A Man for Glory

by Carolyn Davidson

  Cade nudged Glory and bent to whisper in her ear, “Did you check out the wrapper we spoke of?”

  “Oh, yes. I need a few yards of fabric, ma’am. Six yards should be more than enough. Maybe that blue-checked one on top of the pile.”

  The lady hurried to the bolts of yard goods that sat atop a counter at the other end of the store, lifting one to show Glory. “Is this the one you want?”

  “No, she’ll take the one to your right, with red-and-yellow flowers on it.” Cade’s voice stilled Glory’s quick protest. “I like my wife in pretty colors. She’ll look like a princess in that one.”

  Glory flushed, embarrassed by Cade’s words, yet pleased by his choice of fabric. It was pretty, she thought, with the flowers and green leaves against a creamy background. A gift she would cherish because Cade had chosen it. She lifted onto her tiptoes and whispered her thanks in his ear. A wide grin appeared on his face and he bent to her, his lips against her ear as he responded.

  “You can thank me properly tonight, ma’am. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  She cast a look at Buddy and Essie, who were both oblivious to the byplay of the adults, and her next words were for them.

  “Why don’t you two pick out some candy today.”

  “Can we, Glory?” And then they looked at Cade for his approval, which was immediate, accompanied by a smile that offered his permission. They scampered to the counter where candy was kept in round glass containers. They found licorice whips and pretzel knots, then consulted between themselves over a multitude of hard-candy shapes.

  “How much should we get, Pa?” Buddy asked Cade, looking up for guidance in his purchases.

  “How about five cents for each of you?” Cade answered, to which Essie could only gasp at such largesse.

  Their purchases filled two small bags and the children literally danced to the door, Buddy more staid, due to his advanced age, Essie oblivious to the smiles that came her way, so pleased was she with her prize.

  The foodstuffs Glory purchased were put into boxes and carried to the wagon by Cade and Mr. Nelson. Then Cade lifted Glory to her seat and checked to see that the children were settled behind him before he lifted the reins and directed his team to take them home.

  Buddy sat in the back of the wagon, ever vigilant of the ruts and bumps in the road, tending to the stack of lumber for the shelves and the much-admired window with six glass panes and raw-wood frame. They’d also bought a gallon bucket of paint, a bag of nails and a new saw, which were placed beside the lumber, wood for shelving and a cabinet of sorts that would hold Buddy’s clothing.

  The boy was excited, his words filled with anticipation. “I never had a room with two windows, Pa. It’ll be great to be able to look out over the backyard and see the side where the lane is, too. Will there be room for a shelf between the two windows, do you think?”

  Cade looked at Glory, sharing the joy of the boy behind them. “I figure you can have a shelf there with your new dresser or whatever beneath it, and another shelf next to your bed. Enough room for your books and maybe we’ll put your desk there, too.”

  “Oh, boy.” His exclamation was almost silent, but audible to the two who sat together on the wagon seat. Glory reached for Cade’s arm, and tugged it close to her.

  “Me, too, Pa? Will I have a desk like Buddy’s? Or a dresser, maybe?” Essie was bound and determined to gain her share of Cade’s attention, and she was not to be disappointed.

  “Essie, we’ll get Buddy’s room fixed up first and then work on yours. And yes, you’ll have lots of room for your clothes and your baby doll, just like we told you the other night.”

  “Is Glory gonna get a new room, too?” Essie asked, obviously concerned that Glory would not share in the fun.

  “No, she’s stuck in her old room with me. But she’s going to have a new closet built for her clothes.” And I’ll have reason to get behind the walls in our room. Maybe Harvey Clark kept his cache that close at hand.

  “She’s already got her screen in the corner.”

  “Well, now she’s gonna get a space that’s more private.” Cade grinned at Glory as he spoke.

