Sanctuary

by Alene Adele Roy

  “The mystery is solved, for they are to be red,” Rachael quickly announced, giving everyone a clue to the season of her wedding. “You may borrow them, Aggie,” she teased.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhh!” Aggie and Emma both responded, knowing full well from previous wedding planning that Rachael’s secret clue meant a holiday season wedding was in the planning stages.

  “Mercy, I won’t need bows for a long time,” Aggie asserted.

  This was another one of Rachael’s dreams which would be coming true sooner than she expected, hopefully, ~ a wedding. Her thoughts drifted to what her dress would look like with its white lace trim, how many and who should become her bridesmaids, and just where she and John might venture on their honeymoon journey.

  “Look out, everyone! We’re about to shake the trees!” Emery called from high upon his ladder.

  “I’m ready over here!” Lieutenant Graham replied from another tall ladder in the next tree.

  A rustling of leaves, the sound of bouncing cherries hitting the ground, and the voices of delighted children filled the air that summer day, as those ripe cherries were harvested. This pleasant gleaning work further bonded the group of friends. Rachael smiled happily, especially while watching Aggie and Buddy together. She was very glad that she had introduced them that enchanted evening.

  “Right now I’m day dreaming about a cherry pie with its melt in your mouth crust someone will so generously bake for me,” Emery called from his precarious perch, satisfied that he’d downed the majority of the remaining cherries in his chosen tree. Several women cautioned him not to fall or he’d break something.

  “I can arrange a pie, Emery,” Amber responded, not caring who learned of her fondness for him.

  “This is nearly a cherry social,” commented Viola. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she attested.

  Antonio Bradshaw smiled up at her. “There is much to see and do in this region, Miss Hathaway.”

  That was all it took, the mention of a social, and plans began for a cherry social in the village.

  “I’ll gather eggs for the pie crust!” Phoebe announced, causing a great stir of laughter.

  “Honey, I don’t believe there is an egg in pie crust,” remarked Robin Bradshaw, with a grin.

  “That’s okay, sweetie. We’ll teach you how to make cherry pie and crust, too,” Aggie offered.

  “There’s nothing to it, Phoebe darling, except that we have to pit these beauties,” Monty advised, surprising everyone with his enduring term of ‘darling,’ which she seemed to relish.

  Some pickers then began a rousing rendition of a long established Velvet Villa Village tune, created especially for cherry picking time. Happily, those who knew it taught the newcomers and guests the lyrics, as they enthusiastically sang:

  The Cheery Cherry Picking Song

  We’re cheery, cherry picking,

  Cheery, cherry picking.

  Then, we can make jams and jellies.

  We can bake some sweet cherry pie,

  After we’ve been cheery, cherry picking,

  Under a clear, blue summer sky.

  We’ll fill some buckets for market,

  And then a pail for you and I.

  It’s as easy as it can be.

  You just have to give it a try.

  Now, don’t fall off that ladder there,

  And end up with a big, black eye.

  Let’s shake the tree a little now,

  But don’t you ask me how or why,

  Because we’ll pick them from the ground ~

  The easy way; give it a try.

  We’ll scoop, load, sing, and have some fun,

  Day dreaming of cheery, cherry pie!

  (Repeat the first verse)

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “John, when Emma called, ‘Here’s a quail nest!’ the circle of friends quickly gathered around her, as she pointed it out to us. It contained a clutch of beautiful eggs, like the ones I’ve seen in field nests since childhood. Daddy would point them out to Viola, Phoebe, and I, as we walked the cow paths with him in search of pastel bachelor buttons, when bringing in the cows for milking. I remember those times, fondly. Anyway, each of the cherry pickers at Ancient Orchard went silent, even the children, absorbed in their own thoughts about nature, I presume,” Rachael explained to John upon her return to the castle.

  “Nice,” he quietly replied. She could tell his spirits were in need of a lift. What could she say?

