The Gift of a Child

by Laura Abbot

  Embarrassed to be found in her workaday gown by one who undoubtedly dressed her mistress in the finest of silks and satins, Rose folded her arms across her chest. “It’s wash day,” she said by way of explanation.

  “In this heat?”

  When else? Rose wondered. “We can’t delay. The only relief from the heat is rain, and that won’t do for laundering.”

  “Oh. I suppose not.”

  Rose figured Hannah would discover that sooner than later, unless, of course, Aunt Lavinia hired a washerwoman. “Would you like to come in?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I merely came to give you this.” She reached in her pocket and extended a note. “It’s from Mrs. Dupree.” Then she bobbed a hint of a curtsy. “I’ll be leaving now.”

  With the envelope in her hand, Rose watched the young woman walk away, and was loath to open the message. Finally she slit the envelope flap and withdrew the creamy notepaper embossed with the initials LD.

  I should like to invite you to call upon me Friday at eleven.

  If you wish, you may also bring the child.

  Your loving Aunt Lavinia

  Rose looked down at her shabby dress, contrasting it to what fine ladies undoubtedly wore when making social calls. Not only did Rose feel inferior, she resented being summoned. Friday at eleven. No room for accommodation there. And If you wish, you may also bring the child. The child had a name, for mercy’s sake. Furthermore, how could the woman possibly presume she would leave Alf behind? Even as she raged, she knew she was being uncharitable. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.

  She couldn’t wait for Papa to get home. She longed for the reassurance of his embrace and his soft voice soothing away the events of this troubling day.

  “Rose?” Alf tugged at her skirt. “I’m hungry.”

  That, at least, was something she could address.

  * * *

  On Thursday, Rose prepared a blackberry cobbler with fresh cream to serve after Lily and Bess Stanton finished discussing midwifery procedures. Ezra had prevailed upon the nurse to assist him in the care of expectant mothers, and Bess had welcomed the opportunity. Now, while the two women bent over the books spread on the kitchen table, Rose sat quietly on the back porch with her darning, minding Alf’s play. Overhearing occasional words like “afterbirth” and “breech presentation,” she was vividly reminded of the time at Fort Larned when she was pressed into service to help with a delivery. Sadly the mother had died. The travail of childbirth was not to be taken lightly, yet it was an ordeal she would gladly have undergone if only... Disgusted with the direction of her thoughts, she picked up her papa’s stocking and attacked a hole with fingers flying.

  Watching Alf set his “sojers” on the blocks, Rose couldn’t help recalling Sheriff Jensen’s words. Could it be that Alf was the child of a former soldier and an Indian woman? Yet the trail was cold. Perhaps no more information would be forthcoming and she could formally adopt the boy. She prayed it would be so.

  When Bess’s lesson came to an end, Lily stuck her head out the door. “That cobbler smells mighty good.”

  Rose called Alf to come to the kitchen. After dishing up generous portions of the dessert, the women turned to community matters. “I think the Courthouse Ball will be the grandest occasion Chase County has ever experienced and a fitting way to celebrate the building’s dedication,” Bess said. “A small orchestra is coming from Topeka. There will be sumptuous refreshments, speeches and dancing. We must begin planning our gowns.”

  “How glorious!” Lily gushed.

  Rose wished she could work up enthusiasm, but she couldn’t imagine what she could wear or with whom she might dance. Her experience with such grand affairs had been limited and painful.

  “The committee will soon be announcing plans in the newspaper,” Bess added. “We are hoping everyone in the region will attend.”

  “Later in the summer, we have the county-wide camp meeting to look forward to. Brother Hampton Orbison will be coming all the way from Iowa to preach the word.” Lily paused to take a bite of the cobbler. While the other two prattled on, Rose busied herself helping Alf spoon up the cobbler lest he stain his overalls. Finally there was a lull in the conversation, and Lily softly called her name.

  Rose looked up, noting the perplexed expression on her sister’s face. “You’re awfully quiet today,” Lily observed.

  “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m merely preoccupied.”

