The Ways of Heaven

by Lindsey Barlow

  She released his fingers.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he smiled. Though not soon enough. Jonathan turned his attention to Daisy, and for a while the conversation went on with ease. Jonathan was invited to dinner and individual plans for the summer were discussed.

  “Well we better head to the dress shop,” Anna said, finishing the last crumb on her plate. “I like to take my time shopping and will not be rushed.”

  “That is a true statement if I ever heard one,” Rose agreed and placed Daisy on her hip. “Jonathan, we will see you soon.” She reached out her hand to him. Meg just gave a small wave and followed Rose. Jonathan was about to sit down when he saw a mother holding a baby near Daisy’s age walk by Rose. Daisy reached out for the baby, fascinated by another child. Rose began to laugh when the woman swung her baby out of reach.

  “Control that thing of yours,” she hissed. “I don’t want my baby catching anything.”

  The café fell silent and Jonathan could see Rose was in shock, because for once she had nothing to say.

  “Excuse me. Did you say, ‘that thing’?”

  The woman made a mocking sound. “Well, it certainly is not a proper baby.” She jerked her head at Daisy and looked around for support. To Jonathan’s horror, several people nodded in agreement.

  “She is a baby,” Rose fired back. “And I do not believe any baby could be improper.”

  “Well.” The woman smiled tightly. “Of course you wouldn’t believe in proper now would you? I mean she obviously resembles her father and it seems that you are—” She glanced at Rose’s empty ring finger. “Single is it?”

  Rose shrugged off her mother’s urging hand. “I do not need to explain myself to you.”

  The woman began to reply when Christabel appeared, her green eyes pinning the woman with an intensity that would make any person shrink.

  “Can I start an order for you, Mrs. Blake?”

  The woman glanced at Rose and gave a small victorious smile before turning to Christabel. “Yes, and please sit me at a table that is,” she curled her lip at Daisy, “clean.”

  Fourteen

  Rose sat on the porch, bouncing Daisy on her lap. “How are you doing, Rose?” her mother asked.

  “I guess I should not have expected everyone to welcome Daisy with open arms. I am just upset that I couldn’t say something to put that woman in her place.”

  Anna waved a hand. “We can never put people in their place, Rose. People will believe what they believe. Only life changes them, and only when they are ready for change. Arguing with that woman would have caused a scene and as a woman a scene means …? “Her mother looked at her expectantly.

  “Looking reckless and low class.” Rose frowned. “It’s unfair isn’t it? A man can bellow and yell while appearing manly, but a woman does it and she looks silly.”

  “Yes, but times will change. Besides, women are much more influential than men. Not arguing back with that woman will make her look more crass than if you had. Do not underestimate the power and influence of being a lady.”

  “Says the woman who keeps a pistol up her skirts,” Rose smiled.

  “A lady should always carry a pistol.” Anna said primly. “Now, how are you doing without Cade? The divorce should be finalized any day now.”

  Rose shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t really know. I can’t rid him from my mind. I can forgive him, but I’m still angry—and I feel such a fool … a fool for having ever loved him, and even more the fool because a part of me still loves him.”

  “At least you have a child now. I always feel that noticing your blessings helps lessen the pain and disappointments.”

  “Yes, and I am truly grateful.” She gave a wry smile. “Although at times I wish Nell and I couldn’t have passed for twins. Daisy does look like me only she’s—,”

  “Black,” Anna finished. “You are aware of the rumors going around?”

  Rose gave a slow nod. “I saw a newspaper in town, not to mention my little encounter at the bakery. Daisy does look like me, but clearly does not have a white father. It is only natural what people will assume.”

  Anna shrugged. “I am proud of you, Rose; most women would have allowed themselves to break once they were under the protection of their parents. It is hard to keep positive when life disappoints us. And it is even harder when people judge us inaccurately.” She looked around with a smile as she heard Meg yelp when the twins accidentally knocked her over in the field beyond the garden.

  “Meg is trying to teach Bill and Frank a game. She is getting more trampled than the ball,” Rose explained.