  “We explored The Ancient Orchard briefly. Then, as we prepared to leave, several people marveled at how much fun they’d had. Viola happened to remark that it was a wonderful experience, as she straightened her sun bonnet, and the next thing we knew, Amber said she couldn’t wait until the ‘Cherry Pie Social.’ Can you even imagine such an unfolding chain of events? Does Velvet Villa Village ever have a cherry pie social?”

  “No.”

  “Several admitted that they could hardly wait until Cousin Emery’s Corn Maze was mature enough for us to wander in and possibly get lost in, come September or October. Buddy then informed us that he also has one near a marsh on his property. We may even see some dragonflies there. Oh, it was a lively day, John. We gathered many buckets for charity and the markets, with plenty for ourselves, too.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ll wash some and bring them up to you, or do you wish to rest?”

  “Continue,” was his polite request.

  His one word remarks made him seem to sound weak to her. “Buddy mentioned seeing huge blue catfish in Blue Slough, while on the Snagpuller North, again, and then, my usually quiet brother, Robert, said he could hardly wait to fish for them.”

  “Naturally,” he replied, understanding the fisherman’s point of view.

  She sat there on the edge of his bed for a few moments, a picture of poise and calmness, pondering before continuing. Drawing a deep breath for patience, she explained, “Your Cousin Emery invited him along.” When he said nothing, she continued. “With a great deal of enthusiasm, Robert accepted, for a joyful resolution of the matter. They’ll go soon.”

  “Good.”

  “I was so glad I joined that Ancient Orchard expedition for the gleaning of the cherries, instead of waiting until next year, John. They’re so delicious, and the group was, too. Even the choir came out and we all learned to sing the cherry picking song. Do you know of it?”

  “Yes.”

  “That music greatly enhanced the day and gave us soaring spirits. It made the time pass, oh, so quickly.”

  “It’s an old favorite from our grammar school days. I’m glad you learned it, and that it made your day better.” He now changed the subject. “Rachael, I want you to draw me a map. I, or we, are going to hide the items given to me by Antonio Bradshaw until I can decide exactly what to do with them, for I may sell them at some future point in time.”

  “What?” Now it was her turn to utter a single word in reply, for she was shocked by his proposal.

  “I don’t know how long I have to live, Rachael, since my wound is not healing well, and I want you to have those items if I should perish. I want only you to know where they are.”

  “Nonsense!” was her immediate response.

  “Please, draw a map. I’ll help you, since you don’t know the landmarks as well as I do.”

  “John, my darling, I have news for you. I’ve had two signs recently ~ one of renewal at the wedding, and another about missions, in Ancient Orchard, your missions. Yet, I shall draw your map for you.”

  “Astounding.”

  “Yes. It’s quite true. The flower seeds given to guests at Crane and Mariah’s wedding, to me, represented a renewal, restoring of beautiful gardens, growth, and healing, yours. Everyone was thrilled with them.” She dipped into her pocket. “Secondly, this arrowhead of stone or bone was found when Robert dug
for fishing worms near the cherry trees. It represents your mission to stock your museum, just as Robert stocks markets and kitchens with his fish, and arrowheads stocked ancient camps with bison and buffalo many moons ago, in ancient times. I gave it to Chief Morning Star on my way home when he inquired about your condition. But he returned it, saying, ‘You will find a use for it, Miss Hathaway,’ and I have. It’s for you. Let it be the next display in your Museum Of Ancients, right next to the dragonfly fossil and the other pieces you have found.”

  “How wonderful you are, and I like that name for our museum.” His lips quivered with emotion.

  “Now, I am going to be even more than wonderful. I am going to be firm, John. I’ll give you an orange a day, mint tea, and use Aloe Vera on your leg wound, and it shall heal. My Grandmother Rachael taught me this as a child, and it works.” She waited for his reply or opposition. There was none. Stepping to a window overlooking the Indigo Gardens Race Path and fields beyond, she pondered whether to leave him right now to go shop for the oranges and aloe plant, or not, since he was in a depressed frame of mind.

