For Whom the Roses Grow

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For Whom the Roses Grow Page 17

by Rebekah Blackmore


  “Also, stop it with the ‘ma’am’s, and for goodness sake, call me Cordelia. I am not having my lover call me by my married name.”

  Jo’s eyes widened at that, and the grin dropped from Jo’s face. Had she heard Mrs. Anderson correctly? “Lover?”

  Spots of color appeared on Mrs. And—Cordelia’s washed-out cheeks. “I mean, only if you truly share my interests.” She wrapped her hands around Jo’s shoulders as Jo lifted her and transferred her to the bed. She pulled the still-unmade covers over her legs before motioning for Jo to sit down in the empty space beside her. Jo did as she was asked and sat down, her heart beating in her throat. She hesitated for a moment before scooting back against the wall and wrapping her arm around Mrs. A—Cordelia’s—waist and pulled her close until Cordelia’s face was pressed against the side of Jo’s bosom. She pressed a kiss into the woman’s beautiful scarlet hair before whispering, “I love you, you know.”

  Jo could feel Cordelia smiling against her breast, her grip tightening around Jo’s waist. “I love you too, sweet girl. I have since the moment you opened that insolent mouth of yours and tried to tell me that you were going to be my new nurse.”

  Jo snorted. “I was your new nurse. That is what Dessie and Susanna trained me for, and what you are still paying me for.”

  Cordelia shook her head. “No. I knew as soon as you stepped into my room that you were going to be so much more than that.” She craned her neck and kissed Jo’s jaw. “You stood up to me in a way no one else has, and you genuinely treated me like you cared. All the other nurses Dessie and Susanna dragged into my home? I was just a job to them. Granted, I was rather rude and disrespectful, but even the substantial amount I was repaying them with was not enough to garnish their empathy. But not you, Joanna. You stuck around no matter how wicked I was.”

  Jo blushed, hiding her smile in Cordelia’s hair. “I thought you were beautiful, and I saw how kind you were to Dessie on the first day I was in the house. I thought perhaps you would be kind to me, as well. That day you had me play with your hair until you fell asleep—I was a goner.”

  Cordelia began to say something else, but she was overtaken by a yawn. She nuzzled closer to Jo and made a small, contented sound. Jo glanced down to see that Cordelia’s eyes had drifted shut. Her breathing evened out, and her hand clutched tighter at Jo’s waist. She was mumbling something about the paint studio, and about how Jo needed to see more paintings, but her exact wording was too slurred for Jo to make out.

  Concerned, Jo pressed her lips to Cordelia’s forehead, but her skin was still cool to the touch. She might still be exhausted (and likely would be for a while, while her body was readjusting to having her medication in her system), but at least her fever didn’t spike back up. Jo needed to get her fed, though, and get at least a bit of tea into her system—

  Right then, Cordelia let out a sound that was somewhere between a snore and a growl. Jo couldn’t help but laugh at the sound, kissing Cordelia’s forehead a few more times before moving to lay beside her beloved. She slowly rolled Cordelia onto her side and wrapped her arms around her waist, dropping down to press her front against Cordelia’s back as she, too, was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.

  Feeding Cordelia could wait. For now, Jo was happy simply having the woman she so desperately loved safe in her arms. They still needed to discuss everything, to figure out where exactly Jo fit in Cordelia’s life, but for now, simply knowing that her love was returned was enough.

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  “Dessie! Where are the apples? I wanted to make that pie that Cordelia likes so much.” Jo crouched down in front of the hutch and opened the cabinet doors. She twisted her lips up to the side in confusion. Normally there was always a knapsack full of fresh red delicious apples from the single apple tree that Cordelia had let Jo keep in their garden. Cordelia swore up and down that she detested apples, but every time Jo made her cinnamon apple pie it was gone within minutes.

  Everyone else, however, seemed to be under the belief that Cordelia was only eating it to humor her beloved. Jo knew the truth, though, no matter how much Dessie and Susanna disagreed. Besides, they were never in the kitchen anymore anyway. It had been well over a year since Cordelia had hired a full staff of cooks and maids for both her house and the modest four-bedroom home she purchased for Dessie and Susanna with some of the money her newest paintings had brought in.

  A few months after Cordelia and Jo admitted their feelings, Cordelia became much more diligent about taking her medication and doing everything that Doctor Lenaldi had ordered. It took a year or so for her to be able to walk again, but it was less than a month after starting the medicine that her vision cleared up and the tremors in her hand stopped. She was a bit wary about trying to paint again, but Jo had convinced her to try.

  Dessie came down to the kitchen and poked her head around the doorway. “How would I know? I have not been in this kitchen for almost a year. Why do you not ask Pippa? Or Montgomery?”

  “We gave them the holidays off to spend time with their grandchildren. The wait staff, too. Aha! There they are!” Jo pulled the bag out from the back of the cabinet and held them out in front of her, smiling. The smiled dropped, though, when she saw the rancid quality that some of the apples were in. The rats seemed to have managed to get a hold of a few of them, as several had teeth marks spiraling around the core, while others had bruises so deep that the flesh was falling apart. Jo sighed and shook her head. “There goes that idea.”

