Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (19 page)

He wanted to reach over and take her hand. Help her down off that horse. Comfort her. Of course he didn’t dare.

She recovered enough to continue. “I was stupid and naive. But I am no longer either one, and I
will not have any more of it
, do you hear me?” She spoke slowly, her voice clear, her tone cold, now that she’d conquered the tears. “I will not have men working for me who pretend to be gallant and go to church and then laugh behind my back all the way to the brothel.”

His mouth dropped open. “You what?”

She drew herself up. “I am giving you notice, Mr. Gregory. I do, however, expect you to remain on task until I have found a qualified foreman. You’re very good at playing the gentleman. It shouldn’t inconvenience you to continue the charade while I seek your replacement.”

Half of what the woman had just blathered didn’t make a bit of sense. But he’d understood the last part, loud and clear. “You’re firing me?” He looked toward the buggy disappearing into the distance. “Because I let my mother and sister pick gooseberries?”

She gazed after the buggy. Looked back at him. “Please, Mr. Gregory. I know who that was.”

“Who do you think it was?”

“The madam they call Goldie. And one of her … girls.” She swallowed. “As I said earlier, I saw you with them the night of the fire. And again at the cemetery. You were driving a wagon. And those same women were on the seat next to you.”

“You were at the cemetery when we buried Nell Parker?”

“I was. I often ride there. I’d taken Tecumseh down the hill to the creek. But there was no question that it was you.”

She’d seen him. He took a deep breath. “Of course it was me. But that’s not Goldie.” He sighed. There was no way around it. He had to tell her. Firing a prayer to heaven, he explained. “My mother’s name is Margaret. And the redhead is Sadie. She’s my little sister. And yes, they worked for Goldie. Mother was the cook, and Sadie was exactly what you think. But neither of them works for Goldie anymore—and neither of them ever will again. And if you’ll just … calm down, I’ll explain it. All of it. Anything you want to know.”

He didn’t know how to interpret the expression on her face. He glanced off toward the job site. “Are you up to riding all the way out to the place? The men will be wondering where I am. I had Jessup oversee loading things up this morning so that I could help Ma and Sadie.” He looked up at her. “Truly, Mrs. Sutton. Aunt Lydia said it was all right. I wouldn’t have presumed. Ever.”

Her jaw was set. She didn’t answer.

“Please. You can’t fire me. I mean, of course you can—but please don’t. Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”

She looked back from the direction she’d come. “Everyone will worry if I don’t come right back. They didn’t want me riding yet. Alfred had to help me mount up.” She looked down at her gloved hands. Put one palm to her injured arm.

“I’ll send someone to tell them you’re all right. That you came out to the site. And once I get things going, once we’ve talked, I’ll escort you back. If you’re tired, I’ll drive you back. Please, Mrs. Sutton. Just … let’s talk.”

She didn’t look him in the eyes, but she nodded and gave a curt,

“All right.”

Cass mounted Baron, and they headed out.

By the time Cass Gregory and Juliana rode onto the job site, a few men had begun to work, but more were milling about, clearly waiting for Mr. Gregory. Before he went to speak with them, he helped her dismount. “I’ll turn Tecumseh into the pasture. You look a little pale. I hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

“I look pale because I haven’t been allowed out of doors by the aunts,” Juliana snapped. “My arm hurts and I have a bit of a headache, but I’ll be fine. I’ll wait inside.” She took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t refuse a drink of water.” She wouldn’t refuse something a little stronger, either, but a lady didn’t admit to such things.

Mr. Gregory nodded. “Jessup! Get Mrs. Sutton a drink of water while I turn her horse out.” He called for Mr. Klein and handed him Baron’s reins. “You know Mrs. Sutton’s house? Good. Ride in and tell them she decided to come out to the building site. I’ll drive her back in shortly. Just make sure they know she’s all right.”

As Klein urged Baron into a lope and headed off, Mr. Gregory unlocked the door to the caretaker’s house. It was cool and quiet inside. Juliana opened the windows in the main room. Wincing, she pulled her gloves off and flexed her fingers. Her right hand and arm throbbed. The part of her hand that was exposed seemed a little puffy. She shrugged out of her riding jacket. Rolling up the sleeve of her waist, she began to unwrap her arm. The cooling breeze felt good.

