by Stephy Smith
“One day I hope to share her stories with my own children.” Nick watched the heat rise across her face.
“You will, I’m sure of it. I’d best be going. It’s getting late, and I want to check things out at our place. I’ll stay the night there and head back here in the morning. I have a few things left undone at the store. If you need to, send for me.” He linked her arm in his and walked her to the porch to leave her with her family.
Chapter Eight
Amanda stretched and blinked her eyes against the sun playing across her pillow. She glanced around and dropped her head back into the fluffiness. It wasn’t a dream, her grandmother’s illness was real. The room she slept in was where she was born. It had always given her a small amount of peace when she visited.
Sitting up on the bed, she rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Face the day and seize every opportunity that comes your way.” She kept her voice low.
After she dressed, she ran to her grandmother’s room to check on her. Grandfather had already vacated. Descending the staircase, she headed for the kitchen. Pulling out the pots, she put on some coffee and then cooked breakfast for her and Grandfather. The backdoor slammed and Lewis walked in with a basket of fresh vegetables.
“Good morning, Amanda. Did you sleep well?” His dull blue eyes gazed at her.
“I suppose I did. How about you? Did you rest?” She took the basket and poured it on the cabinet top. She dished him a plate of bacon, eggs and fresh biscuits and set it on the table. His worn and fragile form shuffled across the floor. He had taken to sleeping in the chair by the bed.
“It was sort of empty in my room. But, yes, I slept well. My Izella woke, and I gave her some water and a little broth, then she went right into the wretched sleep.” He seated himself at the table and sipped his coffee. She served herself and joined him.
The silence in the room unnerved her. “What do we have on the agenda for today?” She tried to sound positive to keep their spirits up.
“Today, my dear, we decorate the house for Christmas. You know Grandmother always made a big to-do out of Christmas.” His cheerfulness surprised her.
“I will bring down the decorations as soon as I finish washing the dishes.”
“I’ll help with the dishes and then go cut a couple of trees.” He laid his wrinkled hand on hers.
She choked back a gasp. As she stared at him, the far away look in his eyes made her think he was seeing her grandmother in her. She wondered if she was sitting in the wrong chair. Grandmother always sat across the table from her and not the one she sat in.
He leaned over his plate and finished his breakfast. Then after refilling their coffee cups, he slumped down in his seat again. “Who shall we take Christmas dinner to this year?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Grandfather.”
“Every year we take a dinner to one of our less fortunate families that haven’t recovered from the war. It was your grandmother’s idea. It’s another one of your grandmother’s post-war traditions. She said she started it when the war began to keep the girls busy.” He chuckled. “I bet she had her hands full back then.”
Amanda leaned back in her chair. She thought for a long moment and then shrugged her shoulders. Rising from the chair, she advanced on the dishpan and washed the dishes.
Grandfather’s brows furrowed. “We’ll decide later. I have two trees to fetch. I won’t be long.”
He shuffled out the back door. The heavy coat he slipped into swallowed his withering frame. She stared after him. Amused by his doting behavior, she set out to collect holly, pine cones, mistletoe and ivy. Stringing dried fruit, popcorn and the pinecones, she wrapped her decorations around the staircase and fastened it to the rails with red ribbon. She hummed Deck the Halls as she worked.
Her mood lightened. She paused. How many years have I worked beside you, Grandmother? Singing, decorating and baking, you never mentioned taking Christmas dinner to unfortunate families. I will carry on your tradition and pass it on to my family… if I am lucky enough to have one.
It wasn’t hard for her to imagine her grandmother’s smile and her assurance she would be the mother of Nick’s children someday. His image flashed in her mind. She relished his handsome face in her thoughts as she worked decorating the mantles. A clatter arose at the back door.
Grandfather entered with three trees in tubs. She took one from him and placed it on the dining room table. With care and help from him, they surrounded the small tree with mistletoe, holly and ivy. Grandfather propped large pinecones in the midst of the ivy. He stepped back to the porch and pulled another tree into the house.
