“Would anyone like another piece of pumpkin pie?” Pearl asked.
“Sara doesn’t have any pie.” Grace giggled at her own humor, her large brown eyes spilling over with laughter.
Everyone smiled at her enjoyment of her joke. Only two months old, Johnny and Jewell’s little Sara wouldn’t be having any pie this Thanksgiving Day.
“No more pie for me. I’m going to have my hands full.” Jason reached into the basket setting between him and Jewell, and lifted the sleeping baby. How could anything be so fragile, he wondered, laying Sara gently against his shoulder. The feel of her trusting, tiny body against his chest created a yearning in the pit of his stomach.
Pearl set a piece of pie on Jewell’s plate and smiled down at him, shaking her head. “Couldn’t even wait until the child awoke.”
Did Jason imagine it, or were her eyes misty? “Some temptations are impossible to resist.”
“You can say that again. I never get my fill of holding her.” Johnny grinned. “Maybe you’ll have one of your own soon.”
Pearl’s gaze darted away from Jason’s as though burned. He watched her continue dishing out pie. What was she thinking? “When we have our own,” he replied softly, “I want to start just like you did, with a girl. A little replica of her mother.”
Pearl’s eyes flashed a surprised look at him. She turned away quickly but not before he’d seen the pain in her face and felt it sear through him. He hadn’t intended to hurt her.
Did she think she would never have her own children? The thought almost stopped his heart. Did she think she’d sacrificed that dream when she agreed to marry him?
He rubbed his chin lightly against Sara’s sweet-smelling head. Pearl’s daughter—what an incredible gift that would be.
While the adults had a cup of coffee “to settle their meal,” conversation covered a myriad of topics: the continuing political argument regarding silver versus other currencies, reports of the growing number of unemployed men across the nation, the effect of the depression on Chippewa City where “hard times” prices were becoming normal and sales were primarily for cash, the recent fire at the local mill—thought to be incendiary—and last week’s blizzard in which a local woman died walking to her in-laws’ farm.
Jason’s gaze flew to Frank, and his throat suddenly felt thick. Seventy-five-miles-an-hour winds when Frank was out in that blizzard! Thank You, Lord, for saving him.
Maggie, Andrew, and Billy told of being sent home from school earlier in the week because the building was so cold that the ink was freezing in the ink-wells, of kids bringing their mothers’ spoons and knives to plate silver in natural philosophy class, and of teachers requiring whisperers in class to memorize portions of the Constitution.
Dr. Matt leaned back in his chair, hooked one thumb under the lapel of his coat, adjusted the silver-edged spectacles he always wore now, and told about the trip to the World’s Exposition in Chicago.
“Why don’t we all tell something for which we’re especially thankful this year?” Mother Boston suggested during a lull.
Jason’s lips pressed a kiss on the top of Sara’s head, and he winked at Johnny. “Bet I know what you and Jewell are most thankful for this Thanksgiving.”
Johnny laughed and squeezed Jewell’s hand. “Bet your guess is right.”
“I’m most thankful that Pearl married Jason and came to live with us,” Maggie volunteered.
“Me, too.” Did Jason’s voice sound as graveley to everyone else as it did to him?
Pearl smiled at Maggie, avoiding Jason’s eyes. Had he angered her? Things had been so good between them again since the night of the storm. He couldn’t go back to the tension they’d endured before. He wouldn’t. He noticed Boston lift her eyebrows inquiringly at Pearl and the almost imperceptible answering shake of Pearl’s head. What was that all about?
Frank scraped back his chair and threw down his napkin. “Far as I can see, Pearl’s the only good thing that’s happened to this family all year.”
Jason’s jaw was rigid in his effort to control his anger as Frank stormed from the room. He knew better than to act like that in front of company!
“Please excuse Frank,” Pearl was saying. “Things have been rather difficult for him lately.”
His anger grew. Defending Frank again!