  Suddenly, she spotted a bird gracefully gliding from Black Woods into a tall hayfield. Quickly, she grabbed his field glasses from the dresser and peered at the lovely flyer, which was settling near its nest. “John, you must come to view this. It’s an American robin coming to its nest of robin egg blue eggs in a mud base. It lies at the edge of the field instead of in a tree. That’s odd. This sight will make your spirits soar.”

  He responded favorably. Grabbing the cane from his headboard, he began to lift from his bed to oblige her. Rachael came to assist him on the opposite side. “Did you know they also use moss, grass, tree bark, twigs, and pine needles to build their nests?” he asked. “Their eggs incubate from eight to seventeen days and then the little fledglings fly eight to nineteen days after that. They eat bugs and worms. The parents both search and supply food for the young robins or batch. Later, in the summer, they have a second brood or family.”

  I must get him out of bed more often, she thought. This exertion is good for his blood circulation, breathing, and morale. It was good medicine, Rachael knew. “You must have studied robins for awhile. What field is that, John?” she asked, as he settled into a chair to spy upon the bird on its nest through his glasses. “Do your grandparents own it?”

  “Yes. It’s North Field, site of our annual holiday sleigh races. You’ll love that.” He was enthused to inform her of it.

  That afternoon, she asked Viola and Antonio to accompany her to the village for Aloe Vera and oranges. Gladly, they accepted the challenge of finding the plant and fruit to help John. Surprisingly, during the trip to town, Antonio informed the sisters that he knew exactly where to find an aloe. “It’s waiting for us at The Market On The Main. They’re a good plant to have on hand,” he advised, upon entering the village. A short time later, their escort purposely took the two sisters past the fishing tackle display on their way to procure the produce and the plant.

  “Oh, may I just select a couple of these angling supplies very quickly for Robert’s tackle box?” Rachael asked, on their way by the items. “I want to put them away for his birthday and Christmas stocking while I have access to them.”

  “Perhaps, the plant liquid will heal John,” Rachael heard Viola whisper skeptically to Mr. Bradshaw, after their return to the castle.

  Rachael wanted to assure her by saying, “It will,” yet, ascended the stairway instead. So, she was gratified to hear Mr. Bradshaw say, just before he was about to leave for the day, “I certainly hope so. Wait and see, but I believe he will respond well to it. May I see you tomorrow?” the gentleman asked Viola.

  “Yes, you may,” she politely accepted.

  Rachael knew her sister was wondering just where this unexpected, new friendship was headed. Would it lead to a courtship, or would Viola return home to find another love, Rachael wondered? Faithfully, John’s future fianceé tended his wound, applying the cool liquid from the medicinal plant several times each day, alternating with medicine the other doctors prescribed. She also gave an orange.

  To further his healing, Hattie and John gladly agreed to a Father’s Day dinner at their home, as prescribed by Pastor Hoover. Although the gathering was not small, it was quiet. Even little Lily was well behaved that day, soothing her father’s spirits. In pairs, the other family members and friends visited John. Robert and Robin accepted an invitation to visit and dine, although Antonio Bradshaw politely declined, stating that the visit and day should belong to close family members only, much to Viola’s dismay.

  Everyone was delighted when Wren and Swan came unexpectedly, though, to nurture Rachael and John. They brought venison steaks, fresh lettuce and carrots, plus brownies. Soft slipper socks Swan had made for the pair were another welcome surprise, with Wren advising that “You both surely need to rest your weary feet.” They were quickly asked to stay overnight, and enjoyed a quiet evening of conversation, marbles, and a garden tour with the Hathaway sisters, and Grandfather Davis as their guide. The group hung on Wren’s every word as he spoke of his newest mystery ~ a wooden chest with inlaid woods, which mysteriously appeared at his workplace. “It has not sold yet, so I am thinking of purchasing it, myself.”