  “She is a sweet girl to those two. Did you notice Jonathan and Meg at the bakery?”

  Rose chuckled softly. “I need to ask Meg if she has seen him before. When I introduced them she lied about working at the Red Bear Hotel. I thought she was just being private.”

  “Do you think they met before?”

  Rose bit her cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised. It was Jonathan who recommended the hotel on one of his visits to Denver. But he has not said anything about knowing her either.”

  “I hope she liked the dress I bought her. She turned the color of pomegranates but didn’t say very much.”

  “I saw her stroking the fabric and admiring the sleeves, lost in a world of female delight. I think she liked it, Mother.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll be lucky and she’ll wear it for dinner tonight. That is, if the twins will let her leave them to change. I had to ask them to dinner, too. They refuse to leave Meg’s side. She really has bewitched them. Oh dear,” Anna threw her hands in the air when Frank threw the ball into the garden beds. “That is enough games for now. Frank! Bill! Why don’t you two help set up the table so Miss Meg can wash up?”

  /

  Rose could not help but be both amused and surprised when she placed the last pin in Meg’s hair. The fragile looking cook was shaking like an autumn leaf in the wind. She had at first refused to wear her new Sunday dress and have her hair fixed.

  “It won’t do any good,” she had told Rose. “I will still look like me.

  Rose had stood patiently by the vanity. “First of all Meg, you should look like yourself because you are a lovely girl. Second, whether you think Jonathan is handsome or not, we are having a guest at dinner, and it is simply good manners to look one’s best.”

  “Oh, it’s not that.” Meg sighed, setting down her cup and covering her face briefly in frustration. “I like him Rose … more than you know.”

  At Rose’s silent nod, Meg continued, “The waitresses at the Red Bear used to talk of a man who was handsome and very kind. He never snapped at them or complained and always sent kind remarks to the cook … who was me.” She smiled softly. “One day I had to see who this man was who was saying such kind things. I snuck out and looked at him. He was so handsome and smiled at everyone. He was so different from what I was experiencing. I began to anticipate his visits, and when he did stay at the hotel, I would always find a way to see him. Without fail, he would open a pocket watch several times and stare at a picture in it. One day, he arrived looking so sad. And this time when he looked at the picture, he took it out and tore it in two.”

  “Oh,” Rose said with understanding. “Esther Callen was her name, I believe. His ‘beloved Esther’ as he would say. She was once the midwife here in Tall Pine.”

  Meg nodded and told Rose the whole story of her bringing Jonathan the doughnuts. “I recognized him right away, but I was embarrassed and ashamed.”

  “Why?” Rose frowned. “You were kind and most likely helped him in a difficult time.”

  Meg twisted a piece of her skirt. “I flirted. Me! A plain cook, a proletarian girl flirted with an educated doctor. It is embarrassing.” She placed her head in her hands. “He had been in love with such a lovely, accomplished woman; he must have thought it comical when I approached him.”

  Rose sighed. “Meg, there is nothing wrong with a beautiful woman flirting with a handsome man. He wasn’t ma
rried, you were not married, and for heaven’s sake, dear, if bringing someone doughnuts is your idea of shamelessly flirting, then you are welcome to flirt with me anytime,” Rose laughed.

  Meg smiled weakly and reached for her tea. “It is not only that.” She took a long sip followed by a deep breath. “My step-father … tried to do things to me, things he did with other women. He liked the fight I put up, but with each year he became more persistent. He told me I was a seductress, a woman who held the evil of Eve by making men lust after me. I know it is nonsense, but he treated me that way and it somehow gave other men the sense that I was tainted. I can’t tell you the things I was offered, or asked to do without feeling awful about myself. That is how I was treated and how I …”

  “Viewed yourself.” Rose finished, her eyes softening. Meg nodded and closed her eyes, refusing to cry. Rose shook her head in disbelief. “Mr. Lars is an evil man, Meg. Of course he would want you to feel tainted, because evilness always wants us to feel tainted. It wants us to feel ashamed and that we are beyond redemption, beyond help, beyond the grace of God. It is a lie, evil always lies.” She paused for a moment letting Meg digest her words. “You cannot take what he says as eternal truth. Passion, love, beauty can all be twisted for wicked purposes.” She looked down at her hands, “But the feeling of wanting to be with a man, of expressing your love in a passionate way, is not evil when used in God’s way.

