“They are. Thank you so much.” Delighted by his gestures, she now knew he’d seen her from his window.
Dr. Graham soon took over when he saw John’s fatigue overcoming him. “I’ll push. You take it easy, John,” he told his friend in a somewhat commanding, yet friendly manner, making it apparent about his deep concern and loyalty to him. However, on the veranda, it was Dr. John who offered his hand to Rachael, helping her from the chair. Once inside, it was he who was genuinely surprised by the item which awaited him there. “What’s this?” he asked, as his staff also gathered around him.
“It’s a glass harmonica, John,” his cousin explained, while pulling on the tablecloth draped over the musical instrument, revealing its features and excellence. Everyone in the group had already seen it, of course, except for John and Rachael.
“It’s dazzling appearance and brilliant features astound me,” was their host’s reply.
“It’s for you, John, a welcome home gift from family and friends, to delight and lift your spirits,” Dr. Callahan declared. “Your Cousin Emery and Crane helped us remove it from Emery’s buckboard when he came in for the spyglasses.”
“Oh. Well, it certainly does just that, lift my spirits. Thank you. Please, you must all join me by bringing your harmonicas and guitars for a musical session soon. Monty, bring your zither, or whatever. We’ll have a merry time of it at our gatherings from now on, I dare say.”
“We always did, John. We always did,” Buddy reassured him.
“Music is healing. May I purchase a xylophone and be a part of it, as well?” asked Rachael.
“Absolutely, you must have a xylophone for your healing,” her employer agreed with a chuckle. “We can arrange it.”
At worship, the next morning, the group continued to enjoy music. The young nanny felt right at home, and Doctors Graham and Callahan did join them, as well as John’s parents, grandparents, Cousin Emery, Miss Worthington, and John’s staff. Rachael found she knew many of the songs sung and some of the people who’d come to the house offering their condolences or food. She also enjoyed the sermon about brotherly love and duty. Today, they hadn’t brought the wheelchair. Instead, John Davis had offered to steady her. “Or, perhaps we shall steady each other,” he remarked.
They were all quite surprised that he had gone over to ask the three campers to join them for the service. Being homesick, they had quickly agreed. Unfortunately, the Davis group never learned their names, though, because they quietly slipped out the chapel door as the choir sang their final song of the morning.
Afterward, the singers and church members surrounded the John Davis party to learn who the pretty, young nanny was, greeting her warmly. Rachael was quite thrilled to meet everyone, and complimented them on their singing, although she said she’d never remember all of their names. The good doctor was very patient, often just smiling, as they both shook hands with many, while heading toward the open door. Rachael was very glad that she’d remembered to wear her white gloves, since she did not wish to contract a germ to transmit to young Lily. Then, to her surprise, the first invitation came.
“Would you like to join us for choir practice on Wednesday, Miss Hathaway?” the parson’s wife, Emma Hoover, asked cheerily.
“Oh, I don’t believe I can carry a tune. I’m sorry,” the young nanny replied, smiling at the idea. Her heart just wasn’t into music right now. Perhaps after her ankle healed, she could join them.
“You don’t even have to sing, honey,” another lady named Aggie informed her. “You can just listen, if you wish. Tell us if we are on pitch or not,” she laughed jovially, and the others did, too.
“I’ll see. I will have to ask my employer for a ride, and little Lily may be returning home by then.” She glanced around the room to discover the doctor speaking with the beautiful widow Worthington. Her heart sank again, momentarily, for some unknown reason. Not wishing to disturb them, she turned toward the door once again, limping. Waving to Emma Hoover, she joined Miss Mariah and the others in their group, then studied the contents in her floral handbag while waiting for John.
Emma joined her. “We hope you’ll join us. It’s fun. You can bring Lily, too. Children love music, you know,” she trilled sweetly.
“Yes, we’ll see. She’s not yet home, though.”
