wonder the Bjorklund cheese is prized everywhere.”

His mother sat down and indicated the chair next to her. “Did you not miss your life here at all?”

He started to shake his head but quickly thought the better of it and answered with a rueful smile. “I hardly had any time to think of the past. I was always busy trying to learn all I could so that I would not be a burden, and by night, I fell into bed so exhausted I couldn’t think.” He glanced toward the house.
Grace, are you all right? How can I help you?

“I am so glad to have you home, yet you will leave again soon.”

“I know. Did Father mention anything about the school for Grace?”

“Yes, he contacted them as you requested. They have agreed to interview her to see if she is a suitable candidate for their program.” Geraldine Gould sat back slightly in her chair, straight and not touching the chair back.

“I see.” A suitable candidate, if that doesn’t say a ream of thought in a few words. He reminded himself not to push too hard and be extra charming to keep his mother on his side. He’d always known he was her fair-haired boy, no matter how dark his hair. Being her eldest son had some advantages, since the mother of his older siblings had died and she was the second wife. “Where are my brothers?”

“David is spending a week with friends at the shore, and Daniel is having a tennis lesson. He will be back soon. He wanted to skip in order to be here when you returned but acquiesced when I insisted he keep to the schedule.”

“Why make him learn tennis when he’d much rather be reading?” At the slight change in her smile, he knew he’d made a gaff. Playing tennis was an important part of summers at the shore, and she expected her children to be at least adequate in all areas of sports and social graces. Proficient was more suitable. He thought of Astrid and Grace making light of working in the garden. What would they think of tennis and lawn bowling, croquet and badminton for an afternoon’s entertainment, and changing clothes again for dinner and dancing in the evening? Although they loved to dance, the parties in Blessing were few and far between.

Was bringing Grace back here a wise move or a horrendous mistake?

Grace hung her traveling suit in the spacious armoire. After washing her face, hands, and neck, she felt much cooler and a bit more ready to face the unknown. At least the nausea had stopped. She stood in front of the mirror and unpinned her hair, letting the golden mass fall around her shoulders. Looking longingly at the tub, she instead picked up the brush she found lying along with a comb on a glass shelf and tried to brush the travel dust away. If only she could lie down and sleep for a week, then take a bath in that tub big enough for three, wash her hair, and sleep for another week. Instead, she wound her gathered hair around her fingers and pinned it again at the back of her head up off her neck. She felt a slight breeze coming through the open window from the parklike place behind the house. She expected Jonathan was regaling his mother with stories of his summer in Blessing. What would she think of them? Life in Blessing was so far removed from this world. How had Jonathan ever managed? How would she manage here?

She stared into the face in the mirror. “Well, best to beard the lion.” The face staring back needed to smile and make sure to include the eyes. She turned away and, after shaking out her black serge skirt, took a deep breath and strode toward the door, where she hoped Mary Anne with an
e
was still waiting.
Lord, please continue your peace
in me
.

“C
AN YOU REALLY READ LIPS
?”

Grace nodded with a smile. “Otherwise I would not know how to answer you.”

“You can’t hear a thing?” The girl frowned and shook her head when Grace shook hers. “That’s awful.”

“I learned to live with it. But I can also talk with my fingers.” She made several signs.

Mary Anne stared at the gracefully moving fingers, then up at Grace’s face. “What did you say?”

“Mary Anne.”

“Can you teach me?”

“If you like. Your brother knows the alphabet and some other signs. He wants to learn too.” Grace pointed at the grass stain.

“I couldn’t get it out, not even with soap.”

“If you scrub it good and lay it in the sunshine on the grass, the stain will disappear.”

“If I scrub me good and lay me in the grass, will I disappear?” Her laughing eyes said she was joking.

Grace grinned back at her. “I most certainly hope not.”

Mary Anne took her hand. “Come on. Mother is waiting.”

Oh, I don’t think she’s waiting too eagerly. I think she’s probably glad
to have her son all to herself
. Grace allowed the girl to lead her back down the hall to the staircase, down and out the French doors. Even with all the green grass and trees, the air didn’t smell anything like that of the wide open skies of North Dakota. However, once they took a few steps out onto the flagstone terrace, the fragrance of the formal rose beds that bordered each side of the beautifully laid cut rock made her smile. Grace sneaked glimpses of vibrant reds, pinks, yellows, and whites as she walked with her escort to the decorative iron table with matching chairs and a huge umbrella.

Jonathan stood and turned to smile at her as soon as he heard them approach. “I was beginning to think I needed to come fetch you.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, not at all. Mother, I want you to meet Miss Grace Knutson.” He took her hand and drew her closer.

“Welcome to New York, Miss Knutson.”

Mrs. Gould extended her hand so Grace shook it gently. Grace had never seen a hand so smooth and unmarred.

“I hear I have much to thank you for?”

Grace glanced at Jonathan with a questioning look.

