Geneva: Garden of Joy (Brides of Grace Hill Book 1)

by Lisa Prysock

  Edna Tipper came to her daily each morning for menu plans and instructions to keep the house running smoothly, as well as delivering mail, the newspaper, and household bills from a few vendors. Each day she greeted Edna with a Welsh good morning and thank you as she accepted the day’s mail and invoices: “Bore da, Edna! Diolch!”

  Geneva set the invoices aside in a tidy stack on Aunt Millie’s desk, unwilling to open the cash box she’d seen her aunt use for writing drafts and paying purveyors. She did her best to keep things running the way they always did, relying heavily on Edna’s suggestions. The creditors would simply have to wait.

  Miss Tilson proved to be calm, supportive, and steady as a rock; though a bit teary at first. “Emma, let’s try to maintain the schedule and keep the students focused on their lessons so we don’t create a panic,” Geneva proposed at breakfast on the first Monday morning after Aunt Millie’s disappearance.

  “I wholeheartedly agree, Geneva!” Emma nodded as she dabbed her handkerchief at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know how this could’ve happened, or why this is happening, but we’ll just have to pray and trust the Lord.”

  “’Tis exactly what I think we should do,” Jen agreed, her own eyes welling up with tears.

  “At our evening prayers, the girls and I will pray for her safe return every night. We’ll also pray for her safety every morning at breakfast.” Emma lowered her voice. “Here come some of the girls now. Be strong and firm with them Geneva. We support you. You’ll have to lead us and keep things together in your aunt’s absence.”

  Geneva nodded, “I’ll do my best. I just can’t let Aunt Millie down.”

  Polly was a great encouragement to Geneva each morning and throughout the day during clothing changes when doubts and fears swirled around her mind. “Ye just keep prayin’ me dear girl. The Lord will work wonders! He’ll bring yer Aunt Millie home soon.”

  “I’m counting on that, Polly,” she replied as the faithful servant pulled her corset strings tighter.

  “Ridge will be ‘ere soon,” Polly added.

  “Do you think so?” Geneva couldn’t help but wonder at how long it had been since he had been gone.

  “Aye, I do, Miss Rosemont,” Polly clucked. “Anyone can see how much he likes ye and yer Aunt Millie with jus’ one look at ‘im. Why he’s o’er the moon fer ya, lass!”

  Geneva smiled hopefully with a pink blush, “Efallai[20]… hopefully he will return to us if the good Lord answers our prayers. Ouch! Don’t brush my hair so hard, os gweli di’n dda[21]!”

  “Sori[22]!” Polly brushed her hair a bit more lightly. She parted it down the middle and gave her five long, springy curls on each side of her head using a curling iron she warmed using the flame of a candle. The hairstyle looked lovely on Geneva. “Now, to get you dressed…”

  “Ydw! Polly, not the pretty lawn dress today… I have to teach the girls cooking this afternoon since Aunt Millie isn’t here. The serviceable peach and pink calico with a white apron will do just fine. It has pretty bell shaped sleeves stopping before my wrists so it won’t get in the way when I’m stirring the cake batter.”

  “Oh, ye be makin’ a cake today, Miss Rosemont! Mwynhewch eich bwyd[23]!”

  “Diolch!” Geneva thanked Polly as she stepped into the calico day dress. “Now for my riding boots!”

  “Yer riding boots?” Polly blinked with her mouth open, her round face and rosy cheeks not understanding. The boots wouldn’t look proper with anything but the customary riding habit Aunt Millie had ordered for her niece.

  “I’m making my own search of the area each morning instead of taking my morning walk. Royal Anna and I are looking in places around the manor, just in case!”

  Polly’s mouth dropped open. “Should not ye best wait until Ridge returns? What if ye get hurt or ye happen upon them? Then what? They’re sure to have guns! Then what’ll ye do? ‘Tis best to wait an’ see if the constable finds them!”

  “I know… but ‘tis a chance I’ll have to take. It’s been days and the constable has turned up with nothing. You said yourself to trust the Lord. He’ll just have to keep me safe, too!”

  Polly couldn’t argue with her. She shook her head and helped Geneva into the riding boots. Standing back, she shook her head again.

  “’Twon’t do!” Polly rummaged through a drawer in the wardrobe and returned. “’ere, step in this!” She held out an extra-long petticoat for beneath the dress to be sure the boots couldn’t be seen.

  “Good idea!” Geneva agreed. She held up her skirts, stepped into the petticoat, allowed Polly to button the closure at her back, and dropped her hooped skirts to the floor. She was ready!

  “Wait! Do ye remember lass how to make a cake?” Polly inquired when she turned toward the door.

  “Of course, I remember!” She looked indignantly at Polly. “I had two great cooks to learn from between you and Mama!”

  Polly relaxed her shoulders. “Ydw[24], ’tis true, ye did!”

  Chapter 16.