  The afternoon went quickly, Cade deciding to tear out the wall between the two rooms and then ready the space for the window right after dinner He cautioned the children to give him an hour to accomplish his task, without interruption, for tearing out the wall was a messy job and he didn’t want Buddy hurt by flying chips of plaster or Essie stumbling over the wood he would uncover as he worked. And perhaps find some trace of the gold he sought within the wall.

  And so as he began his chosen task, he decided on the proper distance from each corner of the room, centering the space for the window before he began. His hammer struck the plastered wall repeatedly before he made a breakthrough and saw the first of the wall hit the floor.

  With a pry bar and sturdy arms, he managed to empty the space before him. Then, as he looked down between the studs that held up the wall, he caught sight of fabric or perhaps leather. Curious, he pulled a bag out and read the words printed on the heavy cloth.

  “St. Louis Bank of Missouri.” Plain and clear, it lay in his hands and bid him read it again. He did, several times, his heart beating rapidly. For in his possession was the gold Harvey Clark had hidden inside this wall. The plaster over the space was fresher than the rest of the room, and Cade realized that Clark had indeed been the criminal and been justly punished.

  If he’d thought it untrue that Harvey Clark had stolen gold and hidden it somewhere, he now had the proof in his hands that the man had been a thief and his death had been the result of his own folly.

  He held the bag before him, studying it closely before he opened it, allowing the gold coins within to pour out into his palm. Riches beyond his own experience filled his hands and he was stunned by the revelation. What to do? Should he tell Glory? Report this to the sheriff? Probably, to get this job finished and done with. But then again … His heart slowed as he considered the effect such a thing would have on his family.

  The children were barely over the tragedy of their father’s death. To bring this up would label the man in their eyes as a thief, would make them the brunt of renewed scorn by the townsfolk. Indeed, even Glory would be tarred by the brush of circumstance, for she had been the man’s wife and thus might be considered an accomplice.

  Cade returned the bag to its place in the wall and looked down within the studs to where the gold had been, undisturbed for over ten years already. And to where it would lay for however long it took to make the decision to turn it over to the sheriff. He found new boards, cut them to fit and replaced the wall beneath the new window, hiding away the gold from his family.

  With a can of paint, the room would look like new, the wall repaired nicely, the curtains of the window he’d just installed blowing in the wind. Buddy’s new room would be complete.

  The wall he’d begun to tear down was next on his agenda and he finished his cutting and pounding by late afternoon. The raw look of the opening would be finished off with the fresh wood he’d purchased, painted over with the bucket of white paint.

  He heard Glory call his name and noted the sun from the window facing west. It was fast moving toward the horizon, and he’d best hurry to be sure the window was secure, with no spaces left open lest it rain.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he called back to Glory and then fitted one more board at the top of the window, sealing off an area that needed to be secured. No daylight showed through any other part of the wall, and he was satisfied that it was finished for tonight. Tomorrow would be time enough to paint a first coat on the wall and window frame.

  Then he’d finish off the raw wood on the opening he’d cut, and let Buddy come in and help with the painting while he measured shelves and put them in place.

  Glory was ready to sit down at the table when he came downstairs. Two shiny faces greeted him with grins a mile wide as he sat between them.

  “I saw my new window
from out back, Pa,” Buddy said happily. “It sure looks nice, especially with the sun shining on the glass. Can I help you tomorrow?”

  “I’m counting on it, son. There’s wood to paint and shelves to build and a place on the floor to fix where the wall was. We’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  He turned to Glory then, questioning her about her afternoon. “Did you get everything put up from your shopping trip, sweetheart? I wondered if you’d paid any mind to the wrappers they had at the store, and then I figured you had when you bought the material we saw.”

  “Everything got put away, Cade, and yes, I saw a wrapper and looked it over real good. I think it will be easy enough to make. I’ll have to figure out if it’s a circle of fabric and how to cut my material to do that. But I think I can do it. I counted all the seams and saw how the skirt was put together.”

