Shadow of Shame: Book 1 of the Shadow series

by Barbara Goss

  Jonas removed a few more bills from his pocket, but held them out of her reach. “Where is Beulah?”

  “Mr. E. told me that the child’s grandmother was dead. Is that who Beulah is?”

  Jonas nodded. “Strange that no one in town knows about her dying, or I’d have heard about it,” Jonas said.

  “That’s all I know.” She held out her hand again.

  “When is this Mr. E. due to come by again with supplies?” Jonas asked. He was growing impatient with the woman.

  “I never know. He was here just yesterday, so not for a while again.”

  “Jonas!” Caleb yelled from another part of the house. “You’d better come in here.”

  Jonas slapped the bills into her hand and told her, “Leave right now, and don’t come back.”

  She grabbed the money and sped out of the house.

  Jonas hurriedly followed the sound of a child’s screaming cry, and found Caleb standing in the doorway of a small, dark, closet-like room.

  “I would have called you sooner,” Caleb said, “but I was too busy gagging.”

  Jonas stuck his head into the room and grimaced. “Grab her and let’s get out of here.”

  “Grab her? You grab her…this place should be condemned.” Caleb limped away. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Jonas said.

  The little girl had stopped crying and stood in her bed, staring at him with wide eyes. She had tear paths encrusted on her honey-colored face. She was naked, and standing in her own urine and feces. Jonas was puzzled as to how to proceed.

  He went looking for something to wrap the child in, and found a quilt in the next bedroom. He yanked the quilt off the four-poster, and brought it into the child’s room. He walked gingerly to the crib, avoiding all sorts of waste and garbage on the floor, wrapped the quilt around the child, and picked her up. She didn’t cry, but continued to stare wide-eyed at him.

  “It’s all right,” he said, trying to soothe the child.

  He carried her out of the house, climbed into the buggy, and set her on the seat beside him.

  “What now?” Caleb asked, holding a handkerchief to his nose.

  “I guess I have myself a child,” Jonas said, smiling at the little girl who, despite her age, sucked furiously on her thumb.

  “But she’s colored, of African decent,” Caleb said. “Half, anyway.”

  “Yes, she is. I thought you knew that when she was born,” Jonas said.

  “I did, but Jonas, you can’t—I mean, what will people think? Who will you say she belongs to?”

  “I’ll think of something. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

  “You want me to what?” Thelma asked.

  “She needs a bath. I’ve never bathed a child before. You’ve had six children, surely you can do this for me. Please?” Jonas asked.

  Standing defiantly with her hands on her hips she said, “I’m a housekeeper, not a nanny.” She glanced over at the child bundled in the quilt. “She is a cute little thing…all right, I’ll bathe her. But this will not become one of my regular duties.”

  “Thank you, Thelma. I’ll hire someone, I promise,” he said.

  “Good.” Thelma picked the child up and headed with her to the back room where she did the laundry. “Go to town, right now, and hire someone!”

  Chapter 7

  Instead of going to town to find a child-minder, Jonas went to his father’s house. His father waved to him from the barn when he saw him. Jonas hitched his horse, and walked to meet him.

  “I’m just finishing up in here,” his father said. “Let’s go into the house. Phoebe’s been asking about you. She’ll be pleased to see you finally decided to stop by for a visit.”

  They walked through the back door and found his father’s wife watering the potted plants that sat on the kitchen windowsill.

  “Jonas!” she cried. She dropped her watering can and ran over to hug him. “I'm so happy to see you. It’s been too long. Have a seat.” She pointed to a kitchen chair. “Or should we go in the sitting room?”

  “No,” Jonas said, “this is fine. I can’t stay long. I need some advice.”

  “They all sat at the small, wooden table. “What’s on your mind,” his father asked.

  “I need a child-minder…nurse…or nanny…or whatever someone who takes care of children is called.”

  “What for?” Both his father and Phoebe said in unison.

  “I brought Zoe home.”

  “What? Why?” his father asked. “Where’s Beulah?”

