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Savannah's Promise (The Promise Series Book 2)

Page 2

by Lynn Landes


  “Coming!” Savannah snaps and grabs her small bag, tucking the letter inside.

  Sundays with her family is always a treat. After the years of being away from home, Savannah doesn’t take a minute for granted. Her brother, Glenn and his wife Anika have been married for three months. It’s a perfect time for her to make the trip. March has brought a break in the weather. Travel is much more comfortable in the Spring. Plus, it will give the newlyweds some much needed alone time and allow her to fulfill her promise. They do not need to know about the package she sent to the publishing house in Washington last week. Guilt has her chewing her lip. For the past two years, she has been selling some of her tintypes to make money. Surprisingly, they were snapped up quickly. It would seem there was an overseas market for images from the war.

  Sitting in church surrounded by her family, Savannah listens to the sermon and her mind drifts. Will Oliver’s family blame her? Before he died Oliver insisted that she take his bags of tintypes to his family. What will become of his cherished images? With her brother Glenn’s help, she was able to finish developing the final images from Oliver’s collection. Her family doesn’t know that she sent examples of her own photos along with a separate packet for Oliver to a publishing house in Washington and is waiting to hear from them.

  “Rise,” the Pastor says, snapping her out of her thoughts. Guilt stains her cheeks, and she quickly joins in on the hymn.

  After church, Savannah waves to her friend and turns to her mother. “Don’t hold lunch for me. I’m going to town with Deidra’s family.” She quickly presses a kiss to her startled cheek and walks swiftly to join her friend.

  “Thank you for the lift to town, Deidra. Do you think Frank will mind?”

  “Of course, not.” Deidra slips an arm through her friends and guides her to the wagon. “Though I am curious to know what you’re up to.” She says softly after they settle in the back of the wagon.

  “Up to? Whatever do you mean?” Savannah struggles to hide the blush of guilt that stains her cheeks as Frank finishes his goodbyes and collects their sons.

  “You know you can’t hide the truth,” Deidra teases. “Your eyes always give you away, and your fair complexion.”

  Savannah laughs and fans herself. “It’s true. I used to curse my crazy red-hair but not so much. It reminds me of my grandmother Hannah.”

  “You are as lovely as always, though your eyes have changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s difficult to explain,” Deidra says softly. “Frank says he finds it hard to look into your eyes. They have a haunted quality about them.”

  Savannah grows quiet and looks at her friend. “He isn’t far from the truth,” she murmurs and smiles when the children reach the wagon before Frank.

  The ride to town is boisterous and full of laughter as the boys tell her about all of all their escapades. Once they arrive in town, Frank pulls the wagon to a stop in front of the general store which doubles as a post office and turns to Savannah.

  “We’ll wait for you.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, Frank. I don’t want to keep you.” She climbs down and stops at his next sentence.

  “I promised Glenn I’d stick with you. I’ll not be breaking my word today. Take your time.”

  “Not too long, Miss Savannah, I’m hungry.” Three-year-old Steven says.

  Savannah laughs with his parents and climbs down, “I’ll be right back.”

  The Post office is run by Willis Grange who happens to also be the owner of the general store. Savannah hurries inside and walks to the back of the store to post her letter. Willis opens the post office for half a day on Sundays, after services. She gets in line behind a few other patrons and waits for Willis to open.

  “Hurry up, Willis. I’ve got luncheon waiting on me,” one man calls.

  “Hold your horses,” Willis grumbles as he makes his way to the back room to grab his keys. His daughters take over the general store.

  Savannah is happy to find that she is third in line. “Picking up or posting?” Mr. Grange asks when it’s her turn.

  “Hello Mr. Grange, I’d like to post this letter and pick up any mail.” She slides the letter to him and pays the two cents. He takes the letter and checks her box.

  “No mail today, Miss Ward,” he calls for the next person in line.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs and walks away.

  “Savannah?” A female voice calls. She glances over and waves with a smile.

  “Henrietta, it’s lovely to see you.”

