by Keli Gwyn
“There is nothing you can bring to make yourself worthy. I am the One who makes you worthy. Your worth isn’t determined by your physical body or your intellect or your pride. Your worth isn’t determined by how others see you or by how you see yourself. Your worth is established because I died for you. Because I have called you worthy. You are Mine. Abandon your pride, humble yourself.”
A rock-hard lump formed in Caleb’s throat as his soul wrestled with the truth he had known from a child but constantly fought against. If he abandoned his pride, he would be vulnerable. He would have to be open about his leg, about his life. He couldn’t hide anymore.
And that meant facing the people of Needles.
Even worse, it meant facing Meghan.
“I thought you were over this nonsense.” Mrs. Gregory snapped open a tablecloth and let it float onto the dining room table. “I thought you had come to your senses and finally seen Caleb McBride for what he is. You told me you were finished with him.”
“It isn’t nonsense, and I was wrong. I judged him unfairly, and so have you and the rest of the town. He’s a fine, upstanding man, and he deserves to have his name on the quilt alongside everyone else.” Meghan rolled a cart of china and cutlery across the floor and began setting the places. Her first shift back and the fireworks were already beginning. She tried to remind herself about the stress Mrs. Gregory was under, the worry that dogged her steps as she waited to hear about her son’s fate, but the injustice of her claims made it difficult.
Meghan could tell, in spite of the mask covering the lower half of Mrs. Gregory’s face, that the head waitress’s mouth was pinched in a persimmon pucker. The next tablecloth snapped open with more force. “I won’t have it, and what’s more, the people of this town won’t have it. If you persist and include Caleb McBride’s name on that quilt, I assure you no one will bid on it.”
“That’s not fair. He’s done nothing to deserve this treatment.” Meghan’s indignation burned hot and bright in her chest, all the more because of her guilt in the matter. But she wouldn’t back down. It was too important. “If you really knew him, you’d see that.” How could Meghan convince her without betraying Caleb’s secret?
“Poppycock. I’ve known him longer than you have, young lady, and I have to insist that you stop this. Against all initial indications, you’ve become a valued member of this serving crew and one of the best waitresses I’ve ever trained. I would hate to see you throw it all away on a wastrel like Caleb McBride. If you persist in seeing him and in putting his name on that quilt—making him the equal of everyone in this town who has sacrificed and prayed and labored for the cause when he’s nothing but a coward with no sense of duty, I will be forced to make an adjustment that I don’t want to make.” She straightened the chairs at the table. All around them girls bustled in and out of the kitchen and dish room and linen store preparing for the incoming train passengers. Though they continued with their work, they couldn’t help but overhear. The longer Mrs. Gregory talked, the louder her voice grew.
Meghan adjusted her mask, gulping. Sent home in disgrace to face her father with yet another failed escapade. She couldn’t let that happen. He’d never let her do anything ever again. “You’d dismiss me?”
“I would.” Mrs. Gregory pulled herself up to her full height, several inches taller than Meghan. She crossed her arms at her waist, formidable and every inch the boss.
“You can’t fire me for putting Caleb’s name on the quilt. I donated the money in his name. If you fired me for that, I would be forced to go to Mr. Ford Harvey himself.” Her knees quaked as she played her ace card.
All work in the dining room had ceased, and the girls didn’t even pretend not to be listening anymore. Even Natalie poked her head around the corner of the soda fountain door.
Mrs. Gregory’s eyes blazed and her face hardened, but it was the chilling calm, the razor edge to her voice that froze Meghan to the core. “The quilt is yours, and you can certainly choose which names you put on it, and I would not fire you for that. I would, however, fire you for having an improper relationship with a man while in the employ of the Harvey Company. You don’t deny that you’ve been seen in Caleb McBride’s company upon several occasions. I myself caught you consorting alone and unchaperoned the night of the benefit dance. You’ve been out to his property more than once, and when he fell ill here in the hotel, you refused to leave his side. Those are just the times I know about. Consorting with men, especially men of Caleb McBride’s type, is forbidden. I’ve warned you before, and I’m warning you now. If his name goes on the quilt and you choose to make public your feelings for him, I will dismiss you from the company.”