  “I have no idea. I found the child standing in filth, living in a pigsty, with a young woman caring for her who didn’t seem to be minding her at all. She claims she's being paid by someone named Mr. E. I’ve been dropping off these gradually rising payments each month, and evidently Mr. E. has been writing the letters and taking the money.”

  “Mr. E.?” George asked. “Five years ago I would have been able to pinpoint anyone with the last name starting with E, but now so many new families have moved in, I really only know the people who go to my church.”

  Phoebe, who had been silent up to now, poured each of them a cup of tea. “Jonas, what will you do with the child? Isn’t she colored?”

  “She is…half. I’ve been supporting her up until now, and now I guess I’m taking her in. Just because she isn’t mine doesn’t mean—”

  “I know, son,” George said. “You did the right thing. I want to know more about this Mr. E. business, too, but right now let’s find you a nanny. He turned to his wife. “Do you know anyone, Phoebe?”

  Jonas watched Phoebe stirring her tea and thinking. She was still a pretty woman, even in her early fifties. He liked her. A civil war widow who'd never had children of her own, she treated him and Caleb as if they were her own sons.

  “I’m thinking,” she said. She smoothed the slightly graying bun at the back of her head. “What about Mrs. Brewster?”

  George shook his head. “Too old.”

  “Well,” Phoebe said, “she’s the only one I can think of. Maybe Jonas could use her just until he finds someone else.”

  “I’m trying to think of someone from church who doesn’t already have a family, and is in need of work,” George said.

  “Quinn’s sister, Peggy?” Phoebe asked.

  Both George and Jonas said, “Too young.”

  Jonas was beginning to panic. What if he couldn’t find anyone to tend to the child? “There has to be someone.”

  “I don’t suppose Thelma would consider tending the child if you raised her pay?” Phoebe suggested.

  “You don’t know Thelma.” Jonas shook his head. “What if I can’t find anyone?”

  “Have some more tea, Jonas,” Phoebe said. “I’m still thinking.”

  George snapped his fingers. “What about the Widow Smith?”

  “Yes!” Phoebe said with enthusiasm. “She’d be perfect.” She turned to Jonas. “Ingrid’s husband died about a year and a half ago. He left her with a very small house, and she’s been taking in laundry and mending to make ends meet ever since.”

  “Can we try to get her today?” Jonas asked. “Like now?”

  “We can try,” George said. “C’mon, Jonas. Let’s ride over and ask her.”

  When they returned, Jonas and George entered the house with Mrs. Smith following behind them.

  “Thelma!” Jonas called.

  “I’m coming, keep your voices down,” she said as she descended the stairs. “I’ve just put the little elf to sleep.”

  “I appreciate it, Thelma,” Jonas said. “There’ll be a bonus in your pay this week for it.”

  “Aw, she’s such a sweet child, I really didn’t mind. She curled up on the bed in the spare room after her bath and fell immediately asleep.”

  “I’ve found a nanny for her.” Jonas moved aside so she could see Mrs. Smith. “Mrs. Smith will be her nanny from eight in the morning until eight at night. Mrs. Smith, this is Thelma, my housekeeper.”
/>   Thelma nodded to Mrs. Smith. “I’m thankful to see you. I just keep house, so your presence here will be most welcome.”

  “You can call me Ingrid,” the nanny said to everyone.

  Ingrid Smith was a petite woman in her late forties to early fifties. She wore her dark hair tied back with a ribbon. She had sharp hazel eyes and a ready smile. Jonas approved.

  Thelma turned to Jonas. “That being settled, I will expect a bit of a raise now, since I’ll be keeping house for a child as well.”

  “I’m not sure if she’s staying, Thelma, but for as long as she’s here, you’ll get your raise.”

  “Whose child is she?” Thelma asked, offhandedly.

  Ingrid’s head turned to Jonas with a curious look.

  “We don’t know exactly…who, I mean.” Jonas looked to his father for help. He didn’t know how to explain the delicate situation.

