When the miners’ children were playing nearby in the woods, they would venture into the clearing around her wash fire as she sat on a stump reading. It wasn’t long before she’d made friends with the curious children. Soon she wound up reading to them or telling them stories from the books she had read. Most of them had never attended school. When Juliana had lived in Kansas, she had attended school. After her father decided to go west searching for gold, her schooling stopped. Luckily, her mother had a good upbringing and education herself, and taught Juliana everything she could.
“Yoo-hoo, Juliana!” Her new friend Marion came springing into the clearing where Juliana worked on the laundry.
“Morning,” Juliana called out. Marion was good-hearted, and Juliana was glad to have her friendship.
“Are you nearly through for the day, hon?”
“Soon as I hang out this basketful I will be. Good thing too. My back has had enough for one day.”
“Great. How about going to lunch with me in town?”
“Oh, I couldn’t, Marion.” Juliana didn’t want to spend her few precious coins on dinner in town.
“Nonsense, you’ll be my guest. We’ll go to the Stockton Hotel for lunch. I know the manager there.” She giggled.
“But, I can’t let you do that—”
“Sure you can. We’ll get these hung in no time.” Marion picked up the basket and walked toward the clothesline behind Juliana’s cabin.
Juliana followed obediently, half-smiling. Her redheaded friend loved to be in control. Truth be known, she needed someone to make a few decisions for her right now.
Juliana’s mouth watered at the thought of a good meal prepared by someone else for a change. She tried not to be envious of Marion’s doting father, who just happened to be the manager and owner of the Stockton Hotel.
Marion prattled away as the two began hanging the clean laundry out in the bright sunshine. Her enthusiasm for life made her such a joy to be around. Bursting with energy, she was the apple of her father’s eye, but she pretended not to notice, and it had little effect on her one way or another. She liked most people and seemed to feel it was her God-given authority to help others live out their potential.
Juliana wanted to be like her friend, who was always smiling. But she didn’t have a whole lot to smile about. At least not right now. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt happy.
After the last piece of clothing was hung, Juliana opened the cabin door, being careful not to open it wide enough for her friend to see inside the cabin. She was embarrassed at its bareness and didn’t want Marion to feel sorry for her, or she might get it into her head to try to fix the problem herself.
She slipped in to tell her mother that she was going with Marion. Her mother stood washing dishes.
“I thought I told you to sit down and rest, Mama.”
“Now, Juliana, you know I can’t sit all day with you out there slaving over that hot kettle of wash. Besides, my joints feel better if I move around a bit.”
“Mama, Marion wants to take me to lunch. Is that okay with you? I’m through with the wash and got it all hanging out.”
“Baby, you don’t need to be asking me. You’re nearly eighteen. A grown woman. You go and enjoy a break—you deserve it.” Juliana’s mother dried her arthritic hands on the kitchen towel and reached over to touch her daughter’s hair lovingly.
“Want me to bring something back for you?” She planned on returning with at least a roll from her lunch in her pocket.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have a cup of soup. Actually, that sounds tasty. Right tasty.”
“Mama, you’re too thin. Why don’t you come with us? I don’t think Marion would mind.”
“Juliana, I couldn’t impose. I’m fine.” She shooed her daughter toward the door.
“I’ll be back in time to get the clothes off the line.” Juliana grabbed her cape off the peg by the door and skipped out the door and down the lane to where Marion stood waiting patiently. But she was feeling guilty for an afternoon off.
The walk to the center of Lewistown didn’t take them long. Juliana noticed the usual flurry of activity in the small boomtown, which lent an air of friendliness to its huge flux of homesteaders coming west or those just passing through.
“I’m glad you came along, Juliana. We can talk girl talk and fill our appetites with some of Pierre’s delicious cuisine.”
“Thanks for asking me. I take it Pierre is a chef at the hotel?”