Then it hit him like a lead ball to the stomach. It wasn’t anger at all. It was fear. He was scared stiff that Frank’s behavior today and the drinking binges he’d been going on didn’t have anything to do with Windom Academy or their parents’ deaths. What if Frank’s behavior was his way of dealing with his frustrated love for Pearl?
Memories flashed through Jason’s mind as though he looked at them through a stereoscope. Frank arguing for the right to drive Pearl home from their farm; Frank leaping to defend her honor against Ed Ray’s vile comments; Frank getting drunk for the first time the night of the dance—was it because Jason had pushed him aside to defend Pearl’s honor himself? Frank claimed he wanted to attend Windom Academy, but he stayed on the farm instead of finding a job that would pay his tuition. Was it to be nearer to Pearl?
Jason massaged baby Sara’s back while the fear he’d been fighting for months burned inside him like acid. Were his wife and brother in love with each other?
Eventually the others left the kitchen to the women. Maggie and Grace watched Sara so Jewell could help with the dishes. Andy and Billy went out to the barn, searching for something more exciting than adult company.
CHAPTER 16
The children chatted excitedly beneath heavy lap robes in the back of the wagon, listing the places they wanted to stop on the Christmas shopping trip. Pearl hadn’t seen so much anticipation and joy in their faces since their parents died. The day away from the farm would be good for them.
Good for Jason, too. He and his brothers had been butchering this week. All of them hated the job, hated taking the lives of the animals they’d cared for so faithfully, but no one mentioned it. It had to be done. Perhaps today would wipe some of the memory of it from their minds.
Sunlight glinted off the snow, making the already bright day brighter. The runners which had replaced the wheels for easier travel squeaked as they glided over the snow. Clouds rushed from the horses’ mouths, and frost coated the mufflers wrapped around the family members’ faces.
The clear day offered a beautiful view of the river valley from the bluff which towered over the business section. Smoke from the store chimneys and the six stacks from the railroad roundhouse rose straight and tall in the crisp air. Jason and his large, shaggy, blanket-covered work team had all they could do to keep the wagon on its runners under control as they started down the steep street from the top of the bluff.
The town had changed radically during her lifetime, Pearl thought. Barely three hundred people lived in the town when she was born. Now there were almost two thousand. She’d been glad to read in the newspaper that tubular gaslights had been put in at the train station house last week. Her experience with the tramp back in August was one she didn’t care to relive.
The millineries, pharmacies, clothing stores, hardware store, furniture store, jewelry stores, and general store all had their windows filled with Christmas displays, and nothing would do but they had to stop and admire each one. Maggie, Grace, and Pearl were captivated by the dolls and miniature furniture arranged in a Christmas party at Heiberg and Torgerson’s, while the men preferred the carving of a Viking ship.
They stopped at Sherdahl Jewelers—not to purchase but to allow the children to see his electric lights. Maggie and Andrew peered closely at them, fascinated, but Grace hid behind Jason’s legs and wanted nothing to do with the strange bulbs that held no flame or odor. Andrew tried to hide his excitement and pride when Mr. Sherdahl invited him along with Jason and Frank to view the two-horsepower engine that drove the lights and machinery in his store.
When they left, Jason spoke again of his desire to see the town establish an electrical service, listing its
benefits as though the family hadn’t already heard his arguments on the subject numerous times.
“You’re a farmer now,” Frank reminded him. “I’d think you’d be more interested in farmers rather than townspeople having electrical service.”
That ended the conversation but sparked a strange thought for Pearl. It did seem Jason was born a city man. His conversations often centered on improvements for Chippewa City. He had dreams for the town, the same as Dr. Matt. It was Frank, although determined to continue his education, who went to the Grange meetings and read The Progressive Farmer until it was rags.
Jason and Frank had some business to attend to so they left the others for a bit. Jason promised to meet them at Dr. Matt’s pharmacy in an hour.
The first stop for Pearl and the children was Bergh’s General Store. Pearl wanted to find something for Jason before he returned.
