The Scars of a Pure Heart

by Grace Clemens

  Macie looked around him and caught her first look of Judy Bradfield. The older woman was shorter with gray hair, her son’s hazel eyes, and a decidedly rotund figure. Wrinkles had long since settled in around her eyes and mouth. Macie hoped that this woman’s sweet, motherly appearance would prove to have sunken below her skin, too.

  Judy was examining Macie with as much curiosity. The older woman’s head cocked and her eyes widened. Macie could almost hear her think, “What in the world is Blake up to?”

  “Mama, this is Miss Macie Sheldon. Macie, this is my mother, Judy Bradfield.” Blake made the introduction neatly then stepped back, looking between the two women with anxious eyes.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Macie said politely. She stepped forward and put out a hand. The formal manners she’d learned from Aunt Jane were completely unnecessary here. From what she remembered of her life before moving east, a friendly handshake was welcome enough for anyone she might meet.

  Judy slid her own warm hand into Macie’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “As am I. Though I must admit, I can only guess as to why Blake brought you here.” Mrs. Bradfield threw her son a hopeful, questioning look.

  Macie stepped back closer to Blake and looked up at him.

  He swallowed before saying, “It’s a bit of a story, Ma. I’d like to wait until Pa’s here and maybe Troy and Harris, too.”

  “I see,” Judy said, still at sea.

  “I was hoping that Macie might be able to stay here for a few days,” Blake hedged.

  His mother’s face turned wry and her hands went to her ample hips. “I thought I taught you better manners than that, boy.”

  To Macie’s surprise, the big man next to her grinned bashfully and ducked his head before rephrasing, “Ma, would it be all right if Macie stayed here?”

  Judy sighed and turned to Macie, “I’ve done all I can with him. If you’re who I think you are, don’t blame me. A mother can only do so much.”

  Macie felt her cheeks heat and she found herself smiling in return. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised playfully.

  “I like this girl,” Judy announced. “Did she bring more than just that carpet bag?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Blake replied automatically.

  “Well, you might as well go and get it. Bring it to the guest room. Come with me, Miss Sheldon. Are you, by any chance, related to Abner and Lydia Sheldon who used to live around these parts?” Judy headed off towards the hallway, not bothering to wait to see if Macie followed her or if Blake did as she’d commanded.

  Macie trailed after Mrs. Bradfield, shaking her head at the way Blake scurried off to complete his mother’s wishes. It was rather endearing, she decided, before giving her answer.

  Chapter 9

  Blake couldn’t seem to settle to anything as he waited for his father and brothers to finish the chores and get home for supper. On the other hand, Macie seemed to have made herself at home. She was already in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with his mother and chatting as though they were the oldest of friends. Unable to concentrate, he gave up on the newspaper in his hand and tossed it onto the table beside his chair before sitting back and letting his eyes slide closed.

  The women’s voices drifted to him from the next room over and a small smile played over his lips as he listened.

  “Do you remember Reverend Hammond?” his mother asked.

  “Yes. He came to Elmswood about a year before I left,” Macie replied.

  “That’s right. Has it been that long? Goodness, how the years go by,” Judy laughed. “Hand me that bowl, please. Thank you. Well, Reverend Hammond and his wife have done great things to the parsonage. We raised funds and built it for the pastor before him.”

  “Was that Pastor Burke?” inquired Macie in her musical alto voice.

  “That’s right. When we built the parsonage, it was quite modest. Of course, Pastor Burke was a single man and his needs were simple. The Hammonds have had two additions built on since they arrived. Reverend Hammond is the son of a builder. All he needed was the funds and a helping hand now and again and he’s turned the little house into a fine place, indeed. We’re all so proud of it, though we’ve had hardly anything to do with actually building it,” Blake’s mother chuckled.

  Noise at the kitchen door brought Blake instantly to his feet. From the greetings, he knew that his father and both brothers had just entered. Well, there was no better time than the present to tell them about his bride-to-be. He took great comfort from the welcome his mother had given Macie. With any luck, Len, Troy, and Harris would be every bit as glad for the young couple.

  But Judy insisted that they all wash up for supper before Blake could say anything. Troy argued that Clora was expecting him. It took only one quelling look from his mother and the oldest Bradfield boy meekly took a seat at the long table, putting off returning home until Blake could share his news.

  Len gave the blessing and food was passed before eyes turned expectantly to Blake. His mother was sparkling at him, while his father sported a knowing look. Harris, Blake noticed, kept glancing at Macie, blushing, and looking back down at his plate while grinning a little stupidly. Even Troy couldn’t pretend he was unaffected by the woman sitting next to Blake. Clora was real pretty, he thought proudly, but she didn’t hold a candle to his Macie.

