Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (39 page)

Later in the day, as the train chugged north to Lincoln, Sadie turned to Ludwig and said, “Why do we have to wait until next month? Why can’t we just go ahead and get hitched before we open?”

Margaret smiled as surprise, delight, and then doubt crossed Ludwig’s face. “We just put that sign up. November 19.”

Sadie shrugged. “I know. So we get hitched the Sunday before.”

“And spend the next week setting up a store?” His face turned red, and he leaned close. “What about a honeymoon?”

“I don’t need a fancy honeymoon off somewhere around strangers.” Sadie leaned close. “We can make all kinds of memories while we’re setting up our store.”

Margaret turned her head to look out the window, all the while doing her best to stifle her laughter.

“Now, Ma,” Sadie said. “You don’t have to look all embarrassed.”

Margaret glanced back just in time to see her daughter take Ludwig’s hand.

“We’ll have time to take trips after we’ve been storekeeping for a while,” Sadie said. “If you want a trip. But all I want is to finally be home. With you.”

“If we open the store as promised on Monday the nineteenth,” Ludwig began, “that means we have a wedding—”

“Next Sunday? How about right after morning church? Ma and I can make a lunch for everyone.” She smiled over at Ma and Cass. “You think Pastor Taylor would allow it? We’d have to have the party inside. It’s too cold to do a picnic.”

“I don’t know,” Cass said. “You’ll have to speak to Pastor Taylor.”

“We can do that, can’t we, Ludwig? We could walk right over there from the train.” Sadie glanced at Margaret. “You’d help me with a lunch, wouldn’t you? Bake some of those angel food cakes everybody likes so much?”

“It’s perfect,” Ludwig said. “Angel food cake for my angel.”

Sadie shook her head. “Angel? Now you’re calling me an angel? Don’t you be going crazy on me just yet. I haven’t promised for better or worse yet.” She put her head on his shoulder and snuggled close.

But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.
R
OMANS
8:25

Daily State Journal
Sunday, November 4, 1883

T
he first thing that woke Cass Monday morning was loud purring and a not-so-gentle nudge as Patch burrowed her way beneath Cass’s comforters. The second thing was the sudden realization that apparently fall had given way to winter at some point in the night. He opened his eyes. Yep. He could see his breath. With a shiver, he climbed out of bed and hurried to stoke a fire in the kitchen and get coffee going. Next, he fired up the woodstove at the other end of the small house. He’d just closed the grate when Ma padded into the room and headed for the cookstove, her long russet braid dangling down her back, the collar to her flannel robe turned up.

“Goodness,”—she shivered—”it’s as if winter landed on the roof. Someone needs to tell Jack Frost it’s only the first week in November. His presence is not required yet.”

“You draw a bead on Jack,” Sadie called from beneath her covers, “see to it you don’t miss. He should be shot for sneaking up on us like this.”

Cass chuckled as he rubbed his hands together, then opened the door for Patch. He retreated back to the kitchen, murmuring thanks as Ma poured him a steaming mug of coffee. Sadie stumbled to the table while they were eating. She poured herself coffee, then retrieved a thick comforter from her room and burrowed into it while she ate.

“You’re up early,” Cass said. “And you aren’t grumbling about it.”

“Figured I’d best get in the habit if I’m gonna be a storekeeper’s wife,” Sadie said. “Besides, Ma and I have a lot of baking to do this week. I don’t want us running out of cake and such at the party next Sunday.”

Cass reached over and gave her hug.

“What’s that for?”

“Does there have to be a ‘what for’?”

Sadie shrugged. “Guess not.” She hugged him back.

Cass had barely hung his hat and coat on the hook by the office front door when he caught a glimpse of the Sutton buggy pulling up outside. When he saw Alfred helping a stern-faced Miss Theodora alight from that buggy, he hurried outside to greet her.

“You didn’t need to rush over,” he said. “I meant it when I said there wasn’t any particular hurry about—” But Miss Theodora didn’t even give him time to offer a proper greeting.

“I also wish to speak with you about another matter,” she said and brushed by him. Once inside, she glanced at Christopher Finney, who’d just settled at his desk. “I wish to speak with Mr. Gregory in private.”

Finney rose without hesitation. He looked to Cass. “I’ll mosey over to the telephone exchange and see what kind of progress they’re making on the Friendship Home service.”

Cass nodded.

Miss Theodora stepped back to let Finney pass. Cass invited her to sit down, but Miss Theodora ignored the invitation. “Show me the table you mentioned when we were talking at Friendship Home.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cass led her out back and pulled the cover off the dining room table.

“Heavens,” she said, as she circled it. “My nephew purchased this?”

Cass nodded. “From New York. Said he saw it in a warehouse down by the docks. Imported by a company that brings in pieces from Europe.”

Miss Theodora sighed. “It’s hideous.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that score. The thing is, what to do with it? Should I show it to Mrs. Sutton?” He paused. “It doesn’t seem right to open the wound, but I don’t feel comfortable not saying anything at all. Jessup and four other men on the crew helped haul it here from the station. They haven’t said anything, but I imagine they’re wondering why we didn’t use it at Friendship Home.”

“It would nearly swallow up that dining room,” Miss Theodora said. “We’d never be able to seat all the residents if we used it.”

“My thinking exactly,” Cass said. “I’m glad you agree.”

The woman nodded then gazed back at the table, clucking her tongue and murmuring, “Sterling, Sterling, Sterling.” She leaned down and peered at the carved creatures clinging to the table legs. “Are those gargoyles or griffins?”

