“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 m
ade 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.”
“He wouldn’t have.” Juliana hesitated, then decided to trust. “Nell Parker wasn’t the only one. I found evidence of others.” She allowed a bitter laugh. “The night he died. Right before the alarm rang.”
After a long silence, he said, “I am so sorry.”
“So am I. For so many things. Among them, throwing a fit over gooseberries.” She took a last sip of water and rose. “You can open the door. I believe the hysterics are over for today.” As she rewrapped her arm, she said, “If you’re still willing to drive me back, I’d appreciate it. Going riding today probably wasn’t the wisest thing I’ve ever done.
Although, I beg you not to tell the aunts I just said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me, ma’am.”
Juliana nodded. Yes. Somehow, Aunt Lydia’s faith in him aside, Juliana knew that Cass Gregory was a man to be trusted. A man who had proven his capacity for great loyalty and the kind of love that lasted through the worst of circumstances.
She thought about it all the way back to town. About what Mr. Gregory’s life must have been like all those years of searching for his family. The loneliness. And then the stubborn refusal to desert his mother and sister, even when there seemed no hope that things would ever change.
What would it be like to know that kind of love? The kind that survived in spite of circumstances? The kind that hoped all things and endured all things and never failed. Even when a woman couldn’t have children.
Alfred came out of the house the moment the wagon drove up. “There was no small stir when Miss Theodora and Miss Lydia got your message,” he said to Juliana as he took Tecumseh in hand.
“I’ve learned my lesson. It’s too early to ride.” After Mr. Gregory helped her down, she smiled up at him. “I’ve learned many lessons, today.”
The foreman tipped his cap, climbed back up to the wagon seat, and headed south. Juliana stood watching until he disappeared from view. Cass Gregory. Pastor Taylor. Sadie Gregory’s fiancé. Alfred Gaines. Maybe men of integrity weren’t extinct, after all.
CHAPTER 14
Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful. LUKE 6:36
Jenny
Monday, May 7
Jenny sat in a chair on the front porch, a tattered quilt draped across her lap. She was trying not to feel sad, but it was hard. It didn’t seem to matter how much she slept, she never felt rested. Susannah was a passable cook, but everything tasted the same, and nothing really tasted good. It had been a week of resting and eating soup, but she wasn’t getting better, and she was scared.
Dr. Gilbert had called today, and all he would say was that she had been very sick and her lungs still weren’t clear and she should rest. He hadn’t heard from Mr. Duncan and he “couldn’t speak to what that meant.” He was kind enough. He just didn’t know anything.
Susannah told her not to worry. She had all kinds of stories about sick women she had tended over the years, and she assured Jenny that she was on the mend and just had to wait. Johnny was doing fine. Maybe they could get Mr. Duncan to bring a goat out.
“Not that I mind tendin’ the boy,” she said, “but he’ll do just fine on goats’ milk, and then you won’t need me.”
Jenny couldn’t imagine not needing Susannah. How would she keep up with washing diapers? She could barely pump a bucket of water and haul it into the house, let alone enough buckets for boiling diapers. Used to be that just sitting out here listening for the occasional birdcall and making plans for the future was enough to still her mind. But no more. Jenny was worried. Worried and afraid. Mr. Duncan had said she should make plans. How could she make plans when she was too tired to do her own hair?
Susannah stepped out on the porch, Johnny in her arms. “Now show your mama what you learned!” She plopped down on the edge of the porch and set the baby down beside her. At first, she held him upright, but then she said, “Just watch, Miss Jenny. You won’t believe it.” And she let go.
Johnny looked up at Susannah with a big smile on his face. Susannah clapped her hands. The baby followed suit, laughing for all he was worth. Laughing so hard it almost made him fall over.
“Isn’t that somethin’?” Susannah said. “He’s getting strong.”
Jenny nodded. It was something. A good something. Except that it made her cry.
Cass patted his stomach even as he waved Sadie away. “I can’t. It’s delicious, but I’m going to turn into a gooseberry if I eat one more piece.”
“You mean it? It’s really good?”
“It’s better than good,” Ludwig Meyer chimed in. He winked at Ma. “It’s almost as if you learned from a professional cook.”
