The Pattern

by Jane Peart

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Aunt Hannah,” Johanna said brightly, determined not to be an unwilling audience to a long list of Aunt Hannah’s hypochondriac complaints. “I do hope you will take care so that you won’t miss the holiday festivities. New Year’s dinner is at our house this year.”

  Aunt Hannah looked aghast. “Miss our family dinner? Of course not! I wouldn’t miss that even if—”

  Before she could add the phrase “if I were on my deathbed,” which Johanna anticipated might be next, Johanna said quickly, “I must be on my way, Aunt Hannah. I have the other fruitcakes to deliver, and Mother explicitly told me to be back home by noon. She is expected to be at the church to help decorate.”

  “Go along then, child. How I wish I had the strength to volunteer for such active things, too, but I just haven’t felt up to it—”

  Johanna moved to the door. One hand on the knob, she said, “Do give Uncle Roy my love. We shall see you on Christmas Day at Aunt Honey’s.” The door was open now.

  “Yes. That is, if—”

  Before her aunt could finish her sentence, Johanna stepped outside onto the porch, into the crisp, cold morning.

  Aunt Hannah gasped, saying, “Oh, I must shut the door quickly, Johanna, or I’ll catch my death—”

  “Sorry, Auntie,” apologized Johanna, then she ran down the porch steps and climbed back into the buggy. Glad to escape, she picked up the reins with a long sigh of relief. Next stop was Aunt Cady’s. Johanna Cady was what Johanna called her “fashionable aunt.” She was exceptionally attractive and youthful looking, with fine hazel eyes, silvery blond hair. She had a distinct style, impeccable taste, and a rather superior air. As Johanna arrived, she saw her aunt’s carriage in front of the house, and when her aunt answered the knock at her door, she was dressed and ready to leave. Her peacock blue faille ensemble was elegant, and her bonnet sported curled plumes and velvet ribbon.

  “Oh, dear me, Johanna, I’m just about to depart,” Aunt Cady said. “With the holidays upon us, I moved up my visiting day so as to get all my calls in before I get caught up in the season. Munroe and Harvel will be home from college day after tomorrow, you know—and then there’ll be no end to it!” She threw up her hands in mock dismay, but Johanna knew her aunt was looking forward with great pleasure to the arrival of her two handsome sons.

  “It’s all right, Aunt Cady. I just came to leave Mama’s gift.”

  “Oh, how nice.” Her aunt accepted it distractedly, placing it on the polished Pembroke table in the hall behind her. “When the boys come, we shall have to have some kind of party, invite all their friends—I don’t know just when, but we shall of course let you know. They shall be so pleased to see you, Johanna.” Her aunt’s gaze traveled approvingly over her. “The boys will be amazed to see how pretty and grown up you are since last year!”

  Johanna wasn’t so sure. Her older boy cousins had always rather ignored her, being busy with their own social activities. Years ago it might have mattered to her to be noticed by her two attractive cousins, but somehow now at the mention of them, she mentally shrugged.

  “Do tell them hello for me, and of course, tell Uncle Madison,” she said as she went back out to the buggy.

  “We’ll see you at church on Christmas Day and at dinner afterward. And be sure to thank Rebecca for me, won’t you, dear?” Aunt Cady called after her.

  Johanna had one more stop to make before heading home. She had purposely saved this one till last, because Aunt Johanna Hayes was her favorite. She was called Aunt Honey, because that was the name her husband Matt called her in his loud, jovial voice. He was a large man, measuring at least two feet taller than his petite wife. That name suited this aunt perfectly, Johanna thought as she approached the fieldstone and frame house surrounded by tall pines at the end of a lane. Honey had remained a great deal like the lighthearted girl she had been, frivolous, charming, fun-loving, the pampered pet of her husband and three strapping sons.

  Up to her elbows in flour, Aunt Honey was making the decorated Christmas cookies of all sorts of shapes and sizes for which she was famous in the family.

  “Darling girl, how happy I am to see you! But you’ve just missed Jo,” Honey told Johanna. Her plump face showed dismay. “She’ll be sorry to miss you. But she would go out riding! I told her I thought it was too cold, but you know how she is!”

  Aunt Jo was spending Christmas with the Hayeses.

