Bride of Second Chances

by Nordin, Ruth Ann

  “I love it more than Minnesota. It’s peaceful and quiet out here. I am wondering what it’s like to be married to a preacher.”

  Jane chuckled. “Despite what people think, Jeremy’s not perfect. I used to think he was because of his profession, but when we had our first argument, I was relieved. I no longer felt like I was living with someone who never sinned. It’s easier to relate to someone who’s human, you know? A lot of people request to talk to him, so he stays busy and can be called out in the middle of the night. I don’t mind all of that, but sometimes it’s hard for me to think of what to say to some parishioners after a service. Most of the time, I stay by his side.”

  Lucy gave her a sly smile. “You should have Eliza with you. She has the gift for talking.”

  Eliza sighed good-naturedly. “It’s a blessing and a curse. Sometimes I think I put some people to sleep with my ramblings.”

  “Nonsense,” Lucy replied. “You make even the most boring story sound interesting.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not. Are you saying I talk about boring things?” she teased.

  “Oh, you’re silly. Of course not, but you could talk about painting a fence and make it sound like fun. You and Tom Sawyer have that in common. You could talk anyone into anything.”

  “Yes, but he did that to get out of working, if I recall.”

  “He did.” As they neared the shed, Lucy asked, “Have you read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Jane?”

  “No, I can’t say I have,” Jane replied.

  “Well, if you want, I can lend you my copy.”

  They stopped in front of the shed and Eliza turned to them. “I thought it was fine. The Scarlet Letter was much better, but The Adventures of Tom Sawyer is preferable to that horrible Romeo and Juliet book.”

  “What was wrong with Romeo and Juliet?” Jane asked.

  “Well, I thought I was going to get a romance, and while there was a romance, the two ended up committing suicide. I prefer a happy ending when I read. Granted, life doesn’t always have a happy ending, but when I read, I read to escape.” Eliza paused and smiled as she placed her hand on the doorknob. “However, I will say that we’ve all had our happy endings, haven’t we? We have good men in our lives, and that’s important.”

  “Yes, it is,” Lucy agreed. “We’re very lucky.”

  Eliza nodded as she turned the knob, and as they entered the shed, Jane welcomed the warmth coming from the small box stove in the room. She stomped her feet on the mat by the door so she wouldn’t trace snow through the shed.

  Eliza set the tray with the coffee pot on the table next to the door. “We thought you men might like a snack after all your hard work.”

  “I smell cookies,” Brian said from where he sanded a chair leg.

  “Yes, but can you guess what’s in them?”

  “Oatmeal?”

  Jane’s eyes grew wide. Brian could pick up on things with surprising accuracy. John stood up and made a sign that she learned meant ‘thank you’ before he took the coffee pot to pour coffee into the three cups.

  Jeremy also stood and went over to Jane. “I don’t think there’s any danger of me leaving the ministry to make furniture. I messed up with staining one of the chairs. Don’t even get me started on my attempt to sand down one of the arms. John redid both so you can’t tell where I goofed.”

  She smiled and handed him a couple of cookies. “We all have our strengths. Yours is in front of the congregation.”

  “It’s easier speaking to a group than fiddling with a piece of wood.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Brian called out from where he sat.

  John handed Jeremy a cup of coffee before he signed to Eliza.

  “John says you did fine, Jeremy,” Eliza said. “It takes time to learn how to make furniture.”

  “You’re being too kind,” Jeremy replied with a smile. “I don’t have a knack for it.”

  John waved his hand to dismiss Jeremy’s protest and brought Brian a cup and some cookies. Then he returned to Eliza for his own cup and cookies.

  “Think of it this way,” Lucy began, “if you made furniture, then who would give the sermons?”

  “True,” Jeremy replied.

  “I wonder if Preacher Brown would be willing to let you give this Sunday’s sermon,” Eliza said before she bit into a cookie. “I’ve love to listen to you.”

  Jane noted the look of pleasure on Jeremy’s face and was glad his mother chose to give him such a high compliment. “Maybe we could ask,” she told him.

