Scent of Magnolia

by Frances Devine

  “Of course I want you to have a proper engagement period, and I’ll need to get moved and start looking for some land for a house. I wouldn’t ask you to live in the rooms over the store.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said then wondered again if her words were too bold.

  “But I’d mind for you.” He peered into her eyes. “I don’t even know if you have family to consider.”

  She shook her head. “My father died when I was thirteen, and my mother passed away five years ago. I was an only child. Do you have family other than Molly?”

  “No, what family members I have left are in Ireland.”

  She reached up and smoothed back the lock of hair that had fallen across his eye. “I love your hair.”

  He laughed. “You like this carrot-colored thicket?”

  “It isn’t carrot colored. It’s a beautiful deep, dark red and it goes perfectly with your eyes.”

  “Well, my darling, I only hope our children look like you. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

  She bit her lip, fighting off embarrassment, then laughed. “I guess that must be a compliment.”

  “Very much so. You’re beautiful, Helen. Don’t you know that?” His eyes spoke even more than his words.

  “Well, thank you. I’m glad you think so.” She thought a minute. “I’ll ask Molly to be my bridesmaid.”

  “She’ll love that.” His tender look caused butterflies to come alive in her stomach.

  “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

  “Would the end of summer be too soon?” His hopeful look almost persuaded her.

  “I’d sort of like an autumn wedding, if you don’t mind. It’s my favorite time of year.” Although Georgia autumns didn’t have the lovely colors and crisp days she’d grown up with. Still. . .the thought of walking down the aisle in a wedding dress in the sweltering heat of a Georgia August was totally unbearable. Imagine if her face should perspire and she couldn’t even blot it with a handkerchief.

  “Then autumn, it is. You set the date and make the arrangements you like. Don’t worry about the expense. I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” she retorted. “My parents left me with a tidy little dowry of sorts. It will do nicely to pay for the wedding and then some.”

  He laughed. “Are you always this stubborn?”

  She threw him a teasing smile. “Oh no, sometimes I’m much worse. Want to call off the wedding?”

  “Not a chance.” He grinned. “I like stubborn women.”

  “Sometimes I’m very easy to get along with.” She smiled, wondering what he’d say next. Not really caring, just wanting to hear his voice.

  “I know.” He tweaked her chin. “I like you that way even better.”

  The afternoon flew by. Helen felt as though they were the only two people on earth. Then they heard Albert coming up the lane, singing an old gospel hymn.

  Helen gasped. “They must be stopping for the day. Have we been out here that long?”

  “Doesn’t seem that long.” Patrick sighed and rose, helping her to her feet. “I think we’d better tell Molly the news before I go, don’t you?”

  “Of course. You don’t think I can keep this secret until next weekend, do you?”

  They strolled up the lane hand in hand until Helen gently pulled hers away.

  They waited until after supper to tell Molly. They went out on the front porch, and surrounded by the sound of chirping birds and blossom scented air, they told her the news.

  “Oh, Papa. Oh, Miss Edwards. I’ve been praying you’d fall in love and get married.” She took a deep breath. “Does this mean you’ll be my mother?”

  “Molly,” Helen heard her own voice tremble, “I know you had a wonderful mother and I would never try to take her place, but I do want to be a mother to you. If you want me to.”

  Molly threw her arms around Helen. “I do. I really do.” She pulled back and looked up into Helen’s face. “Will I still have to call you Miss Edwards?”

  Helen gave a shaky little laugh. “Well, you’ll have to call me Miss Edwards until the wedding. After that, you’ll call me Mrs. Flannigan in school and you can decide what you want to call me at home.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  Patrick gave Molly a hug. “Yes, you have plenty of time to think about it. Do you think you can keep it a secret for a little while? Just until we get a chance to announce it?”

  The stricken look on Molly’s face told the answer very clearly. “Can’t you announce it now? So I can tell Trudy and Margaret?”

