Love takes wing (Love Comes Softly #7) (27 page)

223

notes, the answering correspondence from each of them had soon tapered off. Luke had reported in his letter that
Rand
stopped by last Saturday to invite Thomas and Aaron on a little fishing trip--and were they ever excited! Belinda smiled to herself as she imagined their enthusiastic chatter.

When Belinda had all her shopping done, her parcels wrapped, and her gifts on their way, there seemed to be nothing left to do except to wait out the days until Christmas finally arrived.

Belinda had never spent Christmas away from home before. She wondered just how Mrs. Stafford-Smyth celebrated the day. Surely one could not expect much in festivities with only two people.

Other than Pierre, Belinda still had not made any friends of her own age. True, there were a few young people whom she had met in his company, but now that he was gone, she had really lost contact with them. She supposed if things had been different and she had been included as staff in the big house as Potter seemed to feel was proper, she might have become friendly with Ella and Sarah. As it was, the girls spoke to her politely but did their talking and tittering outside of her hearing when they met each other in the halls or kitchen. Though she had tried to engage them in conversation, Belinda was not considered to be one of them.

The guests who joined Mrs. Stafford-Smyth for afternoon tea or an elaborate dinner were all older folk, and though Belinda was always expected to join them, she really did not feel part of those gatherings, either.

She took up handwork along with her walking and reading, and managed to tick the slow-moving days from her calendar, one by one.

Every day she spent some time with Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. She knew the older lady was as much in need of companionship as

224

she herself. Usually they sipped tea, chatted, and did some kind of needlework before an open fire.

In a way it was cozy--at least to an onlooker it would have seemed so. But Belinda knew that deep down inside she felt a restlessness--a loneliness--and she wasn't sure just what to do about it.

On one such day, while Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was working skillfully on a silk sampler and Belinda embroidered a pair of cotton pillowcases, they chatted easily about many things.

"It's hard to believe that next week is Christmas," Belinda observed. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth did not even lift her eyes from her needlework. Belinda thought at first that she had not even heard the comment. She was about to speak further when Mrs. Stafford-Smyth answered, still without lifting her head.

"There was a time when Christmas brought a flurry of excitement in this house," she remarked. Then she added slowly, almost tiredly, "But no more."

Belinda felt her heart sink. It sounded as though the lady was dismissing Christmas as of no consequence.

"How do you celebrate Christmas?" Belinda dared to ask. "Celebrate it? 'Spend it,' you mean. Much as we are spending today, I expect."

Belinda's eyes lifted from the pillowcases to study her older companion. She saw a droop to the shoulders and resignation in her face.

"But . . . but it's Christ's birthday!" Belinda could not help exclaiming.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth faced her then and her eyes brightened for a moment. "Oh, we go to the church service--to be sure. But there are no more stuffed stockings and tinseled tree."

Belinda had a sudden resolve. She needed Christmas. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth needed Christmas. She laid aside her needlework and quickly stood to her feet.

225

"Let's!" she said excitedly.

The older woman's head lifted quickly and she stared as though Belinda had lost her senses.

"Let's!" said Belinda again.

"What are you--?" began Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, but Belinda interrupted, her eyes shining and her hands clasped.

"Let's have Christmas again! You and me. Let's have the tree and the tinsel and the stockings."

"But--but--"

"No 'buts. We need Christmas. I've never
not
had Christmas. Why, I would mope and cry all day without it. I just know I would. We can have Windsor get us a tree, and I'll decorate, and Cook can make plum pudding or butter tarts or whatever you like, and we'll share gifts with the staff and--"

The older woman began to chuckle softly. Belinda's fire seemed to have ignited something in her soul, as well. She gently laid down her silk piece and rubbed her hands together.

"If it means so much to you--"

"Oh, it does. It does!" cried Belinda.

"Then go ahead. Do whatever you like."

"No! No, not me. Us! Us! You need Christmas just as much as I do. We'll plan it together."

