Freida reached up, pulled his head down, and gave him a resounding kiss on both cheeks. “Your wife! You’re getting married! Such wonderful news!” And then, inevitably: “I told you, I was right!”
Joshua reached out to clasp her hands. “You were right, as you so often are.”
Freida cocked her head and looked suddenly shy. “So we’ll be two brides, your Clara and I.”
Joshua kept hold of her hands. “You must know I wish you every happiness.”
“Happy, why shouldn’t I be happy? At my age, to see new places, meet all sorts of people, have a companion after all this time, it’s a blessing. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn to do magic tricks for the show, people won’t believe their eyes!”
Joshua let go of her hands as he realized he was still wearing his hat. He took it off and hung it on the hook near the door. “I have a request to make, if your own plans do not preclude it. Would you make Clara’s wedding dress?”
Tears glimmered in Freida’s eyes before she blinked them away. “Of course, would I let anyone else make your bride’s dress, I’d snatch the cloth out of their hands first. She can come for a fitting any time, or I can go to her at Rebecca’s, whatever she likes, so exciting!”
Freida would have enough to do, and quite sufficient activity, without crossing town to Miss Wheeler’s. “I believe she would be most happy to come here, where you have all your measuring apparatus and samples ready to hand. But what of your own wedding attire?”
Freida snorted. “Why should I need to get fancy, at my age?”
“I cannot allow you to deck Clara in finery while you go to your wedding without. Will you accept the necessary fabric and other supplies for your own dress as a wedding gift?”
She hesitated. “You shouldn’t, you’ll need your money for your new household, so many things you’ll have to get! But . . . you really want to, dear man, I’ll say yes.”
At least with two fine dresses to prepare, she would perforce be in town a little longer.
Joshua did his best to spruce up before heading to the boardinghouse, brushing his frock coat and hat, giving his boots yet another polish. From what he could see of himself in his mirror, he looked as good as he was going to. “Major, what do you think? Do I make a presentable gentleman caller?”
Major wagged his tail, eyes bright with delight at being addressed. Joshua bent to stroke his tawny coat. “Wish me good fortune, then.” He made his way to the boardinghouse and found himself whistling a dimly remembered tune.
He was not entirely at ease about seeing Rebecca Wheeler under the present circumstances, but she opened her door with an amused smile on her lips and a matching light in her eyes. Evidently his lack of interest in Freida’s earlier matchmaking attempt had not left her particularly disappointed. She ushered him in and said, before he found the words to ask, “Clara is in the sitting room. And may I offer you my congratulations? I do hope you’ll be very happy.”
Joshua bowed. “Thank you. I am already happier than I deserve.”
His hostess scoffed. “You both deserve every good thing, after the service you have given this country and this community.” Clara must have confided in her. He shrugged awkwardly. Miss Wheeler smiled again and led him down the hall.
Clara was sitting in an armchair leafing through a book when Miss Wheeler opened the door and waved him in. The door closed behind him; Clara put the book on a side table and stood, her hands clasped in front of her. She wore a dress he had not seen before, in some patterned fabric whose predominant green complemented her eyes.
She looked cautiously relieved to see him. Had she doubted that he would come? Even thought he might be regretting their engagement? He must dispel any such supposition at once. He strode toward her and grasped her hands, looking in her eyes. “I am so glad to see you.”
Her clenched hands relaxed, and she smiled at him. “And I am glad to hear you say it. Won’t you sit down?”
“Not yet.”
Clara’s eyes widened as Joshua let go of her hands, only to move his hands to her shoulders. “There is a — a privilege I have been longing to exercise.”
She looked in his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. He no longer felt tension in her shoulders, but she was just perceptibly trembling. Usually so forthright of speech, she said nothing, only gazing at him. He stood holding her, hesitating. And then she stepped closer to him, her eyes bright, and lifted her face to his. He could not say whether he or she closed the last distance between them as their lips finally touched.