  Helen glanced at Patrick and met his waiting eyes. He grinned. “I guess there’s no getting around it.”

  Helen laughed. “Let’s tell P.J. and Hannah and Charles anyway. Oh, and Howard and Felicity. So they won’t hear the news from the children.”

  They found Hannah and Felicity in the parlor with Virgie and told them the news. Virgie didn’t say I told you so, but the smile on her face spoke volumes.

  After they’d shared the news with the others, Molly kissed her father good night and went upstairs.

  Helen followed Patrick out to the porch. Their tender farewell left Helen in tears.

  “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.”

  “They’re happy tears. I promise. I’ll be fine.”

  She stood there while he went for his horse then watched him ride away. But this time, she knew he’d be coming back, not just to Molly but to her.

  Her prayers that night were mingled with laughter and tears. Thank you, Lord. You’ve given me my heart’s desire.

  ❧

  Patrick stepped into his new building. The previous owner had left it clean and in good repair. There really wasn’t too much he’d need to do to ready it for its transformation into a leather shop. He missed the smell of oiled leather, and his hand, mind, and heart were eager to get back to their trade. Well, his mind and heart were more focused on Helen right now, but he was determined to build the business up. A man couldn’t be truly happy unless he provided for his family. And he intended to do just that.

  He worked until midnight, getting the existing shelves into the position he wanted them. The glass-doored cabinets were a bonus, since the ones he used for display in the Atlanta shop were built-in. So this was one expense he’d not have.

  He went upstairs and took another look at the living quarters. There were three small rooms. He didn’t want to crowd Molly and Helen into such a small space, but it would be fine for him while he was looking for a homeplace.

  ❧

  The Atlanta house looked small and forlorn with all its furniture and pretty knickknacks sold or packed away. He’d gotten rid of all the furniture. He couldn’t expect Helen to live among Maureen’s things. He’d already bought a few pieces of furniture for his rooms above the shop and he’d buy more for the new house whenever he had one.

  He’d saved some things for Molly, including the clock that had belonged to Maureen’s family and the linens and china she’d brought from Ireland. Molly would want those when she was a grown-up woman. Just for a moment the familiar twinge bit at him. But quickly he shoved it aside. His grief was gone. At most, what he’d just felt was nostalgia. Maureen was his first love and always would be. But the love he felt for Helen, though different, was just as strong, perhaps stronger in its own way.

  He ran his hand over the mantel he’d built the year they’d arrived here. He spoke, slipping back into the brogue he’d tried so hard to leave behind. “I’ll be leavin’ ya now, lass. But, I’ll be seein’ you again someday. And you’ll meet Helen, too, and I know you’ll be lovin’ her. Just you wait and see.”

  Turning his back on the place where he’d loved and lost Maureen, he shut the door behind him and got on his horse to head for the train station for the last time.

  nineteen

  December 1892

  Helen jumped out of bed and hurried to turn the page on the huge calendar that hung behind her washstand. The first day of De
cember. Just two weeks and two days until her wedding day. Butterflies banged against her stomach. She giggled. She did a lot of that lately. But why shouldn’t a woman giggle when her wedding approached. Even if she had turned thirty-three last month.

  She ran her finger down the calendar. The children would be dismissed for the Christmas break on the sixteenth. She pressed her fingers against her lips and then allowed her fingers to rest on the eighteenth. She was so glad her wedding fell on a Sunday. They planned to have the wedding at the church at two o’clock. She had no idea where they’d spend the night. Patrick said he wanted to surprise her. They’d leave for Savannah the next morning for a short honeymoon and be back the Friday before Christmas. Their first Christmas as a family. Molly was so delighted she didn’t mind staying at the school while they were away. The teachers and other students would all be gone. But Felicity and Virgie would take good care of her and Selma had promised to let her help bake cookies and pies for the remaining staff’s Christmas holiday. And of course, Virgie’s small grandson would be there a lot as always.

