by Kay Moser
“Ain’t no need for that, General.”
“You’ll be losing a good worker, and my conscience is rebuking me. This is a matter of honor ...”
As the men walked away, Mrs. Novak approached Victoria. “Is Sally really okay?”
“She is going to be fine.” Victoria paused, sizing the woman up. “Sarah tells me how supportive you are of her plans to be a teacher.”
“I’m determined that she have a chance.”
“I know it will be difficult for you without Sarah here in the evening.”
“I’ll miss her, I can’t deny it, but I’m awful afraid she’ll fight with her pa.”
Their eyes met.
“He’s got plans ...” Mrs. Novak paused. “We just got to buy her some more time, Mrs. Hodges. She’ll be seventeen soon, and he’s wanting her to marry—”
“I know, Mrs. Novak. Sarah has told me.”
“Kazimir would do anything for General Gibbes.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You’re a smart lady, thinking this up like you have.”
“Sarah is the smart one. I think she can pass the entrance exam into teacher’s training in June.”
Mrs. Novak drew in her breath sharply, and, eyes filling with tears, she abandoned decorum and grabbed Victoria’s arm. “Do you really think so?”
“I know it.” Victoria patted her hand. “In fact, I know she can earn a scholarship. She just needs time for intensive study.”
“I can keep Kazimir from making her marry before the summer. After that ...”
“We won’t worry about anything past June. Sarah is going to pass that examination! Then she’ll have options.”
“Kazimir won’t like it.” Mrs. Novak’s eyes suddenly blazed. “But I don’t care!”
“Leave your husband to General Gibbes.”
Mrs. Novak nodded. “Kazimir will do anything for a little of the General’s attention.”
“For his positive attention.”
“Right. For his positive attention.”
“And I plan to see to it that he gets plenty of it,” Victoria assured her. “As much as we need.”
CHAPTER 20
“I’m off!” Maude announced as she poked her head into the library. “A good constitutional is what this body needs. Stick to that geometry, and I’ll check it when I return.”
Sarah moaned.
“I know, I know.” She shook a playful finger at Sarah. “But don’t you dare reach for your beloved Latin the minute my back’s turned. Victoria and Christine are visiting in the drawing room, so you should have ample time to conquer those problems. Remember ... veni, vidi, vici!”
Through the library door, Sarah listened to the thud of the closing front door as Maude flew through it and the low murmur of the ladies’ voices, occasionally punctuated by Miss Victoria’s happy laughter. How blessed I am to be here! She bent over her geometry book as the clock ticked away. So much to learn. Sarah smiled at the thought. And this afternoon, a firsthand history lesson from General Gibbes as we work on his memoir.
A half an hour later, a crashing noise in the hall abruptly halted the peace.
“Unhand me at once! Who do you think you are?” a woman shouted.
Sarah rushed to the hall and found Mrs. Bellows draped over a console table, struggling to detach her lacy sleeve from its ornate carving.
“Release me this instant!” Mrs. Bellows jerked her arm back, ripping her sleeve loose from the shoulder. “How dare you?” She swatted at the console and sent a Chinese vase flying across the hall and shattering at Sarah’s feet.
Their eyes full of questions, Miss Victoria and Mrs. Boyd raced into the hall, but Mrs. Bellows’ attention was fixated on Sarah. “You!” Her voice rose shrilly as she lifted her sleeve-dragging hand to point. “You are a stupid girl! Turning your back on my help and cozying up to that foreign trash.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Bellows,” Miss Victoria called out. “Won’t you come into the drawing room and have a cup of tea?”
Snorting, Mrs. Bellows turned to eye her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you trouble-making tramp? I know all about women like you! You think you’re so artsy, so highfalutin, bringing your foreign ideas into a decent town and ruining the morals of poor girls like Sally. Well, I don’t cotton to such goings-on! Do you hear? I refuse to welcome you into polite society. You bring shame everywhere you go. Everywhere!” Mrs. Bellows swung her arms so wildly in the air she upset her precarious balance and toppled to the floor.
“Oh!” Miss Victoria gasped. “Let me help you up.”
“Don’t you touch me!” Mrs. Bellows yelled. “I refuse to be contaminated by the likes of you.”
