Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]

by Shadow on the Quilt

  She swallowed. Cleared her throat, and managed to get through the next two verses:

  “Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?

  We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer.

  Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share?

  Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer.

  Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?

  Precious Savior, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer.

  Do your friends despise, forsake you? Take it to the Lord in prayer!

  In His arms He’ll take and shield you; you will find a solace there.”

  When she had to stop reading again, she looked at the aunts and Lutie. All of them had tears in their eyes. Juliana laughed. “Well, it seems we’ve hit a nerve.”

  Aunt Theodora nodded. “It’s perfect for a place called Friendship Home.”

  Juliana managed to read the last verse through tears:

  “Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised Thou wilt all our burdens bear.

  May we ever, Lord, be bringing all to Thee in earnest prayer.

  Soon in glory bright unclouded there will be no need for prayer.

  Rapture, praise, and endless worship will be our sweet portion there.”

  Together, the ladies removed to the dining room and spread out the samples Mr. Lindermann had provided.

  “Now, what about frames?”

  “Cabinet frames,” Aunt Theodora said. “From Miss Stein’s studio over on P Street.”

  Aunt Lydia chimed in. “Or Herpolsheimers?”

  “You wouldn’t want to go now and see?” Lutie asked. “I’d love to have these up when we have the open house.”

  And so the ladies set out on an impromptu Saturday afternoon shopping trip. The Sutton women offered to stop at Lindermann’s and place the order for the prints on their way home. Mr. Lindermann, gracious as always, reassured them that it was his privilege to provide the prints at no cost to a good cause and promised that he would forgo the “courtesy of Lindermann’s Funeral Parlor” insignia that he usually put at the bottom of such things.

  “And now,” he said as he set their order aside, “I wanted to tell you that the Sutton monument has arrived. The cemetery will set it in place on Monday.”

  It was good news in a way, but Juliana noted that the aunts were uncharacteristically quiet on the ride home. For her part, Juliana just felt … tired. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Caroline Harrison’s proclamation that Cass was in love with her. She couldn’t seem to stop waiting for him to appear at the door, or to show … something. Some indication. But he was buried in work related to the new church Sutton Builders had taken on, and neither his family nor Ludwig Meyer had been in church on Sunday. Juliana didn’t know what that was about, and she didn’t dare ask. It would be rude to appear to be monitoring church attendance. Once again, a cloud hovered overhead. The ladies picked over their supper with little enthusiasm, and when Martha expressed concern, Juliana told her about Mr. Lindermann’s news.

  “I suppose it’s good news in a way, but I feel as if someone has pulled a plug and drained all the joy right out of the day.”

  The aunts retired early. Juliana followed suit, but when she couldn’t sleep, she grabbed her dressing gown and slipped out onto the balcony to look up at the stars. A line from the hymn came to mind. Take it to the Lord in prayer. She wanted to. She just didn’t know what to say.

  STERLING THEODORE SUTTON

  FEBRUARY 17, 1841 – APRIL 15, 1883

  WE’LL EVER HOLD THY MEMORY DEAR,

  AS THROUGH THIS VALE WE TREAD,

  AND BOW SUBMISSIVE TO THAT POWER,

  THAT LAID THEE WITH THE DEAD.

  Juliana stood dry-eyed at Sterling’s grave while the aunts cried.

  “It’s a lovely tribute,” Aunt Lydia murmured.

  “It is,” Juliana agreed. “Thank you for providing the epitaph, Aunt Theodora.”

  “We used it on my father’s monument. I’ve never forgotten those words.” She cried quietly for a moment before saying, “And it is no easier to ‘bow submissive’ today than it was then.” She shook her head. “I’ll never understand why he ran in to that place.”

  As the ladies made their way back to the buggy, Juliana gazed across the cemetery to Nell Parker’s grave. There would be no granite obelisk there. Between Nell Parker and Sterling lay the lots set aside for the Home for the Friendless. The society planted flowers every year in a crescent-shaped bed near a simple obelisk that marked the place, but individual graves remained unmarked. That was wrong.