“Yes. Daddy found him down on his luck after coming west from France to seek his fortune. I’m sure when he has enough saved, he will open up his own little café. Just to warn you, he is quite the flirt.” Marion giggled. “But pay him no mind. He talks to all the ladies in such a way that they nearly swoon.”
“Interesting. I’ve never met a Frenchman before.” Juliana held the hotel door open for her friend.
They were quickly greeted by Marion’s father. “Marion, dear. I see you’ve brought your new friend.” Marion’s father was sharply dressed in a suit with his monocle hanging from his brocade vest. Juliana could detect a hint of aftershave as he reached out to grab her hand.
“Father, this is Juliana. Juliana, this is the world’s greatest dad.”
“Oh please, Marion, you’re going to make me blush, to be sure.” He twirled his mustache curl between his thick fingers, and his eyes twinkled.
“I’m very glad to meet you, Mr. Stockton.” Juliana could tell by his manner that he was a sociable sort, and his stature was what Juliana’s mother would call “low chunky.” The thought almost made her giggle. He would be easy to like.
“Come right this way, girls. I have the perfect table waiting just for the two of you near the window.”
Following Mr. Stockton to their table, Juliana surveyed the rich furnishings of the restaurant with pleasure. Crisp white linen tablecloths with a rose in the center of each table lifted her spirits, along with the din of clinking glass, china, and conversation. She felt thoroughly out of place in her plain calico dress, but at least her brown woolen cape covered the upper part of her dress. Juliana felt the stares of the patrons but kept her chin up despite the butterflies in her stomach.
Beautiful artwork lined the walls above the tables, but one in particular caught Juliana’s eye. Pausing to get a better look, she saw that it was a sketch of a man and his dog sitting in comfortable silence. The man had thick brown hair, but something in his amber eyes drew her closer. The irises were large, and she sensed a depth of softness in their expression. One hand lovingly rested on the shoulder of his dog. Somehow he reflected a man of character and one whose word would not be taken lightly.
“Ah, I see you like the newest piece I acquired.” Mr. Stockton tucked his thumbs into his vest pockets.
“I do indeed, but I’m not quite sure why. Who is he?”
“I don’t know him, but the man I bought this from said he was a sheepherder. The artist captured the very soul of the man through his eyes, don’t you think? I feel very confident that this artist will someday be quite famous.”
Juliana smiled at her friend’s father. He apparently thought himself a connoisseur of fine art. “You may be right, Mr. Stockton.” Dragging her eyes from the picture, Juliana realized Marion was already seated by the window waiting for her, so she hurried to their table.
Mr. Stockton pulled out the chair for her and laid the linen napkin in her lap as if his daughter’s friend were royalty. Juliana was very pleased he would show her such consideration, as though he were unaware that she was not accustomed to eating her meals out. But she was certain he knew otherwise.
“There you are. I thought I’d lost you, friend.” Marion’s silver-throated laugh filled the air.
“I was looking at the art your father has collected.”
“Yes, well, he fancies himself a great art collector and then later sells some of the art to dealers or people looking to decorate their homes. But he starts with showing them right here in the rest
aurant.” Marion opened her menu. “I’m starved. How about you? What are you in the mood for?”
“Mmm, just about anything.” Juliana opened her menu, but in her mind, all she could see was the sheepherder’s eyes.
3
They had scarcely finished their lunch when Marion’s father hurried to their table with the town doctor, startling the two young women from their enjoyable conversation.
“Juliana, I’m sorry to interrupt, but the doc here says you need to come quickly. It’s your mother.”
Juliana stood, her napkin dropping to the floor. “What is it? What’s wrong with my mother?” Her eyes sought the doctor’s face.
“I’m Dr. Mark Barnum. Please, if you would, come quickly.” The young doctor reached for her hand, guiding her through the dining tables.
“I’m coming too,” Marion said, and fell into step with them as they made their way down the boardwalk.
Juliana’s heart thumped in her chest. I shouldn’t have left her. I knew she wasn’t well. Please, Lord, let her be okay.