“It is beautiful, don’t you think, Amanda?” His eyes pooled with tears.
“Yes sir.” She choked back her thoughts. It would be livelier if Grandmother were awake to enjoy it. “The trees are wonderful. Where do we put the second tree?”
“Oh, we decorate it for the family we take the food to. Have you thought of a family yet?”
“No sir.” She slumped in a chair.
“I know…no, no we did them two years ago.” He paused. “I’ve got it! No, no that won’t work either we did them last year. How about…”
“How about we take it to the church?” She shook her head. At this rate, they would never find a family to offer the meal to.
“I believe that is where Izella always got the names of the recipients we serve.” The laughter of his voice when he glanced at her revealed he was playing games with her.
“Grandfather, you are a conniving man.” She tapped him on the arm and smiled.
“What do you think of the idea of inviting someone to eat with us this year? Do you know someone who is alone and has no family?” His brows rose.
“Who do you have in mind?”
“A young man, you may know of him. His name is Nicolas Harper. You have heard of this young man, haven’t you?” Her grandfather’s eyes twinkled. His jovial mood reminded her of how he used to tease her grandmother.
Her breath caught in her throat. He knows Nick will be here, but I’ll play along with his game. “If that’s what you want to do.” Her heart raced. The mention of Nick brought lightness to her world.
“We could always invite Cody Lansing if you would prefer his company over Nick’s.” Grandfather continued with his mild mannered taunts.
“No. Cody is a bore. He is so full of himself I can’t see why all the girls make such a fuss over him. Sure, he is handsome, but there is something about him I can’t stomach. You know Nick will be here anyway. He’ll be part of the family, remember?” She stifled a giggle.
“Nick it is then.” He strolled through the front door.
What in the world was that man up to? She stared after him. His light, airy attitude perplexed her. Instead of mourning her grandmother’s demise, he was relishing in a game of matching wits with her. She shrugged her shoulders and set about making a light lunch.
Carrying two glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade and the lunch on a tray to the front porch, she placed it on the table between them. They ate in silence. The faint sound of the church bells rang, and she turned her eyes to the cross out front. “Grandmother is singing to us.” Her words were little more than a murmur.
“That she is, child.” He leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. He hummed Silent Night, as if he were reminiscing happier times.
“Grandfather, who’s the third tree for?”
“Grandmother, of course. We can’t leave her out just because she’s ill, now can we?” He picked up the song where he left off.
“In that case, I better get busy fashioning some special decorations for our special Christmas tree.” She twisted her fingers in the white apron covering her dress.
He turned to face her. A horse snorted as it came to a stop in front. Nick slid from the saddle. Her heart hastened. She caught her breath as he pulled a couple of tinkling boxes from his saddlebags. “Here you are, Mr. Sanders.”
�
�Please call me Grandfather., After all, it is just a matter of time before you will be welcomed into our family. Thank you, Nick.”
Grandfather handed the boxes to Amanda. Tears stung her eyes as she picked one of the tiny glass angel bells and held it to the sunlight. A rainbow of colors glistened around the ornament as it swung daintily in her hand.
“They are beautiful! The perfect decoration for Grandmother’s tree. Nick, would you like to help me?” She leaned over and kissed Lewis on the forehead.
“Nick Harper, you are one lucky man. You better take care of our little angel.” He winked at her.
She placed his glass of lemonade on the table and moved soundlessly across the porch with the tray and through the door. A strange sadness reigned over her as she scanned the holiday decorations. Guilt should have taken over for not being sad. And Grandfather, he wasn’t sad either. What was wrong with the two of them? Was Grandmother intervening in their lives from her dreamland?
Her body shook and tingled. She glanced around as if someone had touched her but no one was there. It wouldn’t surprise her if Grandmother stayed on at Sanders Cross in a spiritual manner. Since the day she drifted into unconsciousness, it appeared as if she were controlling the minds of others, refusing to let them be sad.
