Lanterns and Lace (10 page)

“Thank you, Grant. The rose is beautiful,” she said much too softly.

“Am I forgiven?”

“For what?”

“For not stopping by this morning with Rebecca to take you to church.” He found himself increasingly ill at ease.

“My goodness. I believe you’re right. Did you forget, Dr. Andrews?” She inhaled the rose again.

Was that a hint of teasing in her voice?

“No, ma’am. Rebecca and I spent the night at Morgan and Casey’s ranch. We were caught in the thunderstorm this morning and couldn’t make it back. I apologize and hope I didn’t inconvenience you.”

Jenny delivered a smile that could have rivaled a whole field of flowers. He was in a real pickle and too weak to run.

“It stormed horribly here. I dressed for church, but I truly didn’t expect you to come by. Honestly, I used the time to write my parents.”

“Don’t they think you’re visiting in Boston?” He willed his pulse to cease its racing.

“Yes, they do. I decided to tell them about Kahlerville—about visiting the cemetery and about Rebecca. I apologized for deceiving them about my whereabouts, but I needed questions answered about my sister and her child.”

“Good. I’m proud of you.”

“I didn’t write them to obtain your approval.”

A distressing moment of silence followed. He weighed his earlier decision to ask her for a stroll. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

She sighed. “I mean, what upset them the most about Jessica was her dishonesty. And I want to be truthful with them, even if it makes them angry.”

Grant toyed with the felt brim of his hat. “I wondered if you’d enjoy a walk to the parsonage. I’m sure Mama and the reverend would appreciate a visit, especially since both of us missed church.”

“Are you sure the reverend held a service this morning?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He laughed much too loud, and it sounded like a braying mule. “He always preaches on Sunday regardless of the weather or who is or isn’t there.”

Their gazes met briefly, but Jenny quickly averted her attention. “Why do you go out of your way to be nice to me? I know you said before I was family, but I’m not really.”

Any answer he might have formed left him. He scrambled for words with a prayer for guidance. “I’d like for us to be friends. You know I will not give up Rebecca, but I want her Aunt Jenny in her life. I have strongly considered taking a trip to Cleveland so Rebecca could meet her grandparents.”

She paused for a moment, and he knew she pondered his words. “Friendship? I’m not sure how to respond. To me, you have everything—a perfect family, friends, a lovely town. My life is not as content—for reasons I don’t really care to discuss. Rebecca would make my world complete and give me, and my parents, happiness.”

He wanted to tell her only God gave true happiness but refrained. “And what if she ended up just as dissatisfied as you are now?”

Jenny’s face paled. “Surely not. I wouldn’t permit it.”

Viewing her wariness, he chose to abandon the topic. “Let’s not talk of this right now. It wasn’t my purpose to upset you.”

She glanced away, then delivered a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“But Jenny, if we are to resolve this problem, we must be honest with each other.”

“I agree with what you’re saying, and I’ll try.”

“Shall we take a walk?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let’s not quarrel today, Grant.”

“All right.” He started to say more, but words escaped him.

“I need to get my parasol. I’ll only be a minute.”

Before he could answer, she disappeared up the stairs. Grant glanced at Harold behind the registration desk.

“Heh, heh, heh. Doc, that gal’s gotten under your skin, hasn’t she?”

Grant frowned. “I don’t know how you came to that conclusion.”

“By simply watching the two of you.”

Once Grant and Jenny made their way toward the parsonage, he remembered the shooting.

“Jenny, there’s something about Aubrey Turner I need to tell you.”

“If it’s his obnoxious mannerisms, I’m fully aware.”

“This is a more serious matter. He was involved in a shooting Thursday night—a dispute over a card game. A man pulled a gun on him, and Turner shot him.”

“Goodness, will he recover?”

“No, he died.”

She gasped and pulled her reticule closer to her. “Someone should run that man out of town.”

“Rebecca actually drank from the cats’ milk pan?” Jenny laughed and envisioned the little girl in her delightful escapade. “She doesn’t even like milk.” She and Grant’s stroll to the parsonage had taken a delightful turn as he relayed what had gone on at his brother’s ranch.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found her lapping it up,” he said.

“Whatever did you say to her?”

“I considered joining her—”

“Grant, you didn’t?”

His eyes sparkled, and she allowed the moment to relax the uneasiness of hearing about Turner shooting another man.

“No. I don’t like warm milk.”

“I wonder who’s the child at your household.” Jenny wondered if the heat had affected her mind. She had flirted with Grant like a naive schoolgirl and enjoyed it.

She’d been in Kahlerville such a short time, and already many of the values her parents had instilled in her had been questioned.

Grant knocked on the door of the parsonage. She took a deep breath and took in the sweet scent of roses climbing a trellis on the end of the porch.

“Mama and the reverend will be glad to see you,” he said.

Before she could answer, the door opened, and his mother welcomed them inside. “Ellen and Frank are here,” she said.

“Should we come back another time?” Grant said.

“Mercy, no. We’ve finished discussing all we need about the wedding, and we’re just visiting.”