“I know,” Mrs. Hoover whispered, sympathetically, taking the liberty of patting Rachael arm.
Rachael actually liked the idea, yet couldn’t promise to attend, since John wasn’t feeling well either. Just then, to her surprise, he appeared beside her, offering his arm. She happily accepted with a slight, silent nod, and this time she had butterflies in her stomach, a giddy feeling of belonging, friendship, acceptance, and happiness. She breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, as they stepped outside into the warm, springtime sunshine.
Children were laughing and playing, while their parents greeted one another, some making plans to meet later in the week. The rest of John’s group was waiting at their carriages. Together, John and the nanny went to meet them, as Rachael’s thoughts turned to the letter she would write home tonight, for there was much to tell. Happily, she suggested, “Let’s go back to Magnolia Gardens and make some music!”
John Davis had another idea. “Beforehand, we’ll go buy your xylophone. I spoke with the store clerk just now, and he’ll open the store for us.”
Suddenly, behind them, the choir caught their attention, giving them a wonderful, musical sendoff, by happily sweeping into a new song:
Yes, We Are Thankful
Yes, we are thankful, for all things large and small.
Yes, we are thankful, for every service call.
Yes, we are thankful, for your guiding way.
Yes, we are thankful, for each and every day.
Yes, we are thankful, for skies of blue or gray.
Yes, we are thankful, for sunshine’s warming ray.
Yes, we are thankful, you gave us family.
Yes, we are thankful, for arriving company.
Yes, we are thankful, for each child at our knee.
Yes, we are thankful, for the life you’ve given me.
Yes, we are thankful, for every sweet bird song.
Yes, we are thankful, for each fellowship throng.
Yes, we are thankful, for moving our steps along.
Yes, we are thankful, and hopeful to right each wrong.
Yes, we are thankful, for the path you offer all.
Yes, we are thankful, for all things large and small.
Chapter Seven
Glimpses of wildlife emerging from Black Woods, Echo Meadow, Daisy Hollow, and Merry Marsh, even some hurrying across Town Road in front of the carriage, entertained them on the drive home. Ducks, geese, woodpeckers, Great Blue Herons, calling seagulls, robins, and other birds took to flight from nearby wetlands and meadows, even though Rachael played notes from her new xylophone.
“Those grazing deer peering at us from the meadow grasslands are not afraid, are they? I believe they like your music.” John remarked, as a few of the species lifted their heads from the lush vegetation. At one place, a friendly dog joyfully hurried to escort them, running and jumping beside their carriage for a few paces. Then, he stopped. Barking gleefully, he turned back toward his own driveway and fruit farm. They laughed at his friendliness and protectiveness of his home place.
“I’m glad he didn’t follow us home,” Miss Callie laughed, and the others did, too.
“Monty would probably be taking him back home tonight for me,” John teased.
“Not me, John. That would fall squarely on the shoulders of the property owner – you,” he teased back. Everyone had a big chuckle over his comment, yet knew he was not serious, and would have helped.
“I’m happy enough with our Magnolia Gardens kitten,” Rachael told the group and several agreed. “We need to name her,” she told them.
“We all enjoy petting her and watching her eat, sleep, play, and grow,” informed John’s cook.
“Yes. Thank you for bringing her into our lives and giving her a good home,” Rachael thanked John.
“Well, it was the right thing to do, Rachael. A kitten is a lovely addition to our family, and all of you are taking very good care of her, with your love,” he explained. “Oh, by the way, Rachael, I found a source for water pumps during my trip.” She beamed at the news.
Shortly after arrival, lunch was set out on the dining table. Turkey sandwiches, spring-garden-greens salad, apple wedges, custard, and pickles, of course, awaited their approval, along with tea and Almond Cookies.
