“His family sent me to find him,” Wally replied, skirting the question and keeping up the pretense he’d established upon his arrival.
“Did they now?” she asked, keeping what she knew close to her. It was written all over her face that she knew Thomas but wasn’t going to admit it to a stranger looking for answers. He bet she had answers to his questions. Would she shed some light on them? No one in town was willing to tell him anything; would this woman be any different?
“I might ask you the same question,” Wally countered, standing next to his brother’s grave as if guarding it. “Did you know Thomas Baldwin?”
“My late husband, Paul, was one of the miners killed that day,” she said, not answering him, her face sad yet peaceful.
How odd, Wally thought of the contrasting emotions. To find peace in sorrow.
“Are you the investigator everyone has been chattering about?” she asked, squinting her eyes at him.
“Yes. I’m sorry for my bad manners.” Wally held out his hand toward her. “I’m Jack Daniels.”
“Hello, Mr. Daniels,” the woman said, releasing her grip on the bible long enough to shake his hand. “My name is Fannie Rochester.”
“Pleasure, Mrs. Rochester, and my condolences on the loss of your husband,” Wally said as her hand left his to return to its place around the bible. “Please call me Jack. I prefer it.”
“As you wish, Jack,” Fannie said, her eyes still taking measure of him. “Has anyone mentioned you resemble Thomas? I thought I was witnessing his spirit when I first saw you at his grave. It gave me such a start I prayed for protection as I came out to see if my eyes were deceiving me.”
Well, that explained her grip on the bible, Wally thought, taking a tentative step toward her. I never gave it much thought before, but is that why everyone seems so reluctant to talk to me about Thomas?
“I am sorry for having startled you. A few have said something similar to me over the years. I have one of those common faces, as everyone tells me I look like someone they know every once in a while,” Wally answered, hoping he’d ease Fannie Rochester’s fear. He needed to get as much information from her as possible. No need to scare the woman anymore then he’d already done.
“I’ll be closing the doors for the day, Jack,” Fannie informed, turning away from him. “If you wish to enter God’s house tonight and pray, the doors are always unlocked. There are candles at the entrance; please be sure none are still lit when you leave.
“Good night, Mr. Daniels,” Fannie called over her shoulder as she walked back through the cemetery then disappeared around the corner of the white clapboard church.
“Thank you,” Wally said, thinking he just might take her up on her offer. It had been some time since he’d been to church, and right now, he felt the need for some divine help in regard to his brother.
5
The early morning sun’s rays streaked through the window, signaling a new day on the horizon.
Vera stretched like a kitten waking in the warmth of its mother. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this well-rested. Then again, she didn’t normally take a nap in the middle of the day as she had late yesterday afternoon.
When she’d woken with her head cradled in her arms on the table, the setting sun’s shadow was creeping through the window. She hadn’t remembered putting her head down nor falling asleep.
It had been too late for her to venture out to the cemetery. One never knew what hid among the woods. Once dusk had begun to fall, darkness would quickly follow. It would have been too risky for her to be wandering alone among the dead, so she locked her door, made a quick meal, then climbed the steps to her bedroom.
Changing into her nightgown and crawling under the blankets had been the last things she remembered before falling back to sleep in the blink of an eye.
The reoccurring dreams of Thomas gave her heart hope that she’d be by his side again one day. They were always together, laughing and as full of love for each other as the first day they’d met. The dreams were always sweet and melancholy.
It was the knowledge of the life growing within her that gave her purpose to go on until it was her turn to take her place with God. The cycle of her life hadn’t magically changed after she had witnessed her Thomas’s casket being lowered into the cold, dark ground.
Her life waited for her just as it did every morning.
“My, you are impatient this morning,” Vera giggled as her child grew restless within her. “You are right. It is time for me to get up and eat.”
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet lighted on an old blue braided rug. Wiggling her toes into the thick braid, Vera stood, wrapping her robe around her. Padding over to the window, she looked out onto the new day. The night’s dew glistened off the grass like little gems.
Smiling, she closed her eyes. How she loved the sense of the fresh start each morning promised. She knew it was up to her to make her own happiness and seeing God’s promise first thing in the morning gave her hope of finding it again one day. It was up to her to find and welcome whatever joy she could for the sake of her unborn child, if for no one else.
Vera turned from the window and readied herself for the day at Nana’s. The lightweight cotton dress sliding over her would help to keep her cool at the height of the day’s heat she was sure to come. The pair of sensible boots waiting for her at the front door would be far more comfortable than the only other pair of shoes she’d been struggling to wear for the past several weeks.
Vera began to make breakfast at the insistence of her grumbling stomach after taking the steps one at a time.
“Patience, I’m getting breakfast ready,” she cooed, collecting a few eggs from the icebox and the can of lard from a pantry shelf. Scooping a bit of the lard into a cast iron pan, Vera cracked a couple of eggs over a bowl and began whisking them. An unexpected knock at her door made her jump and she took the pan off the burner.
Waddling over to the door, she pulled it open and gasped.
“Willa!” she exclaimed, every nerve in her body on high alert.
“Good morning, Vera,” Willa greeted, hoping her unannounced visit wouldn’t be unwanted. “May I come in?”