  “You’re sure smart, Glory.” Essie was clearly impressed by the discussion, for she hadn’t ever shown an interest in the work invested in the clothing Glory made for her. Many a night, after the children were abed and the house was quiet, Glory had sat by lamplight, sewing buttonholes and seams and hems, so that both children would be dressed well.

  “She surely is smart,” Cade agreed. “I just wish you’d gotten yourself the store-bought wrapper like I wanted you to.”

  “I can make one just like it,” Glory said firmly.

  He reached to spear a plump chicken thigh and Glory sighed. “This is the last of the young roosters from this spring,” she said. “We won’t have more until my old clucks hatch their eggs. It doesn’t take long before the chicks are grown enough to provide food for the table, though.”

  “What will you do with the old hens, Glory?” he asked, curious about her knowledge of such things. “How do you know when the younger hens will start laying?”

  “We just cull them out every year, Cade. The older hens I put in canning jars and use the meat throughout the winter. I can make stew or dumplings or soup or whatever from them. The pullets start laying right early, and their eggs are small to start with, but it doesn’t take long till they’re producing eggs every day.”

  “Is this a job you’re going to do soon?” he asked.

  “You’ll be involved in the job, Cade. I’ll let you know to keep a whole day free to help with killing the old hens and plucking feathers. I’ll keep the soft feathers for pillows, and throw out the rest.”

  “That all sounds like women’s work to me,” he said smoothly, his smile superior.

  “Sounds to me like a man had best help with it if he wants chicken soup this winter.”

  “Well, you have a point there, Mrs. McAllister,” he said finally, yielding the argument to her. And yet it had been bantering at its best, he decided, for neither of them had held the upper hand, only shared their opinions.

  The sun had set before they finished their meal, and Cade lit the kerosene lamp over the table. Buddy rose and went to the parlor, his book in hand, a tablet tucked under his arm and a pencil behind his ear.

  “I think we have a book report taking place,” Glory said to Cade in an undertone, and he was quick to take the hint. He followed Buddy, and Glory could hear their voices as they spoke of books and the stories they’d both read in the past. Cade almost treated Buddy as an equal in this discussion, for they shared a love for books, and Cade was more than willing to help Buddy with the task he faced tonight.

  Glory sat Essie down at the table and gave her the lesson she’d prepared earlier, then did her dishes as Essie bent over the sheet of paper full of numbers before her. Her tongue was caught in the corner of her mouth and she mumbled beneath her breath as she laboriously wrote down the answers.

  “I think I got them all, Glory. Do you want to check and see if they’re right?”

  Glory dried her hands, coming to the table to sit beside the child. “Let’s see now. This one is right and this one, Essie. In fact, out of all of them, only this last one is not quite right. You forgot to carry a number here.”

  And since this was a new phase in Essie’s education—the carrying of numbers in addition—she wasn’t surprised that the child had missed it.

  “We’ll do some more tomorrow. You’ve caught on so well, I can hardly believe it. I think you must be more advanced than the children in school who are your age. And arithmetic is important in life. All these things you’re learning are useful when you cook or sew or whatever, later on.”

  “Ma’am?” Cade stood before them, his hands in his pockets, and Glory looked up to see his grin.

  “Got that book report finished?” she asked.

  “Buddy’s working on it now. We’ll read it over together when he’s done. In the meantime, I wanted to tell Essie that arithmetic is used in lots of ways. When I measured the wall for Buddy’s new window, I used a yardstick your pa had in the barn. It measures the inches and feet for me so I could put the window in the right place.”

  “Will you show it to me when you work on my room?” Essie asked, wide-eyed at Cade’s words. “Did my pa know how to use one, too?”

  Cade assured the child of her father’s prowess in such things. “I’m sure he did, for this one is not new, but looks to me like he made good use of it in the past. In fact, I’ll warrant that Glory has a tape measure she uses when she sews.”

  “A tape measure? Can I see it?”

  Glory laughed. “It’s nothing special, Essie. Just a long piece of linen with the inches marked on it. When I put it around your waist, I know how big to make your dresses and petticoats.”

