Nathalie (Sweet Land of Liberty Brides 2)

by Lorena Dove

  “Nathalie, dear, may I come in?” She heard a soft knock on the door as Mrs. Maduro stood outside of her room.

  “I’m fine, Moth—Mrs. Maduro! Please go away!”

  “I’d like to talk to you. Please open the door.”

  Nathalie knew that Mrs. Maduro had never lied to her or taken advantage of her. She opened the door but turned her back and went straight to her bed. She couldn’t let Mrs. Maduro find out she’d been crying.

  “Nathalie, I’m worried about you. Won’t you talk to your dear Mother?”

  “Oh, I can’t!” Nathalie cried out and at the sound of her anguish, Mrs. Maduro rushed to her side. She reached for the girl, and pulled her close as she sat beside her on the bed.

  “There, there. Everything will be all right.” Mrs. Maduro soothed.

  Nathalie had started to cry, and at the soft words and gentle embrace of her adopted mother, she tried to speak but was overcome with sobs. Her tears flowed onto Mrs. Maduro’s shoulder as the older woman patted her back and gently rocked. She said nothing at first, and Nathalie cried all the harder.

  “I’m—I’m sorry! I don’t know what to do!” Nathalie sobbed. “Look at me, I’m ruining your dress. There’s no use in crying. I’m afraid I’ll have to be leaving you, though!” With that, Nathalie broke down again and couldn’t speak.

  “Shhh. Shhh. It’s good to cry, Nathalie. You’ve been strong for all of us for a long time. My husband’s mother used to say, like soap for the body, so are tears for the soul.”

  Nathalie soaked her handkerchief trying to stem the tears, and when it became too wet, Mrs. Maduro handed her another.

  Nathalie finally calmed down enough to speak. “Everything’s gone wrong, Mother. I don’t even think after today I can call you that anymore. Peter will be sent back with Mr. McGraw. I’ve lost the only thing I own from my mother, her pearl necklace. And I overheard Isadore telling you that Mr. Gadsen is coming to foreclose on the store. He was my grandfather’s valet, and to think now he is working for Mr. Jacobson!”

  “Now dear, it does seem awful bad. What does Isadore say?”

  “I don’t want to be rude, but Isadore is no help! He won’t release Peter, and he took Allison’s side when I think she stole my necklace! And he doesn’t want the store anyway. He told me he loved me, but how can I love him when he cares nothing for everything important to me!”

  “I’m not sure you’re right about Issa, dear. He cares more than any man I’ve seen about doing right by his friends and family. I’m sure if he could have helped Peter, he would have. And you can’t know what may have driven Mr. Gadsen to find employment with Mr. Jacobson. It may not be as bad as you think.”

  Nathalie stood and went to the wash basin. She slowly poured water in the bowl and splashed some on her face. “I’m not sure I want to find out,” she said.

  “That doesn’t sound like the smart, courageous girl I know. Don’t give up now, Nathalie. Peter needs your support. You can confront Gadsen face-to-face and find out the truth. I am very sorry about the necklace, though. And whatever happens with Issa, you’ll always be like a daughter to me.”

  Nathalie couldn’t help smiling in gratefulness at Mrs. Maduro. “I suppose I can’t just stay here in my room. Here, let me help you back downstairs and I’ll go find out what’s to become of us.”

  Chapter 9 | Justice Served

  Peter sat in a chair across from Judge Sinclair. Nathalie had never thought he looked small, but compared to the judge’s commanding presence, Peter looked every bit the lost runaway orphan.

  She sought his eyes, but he quickly lowered them in shame. It was bad enough he’d gotten himself into this trouble. The embarrassment of having Nathalie there to see him get turned over to and hauled off by Mr. McGraw made him feel even worse.

  “Let’s see, now,” Judge Sinclair said, looking through the papers on the table. “Miss Nathalie Luxe, are you the party in this counter-claim to adopt Peter Duncan?”

  “I am, sir,” Nathalie said.