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth chuckled again. "My, you do go on, don't you? Well, if it pleases you--then of course we'll have Christmas. Ring for Windsah and Pottah. We'd best tell them of our plans as soon as possible.
Staff
will think I've gone completely mad--but--" She smiled. "Better a little mad than a lot lonely" she finished.

The next few days were spent in frenzied but joyful activity. After a trip out in the country, Windsor produced a magnificent tree. Potter rummaged in the attic and storage rooms until she discovered boxes of old garlands and tinseled decorations. Belinda shook the dust from them and trimmed the tree and hung

226

streamers and garlands. From the kitchen came the scents of spices and baking as Cook prepared festive dishes. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth ordered the carriage and began returning from shopping outings with mysterious parcels and packages. A whole new air of excitement pervaded the house that had for so long been silent and empty. They were going to celebrate Christmas.

"I think we need some guests," said Belinda thoughtfully as their plans moved forward.

"Guests? But all my friends spend Christmas with family--or abroad," responded Mrs. Stafford-Smyth.

"Then we need new friends," said Belinda, biting her lip in concentration.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth just looked at her in bewilderment.

"I know," said Belinda. "I'll stop by the church and see if one of the ministers knows of any new folks in town who are away from their families. How many should we ask for?"

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth began to chuckle. "I don't know. As many as you like, I guess. The formal dining table seats twelve."

"Then we'll need ten more," concluded Belinda matter-of- factly.

When Christmas Day dawned cold and windy, Belinda thought about their plans as she prepared for the morning worship service.
Will there be any guests on such a day?
She had talked with one of the ministers, and he had agreed to seek out guests to fill their table. But with the weather so cold, Belinda began to have doubts. She was also concerned about Mrs. Stafford-Smyth going to the church--should she be chancing an outing this morning? Perhaps she would prefer to stay at home by the fire.

But when Belinda descended the stairs, she found the lady already clothed in her warm woolens and furs and ready for the carriage trip to the large stone church.

227

Belinda thought that the music of Christmas was especially beautiful as the well-trained church choir sang the story of Christmas. The deep recesses of the building seemed to echo back the praises. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of her little church back home and the handful of faithful worshipers who would be gathered there singing Christmas carols and hearing the story of Jesus' birth.

The ride back home was a silent one, with both Mrs. StaffordSmyth and Belinda busy with their own thoughts.

Tea was served in the drawing room and all of the staff was in attendance. The gifts that had been tucked under the festooned tree were distributed amid cries of appreciation and gleeful laughter. It was a good time, and Belinda felt a closeness to the staff she had never sensed before.

As the five-o'clock dinner hour approached, Belinda paced the room, looking first at the clock and then at the frosted windows beyond which the snow still blew in fitful gusts.
We'll be all alone unless the weather improves,
she warned herself But at ten of five the knocker sounded, and Windsor admitted a young couple who had been married only a few months. New to Boston, this was their first Christmas away from their families. Shortly after, a family of three arrived. The little boy, Robert, stared in wide- eyed fascination at the decorated tree. His parents had not yet been able to afford such "luxuries." Then a young teacher with her father, and another woman, newly widowed, brought the guest list to ten, just as Belinda had required. None of them were previously known to the household or to one another. Coming from various stations in life by manner and clothing, they very quickly sensed their common bond. It was Christmas and they were lonely. They needed one another.

After the meal and an evening of fellowship with a small gift distributed to each one, farewells were said, and Belinda looked out on the wintry evening with deep satisfaction.
It was a great

228

success!
she exulted inwardly.
And the wind has died down.
It would not be as bone chilling for those who drove or trudged home through the snow

After Windsor had seen the last guest to the door, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth and Belinda settled before the crackling fire in the marble fireplace for a last cup of hot cider and a few more minutes together to review the day.

"Thank you," said Mrs. Stafford-Smyth softly, and Belinda turned to look at her.