  Shortly after the happy Father’s Day, John’s pain and inflammation began to diminish. Not surprisingly, these things lifted his spirits. After a time, he was able to rise, dress, and walk the hall with Rachael, using his cane. It was during one of those walks that Rachael informed him about enlisting the help of Jay, Jason, and Joshua to drill her first well, since they had offered. “They responded to our newspaper article. So, the paper has helped me in return.”

  “Wonderful!” he exclaimed, as more words came back into his vocabulary and life, while pain lessened. “I’m so glad you are following up on your set mission, dear one. Where will it be drilled?”

  Rachael was certain that John would not need an amputation now, and was ever so grateful. “I asked Pastor Hoover to check the water needs in our community and he has found an area near where Chief Morning Star lives. Antonio Bradshaw witched it for us and found a suitable site. Many will have access to it there.”

  “It comes at a good time with no rainfall as of late. So, it would seem that I’ve missed a great deal. Yet, I’m grateful you had help. When will Jay, Jason, and what was his name, report back to you?”

  “His name is Joshua. Monty sent a telegram to a well driller near Fernhaven for me. He responded and will supervise, provide instruction, and tools for the project. We aren’t sure how deep they will have to drill. Still, it should occur within days. I’m very excited about it, John, and the three soldiers will learn a new profession.”

  “I am, too, Rachael.” He kissed her hand. “How very brave of you to carry forth with your plan.”

  “Now, let’s plan our wedding, John.” She would continue to encourage and enlighten him daily, hoping to speed his recovery even more quickly with water well drilling reports, nature sightings, and wedding plans.

  But first, today, he felt he had a confession to make. “Rachael, let’s sit here. I have something to tell you.”

  Settling on a wicker settee in the hallway, they held hands. She waited patiently for him to speak, noting a look of concern upon his handsome face. She felt his head for fever. “There is no fever.” A thrill of happiness quickly engulfed her at that positive sign of his healing. He would recover. She was certain of that now.

  “This is not about my fever. Instead, I do have to proclaim and inform you that I was not wounded, Rachael. Well, I was, in a manner of speaking. After a loud sound, possibly a shot fired, I was startled and fell upon a sharp boulder. It tore my leg.” For now, though, he fell silent.

  “So? It does not make one bit of difference to me how you sustained your wound, John, only that you are miraculously getting well,” she explained to him in her quiet, sweet, reassuring manner.

/>   “I mean, I don’t know how it was written down that I was hit.” His voice trailed off and he looked away from his future bride, sad, as if ashamed.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, John. Do not dwell upon this, dear. Instead, be hopeful. Think of what you’ll wear at our wedding. Think of Lily and how much she loves you and delights in being with you. Think of the miracle of your horses coming home to you, just as we prayed for, just exactly like we always knew they would. Ponder your mission to have a museum. Think of me. Oh, do hurry and get well so we can marry well at our beautiful wedding.”

  He took her into his arms. Ever so sweetly and gently he kissed her tenderly, a reminder of their future and promises they had bestowed upon each other the evening of the cotillion. His lips were dry from dehydration, however.

  “You need fluid. I’ll soon see to that, bringing you lemonade, tea, milk, and water. Gradually, you will regain your strength and your miracle of healing will appear to everyone. John, you shall be cured of pneumonia and your wound infection soon. That is a miracle in itself,” she whispered.

  A few days later, he was finally able to descend the stairs. The two of them were seated on the side porch overlooking the shade garden, enjoying the warmth. Grandmother Hattie had just explained how the phlox drew butterflies into her garden, when she heard a knock on the front door and went to answer it. John once again took up the subject of the map, which seemed very important to him. It was then that the ominous letter arrived, by way of Robert’s hand. “This just came, Rachael. I thought you should read it immediately. So, I came,” he told his surprised sister. “Where are Viola and Phoebe?”

  “They are in the village with Antonio Bradshaw and Monty Graham looking for a cookie and tea setting for Viola,” was Rachael’s reply. A note of concern crept into her voice and heart as she unfolded the missive. “Why?”

  Robert nodded toward the letter. “Read it, please. The letter explains my visit.”