  “God placed those feelings in us. Yes, He expects us to control them and use them for the right purposes. He wants his children to enjoy the pleasures of love between a husband and wife, and He aches when He sees them distorting that gift out of desperation, or lust, or greed.” Her look pinned Meg. “Do not feel you did anything wrong by—” she gave a half smile, “flirting, and certainly do not feel less worthy because you are a woman; there is nothing more beautiful, awe inspiring, and fierce then a woman devoted to God, and that includes her beauty, her ability to be sensual, passionate, and also to be pure and kind. ”

  Meg’s eyes dropped to her hands. “You seem to know God on a different level than I thought feasible.”

  Rose laughed at herself. “Oh, I have prayed to Him enough … maybe annoyed Him even,” she teased.

  Meg let out a breathless laugh. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I do hope, should Jonathan remember me, that he thinks I was just being kind.” Rose nodded in understanding. “Well, kindness is never inappropriate, and what you did was kind, so I would not worry about it.” She lifted her chin at the mirror. “You do look especially beautiful right now.”

  Meg looked at the mirror and her lips parted.

  “Surprised at how beautiful you look?” Rose stood back allowing Meg to fully take over the mirror.

  “I … I am not plain,” she whispered, afraid to break some spell that held her hair in place.

  “You were never plain, Meg. I simply imagine that dreadful Mr. Lars convinced you of such.”

  “Mr. Lars and my mother,” Meg swallowed the lump in her throat. “If I ever have a daughter I will make her feel beautiful no matter what she looks like.”

  Rose nodded in agreement. “I think you will find, Meg, that you truly will think your daughter is beautiful. In your eyes no one will compare to her.”

  Meg nodded and turned away from the mirror. Rose smiled. Meg was a lovely woman, especially when her cheeks glowed and her eyes were bright, revealing a gold ring around her irises.

  “Daisy is lucky to have you, Miss Rose.”

  “I am lucky to have her.” She closed the space between them and took Meg’s hands, “And please, just call me Rose. Miss Rose puts a distance between us that I don’t wish to have.”

  “And you are sure everything fits right?” Meg looked down at her dress. Any time she had gone out it had been in her work clothes. Rose opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her mother coming in, “Dr. Jonathan is here and—” she paused, beaming when she saw Meg. “Oh beehives and cream buckets! Meg you look beautiful, absolutely beautiful.” She shook her head.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Rose stood back admiring Meg. “And that is after a full day of cooking meals for hungry men and making cookies and loaves of bread.”

  “As well as cooking the workers’ dinner and ours. I don’t know how you do it,” Anna added.

  “Well, Frank and Bill helped me a lot today,” Meg said standing up slowly, afraid to ruin the moment. “I am glad of that at least.” Anna nodded to the doorway, “Shall we?”

  “We’ll be right down,” Rose assured her mother. “I just need to add a few details to Meg’s hair.

  “Ten minutes enough time?” Anna asked.

  Rose nodded and motioned for Meg to sit down while she adjusted a few strands of hair.

  Meg bit her lip. “You said that you think you annoy God sometimes?”

  Rose’s mouth twitched. “Well, I don’t actually think God is ever annoyed with us, but I have formed the habit of praying to Him often. There was a point in my life where prayer was my lifeline, so to speak.”

  “How so?” Meg prodded.

  Rose sighed, searching for the words to explain. “I guess you can say that my emotions were at an all-time low. I realized that nothing I could do would change Cade, and I had a lot of anger, anger at him for ruining my marriage, anger at myself for not seeing signs of the problem before I married him, anger at God for letting it happen, anger at my body for not getting pregnant. I can go on. I was a giant mess of bitterness. For a moment I … well, I almost wanted a taste of Cade’s life. Out of rebellion to God, myself, my standards, I wanted to feel what it felt like to have no inhibitions.”