The soft sweetness, the warmth of her lips meeting his, was like nothing he could remember. He had kissed a girl or two in his awkward youth, and he had kissed the girls at Madam Mamie’s in the frenzied urgency of passion, but he had known nothing like this tingling sensation spreading through him. He longed to press her closer to him, but refrained. It was only the first kiss. There would be many more.
His heart sung hosannas to Heaven above.
Mr. Kennedy and his medicine show returned to town three days later. Joshua noted with a complicated mixture of feelings the ebullient air with which the pitchman addressed the crowd. Freida must have given him her answer. The show’s performance that day was noticeably abbreviated. The performers dispersed, all apparently heading for saloons, while the pitchman disappeared into the back of his wagon. Seized with curiosity, Joshua strolled around to a spot in front of the dry goods store from which he could see into the wagon. He was unsurprised to see Freida sitting on the upholstered bench inside, and only momentarily surprised to see her stand up and open her arms wide, inviting and joining in a hearty embrace and enthusiastic kiss. The man’s height and broad shoulders made Freida look, if not small, less bulky than usual, and the strength of his grasp had lifted her to her toes. Was that a muffled moan of pleasure he heard from her?
Joshua’s lips seemed to tingle with the memory of his visit to Clara at the boardinghouse. Clara was back at Joshua’s office now, dealing with anyone who wandered in while Joshua was absent. It would be imprudent to repeat that delightful experience in such a setting, prior to their marriage. He had already decided so. But how tempting the thought!
The embrace showed no signs of concluding. Joshua backed away, turned, and headed for his office, breathing deep to dispel the alluring visions in his head.
* * * * *
Joshua escorted Clara to Freida’s when she went to be fitted for her dress, and was unsurprised to find Mr. Kennedy seated at her table, working his way through a very large helping of sausage and onions. Mr. Kennedy shoved back his chair, wiped his mouth, and stood up as Joshua and Clara entered. “Miss Brook, I hear I am not the only fortunate man in town. My very best wishes, and may Dr. Gibbs here treat you like a queen.”
Clara lifted an eyebrow. “I would be most uncomfortable with such treatment, and have sufficient faith in Dr. Gibbs to consider it unlikely. My congratulations to you, sir. And my best wishes to you, Mrs. Blum, and my thanks for taking time for me with everything else you must have to arrange.”
Freida rolled her eyes. “So much to do! So much to pack, to sell, to give away. Joshua, tell dear Alton, I want the two of you to take all the books you want, the rest should go to the social library. But listen to me run on, you’re here about Clara’s dress and I’m excited to make it, you’ll look so lovely! Come let me show you some colors that would look perfect on you, you can choose.”
Clara followed Freida into her bedroom, leaving Joshua relieved at the warmth Freida now showed his intended. Mr. Kennedy interrupted his thoughts by holding out his hand and saying, “I hope you will call me Jedidiah from now on.”
Joshua accepted the handshake. “Of course, and please call me Joshua.”
Jedidiah strolled over to the stove. “Appears there’s a whole lot more of this excellent dish. Will you join me?”
It struck Joshua for the first time that he had little time left to enjoy Freida’s cooking. It was a very unsettling thought indeed. He felt rather like a child looking
at a “Closing Soon” sign at the local ice cream parlor. “I will join you, and gladly.”
Freida swept back in, Clara in her wake, before he had finished his serving. “Oh, good, I’m so glad you’re eating, it shouldn’t go to waste, not even Jedidiah can eat that much. You want, I can give Clara the recipe, all my recipes, you can enjoy them after we leave town.”
Joshua worked to keep his voice steady as he asked, “Will you be leaving for good, then, rather than circling back as the wagon has lately done?”
“Going in circles, it seems silly with a whole country to see. Sooner or later, we’ll pass back through, so many people I’ll be happy to see again, but first, Jedidiah has so much new to show me, so long since I’ve been anywhere but here!”
