Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (15 page)

BOOK: Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]
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“All right.”

“I would like to know more about the detailed plans, but I need to get back home now.” She headed for the pasture. “Aunt Lydia has a meeting with a couple of friends about the bazaar in June, and I want to make certain they know I’m glad to have them. It’s more than a little unusual for a house in mourning to invite people to call.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Yes. It is. We’re hoping to fund a couple of new residences so that ‘camping in the parlor’ like Mr. Klein and his family experienced is never necessary.” She paused. “Sometimes I think I should just buy the properties and save everyone all the hours of baking and stitching.”

“Pastor Taylor is big on people working together, each one contributing their ‘widow’s mite.’ It’s a nice feeling, working together with like-minded people toward something everyone cares about.” He unlatched the pasture gate. “And now I’m joining the ranks of people telling you what to do.” He smiled down at her. “Trust yourself. You’ll find your way.” He reached for the bridle draped on the fence post by the gate. “And now to catch your horse.”

Juliana chuckled. “Tecumseh and I have an understanding. And I see that look. Watch and learn, Mr. Gregory.” She took the bridle from him and whistled. Tecumseh lifted his head. She whistled again, and he came trotting to her.

Mr. Gregory’s jaw dropped. “Is that a horse or a dog?”

“More like a spoiled child.” Tecumseh lowered his head. She tugged on his forelock and offered the bit. He tossed his head and stomped. “I know. I’m a wretched human being. But I’ll get your carrot as soon as we get home. I promise. So please, take the bit and don’t be a brat.” Tecumseh took the bit. She slipped the bridle over his ears, buckled the throatlatch, and led him back out of the pasture to be saddled.

When she was ready to mount up, she asked for a hand up. Gregory laced his fingers together and bent down. She put her foot into the makeshift step and he boosted her into the saddle. She smiled down at him. “Perhaps a mounting block would be in order.”

“There’ll be one by the end of the day.”

She touched the brim of her hat with her riding crop. “We may just get along, Mr. Gregory.”

Juliana was nearing the edge of Lincoln when she caught sight of a buggy headed across the prairie. As it came closer and she caught sight of the occupants, she frowned. The driver raised a hand in greeting. Juliana pretended not to see and kicked Tecumseh into a canter. In a moment, though, she reined about to look after the buggy. It was definitely headed for the building site.

Mr. Gregory had said someone was coming out today to speak with the stonemason about a side job. A new business, he’d said. And here they were. No wonder he hadn’t said much about it. She’d recognize that red hair anywhere. The older woman had to be Goldie. And Juliana knew just what kind of “business” they wanted built.

Just when she’d decided to give Mr. Gregory the benefit of the doubt about the night of the fire and that day at Wyuka. Just when she’d decided Aunt Lydia was right about him.

He was a “good man,” all right. Good at playacting. Good at fooling naive pastors and old ladies.

Good for nothing.

CHAPTER 11

Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.
J
AMES
1:19

C
ass introduced Ludwig Meyer to Jessup, and while the two men talked about Meyer’s proposed building, Cass gave Ma and Sadie a tour of both the houses. They were standing in the kitchen at the stone cottage when Sadie pointed out the window and said, “I’d put a flower bed right out there. It’d be so nice to look out and see blossoms when you were cooking or washing dishes.” She glanced at Cass. “What? I like flowers. And I can grow ’em, too, if you will recall.”

“Of course I recall,” Cass said. “You resurrected half-dead things I thought didn’t have a chance. And you begged seeds off half the county.”

“And it turned out real nice, didn’t it.”

“It did.”

“Until—” She glanced Ma’s way and shook her head.

“You don’t have to protect me,” Ma said. She gazed out the window and sighed. “I am so sorry for everything that man did. For him smashing flowers because he said we needed that strip for more vegetables.” She looked at Cass. “And for the way he treated you.” Her voice wavered. “I didn’t know it was that bad. I didn’t know.”