  Miss Emma Tilson

  11 Thou has turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; 12 To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever. Psalm 30:11-12

  All of her searches for Aunt Millie had been in vain. She had ridden for miles and miles on Royal Anna in the surrounding countryside. She’d even taken a trip into the city, but Louisville, Kentucky was so large she’d hardly known where to begin. The constable had made a search of most of the hotels in the area, including the Galt House where Charles Dickens had visited. She knew about Dickens visiting from reading the newspapers Mama said ladies shouldn’t read. She wisely decided to contain her search efforts to the shopping district, but soon gave up and returned to scouring the rural areas. Everywhere she looked seemed like a possibility in the city. Each window, every door, each building looked as though her aunt might be inside. It was nearly impossible to comb an entire city without help.

  Furthermore, she barely knew what she was looking for other than her aunt’s face. Each elderly lady with white hair and a figure similar to Millie Bradford caused her heart to jump with hope. She was no closer to finding her aunt than she had been the day before, except she knew of more locations where her aunt was not. The constable and his search party hadn’t found any other clues either. Caleb hadn’t returned with Ridge. She’d almost worn a hole in Aunt Millie’s pink slipper twisting it in her hands. With each passing day, their hopes grew frailer and tensions at Grace Hill higher.

  To make matters worse, the pile of invoices to pay seemed to be growing and they needed more supplies. They were beginning to run low in coffee, tea, sugar, flour, cornmeal, kerosene oil, and paper. A visit to the bank to ask for credit against Aunt Millie’s funds had also been a waste of time. The bank manager couldn’t offer her any credit. Upon advice from the business manager, Joseph Kemp, she’d managed to locate the key to the cash box. There hadn’t been enough cash inside to pay a single invoice or meet next month’s payroll. They had to find Millie soon. If only Ridge were there! He would know exactly what to do.

  Henry, Hank, Joseph, and Reverend Granby formed their own search party and combed the countryside on horseback everyday looking for any sign of Millie. This too proved to be a monumental task. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. They returned to Grace Hill each day with disappointment written in their eyes, but Bird-dog, Timothy, and Abner encouraged them by keeping up with much of the workload and putting in extra hours. The staff began to look worn and weary, but no one dared complain. They had to keep the searching up until they found Mrs. Bradford.

  Geneva found herself elated the staff didn’t try to stop her from taking more frequent rides on Royal Anna. Each morning, Bird-dog had the beautiful horse saddled and ready to ride. Jen worried he might disappear, but she had the feeling he felt uneasy about leaving Grace Hill in crisis when Millicent Bradford had been so good to him. If he had
been thinking of crossing the “Jordan,” he had apparently decided to wait until Millie was found.

  Bird-dog always stood looking so hopeful when the other men set out to search each morning. She didn’t have to ponder the reason he remained behind to keep things running smoothly. He had their horses saddled with blankets, canteens of water, and provisions when the men finished their early breakfast meal in the Staff Dining Hall. With stories of slave catchers in the region running rampant, it was far too dangerous for him to consider riding about in broad daylight all over the countryside; even with the others there to defend him, and even though she’d heard Joseph confide to Millie Bird-dog had papers now stating he was a free man. The papers were likely obtained under less than favorable circumstances and might not hold up in a court of law.

  Geneva could only hope the searches conducted by the constable and those of Grace Hill would have good success each day. She continued conducting her own search, but she was careful not to mention it. Nonetheless, Bird-dog searched her eyes whenever she returned from her rides and stocked her horse with a canteen of water, blankets, and the good Lord only knew what else. Each of her morning rides seemed to grow longer than the one the day before, but she was careful to return to teach her classes on time and begin her rides earlier when she planned to ride farther. She refused to disrupt the schedule the students were accustomed to since routine was a reassuring comfort to the students and an honor to what surely would have been Aunt Millie’s wishes if she had not been missing.

  “Emma, my aunt took me to a general store with a Welsh owner one day when we had a fitting at Miss Craig’s seamstress shop. Do you perchance know where the store might be located?” Geneva inquired. “I can’t seem to remember, but the owner spoke fluent Welsh to me.”

  They were seated in Aunt Millie’s second floor Sitting Room staring at her aunt’s empty chair from the sofa across from the fireplace. Usually, Geneva sat in the chair beside Aunt Millie’s chair… and Ridge would sit on the sofa where they were now. Ever since Aunt Millie’s disappearance, Miss Tilson had taken to comforting Jen by spending a little time with her in the evenings after the students had finished the evening meal, said their prayers in the Drawing Room, and gone upstairs to sleep.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact… I think I do. Sounds like Peter and Caroline Wesson’s mercantile on Third Street. Mr. Wesson is Welsh.” Emma poured another cup of tea and returned the teapot to the tray on the oval table before the sofa. “Were you thinking they might be of some help to us?”

  “Yes, I thought he might be willing to extend me a little credit until we find Aunt Millie,” Geneva nodded as she added a teaspoon of sugar to her tea. She usually added two teaspoons, but as they were running low, one would have to do for now. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to sell any of my aunt’s belongings, though I may not have any other choices at this point…”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I do think Mr. Wesson is a very reasonable fellow,” Emma remarked. “I think he might be willing to work something out to help us keep the mission school running. It’s only a few more weeks until the end of the term for some of our students, but we still house the orphan students and a full staff during the summer.”

