Believing the Dream (14 page)

“Dinner is ready.” Her mother stood in the doorway. “Your father is washing up now.”

“All right.” Shutting her papers in her textbook, Elizabeth set them down on the floor by her chair and got to her feet only to thump back into the chair. Her right foot refused to function. The pins and needles of returning circulation stabbed, making her wince.
Stupid, stupid. You
know better than to sit on your foot for so long
. She wiggled her toes and flexed her ankle and foot, wincing all the while. Her mother would say it served her right. A lady should sit straight, both feet together on the floor, not have one tucked under her. When she could finally walk, she limped toward the bathroom to wash her hands.

Cedar garlands decorated each doorway, held in place by red bows and pinecones. The pine tree in the front window of the parlor stood ready to be lit, a white candle in a holder clamped on each bow. Elizabeth eyed the stack of presents as she passed. Only through the sternest of admonitions had she kept herself from shaking those with her name on them. But then, guessing what was inside was half the fun. Perhaps she and her father would indulge themselves in package shaking after dinner, when and if her mother went upstairs for her
lie-down
, as she called it.

“So, my dear, is all ready for this evening?” Phillip flipped open his napkin and laid it across his lap.

“I believe so, that is, if anyone shows up. I do wish this snow would stop.”

“I’m sure you’re not the only one.”

“I know, but this much snow makes me feel utterly . . . claustrophobic.” Annabelle glanced around the table to make sure all was in order. “Elizabeth, is everything all right?”

“Yes, of course.” Elizabeth looked up from resettling her napkin and reminded herself to smile. What had happened? All of a sudden she felt . . . she felt what? Strange, as if something terrible had happened or was about to happen. Sadness washed over her like a heavy rainstorm. She shook her head and sat up straighter.
This is silly,
she admonished herself, all the while smiling again to both of her parents. Anything to banish the worried look they both sent her way.

“You know Cook’s funny saying, ‘A goose walked over my grave’? Surely that was what it was. Please pass the butter.” She snatched a roll out of the basket and broke it open to let loose the fragrance of freshly baked bread. “My, doesn’t that smell wonderful?”

Conversation continued in fits and starts, nothing like their usual ease. When the meal was finished, Elizabeth couldn’t leave the table fast enough. She paused in the act of pushing her chair in.

“Is there anything you need me to do, Mother?”
Please, don’t say
yes
.

Annabelle refolded her napkin and inserted it back in the silver napkin ring, obviously thinking hard. “No, I believe all is well. Your father has shoveled the front walk, and—”

“Looks to be done snowing,” Cook announced as she pushed open the door from the kitchen.

“Ah, good.” Annabelle brightened considerably. “You go back to your studying, and Phillip, you to your editorial. I shall go have my liedown after all.” She came around the table and linked her arm through her daughter’s. “Even if there are fewer here than sent their RSVPs, we shall have a marvelous time. Have you any idea what you will be playing, besides Christmas carols, of course.”

“I’ve adapted the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus from Handel’s
Messiah
, and a couple other numbers as well. I do so love Handel’s music.”

“Wonderful.” Annabelle stopped on the bottom step and glanced around the decorated rooms. “I do love Christmas. I wish we had these decorations up all year.”

“The tree would drop all its needles, and then you would fuss.” Phillip winked at his daughter as he passed the two of them on his way to his study.

“Oh, listen.” Elizabeth darted to the front door and peered out the long narrow window flanking the oak door. “Sleigh bells.”

Phillip joined her with a sigh. “Now I suppose you want me to hitch up the sleigh for a ride?”

“Oh, would you, Father? Mother, you want to come along?”

“No, thank you. I need to be fresh for this evening. You two go on and freeze your noses if you want.” Annabelle continued on up the stairs while Phillip and Elizabeth donned their heavy coats, swapping chuckles like two children just let loose from school.

“Bundle up warm, now.” Annabelle’s admonition floated back down the stairs, making Elizabeth giggle into her fur hat before pulling it over her ears. “I’ll get Cook to heat us a couple of bricks.”

Within minutes Elizabeth and Phillip were snuggled beneath the bearskin robe, hot bricks at their feet, and joining the parade of sleighs that jingled their way down Main Street, flying hooves and shushing runners billowing loose snow and packing the rest.