“Good. I wanted Jenny to meet Ellen.”

“I already have,” Jenny said. “And she invited me to her wedding.”

He appeared to be a little taken aback, and Jenny offered her sweetest smile.

“Good,” he said. “I should have handled the introductions before this.”

“Actually it was an accident. I happened to be at the general store, and we started a conversation.”

Grant nodded and turned to his mother. “Do I smell a blackberry crumb pie and coffee?”

“You could smell a pie a mile away. It’s still hot, and there’s plenty for you—with cream.” Jocelyn led them to the dining room, where Ellen and a man twice her size ate pie and drank coffee.

Once the greetings were completed and Jenny had been introduced to the burly Frank Kahler, Jocelyn served up pie and coffee.

“Frank, are you ready to get married?” Grant laughed. “Aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”

“Nope. Wish it was tomorrow.” Frank smiled at Ellen as though they were the only two people in the room.

Jenny envied their obvious love. She and Oscar were to be engaged once she returned, but she didn’t feel anything but friendship for him. Father had arranged it. Said it was good for Oscar’s business.

“Well, in the years to come, I’m looking forward to delivering a dozen babies,” Grant said. “I hear you’re starting up a lumberyard.”

“Sure am. Ellen and I are going to have a good life.” He glanced at Jenny. “Are you two coming to the wedding?”

Jenny felt the color rise from her bodice to her cheeks. She wanted to say something for propriety’s sake, but her rebuttal would be rude. Grant must have sensed her discomfort, for his gaze lingered on her warm face.

“Mimi, Rebecca, and I are going, and we’d like for you to join us,” Grant said.

What else dare he say? He’d been pressed into asking her.

“All the guests will be here at the parsonage for the celebration afterward,” Jocelyn said.

“I plan to help,” Grant said. “Another dishwasher is always welcomed.”

Mother would have flown into a rage if someone had approached her about performing a servant’s duties. But she wasn’t Mother. “I’d be delighted.” She wanted to help, and it surprised her. She turned her attention to Ellen. “Is it appropriate for me to visit you at the store?”

“As long as we aren’t busy, I can chat away.”

Jenny needed to talk to Ellen about more than Jessica. She still needed someone to show her how to use the small revolver. Every time she considered approaching Mr. Snyder, he was busy.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Ellen and Frank bid them good-bye. Frank’s family expected them for supper before church that evening.

Once the couple left, Jenny garnered the courage to ask about Jessica. “Reverend Rainer, do you mind telling me about my sister? I understand you were with her when she died, and I remember Jocelyn saying she’d been here to see you.”

He appeared to think back to those occasions. “Why don’t I tell you about the discussions she and I had when she expressed interest in learning about God? Then if you have more questions, I can answer them for you.”

Jessica asked about God? “That is probably best. I appreciate this.”

“Would you like for Mama and me to leave you two alone?” Grant said.

“Not at all,” Jenny said. “Both of you know more about my sister than I do.” She turned to the reverend, although Grant’s presence and the sound of his voice distracted her. She had to push him away from her mind before he took root in her heart.

“Jessica attended two Sunday morning services and one in the evening,” the reverend said. “After the Sunday evening service, she asked to meet with me. She raised questions about the gospel and what it meant for her. We agreed to talk as soon as I finished dismissing the congregation. Jessica visited with Jocelyn here at the parsonage until I got home. We spent the evening examining the Bible and discussing God’s love and promises. She agreed to come the following Sunday. The next week, I noticed her absence and decided to pay her a call at the brothel.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

“We are all God’s children.” Reverend Rainer spoke softly as though he understood her silent objection. “The moment I saw your sister, I knew something terribly wrong had happened since our last meeting. Jessica reluctantly confirmed she was expecting a child. She expressed her anger and bitterness toward God and her belief that He’d punished her for her wicked ways. In any event, she refused to see me any more after that. She no longer ‘needed a God who issued judgments’ such as the one given out to her.”

Jessica’s response to the reverend sounded like the sister she knew. Jenny could almost hear Jessica’s voice making the declaration about not needing God.

“I didn’t have an opportunity to speak with her again until the night she died. When Grant determined that she wouldn’t survive childbirth, he asked if she’d like to see me. Jessica agreed, and he sent Ellen to fetch me. When I arrived, Jessica lay extremely weak. I feared she’d already passed on, but she rallied when I spoke her name. I shared with her the goodness of God’s love and how He really cared for her. She listened while I urged her to surrender her heart to a living God who wanted her to be with Him. The poor girl struggled with every breath, but she fought the inevitable long enough to ask God for forgiveness and to tell me about Grant’s agreement to raise Rebecca as his own.”

That part was not Jessica—her sister never needed anyone. Jenny took a deep breath and fought for control. Her sister had died alone, without family, because her family had failed her. What a miserable death for one so beautiful.

“Quite often when a soul stands on the brink of eternity, things once deemed unnecessary are seen in a different light,” the reverend said.

Jenny felt as though Jocelyn and Grant had vanished and the reverend had read her mind.