Cass hugged her. “We’ve got to put that all behind us now. God’s given us a chance at a fresh start. A new life.”

Sadie spoke up. “And I’m going to plant flowers again. Lots of them.”

As Cass showed Ma and Sadie through the mansion, Sadie grew increasingly quiet. He told them about the massive dining room table waiting beneath a tarpaulin in town and the plans for bringing in enough wood to fuel the ten fireplaces—not a small feat in a county where surveyors actually noted mature trees on their surveys because they were so rare. He described the stairway and the design that would be inlaid to create the library floor. Finally, they stood at the front of the house while Cass described the porches that would extend out from this doorway or that. Sadie stepped back and looked the place over. She sighed audibly. “What’s she like?”

“Mrs. Sutton?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t spent much time with her.”

“But she was here earlier. That was her we saw riding away when we drove in?”

Ma spoke up. “A tall red horse.”

“That was her. The horse is Tecumseh.” Cass smiled. “He comes when called. Like a dog. And she talks to him like he’s human.”

Sadie frowned. “She’s touched in the head?”

Cass laughed. “No. She’s …” He tried to remember what he’d learned about her over the years. “Educated. Her father was a professor at the university. The boss met her at a literary meeting. She was giving a speech.”

“So she talks fancy.”

“Not the way you mean. Not like she thinks she’s better than everyone else.” He paused. “She does a lot of charity work. And it isn’t just giving money. The boss used to complain about it a little. About her off visiting this homeless family or that, taking the doctor to see this baby or spending time reading to the children.”

Sadie tilted her head as she looked up at him. “You like her. Is she pretty?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Of course she was pretty, and who wouldn’t have noticed that? Flashing dark eyes. A man could get lost in those eyes if he didn’t remember his place in the scheme of things. She sat a horse like royalty. The sweep of her riding habit emphasized a tiny waist.

Sadie shrugged. “Just wondering. I never gave much thought to the wives.” Shading her eyes with a gloved hand, she looked back up at the house. “Never would have thought one of Nell’s customers would be building something like this for his
wife.

Cass thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think he was building it for her. I think this place was all about the boss and where he was headed. He wanted to make a statement.”

“Well this sure would have done that.” Sadie lowered her voice as she rumbled, ‘I’m richer than you, and don’t you forget it. Make me mad, and you’ll get what’s coming to you’.”

Cass shrugged. The boss had never been anything but fair with him, but Cass had worked for him long enough to have heard stories. Sterling Sutton was not a man to cross. Mrs. Sutton, on the other hand, was something of an enigma. “She rarely came out here,” he said. “The boss made excuses for her, but the truth is I don’t think she was all that interested. Just now? She didn’t even go inside. Just walked the perimeter and asked a few questions.”

Sadie frowned. “Now I’m back to thinking she’s touched in the head. A woman’s got to be crazy not to like something this fine.”

“You haven’t seen the house in town. She doesn’t exactly live in a hovel.” He grinned at Sadie. “Now that I think about it, Mrs. Sutton reminds me a little of you.”

Sadie rolled her eyes. “Why? Because we both have heads and hair?”

Cass laughed. “First, because I got the impression today that she’s smarter than she lets on. Mostly, though, because I don’t think Mrs. Sutton appreciates being told what to do.”

“Goodness,” Ma teased, “why on earth would
that
make you think of Sadie? She’s so malleable.”

Sadie glowered at Ma. “A girl’s own mother shouldn’t call names.” She gestured around them. “She’s got all this money. Who’d dare try to push her around?”

Her husband’s banker. In cahoots with the lawyer.
Cass thought it, but he couldn’t say it. Instead, he said, “Money lures varmints as surely as a worm lures a fish to a barbed hook.”

Sadie grimaced. “You taking up philosophy now?”