  “I think I’ll pay Mr. Wesson a visit tomorrow. I’m so thankful for the help you’ve been through this crisis. I’m glad we’ve had a little extra time to get to know each other. You’re a very good friend, Emma. I guess I have been so busy getting to know my aunt and the students; I haven’t had much extra time to spend with you. Tell me, how did you come to be employed at Grace Hill?”

  “Well, I guess I’m one of your aunt’s first mission endeavors, you might say,” Emma explained. “I lost my parents as a child to scarlet fever, and later found myself homeless on the streets of Louisville as an adult. I’d been raised in an orphanage and worked as a seamstress for a very difficult employer. I guess I became emotionally distraught and overworked. From what I’ve been able to piece together in my memories, my employer wasn’t the easiest person to work for. One day, I woke up on a street corner, cold and hungry… to your aunt’s kind face. I don’t remember how I came to be there. I just know your aunt brought me here. She nursed me back to health. She found out about my love for books. Then she discovered my ability to teach and offered me employment, meals, a stipend, and boarding. I recall assisting the teacher at school when I was in the orphanage. Those years of practice certainly gave me an advantage when it came to teaching. I’ve been on staff with your aunt ever since the dreadful experience. It happened some years after leaving the orphanage. I think I needed a family and deep abiding friendship… like those I’ve come to find here through the grace of God. It’s been almost ten years now. Belle-Raine was just a wee thing when I arrived. Grace Hill is like home for both of us now… and for many of our other students.”

  “Oh Emma, I had no idea!” Jen breathed. “No wonder Belle-Raine looks up to you like a mother.”

  “Did Belle tell you that?”

  “Ydw[25], she most certainly did!”

  “Makes my heart full of joy!” Emma replied. “To know my serving here as a teacher is making a difference in the life of one of my students is enormous encouragement!”

  “Belle-Raine said she felt she had three mothers in you, Delia, and my aunt. I’m sure the other orphans feel the same way. I see it in their faces.”

  “What a comfort to hear! Thank you for sharing this with me,” Emma replied, sitting back on the sofa with a contented smile.

  “You’re quite welcome. Like you, my greatest joy comes from serving the Lord through teaching! The Lord has been gracious in finding me rewarding work. Until I began my work at the Fenway Street Mission and eventually here at Grace Hill Manor & Mission, I don’t think I was very happy. In fact, I think my life felt devoid and without purpose. I’m truly thankful for the work the Lord has given us,” Geneva agreed. “Your story is remarkable. I’m glad you are finally at home here. Let’s just hope I can keep it together until we find Aunt Millie.”

  “You are doing a wonderful job of it,” Emma encouraged. “You must be dealing with homesickness, too.”

  “Ydw, I certainly am at times,” Geneva nodded. Stretching her arms and leaning back on the sofa she added, “What I wouldn’t give for a good loaf of bara brith and an evening before the fire in our cozy, Welsh cottage with my parents!”

  “What’s the matter, Belle-Raine? You look so glum and awfully lonely out here!” Geneva plopped down on the bench in the shrub garden next to Ridge’s daughter. Normally, she found Bird-dog sitting here staring at the river. “It’s almost time for the noonday meal. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Not really,” Belle-Raine replied as she looked down, kicking the ground at nothing in particular.

  “You must be missing your father something dreadful. He’ll be here soon. Surely Caleb has located him by now. They’ll probably be returning at any moment!” She looked out at the river and waited for a reply, but Belle said nothing.

  “You missed your piano lesson this week and another history assignment,” Jen prodded.

  “What if Papa doesn’t return? What if the constable can’t find Mrs. Bradford? Then what Miss Rosemont? What will become of us?” Belle-Raine burst into tears and buried her sobs in Geneva’s arms.

  Geneva was so surprised she nearly crumbled herself, overcome with emotion. Belle pressed her dark curls against her heart and clung to her arms, sobbing with all of the force of a devastated child. All she could do was hold Belle and allow the heartbreak to release. “There, there…” she whispered.

  Belle’s questions were understandable. It had been almost two weeks and still no sign of Aunt Millie or Ridge. It was all Jen could do to maintain her own strength and faith most days. She was running out of words of hope to offer, but at least she could let Ridge’s daughter cry in her arms.

  A male voice from behind rose above Belle’s sobs, startling them both. “Psalm 56:3 says ‘What time I am afraid, I will t
rust in God.’”

  “Papa!” Belle-Raine cried out. Joy returned to her countenance through tear-stained cheeks as she sat up straight and blinked, recognizing her father’s voice instantaneously. It took a few seconds to register he was indeed standing before them. Belle jumped up to embrace her father, running into him so hard he had to take one step back. “Papa! Where have you been?”

  “Ridge!” Geneva stood up and turned to look at him. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she choked back a gulp in her throat and wiped her own tears away. She could hardly believe he was standing there in his black suit as if he’d never been gone.