  As Juliana climbed into the buggy and took up the reins, then guided Fancy through the gates and out onto the road that connected with O Street in town, she began to make plans to do something about it.

  Jenny

  Wednesday, October 31

  Jenny watched out her bedroom window as the shadows lengthened and Mrs. Harrison didn’t leave the big house. She’d thought of taking Johnny with her and just going over there and getting it over with, but it was all she could do to carry Johnny downstairs these days. It scared her the way it hurt her. She’d just have to wait.

  By the time Mrs. Harrison finally came out onto the porch and headed this way, Jenny had fed Johnny his supper and put him to bed. She supposed that was for the best. If Mrs. Harrison got too angry, if Jenny couldn’t keep from crying … at least Johnny wouldn’t have to see it. He was so sweet that way. He didn’t like it when people got upset. When Jenny cried, even if she was quiet about it, he always knew. He’d toddle over and pat her cheeks and snuggle close, like he was trying to make her feel better.

  Jenny got up and crossed the bedroom to where he lay sleeping. At times when she looked at her boy, she thought her heart might break wide open because it just couldn’t hold all her love. Tonight was one of those nights. Tucking the baby’s blanket close around him, Jenny smoothed the hair back off his face. “I love you,” she whispered and then headed downstairs. She made tea, and when Mrs. Harrison came in the door, Jenny called to her from the kitchen doorway.

  “I’m making you some tea.”

  Mrs. Harrison smiled. “That’s very kind of you.” She hung the key to the big house on the hook by the door and came into the kitchen. Sitting at the table, she chatted about all the exciting things happening across the way. About how efficient the kitchen was going to be and how pretty the library looked with the new plants lined up across the big windows, and all manner of things that Jenny pretended to be interested in until, finally, the tea was ready.

  After the first sip, Mrs. Harrison closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. “I do believe you make the best cup of tea I’ve ever tasted.”

  The compliment made it even harder. Jenny sat down. She blurted it out. “I can’t move into that house. I’ll pack my things tomorrow and you can send me and Johnny back to Crutchfield’s, I guess. But I can’t move over there.”

  Mrs. Harrison’s brows drew together. “Calm down. Why don’t you want to move over there? Aren’t you tired of being alone all day? I thought you liked the idea of Johnny being able to play with the other children.”

  “I do, but it won’t work. I didn’t think—I thought she’d just give money. But she’s been here nearly every day, working and helping and—if she sees me—” She shook her head. “Maybe she doesn’t know, but I can’t stay over there. I can’t face it.”

  Mrs. Harrison rose and poured a second cup of tea for herself and one for Jenny. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Mrs. Sutton.”

  “Juliana Sutton is one of the nicest women I’ve ever met. You’ll like her. And she’ll like you.”

  Jenny shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t—I can’t face her.” She’d done her best to keep the tears back, but they began to fall. “I didn’t know she was so nice. I thought—I just didn’t think about her. And then I thought it wouldn’t matter because rich people jus
t give money. They don’t do the work. And it seemed all right because of Johnny. Sterling should take care of Johnny, even if it’s only his money. But then I saw her.” She was sobbing now. “I’ll pack up. Whenever you say. But I can’t face her. I just can’t.” She moved to get up, but Mrs. Harrison reached over and put a hand on her arm.

  “Wait.”

  Jenny stilled.

  “Take a deep breath. That’s good. Another. Calm down.” She took a clean handkerchief from her pocket and handed it over. “Now tell me—in words I can understand—what the problem is. Why are you afraid of meeting Juliana?”

  Jenny couldn’t look at her. She stared down at the handkerchief in her lap, twisting and untwisting it while she spoke. “Her husband. Sterling. He and I—he said—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what he said. When I found out I was going to have our baby, he took me out to his farm.” She told Mrs. Harrison everything. “I shouldn’t have even come here, but I didn’t think Sterling’s wife would be here. She was giving the house away. I didn’t think she’d come here. But she’s nice. She cares about people.” Jenny shook her head. “I can’t face her. Ever.” She put her hand on her distended belly. “I’m feeling better now. We’ll be all right somewhere else.”