  “You too? How long are you in town for?” Henrietta draws her out of the path of customers and links her arm through her, guiding her to the front of the store.

  “Just for luncheon with friends. How’s your Mother?”

  “She’s well, in fact, that’s why I’m here. Mother wants to travel home to Indiana next month to see her family, but she’ll need a companion.” Henrietta waves a letter and marches over to a wall where advertisements are pinned.

  “You can’t travel with her?” Savannah walks over to read the ad while Henrietta explains.

  “No, I’m to be married at the end of the month.” She blushes and glances at Savannah. “I’ve posted advertisements in the paper, and I’m posting a few others in local towns.”

  “Congratulations!” she says with a smile and hugs her friend as an idea forms. “I hope you don’t think it terribly forward of me Henrietta, but I’m available.”

  Henrietta’s eyes fly open in surprise. “That’s wonderful! Savannah, I can’t tell you how much I worry about leaving Mother. She’s had two bad falls and to know she would be with someone who has your nursing skills,” tears form, “that would be a blessing. You’d have to get past Mother’s interview first.”

  “Tell me when to come.” They chat about the details and hug. Savannah unpins the ad and slips it inside her bag after Henrietta leaves.

  Indiana is close to Iowa. Henrietta’s ad says all expenses are paid and who would be a better companion than a nurse? Savannah is smiling as she hurries back to meet her friends. Surely God’s hand is in this.

  Chapter 3

  Eli kicks off his boots on the front porch of the main farmhouse and removes his well-worn cowboy hat before entering. He smiles a tired smile and wonders what’s for dinner as he opens the door. The first thing he observes is silence. He sniffs and frowns; usually, the scents would strike hard, sometimes even before opening the door.

  “Mother?” he calls and hurries to the kitchen. Empty. His Mother is usually helping the cook prepare dinner. The quiet house is unnerving him. Walking past the den to head up the stairs he skids to a stop. His mother is sitting in a quiet room, next to the fireplace, staring at the dancing flames. He walks forward and looks his mother over, from the top of her beautiful white curls down to her hands holding a letter.

  “Mother, are you well?”

  Red-rimmed brown eyes meet his. She sniffs, holding back a new wave of tears. “This letter came today.” Trembling hands held out a tear-stained letter.

  Eli sits down next to her ignoring the fact that he’s dirty from a hard day’s work on the ranch. He reads the letter while his Mother takes his hand, squeezing it gently.

  “What could she possibly have to give us?” His Mother asks and before he can answer she jumps to her feet and begins pacing. “I can’t do this, Eli!” Her skirt swishes as she continues her frantic pacing. “Do you think she wants money? Why now? Did Oliver make promises to her?” Her voice is shrill and grows louder with each question.

  Eli stands and swiftly moves to reassure her. “Let’s go over this. S. Ward? I thought S. Ward was another soldier. This Savannah Ward was the one who paid for Oliver’s body to be returned to us.” Both of them fall silent as they think about what this means. “Mom, if she hadn’t taken care of him, we wouldn’t even know where Oliver was buried.” He holds his tongue and doesn’t say that Oliver would be buried in a field somewhere in a mass grave. As a former artillery sol
dier during the Civil War, he’d seen it all.

  “A nurse?” She sniffs and wipes her eyes with a tissue. “It’s good to know he wasn’t alone.” Felicia sits heavily in the chair once more and tries to stem the flow of tears. “We owe it to her to say thank you. Because of her generosity, Oliver is home and resting in our family grave with your Father.”

  Eli runs a hand through his short, wavy black hair. “I think we should at least see what Oliver left with her and say thank you. I can write to her.”

  “No. I’ll do it. You have enough to worry about. What do you know about the nurses?”

  “They were volunteers from the churches, widowers or women who followed their husbands. It was a requirement that they are unattractive, for a good reason. The things they would have seen would shock and horrify any normal person, but they stood and helped. In fact, the men usually called them Angels, because the conditions were deplorable.

  “When I think of Oliver, dying alone,” she sniffs, “in a muddy field.” She covers her face and struggles to compose herself.

