~*~
Seth relaxed in his favorite chair that evening and let his mind roam. He drifted across the street and saw Abigail’s face in his mind’s eye while his living room blurred out of focus. She was beyond pretty with her blond hair done up with ringlets hanging down about her slender neck. There could be no woman any nicer as she opened her home to a motherless little girl who needed a woman’s influence. He hadn’t met a woman that held his attention so much since his wife’s death. Still, something had been wrong this afternoon.
He thought of their visit to the greenhouse. Had she been so clumsy before? Until that afternoon he hadn’t spent much more than a few minutes with her at any one time. She had run into the table as if she didn’t know it was there. Then, in the greenhouse, as he and Mary Ella walked away to see the poinsettias, he’d looked back to see her walking forward with cautious steps, her hand outstretched. In fact, there’d been several times over the last few weeks when she’d looked near him rather than at him when she spoke. Something was definitely wrong.
Mary Ella ran into the room.
“Whoa, let’s walk, not run.”
“Sorry, Papa.” She flashed a grin at him and set her doll in the middle of the floor before plopping down beside it.
“Does Miss Abigail play dolls with you?”
Mary Ella cocked her head to the side. “Not really. I took Betsy over one day to show her, but Miss Abigail just held her in her hands. We didn’t really play.”
“What do you mean held her in her hands?”
“Like this.” Mary Ella picked up her doll and ran her fingers over the china face and hair.
Seth felt a tightening in his chest. “Miss Abigail doesn’t see very well, does she?”
With the wisdom of a child, Mary Ella sighed. “No, but she’s awfully nice.”
Fear slammed full force into Seth’s heart. Had he been leaving his daughter with a blind woman? Nice? Yes. Beautiful? Definitely. One he had thought he’d like to become better acquainted with? Oh, yes.
But she was sightless. Why hadn’t she told them?
Mary Ella could get hurt over there and Abigail would be helpless.
“I’m sorry, Mary Ella, but I don’t want you going to Miss Abigail’s house anymore.”
“Why, Papa?” Mary Ella clutched her doll close and looked at him with wide, stricken eyes.
He saw the hurt in his daughter’s eyes and felt like the monster he knew she believed him to be. But he couldn’t back down. He wouldn’t knowingly place his precious daughter in danger.
“Because, it isn’t safe there.”
“I won’t get hurt at Miss Abigail’s, Papa, I promise I won’t.” Mary Ella shook her head to emphasize her words. Puddles formed in her eyes.
No matter how much she pleaded, sulked, and cried, he stood firm until she left him to go to her room.
Seth sat in his chair in the silence after Mary Ella’s tantrum and rubbed his forehead. Had he done the right thing? How could he know? Mrs. Grimes appeared at the door. “Mr. Warren, your supper is ready.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Seth went to Mary Ella’s door and called to her. “It’s time to eat.”
Although she wore no smile, she stepped out and followed him to the kitchen. As they sat around the table, she asked, “Papa, do you remember how to pray? Miss Abigail always prays before we eat at her house, even if all we have are cookies and milk.”
Conviction gripped Seth’s soul as he looked across the table at his young daughter. Mary Ella surely didn’t remember much before her mother’s death. He was surprised she remembered that he had at one time prayed before they ate. She probably didn’t remember when church attendance, prayer, and Bible reading were all an important part of their lives. But he remembered and felt the emptiness his memories brought.
He bowed his head and began, “Heavenly Father, we thank Thee….”
Chapter 5
Abigail usually rushed to sleep at night where her dreams brought the gift of sight for a short while. But not tonight. Instead, in her mind’s eye, she relived the scene she made bumping into the table and losing her way in her greenhouse.
She rubbed the tender spot on her hip. No doubt a large purple bruise covered it. Surely Seth and even Mary Ella had noticed her clumsiness and wondered. Did they know she couldn’t see where she was going?