  “He’s a temporary preacher, so I’m sure he would,” Eliza added. “He’s getting up in years and plans to return to where he grew up in Iowa to be with his younger brother and his family.”

  “Isn’t there a preacher due to come in who will stay?” Jane asked.

  “Not yet,” Eliza replied. “Preacher Brown will stay until one does. He’s waiting for word to come in.”

  Jane glanced at Jeremy but figured it was best to ask him what he thought about requesting this town to minister to when they were alone. There was nothing tying her to Lincoln, and she didn’t think there was anything holding Jeremy there either. A new start might be nice, and she enjoyed talking to Eliza and Lucy. It’d been a long time since she felt comfortable talking to a group of women. For sure, it was refreshing after overhearing what Marcy thought of her.

  Jeremy set his empty cup down. “When Jane and I return to town today, we’ll pay Preacher Brown a visit and see what he thinks of me giving a sermon on Sunday.”

  Eliza’s smile widened. “I hope he says yes.”

  The rest indicated their agreement and chatted a little longer before the women returned the empty coffee pot and dishes to the house.

  When Jeremy and Jane left in the buggy Addy and Frank let them borrow, she turned to him. “What do you think of being here? Do you like it?”

  He took her hand in his and said, “Yes, I do. My mother is a nice woman. I’m glad I got a chance to meet her.”

  Sensing his hesitation, she asked, “What is it?”

  He shrugged. “I keep wondering how she became a prostitute. How does a girl at fourteen end up at the top of a saloon giving her son away for adoption? I mean, I understand how she got in the family way since it was the result of the business, but didn’t she have family she could have gone to instead of running to a saloon for employment?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to ask?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. Do you think she’ll tell me?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “Whatever the story is, I’m sure it’s not pleasant. There’s a reason why she’s told me everything else but that.”

  “If it’s important for you to know, then you should ask.”

  “It might not be my business.”

  “No, it might not,” she softly agreed. “You’ll have to do what you feel is right.”

  After a couple minutes of silence, he cleared his throat. “I suppose we should make a stop at Preacher Brown’s before we return to the boarding house.”

  She squeezed his hand, understanding that asking his mother about her past would have to be a decision only he could make.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  That Sunday, Jane sat between Eliza and Lucy while Jeremy gave the sermon. Brian sat next to Lucy, and Eliza sat next to John. It reminded her of when her parents were alive. She’d sit between her parents, her sister, and her brother and his family. Sometimes she missed how things used to be, but as she glanced at Lucy and Eliza, she felt a sense of peace at how things turned out. When she caught the unshed tears and proud smile on Eliza’s face, she touched Eliza’s hand.

  Eliza looked at her and brushed the tears away. “There he is talking about finding joy and I’m crying,” she whispered.

  “Yes, but you’re crying out of joy,” she softly replied.

  Eliza nodded. “I never thought I’d hear my son speak, much less see what a fine man he turned out
to be. God has blessed me more than I deserve.”

  “He’s done the same for me.”

  Squeezing her hand, Eliza smiled at her before they turned their attention back to Jeremy.

  After the sermon, Jane stood next to Jeremy as people came up to talk to him, as she was used to doing. To her surprise, Eliza stood with her and introduced her to the people in town, often throwing in a charming story to help Jane remember who was who. Lucy and Charlotte joined them a little later while Brian went with John to talk to some of the men in town. Jane tried to remember the names of John’s brothers, but the men looked a lot alike so it was hard to keep them separated.

  “Are you overwhelmed by everyone?” Lucy quietly asked Jane while Eliza and Addy talked to Charity and Daphne.

  “No. Eliza does a good job of making people feel comfortable in new situations,” Jane replied.

  “She does, doesn’t she? That’s one of the things I love most about her,” Lucy said.

  Jane watched while Eliza fussed over Charlotte’s bonnet. “She loves being a grandmother.”

  “She’s already started on a blanket for our babies, but don’t tell her I told you. She’s even stitching in the month they’re going to be born on the blankets. She figures if she gets an early start on them, she has plenty of time to correct any mistakes she makes.”