  Meg raised her eyebrows. “Did you?”

  Rose gave a subtle shake of the head. “As angry as I was, I had a testimony of God and His commandments,” she laughed heartily, “and that made me mad as well. However, I did realize I needed to change before I went crazy. So I decided I would weary God with my prayers until He answered me.” She placing another pin in Meg’s hair, “And He did.”

  Meg chewed her left cheek. “I’ve never prayed much. I worry about not being answered, you know. It would feel like another rejection.”

  “It can feel that way and often does. Prayer is seldom an explosion of insight or vision. Most of the time it is like chipping away at a rock to reveal the diamond inside. We continue to pray and slowly, little by little, God reveals His will to us.” She placed her hands on Meg’s shoulders, “And it is always worth the wait.”

  Meg smiled. “How did you pray?”

  Rose laughed. “Oh, sometimes I sobbed, other times pleaded almost yelling, sometimes soft words, or even silent desires in my heart. I addressed God and then spoke to Him as a loving Father and tried to have the faith that He is an omniscient God.”

  “Charles Lars said women weren’t worthy to speak to God, let alone have Him listen.”

  Rose cocked an eyebrow. “Well Charles Lars sounds downright crazy.”

  Meg grinned. “I am starting to see that.”

  Fifteen

  Meg felt her foot might fall off from shaking it so much—a habit she’d always had that manifested her nervousness. It wasn’t simply Jonathan who made her nervous, although his presence made every bite feel like rocks as she fought the urge to look at him. Being with the Castle family felt different. Her meals had always been rushed, a bite here or there, always slightly hungry, never able to fully enjoy her meals. Yet here she sat, listening to the ongoing conversations circling the table. Jeffries had joined them and brought the twins who sat silently, careful not to make eye contact, and Meg was glad for their presence so that attention was dispersed instead of focusing on her.

  When she re-poured Frank’s milk, she stole a glance at the doctor and saw him looking at her. She averted her eyes, pretending to look at the roasted parsnips, which then she felt compelled to ask for, even though she was thoroughly stuffed. Unable to help herself, she looked at Jonathan again beneath her thick lashes. He was talking to Jeffries, b
ut his eyes flickered to her.

  Was he really looking at her as much as it seemed? Or was he only looking because apparently she had no self-control when it came to stealing glances? It was always hard to tell, wasn’t it? Not knowing if one looked at you because you looked at them or if it was the other way around.

  “This cornbread is amazing,” Jonathan suddenly proclaimed. “Did you make this Mrs. Castle?” he asked, his eyes sweeping across Meg and landing at last on Anna.

  “Oh, no. Meg made the bread. She is putting my cooking skills to shame.”

  Jonathan shot Meg a smile, and she felt her heart spasm. “I love corn bread, especially with honey butter.”

  Meg’s eyes brightened. “I know it’s a favorite of yours, I—” She stopped and swallowed, looking at her plate, not knowing how to retract her comment. He couldn’t know she’d worked at the Red Bear, nor that she was the cook who had flirted with him. He might even think she’d followed him here, and how embarrassing that would be?

  Rose saved her, touching Meg’s hand reassuringly beneath the table. “I told Meg you loved cornbread,” she said. “You always took it for lunch growing up.”

  Jonathan nodded, with a puzzled expression. “Well, it is the best I have ever tasted, and that is saying a great deal, believe me.”

  Rose glared at him. “I notice that you do not mention my corn bread, Jonathan. I did make you some on occassion.”

  Jonathan grimaced. “I remember … was that cornbread? I thought you were playing a joke on me by giving me rocks.”

  After Rose feigned a shocked gasp, the table went back to easy conversation. Meg relaxed, speaking eagerly to Rose and the two silent men flanking her as a means of distraction.

  “Gentlemen, will you help me with dishes, and then we can serve dessert?” Mrs. Castle asked. “And Jonathan, I believe you needed to check Meg for an injury.”

  “I should put Daisy down to bed, then I’ll join you,” Rose said.