Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (27 page)

A good man … hath given to the poor; his righteousness endureth for ever; his horn shall be exalted with honour.
P
SALM
112:5, 9

G
ray light was spilling through the bedroom window when Margaret woke Sadie. “I’m sorry to wake you, but this little business of mine was your idea, and I need your help. If you can get the lunches packed up, I’ll get the kuchen in the oven.”

Sadie groaned a protest. “This seemed like a much better idea when the sun was shining.”

The women dressed quickly, but the minute they’d pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the main room, they stopped and looked at Cass, sound asleep at the table in the parlor, the completed model of Friendship Home before him.

Patch’s head appeared from beneath one of Cass’s flannel-clad arms. Apparently she’d been curled up on Cass’s lap. At sight of the two women, she plopped to the floor and padded to the back door. Sadie let her out while Margaret roused Cass with a gentle scolding.

“You didn’t even go to bed?”

He started awake and sat up, bleary eyed. “I wanted to—finish a few things.”

Margaret inspected the model. It looked the same to her, but she probably shouldn’t say that to the man who had been up half the night working on it.

He pointed at the model library. “Books,” he said. “I painted books on the shelves. And the entryway floor. I didn’t think it looked quite right. Just small things. But I want it to be … I want her to like it.”

Margaret put one hand on his shoulder and leaned close. “It’s stunning, but it was fine before, and you shouldn’t have stayed up half the night. No one is expecting an exact replica. The measurements are what matters, so that when the committee goes to arrange the furniture—”

“Furniture!” Cass jumped to his feet. “Finney said he’d have a few model pieces ready. I have to get going. The board’s driving out today. I want to set this up for them in the real dining room.”

“You didn’t say anything about needing to have it finished today.”

“I thought of it at the last minute. As a nice surprise for Ju—for everyone.” He glanced out the window. “And I’ve got to get over to the office and get a team hitched up so I can load this into a wagon and head out.”

“Cass Gregory.” Margaret pushed him back down. “You aren’t going anywhere until you have a decent breakfast. And then you’ll need to get cleaned up. You look a sight.”

His hand went to his face. He scrubbed his whiskered cheek with the flat of his hand. “That bad, eh?”

“The last thing you want is for the women on that board to see you like this. The Suttons already know the man behind those whiskers, but I doubt you can expect the wife of a bank president to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re right.” Bleary eyed, Cass stumbled into his room.

Sadie finished slicing a loaf of bread and retrieved the sliced ham from the icebox by the back door. She began to butter the bread and assemble sandwiches, wrapping each one in paper and tying them with string. “Did you know he was taking that thing out to the job site? I thought he was going to keep it here until the bazaar.”

“He’ll be careful with it,” Margaret said.

Sadie shrugged. “Bet
you
won’t miss walking around it every day.”

“I’ve enjoyed helping him,” Margaret said. “But the way this business you dreamed up has grown, it will be nice to have more time to cook.”

Cass ducked out of his room and headed for the front door.

“You need to eat,” Margaret protested.

“I will. Pack me up something. I’ll eat on my way out to the job site.” He didn’t wait for a reply before leaving.

Sadie let Patch back in and poured herself a cup of coffee. “What next?”

“Let’s try some biscuits today. I don’t know if the men will want such plain fare after the way we’ve been spoiling them, but my biscuits are good.”

Sadie began to mix the biscuits. She was rolling the dough out when she said, “You think he even knows that he’s falling for a rich lady?”

Margaret frowned. “He’s just—he’s sympathetic. And who could blame him for admiring her? She’s been through a lot. It’s admirable the way she’s rising above it.”

“Sure it is,” Sadie agreed. “But what Cass feels isn’t sympathy.” She dipped the biscuit cutter in flour and began to press it into the dough. “He’s wearing his good shirt, Ma.”

“Miss Juliana.”

Martha knocked on the bedroom door, then opened it.

Juliana had already gotten out of bed and put on her wrapper. “I heard the phone. What is it?”

“Mrs. Duncan,” Martha said. “And she wouldn’t let me take a message.”

What now?
At least it wasn’t Cass saying there was a problem with her bringing the board out to see Friendship Home today. She hurried downstairs. “Yes, Helen.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it today. It’s really little more than a sightseeing excursion, and I’m sure you know that I’m already quite familiar with the site.”

“But unless you’ve been out there recently, you should see it. The windows are in, and the roof is on. The rooms are framed.”

It was as if Juliana hadn’t said a word. “You will have someone take good notes, won’t you? It should be treated as a meeting, with a record created for posterity.”

“I really wish you’d come.” Juliana forced herself to sound truly disappointed. “We need our president.”

“That’s very kind of you, but George needs me today, as well. It’s a private matter. You understand, don’t you, dear?”

You could at least be more creative with your lies.
Everyone knew that the Duncans barely spoke. It had been that way for years. Which, Juliana thought, with a sudden streak of unexpected compassion, was likely at the root of Helen’s difficult personality.

“We’ll miss you,” Juliana said. She almost meant it.