  “The child’s name is Zoe. Since Jonas’s young wife gave birth to her, he is responsible, even though, as you can see, he isn’t her real father.”

  Ingrid still looked puzzled.

  “Ingrid,” George said, “Zoe is colored.”

  Ingrid gasped. Her hands flew to her chest.

  “Is that a problem?” Jonas asked, none too kindly.

  Ingrid didn’t speak for several minutes, but then she said, “I suppose it isn’t. I've just never…I mean, I've never even seen a colored person before. Weren’t they slaves from the south?”

  “They were, but not anymore,” Jonas said. “Kansas has always welcomed them. We don’t have many in Abilene as of yet. A man named Samson lived here at one time—he worked for the smithy—but he left the area. Earlier, we had a family on the north side of town, but they also moved on, due to the violence here in Abilene when the cattle drovers were still coming through.”

  Ingrid sighed. “I don’t suppose it matters. White or colored, they all bathe and eat the same, right?”

  “Right,” Jonas said, “but this child has been treated badly for some time. She'll need extra tender care.”

  “How sad,” Ingrid said. “I’ll do my best. How will you explain her to the community?”

  “The same as my father explained it to you. We aren’t ashamed.” Jonas tried to keep his voice calm despite his growing anger. “These things happen.”

  “It’s not her skin color I worry will cause a stir, but the circumstances of her birth.” Thelma said. “Anyone who sees her will know she isn’t your child, Jonas.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Jonas said. He was weary from the day's work. “I’m not even sure I’ll be keeping her. I have to find out where her grandmother is, and if the child has any other family who might want her.”

  “We also have to figure out what to do about this Mr. E.,” George said.

  When his father had left and Thelma was busy in the kitchen, Jonas invited Ingrid to sit with him over a cup of tea.

  “I want to discuss what I’ll expect from you,” he said. Ingrid nodded. “Your job is to care for the child’s every need: bathing, eating, dressing, and entertaining. I want to keep my distance from the child.”

  At her sharp look, he continued, “I don’t want to grow too attached to her, because I don’t know if she’ll be staying.”

  “The poor dear,” Ingrid said. “I think I can handle that.”

  “My main concern is that you treat her with gentle kindness. She’s been through a lot, and I want her to feel loved and safe, even though I can’t give her that myself. Can you give her that?”

  “Sure, I can. I love children.”

  “If her color bothers you in any way, tell me now, and I’ll find another—”

  “No, I’m fine with it. I was just surprised, is all,” she explained.

  “Do you have transportation to and from the ranch?” he asked.

  “No. I don’t have a horse or buggy.”

  “Not a problem. I have one you can borrow.”

  “She’ll need clothes,” Ingrid said. “She has none. Thelma put one of your shirts on her to sleep in.”

  “I’ll take care of that right now—she can’t stay in that huge shirt for long.” Jonas stood. He began to feel uneasy, as if he were being watched. He swung around and there, on the bottom step of the stairway, sat little Zoe, wide-eyed, with only her head visible from inside the huge shirt.

  “Hello,” Jonas said. “Don’t worry, Zoe. I’m going in to town right now to buy you some clothes.” He looked to Ingrid. “What size?”

  Ingrid smiled. “Just tell the store clerk she's four years old, and I’ll alter the clothes to fit, if needed. I’ll bring my sewing basket with me tomorrow.”

  “All right, then. I’ll be back soon.” He turned to Zoe. “This is your nanny. She will take care of you.” He turned back to Ingrid and said, “She must be hungry.”

  “I’ll whip her up something. Go on and get your shopping done.”

  On Jonas’s ride to town, he thought he’d solved the problem of what he’d tell people about Zoe, without having to lie. He’d just omit the most condemning detail.

  Ivy had just dropped Rose off at her friend’s house, the one who lived above the hardware store, when she spotted Jonas walking into the general store. She decided she might need a new ribbon or two, so she walked in behind him. She watched him as he strolled around, looking completely lost.

  “Jonas!” she said as if surprised to see him.