Meghan gasped. “I’ve never had an improper relationship with a man in my life.”
“I know what I know.” Her hands settled on her hips. “Now, unless you wish to have your employment terminated for insubordination, I suggest you finish setting these tables and learn to hold your tongue.” She glanced at the clock over the doorway and clapped her hands, raising her voice to encompass all the wait staff. “The train will arrive in less than ten minutes. I expect a flawless service, girls.”
Meghan slapped plates and cutlery on the table, ignoring the curious, sympathetic, and speculative glances being sent her way. Now she knew how Caleb felt, being falsely accused. At least Caleb had the sense to keep his mouth shut.
“It’s the right thing to do.” Meghan picked at the seam holding the binding to the quilt. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her mind raced. Was she making the biggest error of her life or redeeming her biggest mistake?
Natalie ran the iron over the bib of an apron. “I know it is, but what about Mrs. Gregory? She was very clear.”
“But she’s wrong, and I’ve given in for too long. It isn’t that I don’t feel for her. Her son is fighting for his life, all shot up in some foreign hospital. But that doesn’t mean she should be allowed to bully people. Your husband and my brother are on the front lines, and we’re not slapping down ultimatums and threatening people with unfounded accusations.” She freed the corner of the quilt block and picked up her embroidery thread. The need to hurry made her fumble-fingered.
“Mr. Gibson will be here this afternoon for the rally tonight. What are you going to tell him if no one bids on your quilt? How are you going to explain the shortfall in your pledge?”
She shrugged, though a heavy hand pressed her shoulders at the thought. “I’ll give him the money I raised from the signatures, and I’ll tell him the truth. I made the quilt in good faith, and if no one bids on it, then I will have to admit defeat in that quarter.” She swallowed the bitter lump in her throat and jerked her chin up. “But I don’t care. I’ll be victorious in a more important battle. The battle of right and wrong.” Her needle poked in and out of the white fabric.
“What about the ambulance? What about Lars and Derek and the other soldiers? You’ve been on a crusade all summer long, and you’re so close to your goal. Not to mention what will happen if you go through with this. Mrs. Gregory will fire you quicker than you can say American Red Cross. Then where will you be?”
“I’ll be on the side of right.” Meghan set her mouth and drew the red embroidery thread through the cloth to form a capital C.
With a sigh, Natalie set the iron upright and hung the apron on a hanger. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. I’m going out for a bit. Do you need anything from Claypool’s?”
“No. I have to finish this, and then I’m on duty in the dining room until the rally starts.”
“I’ll be back before then.” She picked up a basket and held it in front of her. For the past week, she’d been carrying things with her to shield her middle from speculative eyes. How long before someone noticed and started whispering? “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I.”
Caleb pushed his good foot on the boards and set the rocker into motion, studying the view from Doc’s front porch. For the first time in nearly thre
e weeks, he felt almost normal, and he sighed, flexing his hands and rolling his shoulders. Tomorrow, he and Joshua would head home. It was time to get back to the horses. The Hualgas had urged them both to stay in town until they were fully recovered, and Caleb knew the horses were well looked after, but a man needed to shoulder his own responsibilities. He’d been laid up long enough. Besides which, if he went home, he’d stop hoping and expecting Meghan to walk over from the hotel. In spite of Doc’s prediction that he’d see her again, she’d stayed away, causing doubt and uncertainty and all the old feelings to come crowding back. His chest pinched. Stop thinking about her.
Forcing his mind away from Meghan, he considered his other dilemma. How to make known to the people of Needles why he hadn’t enlisted. It wasn’t as if he could just put an advertisement in the newspaper, could he?
