Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (45 page)

When Friendship Home came into view, Juliana whispered another prayer.

Caroline looked weary but, Juliana thought, not surprised to see her. She offered to make tea for them both, and Juliana followed her into the kitchen. “How is everyone up at the house taking the news?”

Caroline put the kettle on to boil. “Supper last evening was very subdued. Mehetabelle sent me home early. She said she’d lock up.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how we’re going to manage a Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. No one feels up to it.”

“Then don’t do it,” Juliana said. “It’s too much to expect, especially with Jenny and the baby’s service looming.”

Caroline nodded. “You’re right. But you didn’t drive out here to excuse Thanksgiving at Friendship Home.”

“No. I need to tell you something. And then beg you to keep the confidence.”

“Of course.” Caroline poured tea and sat down opposite Juliana.

“When you met my aunts this summer, did they tell you how Sterling died?”

Caroline nodded. “And they shared many cherished memories.”

Juliana reached into her reticule for the locket. She opened it. The curl of white-blond hair fell onto the table as she passed it over to Caroline. “I found this in my husband’s things.”

One look at the photographs, and Caroline gasped and put her hand to her mouth. She closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I—I didn’t think you knew.” She shook her head. “What you must think of me.”

“I didn’t come here to accuse you of anything, Caroline. I came here to ask you to keep a confidence.”

“All of our residents’ information is confidential. The board made that very clear when they hired me. I hope you don’t think—”

“Aunt Theodora is going to be helping you with those files,” Juliana said. “Things slip out sometimes.” She nodded at the locket. “And knowing that? That would break her heart.”

“Nothing will slip out,” Caroline said. “You have my word.” She frowned. “Why did you even keep this?”

“At first it was a reminder. I thought if I ever stopped being angry, I would disintegrate—or disappear into a sea of hurt. Once I started to come to terms with it, I thought about packing it away with Sterling’s things. But that didn’t make any sense, either. And still, I couldn’t make myself throw it away.”

She took a deep breath. “Now I think maybe I was supposed to keep it for Johnny. Yesterday Mehetabelle said something about Jenny wanting to pick a strong name for the new baby because of the way our world treats children who don’t have a father.” She paused. “Johnny had a father. He was far from perfect, but he wasn’t evil. And that locket—” She cleared her throat. “That locket says that he cared for Johnny’s mother.” She swiped at a tear. Shrugged. “Maybe someday it will help him. I don’t think it’s right for me to destroy something that might help an innocent child, just because it’s caused me pain. As much as possible, I’ve come to terms with what Sterling did. I’ve had to. But I want to protect his aunts.”

“Of course.” Caroline closed the locket and set it down. “I’ll keep it safe. For someday.”

“Thank you.” Juliana rose to go. “You look exhausted. Be kind to yourself today.”

“I was up half the night thinking about—praying about something.” She looked down at the locket. “If you just can’t bear the idea, I’ll understand. I’ll resign and thank God for the blessing it’s been to be here for these few months.”

“What on earth are you talking about? No one is going to ask for your resignation. You had no idea I knew about Jenny. And what you did for her and Johnny only proves that you are the ideal woman to be the matron of Friendship Home.”

“Thank you. That means more than you know.” She swallowed. “But you didn’t let me finish. I lost a little boy, and Reggie—Reggie was my only one. I’ll never have another chance.”

Juliana sat back down. “You want to adopt Johnny.”

Caroline nodded. “I’ll fight Mr. Lindermann if necessary, but I won’t fight you. If you can’t bear the idea—” Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a thump overhead and a wail.

Caroline excused herself to head upstairs, and Juliana sat, trying to make sense of things.

She could trust Caroline with the locket. She could confide in her and ask her to protect the aunts. She could feel sad for Jenny and wish Johnny well. But Juliana did not think that today she could face meeting Sterling’s son. So she rose from Caroline’s kitchen table and called a good-bye up the stairs and headed outside. But for some reason, when she was about to climb aboard the buggy, she didn’t feel ready to drive back to town, either, to face the aunts or to tell Cass what had happened.

If this isn’t right, show me.

Something drew her up the stairs to the Friendship Home and in the front door. It was early yet, and the house was still. She looked up the sweeping staircase toward the second floor, remembering back to that other day when she’d come in here alone to say good-bye to Sterling’s mansion. The day when she’d stood in the yellow rooms upstairs and realized that she didn’t hate P. L. She didn’t hate Nell Parker, either. In fact, she felt compassion for them. She had come so far.

Please, Lord God. Show me.

She didn’t have to know Aunt Theodora’s secret to understand a little of how she felt. The sense of being lost, of being haunted by a name.

Let the walls come a-tumblin’ down.
Martha had said she was praying that for Juliana. And a lot of walls had come down in recent months. She’d done a lot of forgiving and refused a lot of bitterness. And God had given her such joy. Oh, the anger wasn’t completely gone. She still had her moments.

But she also had joy.

And she wasn’t going to let the shadow of a name destroy it.

Please, Lord God. Show me.

Taking a deep breath, Juliana headed back outside. She intended to head back to town. But something made her stop. Something helped her put one step in front of the other. Someone helped her head for the stone cottage to meet Johnny.

Who, if Juliana Sutton-someday-to-be-Gregory had anything to say about it, would soon be John Harrison.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
S
ONG OF
S
OLOMON
2:10

J
uliana woke to the sound of … hail? Surely not. Hurrying across the bedroom to draw the drapes, she looked out on clear skies. And Cass in the yard below, hat in hand, a smile on his handsome face as he motioned for her to come out onto the balcony. Reaching for her dressing gown, she headed outside and to the edge of the upstairs porch. “Pebbles? You threw pebbles at my window.”