“Oh, you.” Sadie smiled and plopped the pie plate down on the table. Then she invited herself into Ludwig’s lap, wrapping an arm about his neck and leaning close to kiss his cheek. “It’s only the beginning. Ma had me write down a week’s worth of cooking. She’s teaching me fried chicken and biscuits and gravy and roast beef and all kinds of things you like.”
Ma spoke up. “There is a bit of a problem, though.” She twisted about and pulled a piece of paper from beneath a bowl on the sideboard. “Sadie mentioned some things that I have no idea how to make.”
Sadie nodded. “Kuchen?”
“A dessert pastry,” Ludwig said. “With filling. It can be fruit, but my Mutti always made a custard filling.”
“And borscht?”
“Soup,” Ludwig said. “Mostly beets.”
“Do you have recipes for these things?” Ma asked.
Ludwig shook his head. “I never saw it written down.”
“I could ask Andreas Moser,” Cass offered. “He’s on the crew working on Mrs. Sutton’s house, and he’s always boasting about his wife’s cooking. Or,” he said, “you and Ludwig and Ma could come with me to church on Sunday and ask Mrs. Moser yourself. They go to St. John’s.”
Sadie shook her head. “She won’t like me.”
Ludwig leaned away to look at her. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Because her husband—what if he … what if someone …” She shook her head. “They’ll think I’m just pretending. Putting on airs.”
Ma spoke up. “Are you pretending?”
“Of course not.” Sadie looked at Ludwig, who had been strangely quiet. “Do you want me to go to church?”
Ludwig thought for a moment before answering. “Not for me. It should be for you.”
She pondered that. “I won’t fit in. They’ll stare at me. And they’ll know.”
“What will they know, mein Schatz?”
“That I’m not like them. I’m not all hymn-sing-y and good.”
Ludwig chuckled. “No one who goes to church is good without God’s help.”
“Well, you know what I mean.” Sadie pointed at Ma. “You could go. You used to go all the time back home.”
“And so did you.”
Sadie shrugged. “I’m different now. You haven’t really changed much. Only reason you worked at Goldie’s was because of me.”
Ma rose and began to clear the table. “We’ve put that all behind us, remember? Everyone forgave everyone, and we agreed to move forward.”
Sadie rose and began to help clear the table. “And I meant it. I just—I’m not ready for church.”
Ma smiled. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll talk to Mrs. Moser about kuchen and borscht.” She glanced at Cass. “If you’ll introduce me.”
“With pleasure.”
After the women had cleared off the table, Ludwig brought out the checkerboard. Cass lost three games in a row. Finally, he sat back and said, “I give up, Meyer. I’m no match for you.”
The men walked back to the rooming h
ouse together. As they passed the place where Goldie’s had once stood, Cass thought back to that night and seeing Juliana Sutton driving her buggy home after finding her husband’s office empty. She knows. What kind of pain did that cause a woman? How could she bear it? It was no wonder she’d been so angry with him when she thought he was keeping company with Goldie and one of her girls.
Once in his room, he lay on his back, looking up at the strip of night sky just visible through the small window above his bed. He replayed the day in his mind. He remembered the way Juliana’s dark eyes flashed with anger and the way those same eyes had shimmered with tears. He remembered how, when he helped her down from the wagon, she smiled up at him. Sterling Sutton had been a fool to betray that woman’s love. The worst kind of fool.
And he was a fool for lingering over dark eyes that might as well belong to the Queen of England.
“Dear me.” From where she sat in the buggy with Juliana and Aunt Lydia, Aunt Theodora put a gloved hand to hold her hat in place as she craned her neck to look up at the house. “I had no idea.” She looked at her sister. “Did you?”
Aunt Lydia shook her head. “It’s one thing to see a drawing and quite another to see it realized.”
Juliana nodded. “I know. And none of us had been out here in weeks when Sterling died.” Died. Finally, she’d said the word. Sterling died. She looked about her. At the stone cottage, at the pasture. The tall cottonwoods. All hers now. Saying that one word seemed to carve a new place for her in the physical space out here at the building site. It was hers to do with as she wished. Completely hers.
Aunt Theodora called up to Alfred. “And what do you think of the cottage, Mr. Gaines?”
He turned about on the driver’s seat. “Can’t quite think of it as home yet, but once Martha gets to nesting, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Drive us around front if you don’t mind, Alfred.” Juliana looked at the aunts. “The stonemasons finished the front stairs this week. And I want you to see the interior.”
Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] Page 14