Sanctuary

by Alene Adele Roy

  “I just came in from the garden and thought you might not be able to come downstairs for dinner, so perhaps these flowers might cheer you. They’re some of my favorites, pink carnations and rosebuds with alyssum tendrils.”

  She let him in and he promptly went to set the vase upon the lace-skirted table in front of the large window overlooking the drive and its entry gardens. “They’re so lovely and they smell heavenly, too,” she exclaimed. “Thank you so very much. I do appreciate the welcoming gesture, but you shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, you don’t have to, you know, come down for dinner. You may certainly receive a dinner tray up here in the comfort of your room, or come down if you wish. At least, I do hope that your room is comfortable.” He seemed to be stumbling for the right words again.

  Rachael smiled at his genuine efforts. “Who will be joining you?” she asked, as he turned and limped to exit. Sympathy for him suddenly engulfed her, as Rachael realized that she was quickly learning some of the secrets of Magnolia Gardens, and who, or more correctly, what would certainly not be here tonight ~ his horses. She already knew the secret of the missing horses.

  “I am afraid it will just be you and I. A friend, Mrs. Hoover, brought a dinner dish by, and some muffins, and preserves, which was very thoughtful of her,” he explained, one hand upon the door knob. “I would have introduced you to Emma and the children, yet, there will be time for that later. Their twins, Minnie and Quinny, play with Lily, at times. Oh, by the way, it will be our cook’s night off. So, Miss Callie, Miss Mariah, and Crane usually eat together in the kitchen on those days,” he informed her. “That’s what she prefers. It usually left Rose and I, and guests, if we had guests, to dine together. Rose was my wife.”

  “It was very thoughtful of your friends to bring food,” she warmly stated, and she meant it. “You have wonderful friends, and I love muffins! It was also very nice of you to bring me the flowers.”

  “Oh, I love muffins, too.” He grinned. Then, he paused. “Miss Hathaway, I did not mean to imply that ‘I’m afraid,’” he continued, trying further to explain the beginning of his previous comment.

  She grew tired, glanced at her bed, and sighed. “I understand, sir.”

  “I’m keeping you.”

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked, interested in his train of thought, although she didn’t follow it.

  She already knew the secret of the missing horses.

  “I mean, I’m keeping you from resting. I don’t mean to do so. Perhaps you should sit down. Oh, and I have this for you. I nearly forgot.” He handed her a letter. “It came today.”

  “Oh? Yes, I shall sit.” She moved to the window chair and pulled a white quilt over her tired legs. “I can’t believe I’ve received a letter already. I wonder who it’s from.”

  He moved closer, interrupting her thoughts again. “What I meant to say, Miss Hathaway, was that Lily won’t be here for some weeks.” He spoke quietly, almost tenderly or timidly. “The house shall remain quiet while she is at her grandparents. I do not intend to invite or entertain guests at this time. It will give you a chance to rest.”

  “I understand. Oh, it’s from my cousin.” She knew that his plan for quiet was also appropriate for his mourning time. “Us, it will give us a chance to rest, doctor,” she quickly corrected, laughing and gesturing toward her ankle and his leg with her letter. But afterwards, she thought better of it and hoped that she had not offended him. “Rest shall give us both a better chance to heal.” She was so anxious to read the contents of the message she held, and earnestly wished he’d just go and leave her to peruse its words and content.

  “I quite agree. Then, perhaps I shall see you at dinner.”

  “I’ll ponder it and let you know,” she boldly explained, closing her eyes, not even watching him return to the door this time. “I’m afraid my boldness of answer was brought on only by my fatigue, sir.”

  “I understand. As you wish, Miss Hathaway. Get some rest before you decide.” He smiled and lingered, hand on the knob. “I’m hoping you will soon feel at home here. That is my fondest wish, and I do hope you’ll join me for dinner. Someone will check on you and assist you downstairs, if you wish.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, while watching him leave her room to enter the upper hallway. Surprisingly, and within moments, as she quickly opened the welcome envelope surrounding the correspondence, she could hardly wait to engage in conversation with Dr. John Davis at dinner this evening, because he suddenly burst into song:

  The Theme From Magnolia Gardens

  Magnolia Gardens, my heart is here,

  No matter what the time of year,

  Because sweet memories made near,

  Bring smiles and hope, a sense of cheer.

  Here birdsong graces each new day,

  To help us chase the blues away.

  Dreams can come true, I always say.

  Sanctuary is here to stay.

  Work this land offers is for good.

  Here I have found and understood,

  Following parent footsteps could,

  Make them proud as I surely should.

  So, strength I summon from this place,

  Which slows my heart from its fast pace,

  And gives guidance, more than a trace,

  For a sure smile upon this face.

  A sense of peace and trust I’ve found,

  Like dragonflies soaring without sound,

  High above gardens, pond, and ground;

  To Magnolia Gardens we are bound.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Dear Cousin Rachael,

  I sincerely hope this message finds you well and greatly enjoying your new circumstances. I was so surprised and dismayed to learn that you had taken leave so quickly without telling me, and that you had accepted employment so far away from us. It grieves my heart and soul to know that I may not drop in to check on you at a moment’s notice, and that I may only surmise that all is well with you, which I believe to be my utmost urgent family responsibility, especially with your father and Robert away for now.