"Thank you for giving me anothah Christmas," the older woman said, and Belinda saw the glitter of tears in her eyes.

"Oh, but I didn't give Christmas," Belinda corrected gently. "He did. We just accepted His gift."

Belinda felt a bit let down after Christmas was "packed away" in the storage boxes and put back in the attic. The old house seemed to settle back into its normal quiet with only the sighing wind or the rustling fir trees to stir one's thoughts. Belinda was tired of reading--tired of needlework and more than tired of winter. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth must have felt the same way.

"I've been thinking," she mused one day as they sat by the fire, "I think that it's time to take a trip again."

Belinda's eyes lifted quickly from her knitting.

"I'm feeling perfectly well enough to travel now," the woman continued. "There's no need for us to sit heah listening to the wind day after day. We could be out seeing new things and meeting new people."

Belinda's heart quickened in her chest. Oh
yes!
she wanted to cry.
Let's. Let's!

Instead, she held her peace--and her breath--and let the woman go on. "I think the south . . . maybe Italy or Spain. It's always nice there this time of year."

229

Italy
or Spain? Belinda could not believe she was hearing correctly. She had only dreamed of such places.

"Then we will swing up into France. Visit the boys. I wonder if Frank has married that young woman. We could spend spring there--in France. I like France in spring. We might even slip over to Germany or Austria for a few days. You've never seen Austria, have you? No, I thought not. You'd like it there, I think. The mountains are quite magnificent."

Belinda wanted to jump to her feet and cry,
When? When?
but she sat silently, stilling her wildly thumping heart and listening to Mrs. Stafford-Smyth muse on with her travel plans.

"Yes," she finally said, turning to Belinda. "Let's do that. Ring for Windsah, deah."

Never had Belinda seen Mrs. Stafford-Smyth more eager-- more alive. The very thought of going abroad and seeing her grandsons had put color in her cheeks and a new spring to her step. Windsor, with years of experience in such matters, took care of every detail in booking passage and reserving hotel rooms.

LeSoud's provided numerous new items for both travelers, and this time Belinda did not even attempt a protest. She knew so little about travel. How would she know what a young lady needed to be properly outfitted when going abroad? Having no desire to embarrass her employer, she decided to allow herself to be clothed according to Madam's wishes.

The day of sailing finally arrived, and amid steamer trunks and hatboxes and carry-ons, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth and Belinda were transported to the dock where the SS
Victor
lay in the harbor. Belinda, excitement coursing through her veins, kept telling herself,
I'm going abroad!
She was actually going to see some of the

230

places she had only read of, dreamed of.
Imagine!
She, Belinda Davis, small-town girl from the prairie, was going abroad! Why, maybe . . . maybe she'd even be like Pierre and Franz and never want to come back.

231

TWENTY-SIX

A Discovery

Belinda and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth shared a stateroom, but Belinda could hardly bear to spend any time in it when it was so much more entertaining to be on deck, walking about the ship or enjoying the fine meals in the dining room.

Belinda did not push herself into making new acquaintances. She realized she was considered "staff" and held herself in check, lest others should think she was being forward and presumptuous. But she did enjoy watching and listening to the varied and distinguished company among the passengers.

They had been at sea four days when a strong wind came up, driving many of the travelers to their cabins. Belinda clung to the railings, fascinated by her first storm at sea. She worried that the storm might make Mrs. Stafford-Smyth seasick, then reminded herself that she had come as a nurse and might be able to "earn her keep," after all. But it was Belinda who eventually came reeling into their stateroom needing nursing, and Mrs. StaffordSmyth who provided the care.

"Some people have a difficult time with the rolling and pitching," the kind woman said in good humor. "It has nevah bothered me," and so saying, she tucked Belinda into her bed and arranged for medication from the ship's physician.

Belinda was awfully glad when the rolling finally subsided and she was able to eat again. Soon she was back on deck, enjoying