Frances appeared at the back of the hall but stopped short at the sight of Mrs. Bellows on the floor. “Lord a mercy! What gonna happen next? Is everything all right, Miz Victoria?”
“You idiot girl!” Mrs. Bellows shouted at her. “I declare, you’re as stupid as Ada. Does everything look all right?”
“That will do, Edith!” Mrs. Boyd moved forward. “You’ve said quite enough.”
“Christine! I had no idea you were here.”
“I can believe that. I am so astounded by your behavior, I can only think that you must be quite ill.”
“But it’s not my fault! It’s hers!” Mrs. Bellows stabbed her finger at Miss Victoria. “She’s a snake in our midst, a burr under our saddle. She must be rooted out. You are too innocent to know—”
“Silence, Edith! Such words are not acceptable.”
Mrs. Bellows’ face crumpled, and much to Sarah’s astonishment, the woman fell over on her side and began to sob loudly. “No one understands! No one has the slightest idea!”
“We must help her,” Mrs. Boyd murmured.
Miss Victoria strode to Mrs. Bellows’ side and glared down at her. “I don’t know why. Of course we must get her home somehow, but other than that, I have no reason to help her.”
“You have more reason than you know.”
“What reason? She has libeled me from the day I arrived. What is she to me?”
“Freedom. You will never be able to love as God made you to love, Victoria, with unforgiveness in your heart.”
“My helping her now won’t stop her from spreading malicious gossip about me tomorrow.”
“This is not about her, Victoria.”
To Sarah’s amazement, Miss Victoria’s hands quivered as she ran them through her hair. “I know you’re right. It’s not about Edith Bellows. It’s about all my wounds that go back long before I came here.” Miss Victoria took a step toward Mrs. Boyd. “But if you only knew how lacerating Mother’s tongue was on a tiny girl. If you only knew—” She clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. “What am I saying? You were a child in Charleston after the War. They burned your home, imprisoned your father, and left you to starve. How did you—?”
“We all have villains in our lives, Victoria, and we all have a choice. Isn’t Edith’s pain obvious to you?”
“Yes, of course it is. Something is terribly wrong in her life.”
“Forgive her for what she’s done to you. Help her. Start small, Victoria. Start here … now. Not because Edith will change, but because you will.”
Tears slid down Miss Victoria’s cheeks as she nodded, went to Edith Bellows’ side, and knelt.
“I understand, Edith,” she confessed as she took Mrs. Bellows’ hand. “Believe me. I do understand.”
“Help me,” Mrs. Bellows pleaded. “Please help me.”
“I will,” Miss Victoria promised as she smoothed Mrs. Bellows’ rumpled hair back from her face. “We all will.”
Mrs. Bellows buried her face in Miss Victoria’s lap and, clinging to her like a frightened child, cried piteously.
Sarah watched in fascination as Mrs. Boyd assumed the same erect but graceful posture she maintained in all social situations. Her long-fingered left hand rose to waist height and turned palm up as her right hand fluttered down on top
of it. She glided across the room and took command of the situation. “Frances, please bring some hot coffee into the drawing room and then clean up this glass. Sarah, come help us.” She knelt next to Miss Victoria. “Edith, you must sit up now. We are going to take you into the drawing room and resolve your difficulties.”
“I can’t!” Mrs. Bellows wailed. “And you can’t help me!”
“I assure you, Edith, there is nothing I can’t do. Now, give me your hand. You are going into the drawing room. That’s settled.” She turned to Sarah, who was so stunned she hadn’t moved. “Come help me lift Mrs. Bellows, Sarah. She is ill.”
Sarah raced across the porcelain-strewn hall and helped the other two women raise Mrs. Bellows to her feet. Then she looped Mrs. Bellows’ arm over her own shoulders, and, with Miss Victoria supporting the heavy woman on the other side, the two of them managed to walk her to a settee in the drawing room and lower her onto it.
Sarah gladly stepped back from the woman who reeked of the contents of the silver flask. When Frances hurried in with coffee and a cold cloth, Miss Victoria gently wrapped the compress around Mrs. Bellows’ neck and held the cup to her lips. “Frances, send Sam for the doctor,” she ordered.