  Eli reaches out and takes her hand. “To know that he wasn’t alone, is a gift, Mother.”

  “Quite right,” she pats her son, “I’m feeling better, now. Will you pray with me?” she asks.

  “Not now, I’m famished,” he stands to go clean up.

  “Of course, I’m sorry that dinner isn’t ready. It was such a shock that I sent everyone away.”

  Eli throws an arm around her tiny shoulders and squeezes gently. “There’s always hotcakes.”

  “I can do that,” she laughs, “but first, go get cleaned up. You stink.”

  “You always told Dad he smelled like sunshine.”

  “He always smelled like heaven to me, but he still stunk.” Giving him a gentle shove, she hurries to the kitchen, enjoying his laughter.

  Eli watches her go, and his smile fades. He doesn’t pray anymore. It only upsets his Mother to hear the words. His hope of a forever love like his parents had, was destroyed. Pain flashes in his dark eyes when he remembers his fiancé, Kristin. Chocolate eyes, dark hair and ruby lips, it has been weeks since he thought of her. Resentment fills his heart. He knows first-hand what the lengths a woman would go to in order to achieve her goals.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to Oliver, but our Mother has been through enough. This Savannah Ward better have good intentions, or she’ll be sorry she ever came to Iowa.”

  Chapter 4

  Savannah stares up at the beautiful house before her. A four-story white brick beauty with black gothic rod iron touches and a massive black iron gate. The Kruger family is one of the richest in Pennsylvania. Mrs. Kruger has grown weak after a bout of sickness a few years before the war. From the news Henrietta shared with her she struggled after her beloved husband of thirty years passed away last year. This trip will allow Mrs. Kruger to visit her family in Indiana.

  The door flies open, startling Savannah, and she stiffens her spine and runs a hand down her simple brown dress as a young woman stomps down the steps. Savannah helps open the massive gate and steps back to allow the other woman to pass.

  “I hope you’re prepared for that woman. She’s a beast!” Judging by the flushed skin and barely contained rage, it didn’t go well.

  Before Savannah can speak the woman stomps down the street. Smothering a smile, Savannah marches through the gate sending a silent prayer. ‘Lord give me faith like Daniel, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.’

  The housekeeper shows her to the sitting room, where she is surprised to find three other candidates waiting.

  “Have a seat, it shouldn’t be long,” the housekeeper says with a smirk and walks away.

  “Let’s get on with it. Time is wasting, and you aren’t getting any younger, Henrietta!” A sharp voice snarls from the other room.

  Savannah glances at the worried expression on the other women. She knows that not many women have the experience of nursing cranky patients. It will be an asset when dealing with an elderly woman.

  “Mother, you promised to be on your best behavior!” Henrietta’s exasperated voice says.

  “Yes, well, that was before you paraded these creatures in front of me! What did you expect!”

  Savannah isn’t surprised when one woman grabs her bag and marches from the house.

  “Miss Telfer, Mother will see you next.”

  Henrietta smiles when she sees Savannah and guides the young woman into the room. Savannah notices she’s dressed in her Sunday best and her hair is perfectly coifed. Unlike her own long, messy, braid. Perhaps she should have taken more care with her appearance?

  Henrietta is desperate to find a suitable traveling companion who will tolerate her Mother’s demanding ways. Widowed two years now, Henrietta is re-marrying in a few weeks and the pay offered reflects the desperation. It will help get her to Iowa without her family having to worry.

  When a teary-eyed woman rushes from the room, Savannah is startled. “No amount of money is worth this,” she shouts as she leaves.

  Henrietta glances at the next woman, “Ms. Ryder, follow me please.”

  Ms. Ryder is the best dressed of the lot. Beautiful, blond, curls, perfectly placed. A thin waist, tall elegant and lovely, she is a vision of perfection until she speaks. Her voice is quite nasally, as if she has a blockage or permanent cold.

  “Lord have Mercy,” the older woman’s voice shouts. “I couldn’t stand to listen to that for days on end. Next!”