  “A little while back,” Blake began the story, “Macie and I began to write to each other. She was living with her aunt in Connecticut and wanted to come back to Elmswood. You’ve all been pestering me to get a wife, so we decided to go ahead and get hitched.”

  Judy burst into tears and cried, “Oh, I’m so glad! I was hoping that’s why you’d come!”

  “Congratulations,” Harris said genuinely.

  Blake looked at his father who nodded solemnly before stretching out his arm and giving his middle son’s hand a firm shake. It was, Blake decided, a good sign.

  He glanced over at Macie, wondering what she thought of the summary of their relationship. Did she think he’d been dishonest? True, he’d glazed over some of the details. Was it wrong of him to leave out the fact that he’d placed an ad for a wife? Blake’s version of events had made it sound as though they’d kept in contact after Macie had left town.

  But she was looking relieved, accepting his family’s congratulations and acceptance with a happy flush on her cheeks. If she minded his words, Macie didn’t show it. Blake made a mental note to ask her about it later.

  “I’d best get back to Clora,” announced Troy.

  Blake watched his older brother closely. Troy hadn’t offered any words of congratulations. Did he disapprove of Macie or their plans? And, if he did, did it matter to Blake? Three out of four of his family members had given their approval. Surely their votes canceled out Troy’s veto.

  Yet, even after the door closed behind Troy and the family started eating with gusto, Blake’s eyes drifted to the door and he felt as if he had a pebble in his shoe. It took some of the fun out of the evening, he found. And, unbeknownst to Blake, there was a permanent furrow in his forehead that Macie noticed and worried over.

  ***

  Macie could hardly believe the warm welcome she’d received from Blake’s family. Why, she felt right at home here in the Blakefield house! Aunt Jane and Lorna had been very kind when they took her in five years ago, but their east coast manners had been so stiff that Macie had never quite settled into their home. It felt so good to be back in Texas where everything was so natural and easy.

  “When are you planning the wedding?” inquired Judy, flushed with excitement.

  Macie glanced down the table at Blake, who was most definitely preoccupied. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Blake thought Sunday after church.”

  “You’ll have to go and get a marriage license soon, then,” Len said with a nod.

  All eyes turned to Blake. It took him a moment to realize everyone was staring at him.

  “Sorry, my mind was wandering,” he said to his audience, once he’d snapped b
ack to attention.

  Len repeated his comment about the marriage license and added, “I’m headed to town tomorrow. Would you care to come along?”

  “Er, no. I was planning to go Friday,” Blake said.

  Was it her imagination or did Blake look like he was hiding something? Macie watched his ears turn red. He was certainly acting shifty. And why did he keep scowling at the kitchen door? She’d been here the entire time he had been and couldn’t think why Blake would have reason to be upset about anything.

  “I have an appointment to see Iver Kennedy on Friday,” explained the middle Bradfield son hastily. “No point in making an extra trip when there’s so much work to be done around here.”

  Macie glanced at her future father-in-law who accepted this explanation with a nod. She eyed Blake surreptitiously as the conversation swirled around them. Something was certainly going on with him.

  “The men folk can do the dishes tonight,” announced Judy once their plates were emptied. “I want to have a minute with my newest daughter.”

  The men took this command with aplomb, Macie was glad to see. None of the society men she knew back in Hartford would have washed the supper dishes so cheerfully. It was the sort of thing her father and brother had done around their cabin from time to time and Macie found that she had a lump in her throat as she watched the three remaining Bradfield men start clearing the table.

  It felt so good to be back in Texas! It was so good to finally be at home. Surely, it was just a matter of time before Macie could convince Blake to let her visit her family’s old homestead. And then she would be able to come to terms, at last, with the loss of her parents and brother. Then everything would be all right.

  Judy took her hand and pulled her to a back bedroom. She turned up the lamp and ordered Macie to sit on a handy stool. The younger woman’s eyes roved the room. There was a wide bed with a thick mattress, a bright quilt, and a chest of drawers. A homemade sampler was stitched and hanging on the wall, announcing that “love is patient, love is kind.” Macie noticed a framed daguerreotype photograph on the dresser of the three Bradfield boys in younger years. This was clearly Judy and Len’s bedroom.

  “I don’t know what you have planned, but I’d be ever so pleased if you would consider wearing the dress I wore at my wedding.” Judy turned to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress box from the top shelf. Then she turned back and placed it on the bed.