  So, my great disappointment can only be eased by a letter from you stating that things are good and right, and that I can expect to hear from you promptly and often regarding this matter. My parents send their deepest love, too. Please let me know when I may visit Magnolia Gardens to see for myself that you are being treated ever so kindly? If not, I shall come to accompany you home at once.

  With Affection,

  Your Favorite Cousin, (I’m assuming) Wren Hathaway

  P.S. Please respond in writing immediately about your good health and well being, so that my mind may be eased, temporarily at least, until I can visit you to verify that fact for myself and the rest of our family. I’ll expect your reply post haste. W. H.’

  Rachael laughed openly and happily at both the strict sentiment and the signature, for she missed Wren desperately, too, as well as everyone else, and regretted that she had not had time to speak to him of this new development or ask for his sage advice regarding it, as she had done in so many other matters in the past. “Oh, if he might really come to check on me, it would greatly ease my mind and cares,” she whispered to herself, while carefully moving to her trunk to tuck in his letter and retrieve the ink well and a favorite quill pen.

  ‘Dear Cousin Wren,

  I so happily received and read your missive just this moment and am preparing to give you all of the details so that your questions may be answered and your mind set at ease. I arrived in sunshine, tired, and promptly fell down a few steps to sprain my ankle, which somewhat pains and hinders me. However, my duties have not yet begun, since my charge is not here yet, having lost her mother. For a time, she is being consoled by her loving grandparents.

  So, do come to see me any time you wish, for I would greatly welcome your visit. Everyone here seem
s so pleasant, and I have met Mr. Davis’ staff and some of his friends. Actually, he’s a doctor. Magnolia Gardens are lovely, what I’ve seen of them, and there are a few secrets lingering here ~ stolen horses, missing cargo from Spice Dock, my employer is wounded, and he is also a widower, (both of which I did not know prior to coming here) and a surprise gift is awaiting him from loving family and friends, in order to boost his morale. This item, I cannot wait to see, and cannot possibly even imagine what it might be. I also wonder how the other mysteries will unfold. If the truth be known, I am intrigued by it all.

  I plan to dedicate myself to earning money by working here for awhile, so that I might return home and use those funds wisely, for a future investment, or some such thing. Meanwhile, I shall gain child care experience to back me up for my next employment selection, if I so choose to continue as a nanny, which I may not.

  As Always,

  With Love & Respect,

  Your Cousin, Rachael Hathaway

  P.S. You know very well that you are my favorite, yet do not dare to speak of it to the others, please, except to tell them that I miss them and I do hope that each and every one will be sure to write to me in the near future. Oh, and I forgot to tell you this, that my employer is a singer, of some quality, I might add. Unbeknownst to him, I overheard Dr. Davis singing a song titled: “Magnolia Gardens,” a sentiment about his home place.

  Rachael was not the only one receiving a message this afternoon. The telegraph, a reliable device invented by Samuel F. B. Morse in 1832, magically improving communications, was making it possible for an intriguing telegram to arrive for Dr. John Davis at this very moment. He accepted the message from his butler with a puzzled look upon his face, hobbled into his library, and placed his leg upon the leather ottoman before reading the short message. Contemplative after doing so, he pondered the announcement of an impending guest arrival and possible mission. Oh, he was happy enough about Monty’s upcoming visit. It’s just that the timing was not the best. Word was he would be arriving this afternoon and possibly joining them for dinner this evening and a brief stay, just after John had informed Miss Hathaway that he wouldn’t be entertaining guests for awhile, that the household would remain quiet for a time.

  Well, Monty is quiet, he thought to himself. Yet, perhaps I should alert Lily’s nanny about this new development of a guest, or maybe I should not. Should I let it be a surprise, since she might not join us for dinner otherwise, or should I inform her of this unexpected guest arrival? Should I do that myself or send a message through Miss Mariah or Crane, he wondered? He wasn’t quite sure what the appropriate etiquette was in dealing with this young woman he’d hired, especially since she was injured now, and Lily was away. He wanted to be considerate, sensitive to her needs. Certainly, one of those was rest.

  But what was this mission Monty had hinted of in his telegram? Will it take me away again so soon, or is it something I can accomplish from here? Time will tell me. But, I wish my friend had been more specific and not quite so mysterious in his message, and that he had given me some idea as to what was to come, because if travel is involved, I am not certain that it can be undertaken at this particular time.

  “I’ll take that up,” he instructed Crane, when he entered the lower hallway and saw a tray with a water pitcher, glass, apple and cheese slices, wafers, and a small vase of white daisies on his butler’s arm, obviously intended for Miss Hathaway. John had tossed the telegram from the lieutenant onto his desk, completely forgetting about the other message which had been placed there previously. He had decided to inform the nanny of the impending visitor, so she could readily choose to join them or not. It was the only fair way to deal with the situation. On the way, he stopped by his room for a gift item for her, as well.

  Expertly juggling everything, he gently tapped upon her door, although he hated to disturb her. Still, he felt the need. Within moments, she opened her door.