“I don’t know the difference,” Cass said. “Whatever they are, they’re fearsome looking.”

“I can’t imagine Sterling thinking Juliana would like this.”

Cass bit his tongue. He didn’t think the boss had really considered whether Juliana would like it or not. He envisioned a savvy dealer stroking Sutton’s ego with a fanciful story about a great find in a ruined castle.

“Do you know how much he paid for it?”

Cass shook his head. “I’ve had Finney look, but I can’t find a receipt. Do you think he could have paid cash?”

Miss Theodora shrugged. “I haven’t any idea.” She shuddered. “Cover it up. I feel like those creatures are about to attack.”

“Should I show it to Mrs. Sutton?” Cass pulled the cover back on.

Miss Theodora sighed. “At some point we’ll have to, but this isn’t the best time.” She sighed. “I suppose you know that Sterling’s monument was set in place last week?”

Cass shook his head. “No, ma’am. I haven’t seen Mrs. Sutton since we all left Friendship Home at the end of the day a week ago last Thursday.”

“Ah, yes. And you missed church yesterday.”

“Mother and I accompanied my sister and her fiancé to Roca on the early train. They invited us to attend church with them.”

“Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound like a Sunday school teacher scolding an absent pupil.” She sighed. “The point is, the monument’s arrival seems to have cast something of a pall over us all.” She nodded at the table. “Is it in the way? Can you just shove it into some back corner and let it be for a while?”

Cass nodded. “Happy to. I just didn’t want to make the decision.”

“Do you have difficulty making decisions, Mr. Gregory?”

Uh-oh.
He met her gaze. “We aren’t talking about the table anymore, are we?”

“We are not.” She shivered and reached up to grasp her collar and pull it closer to her bare neck. “Let us continue this discussion back inside.”

Cass followed Miss Theodora back to the office. He didn’t imagine Finney would show his face until the buggy out front was gone.

Miss Theodora crossed the office to stand near the small stove. She tucked both hands inside her fur muff as she said, “I don’t suppose it’s any secret to you, Mr. Gregory, that I am not known for my tact. When I asked you just now if you have difficulty making decisions, I was referring to a topic that has been weighing on me for quite some time now. I thought perhaps I could avoid addressing it, but in light of events just last week, I have decided to face it straight on. And so I shall get to the point.” She took a deep breath. “Exactly what are your intentions in regards to my niece?”

Stunned by the question, Cass stammered, “M–ma’am?”

“In the weeks during which the two of you worked closely together in regards to the Friendship Home, it seemed to me that you were growing quite fond of Juliana. But then, suddenly, you began declining invitations to dinner and fluttering about Mrs. Harrison.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

She held up her hand. “Now, now. There is no need to protest. Mrs. Harrison is a fine woman. I have no objection to Mrs. Harrison. What I do have objections to, young man, is inconstancy.”

“Inconstancy?”

Her voice dripped sarcasm. “Do tell me you know the meaning of the word.”

This must be what it felt like to be skewered by a displeased parent when asking permission to court a girl. “Of course I know the meaning of the word. But I haven’t been—”

“Really, Mr. Gregory. Do we have to play at this? You’ve played the hero in our little drama very well these past months. We’ve all appreciated your dedication to the project. Your assistance with the bazaar. Your building that stunning model. Your willingness to go ‘above and beyond,’ as they say. We’ve appreciated
you.
But then suddenly”—she backhanded the air—”suddenly you were nowhere to be found. All business. Quite content to sit at the far end of our dining room table and charm Mrs. Harrison. Until two weeks ago, when there you were again, flitting about my niece.”

“I don’t recall flitting about Mrs. Sutton that Monday.”

“I will grant you that my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. I admit that I was quite taken with little Johnny that day. But it didn’t take keen eyesight to see you drawing Juliana aside and practically feeding her bits of pie off your plate.” Miss Theodora drew herself up. “Juliana is very fragile right now, Mr. Gregory.”

“Yes, ma’am. I realize that. And I’ve tried to respect it.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t deny that I’ve entertained … thoughts. She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out. We share many of the same interests. I respect and admire her, and I enjoy spending time with her. But—”

Miss Theodora actually stomped her foot. “I absolutely forbid you to toy with her affections.”

“I’m not!” The protest was more forceful than he intended, but Miss Theodora didn’t seem to notice.

“Not what? Not interested? Not sincere?”

“I’m not toying!” Miss Theodora blinked. Other than that, Cass couldn’t tell how she was reacting to his admission. He took a deep breath and repeated—in a calmer voice, “I’m not toying with Juliana. I respect and admire her. Of course I’m attracted to her. She’s stunning. I love the way her eyes light up when she lets herself laugh. I love her generous spirit and the way she’s taken tragedy and found a way to make good come from it. I love that she isn’t bitter after everything that’s happened to her.” He had to be careful. Miss Theodora likely didn’t know everything. “But somewhere in the middle of that is the fact my mother and sister have brought up: Juliana Sutton and I inhabit very different worlds. I’d be a fool. I have no right.”

“Your own mother called you a fool?”

Cass shook his head. “No, ma’am. She was just warning me.”

Miss Theodora nodded. “Which means that I am not the only mature woman to observe what is happening between the two of you.” She paused. “Yet in spite of your own mother’s warnings, you have persisted.”

“I have persisted,” Cass said, “in doing my best to be a good friend and to give Juliana time. It’s only been seven months.”
And there’s been enough gossip swirling about the Sutton name without my encouraging more by romancing a new widow.
Of course he couldn’t say any of that. He wouldn’t. There was no honor in breaking an old woman’s heart.