  “Mother!” Henrietta hisses when Ms. Ryder leaps to her feet in outrage.

  “How dare you!” Ms. Ryder shouts and stomps from the room slamming the door behind her.

  Savannah glances at the room and frowns when Henrietta steps out and pats her hair with a trembling hand.

  “Savannah, are you sure about this?”

  Walking close to her friend, she squeezes her hand gently, “It will be alright. Why don’t you go get some tea?”

  “Oh, Savannah, I don’t dare leave you alone with her!” she whispers.

  “Well, is she coming in or not?” Her mother demands from behind them.

  “Go on,” Savannah orders.

  “If you’re sure,” Henrietta watches her walk into the room and hurries away to order tea service for three.

  Savanna steps inside the large room and waits for her eyes to adjust to the change in light. Mrs. Kruger is not what Savannah was expecting. She’s tiny, like a living doll with silver tinged black curls and piercing brown eyes. Sitting in a burgundy velvet wingback chair next to a stunning ornate stone fireplace, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  “Miss Savannah Ward at your service,” Savannah drops into a curtsy before rising and staring straight into her eyes.

  “Good Lord, no wonder you aren’t married. Look at that hair!”

  Savannah laughs out loud. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that. I’m afraid I can’t change it, though, my brother did help me try once.”

  “He did?” Curiosity overrules her need to push people away. Savannah moves closer and smiles.

  “Yes, we used saddle oil to try and dye it brown.”

  “Oh, no!” As the image takes shape in her mind, Mrs. Kruger smiles, “What happened?”

  “It turned green!”

  “Surely, not?” she gasps.

  “I assure you, and not a pretty emerald green or a lovely sage like your dress, but the green one would find on a dirty toad.” Savannah smooths a hand over her copper braid.

  Mrs. Kruger’s eyes grow huge as she pictures the horror. “How did you get it out?”

  “Mother had to cut it shorter than my brother’s hair, but that isn’t the worst part.”

  “Sit down and tell me what could be worse?” she orders. Henrietta returns and is startled to find them in civilized conversation. Hope flares, and she quickly sets up the tea.

  “You must understand that as it grew back, Mother had to shear it every few weeks to get all the colors out. The strangest part is that when m
y hair grew back, it was no longer straight, but curly,” she sighs and gestures at her head. “I simply don’t know how to tame it.”

  Mrs. Kruger throws back her head and laughs out loud, startling Henrietta so much that she almost drops the teapot.

  Henrietta pours the tea and mouths a silent thank you to her friend.

  “You’ll do nicely, Miss Ward. Tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m a trained nurse, and photographer. I traveled with the Sisters of Mercy for two years during the war. I spent the last year working with the church notifying the families on the whereabouts of their loved ones,” her smile fades, “the ones we’ve kept records of.”

  “You’ve led an interesting life so far. I think we shall enjoy our travels together.”

  “I think so too.”

  An hour later, Henrietta sees her to the door and struggles to hide her tears. “Savannah, I can’t tell you what it means to me to know Mother will be under your care.”

  “I promise to take good care of her. You’ll be free to enjoy your time with your new husband.” Savannah smiles when her friend blushes.

  “I can’t wait!” Henrietta holds out the contract. “Mother has added a few addendums to the contract. She requires a stay in Ohio for two nights, to do her shopping for the grandchildren before you carry on to Indiana. You will be paid for travel time, nursing care, and companion. Your train ticket is, of course, part of the pay. Is that a problem for you?”

  “No, of course not.” Savannah thinks about how much the money will help with her goal. “It is more than generous of you. How soon does your Mother wish to leave?”

  “Two weeks. Can you make that work?”

  “Yes. I’d like to spend some time over the next two weeks getting to know your Mother’s schedule and requirements.”

  Henrietta thinks for a moment, “Would it be possible for you to stay here the week before you depart? I’d pay you for the extra time. We are to leave for our honeymoon straight after our wedding.”

  “That’s understandable and will give us time to get to know each other.” Savannah leaves with a smile and a promise to return on Sunday after church. Time to go home and plan her trip.

 

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