  “About tomorrow’s time with Aunt Lavinia, perhaps?”

  Rose sighed. “How did you hear about that?”

  “Lavinia told Caleb when he came to town earlier in the week to help her with some house repairs.”

  Bess covered Rose’s hand with her own. “Dear, do share your concerns.”

  Looking from Bess to Lily and noting the affection in their eyes, Rose decided to unburden herself. She told them about the sheriff’s visit and her fears concerning Lavinia’s reaction to her taking Alf in and to the reality of his parentage. She explained that it was difficult enough to feel socially awkward around her aunt without also running the risk of being morally judged.

  When she finished, Bess patted her hand and said, “Best not to borrow trouble. Wait to see what your aunt wants. How she will react.”

  Lily leaned forward. “Aunt Lavinia can appear unapproachable, Rose, but I think she’s searching for a new way to be. However, we can’t expect her to change overnight. As hard as it is, I believe we are called to love her through her grief and transition.”

  Spontaneously, the haunting words of the hymn once again sprang to mind—“the wideness of God’s mercy.” Rose nodded her head, then addressed her friend and her sister. “Perhaps I have overly focused on my own problems and needs. Thank you for reminding me not to fear censure or to judge another prematurely.”

  Lily opened her mouth to say, “All things in—”

  “—God’s time,” Rose finished, and the two broke into laughter, remembering the many occasions when they had invoked their mother’s words.

  * * *

  Walking toward Lavinia’s home the next morning, Rose felt her courage waning. She had scoured her wardrobe for a suitable dress, finally settling on a full gray skirt and white waist trimmed with lace. At her neck she wore her mother’s cameo. This outfit would have to do. She’d dressed Alf in short breeches and a wide-collared white shirt. When they were two houses away from Lavinia’s three-story limestone dwelling, Rose took hold of Alf’s hands and reminded him once again to behave like a little gentleman. The boy nodded with a solemn air. “I will be good.”

  Hannah admitted them into the house, its high ceilings airy and the burnished wood floors gleaming, and led them into the parlor, furnished with stiff-backed chairs, marble-top tables, Oriental rugs and glass lamps. Noting the numerous gewgaws adorning every surface, Rose cringed, hoping Alf wouldn’t break anything. The two of them perched on the edge of a horsehair settee awaiting Aunt Lavinia’s entrance, a delay which Rose supposed was part of the social ritual.

  After only a few minutes, Lavinia Dupree swept into the room, the short train of her rich blue dress trailing behind her. Lavinia extended her arms, and Rose stood to receive a formal embrace. When Lavinia sank into a nearby chair, Rose sat back down, pressing a restraining hand on Alf’s knee.

  After a perfunctory exchange of greetings, Lavinia rang a small bell to summon her maid. “I took the liberty of asking Hannah to prepare some cake for the boy, so she will take him to the kitchen while we visit.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was a command. Rose felt prickles run down her spine. Patience, she urged herself. “I’m sure he would enjoy that.”

  After looking at Rose questioningly, Alf permitted himself to be led from the room.

  �
��Children get bored easily,” Lavinia remarked, “and I should so like to have a decent tête-à-tête with you. While I have had happy occasions to become acquainted with Lily, you remain something of a mystery. I should like to know what interests you, what ambitions you have for yourself.”

  Rose scrambled for the words to acquit herself favorably. “Of the two of us, Lily is the more social, and I, the more domestic. I should say housekeeping and cooking are my two talents. As for ambitions, mine are simple. I should like to be a helpful daughter to my father and a loving mother to my son.”

  Lavinia’s eyebrows shot up. “Son? Son? Surely you can’t mean that foundling boy.”

  Before she could even consider censoring herself, Rose retorted, “Boy? I most certainly do mean him. And may I take this opportunity to remind you he has a name. Alf. Please do me the courtesy in the future of referring to him by his given name.” Rose sat back, limp with vexation.

  Frowning, Lavinia fussed with the ruffles on her bodice and then, after a deep sigh, she spoke. “As you wish. Pray tell me how this boy, excuse me, this Alf came to be your concern.”