The doctor led Juliana and Marion to a small room at the back of his office, where Juliana’s mother lay on a narrow cot. A thin blanket covered her slight form, and her gray-streaked brown hair spilled about her shoulders. She looked so frail that Juliana gasped. She reached out to pick up her mother’s hand, but the doctor intervened, pulling her a step back.
In a hushed tone, he bid her to take a seat. Marion stood next to her. “Doctor, what is wrong with Juliana’s mother? Is she conscious?”
The young man ignored Marion and looked right at Juliana. “I’m afraid your mother has suffered a heart attack. I want to be frank with you—I’m not sure she’s going to make it. She’s very weak and has been asking for you.”
Juliana’s eyes filled with tears, and she found herself staring at the top button on the doctor’s coat. “How did she get here? She was at home when I left for lunch.” This was all too incredible for her to take in. “Can I talk to her?” Juliana’s voice trembled.
“A gentleman brought her into town to my office. He said he found her lying in the middle of the road on his way into town. When she wakes up again, you may have a moment with her.”
He gave her a look with such tenderness that Juliana felt like crying. He’s trying to tell me she’s dying. Juliana could feel the warmth of Marion’s hand stroking her shoulder through the thin material of her dress.
“I’ll leave you alone with her,” Marion said.
“Marion, please don’t leave.”
“Sugar, I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. I wouldn’t think of leaving.”
Dr. Barnum took Marion’s elbow, and they stepped back into his office, closing the door softly.
Juliana sat at her mother’s side until the late afternoon shadows fell through the only window in the room. Lord, please bring her through this. Touch her heart and make her well, if it is Your will, she prayed.
Her mother stirred and mumbled something. Instantly Juliana leaned over close to her mother’s pale face. Her voice was low, and Juliana didn’t want to miss a word she said.
“Juliana, you’re here.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“My sweet Juliana. You have your daddy’s eyes.” Her mother tried to reach up and touch her face, but Juliana caught her hand and pressed it to her lips.
“Shh . . . you don’t have to talk, Mama. Just get some rest.” Burning tears stung her eyes, and she fought the panic rising in her chest. How odd—her mother’s normally blue eyes had changed to steel gray. Juliana heard her heart pounding in her ears.
“Just don’t be dependent on any man. Find your own way in this world . . . not enough time to tell you how much I love you . . .”
“Mama, don’t talk like that. The doctor is doing everything he can—”
“He loved you.” Her breathing was shallow.
Juliana’s hand shook as she lovingly pushed a strand of her mother’s hair back from her forehead. “Shh . . . don’t talk about Daddy right now. Save your strength.”
“Don’t be mad . . . he wanted the gold for you.”
Juliana clenched her teeth. Sure he did. That’s why he never came back. The gold fields obviously held more allure for her father than any real life with his wife and child. She thought again that her mother was so in love with her father that she always overlooked most of his faults, even now, when she was so ill.
“He’ll . . . come . . . back,” her mother whispered.
Juliana said nothing but continued to hold her mother’s hand. The clock on the wall opposite her seemed to tick methodically like her slow heartbeats. She thought her mother was in a deep sleep when she suddenly stirred on her pillow.
“Don’t stay in the cabin after I’m gone. It’s too far from town for a young girl alone . . . It’s time for me to go. The angels are coming for me now . . .”
Juliana thought her heart would break. “Mama . . . no . . . please don’t leave me,” she pleaded. Blinding tears covered her face.
“I . . . love . . . you.” Her mother took one last deep breath and was silent.
Juliana flung herself across her mother’s chest and sobbed. She couldn’t bear the pain that tore through her heart. Why, God? Why did You have to take her? I never really had a father, and now You’ve taken my mother. In her anger, she pounded the edge of the mattress near her mother’s still arm, then dissolved once more into hoarse tears.