  Dessie walked the rest of the way into the room and put her hand on Jo’s shoulder. “How about you go and see how Susanna and Mrs. Anderson are doing in the dining room and I will finish up the goose and the vegetables? I daresay you have done more than enough for supper already. Besides, the rest of your guests will be here soon.”

  “Are you sure? I know there is a lot left to do—”

  “Jo, all that is left is to take the goose out and spoon some of its juices onto the vegetables. I will be fine.” She was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, across the house. “See? What did I tell you? Guests.”

  Jo smiled and gave Dessie a quick kiss on the cheek in gratitude before brushing off her dark-blue crushed velvet skirt. She hurried out of the kitchen and down the hall to the door, unsurprised to see that Cordelia had gotten there first. Two small children and two older ones rushed into the house, the youngest toddling in with wobbly steps.

  Jo put her hand on the small of Cordelia’s back and stepped around her to greet Theresa and Will. She kissed both members of the couple on the cheeks before stepping back by Cordelia. “Having your family in our home is a joyous occasion. We are so happy that you all could make it.”

  “It is our pleasure,” Theresa assured her, moving to give Cordelia another kiss on the cheek, as well as to hand her a bottle of blackberry cordial. Will shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a grimace on his face. He was trying to do better, but he struggled to see the relationship between Cordelia and Jo (and Dessie and Susanna, by extension) as anything other than an abomination. He kept their affair secret from the public eye, however, so there wasn’t much else that Cordelia and Jo could ask of him. Theresa, on the other hand, had been thrilled to find out that she had been right about Cordelia’s feelings.

  Cordelia tucked the bottle of cordial under her arm and led Will and Theresa to the dining room, telling them all about the “luscious goose and flavorful vegetables” that Jo had prepared for supper, going on and on about her beloved’s penchant for cooking until she was out of Jo’s hearing.

  A strong gust of wind blew spiraling waves of snow onto the mansion floor. Jo had nearly forgotten about shutting the door in all her excitement over her guests’ arrivals. She started to close the door, but before she could, a man’s polished black shoe slipped through the crack and forced the door back open.

  Jo pulled the wood back the rest of the way, her face lighting up when she saw the shoe
belonged to Nate. He was accompanied by his wife, Abigayle, a pretty brunette with honey-brown skin. Both adults had bundles of blankets in their arms, although Abigayle was also carrying a basket of bread. Jo squealed when she realized what was in the bundles. “Oh, you brought the twins! How wonderful! What are their names?”

  Nate smiled brightly and kissed Jo in greeting before tilting his bundle forward. The green-eyed baby girl already had thick tufts of white-blonde hair like her father (and her aunt), and was wide awake, her eyes following the snow as it fell onto her nose. “This one here is Lydia, and then this little angel,” he nudged Abigayle with his hip, “is Lyle.”

  Abigayle moved the blanket off the sleeping baby boy. He had no hair on his head, but his tanned skin made it more likely that his hair would take after his mother’s than it would his father’s. Either way, he sure was beautiful. It made Jo’s heart ache to know that Cordelia and she would never get to celebrate the life of their child, but she wouldn’t give up her life with the beautiful woman for a thousand precious babes.

  Jo shook the thoughts from her mind and dropped her head to press a kiss to the snoozing cherub’s hair. She stepped out of the way so that Nate and Abigayle could come inside.

  This time, Jo peered out into the snow before she shut the door to make sure that Hattie hadn’t arrived while she was getting aquatinted with the Threadgood twins. She couldn’t see anyone out in the snow, so she pulled her shawl tighter around herself and stepped back into the house, making sure that the door was tightly shut to avoid any drafts. Mangrove House normally staid warm, especially with all the fireplaces burning around the house, but Jo didn’t want to risk any sudden chills when there were babes present.

  Jo made her way into the dining room, suddenly awestruck by the grand pine tree that towered in the doorway next to the dining room table. It did not matter how many times she looked at it; each time was just as majestic as the first. Cordelia had gotten one of the men in town to chop down his finest tree and transport it to the Mangrove House one weekend when Jo had been back in her hometown to visit her brother. She had enlisted the help of Dessie and Susanna to decorate it with golden thread and baubles of all colors and sizes, making truly a stunning centerpiece for their home.

  Speaking of stunning . . . as Jo’s eyes locked on Cordelia, who was conversing with Theresa over a glass of cordial, a bright smile on her face, Jo was once again struck by how lucky she was to have captured the heart of such a beautiful woman. Cordelia had been lovely even when she was confined to her chair, but now, years after the fact, she was completely and utterly glowing. Tonight, she had opted to leave her hair mostly down, pulling only the uppermost curls into a spiraling, braided bun at the back of her head and leaving the rest of the curls to slope down over her shoulders and her pert breasts, coming to a stop along the silvery sash on her waist. She was wearing a sapphire-blue gown that brought out the purple undertones of her skin, complete with pale-pink flowers that had been embroidered along the bodice and the top of the skirt with silver beaded centers. The gown was tight around her bodice, but it flared out around her crinoline, just like Jo’s did.