  Mrs. Harrison was quiet for a long while. Finally, she said, “I wish you would have told me this sooner.”

  “I’m sorry. I needed the help. Until I could take care of Johnny, anyway.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Jenny looked up.

  “What I mean is I’ve been dreading coming over here to an empty house every evening. Not hearing Johnny laughing.” She took a sip of tea. “Not having hot tea waiting when I come in the door.” She smiled. “Now it appears I didn’t need to dread it. Because I won’t be living alone, after all.”

  Margaret took Cass’s arm Sunday morning as they descended from the train and walked the short distance up Roca’s main street to where a new stone building boasted dark green shutters, flower boxes, and a sign that read, MEYER’S MERCANTILE. OPENING MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19.

  Ludwig handed Sadie the key with a smile. “Do the honors, mein Schatz.”

  Sadie spoke to Margaret and Cass. “You’re the first people to see it since we cleaned up from the construction. So if you see anything that doesn’t seem quite right, you have to promise to let us know. And the upstairs isn’t ready, but—” Church bells rang out. “Guess we’d better hurry if we’re going to make it to church on time.” She opened the door and stepped inside.

  Margaret looked around the neatly arranged store. Empty display cases lined the broad center aisle that spanned the length of the store. Both walls behind the display cases boasted floor-to-ceiling cabinets with drawers below and open shelving above.

  Sadie hurried ahead of them, recounting what merchandise they planned on displaying where. When she reached the back corner, she rested her hand on one of the four ladder-back chairs crowded around a small square table. “This is for anyone who wants to rest a spell.” She pointed up at the chalkboard on the shelf behind her. “I’ll write what we’ve got ready to serve up there every day.” She stepped to the doorway at the back. “There’s a stove back here and a little oven where I can keep things warm. I’ll do most of the cooking upstairs, though.” She smiled at Ludwig. “Ludwig got me the best stove we could afford. Wait till you see it, Ma. It’s something.”

  The church bells rang again. “But we don’t have time to go upstairs now.” She led the way out the back door, locking it and pointing to the two large plots of fresh-turned earth surrounded by a rock border. “The one on the left is for flowers and the one on the right is my kitchen garden.” She pointed into the distance. “But we’ve got all of this space all the way to that row of cedars.” She glanced back at Ludwig. “Ludwig wants to build a barn. Maybe we’ll have our own cow and some chickens.” She shrugged. “I told him I forgot a lot about how to tend cows and chickens. But I’ll learn it all over again if he wants me to.”

  She took Ludwig’s arm and dropped the key into his coat pocket, then glanced back at Margaret. “I know you’re busy with the lunch wagon,” she said, “but I hope you can come out sometimes and lend a hand. I don’t mind telling you I’m a little nervous about keeping a store.”

  Ludwig covered her hand with his. “It will be well, Liebling. You must have faith.”

  “I’m doing my best,” Sadie muttered.

  Together, they all walked to the small Methodist church on the north side of the street. The moment they stepped inside, a small woman with a large smile reached out to them, greeting Ludwig as “Mr. Meyer” and beaming at Sadie. “This must be the lovely fiancée we’ve heard so much about.”

  Ludwig introduced Sadie to the woman. “This is Mrs. Sperling, the pastor’s wife.”

  Mrs. Sperling invited Sadie to a circle meeting. “As soon as you’re moved in,” she said, “we’ll have an appropriate welcome lunch.” She smiled at Margaret. “And you would be most welcome to join us. I know how hard it can be to begin life in a new community. We are so pleased that Mr. and Mrs. Meyer will be among us. It’s going to be grand not to have to take the train up to Lincoln for every little thing.”

  While they were talking, several other women came in the door, and the pastor’s wife effectively detained her visitors so that, by the time the service began, the visitors had met everyone in attendance. During the service, the pastor had them all stand again and introduced them.

  Later in the day, as the train chugged north to Lincoln, Sadie turned to Ludwig and said, “Why do we have to wait until next month? Why can’t we just go ahead and get hitched before we open?”