  “That’s nice of her.”

  “I know Jeremy can’t just pick up and move anywhere he wants, but it’d be nice if he could be our preacher. Then our children could grow up together and be friends. You know, I did have a sister, but we didn’t get along. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime, but I often wished she and I had the kind of relationship we do.”

  “I like being with you, too,” Jane confessed. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a good friendship with your sister.”

  “It’s too bad I didn’t get to meet Rebecca. She sounds like she was a lovely person.”

  “She was. I suppose a part of me will always miss her.”

  “That’s a good thing, Jane. I know it isn’t good she’s no longer here, but it’s good that you had the kind of friendship where you miss her as much as you do.”

  Jane nodded, thinking to tell Lucy that she was sorry that Lucy didn’t have fond memories of her sister. Lucy didn’t have to say it. It was evident in the dismissive tone in Lucy’s voice when she referred to her sister.

  “Maybe God brought us together so we could be sisters. We are sisters-in-law, after all,” Lucy said.

  Jane considered Lucy’s comment. The timing of Rebecca’s death, her marriage to Jeremy, Edith’s move to Omaha, finding Eliza, and this town needing a preacher at this moment in time... Perhaps the incidences that didn’t seem to connect were all a part of a bigger plan God had in their lives. And if it turned out that Jeremy could come here to shepherd this church, then that would only confirm it. The pieces all fit nicely.

  Eliza and Addy headed over to her and Lucy so she tucked aside her thoughts for the time being.

  ***

  Two days later, Jeremy took Jane back out to John and Eliza’s residence. On the way there, he ran through the familiar debate in his mind. If he was going to broach the subject of how his mother ended up in prostitution, it would have to be today. The next day, the stagecoach was due in town, and he had to get back to Lincoln. He knew the subject he wished to discuss with his mother would be a sensitive one and would be best done in private.

  Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers over the reins he held in his hands as the horse led them onto John and Eliza’s property. “Jane, I have to know how she ended up in a saloon at such a young age.” The confession wasn’t an easy one to make, but of all people he could tell, it was Jane. She knew more about him than anyone else, and she didn’t judge him for his decisions. He glanced at her. “I figure John and Brian will be working on the chairs this time of day. I don’t know if Lucy will be at the house, but I think it’d be better that I talk to my mother alone.”

  “Lucy mentioned wanting to take me to the creek so I could see her favorite spot. We’ll do that, and I’ll go to her house until you come for me.”

  Looking at her kind eyes, he smiled. “You always seem to know what I need.”

  She shrugged. “I think you need to know this so you can move forward, even if it’s not pleasant.”

  It couldn’t be pleasant. Not if his mother didn’t tell him that part of her life when she made it a habit of talking about her childhood with her parents, her life with John, and her life with Brian and Lucy.

  Instead of going to John and Eliza’s house, he opted to take the buggy to Brian and Lucy’s house. Lucy came onto the porch as they neared her home. Once he pulled up to a stop, Lucy bounded down the steps with Charlotte at her heels.

  “I’ll get myself out,” Jane told him as she stepped out of the buggy. “Good morning, Lucy. Is it alright if I stay here with you for awhile?”

  “Of course, it is,” Lucy said as Charlotte lifted her arms up so Jane would pick her up. “We can talk about things that would bore men.”

  Noting the twinkle in Lucy’s eye, Jeremy replied, “Then it’s a good thing I won’t be around.”

  “Take your time,” Jane told him.

  He nodded his thanks to them and led the horse toward Eliza and John’s. When he reached the barn, he took his time in unhitching the horse and putting it in the stall. This was it. Tucking his hands into his coat pockets, he strolled the length between the barn and the house, not bothering to step around patches of melting snow. He reached the kitchen door and knocked on it.

  He only had to wait for five seconds before Eliza opened the door with a hand towel in her hands. “Morning, Jeremy,” she greeted as she threw it over her right shoulder and opened the screen door for him. “Where’s Jane? Is she feeling alright?”