During lunch, Rachael smiled warmly at memories she had made today, pleased at making new acquaintances, although she noticed that the physician was pensive. Sympathy engulfed her, and she knew he must be thinking of his young daughter, or perhaps his injury, or his late wife. John was probably wishing for Lily’s return, or Rose’s. Did he still have fever, she wondered? For a moment she thought of placing a hand upon his arm or forehead to check, yet dared not do it in this company. It was not her place to do so just now.
All at once, he became talkative, informing her of his newest plans. It was almost as if he had read her mind. “Rachael, I’ve decided to bring Lily home tomorrow. I miss her and I’ve changed my meeting to Tuesday. It will be about the horse race which we host here annually. Crane, Monty, Cousin Emery, and Buddy Callahan will be on board for that one. I’ve informed them of the change from Monday to Tuesday, because I miss my daughter so much and wanted to bring her home before we start making plans. If you would like to attend that meeting, you may, if you won’t be too bored. After that, I will meet with you for a time, so that you and I might discuss something more to your liking. That is the Magnolia Gardens Tour, a fundraiser we generally host twice a year. That is, we did so in the past. We may include it the day of the race. I’ll leave it to you afterward to inform Miss Callie and Miss Mariah of our decisions, choices of food, tea, and entertainment. Perhaps we’ll have mandolin music, or your xylophone.”
“Oh, no, I could not possibly play my xylophone,” she laughed. “Yet, I am very enthused at being included and informed,” she related. “I will enjoy those meetings, but I shall also want to join you to pick up your daughter from her grandparents tomorrow, if that is acceptable with you, sir. I can hardly wait.”
His nanny’s face fairly beamed with excitement, as did her voice, he noted. However, his demeanor clouded. “It’s John, and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
This took her by surprise and she truly wished that they were alone, not discussing this in front of everyone. “I see. Well, I am her nanny. Shouldn’t my duties begin immediately when …”
He cut her off abruptly to explain. “I first have to deal with …” His voice then trailed off as he rose and held out his hand to her. “I believe we should discuss this in private, on the veranda. Please excuse us everyone.”
Rachael welcomed the fact that she was expected to join John. She smiled and placed her napkin alongside her plate. “Excuse me, please,” she addressed anyone who might be listening. Yet, they all seemed to be discreetly absorbed in entertaining each other, so as not to embarrass her, perhaps. So, she now did have the opportunity she wished for moments ago. Taking John’s arm made her feel just wonderful. Together, they tried to ignore Monty’s continued speech about Washington and Buddy’s new idea, as they moved toward the door.
“Emery and I are thinking of going to work on the Snagpuller North, John,” they heard Dr. Buddy Callahan announce, to the surprise of the other guests gathered. “It would be another source of income for me.”
“What is the Snagpuller North, Dr. Callahan?” Rachael asked, as she stopped abruptly and turned back to face the group, intrigued. She could not resist asking and waiting for his explanation.
“It’s an important vessel on the channel, which clears the way of snags, downed trees, and river debris. Essentially, it keeps waterways clear and open for ships, including barges and steamboats, so they won’t be damaged, catch fire, or sink” Buddy explained. “It’s a tedious task at times, I’ve heard. Yet, I’m willing to take it on.”
“What a noble cause. Isn’t it a little dangerous, though?” asked Miss Callie, with noted concern.
John and Rachael didn’t wait to hear his answer. Instead, they made their way onto the terrace, where they stood, enjoying the fresh air, plant life, and vines gently swaying on a slight, spring breeze.
“Seeing Rose’s parents for the first time may be difficult,” John began, his voice trailing off, as he studied some distant vista, without looking at Rachael.
“I understand perfectly.” She now took the liberty of touching his forehead. “You have no fever.”
He continued. “I have to deal with our grief, plus meet Lily all over again. I was able to make it home for only a short time after her birth, and then one Christmas. We have not had much time together yet.”
Rachael tried to be merry, to ease his pain. “I shall be readying Lily’s room then, and her things, while you’re gone, sir,” she informed him, realizing his position entirely. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep busy. I wish to work with you, not against you,” she informed her employer, trying to be understanding of his feelings. Gazing up at him, she was going to ask if he wanted to sit and rest his leg. Instead, he spoke.