If only she hadn’t been so aware of the man behind her. What had gotten into her to act like a smitten young girl? A girl who could see and had the right to think of men and a life of her own with a sweet child such as Mary Ella. A child who would probably never enter her house again, because her father would want nothing more to do with the blind lady. A tear trailed down her face to her already damp pillow.
~*~
Abigail finished her lunch of beef stew and cornbread. She took her plate to the sink to help Mrs. Marshall when she heard the doorbell ring.
Mrs. Marshall went to the door, and when she returned, her voice held humor. “I found a young scalawag on your front porch, Miss Abigail. She says she’s come to visit.”
Abigail hadn’t realized how much she’d worried about Seth’s reaction to her clumsiness until that moment. She sagged in relief. Surely, he hadn’t noticed or if he had, he was not letting her blindness stand in the way of Mary Ella’s visits.
She smiled toward the child. “I’m so glad you came to see me today, Mary Ella. Is your father with you?”
“No, he didn’t come. Papa is busy so I came to the door all by myself.”
Abigail tried to read the truth from Mary Ella’s carefully chosen words. Dare she ask outright if Seth knew that Mary Ella was there? How she would hate to do anything to stop her young friend’s visits. Although her conscience pricked, she decided to let it pass this time. The less she knew, the less responsible she would be. Besides, she didn’t want to appear too interested in the child’s father. What good would it do to put ideas into Mary Ella’s head? She might think Abigail had taken a fancy to her father, and that would never do.
As one week led into another, Mary Ella arrived at the door each afternoon, always much earlier than she would have if Mr. Warren had brought her after he came home from work. Abigail chided herself for missing him and the visits they’d had. How foolish of her to dream a young girl’s dreams. Mr. Warren would not be interested in her even if she had her sight.
One blustery October day, she and Mary Ella were in the greenhouse. Abigail moved toward the table set against the south wall. “How would you like to have a special flower all your own?”
Mary Ella clapped her hands. “Oh, yes. I’d like that very much.”
“In just a matter of weeks Christmas will be here.” Abigail touched one of the flowerpots, letting her fingers read the special gouges on its edge. “Poinsettias are Christmas flowers. They require special care so they’ll be ready in time for Christ’s birth. Do you think you could take care of this one so it will bloom?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Abigail.” Mary Ella’s voice held a note of breathless wonder.
Abigail smiled toward the little girl. She had grown close to Mary Ella and loved her as if she were her very own child. Or as close as she could imagine having a child of her own.
She reached out and touched the little girl’s shoulders, giving her a quick hug. Mary Ella threw both arms around her waist, squeezing tight. Abigail relished the contact, returning the hug with her heart full to bursting.
Mary Ella’s tight grip loosened, so Abigail let the sweet child go and moved back. She picked up a cloth cover from a pile she kept beside the plants. “Each evening before dinner you must cover the plant with a black cloth and put it in a dark closet. I will give you this one to take with you. Let me show you how.”
Abigail demonstrated covering the plant with the cloth. “Do you have a dark place to put your Poinsettia?”
“Yes, ma’am, in my room I have a closet. It gets really black dark in there when the door is closed.”
“That sou
nds fine. Each morning after breakfast take the plant out and set it in a sunny window. Can you do that?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Abigail. I can.”
With Mary Ella’s assurance, Abigail handed the pot to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Miss Abigail.” Mary Ella’s footsteps sounded different.
Abigail smiled. They were quicker, more sure. The child must be strutting off with her new responsibility. “Mary Ella, wait so I can get the door for you.”
She held the door open even after her visitor went through. “You be careful crossing the street.”
“I will. I always look.” Mary Ella had more than enough confidence. Too bad her father didn’t.”
Abigail stood in the open doorway listening to the afternoon sounds. When she no longer heard Mary Ella’s footsteps, she listened for anything that might represent a danger to her, but nothing presented itself. Seth surely had forbidden Mary Ella’s visits. She’d assumed that from the start, but what could she do? Telling Mary Ella to stay away would tear her heart out. Hers and Mary Ella’s, too.