  Johanna knew Aunt Jo was an excellent horsewoman and no matter what the weather, she would go riding. “Yes, I know. I’ll leave her fruitcake from Mama anyway and see her another time.”

  “Ah yes, there’ll be plenty of family get-togethers during the holidays,” Aunt Honey agreed. “Want to sample one of my cookies?”

  “I can’t stay, Aunt Honey, but I’ll take one along to munch on.”

  “Of course. Come along into the kitchen with me. I have a batch almost ready to take out of the oven.”

  Suddenly a startled look crossed Aunt Honey’s face, and she sniffed the air suspiciously. “Oh, my! I’d better get them out quick, or they’ll be burned.”

  Johanna followed her into the deliciously fragrant kitchen. Aunt Honey scurried over to the stove and slipped out the tray of bell- and tree-shaped Christmas cookies. “Uhoh, they’re a bit brown at the edges!”

  “They’ll be fine, Aunt Honey,” Johanna consoled. “Once you’ve covered them with colored sugar.”

  “What a clever girl, you are, Johanna,” her aunt declared happily. “That’s just the thing.”

  “I really must go, Auntie.”

  “Do tell your mama thank you for our cake. Matt always looks forward to Rebecca’s fruitcake,” Aunt Honey said as she walked to the door with Johanna. “Your mother is so organized, no one can keep up with her! And here I am, not finished with my baking, not by half. I’m hopeless, it seems, no matter how early I start.”

  “You’re just right, Aunt Honey.” Johanna gave her a hug and went out the door. “And we’ll see you on Christmas!”

  Her errands done, Johanna decided to ride through town on her way home. With only a half-formed thought in her mind, she slowed her horse to a walk as she went by Dr. Murrison’s house. Ever since the Chalmers’ party, Johanna had spent a great deal of time thinking about the tall, young doctor with his slow smile and disturbingly penetrating eyes. However, as she passed the brown-shingled house, there was no one in sight. She felt disappointed, but then, what she had hoped for? A chance to talk to him again? There was just something about Ross Davison…

  In no hurry to get home, where household chores awaited her, Johanna decided to do a little shopping. She had a good half hour before her mother expected her back. Why not stop at the little notions shop that carried ribbons and lace and look around for a bit? She had started making handkerchief cases in needlework class months ago as Christmas gifts for both her sisters. As usual with such things, she had lost interest in the project, and she had brought them home with her, unfinished. With Christmas only a few days away, maybe she could find some lace or trim to add a finishing touch.

  She found a space in front of the shop and, hitching Juno to the post, went inside. It didn’t take long to find what she wanted. Her purchases made, she was just leaving the store when she saw him crossing the street, coming straight toward her!

  At the exact same time, Ross Davison saw her. Her scarlet cape, caught by a sudden wind, swirled up behind her like a bright fan, framing her dark, flying hair. He thought Johanna the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

  “Miss Shelby,” he greeted her. “What luck!”

  “Luck?”

  “Yes, quite a coincidence.”

  Or a hopeful wish come true, Johanna thought, amazed.

  Trying to conceal her pleasure, she teased, “Don’t tell me you just happened to be thinking of me!”

  “As a matter of fact, I was.”

  Johanna was taken aback. Most young men of her acquaintance were not so frank expressing their feelings. In her so
cial circle, an unwritten law was never to say what you meant—a game played equally by ladies and gentlemen. Johanna had always thought it ridiculous nonsense. Ross’s frankness was as refreshing as it was startling.

  “Yes,” he said, “I was thinking about what a good time we had at the Chalmerses’ party—”

  “Musical chairs, you mean? Yes, it was fun.” She laughed and Ross thought Johanna was prettier even than he had remembered, her face all glowing and rosy, her smiling mouth showing small white teeth.

  “I hope we may enjoy other such times, or”—he frowned suddenly—“will you be returning to school after the holidays?”

  Although she had not launched her planned campaign to persuade her parents to let her stay home instead of going back to the academy, she hesitated. “I may not be going back. I hope to be through with all that—”

  “With boarding school? Or learning in general?” he grinned.