  She did her morning ablutions and got dressed. After tucking her hair into a bun, she grabbed the stack of graded essays from her writing desk. She’d take them upstairs to her classroom before going down to breakfast.

  She arrived at the dining room door just as Sissy arrived with a fresh urn of hot coffee. The girl smiled and motioned with her head for Helen to precede her through the open doorway.

  The buffet was already set with breakfast foods, including Helen’s favorites—ham, fried eggs, and grits dripping in butter. She added a biscuit to her plate for good measure and sat down. Sissy brought her a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you. I could have gotten that.”

  “Yes, miss.” She pressed her lips together then grinned. “But you already sittin’ down and I was up. Anyway, you goin’ be pourin’ enough coffee once you is married to that Irishman.”

  Friendly laughter rippled across the table. Everyone seemed to think it was funny that the prim and proper Helen was marrying the wild-haired Irishman. Well, she’d show them.

  “Actually, Sissy, I thought I’d turn all the domestic duties over to Patrick.”

  This time, after a shocked instance of silence, uproarious laughter burst out, followed by Molly’s dismayed voice. “You mean Papa is going to do the cooking?”

  Uh oh, she may have gone too far. “No, of course not, Molly. I was only teasing. I promise I’ll cook and clean and do laundry.”

  Molly blew a breath of air out. “Oh, good, but you won’t have to clean or do laundry. Papa is going to hire a maid.” She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh no. That was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let on that I know.” Helen glanced around the room and placed a finger to her lips. “No one else will tell, either.”

  That wasn’t the only secret. Patrick had found them land with a small but nicely built house already on it. He’d been working on it for the last three months, and Helen hadn’t been allowed to see whatever improvements he’d made. She had a sneaky hunch he might be adding a room but wasn’t sure. Ordinarily, curiosity would be getting intense, but with the excitement of planning for the wedding and the birth of Abigail’s baby daughter, there hadn’t been a lot of time to dwell on it.

  Baby Celeste had been born in early October and had quickly stolen everyone’s heart. Abigail looked nearly as trim as she had at her wedding. She had agreed to be Helen’s matron of honor.

  After breakfast, Helen went to her classroom. Within a few minutes her first hour students filed in.

  Lily Ann took her desk near the front, so Helen could help her with braille in between her other teaching duties. Abigail had decided not to return to teaching and Helen didn’t blame her. P.J. was looking for a braille instructor since they were expecting two more blind students the following year, including an eleven-year-old deaf-blind boy.

  The thought of living with a double handicap like that was overwhelming to Helen, and she had no idea how anyone could teach him. But on the other hand, who would have thought a blind child like Lily Ann could have learned sign language, which she insisted on doing? The deaf children signed in her hand or finger spelled and it worked quite well. It had opened more communication between Lily Ann and the other children. But of course, Lily Ann also had her hearing.

  A ripple of excitement ran through her at the thought of helping more students. Of course, if she and Patrick had children of their own, she would need to retire from teaching, at least until they were older.

  “Miss Edwards!” Phoebe’s broken speech brought her back to the present. She was having a little trouble focusing today.

  “Yes, Phoebe?” She stepped over to the child’s desk.

  “Bobby and Sonny keep pulling my hair.” She was nearly in tears.

  Helen glanced at Bobby, who sat behind Phoebe, and Sonny, who sat beside Bobby. Both had guilty but gleeful looks on their faces. She motioned for them both to follow her and led them out the door and into the hallway.

  “All right, boys.” She spoke while she signed. The little rascals wouldn’t be able to say they didn’t hear her. They were both proficient in sign and lip reading. “I know those long blond braids are tempting to pull. It’s probably a lot of fun.”

  They both gave vigorous nods.

  “But did it ever cross your minds that those braids are attached to Phoebe’s scalp and it hurts when you yank on them?”

  They looked at each other then looked away.

  Bobby spoke first. “I didn’t think about that. I won’t do it anymore, Miss Edwards. I promise.”

  “I won’t, either.” Sonny made a crossing motion in the general vicinity of his heart.