“I’ve been telling her of all the help you and Astrid were to me.”

Grace turned to his mother. “I think the reality is all the help he was to us. Your son worked harder than anyone this summer.”

“I had to prove I wasn’t just a stuck-up city boy.”

Grace rolled her lips together. He must have heard someone talking at home. “You proved that, all right.”

“Please, won’t you sit down?” Mrs. Gould indicated a chair. “Mary Anne, would you please walk nicely and ask Cook for more ice?”

Mary Anne nodded, but it was only three steps before she skipped two, sobered, sent a glance at her mother, and tried again to walk nicely.

Since Grace was facing that way, she saw it all. Did they expect Mary Anne to act like an adult all the time? What was wrong with a little girl running and skipping? When she turned her attention back to the conversation, she realized she’d missed part of it.

“Mother was asking how your train ride was,” Jonathan filled in for her.

Long, hot, dirty, and …
“The scenery, especially through the mountains, was beautiful. I had never seen such variety of land before or realized how big this country is.” Grace leaned forward. “Your roses are lovely.”

“Thank you. The fragrance makes sitting out here such a pleasure. Did you find everything to your satisfaction in the Rose Room?” She glanced up to see her daughter carrying back a cut-glass bowl of ice. “Thank you, dear. Set it right here.”

But before she could reach the table, Jonathan stood and took the bowl and set it on the glass-topped serving cart. “Now, who would like more ice in their tea? Grace, here is a glass for you.” At the censorious look on his mother’s face, he caught his error. “Mary Anne, would you please hand this to Miss Knutson? And the plate of cookies too.”

“I’d like more ice.” Mrs. Gould held her glass up. “Please.” She looked at her daughter. “Were there no servants available to help you?”

Mary Anne held the plate for Grace. “No, Mother, and Cook was up to her elbows in flour getting ready for the—” She stopped, glanced at Jonathan, and set the plate back on the table after taking two cookies, one lemon and one spiced, and sat in her chair, swinging her legs as she took the first bite.

Jonathan watched his sister for a moment then turned toward his mother. “Father referred to a surprise in his letter, and I sense busyness among the staff today. Anything special going on?”

Mrs. Gould smiled. “Well, yes. I’d have rather waited until dinner, but since you’ve been so observant, we have some guests coming tonight. I know you’re probably tired, but this was the only evening she was available, and I knew you wouldn’t want to miss seeing her again.”

His face flushed and jaw tightened. “Who would that be, Mother?”

“The Bloomquist niece from Chicago, whom you spent so much time with over the Christmas holidays. She was disappointed when she arrived at the shore and found you were in North Dakota, so we arranged a small dinner party this evening.”

Jonathan looked like he’d swallowed bees. “Mother, I have absolutely no interest in the Bloomquist niece. I was simply being polite at Christmas, and she was the least obnoxious of all the young ladies.”

Grace saw Mary Anne hide a giggle behind her cookie.

“Her family has excellent connections, Jonathan. I am shocked at your rudeness.”

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I really did not expect to be social on my first night home.”

Mrs. Gould turned back to Grace. “There is sugar and lemon for your tea if you prefer.”

Grace set her glass down. “No thank you. This is very good.” She tried to keep track of the conversation, but weariness was not only catching up with her but running her down. Also, she felt she was intruding on a family issue. She nibbled the cookies, drank her tea, and wished she were at home. Trying to hide a yawn behind her hand, she drank some more iced tea.

She glanced up in time to see a frown flitter across Mrs. Gould’s forehead. Jonathan touched her arm. “Mother wondered if you would like to take a nap before dinner.”

“Oh yes, please. Pardon me, I had no idea I was so tired.”

“I’ll take you.” Mary Anne slid off her chair, stuffed a cookie into her pocket, and took Grace’s hand. “Miss Knutson is going to teach me sign language. Would you like to learn too, Mother?”

“We shall see.” She smiled at Grace. “I’m sure you will feel better after a lie-down. I return from a train trip exhausted. Why, it takes me two or three days to recuperate.”

“Yes. Thank you, ma’am—Mrs. Gould.” Grace followed her escort; sure she was as glad to be away from there as Mary Anne was.

Grace removed her shoes and lay down on the bed, wishing she could stay awake long enough to take a bath. But with the state she was in, she might fall asleep and drown. Falling asleep was like tumbling down the rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland.

Darkness, but for a small lit lamp by the door, filled the room as Grace fought to remember where she was. How long had she been asleep? A light blanket had been placed over her, so someone had come in to check on her. She stretched and wiggled her toes. After making use of the facilities, she returned to her room and turned on the lamp by the bed only to discover a tray with sliced cheese, crackers, a little dish of blueberries and cream, and several of the cookies like those she’d had with the iced tea. A folded little piece of stiff paper lay beside the spoon. She unfolded it and read,
Since you missed
dinner, I brought you something in case you are hungry
. The childish hand was signed
Mary Anne
.