He picked up the copy of the Desert Star from the side table and scanned the front page. The entire top half under the masthead was devoted to tonight’s Red Cross rally at the El Garces Hotel. Below the fold, more news from the war front about the desperate fighting. But this time there was cause for hope. Only days before, the Allied troops had broken through the German fortifications at the Hindenburg line. Surely, with such a huge victory, the end of the war must be drawing near.
“Here.” Joshua edged open the screen door, carefully balancing a tray. Ice clinked in a pitcher of lemonade. “It’s going to be tart. I stirred in the last of the sugar, but it wasn’t much.”
Caleb sipped the pale yellow liquid and winced. “Whew.”
“Yeah, but at least it’s cold.”
“You up to going back to the ranch tomorrow?” He set the glass down.
“I’m ready.” Joshua took the other chair, stretching his legs out before him and resting his glass against his lean stomach.
“Doc said half days to start with for both of us. Last thing we want is a relapse.”
“At least all this laying around has given me a chance to read.” Joshua withdrew a slim volume from his hip pocket. Diseases of the Pancreas in gold letters on a clothbound cover. “I think I’ve read just about every medical book Doc has.”
“You’ve made up your mind to go to medical school then?”
He nodded. “Doc says I can do it, and that he’ll help me. He’s already started putting out some feelers. Maybe I can start at the new year.”
A small figure in black and white hurried toward them, and for a moment, Caleb’s heart leaped, but as the woman drew near, his pulse subsided. No red hair, no flashing green eyes. Not Meghan. Caleb laid aside the newspaper and pushed himself to his feet as Miss Daviot turned in at the gate. He cleared his throat and frowned toward Joshua, who snapped his book shut and scrambled to his feet.
She mounted the steps, and Joshua offered her his chair. “Ma’am. I’ll get another glass.”
Wiping her brow, she took the chair and set her basket on her lap. “Thank you, Joshua. Mr. McBride.”
“Caleb, please.” He resumed his seat. “What can we do for you? Doc’s not here. He walked up the street to the Sawyer place. A couple of their little ones had the influenza pretty bad, and he wanted to check on their progress now that they’re on the mend.”
“Actually, it’s you I wanted to see.” A flush decorated her cheeks, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the heat or some other reason. “It’s about Meghan.”
His heart did a hiccup, and his mouth went dry. In spite of the tartness, he swigged a mouthful of the lemonade, screwing up his eyes as the sourness bit deep. “What about her?”
“She’s about to commit Red Cross membership and career suicide. Since you’re the cause, I thought you should know the sacrifice she’s willing to make for you.”
“What?”
“It’s this quilt. She informed Mrs. Gregory this morning that she intended to put your name on it. Mrs. Gregory told her in no uncertain terms that if she did, not a soul in town would bid for it. Meghan was hoping to raise several hundred dollars from auctioning the quilt in order to reach her pledge of one thousand dollars to purchase a Red Cross ambulance. If no one bids, she will be humiliated in front of the town, disgraced before the Red Cross, and even worse, Mrs. Gregory said she will fire Meghan.”
A squirming ball of worms took up residence in Caleb’s gut. Sick, clammy weakness washed over him. “She can’t fire Meghan for something like that.”
“She says she’ll fire her for breaking the company’s rules against fraternizing with gentlemen while in the Harvey employ. In short, Meghan will lose her job because she has fallen in love with you.”
Caleb blinked, as stunned as if she’d hit him with a baseball bat. He said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Meghan’s not in love with me.”
The screen door creaked, and Joshua emerged with another glass. Right behind him came Doc. Their snorts of derision mingled, and Joshua rolled his eyes.
Doc sauntered to the porch rail and leaned against it. “I came in through the back, and just in time, too.”
Joshua sank, cross-legged onto the planks and leaned against a post. “How come everybody in town knows Meghan’s in love with you except you?”
“Then where has she been the last couple weeks? Stands to reason if a girl loved a fellow, she’d come and see him, wouldn’t she?” Caleb set his glass on the table and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs.
“She slept straight through the first day, and on my orders.” Doc poked his chest with his thumb. “I told her to stick to her room and do no work at all for the next couple of days to recover from all that nursing.”