Nick carried the tree to Grandmother’s room. Amanda opened the door and pointed to the bedside table where Nick placed the tree. She opened the box, and they placed the shiny bells on the small branches. Amanda started singing O’ Come All Ye Faithful and Deck the Halls. Nick harmonized with her. Laughter and good-natured banter floated in the room along with the aroma of the tree and cinnamon sticks tied to mistletoe.
Rejoicing in the season, Nick and Amanda stole away to the white cross in the front yard.
“Grandmother. I know you’re here in spirit. I miss you so much. If you would wake up, you could see what we have done and how we are trying to keep in tradition with your ways. I think you would be impressed. I don’t know why I’m not sad. You’re all over this place as if you were walking by my side sharing my joy. I love you. I want to wish you would wake up, but to do so would be selfish, for I know you need to sleep to get well. I’ll always remember you laughing, singing and dancing through the house without a care in the world. Lately, I’ve come to realize you weren’t pretending to be happy, you honestly were. You taught me how to accept and not let anything ruin my day.” She bowed her head. “So many blessings were given to us that we forgot to give thanks for. Here it is almost Christmas and Grandfather is sharing your secrets with me. It could be we are discovering them together. He is doing well. The only thing missing is the gleam in his eyes when he looks at you. I best be going now, he’ll be ready to eat when he wakes from his nap, and I haven’t thought of what I should cook for him.”
To Amanda’s delight, she found Grandfather to be a jolly old man who loved to dance, sing and act just plain silly at times. Since Izella had taken sick she would hear him in their room; she listened to him play his guitar and she glimpsed through the door to see him singing out the window in the same place her grandmother sat with the wooden box pressed to her chest during the war. How long will I carry these memories with me?
Chapter Nine
“Mother. Father.” She nodded as she poured cups of coffee. They had arrived to help prepare for her wedding and the family Christmas celebration. “I have a question.”
Her parents’ faces, as they glanced at each other with furrowed brows, raised caution. She stifled a laugh then proceeded. “While I was decorating Sanders Cross, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t be sad. Is there something wrong with me?”
“Why would you think something was wrong? Why do you want to be sad? Today is your wedding day. It should be the happiest day of your life.” Her mother’s brows furrowed.
“Grandfather wasn’t sad either. That’s what is so strange about it. We did the things he would have done with Grandmother if she were awake.” Amanda fiddled with the edge of her cup.
“Y’all did what she would have wanted. Her life was complicated at times, Amanda. When it is time she will embrace the eternal life promised.” Her father patted her on the arm.
“You knew your grandmother well. She never would have permitted you or Grandfather to wallow in your sorrow over her.” Her mother gave her a sideways glance.
“It felt as if she were controlling us from her sleep!”
Silence radiated the room. Her blood pulsed through her neck. She pulled in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Is there such things as ghosts?”
“Did you see one?” her parents asked in unison.
“No, I didn’t see one. It’s just, well, I don’t know how to explain it. I thought she was there telling me what to do and how to do things I didn’t know how to do.” Amanda leaned her elbows on the table. “It was so real, I can’t believe it could be a dream.”
“Did it scare you?” Maggie’s eyes widened.
“That’s something else that was strange, Mother. I never was afraid. Actually, I was quite at ease with whatever it was.”
“Do you suppose it was the spirit of Christmas taking hold of you?” Robert gazed at his daughter.
“I don’t know what it was. That is why I came to you. Grandfather laughed it off as if I were supposed to know.” Amanda thought for a bit. “Another thing that bothers me is Grandmother’s box of gold.”
“Where did you get the notion she had a box of gold? Did you see it?” Maggie leaned closer.
“She told me she had precious gold she received from the war. Didn’t she ever show it to you? It’s in with the letters from Grandfather.”