  “Oh, there are lots of things I want to learn—outside the schoolroom.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “I see.” Ross regarded her so seriously, she began to feel uncomfortable. Recalling her mother’s recent lecture on deportment, she hoped that her remark did not sound too flippant, too flirtatious. An awkward silence stretched between them. To break it, Johanna asked, “And why are you not going about doing good, curing illnesses, and that sort of thing, Dr. Davison?”

  “At the moment, it seems most of Hillsboro’s citizens are in good health or too busy with Christmas preparations to be sick.”

  For a minute, they simply stood smiling at each other. Since she could think of no plausible reason to delay longer, Johanna shifted and moved as if to go. “Well, I must be on my way, Dr. Davison.”

  “May I help you with your packages, Miss Shelby?”

  There were so few, it seemed an almost ridiculous suggestion. But grasping at anything to prolong this chance meeting, Johanna just as ridiculously replied, “Why, thank you, Dr. Davison.”

  “Where’s your buggy?”

  It was right in front of them, a matter of a few steps. “Over there.”

  “I’ll see you to it,” Ross said quite solemnly. His hand slipped under her elbow, and they walked over to where Juno patiently waited. Ross helped her climb in, then said with obvious reluctance, “Well, I have patients to see—”

  “Yes, and I’d better get home.”

  Before relinquishing her small parcels, he asked, “When may I hope to see you again?”

  “Perhaps at church on Sunday,” Johanna blurted out impulsively, then blushingly amended, “—that is, if you attend?”

  “Not always, but”—he looked amused—“this Sunday I will.”

  She picked up the reins. Their gaze still held. Johanna was amazed that so much had been said, and yet so much remained unspoken but somehow understood. At last she said, “Good-bye, then. Until Sunday.”

  “Yes, ’til Sunday. Good-bye.”

  Feeling unreasonably happy, Johanna started for home.

  The following Sunday, Johanna was already up when her mother came into her bedroom to awaken her with a cup of hot chocolate. In fact, Johanna was standing in front of the mirror trying on her new bonnet while still in her nightie. Surprised, Mrs. Shelby raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Johanna was usually the hardest of the three girls to get up and moving in the morning. What had prompted this early rising? Surely it wasn’t sudden religious fervor? Rebecca regarded her oldest daughter curiously.

  Rebecca was inordinately proud of her three pretty daughters, and this morning as they made their way to church, she noted that Johanna looked especially attractive. Her new bonnet of russet velvet, with a cluster of silk bittersweet berries nestled on green velvet leaves on the band, and wide brown satin ribbons tied under her chin, was most becoming. She was also being extremely amiable and sweettempered, moving over at Cissy’s demand for more room in the carriage, looking demure with folded hands over her prayer book. Something was stirring, Rebecca felt sure, but she could not pinpoint what it might be.

  As for Johanna, when they reached the churchyard, her heart was pumping as fast as if she were on her way to a ball. When they all got out of the carriage, she saw Dr. Murrison and his tall assistant mounting the church steps. She dared not look to the right or left to try to locate where they were seated as she followed her parents down the aisle to their family pew, indicated by the small brass identifying marker engraved SHELBY.

  Before she sat down, she glanced around as casually as possible and saw that the two were seated toward the back of the church. Then she remembered it was well known that Dr. Murrison always sat in the rear near the door in case a medical emergency called him away from divine service. She ducked her head, studying the hymn book. After reading the same line over at least three times, none of it making sense, she realized she was much too aware of the young man three pews behind her. It became suddenly hard to breathe, much less sing.

  Somehow Johanna got through this Sunday’s seemingly endless service. When her mother stopped to chat with friends on the way out of church, she had to curb her irritation. Oh, please don’t let him leave, she prayed. Stepping outside onto the church steps, to her delight she saw her father engaged in conversation with Dr. Murrison, and Ross stood quietly beside him. She heard her father saying, “But of course, you both must join us. Am I right, my dear?” He turned to Rebecca as she and Johanna approached them. “Wouldn’t we be pleased to have Dr. Murrison and his assistant join us for dinner on New Year’s?”

  Dr. Murrison, a ruddy-cheeked, gray-whiskered man with a gruff manner that his small, twinkly blue eyes belied, demanded, “But wouldn’t we be intruding? A family occasion, surely?”

  “Not at all, my good fellow,” Mr. Shelby denied heartily. “Holidays are no time to be alone. Now, we’ll say no more about it. But expect you both.”

