by Emily Woods
And yet, somehow, she slept.
Rays of soft sunlight caressed her cheek and roused her from her slumber. Giving a luxurious stretch, Kate momentarily forgot the horrors of the previous evening and nearly woke with a smile on her face. But in a flash, everything came back to her, and her heart became like lead.
Wearily, she sat up and reached over to wake Maddie. The girl opened her eyes but had a frown on her face, her eyes bleary from her broken sleep.
“Hello, dear one,” Kate murmured, bringing the girl's small form to her own. “Did you sleep well?”
Maddie shook her head, her silken blond hair whispering over the shoulders of the too-big nightgown.
“Bad dreams?” Kate asked, but Maddie merely shrugged. She leaned against Kate's side and clutched her doll close to her chest. In all the confusion, Kate hadn't even noticed that Maddie had managed to rescue it.
Carefully and lovingly sewn together by her own mother's hands, Cindy was now in poor form. Its yellow hair was blackened in places and the red gingham dress was torn.
“She'll need to be washed,” she told Maddie gently, but the girl frowned and wrapped her arms around it even tighter. “You can have her back this afternoon, but she's very dirty.”
Maddie refused to give in, her eyes filling with tears. Kate didn't have the strength or the will to argue, so she just sighed.
“Whenever you're ready then.” Her daughter had lost too much for Kate to be stern with her now. Besides, a little dirt wouldn't hurt her.
Mrs. Johnston had left out some clothing for both of them, so after washing their faces, they dressed and went down to the kitchen where they were greeted by a cheery face and a hearty breakfast.
“I won't ask if you slept well because that would be silly, but I hope a big breakfast will give you some energy.”
On the table, there were large platters filled with bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausages, and toast. Kate nearly smiled. How much did the woman think that the two of them could eat?
As though reading her mind, Mrs. Johnston gave a little laugh and shrugged. “I know it's too much, but I couldn't seem to help myself. Please don't feel bad if you can't eat much. My husband will make a significant dent in it when he comes back from his morning stroll.”
After a quick prayer, said more out of habit than any gratitude or desire for a blessing, Kate put a small spoonful of eggs on her own plate and an even smaller portion on her daughter's. Maddie poked at the yellow mass with her fork, but after one bite, placed the utensil down again.
“How about some bacon then?” Kate encouraged, taking a few pieces for herself. “Or some toast?”
Maddie looked at the strawberry jam and then at her mother as though trying to tell her something with her eyes.
“Alright.” Kate piled the jam on a piece of toast and laid it on her plate. The little girl took a few bites, but then placed it back down. She drank a little of the milk but then just sat swinging her feet under the chair.
Kate did her best to do justice to her generous neighbor's smorgasbord, but in the end, she couldn't manage more than just half of what she'd taken.
“I'm so sorry,” she murmured. “But I'm afraid we aren’t very hungry.”
“Don't worry about it, my dears,” she soothed. “I understand completely, and don’t you worry. I can use a lot of these leftovers. The bacon will do nicely for some sandwiches at lunch.”
The thought of lunch, still hours away, made Kate think about the passing of time. Although Mrs. Johnston wouldn't be in any rush to throw them out, she needed to make a plan of what they would do and where they would go. But before all that, she had a number of other things to deal with.
“I-I need to go to the funeral home,” she said, almost apologetically. “And I guess the bank? And... And...” It was difficult to think of what else needed doing. “I suppose I should send a telegram to my aunt in Montana. She's the only living relative we have.” That hadn’t really been an option last night, but Kate figured she should at least inquire.
Mrs. Johnston frowned. “You can live here with us for now, Katie dear. Possibly even indefinitely. I have this big house that's empty now except for me and Mr. Johnston.”
Kate shook her head. “I appreciate it, but your children won't like it.”
That much she knew for sure. Although fully grown now, the three girls whom she'd lived next door to all her life would not be pleased if she were to take up residence here. They had never shown her any kindness when they were children, in part, she thought, because they thought that their mother spent far too much time trying to include her in their family. They all should have been the best of friends, especially since the youngest was her age, but instead, they saw her as a rival for their mother's attention. They wouldn't suffer her presence in their parents' house for very long.
“That's so kind, but I need to make a plan for Maddie and myself. If my aunt can't take us in, then I'll look for work in the city.”
She hated the thought of going to work, not because she was lazy or without skills, but rather because it would mean leaving her daughter with strangers much of the time. She'd worked as a secretary before she'd gotten married, and she knew that a woman was expected to work twice as hard as a man for roughly half the salary. In all likelihood, she would have to be out for twelve hours of the day just to make enough for them to live on.
Mrs. Johnston tried to persuade her otherwise, but Kate knew that she would have to leave. “Hopefully by the end of the month,” she promised. “Sooner, if my aunt gets back to me quickly.” A thought occurred to her, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I'm sorry to ask you this, but could I borrow the price of the telegram?” It grated on her to ask this small favor, but what else could she do?
Shaking her head with concern, Mrs. Johnston quickly retrieved a few coins, much more than what was needed to send a telegram, and pressed them into Kate's hand. “Never mind about the borrowing part. I'm happy to give you this and whatever else I have. No one has to know.”
So it seemed that she was aware of the bitter feelings her daughters harbored toward Kate. The generosity shouldn't have surprised her, but Kate felt tears prickle the backs of her eyes nonetheless.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tucking the money into the pocket of her dress. She pushed her chair back and started to clear the table.
“Leave that for me, if you please,” Mrs. Johnston said with a tender smile. “Believe it or not, I miss the days of cleaning up after someone. Run along and see to your errands. I'll have a nice lunch waiting for you when you get back.”
Kate left the house, coins jingling in her pocket, and headed for the lawyer's office. She knew they wouldn't get much for her parents’ estate, but it had to be worth something. It was just a short trip from there to the bank, where she would find out what her financial standing was. As an only child, she would inherit everything, so there must be enough for her to survive on temporarily. She hated herself for thinking that way, but for Maddie's sake, she had to try to be practical. That meant burying all her feelings, all her grief, down deep. She had no time for any of that now. Their future was at stake.
Both the trips to the lawyer’s and the bank had been disheartening. Kate discovered that until there was a buyer for her parents' land, there would be no money. The news was almost as bad at the bank. Apparently, her parents hadn't managed to save much over the years. There was barely enough to see them through the next few months, should she decide to rent a small place. That money wouldn't last longer than that. She knew that much.
Desperation and anger filled her as she walked toward their last stop: the postmaster. There, she sent a short telegram to her Aunt Marge in Great Falls, Montana. It had been many years since she’d seen her father’s sister, and she knew very little about her. One thing she did know was that Aunt Marge didn't live exactly in the town, so it was not possible to know how long it would take before she received the message, let alone how long it would be before she got a re
ply. Kate automatically sent up a plea Heavenward that it would be sooner rather than later.
Again, the prayer came from habit rather than out of a deep, abiding belief. She felt that any faith she might have claimed died with her parents. Her marriage, her husband’s suicide, and her eventual state of poverty had caused much of it to disintegrate, but now it was entirely gone. It was clear to her that God either didn't love her, or couldn't be bothered with her. In either case, she was on her own.
I hope you liked the preview of A Gentle Love. You can get the rest of the story on Amazon.
amazon.com/dp/B072S7TXB1
Be sure to check out all of my books
amazon.com/Emily-Woods/e/B013U2UNV0/