  When Cordelia noticed Jo’s staring, she winked at her before continuing with her conversation with Theresa. Jo contemplated going over to join them, or sitting down where Nate, Abigayle, and Will had begun to converse while the children played under the table, but she was interrupted by Susanna coming into the room. She put on a hand on Jo’s elbow and led her out into the hall, where she paused to point at the door. “I stepped outside to grab more firewood for Dessie, and I noticed that your pretty blonde friend has arrived with a mysterious lady on her arm. I found it rude to interrupt, but they seemed far too deep into their conversation to find time to knock on the door.” She laughed and bumped Jo with her hip before walking away and disappearing towards the kitchens.

  Jo watched her retreating form for a moment before making her way over to the front door. She stepped over the damp patches of snow-soaked carpet and stood on the toes of her leather boots to look out the small glass hole in the door. Sure enough, Hattie was standing there with a young woman with striking black hair.

  Jo lowered herself back down onto her heels and counted to ten before opening the door. Hattie and her guest jumped away from one another. Hattie pressed her hand to her chest as she caught her breath. “Holy gee, Joanna, you gave me quite the fright.”

  Jo chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to each of Hattie’s cheeks. “My apologies, Hattie, I simply did not wish for you to suffer in the cold any longer.” She straightened back up and turned her sights to the raven’s pretty face, which was made up of sharp, angular features and vibrant violet eyes. Her skin was nearly the same color as the snow, and her hair was as dark as freshly-pressed ink. “And who might this angel of the night be?”

  Hattie wrapped her hand around the girl’s forearm. “Jo, this is Martha. Martha, this is Joanna Hart. She’s the one I was telling you about.”

  Martha’s eyes lit up. “Oh! You’re Mrs. Anderson’s,” she hesitated, before continuing in a quieter voice, “her friend.”

  Jo let out a small smile and leaned in again. “Martha, let me let you in on a little secret. In this household, everyone is free to be whomever they are. You can say it; I am Cordelia’s lover.”

  Martha blushed and nodded. “Of course, ma’am, I mean, Jo, I mean—” She cut herself off, the flush in her cheeks growing darker.

  Jo chuckled and shared a look with Hattie. “I applaud you, Hattie. Your ‘friend’ is lovely.”

  Hattie smiled and nodded, but she said nothing else. Jo took a step back and held her hand out in the direction of the dining room. “Come on in. Dinner will be served shortly.”

  “Thank you, miss—Jo,” Martha said, correcting herself at the last minute. She ducked her head and followed Hattie, hiding behind her when everyone in the dining room loudly greeted the blonde.

  After Hattie and Jo’s kiss, things had been uncomfortable for a few weeks, but it had been Cordelia who had bridged the gap between them. She sent Dessie over to Hattie’s home to invite her over for supper, and when Hattie showed up, she staged a discussion between the Hattie, Jo, and herself. She had told Hattie that she wanted Jo and her to stay friends, and that she thought it was good for Jo to spend time with girls her own age. Hattie was uncertain at first, but she wanted Jo in her life as much as Jo wanted her in hers.

  Jo shook her head and started off in the opposite direction from the dining room. Cordelia could handle the guests on her own while Jo helped get dinner on the table.

  Jo only made it halfway down the stairs, however, when she met Dessie and Susanna on their way up. Dessie had the roasting container in her hand, the vegetables stuffed down the neck hole. She had a few dark bruises on her neck, and Susanna, coming up behind her, was slightly out of breath. Her lips were red and swollen, and she had a line of saliva dripping down from the corner of her mouth.

  Jo snorted and took the tray out of Dessie’s hands. “You may want to change into something with a higher neck before we sup,” she teased, reaching out her hand and running her fingers over the darkest of the bruises. Dessie blushed and batted her hands away before grabbing the lace around her neck and pulling it up to her chin. Susanna giggled from behind her, but did not say in anything to help or hinder Dessie’s case.

  The women made their way back to the dining room. Jo held the pan up towards her shoulders and smiled. All the guests took their seats. “Dinner is served,” she announced, lowering the pan back down and bringing it over to the dining table. She placed the pan on a long slab of wood and nodded at Susanna, who pulled out two carving knives. Susanna held them out to Will. “Will, would you do the honors?”

  Will looked uncertain, but nodded anyway. He took the knives from Susanna and started to carve the goose. Jo walked around the table and sat down next to Cordelia. She gave her a small smile before reaching over and placing her hand on Cordelia’s knee. Cordelia put her hand over Jo’s
and interlaced their fingers.

  Content at the feeling of Cordelia’s pulse against her own, Jo let out a deep breath and pressed her back against her chair. She looked around the room, her smile growing as she looked at the happy couples and families around her. When she had first come to St. Louis, she never expected to be as happy as she was right now. Her heart was overflowing with love for all of her friends in the room. Cordelia lifted her and Jo’s joined hands up to her lips and pressed a kiss to Jo’s knuckles. “I love you,” she mouthed, her eyes twinkling and her cheeks flushing a pale-pink.

  Jo didn’t have to say the words for Cordelia to know them to be true. Jo loved Cordelia with her whole heart, and nothing would ever change that.

  This was where she was meant to be.

  ###

 

 

 


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