“Actually,” he said in a stage whisper, “they were seedpods of some kind. Hard to find pebbles on the prairie.” He grinned. “Can you sneak out? There’s something I want you to see.”

She leaned down. “Why do I have to sneak?”

“Because it’s more fun this way.” He grinned. “The three of us will wait by the back door.” At Juliana’s questioning look, he tapped his own chest, pointed to Baron, and then nodded toward the barn.

Cass, Baron, Tecumseh.
With a smile, Juliana nodded and headed inside to change.

She hurried through pinning up her hair and donning her riding habit, feeling like a schoolgirl sneaking out to meet a beau her parents didn’t quite approve of. Of course everyone under this roof approved of Cass. Aunt Theodora clearly enjoyed their spirited theological debates. Aunt Lydia loved the quilt stand he’d designed that enabled her to adjust the height of her quilting frame. And Martha loved him for his enthusiasm over anything she cooked.

Cass had already saddled Tecumseh and was waiting as soon as she appeared at the back door, boots in hand. “What’s this all about?” She sat down on the steps and pulled her boots on.

“Spring.” Cass leaned close to kiss her on the cheek.

Wildflowers would soon dance above the greening prairie. Today, though, Juliana gloried in the warm air that would hopefully, once and for all, melt the remaining strips of snow still visible on the north side of clumps of grass and the persistent shelves of ice hovering over running creeks.

They rode south, and for a moment Juliana thought they might end up out at the Friendship Home, where ground had been broken for the construction of a new dormitory and a school. But they weren’t headed to the Friendship Home. Instead, Cass led the way along the banks of Antelope Creek to a spot where Margaret’s lunch wagon waited, the side lowered, a quilt spread in the bed, and a basket waiting to be unpacked.

“You had to have gotten up before dawn to manage this.” Juliana dismounted and hitched Tecumseh to a wagon wheel.

Cass lifted her up to sit beside the basket and leaned in for another kiss. “Best way I know of to start the day.” He took the cover off the basket. “Of course the second-best way is with Ma’s cooking.”

“Don’t let Martha hear you say that,” Juliana teased. She looked around them. “This is a lovely spot.”

“I bought it a few weeks ago. Can you envision tree-lined streets and new homes?”

“Not as well as you can,” Juliana said, “but I believe it’ll happen.”

He pulled a set of drawings from beneath the corner of the quilt behind him and lay them down between them.

“Anyone would love this.” Juliana pointed to the broad front porch. “That’s just begging for rocking chairs and iced tea on summer evenings. And this side entry … protection from the weather? I wish we’d had that this past winter.”

“The architect calls it a ‘country doctor’s residence.’”Cass pointed to the group of rooms along one side of the main floor designated
waiting room, consultation room
, and
office.
“But I’m thinking this could just as easily be a separate apartment. For elderly relatives, for example. Putting it on the main floor this way would solve the problem of stairs—if stairs became too much of a challenge.” He paused. “Of course a person would have to be careful about stating it that way. Some older people might take offense. If they were anything like Miss Theodora, for example.”

Juliana nodded. Although at the moment she was having trouble concentrating on Aunt Theodora’s feelings.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk with you about.” He paused. “I haven’t wanted to complain, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to work for you.”

Juliana frowned. “But why?”

“You come down to the office and distract me. You drive by the job site and the work at hand fades into oblivion. It’s dangerous working for a woman you can’t stop thinking about.”

“Wh–what can’t you stop thinking about?”

“This.” He kissed her cheek. “And this.” He bent down to kiss the spot on her neck just below her left ear. “And this,” he whispered, sliding his hands about her waist and pulling her close. “And a great many other things far too scandalous to mention.”

“I have a solution.” She closed her eyes, and for the first time noticed the sweet aroma of his cologne. “You’re fired. Now propose.”

He smiled down at her. “My new favorite way to start the day.”

May 1908

M
y favorite way to start the day … even after twenty years.”

At the sound of her husband’s voice, Juliana turned onto her side, then reached out to tap him on his chin. “It’s been twenty-four years, Mr. Gregory.”

“Can’t be.” He grinned. “You don’t look a day older.”

“You’d better have your eyes checked on the way to the office this morning. We can’t have the boys reporting for their first day on the job site to a half-blind father. It would be embarrassing for them—not to mention dangerous.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Quilters are coming today. I should get downstairs and help Martha in the kitchen.”

He caught her hand. “Didn’t you tell me Mother was coming early to help Martha—and providing dessert? I distinctly remember something about my sister coming to town for a meeting and then helping Ma raid our gooseberry patch.”

Juliana relented and stayed put. “And you should have heard what Sadie had to say about that meeting. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her organizing a parade down O Street one of these days. She’s that frustrated with the lack of progress.”

“If she raided our gooseberry patch, at least she went home with something to show for the day’s trip.” He kissed Juliana’s forehead and pulled her close.

“She and Lydia had quite the interesting conversation.”

“Our Lydia or Aunt Lydia?”

“Our Lydia.”

“Oh, no. Please tell me our daughter isn’t going to end up parading in the streets, demanding votes for women.”

“And what’s wrong with votes for women?”

“Not a thing,” Cass said quickly. He nuzzled her ear.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Why not? I don’t think our bedroom is the right place for a suffrage discussion.” He kissed her cheek. “At least not this morning.”

She looked up at him … at the familiar glint in those hazel eyes, the certain smile. And then … the knowing touch. She caught her breath. “Agreed.” She leaned in.