  Rebecca murmured something appropriate. Johanna shyly smiled at Ross. His eyes seemed to light up, replacing his serious expression with one of pleasure. A few more pleasantries were exchanged, then good-byes were said.

  Once in the family carriage, her father announced, as if in explanation of his impromptu invitation, “Couldn’t let Alec spend the most festive day of the holidays alone, could we? He used to spend the holidays with his sister over in Clayton County. But she passed away last summer—and that young fellow, Davison, he’d never get to his home in the mountains in this weather. Snow’s made the road up to Millscreek impassable.”

  Johanna did not listen to the rest of her parents’ discussion. She was too happy planning what she would wear when Ross Davison came to the house for dinner. Ten days seemed a long time to wait.

  Chapter Three

  I don’t want to go!” pouted Elly at the breakfast table. “I don’t want to have my music lesson. Why do I have to do it during the holidays? I didn’t think I’d have to go to lessons at all, with Johanna just come home.”

  “That will do, Elly,” Mrs. Shelby said sternly. “You will take your music lessons as usual. Miss Minton is paid for each pupil’s lesson. If you don’t go, she doesn’t get paid. She is the sole support of her invalid mother, and it is only right and proper that you go. Besides, I heard you practicing yesterday, and you certainly need the instruction. You fumbled quite badly on your piece. Now, that’s all I have to say. Go and get ready.”

  Elly’s lower lip trembled and tears filled her eyes.

  “I’ll take Elly over to Miss Minton’s, Mama,” offered Johanna. “And maybe we can go have a little treat afterward. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Elly?”

  Her little sister’s face brightened. “Oh, yes!” She jumped up from her chair.

  “That’s very generous of you, Johanna.” Mrs. Shelby looked approvingly at her but added, “Still, I believe, Elly must learn responsibility without the promise of reward. This time, however, it will be all right.”

  Within twenty minutes Johanna and Elly were on their way. Elly took Johanna’s hand, swinging it happily.

 
“I’ve missed you, Johanna. It’s really lonely at home without you.”

  “I missed you, too, punkin.” Johanna smiled down at the rosy, upturned face.

  “I hate taking piano lessons. But Mama insists. She says every young lady should play a musical instrument and must have accomplishments.” Elly had some trouble with the word. “When I ask why, Cissy says, ‘So that suitable gentlemen will want to marry you.’ As if I cared about that,” she sniffed disdainfully. “But Cissy does. She plays the flute and she likes it. She can’t wait ’til she’s old enough to have beaux.” Elly looked sideways at Johanna. “Do you have beaux, Johanna? I mean, someone special you want to marry?”

  “Not really, Elly,” Johanna laughingly replied, but a small, secret smile played around her mouth as she thought of Ross Davison. Although she couldn’t as yet consider him a beau—or even a would-be suitor, there was something tucked deep inside her heart that whispered “possibility.”

  Caught up in thoughts of the mysterious, unknown future, Johanna was surprised when they reached Miss Minton’s house in what seemed to her like no time at all. Elly yanked the leather thong, setting the pewter doorbell clanging and bringing a flustered-looking Miss Minton.

  When she saw Johanna, she gave a her head a little jerk. Johanna had not been one of her best students nor a favorite. Too restless, too uninterested, and one who had not progressed much, in spite of all Miss Minton’s efforts. In her opinion, she had not been at fault—it was simply that Johanna had not applied herself.

  “Well, Johanna, I see you’re back from school. Were they able to give you some appreciation of the value of a musical education?”

  Trying to keep a straight face, Johanna replied, “I was in choir, Miss Minton, but that’s about all.”

  “Humph. Let’s hope they were more successful than I at teaching you to sing on key,” was Miss Minton’s rejoinder. “Come along, Elinor. I hope you’re prepared today. Go in the front room. I have another student in the parlor.” From inside the house, the scratchy sound of a squeaky violin could be heard. Johanna suppressed a wince. She certainly didn’t intend to remain here listening to Elly’s stumbling fingers on the piano, accompanied by the agonizingly dreadful rendition of the violin student. Helping Elly off with her coat and bonnet, she whispered, “I’ll go do some errands and be back for you in an hour. Then we’ll go have our treat.”