  “I think you need to both apologize to Phoebe.”

  Dread crossed their faces.

  “In front of everbody?” Bobby’s eyes widened.

  “Right now would be a good time.” She tapped her foot and gave them a stern look.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

  The boys shuffled into the classroom and marched back to Phoebe’s desk. After apologizing, they took their seats.

  “Do you forgive them, Phoebe?” Helen asked the frowning little girl.

  “Yes, I forgive them.” The frown lines became deeper. “But aren’t they going to get a whipping?”

  Helen bit her lip. Apparently Phoebe needed a little teaching on forgiveness.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She tossed a warning glance at both boys. “But if they ever do it again, they’ll go to the director’s office and I don’t know what Miss Wellington might decide to do.”

  Helen returned to her seat, hoping the rest of the day would be uneventful. She couldn’t wait until supper time. Patrick would be here.

  ❧

  Patrick stood back and surveyed the house. He hoped Helen would love it as much as he did. He’d finally had to face the fact that he wasn’t a good enough carpenter to do what he wanted and get it done in time, especially since he also had to run his business. So he’d hired several carpenters to do most of the work for him

  A wide porch stretched across the front of the white frame house wrapping around one side where it met the L from the added room. There was plenty of space to add more rooms if they needed them. Or they could even add a second floor. But for now, he thought it was just about perfect.

  He’d already brought in the furniture he and Helen had picked out. And he’d placed the heirloom clock on the mantel in Molly’s room. He’d let her decide which of Maureen’s other things she wanted to display. He hoped she’d keep them in the cedar chest at the end of her bed until her own wedding.

  He mounted the midnight-black gelding he’d recently purchased. The new carriage and two carriage horses were housed in the barn along with a milk cow. It was a hassle to come out here twice a day to take care of the livestock, but he had found some very good deals which he hadn’t wanted to pass up.

  He rode into town an
d went to his rooms above the shop. His employee, Jim Porter, would move in there this weekend, when Patrick planned to take up residence in the new house.

  He changed and headed for the school. He couldn’t wait to see Helen and Molly. Soon, they’d all be together—a family in their own home.

  ❧

  Helen couldn’t breathe. She gasped. Panic took over and she looked around wildly.

  Abigail gave her a worried look. “Be still and breathe in slowly, then let it out slowly. Now do it again. That’s good. You’re fine. Just a case of nerves.”

  Helen concentrated on slow breathing while Abigail adjusted her veil, drawing it down over her face. “You didn’t fall apart at your wedding.”

  Abigail laughed. “That’s what you think. But I had my mother there and that helped. Just pretend I’m your mother.”

  Helen giggled. “How can I pretend that? You’re five years younger than I am.

  “There, you have your laughter back. You’ll be fine. Especially when you start down the aisle and see Patrick looking at you all gooey eyed.”

  “Gooey eyed?” Helen wailed. “Now I’m going to think of that when I look at him. If I start laughing while walking down the aisle, you’re a dead goose.”

  “I promise you won’t think about anything but Patrick.” She patted the veil. “There, you’re ready. And I hear the music. We need to go to the door to the vestibule so we can see Molly walk in.”

  They peeked in and watched Molly step through the door to the sanctuary. She walked down the aisle in perfect step to the music. Abigail patted Helen on the shoulder and stepped away.

  She took a deep breath. She wondered how long it would take Abigail to walk down the aisle.

  The music got louder and she heard her cue. She stepped on the red carpet and started down the aisle. Lifting her eyes, she looked toward the front of the church. The reverend was at the front and Dr. Trent stood by Patrick’s side. As she looked directly at Patrick, her heart almost stopped. The expression on his face showed adoration and eternal love. She was about to be joined to her dream man. No, better than that. The godly man the Lord had brought into her life. He stepped forward and took her hand. She felt numb and yet tingling with life at the same time. She heard the reading of the vows. She heard herself answer and then Patrick.