“Amanda,” her mother paused a moment and glanced at her father. “The gold she talks about in the small wooden box is the letters Grandfather sent her from the war. She would never part with them. Nor would she allow anyone to read them. I suppose her gold is still hidden under the cushion below the window sill.”
“I wanted to look in the box, but it never crossed my mind. Grandfather tucked it in the bed next to her. Ever since I was small, I wanted to sneak in her room and look in it. The time I have been here, not once did it cross my mind to pry.” To her it was another strange experience to forget about the box while she was there. She had to change the subject before her mind became too addled.
“How did you come up with the name ‘Gentry’s Gallery of Angels’ for your house?”
Her father’s laughter echoed in the room. She waited for it to die down. “You came up with the name. You glanced at the house, and I asked you what you thought we should call our home. Your reply was ‘Gentry’s Gallery of Angels of course. If Grandmother hadn’t had that cross in her yard the angels wouldn’t have known where you could find me.’ Then you crinkled your little nose. Since that day we’ve called it that.”
“You sure have a gallery full of them. Grandmother always spoke of angels. Maybe she’s been talking to her own special angel. Where are my lovely sisters? Didn’t they ride over with you?” Amanda raised the corners of her lips. The sounds of laughter mixed with a small amount of arguing drew her attention to the front room. Amanda strolled to the area to give her sisters, Bessie, Susan, twins Emma Lou and Pluma Lee, Nancy, Mary and Celeste big hugs. The girls giggled and clung to their big sister for a few moments.
Amanda skipped from the room. Her mind cleared as she walked out the front door. The vision of her parents’ castle with her and her sisters brought sweet memories. Two winding staircases set in front of the main door. They curved up to the second floor gallery. “They look like angel wings rising into the heavens,” she mumbled.
Shaking her head, she wondered where her imagination came from at the tender age of three when she had first seen the home. She had climbed one side of the stairs and looked down on the front yard. The flower garden lay in a circle encased by a cement walkway. In the spring and summer, the air was filled with the fragrance of the roses and gardenias in bloom. She tried to envision what her own yard would look lik
e at Harper’s Hope.
Her heart fluttered. Nick would be joining them for Christmas dinner as her husband. She must work on presenting herself as a prim and proper young married woman. Turning toward the door, she hastened her steps and headed down the hall to her room. In a few hours, she would don her wedding dress and turn into Mrs. Nick Harper. She rummaged through the wardrobe to find just the right ribbon for her hair. Her mind clouded. Should I wear the red one or the green one? Running her fingers down the length of both, she picked the red one. The soft satin caressed her skin and made her feel special when she wore it.
Nick commented on how it made her eyes shine last Easter when she wore it to church. It had turned his head. She had already secured a tad of white lace to the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves on her wedding dress.
Chapter Ten
Nick paced the store in front of the men’s clothing. The new line he ordered had come in and he needed something to wear to Sanders Cross Plantation. Most of the men’s line was work clothes. Only a few dress clothes were sent. He eyed a couple of suits.
The bell on the door rang, and he glanced up. Sam sauntered to his side. “Hello Sam. What can I get for you today?”
“I’m in need of some new clothes. Victoria thinks I should get a new suit. Says she’s tired of my old one.” His turned-up lip sported a newly grown moustache.
“You’re in luck. Or should I say, Victoria is in luck. I received this shipment today. I’ll tell you what, I’ll help you pick one out if you help me.”
“Sounds like a good trade to me. What are you looking for?” Sam fingered through the suits in front of them.
“I need my wedding suit, one comfortable enough to spend the day with my future family in. I don’t have any idea what to get.”
“Ah, a dilemma of sorts. I suppose you want to know what a certain young woman would find attractive.” Sam’s brows wrinkled across his forehead.
The heat rushed up Nick’s neck and covered his cheeks. He nodded his head. “So can you help me? I know nothing of fashion. The company sends me things for the store, and I sell them. I don’t keep up with what is acceptable to wear like they do in Paris or any other place.”