Mr. Jessup, tin mug in hand, knocked on the doorframe. “Your water, ma’am?”

Juliana sat down on the stairs and took the water with her left hand. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “Tell me about the building you’re doing—for those other people.”

“You mean the general store in Roca?”

“General store?”

“Yes, ma’am. I told them right up that I can only work on the weekends. I hired a couple of men to keep things going during the week.” He frowned. “Is that a problem? Because if it is, I’ll tell Mr. Meyer he has to find someone else.”

Juliana shook her head. “No. I was just—interested.”

“It’s pretty standard fare. Store on the first floor. Living quarters on the second.” He smiled. “Mr. Meyer has himself a right pert fiancée. Almost as pretty as my Diana.” He tugged on the brim of his hat and excused himself.

Mr. Gregory’s voice sounded just outside, parceling out work, asking questions, answering others. Juliana took a sip of water and then sat, staring down at the floor, trying to remember everything she’d said in the heat of the moment.

Mr. Gregory came in. He removed his hat and set it on the makeshift table, then crossed to the three windows in the south wall and perched on one of the wide ledges. He folded his arms across his chest and met her gaze. “I have
never
lied to you. I have never deliberately misled you.”

She set the mug of water next to her on the stair. “I want to believe that.” She did. She wanted to be able to trust him. Heaven knew she needed someone she could trust in all of this.

He grimaced. Took a deep breath. “I thought you might have seen me that night, but I decided to hope that even if you had, you’d dismiss it as part of the chaos. There were a lot of people milling about, and more than just me trying to help the victims. I didn’t say anything because I was trying to protect Ma and Sadie.” He looked out the window. “And you, if you come right down to it.”

“Me?”

He looked back at her. “Yes, ma’am. I decided that your knowing about my mother and sister would likely just stir up things best laid to rest. And not just for them. I was afraid you’d ask more questions about that night. About Goldie’s and—”

“And my husband,” Juliana murmured.

He nodded. “As I said earlier, both Ma and Sadie are finished with that life. Sadie’s engaged to a good man, and Ma’s going to look for other work. I didn’t think anything but pain could come of your asking questions.” He paused. His tone lost its defensive edge as he said, “And you’ve had enough of that.”

Juliana looked away. How was it that sympathy and understanding made it difficult for her to control her tears? She wanted the anger back. Then again, lately she’d tended to shed tears when she was angry, too. Would there ever be an end to tears? Finally, she spoke up. “I told myself exactly that at first. That you were just in the crowd and what I saw didn’t mean anything. But then I saw you again at the cemetery. And then those same two women came to the job site that day.” She shrugged. “It all started to add up.”

“They carried you to Dr. Gilbert’s after you fell off Tecumseh.”

“I know. I kept the doc from telling me very much about it. To be honest, I was glad they weren’t there when I woke up. I didn’t want to have to thank them.” She paused. “It made me angry to think of owing thanks to the very people I blamed for my husband’s—for our—” She couldn’t say any more. She just shook her head.

Mr. Gregory nodded. “I understand.” He took a deep breath. Raked his hand through his curly hair. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, or we don’t have to talk about it at all. It’s up to you.”

Juliana reached for the cup of water and took a sip. “I’d like to be able to trust you, Mr. Gregory. Lord knows I need people I can trust. Sadly, I know you’re right about George Duncan. And I have my doubts about Mr. Graham, as well.” She forced a little smile. “Aunt Lydia has endorsed you, and that means a great deal. People tend to think she’s gullible, but she isn’t. She’s just gentle hearted. She ‘believes all things’ and ‘hopes all things’ for the people she cares about. And for whatever reason, you are one she cares about.”

“It’s a great honor to hear you say that. Aunt Lydia is a treasure.”