  In clipped phrases, Rose explained how Alf had come to live with her and her father. “He may not be of my own flesh, but he is a child in great need of love, and I have that love to give. Surely, God requires no less of me.”

  Lavinia sniffed. “Well, now that you bring God into it...”

  “Jesus would have us care for ‘the least of these.’”

  “Of course the boy...Alf must be cared for. I’m sure he is a delightful little fellow. However, it surely has not escaped you that as an unmarried woman, it is unseemly for you to accept this burden. Especially given his—how shall I put it—dubious parentage.”

  “Alf is not a burden. He is a joy.” Rose felt her cheeks flame. “He was left in my care. He is in need, and his origin matters not at all. I shall not turn my back. It is true I am not married, nor do I have any prospects of such a state, but others like Papa, Caleb and Seth are generously filling the paternal role.”

  “But what will people think?”

  Rose had anticipated Lavinia would come to that and had prepared an answer in advance. “I pray people will think I am helping this boy to grow up knowing he is loved. I am fully aware that there are those who do not approve of my decision and are unsparing in their judgment. However, I hope you will not be among them. You are family, Aunt Lavinia, and I ask you to get to know Alf and come to regard him as a great-nephew. I understand that you will need to consider my request prayerfully and that it will take time for you to accept us as we are. Please do take that time.”

  Lavinia sat stock-still, seemingly lost in thought. When she finally spoke, Rose had to lean forward to hear her. “I had no children,” the older woman began. “Nor am I accustomed to them. I shall not know how to act.”

  “On the contrary, Aunt Lavinia, you took the marble from Alf. He has not found you wanting.”

  “Oh, that reminds me.” She rang a bell and when Hannah appeared, Lavinia asked her to bring Alf into the room.

  As the boy edged forward, he smiled at Rose. “I ’member now.” He pointed at the older woman. “She’s the marble lady.” He approached Aunt Lavinia and stopped in front of her. “Will you play marbles with me?”

  For once, Aunt Lavinia looked unsure of herself. “Young man, perhaps one day soon.”

  “We should take our leave now.” Rose stood. “Thank you for your interest in us.”

  “You are family,” Lavinia said quietly. “And, Rose, I shall take the time to consider what you have told me about Alf.”

  Hearing his name, the boy looked up and said, “Marbles. You and me.”

  As if his words brought her out of a daze, Lavinia started and then said, “Oh, dear, Alf, I nearly forgot. I have something for you.” She put a hand in her pocket and drew out a gray, black and white agate, far larger than those in Alf’s collection. “This is for you.” She placed the stone in Alf’s hand.

  Alf beamed up at her. “Rose told me I would love you.”

  Lavinia patted the boy’s shoulder and then, over his head, found Rose’s eyes. “I’ll try,” she said softly before her expression hardened. “But it will be difficult.”

  On their way home, Rose reflected that trying was all she could ask of her aunt, but the gift of the marble showed promise.

  Chapter Eight

  Seth gnawed on a piece of beef jerky as he rode toward the far pasture. The mid-July heat had been blistering with nary a rain cloud in sight for days. The spring-fed ponds usually provided an adequate water supply for the herd, but some springs were now mere trickles. If the upper pond was low, he and Caleb would have to consider moving the cattle.

  If that wasn’t enough of a worry, they were short one hand. After the man’s bout with pneumonia, he had opted to move back to Kansas City. Caleb credited Doc Kellogg with saving the fellow. Cottonwood Falls was lucky to have Ezra. Lately Seth had noticed the doctor was accompanied on some of his rounds by Bess Stanton. Well, folks could use all the medical help they could get. Thank God Alf’s illness had passed and the lad was once again his lively self. Since his mother’s death, Seth could not remember a time he had been more frightened than when he was praying at Alf’s bedside. How Rose had pulled that prayer out of him was a mystery. But then, he admitted with a jolt, he could hardly deny Rose much of anything.