Natalie toyed with the handle on her basket. “And ever since then, she’s been either working flat stick in the dining room, or she’s been sewing like crazy to get the quilt finished on time. As it is, she didn’t have time to quilt it. Just ended up tying it with red yarn. Meghan’s barely had a moment to herself. And if Mrs. Gregory found she’d snuck out to see you, she’d have been fired on the spot, quilt or no quilt. Her not coming to see you doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. Perhaps it means she’s trying to protect you from more of this town’s scorn raining down on you.” Her eyes narrowed, as if she were wondering if he were good enough for her friend, and he wasn’t exactly coming up to scratch. “If she didn’t love you, why would she risk her job and being humiliated in front of the whole town?”
“We’ve all tried to tell you.” Joshua drew his knees up. “That girl is in love with you, and even a blind mule with his head in bucket could see you’re in love with her. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“What about this Lars fellow she said she loved?” Caleb grasped at another straw.
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Lars is her brother. Of course she loves him.”
Shocked relief made his face go slack. Her brother?
“Well,” Joshua asked, “what are you going to do?”
Their eyes bored into him, and he wanted to squirm like a first grader caught putting a frog in the teacher’s desk. And yet, Meghan loved him? Was willing to stand up to an entire town on his behalf, even knowing he was a cripple?
“Well?” Doc prodded.
“My truck is still at the hotel, isn’t it?”
“Right where you left it when you brought Joshua in. Why?”
“I need it if I’m going to get out to the ranch.”
“What?” All three spoke in unison. Joshua’s mouth flopped open, and disapproval invaded Doc’s eyes. Natalie bit her lower lip and shook her head.
“I need to go home.”
Natalie’s mouth dropped open, and a look of pure disappointed disgust locked Joshua’s features. Doc shook his head and pulled his hands from his pants’ pockets. “I don’t want you driving out into the desert by yourself. I’ll take you.” His voice sounded leaden with defeat.
Caleb stood, bracing himself for what was to come and praying he had the courage to see it through.
Chapter 16
Meghan hurried to change out
of her uniform and into the new dress she’d ordered from the Sears Roebuck catalog just for tonight’s occasion. A beautiful green voile with lace trim, it was as up to the minute as the wide-brimmed hat she’d ordered to go with it. The satin sash on the dress and the ribbons on the hat matched perfectly. As she donned it, she felt she was gearing up as a knight to go into battle.
She set the hat at a cheeky angle and winked at her reflection to give herself courage. “We who are about to die salute you.” She snapped a salute, picked up the carefully folded quilt, and went to meet her fate.
Citizens of Needles trooped upstairs for the festivities. Jenny Ralston had delivered the news that Mr. Gibson had arrived and that Mrs. Gregory had fallen over herself to make him welcome. With no evening train scheduled, the entire hotel staff had been pressed into service preparing the north loggia with lights and bunting, tables and streamers.
It seemed as if the entire city had turned out, as if to celebrate after laboring under the threat and burden of influenza for so long. Perhaps a little light gaiety would offset some of the sorrows.
Meghan skirted clusters of chatting guests, her quilt tucked under her arm. All around the perimeter of the room, auction items had been set out. Jars of jam, baskets, lace collars, breads and cakes, needlepoint pillows. A small card marked the place where her quilt should go, the last item, and the supposed highlight of the auction.
Feeling the eyes watching her, noting the stilling of conversation, Meghan laid the quilt out on the table, draping it to show off the red crosses on the white fields. From the curious craning of necks and the way people crowded around when she stepped back, Meghan could only surmise that word had gotten around about her confrontation with Mrs. Gregory.
Someone linked her arm, and Meghan turned. Natalie squeezed her elbow, her cheeks bright and her blue eyes brilliant. “You did it then?”
Meghan couldn’t speak, so she nodded. Mrs. Gregory sailed into their sphere of vision, parted the onlookers and reached for the quilt. Shaking out its folds, she scanned name after name until she came to the bottom right corner.