Jedidiah added, “Our first goal will be to find a Jewish community in which we can be married. I have hopes of Denver, Colorado, but if Denver lacks a sufficient number of Jewish residents, we will head for Tombstone, Arizona, where there is already a — what is the word? Oh, yes, synagogue.” He pronounced the word with almost exaggerated care.
Freida shook her gray curls. “Men, do they listen? I told him, no rabbi will marry a Jew and a Christian, but he knows better, he thinks he can talk anyone into anything.”
Jedidiah reached out to take Freida’s hand and wink at her. “Do you really doubt it? You must admit that persuasion is one of my well developed skills.” His face grew more sober. “Although if it comes to it, I would be willing to embrace your faith.”
Joshua stared at the two of them and then caught himself. “Then you will not wed before you depart.” He managed not to add the word “together.”
Freida snorted. “What, you’re worrying about my reputation? We’ll have one strong man, two dancing girls, and a lasso-throwing cowboy as chaperones, you can relax.”
“Of course,” Joshua replied. “I will be sorry not to attend your wedding, but I understand your desire for your own rites.”
Freida cast her gaze around her rooms, with all the furniture and knick-knacks she would be leaving behind. “You and Clara, you should both choose something from the shelves to remember me by.”
Joshua could not speak for the lump in his throat. Swallowing it, he took both her hands in his. “Freida, dear Freida, you are in any case utterly unforgettable.”
The next time Joshua stopped by, he was surprised to see that very little had changed: Freida’s spacious sitting room was still crowded with furniture and books and bric-a-brac. Freida took in his bewilderment, but said nothing about it, instead asking with a casual air, “You and Clara, where are you going to live?”
That question had been troubling Joshua considerably. They could not currently afford to build a house, and he had found no suitable rooms or cottage to let. “We’ll made do with my rooms for now. We’re both of us used to worse.”
“Used to, nothing, why shouldn’t you have more than what you used to? I’ve had an idea, better than the two of you crammed into such a place, you should take this house, and I can leave all the furniture, you sell what you don’t want, buy what you like. I won’t be needing it, it’ll be my wedding present to you, I didn’t make you a new suit, this will be better anyway.”
Joshua’s jaw dropped. He looked around at the kitchen, the sitting room, the bedchamber. He had never noticed the size of the bed. Had she brought it from New York? It was big enough for two. He shook off the image of sharing it with Clara. “That’s enormously generous, but we couldn’t possibly — you should sell it. If the sale isn’t complete before you leave, I could wire you the money —”
She gave an unusually vigorous snort. “Money, what would I spend it on? Jedidiah does well enough, he wouldn’t want me offering to support him, I shouldn’t think, and what could I buy worth carrying from place to place? You live here in good health, I’ll be happy to think of you finally having a kitchen, not even a proper stove you have in those little rooms!”
He swallowed a considerable lump in his throat and managed to say, “I’ll speak to Clara, and if she tells me my reluctance is unnecessary, we’ll take this house with the utmost gratitude. I’ll sell anything we don’t need, and I will wire you the proceeds, whether you expect to need them or no. And this place will always be here to welcome you.”
Freida patted his cheek. “There’s a good boy. Now sit down and have some plum cake, a new recipe, Rachel brought it from back east, her fiancé loves it.”
* * * * *
Joshua’s parents and his oldest sister Beth were able to make the journey to attend the wedding. Clara’s uncle would be attending as well. His letter accepting the invitation expressed his surprise at how long it had taken for them to come to the point.
It took little discussion to confirm that Joshua and Clara each felt some apprehension about the arrival of their family members. Joshua proposed that both of them go the station as each set of relations arrived. Clara raised both eyebrows at him. “Did you imagine I would excuse you from encountering my uncle? Perish the thought. I will, of course, have the easier task.”
There was some truth in her observation. The unfinished business between Joshua and his family, his failure ever to fully explain why he had left, did not involve Clara, and his parents and sister would know as much. But he thought Clara was understating the degree to which her intelligent empathy would pull her into the emotional currents surrounding the meeting.