“They both are,” Juliana said. “Aunt Theodora just hides it. I’m not sure why. She always has.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ve never pried into her past, and it occurs to me that it isn’t fair for me to pry into yours. You’ve explained enough. If you don’t want to say any more, I understand.”

“I offered, and now that I know what you’ve been seeing, what you’ve been thinking … I want to set things straight. The boss knew all about me. You might as well, too.” He took a deep breath. “I was nine when my father died. Ma remarried fast. To a man named Ronald Nash. He was delighted when Ma got in the family way shortly after they married, but he didn’t take to me.” He shrugged. “For the most part, Nash did a good job of hiding his aversion. But one night when I was taking too much time mucking out a stall in the barn, he let his temper get the best of him.” He grimaced.

Juliana wondered what he was remembering.

“I ran off that night. A few days later, I enlisted in the Union Army.”

Juliana frowned. “But you would have been far too young.”

He nodded. “I was only fourteen. But I’ve always been big for my age, and they didn’t ask too many questions. I didn’t write home. I was afraid someone would discover the truth and send me back. After the war, I went back to see Ma and my baby sister.” He stopped. Glanced back out the window. “You ever heard about Quantrill’s raid on Lawrence, Kansas?”

Oh, no. Not that.
“Yes.”

“Well, they killed Nash and burned the house and barn. No one knew what had happened to Ma and Sadie.” He shrugged. “So I spent the next few years looking. I went back to Ohio, first. That’s where Ma grew up. But it was like they’d just disappeared. I drifted from job to job until Mr. Sutton visited the site of the bridge construction in Omaha. He kept at me to come to Lincoln. Finally, I did. Then one day I was in a lunchroom down by the warehouse, and three women walked by. It wasn’t any secret what kind of women they were from the way they were dressed. But there was an older woman behind them. Sort of like a mother hen.”

“Your mother.”

He bit his lower lip. Blinked away tears. “Yes, ma’am. Turns out they’d drifted all around, too. Kansas City, first. Then Omaha. Finally, here with Goldie when she started a—” He cleared his throat. “A new business.”

Juliana didn’t know what to think. It was hard to believe a woman couldn’t find honorable work. Couldn’t she have been a seamstress or a nanny? Anything but what she did. When Mr. Gregory continued, it was as if he’d read her mind.

“I know what you’re probably thinking. But Ma didn’t start out in those places. She had a job cooking at a boardinghouse in return for a place for herself and Sadie. Then she got sick. She nearly died. And of course as the weeks went by and Ma wasn’t cooking, they owed more and more money. They were about to get kicked out on the street. Sadie was fifteen. She’d been getting attention at the boardinghouse where they lived. And so—” His voice wavered. “Sadie took it on herself to earn the rent. When Ma got well enough to discover Sadie wasn’t cooking to earn their way, she threw a fit. But Sadie wouldn’t back down. Said she was tired of being poor.” He stood up. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he stared out the window at the horizon. “So that’s my tale of woe. If I hadn’t run off, none of it would have happened.”

“You were only a boy. What could you have done about Quantrill? They might have killed you, too.”

Cass shrugged. “Ma had finally come to terms with my being lost to her. But she refused the idea of losing the only child left to her. So when Sadie took Goldie up on an offer to help open a new place in Lincoln, Ma came along as the cook.”

“How are they faring now? Since the fire? You said your sister’s engaged?”

He smiled. Nodded. “That’s another long story. But he’s a good man, and he’s waited a long while for her. He took Ma and Sadie in the night of the fire. He has a little house in the Russian Bottoms. And he took a room in my rooming house to protect their reputation, if you can believe that.” He started to laugh, but then tears began to spill down his face. He swiped them away, but they kept coming. “I guess that’s a lot more than you needed to know.”

Juliana didn’t know what to say, so she waited.

Finally, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry you’ve had even more trouble because of me.” He turned to look at her. “I knew about him. I made excuses for myself. Told myself I couldn’t risk it. I needed the job. After all, I had to be ready to take care of Ma and Sadie.” He shook his head. “The truth is I was too much of a coward to face him, so I looked the other way.” He glanced down at her. “I should have said something. Maybe he would have listened.”