Cass chuckled. “Some varmints wearing suits and calling themselves friends are trying to arrange things so that Mrs. Sutton sells this place. It seems to me a real friend would give her time to get over the shock before expecting her to make big decisions like that. But these people—I think they’d force the sale if they could. They can’t, and so they’ve taken to some less—forthright ways.”

“Underhanded ways,” Sadie said.

Cass nodded. “She’s standing her ground, though. Which is where I got the idea she doesn’t appreciate being told what to do.”

“Of course you can’t say who the varmints are, you being a gentleman and all that.” Sadie paused. Presently, she smiled up at him. “I hope she knows she’s got herself a good man for a foreman. Someone she can trust.”

“I hope
you
know,” Cass said, “what it means for me to hear you say that.”

Sadie glanced at Ma. “When Ludwig prays, he says that we got to take the new life that’s offered. He keeps telling me I got to forget all the mess.” She looked from Cass to Ma and back again. “Seems like maybe Ludwig is right. Let’s stop rolling around in it. Let’s all just say we’re sorry and I forgive you and you forgive me and Ma forgives us both and we forgive her and everybody ends up all forgiven and that’s that. What d’ya say?”

“If only it were that easy.”

“Well of course it isn’t that easy,” Sadie said. “You’ve got to be stubborn about it.” She tapped her temple with her finger. “When it gets in there”—she swiped her palm across her forehead—”we erase it. And we say a prayer or think about bluebirds or something nice. However many times it takes.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m gonna go find Ludwig.”

Ma spoke up after Sadie was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s truly possible to be finished with the past?”

Cass bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “I certainly hope so.” He offered his arm and nodded to where Sadie stood next to Ludwig, listening in on his conversation with Jessup. “Is she going to marry him?”

“I hope so. I was worried she’d change her mind. But she—we—talked to Goldie.”

“How did that go?”

Ma didn’t answer for a moment. Finally she said, “There were words, but no blows. I suppose it went as well as could be expected.” She paused. “I’m reluctant to look for work until I know what Sadie’s going to do.”

“I thought Mr. Meyer was counting on you living with them.”

“Mr. Meyer is a gracious man, but the last thing they need is Sadie’s mother hovering. There’s no reason I won’t be able to find work, and I mean to do it. I just hope Sadie practices what she just preached about taking the new life that’s being offered. She needs to marry the man.”

Ludwig and Jessup shook hands just as Cass and Ma walked up.

“Everything’s set, then?” Cass said.

Ludwig nodded. “Mr. Jessup and I will take the train down to Roca on Saturday so he can see the building site.”

“And I get a flower garden.” Sadie nudged Meyer’s arm. “Right?”

He beamed at her. “As big as you want, mein Schatz. I forgot to tell you that I spoke with Mrs. Cranford at the store just yesterday. She is one of our regular customers and is always speaking of gardens and flowers. When I told her that my Sadie is a great admirer of flowers, she insisted that we come to her home and see her garden. She wants to give us seeds and cuttings to get us started.”

“You thought of that? To ask about flower seeds for me?”

“Of course. It’s important to you. And I have told Mr. Jessup that we will want flower boxes at the windows of our new store.” He glanced at Ma. “You two ladies will have to get really serious now about planning the upstairs.” He put his hand over Sadie’s. “And we will order stone to border a flower bed. As big as you want.”

Sadie nodded. Swallowed. “Ludwig.”

“Yes, dear Sadie?”

“Will you marry me?”

Meyer stared at her in disbelief. He looked at Ma and Cass, then back at her.

She nudged his arm. “Did you hear me?”

“I … I—of course I did, but … you said you wished to wait.”

Sadie nodded. “I did. I have. You’ve been asking me to marry you for a long time.”

“Yes. Last Christmas Day. And again on New Year’s. And again on my birthday. And—”

“Don’t rub it in,” Sadie muttered.

“What has changed?”

Sadie smiled. “You’re giving me
flowers.
” She kissed his cheek. “And I love you.”

BOOK: Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]
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