As the train bearing Clara’s uncle pulled into the station, Joshua took Clara’s hand and stood close beside her. But when the passengers began descending from the cars, Clara squeezed his hand once and stepped in front of him. He had no time to catch up before she stood face to face with her uncle. Their family resemblance, which Joshua had failed to notice previously, was evident as niece and uncle scrutinized each other. Both, it seemed, were soon satisfied. Clara’s shoulders relaxed, and Mr. Brook reached out to clasp Clara’s hands.
As Joshua rejoined Clara, Mr. Brook released Clara’s hands, but did not immediately offer his hand to Joshua. Regarding him with a glance almost as keen as those his niece could command, he said, “I will offer you a pact, young man. If you will bear no grudge for my not entirely trusting you at our previous meeting, I will not inquire as to the role you may have played in my niece’s unhappiness at that time.”
Clara bristled. “Uncle, that is entirely —”
Joshua laid a hand gently on her arm. “If I may respond?”
Clara turned to him, indignation still showing on her face but soon replaced with wry amusement. “If you like. I must say I am curious to hear it.”
Joshua turned back to Mr. Brook. “As I believe your niece was about to say, I do not believe her state of mind during that period was primarily due to any uncertainties she may have had about the state of my affections, nor am I at all sure she desired to win those affections at that time.” By his side, Clara stirred as if suppressing some comment. He, in turn, suppressed his curiosity about what it could have been, and went on. “However, I cannot entirely acquit myself of responsibility. I was aware that in assisting me with a medical procedure all too common during the war, she was recalling and to some extent re-experiencing past traumas. Yet I did nothing, in the following days, to ascertain how she was faring or offer any assistance. For that failure, I ask both her and your forgiveness. And if you grant me yours, I will ask for your hand on it.”
Mr. Brook studied Joshua for one long moment more and then extended his hand at last.
They had time to escort Mr. Brook to Cowbird Creek’s sole hotel before returning to meet Joshua’s parents and sister. The warmth and excitement with which his mother and sister greeted both him and Clara, and the prompt and hearty handshake with his father, made for a notable contrast with the preceding more awkward encounter. But by the time they had walked to the hotel, with Joshua, his father, and Clara carrying all the suitcases for the party, the initial babble of conversation had died away. Clara pulled Joshua aside as the visitors dealt with the clerk. “The office
has gone unattended long enough, I think. And you and your family will need some private time together.”
He had little concern for the office at the moment, but he reluctantly agreed with the latter point. He held her shoulders between his hands, wishing he could kiss her; she gave him a reassuring smile and strode away, leaving him to negotiate the familial shoals alone.
His father assisted by suggesting that the two of them have a drink in the hotel’s saloon. It was perhaps early in the afternoon for drinking, but Joshua would not reject the overture, and could in fact use some liquid courage before talking to his mother.
His father, having taken the initiative, now appeared content to let Joshua open any conversation. Joshua waited for their mugs of beer to arrive and then held his aloft for a toast. “To Clara.”
His father hoisted his glass with a good will. “To Clara, indeed. I am delighted, not to say relieved, that you have found yourself a bride. Your mother had begun to despair of it.”
Joshua could hardly expect otherwise. He took a swallow of beer before replying. “Indeed, I was not in search of one. In fact, I had for some while been resisting friendly efforts to find a wife for me.” His thoughts inevitably strayed to Freida, and the parting soon to come. With some difficulty, he held to his jovial tone. “Had I not met Clara, I might well have remained forever a bachelor. It is to Clara my mother owes the relief of her feelings.”
His father raised his glass again. “To the end of your mother’s laments about her unwed son!”
They clinked their glasses together this time, then sat quietly drinking for several minutes. At a loss for other topics, Joshua finally said, “I would ask you to tell me about your book, but I am certain Clara would want to hear you describe it.”
His father chuckled. “If so, she is indeed a paragon, and you are greatly blessed.” He drained his glass. “And now, I should return you to your mother and sister.”
What Heals the Heart Page 27