“Will you join me for a walk in the gardens, Rachael, a short one?” he asked, his tone turning from employer to a friend, almost imploring her. “I want to spend a few moments with you, away from the others. If you tire, we shall return to the chairs on the veranda. Please excuse my cane, though.”
His invitation surprised her, as well as his use of her first name again. She sensed that she was needed for some reason or instructions. “Yes, of course I will walk with you. I welcome the opportunity.”
“I can send for your wheelchair if need be,” he told her, while offering his hand.
She took his hand, wishing to walk beside him, saying, “No wheelchair is needed,” even if she was limping somewhat, again. A pleasant walk ensued. He pointed out buds and blooms, floral designs, and repeated patterns in his gardens, all of which were of great interest to her. She happily spoke of similar flowers found at her farm home, and about wildflowers sprinkled within the Bower Farm fields.
“Surprisingly, our color schemes are very similar. We like pastels, too. Many wildflowers grow in and around the fields and meadows on our place, and the wildlife loves them. We often find pheasant eggs nestled in nests amongst the bachelor buttons and tall grasses, during our walks to bring in the cows. So, the colors go on endlessly, into the meadows and Poplar Woods,” she explained with a smile. He smiled, too, a relief to her. “I believe my favorites are the bachelor buttons, although I love wild iris, too. They appear in many vivid colors. Every year, we save seeds to sprinkle along roadsides and to plant in our gardens. That seems to work well for propagating. Other flowers are planted in rows at home.”
“I see. Then, can I call you our resident botanist?” he asked, playfully
“I’d prefer biologist, please,” she countered. “I enjoy studying both plants and animals, John. I like anything to do with living organisms. Actually, I also prefer archaeology, ancient people, and things.”
He grinned and glanced toward his pond not far from them. “I know what archaeology is, Rachael. Shall I let you in on a little Magnolia Gardens secret?”
“By all means, do, for I love secrets.” Her voice took on an excited tone as she turned to gaze into his eyes again, wanting to see if he was actually serious. He was, except in another, unexpected way. As her arm wrapped around his for support, she drew closer. They began cozily strolling. “What is this secret you have to tell me?” Gazing at the panoramic view ahead, she was surprised when he stopped abruptly.
He di
d tell her. “I do not intend to remain a bachelor or widower for the rest of my life, Rachael.” He seemed to be studying the pond waters and surrounding soil.
She inhaled a deep breath, shaken by his revelation. Words failed her. They walked a few more paces before stopping once more at a delightful circular garden bed, bordered by white alyssum.
“I call this garden ‘The Ring,’” he explained, waiting for her reaction. Before them was a beautiful circle of rose-colored godetia, where butterflies gathered nectar. “This entire area, I call Butterfly Rest. They seem to like the evergreens, edelweiss, campanula, pink delphiniums, butterfly flowers, and sweet peas planted here. Please remind me to show my butterfly haven to the boys.”
The young nanny was speechless at its beauty for a few moments. “Your ring garden is just lovely. It leads me to believe that when you wed the beautiful widow, Amber Worthington, I shall lose my job and return home to plant flowers such as these. But Daddy and my brother will be home by then, anyway, and that’s my ring, a close family circle,” she explained. Then she sighed, knowing she should be very excited by that prospect. In fact, it could not occur soon enough to suit her. “I miss them dreadfully, and can hardly wait to visit them or return home. It will probably happen very soon, our reunion, that is.”
He turned to her. “That is not my plan, Rachael,” he whispered, intriguingly. Yet, before he could explain further, a smiling Lieutenant Monty Graham arrived to join them. He scared some quail in the field beyond the pond into short flights. Then, the trio focused on other fliers. Watching the dragonflies of Dragonfly Pond made them certain they would soon fly to their own missions.
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