  The child seemed a bit subdued. “I didn’t know that, Glory. I’ll be sure to be better about my arithmetic from now on. I want to grow up to be like you and have my own tape measure and stuff. Maybe I can learn how to sew things for my doll baby.”

  “Maybe you can. We’ll figure something out. Perhaps a nightie for her to begin with. That should be easy for you to make.”

  Essie was obviously thrilled at the news, for she danced into the parlor, and Glory did not have the heart to halt her progress, knowing how pleased the child was.

  She needn’t have worried about Essie disturbing Buddy in his work though, for they came back together to the kitchen in mere minutes, Buddy holding the tablet with two pages covered in his neat writing. He offered it to Cade for his approval and it was given back with only one word changed. Buddy made the suggested revision quickly and then offered it to Glory for her perusal.

  She read it quickly, impressed by Buddy’s vocabulary and his passion for the book he’d read. His enthusiasm shone from the pages—his pencil had flown over the lines, painting a picture of the French and their revolution, and the effect it had on the people of those days in history.

  “This is fine, Buddy. Better than I’d thought you could accomplish on your first try. Did Cade help you or is it all your own work?”

  “He explained the things I needed to tell about in the report, how to describe the people in the book and how important they were to the story. But I did all the writing by myself, and added the things I thought were important. Do you really think it’s good, Glory? Good enough to take to the schoolteacher in town?”

  “Oh, my, yes,” she said, grasping the boy close to her for a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Buddy. You’ve done so well.”

  “When can we see the teacher?” It was clearly a question that had preyed on his mind, for he looked so hopeful Glory could not bear to disappoint him.

  “We should have done it before this,” Glory said.

  “I think the next time we go to town, we’ll look her up for certain and let her know you’ll be coming to school at the end of summer. Maybe she has another book she’d like you to read before then. We can take back the one you’ve finished and get another for you.”

  “I hate to give it back, Glory. I know we have to, but I’d really like to keep it for my own.”

  “We’ll see about getting you your own copy one day,” Cade said, speaking words Glory had hoped to hear.

 
; Buddy’s eyes were lit with anticipation of new books and Essie was enthralled by the idea of yardsticks and tape measures being used on a daily basis. She made it her business to bring Glory’s sewing basket to the table and search within for the tape measure she’d seen before but never realized what it was used for.

  Now she unrolled it and measured the table across the middle, bidding Cade to hold the end for her so she could better get an accurate answer. Next she held it around her waist and then had to have Glory read the numbers for she could not see them herself.

  She went to the kitchen window and inspected it anew, as if she’d never seen it before, measuring the panes, one after the other. “Do you know these are all the same size?” she asked.

  “That’s how they make them, Essie. They have to fit inside the frame and be the same size so they can be lined up properly.” Cade walked to where the child stood and showed her how the panes were held in place by the narrow strips of wood.

  It was a lesson in arithmetic Glory would not have known to show the child and she watched in appreciation as Essie asked questions and Cade supplied the answers, Buddy standing by to listen.

  And then it was bedtime, for darkness had enveloped the earth and Cade closed up the house for the night. He slid the bolt on the back door and checked the front, a task he had taken on the first day of their marriage and continued on a daily basis. She’d noticed that he always checked the latches on the windows on the ground floor, but seemed not to be concerned about the ones in their bedroom, for those windows were opened to the fresh air most nights.

  “You take good care of us, Cade,” she told him later as they were readying for bed. She watched him as he pulled back the quilt to fold it at the foot of the bed, then drew down the sheet and fluffed her pillow before he tended to his own undressing.

  “That’s my job, sweetheart. It’s what I promised to do in our wedding ceremony. When I married you, I took on the responsibility of those children, too.”

  “I’m so pleased that you’ve taken hold and made this place what it is today,” Glory said.

  “And what is it, exactly, Glory? This farm you hold so dear, is it different than you’d planned for it to be?”