  He liked thinking about her creamy skin, dusted with freckles, her reddish-blond hair that looked as if it would be soft to the touch and her blue eyes, as calm as a deep pool. Even though he dropped into bed each night sore and spent, he often lay awake picturing her and reflecting on the easy comfort he experienced in her presence. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be a real family—Rose, Alf and himself. Such wayward thoughts were dangerous. Goliath, Goliath. Why set himself up for rejection? It would be foolish to mistake Rose’s mere kindness for something more.

  After arriving at the pasture and assuring himself that a sufficient water supply existed, he turned Patches toward home, deciding at the last minute to detour by Lily and Caleb’s to see little Mattie. She would have to be child enough for him.

  “Seth, what a surprise!” Lily stood in the doorway, her rose-colored dress covered by a white apron that bore vestiges berry juice. “You look road weary. I have just the thing to perk you up.”

  Mattie rushed toward him, holding out her arms to be picked up. The sweetness of her chubby arms around his neck and her curls tickling his cheek filled him with delight. “We having a treat, Unca. You come.”

  Seth kissed her forehead, then set her down. She tucked her little hands in his and led him into the kitchen where she climbed onto her chair and began eating. Lily served him a slice of jelly roll and a tall glass of cold tea, then settled across from him.

  “I’m glad you came by. We haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “‘Make hay while the sun shines’ is my motto. I’m sure Caleb is just as busy as I am.”

  “Have you been to town recently?”

  He suspected this wasn’t an innocent question. “Not lately,” he said before taking a bite of the warm jelly roll.

  “I saw Rose and Lavinia last week at the Library Society meeting.”

  He wanted to ask about Rose but thought better of it. “How did that go?”

  “It was quite interesting. Bess Stanton read a fine paper concerning British female novelists, and Dora Jensen brought Swedish krumkakes and berries for dessert. But the highlight—”

  “Lavinia Dupree.”

  Lily threw back her head and laughed. “Why, Seth Montgomery, you’re as wise as Solomon. Dressed to the nines, she sashayed in as if she owned the place. For the longest time, she sat like a queen surveying her subjects. It made for a bit of an uncomfortable afternoon until right toward the end when she finally spoke up. ‘I declare,
this was a most tolerable afternoon. Ladies, I shall make note of the date of our next meeting.’”

  Seth grinned. “You do a fine Lavinia imitation.”

  Lily sobered. “I do wonder how difficult it must be for her to make such a dramatic transition. I know how I felt when I went to St. Louis. Everything was strange and unnerving. For all of Aunt Lavinia’s outward show of confidence, I sense her usual customs and behaviors aren’t serving her well here, and she knows it.”

  “Jelly good, Unca?” Mattie asked, her mouth smeared with raspberry jam.

  “Very good, Miss Mattie.” Momentarily diverted by his niece, Seth returned to the discussion. “Rose was full of trepidation regarding Mrs. Dupree.”

  “She’s concerned primarily on Alf’s behalf.”

  “I know.” Seth ground his teeth. “Alf has done nothing to the woman. Surely, she will come to see how important he is to Rose.”

  “I will tell you what I told Rose. Let’s see how time may alter all of our opinions.”

  “Good advice.”

  “Speaking of Lavinia, she has asked a favor of you or Caleb. She would like one of you to take her for a tour of the surrounding countryside.”

  Seth recoiled, imagining himself escorting the intimidating Lavinia about the county. “Caleb already knows her. He can do it.”

  “Oh, no, my dear brother-in-law. That’s exactly why you are the chosen one. You need to get better acquainted. You are already close to Rose and Alf. Lavinia needs to understand what a fine man you are.”

  Narrowing his eyes and suddenly feeling every bit the Goliath of his schoolboy days, he glared at his sister-in-law. “What do Rose and Alf have to do with anything?”

  Maddeningly, Lily seemed about to erupt with laughter once again. “I’m surprised you can even ask such a question. You would be a dreadful poker player. Anyone can see you’re a few weeks shy of a full-blown courtship with my sister.”

  A full-blown courtship! Seth fumbled for a way to divert Lily from such a preposterous notion. “I never play poker.”