  Margaret smiled as surprise, delight, and then doubt crossed Ludwig’s face. “We just put that sign up. November 19.”

  Sadie shrugged. “I know. So we get hitched the Sunday before.”

  “And spend the next week setting up a store?” His face turned red, and he leaned close. “What about a honeymoon?”

  “I don’t need a fancy honeymoon off somewhere around strangers.” Sadie leaned close. “We can make all kinds of memories while we’re setting up our store.”

  Margaret turned her head to look out the window, all the while doing her best to stifle her laughter.

  “Now, Ma,” Sadie said. “You don’t have to look all embarrassed.”

  Margaret glanced back just in time to see her daughter take Ludwig’s hand.

  “We’ll have time to take trips after we’ve been storekeeping for a while,” Sadie said. “If you want a trip. But all I want is to finally be home. With you.”

  “If we open the store as promised on Monday the nineteenth,” Ludwig began, “that means we have a wedding—”

  “Next Sunday? How about right after morning church? Ma and I can make a lunch for everyone.” She smiled over at Ma and Cass. “You think Pastor Taylor would allow it? We’d have to have the party inside. It’s too cold to do a picnic.”

  “I don’t know,” Cass said. “You’ll have to speak to Pastor Taylor.”

  “We can do that, can’t we, Ludwig? We could walk right over there from the train.” Sadie glanced at Margaret. “You’d help me with a lunch, wouldn’t you? Bake some of those angel food cakes everybody likes so much?”

  “It’s perfect,” Ludwig said. “Angel food cake for my angel.”

  Sadie shook her head. “Angel? Now you’re calling me an angel? Don’t you be going crazy on me just yet. I haven’t promised for better or worse yet.” She put her head on his shoulder and snuggled close.

  CHAPTER 26

  But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.

  ROMANS 8:25

  Daily State Journal

  Sunday, November 4, 1883

  The Society of the Home for the Friendless, recently renamed Friendship Home, invites the community to visit Friendship Home on Sunday afternoon, November 11, between the hours of 1:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. The home is located on the corner of South an
d Eleventh Streets. The city has watched with anticipation as the edifice was raised and furnished, and many of our citizens have contributed to this fine home, which will open its doors to welcome residents on Monday, November 12. The ladies of the society are to be commended for their efforts, which have been so energetic as to enable them to celebrate the open house fully three weeks ahead of schedule. Would that the gentlemen of the city could be so efficient in the paving of the downtown streets and the ridding of the environs of hog pens and wandering livestock.

  The first thing that woke Cass Monday morning was loud purring and a not-so-gentle nudge as Patch burrowed her way beneath Cass’s comforters. The second thing was the sudden realization that apparently fall had given way to winter at some point in the night. He opened his eyes. Yep. He could see his breath. With a shiver, he climbed out of bed and hurried to stoke a fire in the kitchen and get coffee going. Next, he fired up the woodstove at the other end of the small house. He’d just closed the grate when Ma padded into the room and headed for the cookstove, her long russet braid dangling down her back, the collar to her flannel robe turned up.

  “Goodness,”—she shivered—”it’s as if winter landed on the roof. Someone needs to tell Jack Frost it’s only the first week in November. His presence is not required yet.”

  “You draw a bead on Jack,” Sadie called from beneath her covers, “see to it you don’t miss. He should be shot for sneaking up on us like this.”

  Cass chuckled as he rubbed his hands together, then opened the door for Patch. He retreated back to the kitchen, murmuring thanks as Ma poured him a steaming mug of coffee. Sadie stumbled to the table while they were eating. She poured herself coffee, then retrieved a thick comforter from her room and burrowed into it while she ate.

  “You’re up early,” Cass said. “And you aren’t grumbling about it.”

  “Figured I’d best get in the habit if I’m gonna be a storekeeper’s wife,” Sadie said. “Besides, Ma and I have a lot of baking to do this week. I don’t want us running out of cake and such at the party next Sunday.”