  “Jane’s fine. She’s visiting Lucy.” He cleared his throat. “I hope that’s alright. I wanted to speak to you alone.”

  A worried frown crossed her face and for a moment, he thought she was going to say no, but she nodded and waved him in. “I just finished with the dishes so I have time to talk. Would you like something to drink? I was thinking of making some tea. Every once in a while, I like a break from coffee.”

  He stepped into the house and wiped his feet on the rug by the door. “Tea would be fine.”

  She closed the door and motioned for him to sit down while she filled the teapot with water.

  Now that he was alone with her, he didn’t know where to begin. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took off his hat and smoothed his hair before he hung his coat and hat on the coat tree. With a deep breath, he moved forward and sat at the kitchen table. He rested his hands on his knees and tried to determine the best way to bring up the subject.

  Turning from the cook stove where she set the teapot, she softly asked, “You want to know about your birth?”

  His face flushed from partial embarrassment given the sensitive nature of the discussion. “I figured that out. You were at the saloon when I was born. It’s not hard to deduct what happened there.” He cleared his throat and forced himself to make eye contact. “I wondered how you ended up in a saloon. I was born when you were fourteen. I can’t imagine why your parents would allow you to go there in the first place.”

  She looked away from him, choosing, instead, to stare at her hands which gripped the chair in front of her. She remained standing, a signal that this conversation was just as hard, if not harder, for her than it was for him. “What you’re asking is how you were born,” she said in a tone so low he barely heard her.

  His eyebrows furrowed. What did her becoming a prostitute have to do with him?

  In a louder voice, she continued, “I ended up in the saloon because I was carrying you.”

  “I don’t understand. You mean one of the men who…came to your room…wasn’t my father?”

  “No, none of them were.” She glanced at the teapot and took it off the cook stove to set aside. “I can’t focus on the tea w
hile we’re having this talk.” She wiped her hands on her apron before she pulled out her chair and sat down. Squaring her shoulders, she released her breath and finally looked at him. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but I have to warn you, it’s not pretty.”

  “I gathered as much,” he whispered.

  “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I still love you, and I’m glad you found me.”

  His stomach tensed. He came this far. He wasn’t going to back out now. “You’ve prepared me.”

  “After my parents died, my mother’s sister and her husband took me in.”

  “Your aunt and uncle?”

  “Yes. That’s another way of putting it.” She adjusted the tablecloth and folded her hands in front of her, her knuckles white even as she maintained eye contact with him. “My uncle wasn’t exactly a good man. I never felt safe around him, and I avoided him as much as I could. But…well…that didn’t stop him from coming into my bedroom at night.” Her voice trailed off and she turned her attention to her hands.

  Shock prevented him from telling her to stop. He knew. She didn’t have to continue at this point, but he couldn’t speak so she did.

  “I told him no, but what can a fourteen-year-old do against a man?” Her voice wavered and she grabbed the towel off of her shoulder so she could wipe her eyes.

  The knots in Jeremy’s gut tightened. “I get the idea.”

  She sniffed back her tears. “I hid it for as long as I could, but my aunt figured out I was with child. She refused to accept it was her husband who did it. They blamed the boys in the neighborhood. They decided to get rid of me, and he sold me to the saloon owner in Omaha. That’s how I ended up in prostitution.”

  He wasn’t sure of what to think. He’d heard terrible things in his time as a preacher, but he’d never heard anything this awful.

  “The owner wasn’t happy when he realized I was with child, but the Grahams happened to find out about my situation and offered to take you and raise you as their own. The owner agreed to it, and so when the time came for me to give birth, they came to get you and took you home.” She brushed away more tears from her cheeks and sighed. “They were such nice people. I knew they would give you a good life. It didn’t matter how you were conceived. I loved you, and it broke my heart that day when you were born and I wasn’t allowed to hold you, not even once. The doctor handed you to Mrs. Graham and the owner hurried your parents out of the saloon. Your parents sent me a letter and a picture of you, and I knew you were safe and loved, and that was what mattered. They did right by you. You became a good man. A mother couldn’t be prouder.”