The gulf between her and her mother seemed to be growing by the second, and she thought wildly of an escaping balloon she’d seen once in town. How she had longed to follow it on its ascent, but it was gone in moments. Just like Mama, she thought, and the enormity of her loneliness felt like stones on her shoulders.
After what seemed a long time, Juliana heard the door open behind her. She lifted her head from her mother’s side, tears still streaming down her face, and saw Marion with the doctor. Marion reached out her hands and pulled Juliana into her arms.
“I’m so sorry, friend. Sooo sorry.” Marion stroked her hair. “I’ll help you take care of everything. Don’t you worry.”
When Juliana pulled away from Marion and lifted her eyes, she saw a stranger silhouetted in the doorway behind the doctor. His shadow fell across her face. She hadn’t noticed him enter the room.
He lifted his hat. “Miss, I’m really sorry about your mother.” He had a week’s worth of beard on his face and dark, sun-streaked hair. He wasn’t a large man, but somehow his presence filled the room the moment she heard him speak. His voice, a rich baritone, smooth as glass, resonated from deep within his thick chest.
“Juliana, this is Josh McBride, a sheepherder who works in the area. He’s the one who brought your mother in,” the doctor said in quiet tones. The man wasn’t much taller than she, but broad across the chest, which hinted at muscles underneath the plaid chambray shirt and tan leather vest.
Juliana murmured her thanks, though it was barely audible. Hazel eyes with a fleck of amber . . . Now where have I seen those before? His look conveyed that he understood her sorrow, and his kind eyes matched his gentle voice.
“I am very sorry, Miss . . .”
“Juliana Brady,” Marion answered for her. “And I’m Marion Stockton.”
“If there’s anything I can do . . .” He backed away toward the door, twisting his hat in his deeply tanned hands.
Juliana noticed that his hands were not large but were capable. Safe. Startled by her thoughts, she turned back to Marion. “What am I to do?”
Josh watched, feeling helpless as the sobs shook the girl’s slight frame. She wore a faded blue housedress, the hem sagging near the back. The sharp curve of her shoulders blades poked out when she leaned over to hold her face in her red, chapped hands. When she finally lifted her head, the square angle of her jaw seemed in sharp contrast to the woman he had just seen crying. I’ll bet underneath that exterior, she’s a fighter. Something in the way she held herself, chin up, and her direct eye contact when they were intr
oduced made him take notice. Her eyes were an odd blue with huge irises, and he could see himself reflected in them.
Dr. Barnum motioned to Josh and led him to the front door. They stepped out into the gathering dusk. Both men were quiet for a moment.
Gathering his thoughts, Josh thrust some bills into the doc’s hands. “Here, take this and see that the gal’s mother gets a decent burial. I’m just in town for a few days, so I don’t usually carry much cash.”
“I’m sure that will be a big help. From the looks of her, it doesn’t look like she’s had too many square meals.”
“Do you know her?” Josh conjured up the vision of the dark-haired girl. She was tall and slender, but not delicate. She had the most gorgeous eyes and high cheekbones.
“Not really. I heard she lived with her mother in a cabin on the edge of town. She takes in miners’ wash. Someone said her father, Davin, left for the gold mines in Colorado years ago and never returned.”
“Well, guess I’d better mosey on and take care of my horse for the night. I appreciate you doing what you could for her mother.
If there’s anything left over from the burial in what I gave you, just give it to the young lady. Maybe it’ll help.”
The two men shook hands and parted. Josh wondered if he’d see the young woman again. He knew he wanted to. But the question was, why? Was it her penetrating eyes that made contact with his soul? Come to think of it, they were the exact color of the cornflower blue stones that he’d fished out of the creek and now lay nestled in his vest pocket.
4
Grieving her mother, Juliana lay underneath a heavy quilt, her eyes tracing the wallpaper. The fancy print seemed elaborate after the simplicity of her cabin. She couldn’t be more grateful to Marion and her father for giving her a place to stay.
The Jewel of His Heart Page 2