“Jenny, have you made a decision for Jesus?” Long moments followed, and the reverend waited patiently for her reply.

“No.” She toyed with the handle of the china cup.

“Would you like to do so now?”

Her eyes never left her hands. “No, sir. My father would disown me if he knew I even contemplated religious matters. He doesn’t believe in God.”

“Is he a happy man?”

Jenny lifted her gaze to meet the reverend’s. “I never thought of my father as being happy. He’s very intelligent. He believes science contains the answers to our questions about such matters.”

“I see,” the reverend said. “But your Grandmother Martin believed in God.”

Jenny startled. “Jessica told you about Grandma Martin?”

“She did. Your grandmother was the only Christian Jessica ever knew. According to your sister, she was a happy woman.”

Jenny stiffened. “I don’t have any more answers regarding my father’s views about life. Reverend, I really don’t want to discuss my grandmother or my parents. Grandma is gone, and I have to manage with the way life is now.”

He smiled. “My intentions are not to anger you. I merely wanted to point out their differences to make a comparison. One day, and probably soon, you’ll have to select your own values and priorities. My door is always open.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jenny wanted to tell him not to waste his time, but the things he said stirred her heart. She definitely didn’t want to be like her parents, and she desired the peace and contentment so clearly seen in Grandma Martin and the Andrews family. But why did she have to turn her whole life over to God? Couldn’t she believe in God and not relinquish everything? Couldn’t she keep some of herself?

*****

Jenny trembled. Her fingers refused to wrap around the small revolver in her favorite beaded reticule. She’d never brought it out to display to anyone, and now she must learn how to fire it. The sound of birdsongs and insects calling out to each other in the secluded woods outside of Kahlerville should have set her mind at ease. But it didn’t. Her heart thumped against her chest like a drummer boy in a parade. She should have thought this through before joining Ellen on the wagon ride here.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Ellen said. “You’re shaking so that I’m afraid to load it for fear you’ll shoot either me or yourself.”

Jenny pulled the gun from her reticule and handed it to Ellen. “I have to protect myself.” She reached inside and drew out the bullets.

“From what? I don’t mind showing you because I believe every woman needs to know how to use a gun. I’m simply wondering why.”

Jenny swallowed hard. Dare she tell Ellen what she feared?

“From your pale face, I gather a man has frightened you,” Ellen said. “Is it Turner? He’s pompous, but I don’t think he’d harm you. Besides, Ben is a good sheriff. He’ll keep his eyes on Turner.”

“I’m not sure how to reply.”

“Frank told me why you came to Kahlerville.” Ellen gasped. “Please, Jenny, tell me you’re not thinking of taking Rebecca by force.”

“No. Oh, not at all.” Jenny glanced about. In the beginning she’d considered snatching Rebecca away from Grant, but she’d tossed that notion aside some days ago. The thought now repulsed her. “Yes, I did come to Kahlerville to find Rebecca and to take her back with me to Cleveland, but I want to do that with Grant’s permission.” She caught her breath. When had she changed her mind about her quest? “You’re right. It’s Turner. He does frighten me.”

“Has he threatened you?”

Jenny refused to cry. The man didn’t warrant her tears. Instead, she blinked them back. “He followed me from Cleveland. He said it was to find out about Jessica’s disappearance.”

“And you had no knowledge of this?”

“Not until I arrived.”

Ellen looked at the gun in her hand. “Have you spoken to Grant or Ben about your fears?”

“Not that I’m afraid, only my concern.”

Ellen looked beyond Jenny into the trees as though her thoughts had carried her far beyond the beauty of nature. She inhaled deeply. “I promised myself that I’d never be afraid of a man again, and neither will you be.” She grabbed the revolver by the handle. “First you need to get rid of your gloves. You need to feel the gun in the palm of your hand. This is a little bigger than a lady’s derringer, but you can manage it with some practice.”

Ellen pushed a small release lever, and the barrel seemed to break open. She dropped bullets into the chambers.

“It’s that simple to load?” Jenny said.

“Just be careful. To fire, cock the hammer.” She used the thumb of her free hand to demonstrate what she meant. “Aim, pull back the trigger, and fire.” Ellen aimed at a tree, and a boom startled Jenny. Gray-black smoke gathered.

“What is that horrible smell?” Jenny said. “Reminds me of rotten eggs.”

Ellen laughed. “If someone is after you, the smell won’t bother you at all.”

Jenny joined in the laugh, but nervously. “I guess not.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask Casey Andrews to show you how to shoot,” Ellen said.

“Why?”

“Never mind. She’s a good markswoman and a better shot than me. But I’m glad you asked me. Shall we practice some at that tree?”

Jenny nodded. She’d purchased extra bullets earlier. If she planned to stay in the Wild West, then she must learn how to handle herself.

“How often can we do this?” Jenny said. “I want to be accurate and fast.”

Ellen laughed until she held her sides. “What have I done? Turned you into the next Annie Oakley?”

“Sounds like a splendid idea to me. I may need a new source of livelihood by the end of summer.”