“Let’s drive past Doctor’s house.” Elizabeth waved at some friends turning into the convoy.

“On our way back.” Phillip waved at someone and shouted “Merry Christmas” in return. He eased back on the reins as his horse sought to outpace the horse and sled in front of them. “Easy, boy.”

Snow glittered, as if rejoicing at the return of the sun. Blue sky, so welcome after the days of gray, pine trees, bows weighted by snow, and icicles daggered from the eaves all caught Elizabeth’s gaze as they jingled their way along.

Northfield shook itself and displayed its festive garments just in time for Christmas.

“Dr. Gaskin, are you coming tonight?” Phillip slowed the horse as the doctor waited in his sleigh to join the throng.

“Planning on it. Got to go check on that young’un Elizabeth took such good care of. He had the croup again before the snow hit.”

Elizabeth gnawed her lip.
Should she offer to go along?
If she was late for the party, her mother would never forgive her. “Tell them Merry Christmas for me.”

“I will. See you later then.”

Phillip gave his daughter a slight shake of his head.

“You knew what I was thinking?”

“Your mother would have my hide tacked to the stable wall if I came back without you.”

“Really?” Elizabeth couldn’t resist teasing him. But obviously, neither of them wanted to be on the bad side of Annabelle and spoil her party.

As they left the sleigh riders behind and headed home some time later, Elizabeth pulled the bear robe up over her nose. With the sun already angling toward the horizon, she could feel the temperature dropping just as fast. Knowing that Cook would have hot chocolate ready for them made her shiver in anticipation.

Pine and cedar, vanilla and cinnamon, the potpourri of fragrances met them at the door. Elizabeth inhaled the aromas of Christmas clear to her toes, even before the warmth began to melt the snow on her boots. She shed her outer garments, hanging them on the coatrack in case there was any lingering snow.

“There you are. I was beginning to worry. You know our guests will be here before long.”

Elizabeth glanced at the clock. Two hours yet. They were not late.

“You are planning on wearing that lovely red Christmas frock, are you not?” Annabelle paused in the doorway for an answer.

“Yes, Mother.” A quickly caught sigh made her aware that she’d planned on the dark blue silk just because she’d known her mother would request the red.
Why am I so contrary?
A glance at her father caught the wink he sent her.

“ ‘A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.’ ”

She nodded and smiled back. Since her father so seldom quoted Scripture, she appreciated it even more.

And a merry heart she had indeed as she sat at the piano several hours later, welcoming their guests with the gift she enjoyed giving most, her music.

“Well, hello.” Thornton’s deep voice brought her out of her musicinduced reverie.

“Thornton, I thought you were going home for the holidays.” Thornton had left his family home in Pine City to attend Carleton College.

“The snow changed my mind, or rather the railroad’s mind. I should have gone the day before like I’d planned.” He leaned against the ebony concert grand, surveying the crowded rooms. With all the doors opened, the guests could visit in the parlor, the music room, the dining room, and the study. Her mother and father were still welcoming late arrivals, and Cook, in a brand-new ankle-length white apron, circulated among the guests with a tray of hot spiced cider and eggnog.

“Would you like some?” Thornton nodded toward the refreshments.

“Cider, please.” Elizabeth segued into a Christmas medley.

He set the china cup in its saucer on the piano. “You know, if you ever used sheet music, I could turn the pages for you.”

“Thank you, kind sir, but not these. Perhaps later.”
Go make yourself
useful, Thorny. Let me be
. The thought reminded her that she must never slip and call him that to his face. He could be Thorny only to her.

As if reading her mind, Thornton answered a beckon from his aunt, who had taken a chair close to the fireplace. Her pale face and rotund belly could no longer be hidden by a cloak or full dress. In spite of the social strictures, Annabelle had insisted she come, knowing how much Mrs. Mueller needed a respite from her brood of rambunctious boys.

Through half-shut eyes she watched Thornton bend down to hear her request and then nod and pat her shoulder. He did have nice manners and seemed to care deeply for his aunt and uncle.
So where are you
going with this?
The thought intruded only slightly as the music flowed from her fingers stroking the keys.
If I were ever to think about marrying,
perhaps Thornton would not be a bad candidate. It would certainly make
my mother happy, ecstatic in fact, not that she wasn’t already pleased with
the friendship, always hoping for something more
. But men took a great deal of time. She’d seen that in every relationship she knew.
How could
I possibly have both a busy practice and a marriage?
She wrinkled her nose and picked up the beat with “Joy to the World.” Better to leave off even thinking along those lines.