Running a finger lightly over the top of a carved wooden collar box, she frowned and looked over a display: collar boxes, cuff boxes, workboxes, jewelry boxes. Jason wouldn’t have much need of these now that he was on the farm instead of dressing daily as a rising young architect with a town office.
With Andrew’s help, she decided on flannel slippers with lambs-wool liners. They would keep Jason’s feet warm against the winter drafts that plagued their home, in spite of the hay piled around the foundation. Besides, the gift was thoughtful without being personal. With their unusual relationship, she felt her options were limited.
Before leaving the store, Pearl and the girls admired the silk and woolen mufflers, the latest novelties in dress goods and trimmings, plush cloaks and jackets, and ladies’ shawls. Andrew was more interested in warm winter boots, hats, and gents’ duck coats.
When they made their way to Dr. Matt’s pharmacy, a crowd of children was huddled around the show window. The Sterling children were as fascinated as the rest at the reproduction of the world’s fair Ferris wheel, its baskets in constant motion and loaded with dolls.
Bells chimed merrily as they entered. Jason entered right behind them. The warmth of the potbellied stove felt good to Pearl. Dr. Matt wasn’t in, but Mr. Jenson, one of his clerks, greeted them cheerfully in his rolling Scandinavian accent.
“We want to look at dolls,” Grace told Mr. Jenson importantly. Pearl and Jason exchanged delighted smiles over her head.
The clerk grinned from ear to ear. “You came to da right place, you betcha. Ve haf a t’ousand dolls—largest assortment ever brought to dis city.” He looked at Jason. “Anyv’ere from one penny to two dollars. Everyt’ing in da store priced to suit da hard times, you betcha.”
The toy department was a children’s paradise. They passed tin toys, iron toys, wood toys, musical toys, mechanical toys, toy beds and cradles, toy trunks, drums, rocking horses, shooflies, tea sets, toy furniture, banks, games of every description, hand sleds, storybooks, picture books, scrapbooks, panorama books; the variety seemed endless.
Grace was unaffected by it all, heading straight for the wall covered with dolls. After fifteen minutes of carefully listening to her critical review of numerous samples, Pearl and Jason left her alone with them and looked about the rest of the store.
They found Maggie admiring a display of autograph albums and scrapbooks, so popular with young girls and ladies. Andrew was lost in the book department among the dime novels. Pearl smiled at Jason and shook her head. Would Andy’s desire for adventure ever wane?
When they returned to the toy department, Grace was cradling a doll in her arms. It was porcelain, about eight inches long, with soft brown hair and eyes that opened and closed. It was difficult to convince her to leave the doll behind.
When the children finally drifted off to other stores to complete their own Christmas purchases, Maggie taking Grace with her, Jason and Pearl were free to do their shopping.
Of course, the doll with the eyes that opened and closed was a must for Grace. It was their first purchase.
At Pearl’s question, Jason explained that their money wasn’t so tight they would have to be “stingy” with their giving. The children had all been patient in asking for things for the last few months while Jason learned the basics of the family finances and running the farm. He felt they could afford a piece of clothing at a reasonable price for each child, and the doll for Grace. With the small gifts the children would be exchanging among themselves, it should be sufficient.
When they passed the lot where the town hall and opera house were to be built the following spring, Pearl noticed Jason’s gaze linger over the sight and his lips tighten. She recalled happening upon him one evening in the parlor, sketching his idea of the future building. He’d flushed when he realized she’d recognized it and tossed the paper into the parlor stove, neither of them saying a word. She hurt for him but his willing sacrifice for his family only increased her love.
It was such fun shopping together, having friendly arguments over the most appropriate gifts, feeling Jason’s hand at her elbow, shopkeepers nodding at them and calling them Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, as though they were one entity.
A stop at Kent’s Confectionery and Bakery resulted in a few pieces of bright ribbon candy, oranges from California, and apples from New York to place in the Christmas stockings.
They chose a blouse of dainty French flannel for Maggie. Pearl was almost through making a school dress of the softest pale gray wool for Grace, and she purchased black braid for trim to complete it.