She sighed. Sending the Poinsettia home with the child served two purposes. Mary Ella would learn the responsibility of caring for another living thing. And Seth would know where his daughter had been when he saw the gift from across the street.
~*~
Abigail assumed the poinsettia would stop Mary Ella’s visits, but the following afternoon, she came back. Abigail met her at the door. “Mary Ella, where is your father?”
“At work.” A small voice answered.
Abigail sat in the rocking chair and touched Mary Ella’s arm where she stood beside her. “Sweetheart, I love having you here. I would miss you terribly if you never came, but I don’t want you getting into trouble. And I don’t want you to disobey your father.”
“It’s okay, Miss Abigail.” Mary Ella leaned against the chair arm. “Papa doesn’t mind if we visit. He said you’re a very nice lady and pretty, too.”
Abigail’s cheeks grew warm, so she turned away. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to discuss such things. If the man couldn’t keep track of his own daughter, why should she be required to? How long would it take for him to find the poinsettia, anyway?
~*~
Seth walked down the sidewalk toward home. As usual, when he turned the corner leading to his house, he looked toward the residence and connecting greenhouse across the street. Only twice in the last several weeks had he caught a glimpse of Abigail, but those odds didn’t stop him from trying for a third sighting. Disappointment caught him unaware when she didn’t appear on the porch or in the yard.
What was it about her that drew him like a magnet? He knew he should not be thinking of her, yet he found her intruding on his thoughts more and more often. Had he been too hasty in keeping Mary Ella away only because Abigail was blind?
He mounted the steps to his house and went inside. “Mary Ella, where are you?”
She usually met him at the door. His heart constricted when she didn’t answer right away. He started to call again, but she came skipping down the hall from her room.
“Hi, Papa.” Her wide smile of welcome eased his fears. She ran to him with her arms open. He held her close, letting his hand caress the silken strands of hair hanging down her back. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t.
“So, what have you been doing today?” He asked.
“Nothing much. What did you do?” She looked up at him with sparkles of mischief dancing in her dark eyes.
He laughed and tweaked her nose. “What do you think I’ve been doing? Working is about all I have time for during the day.”
“Me, too.” Her lower lip stuck out. “It’s really boring around here.”
“I’ll see that Mrs. Grimes gives you more chores then.”
“I’m not that bored.” She shook her head and ran back toward her room.
He chuckled as he picked up the newspaper and relaxed in his favorite chair. It was good to be home in the peace and quiet. His gaze traveled down the front page, but a certain blonde with beautiful, but sightless, blue eyes seemed to cover the print no matter where he looked. She frowned at him, accusing him of judging her when she was faultless.
He folded the newspaper and laid it aside. Then he leaned his head back and let the memory of their short conversations fill his mind. He’d told her he was originally from Massachusetts, but his parents had moved to Michigan when he was still a boy. She said her family had always lived in Missouri or Kansas, but her great-grandparents came from Ohio as a young married couple. She’d looked into his face then as they talked. He thought she could see him, but she’d never seen him or Mary Ella. Not once.
“Mr. Warren.” Mrs. Grimes appeared at the doorway leading into the dining room. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Grimes. I’ll get Mary Ella.” Seth stood and stretched before turning toward his daughter’s room.
He tapped on the door and opened it. Mary Ella slammed her closet door shut and sprang to her feet with an expression so full of guilt, he almost laughed.
“Mary Ella, what’s in the closet?”
“Nothing.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take a look, will you?”
He stepped into the room. She jumped in front of her closet with both hands behind her back, leaning against the door.
Seth folded his arms across his chest and frowned at his young daughter. “Mary Ella, what is in that closet?”
She shrugged with a wide-eyed innocent look. “Nothing much.”
“Nothing much, huh?Such as?”
“Just a flower.”