“If you would like to mingle for a while . . .” Annabelle stopped by the piano. “Such a lovely gathering, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Mother, everyone seems to be having a very nice time. Have you seen Dr. Gaskin? He said he’d be by after a couple of calls.”

“No, he hasn’t arrived.”

“Hmm. I hope everything is all right.” Her thoughts traveled out to the farm and the young couple with the croupy baby.

“Could you please play ‘O Tannenbaum’?” Cook whispered on her way past, her cheeks as bright red as the holly berries in the arrangement on the table.

Elizabeth did as asked, at the same time keeping one ear tuned to the doorbell. She’d just finished Cook’s request and was about to stand up when she saw her father head for the front door.

“So you decided to take a break.” Thornton appeared at her side with a glass of eggnog in hand. “Thought this might taste good about now.”

“Thank you.” She took the glass and raised it to her mouth but set it on a nearby table when she heard Dr. Gaskin’s voice. “Excuse me,” she said, getting up from the piano.

She arrived in time to see her father taking the physician’s coat and Dr. Gaskin helping a woman off with hers.
Who is with him?
The thought flashed by to be answered when the woman turned around. Dr. Gaskin’s nurse. “Why, Miss Browne, how nice to see you.” Will mother ever have a fit about this. Elizabeth didn’t dare look at her father for fear he would make some droll face and she would not be able to keep from laughing. He too knew this would cause a ruckus with Annabelle—and most likely every other woman in the place. Not even seven months had passed since Dr. Gaskin’s wife died. And here he was escorting another woman.

“Nurse Browne had nothing else to do tonight, and I thought this might give her a chance to meet more of the Northfield residents, other than patients, that is.” Dr. Gaskin smiled down at the woman beside him.

Elizabeth stepped forward. “What a nice idea. Miss Browne, why don’t you come with me and I’ll introduce you around.” She sent a look to her father that said keep him busy out here or something.

“I would like that. Indeed, I would.” Matilda looked around at all the decorations. “My land, but this is lovely. Such a lot of work you and your mother have put into this.”

“Oh, Father helped some, and Old Tom. Mother loves Christmas more than any other holiday. Have you met my mother?”

Miss Browne shook her head. “Other than folks at the Methodist church and sick people, I’ve been too busy to get around much.”

Thornton joined them as soon as they entered the music room. Ah, now you must introduce me.”

Elizabeth did the honors, and with Thornton on the other side of Miss Browne, they took her around the gathering, making sure she was always on the opposite side of the room from the doctor.

“Can I get you either hot cider or eggnog?” Thornton asked.

“Eggnog, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Miss Browne, this is Mrs. Mueller. You met her husband in the study.”

“Oh, we’re old friends by now.” Matilda leaned closer. “How are you feeling, deary? You look a mite peaked.”

Mrs. Mueller nodded. “My back, it’s been aching some off and on all day, but I so wanted to come to the party. I thought if I just sat back out of the way, no one would mind.”

“No, they most surely wouldn’t.” Miss Browne sat down on the hassock in front of the chair.

Little does she know, Elizabeth thought. There will be buzzing over a woman in her condition coming out to a gathering. Sometimes I wonder where these folks think babies come from anyway. Like they suddenly appear after a woman has been in hiding for two months?

She watched as Nurse Browne, in the guise of holding Mrs. Mueller’s hand, took her pulse, then looked around the room until she saw the doctor. Glancing back at Mrs. Mueller, Elizabeth saw her face go white as she laid a hand on her side.
Oh dear, trouble ahead
. Elizabeth crossed the room and knelt by the steel-jawed woman.

“Can I get you anything?” She kept her voice low.

“No, I want to hear you play the Christmas hymns, dear. I’ll be fine.” Mabel Mueller’s smile gained strength, and she nodded, now that the spasm had passed. “Please,” her eyes pleaded more strongly than her words. “Please don’t tell anyone. I trust Miss Browne here will keep me company.”