“No, I think not,” Mrs. Boyd countermanded as she hurried to Miss Victoria’s writing table. “I’ll write a note to her husband, and Sam can deliver it.”
Sarah hesitated, then joined Mrs. Boyd at the writing table. “Mrs. Boyd,” she whispered, “I think I know what’s wrong with her. She smells like the stuff she keeps in her room. She keeps it hidden—”
Mrs. Boyd held up her hand to stop Sarah’s words. “She is ill. That’s all we need to say.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah agreed although she did not understand. “She is ill.”
“Frances, send Sam to the newspaper office with this note. Tell him that under no circumstances is he to give it to anyone other than Mr. Bellows himself.”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand. You can be sure Sam gonna do just what you says.”
“I know he will.” Mrs. Boyd rose as she handed the sealed note to Frances. “Then both of you must forget all that has happened.”
Frances looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Bellows sprawled on the settee. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”
“That will be all, Frances,” Mrs. Boyd dismissed her as she turned to Miss Victoria. “We must take her home. It will be so much better for her if we do.”
“Do you think we can? She’s quite—”
“Ill.” Mrs. Boyd finished the sentence. “She’s ill, and we must get her home.”
“Then we shall,” Miss Victoria concluded as she leaned forward to speak to Mrs. Bellows. “We are going to take you home now, Mrs. Bellows. Can you sit up?”
“No-o-o,” Mrs. Bellows whimpered. “I’m dizzy!”
Mrs. Boyd leaned over the woman and stroked her chubby cheek before taking her chin firmly in hand. “Edith, you must be home when Mr. Bellows arrives.”
Mrs. Bellows’ eyes flared. “He’s coming?”
“He is. Now take my hands, and let’s sit you up.”
Mrs. Bellows struggled, Mrs. Boyd pulled, and Sarah rushed forward to push. Together, they managed to get Mrs. Bellows to her feet and held her upright as she swayed.
“We haven’t much time,” Mrs. Boyd warned. “Mr. Bellows must not find her here.”
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this!” wailed Mrs. Bellows. “I’ll be disgraced! Take me out the back.”
“No, Edith, it is wiser to use the front. Anyone can fall ill, as you have obviously done. If we take you to your front door, any neighbor who happens to see you will take pity on you. I’ll cover your torn dress with my shawl, and we’ll have you in your bed in no time.”
“But what will people say?”
“That you fell ill while visiting Mrs. Hodges, and we brought you home. Now let’s go as quickly as we can manage.”
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Bellows was tucked into her own bed, and Mrs. Boyd, still in command, insisted, “Victoria, it would be best if you go home before—”
“Right,” Miss Victoria agreed. “We’re on our way.”
She hurried Sarah out of the room, but just as they descended the last steps to the front hall, Mr. Bellows burst through the front door, demanding, “Where is the darn fool woman? What’s she done now?”
“Your wife is in bed,” Miss Victoria answered quietly. “She became ill—”
“You’re that woman Hodges married, aren’t you?”
Sarah swallowed hard and watched Miss Victoria look Mr. Bellows over from head to foot, her eyes narrowing, her chin lifting.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I am Mrs. Victoria Hodges, your new neighbor.”
“Thought so. What in tarnation Hodges was thinking I’ll never know, bringing a woman like you to Texas.”
“I am a native Texan.”
“Not likely we’d want to claim you,” Mr. Bellows snarled. “What have you done to my wife?”
“That question should be directed to you, sir, not to me. Whatever is wrong with your wife began in your house, and, I suspect, in your company.”
“You’re a brazen bit of baggage, aren’t you? We don’t need your kind in our town, and you can just go to—”
“Good morning, Mr. Bellows!” Mrs. Boyd’s voice rang out from the top of the staircase. “I’m so relieved my note reached you. This matter is a delicate one, and Mrs. Hodges and I thought you would prefer to handle it.” She descended and stood before the blustering man, coolly smiling up at him. “We felt sure you would appreciate our keeping the matter as private as possible.”
“There wouldn’t be a ‘matter’ if this Hodges woman hadn’t arrived in town,” he hissed. “And you durn women hadn’t started meddling in our private affairs.”