It was difficult to choose for Andrew. When Pearl moved to the farm in August, he was two inches shorter than Maggie. Now he was just barely taller and no telling how much more he’d grow. None of his clothes hung right on him anymore. They finally settled on a pair of leather boots, which were costly at just over five dollars but which were sorely needed. Pearl would try cutting down some of Frank’s old slacks and shirts for the boy after the holidays.
When she asked about Frank, all Jason would say was that he’d already purchased his gift. His reticence made her curious.
A pictorial album of Chippewa City in blue leather with gold print, just published by a local photographer, was chosen for Dr. Matt. A porcelain heart pin, adorned with tiny painted pansies surrounding the word “Mother” in gold script, caught Pearl’s attention. During the last few months she’d grown to appreciate Boston’s sacrifices for her and Johnny in new ways. Perhaps this pin…
“Would you like it for Boston?” Jason asked.
She shifted her gaze to other pieces in the display case, not wanting him to see how badly she desired the piece. “We can find something else. The price is quite dear.”
“We’ll take it,” he told the clerk.
She spun to face him, and he smiled at her with a tenderness that tugged at her heart. “We’ll take it,” he repeated.
“Thank you.” Her gaze tangled with his. It wasn’t until the clerk handed them the small package wrapped in brown paper and tied with red twine that she realized with an embarrassed start they were still staring at each other with silly smiles. The memory of it made her incredibly self-conscious through the dinner at a local restaurant. She queried the others about their shopping throughout the meal, glad for a reason to avoid Jason’s eyes. An excitement that had nothing to do with Christmas buzzed beneath the surface, making her giddy.
After dinner, they stopped to watch kids sledding down the bluff, which dropped sharply from the prairie to the old river bottom where Main Street was built. It offered the only challenging sledding for miles. When one of the boys offered to let Andrew use his coaster for a run, he grasped at the chance. “Can I, Jase? I’ll take Grace along.”
Jason rubbed his chin, watching the kids whizzing past. The town fathers didn’t approve of sledding in this part of town, with busy Main Street at the bottom of the hill filled with horses, delivery wagons, and buggies. Still, he was too close to boyhood himself not to remember the thrill of that bluff.
“All right. But don’t forget what Dr. Matt said about all the loose teeth and broken bones
he’s seen from sledding the last few weeks.”
It wasn’t but a few minutes before Grace’s laughing face zoomed past, Andy’s arms shielding her from any possible harm. When the girl ran up to them, Pearl straightened her red crotcheted bonnet. “Was that fun?”
“Yes! We went fast! Faster than horses! And snow came up and splashed on my face!” She raised mittened hands in the air to demonstrate, giggling until her sparkling eyes and red lips seemed to meet.
The new Shakespearean Ice Rink beside the mill was next. It was fun to be on ice skates again. Grace was new to the sport, and her eyes were huge as Pearl and Jason skated along with her between them. When she was finally brave enough to try it on her own, she was on her chin or her bottom as often as on her skates, but those falls did nothing to dent her spirits.
If only people could keep that unconquerable zest throughout the true difficulties in life, Pearl thought, watching Grace once again struggle laughing to her feet. Some people did, people like Jason.
Her gaze drifted to Frank, who was gloomily watching Amy skate past with Ed Ray. Why was it that Frank took the easy road of complaint and excuses? Why did he refuse to hope and work for a better time?
Her thoughtful wanderings were cut short when Jason caught her hands as he darted past, pulling her about in a whirling circle and laughing down at her. “Skate with me, Mrs. Sterling,” he implored, slowing to draw her against his side, taking one of her gloved hands in his own.
They skated perfectly together, a unison born of skating together many times in the past. His breath was a gentle warm rush against her cheek when he leaned closer to share a thought or a comment on one of the other skaters. It made her heart race and her legs threaten to weaken if he removed his arm.
“By Henry! Frank’s actually loosened up and is skating with a girl. I don’t believe it!”
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