  “Ivy!” he greeted. “How fortunate to run into you. I’m in desperate need of that favor you promised me.”

  Ivy gave him her best smile. “You got it. How can I help?”

  “I need to buy clothing for a four year-old little girl. I have no idea what to buy or where to buy it.”

  “You’ll probably find more of a selection at the dry goods store across the street,” she said. “C’mon, I’ll go with you and help you pick them out.”

  Jonas seemed relieved, and said, “Thank you!”

  Ivy took him into the M & L Dry Goods Store and led him to a bin of clothes. “What exactly are you looking for, Jonas? Something for dress, play, or sleep?”

  “Everything.”

  “Everything?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yes, you see, I found a little girl today who was being mistreated, and I had no choice but to bring her home. I’m going to take care of her until I can find some family for her. She has nothing, because she was without clothes when I found her.”

  Ivy’s heart always fluttered when she was near Jonas, but the beat intensified after she heard his story. “How wonderful of you!” she said. “Of course I’ll assist you.” She dug into the bins of clothes and brought out a few different pieces she thought might fit the little girl. “Four, you say?”

  Jonas nodded. “She’ll be five in a few months, but she's a tiny, little thing.”

  “Here. These are underclothes.” She held out a small stack of clothing, and then went back to rummaging through the bins until she'd found dresses, nightgowns, and nearly everything a child would need. “How about shoes?”

  “Ah, I would have forgotten those. I don’t know what I’d have done had you not appeared when you did. Where do I find shoes?” he asked.

  She led him to an area at the back of the store, and picked out two pairs. “I’m picking out two pairs, one in a larger size. That way one of them should fit her. You can bring the other pair back.”

  “It was nothing short of a miracle that you happened to appear, Ivy. Thank you.”

  “If I can help you with the little girl in any way, please don’t hesitate to ask me, or my family. This is a wonderful thing you’re doing.”

  Jonas actually blushed, and her heart pounded harder; what a wonderful man!

  One of the women in our church has three little girls, all of them older than four. I’ll ask her if she has anything to donate to a worthy cause. I can’t wait to tell my father what a wonderful man we have living among us.”

  Jonas looked to Ivy as though he were speech
less. She thought his behavior typical of a generous man, shy about receiving praise.

  Jonas looked thoughtful, and said, “I need just one more favor.”

  “Name it,” Ivy said. She looked into those beautiful brown eyes—how could she refuse him? She’d thought him wonderful before, but now she was totally smitten, and she had to have this man. No other man would do. Not only was he handsome and charming, but now he was a philanthropist as well.

  “You're going to the barn dance with Boyd tonight, right?”

  “I couldn’t think of an excuse to say no fast enough—”

  “My favor is to be very careful. Watch out for him—I’m serious, don’t let him get too…” Jonas fumbled for words.

  “Familiar?” she asked.

  “Yes, exactly. My friend, Quinn, will be there, should you need help.”

  How bad was Boyd? She didn’t care much for him, but had no idea she needed to be warned about him. “Help? Now you’re scaring me. Just how bad is he?”

  “I’m not sure.” He grimaced. “He’s just used to hanging around a different type of woman, and that worries me. I can only hope he knows how to behave with a decent woman.”

  Was there no end to this man’s benevolence? Since he was worried about her, it must mean he cared about her, too, which gave her some encouragement.

  “I promise,” she said. “But now I need another favor.”

  Jonas laughed. “We’ll be trading favors forever.”

  Ivy was tempted to say, “I hope so,” but she knew that would be too obvious.

  “What’s the favor?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye, and a smile that Ivy found irresistible.

  “I’d like to come out and see the little girl.”

  Chapter 8

  Jonas didn’t know how to answer Ivy. “Well, I’m just getting her settled—”

  “Oh, I don’t mean today, or anything,” Ivy said. “I would like to eventually meet her, and make her feel welcome. I love children. I teach a Sunday School class for five-year-olds.”

  Jonas jumped at the chance to change the subject. “You have a Sunday School at your church? Mine is thinking of starting one.”