Mrs. Boyd’s hands fluttered into their customary graceful clasp at her waist as she lowered her voice. “I see that I am quite incapable of placating you, Mr. Bellows. I shall send for my husband; he will know what to do.”
“Well, well,” he stammered. “That’s not necessary, Mrs. Boyd. We wouldn’t want to disturb Mr. Boyd over such a trifling matter.”
“You’re right, of course,” she agreed, then turned back to Miss Victoria and Sarah. “Mrs. Hodges, if I’m not mistaken, you and Sarah have crowded calendars today, and we must not keep you.” Returning her attention to Mr. Bellows, she added quietly, “Mrs. Hodges is creating a Ladies Literary Society for our little town.”
“So I heard.” His tone was acid. “A literary society with a Czech-farm-girl-turned-maid in it.”
“Apparently, you have not heard that Sarah is assisting my father with the writing of his memoirs.”
Mr. Bellows’ heavy jowls flopped as his mouth flew open. “Why would he choose her? Why ... why ... that’s going to be the most important book the South’s produced since the War.”
“Precisely. And isn’t it fortunate that a brilliant young woman like Sarah is available to help?”
“But—”
“Not only brilliant, Mr. Bellows, but also discreet.” Mrs. Boyd turned her face to the staircase and gazed at the top of it.
With obvious effort, Mr. Bellows gentled his voice. “Most fortunate ... yes, most fortunate. Mrs. Boyd, I want to thank you for your discretion in this matter.”
“I’m confident that all three of us will do our best to protect Mrs. Bellows’ reputation—and yours.” Mrs. Boyd smiled up at him for a meaningful moment, then turned to Miss Victoria and Sarah. “Goodness, the time is getting away from us; we must go.” She wrapped her arm through Miss Victoria’s and beckoned to Sarah. “I’ll just walk you two home and continue on my way.”
As they descended the steps of the Bellows house, Mrs. Boyd commented as if nothing dramatic had just occurred. “What a beautiful day!”
“Indeed,” Miss Victoria agreed, and from that moment until they arrived in the hall of Miss Victoria’s home, not another word was said.
Sara
h felt like she had climbed a mountain and couldn’t for the life of her understand her compulsion to race into the library.
“I’m sure I need not ask you, Sarah, to forget this incident,” Mrs. Boyd said as she paused in the hallway.
“We must protect Mrs. Bellows,” Miss Victoria added.
“Why?” Sarah asked. “I won’t say a word, I promise, but I don’t understand. I mean, Mrs. Bellows has been so mean to you, Miss Victoria.”
“I know, Sarah, and believe me, I’d like to give her a good whack, but I hope I’ve taken the first step to forgiving her ... and others.”
“You have,” Mrs. Boyd assured her.
“I don’t think I could control myself,” Sarah confessed.
Mrs. Boyd smiled. “You will learn, Sarah dear, that all of God’s children have dignity, and we are called to treat all of God’s children with respect.”
“Even when they treat you badly? Even someone like Mrs. Bellows?”
“Yes. In a way, dear, Mrs. Bellows is a gift to us. She forces us to confront our own anger, our own lack of forgiveness and conquer them.”
Sarah turned to Miss Victoria. “Have you conquered your anger, Miss Victoria?”
“No, not completely. I’m sure it will flare up again, but when I met her husband, I understood more, and my compassion is growing.”
“He is so mean to her, like she’s nothing but a bother to him. I saw that in just the few days I was working there. What will happen to Mrs. Bellows now?”
“Hopefully, Mr. Bellows will find her appropriate medical help,” Mrs. Boyd answered.
Sarah shook her head. “Not likely.”
Mrs. Boyd nodded. “I understand your fears, Sarah. For now, we must pray for her. She can be helped if she’s willing.”
“And if Mr. Bellows is willing,” Miss Victoria observed. “And there’s the rub.”
“God has a plan,” Mrs. Boyd said. “We just need to watch it unfold and be ready to play our part. I’ll be going home now.”
When Mrs. Boyd had left, Miss Victoria turned back to Sarah. “Maude will be back soon.”
“Yes, ma’am. I better get busy.”