“Of course! Would you like a bit of breakfast? I was just starting to make some scrambled eggs,” Vera offered, moving aside for Willa to enter.
“Thank you, I already ate.” Willa took a seat at the table where Vera had set down a bowl, a pitcher of milk, and a cup. “We can talk while you eat.”
“Is something wrong?” Vera asked, picking up the bowl, worry etched across her face.
“No, everything is fine,” Willa answered, helping herself to a cup of milk. “I wanted to talk to you about something this morning before you went to Nana’s.”
“Oh,” Vera muttered, placing the pan back on the burner and pouring the eggs into it as the flame flickered back to life. “It must be important for you to come out of your way.”
“I would say more interesting than important—at least at the moment,” Willa said, watching Vera scramble eggs. “I wanted you to hear the gossip from me rather than anyone else in town.”
“Gossip, is that all?” Vera laughed, pushing the eggs on a plate and taking a seat across from Willa. “You know I don’t listen to gossip.”
“Yes, well, this gossip is a bit different I’m afraid,” Willa hedged, drinking from her cup.
Vera placed a forkful of eggs into her mouth and turned a sickly shade of green before running over to the sink.
“Are you still having morning sickness?” Willa asked with a bit of humor edging her question. She grinned behind her cup, watching Vera take several gulps of water to rinse her mouth out.
“I thought it would have passed by now.” Vera wiped her mouth, the color returning to her face as she slowly returned to the table. “I haven’t been feeling ill for a few days, so I thought—oh, I don’t know what I thought anymore. Seems like there are only certain things that set my stoma
ch tumbling.”
“You have been working yourself too hard, Vera. You need to slow down.” Willa reached over, patting Vera’s hand. “I know you are worried about taking care of yourself and the baby. You have friends here that will help you. You know that, don’t you?”
Vera looked over with tears in her eyes and nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want to be a burden on anyone.”
“Neither you nor your baby will ever be a burden.” Willa sat back in her chair, resisting the urge to wrap the young woman in her arms. If she and Charlie had had any children, Vera could have been theirs. But they hadn’t. Maybe that was why she felt the need, the drive, to look after the young widows.
“Are you feeling well enough to walk to work now?” Willa asked, pushing away from the table. “Or do you need more time?”
Vera smiled meekly, nodding her head. “Yes, I’m ready. Let me get my lunch.”
Willa stood at the door, watching the soon-to-be young mother put the dishes in the sink then go over to make sure the stove was out before picking up her sack lunch and bag.
As they walked out the door and onto the path leading to town, Willa wondered if it would be a good idea to talk to Vera about Jack Daniels. Would it be better if she just let things happen on its own time? How would Vera take it when she heard the gossip that was going around about Mr. Daniels’s inquiries about Thomas?
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Willa?” Vera asked as they passed the church.
Willa glanced over at Vera, noticing the church doors stood open. It would be better if she knew what to expect. The words floated in her mind like a feather on the summer breeze.
“It’s about Mr. Daniels,” Willa began, focusing on the path ahead. “Do you know why he is here?”
“I’m not sure. I thought I heard someone say Mr. Daniels was here doing an investigation for the family of one of the miners,” Vera said, then gasped. “It’s not Elizabeth’s late husband, is it? That would crush her now that she has found happiness with Auggie.”
“No, it’s not Elizabeth.” Willa stopped for a moment, taking Vera by the elbow. “But he has been to visit Elizabeth. Has he been to see you yet?”
“Mr. Daniels dropped off some laundry yesterday. And he did walk with me as far as the church on my way home,” Vera said as if it were nothing more than a courtesy. “He wanted to know how to get to the cemetery, and since I was headed that way, he walked along.”
“And he didn’t ask you anything?” Willa asked, wondering if Jack knew Vera was Thomas’s widow. If he did, he sure was doing a good job of hiding it. But that was his job, wasn’t it? Gather information from people.
“Just my name,” Vera said, clutching her bags. “I did tell him that I was a widow, told him my first name but not my last. I don’t need a stranger coming around sniffing at the door.”
“And here I was worried about you!” Willa laughed out loud. “Seems to me you have been learning how to stand on your own two feet.”
“I am far from that, Willa,” Vera all but whispered. “I will always worry about how I am going to care for the baby and provide a home for us both at the same time. Mollie has assured me that I will always have a place at Nana’s. That we can work something out.”
“That’s good. And you can take Mollie’s word on that.” Willa smiled, knowing no one in Blessings Valley would turn Vera and her baby away.
“One day, you may find someone to love again, Vera. You are young, too young to remain alone for the rest of your life.” Willa took Vera’s hands in hers. She wanted nothing more than to hug the young lady until all her fears subsided.
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have the baby,” Vera bravely replied.
“Yes, you will. But a child is not the same as having a man who will love and care for you.” Willa pushed back her own faded wishes as they continued on the path.
“If ever such a man should come along, I’ll be surprised since all the men in Blessings Valley are either too old or already have families,” Vera mused, shaking her head. “I am resolved to raising and loving the baby alone. That’s all the love I will ever need.”