  “Mr. Davis, what a pleasant surprise.” She was polite, yet it was difficult for her to keep from laughing, because who else would it be?

  She looks refreshed, he thought to himself. The rest must have done her some good. “I did not mean to wake you. But I wanted to let you know that a guest may be arriving for dinner. I also had this for you.” He handed her a wicker bound glass tray with wicker handles. It had lovely, large pink and red roses painted upon it, under a glass overlay. “It’s for your window table, or anywhere. You may wish to place your tea cup, water pitcher, or flower vase upon it,” he said smoothly. “Really, use it however you wish.”

  “Thank you so very much. It’s lovely. Do come in.”

  “I shall do just that,” he quipped, glancing toward the table near the large window where he would place the items.

  “I love the view from there into the gardens. Thank you for planting posies below.”

  Since he had his hands full and needed to set the items down, he hurried to do so. Next, he lingered there, while glancing down to see those very gardens. “I believe they need some work, more color, perhaps. I might do well to ask your advice about that. Oh, and these daisies are from Crane.”

  “That is so nice of you both,” she gushed. “Please thank Crane, too, for this makes me feel as welcome as a candy on Christmas morning. May I ask what is the occasion?”

  “We just wanted you to have fresh water for this afternoon and a taste of a snack from Miss Callie’s kitchen,” he informed her.

  “Thank you. I have found myself thirsty this afternoon,” she admitted.

  “Miss Callie’s wafers are the best.”

  “I’m sure they are.” She lifted the white linen napkin covering them, took one, tasted it, and offered one to him.

  Surprisingly, he accepted. “I also wanted to tell you of a telegram which just arrived from my friend, Lieutenant Monty Graham, informing me that he will be in the area soon and is coming to visit for a few days. It appears that he has some news he will bring me in person. So, I’m quite anxious to see him and learn of his tidings. He was one of the first to see me in the hospital, an old friend. He accompanied me home. When I stopped by your place to ask for a new hire, he was briefly visiting a nearby friend. Miss Hathaway, at that time I did not know of my wife’s untimely death. I only wished to give her some free time to rest for a year or more by hiring a nanny for Lily at my arrival.”

  “I see.” Silently, she was sympathetic, and grateful that he had given her the facts. “I’m so sorry.”

  He changed the subject. “You’ll like Monty. He’s a very kind and considerate man.”

  She brushed aside his comment, as she finished the wafer and changed the subject herself, after remembering her own culinary experiences. “My baking is not half bad, either, I must say.” She threw that comment at him so that he would surely know that she did have some other skills.

  “I would certainly have to agree after sampling your cinnamon rolls, and would delight in tasting some of your other offerings, one day, Miss Hathaway.”

  “Please arrange that with Miss Callie, so that I may enter her domain.”

  “I shall do that very thing,” he returned politely. “I think we should dine at half past five, and I hope you will join us. I mean me, in case Monty has not arrived by dinnertime. There will be pickles,” he added, grinning, hoping his comment would lighten the mood and message about Rose and of an impending guest, which may have disturbed the young woman.

  Rachael laughed openly at the word ‘pickles’ and pressed her lips together tightly, so as not to be considered rude. “I shall plan on it, Dr. Davis,” she agreed, smiling warmly. “I truly appreciate your sense of humor, and I can hardly wait for the pickle test again, so that I might compare yours to ours for a second time. Do you grow cucumbers?”

  “Yes, we do. In fact, some seeds have already germinated and are above soil, thanks to my father, Crane, and grandfathers.” To him, her smile lit the entire room. It suddenly tr
ansfixed him, refreshing him, causing John to forget pain for a few moments. Why, she had even made him think of the gardens, and laugh. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it of some cobwebs or memories of sorts. He was not exactly sure what. But he was pleased with her laughter and that she felt up to eating in the dining room with him tonight. Her unique conversation would be welcome.

  To her, his smile was sincere. His humor made her think of family and friends, teasing, and of all things, pickles. “We’ll plant ours in May. Well, I may not do so this year.”

  “As I said previously, someone will be up to help you maneuver the stairs, Miss Hathaway.” He turned to go, but stopped. “You haven’t forgotten our date for a reading session this evening, have you?” he asked, with a certain book in mind.

  “Oh, no, of course I haven’t. I am greatly looking forward to it. You can’t imagine how much that makes me feel right at home here, since we used to read aloud of an evening at Bower Farm,” she explained, knowing full well she was repeating herself. “We’d laugh, sew, write, churn the butter, crack filberts or walnuts, shell peas, or snap beans.”

  “Good. Oh, I didn’t exactly mean a ‘date,’ Miss Hathaway. What I meant to convey was a time, and that by eating early we would certainly have ample time to fit in a fireside reading after dinner before dark. That way, you could still be in bed early enough to rest your injured foot. I’m sincerely sorry that you fell.”

  “It was my fault entirely, and I know what you meant, sir,” she chuckled. “Thank you very much for explaining it, though.”

  “Please don’t call me ‘sir,’” he informed her, politely. “It’s much too formal. I’m not used to it.”