Jenny
Tuesday, June 5

Jenny sat on the front porch, waiting. She’d worn herself out helping Susannah clean the place, ever since Dr. Gilbert had brought the news that Mr. Duncan had “made arrangements.” Even if Mr. Duncan had been the kind of man who might let her stay, “the matter was out of his hands.” Sterling’s affairs were being handled by someone else now, and the farm was being sold.

No one had come to see it. For all Jenny knew, the new owners would let the house fall in. Still, it housed most of her life with Sterling. She would not have anyone saying the former tenant had been “that kind” of person. The kind that didn’t take care of things.

Of course it wouldn’t be long before the wind blew dust in through the loose windows and around the doors. Thinking of dust collecting on the things she and Sterling had shared made her want to cry. But then it seemed she was increasingly prone to tears.

Susannah and Dr. Gilbert had taken to nagging her about eating. They said she had to stop losing weight, that she had a child and to think of him. She tried. She really did. It was just so hard. It was depressing to think that her entire life fit into that small trunk waiting over there by the stairs.

Johnny would be crawling soon. When they put him on his belly, he flailed with his arms like he was a little turtle. Just yesterday he’d managed to scoot halfway across the floor. He could still make her smile. But he couldn’t make her eat. Why was that?

Decoration Day had come and gone. She wished she could have at least gone and put flowers on Sterling’s grave. They would have had a nice service at the cemetery. Last year she’d gone with her uncle. It was, after all, his business to honor the dead, and no one did that better. He didn’t care for his living niece and great-nephew, though. Jenny was sure of that.

Here Mr. Duncan came to take her to town. Dr. Gilbert said that she might have to share a room with two other mothers with babies. By this fall there would be a grand new Friendship Home and things would be less crowded. Right now, people like her who needed special help stayed in private homes. Jenny was dreading that. She hoped the people would be nice to her and Johnny, but Susannah had told her to “be prepared.” What that might mean made Jenny feel tired. And scared. Then she got tired of being scared and just felt tired again. Why did it have to take so much effort for every little thing?

Mr. Duncan climbed down from the buggy he’d driven out, cursing about the bad road.

He bent down to pick up the trunk. “Is this everything?”

Jenny nodded.

“Wait there,” he said, while he loaded the trunk.

For some reason he seemed to think he should look the house over. He was inside when another buggy came bumping up the lane toward the house. Mr. Duncan’s wife? Jenny remembered her from town. It seemed like half a lifetime ago, but she remembered. She and Susannah—who was holding on to Johnny—both stood up when Mrs. Duncan climbed down from her buggy. Without a word to either of them, she marched inside, the ostrich feather on her hat bobbing with every step.

“Helen!” Mr. Duncan said. “What on earth!”

“I had to see it for myself.”

“You had to see what?” There was a long silence, and then Mr. Duncan swore again and said, “You think I’m that stupid?” Jenny could hear his footsteps as he stomped back out onto the porch with his wife in tow. “Tell her,” he said, pointing at Mrs. Duncan. “Tell her who’s child that is.”

He called Johnny a name, of course. He didn’t say
child.
It made Jenny angry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She was trembling, but she did her best to glare at the formidable woman as she said, “I’m Jenny.”

“I know who you are,” Mrs. Duncan said. “And your name isn’t Jenny.”

Jenny nodded. “It is. It’s Jenna Pamelia Lindermann.” She nodded at Johnny. “And this is John Sutton Lindermann.” She wanted to tell Mrs. Duncan about Sterling’s promises and how it wasn’t like that, but there didn’t seem to be much point.

Mr. Duncan looked at his wife. “Yes. I’m cleaning up Sterling’s mess, although why I bother, only God knows. At least it’s the last one I’ll ever have to deal with.” He told Jenny and Susannah to get in the buggy.

Jenny ducked her head and followed Susannah. She held Johnny and then passed him up once Susannah was seated. Somehow, she managed to pull herself up without help. Mrs. Duncan stared after them. Then she turned away and spoke to her husband.

“Where are you taking them?”

“Dr. Gilbert made arrangements.”

“But George … you can’t …”

She lowered her voice, and Jenny couldn’t hear the rest.

Mr. Duncan looked dumbfounded. “Why do you care? There is no love lost between the two of you.”

“That may be true,” Mrs. Duncan said. “But I wouldn’t wish this—” She shook her head. “She’s already survived the unspeakable. She doesn’t deserve—you can’t risk it.”

More murmuring. Jenny stopped caring. It was true that she’d survived the unspeakable, but she didn’t think Mrs. Duncan was talking about her. She concentrated on making Johnny smile, chucking him under the chin and playing patty-cake while the Duncans fought.

Finally, she spoke to Susannah. “You’ve been good to me. Thank you. You can come visit Johnny anytime. If you miss him.”

“I already got another nursing job,” Susannah said. “I’ll be busy.”

Jenny nodded. She blinked tears away and reached for Johnny. “All right, little man,” she said in his ear. “It’s just you and me now. We’ll figure it out. We will.”