“A flower?” He watched her nod, her expression again full of guilt. Why would she hide a flower from him? Why, unless…
“Mary Ella, have you been to see Miss Abigail?”
She looked toward her feet. Obviously Miss Abigail drew his daughter as much as she drew him. What was it about that woman? How many times in the past several weeks had he wanted to cross the street? That very afternoon he’d walked past hoping for a glimpse of Abigail. He missed their chats at the door. He missed her laughter and her blue eyes sparkling when she looked at him. How could she be blind with such beautiful eyes?
Because of her, he prayed before their meals. He’d started reading his Bible again and often spent time in prayer, when before he had turned from the things of God. Her influence, although subtle, had reached across the street through the love she’d shown his young daughter.
As he watched Mary Ella’s guilt, he realized the bitterness over his wife’s death was gone. Fear no longer had a stranglehold on him. Mary Ella had been crossing the street without his knowledge, but the mind-numbing fear he expected didn’t rush in and twist his insides. Had he finally come to the place where he could turn over to God’s capable hands his fear of losing his daughter? What had caused this change in his heart?
Without doubt, Abigail, and Mary Ella’s visits to her, deserved credit for opening his eyes. His heart drummed with the realization of his attraction to her. Abigail was everything he dreamed of in a wife except for her blindness, and why should that be a problem? She had so much more to offer. He’d been alone for over four years. Maybe God had led him and Mary Ella to Abigail.
He motioned for his daughter. “Come, let’s go eat Mrs. Grimes delicious dinner.”
Mary Ella ate through dinner with scarcely a word. He’d ignored her flower and her disobedience. They would have a talk later, but for now, he had too much else on his mind. After dinner, he shoved his chair back.
“Mary Ella, why don’t you help Mrs. Grimes clean the kitchen. I’m going outside for a few minutes. I’ll be back in time to tuck you into bed.”
Mary Ella shot him a puzzled look, but she didn’t challenge his request. She stood and began clearing the table, her face turned away. If she thought she’d gotten off without punishment, she’d learn better later. He made a mental note to address the issue of obedience after he found out exactly what had been going on behind his
back.
Seth grabbed his coat from the coat rack by the front door and stepped out on the porch. He looked across the street and headed in that direction. A smile parted his lips when he saw movement in the lighted greenhouse.
Chapter 6
With the setting sun as a backdrop behind the greenhouse, Seth watched the silhouette that he knew must be Abigail walking from one flower to another. He saw and marveled. She moved with a grace that few sighted women had. No wonder he hadn’t recognized her blindness right away. He tapped on the door, and she swung toward the sound.
Not wanting to frighten her, he called out. “Miss Stevens, it’s Seth Warren. May I speak with you a moment?”
He saw her through the window, as she came to the door and flung it open without hesitation. “Is Mary Ella all right?”
Seth chuckled, thinking of his daughter’s guilt, and hoped her conscience reprimanded her at that moment. He opened his mouth to ask about Mary Ella’s visits, but the expression of concern on Abigail’s face stopped him. She cared for his daughter. Really cared in a way few women would for a child who wasn’t her own.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, she’s fine. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I’d like to speak to you.”
“Speak to me?” She repeated.
“Yes, about Mary Ella. Well, not really about her. I’ve been thinking of getting in some early Christmas shopping. Could I persuade you to accompany Mary Ella and me this Saturday afternoon?”
Her hand flew to her throat as if in surprise. A sort of wistful smile touched her lips. “I doubt you would want my company, Mr. Warren.”
“If I had not wanted you to go with us, I wouldn’t have asked, Miss Stevens.”
“Oh.” She seemed flustered and Seth smiled.
“Please, say you’ll come. I know Mary Ella will be pleased. She thinks quite highly of you.”
“As I am very fond of her, but still, I don’t think you understand. I don’t do well in public.” Abigail kept her face turned from him.
Lesson of the Poinsettia Page 4