Reaching the edge of town, Willa paused for a moment. “You know you can come to me for anything. No matter what it is. No matter what may happen, you will have a place under my roof.”
“Thank you, Willa.” Tears glistened in Vera’s thankful gaze. “Now, I really must go to work before Mollie thinks the worst. I would hate to have a search party come after me just because I’ve taken a bit more time this morning.”
“All right, but make sure you take enough breaks today,” Willa said, hugging Vera tightly. “I shall see you again soon, I suspect.”
Vera nodded then walked behind the buildings toward Nana’s Laundry.
Lord, please look after this child. And bring her and Mr. Daniels together, Willa prayed silently as Vera disappeared on the worn path behind the buildings.
“I wondered why Willa left so quickly after breakfast; now I know,” Wally muttered, watching Willa and Vera from the window of his room in the boardinghouse. “The remaining question is, what was so important that it couldn’t wait until later in the day?” Turning away after Vera slipped behind the buildings, he glanced over a few of his notes. Almost all his questions were left unanswered so far. No one wanted to talk about his brother. He surmised after speaking to Elizabeth Hamilton that there was someone in town who knew Thomas better than anyone else, but who? That was a detail Mrs. Hamilton purposely left out.
Grabbing his hat, Wally gathered his notes then sprinted down the stairs and into the front parlor. He wanted to be there before Willa walked in the door. With only a few moments to spare, he flipped open the file, pretending to be submerged in reading the pages.
The clap, clap, clap of shoes on the porch was followed by the door opening then closing. Willa strolled into the parlor then stopped dead in her tracks. The surprised look on her face quickly becoming somber.
“Oh! You caught me off guard, Jack,” she said, hanging her shawl on the hat rack. “I thought you’d be out working on your case by now. Interrogating the good citizens of Blessings Valley, if you will.”
He looked up, a smile on his face. He wasn’t sure if Willa was joking or serious. “I wanted to go through my notes first. See who I have talked to. What businesses I have visited. So far, I’m coming up empty-handed as for any information that is tangible, other than the obvious, of course.
“Although I did have a rather odd conversation with a woman named Fannie,” he said, waiting to see if Willa would take the bait. Any way to get someone talking could be fortuitous to his efforts.
“Oh?” Willa stepped farther into the room, taking a seat near the fireplace where she could face him. She folded her hands on her lap.
“Yes. I had wanted to go out to the cemetery but wasn’t sure where it was located.” He began closing the file on his lap. “I happened to come upon the young laundress, Vera, and she showed me where it was.”
“Now, that is interesting.” Willa raised her eyebrows. “Did she go into the cemetery with you?”
“No. Once we reached the church, she kept going on her way home,” Wally answered, telling her the truth. “When I went around to the back and finally found the grave for Thomas Baldwin, a woman appeared with a bible in her hands and asked if I knew Thomas Baldwin. When I told her who I was, she introduced herself as Fannie Rochester. She said she is a widow of one of the miners who was killed in the accident.”
He totally omitted the fact that Mrs. Rochester thought he resembled Thomas. It wasn’t the first time someone had said it, and Wally was sure it was far from the last.
“Yes, Fannie takes care of the church, and I believe she finds solace there as well. Her late husband, Paul, was one of the miners.” Willa smiled slyly. “I am sure she didn’t offer you any information on Thomas either, did she?”
“No.” Wally chuckled. “Finding information for the Baldwin family is proving to be a troublesome task. I can u
sually close a case like this rather quickly. Blessings Valley is proving to be a bit more difficult than I first anticipated it would be.”
“Dinner will be served at six tonight,” Willa said, rising from the chair. “You might want to think about having lunch at Millie’s Café today. You never know what kind of gossip can be overheard.
“We protect our own, Jack. I’m sure those who knew Thomas well have taken notice as to how much you remind them of him. A younger version, of course, but close enough that they may think you are Thomas reincarnated.” Walking into the dining room, Willa paused then turned around. “A word of advice. Let things happen naturally if you can. I know for an investigator with a job to do it can be hard. But I have a feeling you’ll get your answers soon enough.”
Has my cover been exposed because I resemble my brother? Wally wondered, pushing his hat on his head.
6
“Did you sleep well, Vera?”
Vera stepped into the front of the laundry, where Mollie was going through a stack of client tickets. “I did, thank you. Evidently, I was more tired than I thought.”
“Oh?” Mollie asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Yes,” Vera chuckled. “I fell asleep with my head on the table. When I woke up, it was past dinner.”
Mollie laughed out loud, causing Vera to follow suit. It was nice to feel some of the tension leave her body and mind.
“See, I knew you needed the rest,” Mollie said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Starting tomorrow, I want you to come in an hour later. I also want you to work only a half day, at the very most.”
“But, Mollie!” Vera gasped, her stomach sinking with dread. “I need to work a full day in order to—”
Taking Vera’s elbow, Mollie guided her into the back room where the work for the day waited. “I have a plan. A plan that I think will work out for you.”
Fighting the tears threatening to fall, Vera trembled as she sat on a stool near the ironing. “What do you mean?”
Vera (Widows of Blessings Valley Book 2) Page 4