  Macie watched Mrs. Bradfield pull away layers of crumbling tissue paper with wide eyes. Finally, the older woman drew out a beautiful ivory gown. Macie gasped at the sight of such an elegant dress. She couldn’t keep herself from standing and reverently running her hand over the shiny satin and delicate lace. There were seed pearls decorating the bodice and pearl buttons at the cuffs. Clearly, this was a family heirloom, and Judy wanted to share it with Macie.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, tears threatening to spill over.

  Judy looked up at Macie, her face determined. “Now, I know it isn’t at the height of fashion any more. And you might already have a dress of your own you planned to wear. But if you need this one, you’re welcome to it.”

  “No, I don’t have a dress yet,” Macie hurried to say. “I would be honored to wear it. I never expected to wear such a gown to my wedding.”

  Judy dimpled at the genuine acceptance. “I was the only girl in my family and my mother saved for years so I could have a beautiful wedding dress. Len and I were married fifteen years after Queen Victoria married Albert. She wore a white gown and it was all the rage in those days to wear white or ivory. My father thought it was terribly impractical to buy a new dress that was white and could only be worn once.” Judy laughed wistfully. “Still, my mother had her way and I was always glad she did. I felt like a queen on my wedding day in this dress.”

  “Mama didn’t have a special wedding dress,” Macie said softly. “She just wore her Sunday best. All of my family’s clothes were burned after the smallpox. I don’t have much belonging to them.” Her hand went to her locket under her dress.

  Tears were brimming in Judy’s eyes now, too, as she gathered the younger woman into her arms. Macie let herself be hugged as she hadn’t been in more than five years, sure that her heart would burst with happiness. She still had reservations about marrying a near stranger, but she was certain that marrying into the Bradfield family was the right decision.

  “All right, enough of this,” Judy announced. She waved at her watery eyes. “I’m guessing you’d like a bath and an early bedtime. Am I right?”

  And it was then that Macie was hit with just how tired she actually was. She nodded, crying now because Blake’s mother was so understanding. Yes, an early bedtime would most certainly be a good idea.

  ***

  Blake was tasked with bringing the copper bathtub into Macie’s bedroom and hauling in enough water from the pump in the yard to fill it. It was a chore he usually hated. Tonight, though, he imagined just how glad Macie would probably be to get cleaned up after such a long, hot, dusty train journey. For once, he didn’t mind the chore at all. In fact, he even went back to the pump for one more bucketful than usual so that she could have a good long soak.

  It was on his last trip that he ran into Troy who was similarly coming to use the pump.

  “Clora says to tell you congratulations,” Troy grunted when he drew close to his brother.

  Light from the house fell over the two men, but Blake found it was too dark still to read Troy’s expression.

  “Tell Clora thanks,” Blake replied carefully.

  He gave the handle a few more hearty pumps before moving his bucket and letting his brother step in.

  “What do you think of Macie?” Blake inquired.

  Troy shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t spend much time with her.”

  Blake narrowed his eyes at the older man. Troy Bradfield had an opinion about everyone and everything. He crossed his arms and said, “All right, Troy, what’s going on? You aren’t happy about this and I’d like to know why.”

  Slowly, Troy straightened and then shoved his hands into his hip pockets. He let his eyes rove everywhere but Blake’s face until finally he collected his thoughts and looked his brother in the eye.

  “It seems fishy to me, that’s all,” Troy said briefly.

  Blake’s stomach twisted. Be calm, he told himself, Troy doesn’t know anything. He’s just a suspicious sort.

  “What’s fishy about it?” Blake replied, hoping he sounded unperturbed.

  Troy scratched his forehead with his thumb and sighed heavily. “I don’t mean to get you all upset or anything, Blake. It’s just strange to me that you haven’t ever mentioned Macie Sheldon or wanting to get married and now suddenly here she is. You hardly noticed her back when we were kids. How is it that you kept in touch all this time without our knowing about it?”

  Blake only kept himself from wincing at the accusations with sheer willpower. It was a fair question, though, and one that he’d hoped that no one would think to ask.

  “We got in touch recently,” he hedged. Maybe he could reveal the tiniest bit more of the truth and still keep the bulk of it hidden away. “As I said, she was looking to move back. I started thinking about the idea of getting married after Granddad passed. There wasn’t anyone around here I was interested in marrying, though. Once we started writing, Macie and I got along well. It seemed like a good idea. People marry for all sorts of reasons, don’t they?” He trailed off and shrugged.

  He couldn’t be sure in the darkness, but Troy seemed to be watching him very closely. Blake had the uneasy feeling that his story hadn’t been as convincing as he’d hoped.

  “It’s the truth,” he added. No sooner than the words were out of his mouth than he winced. Nothing made him sound like he was hiding something more than insisting that he was being honest.