  “Well, I’ll be honest, I’m not about to overturn duly executed adoption papers. But in light of your counter-claim, I’ll hear the facts as soon as Mr. McGraw gets here. And he’s late.”

  Nathalie looked up in hope at the sound of the judge’s voice. Was he considering awarding her the case? What if McGraw never returned; then he would have to!

  A loud commotion at the door sent her faint hopes crashing. “Right this way, Mr. McGraw,” Isadore was saying.

  “I know the way, git yer hands off me!” said McGraw.

  He burst into the room set up for the hearing. “I know my rights, Judge! It’s time for me to get my boy and return to my farm!”

  Judge Sinclair kept his eyes on the papers laid out before him. “Is this your client, Mr. Maduro?”

  “No sir, Judge Sinclair. But as an office of the court, I’d like to recommend that he be disarmed before you begin the proceedings.”

  “Quite right. Mr McGraw, see the sheriff, please.” Speaking without looking up, Judge Sinclair’s voice was one not to trifle with.

  “Lay it out on the table, McGraw,” Sheriff Taslo said.

  McGraw grumbled as he took off his holster and laid the belt and pistol on the table. “Darn waste of time, if you ask me,” he said. “There, can we get started now?”

  “Not so fast,” Isadore said icily. “Empty your pockets.”

  Nathalie drew in a quick breath at the steely sound of his voice. She had never heard Isadore speak in that tone to anyone.

  “Waddya mean, you’ve got my gun now, let’s get on with it!” McGraw complained.

  Isadore was next to him in an instant. “Out with it.”

  Judge Sinclair’s eyes bore down from over the top of his reading glasses on Mr. McGraw. He reached into his right front pocket and pulled out a handful of coins and a crumpled paper and slammed them down on the table. Isadore made a low sound, almost like a growl.

  The man looked around, then reached into his left front pocket. From the depths of his trousers, he pulled out a purple velvet pouch and laid it on the table.

  “My pearls!” Nathalie exclaimed.

  “Them’s mine,” McGraw said, looking at the judge. “I bought ‘em for my wife when I was in Sioux Falls. Birthday present.”

  “I lost them this morning at my store, your Honor!” Nathalie said. “They’re all I have from my mother. I’d know that bag anywhere.”

  “Bring it here, sheriff,” Judge Sinclair said. He opened the bag and looked inside. “Do you have a receipt, Mr. McGraw?”

  “No, but they’re rightly mine. This slip of a girl is just trying to frame me, ‘cause she knows she can’t win her counter claim.”

  “Miss Luxe,” the judge said. “Can you prove the pearls are yours? Can anyone verify that you wear them? Who else has seen you with them?”

  Nathalie’s mind raced, but she knew it was no use. She had kept the pearl necklace hidden away and never worn it. How foolish, for something so precious, to be locked away. But what was done was done. She couldn’t prove they were hers.

  “I have,” said Isadore.

  Her eyes flew to his with a thousand questions, but he kept his gaze steady on the judge.

  “I can describe them to you, if you’d like.”

  “Yes, let’s see now, I suppose that would do, Mr. Maduro.” The judge poured the necklace out into his hand behind the table. “Go ahead.”

  “Well, it’s a strand of pearls. A full set. And there’s a clasp.”

  “Heck, that’s any necklace!” McGraw cut in.

  Judge Sinclair glared at him. “Anything else, Isadore?”

  Isadore closed his eyes in thought for a moment, then spoke. “The clasp is golden, and it has a chain with one perfect pearl hanging from it. I can see it now, hanging down the back of Nathalie’s neck.”

  Nathalie’s mouth dropped open. How could he know? Had he seen? Had he been peering in her bedroom?

  Sheriff Taslo let out a low whistle. Judge Sin
clair slowly shook his head and put the necklace back in the pouch. He held it up in the air above the table.

  “Miss Luxe—your pearls.”

  She went forward and took the beloved bag in her hands. Returning to her seat, she looked in wonder at Isadore with a warmth she had never known.

  “Hmm, well, er—let’s get on with the hearing then,” McGraw said.

  “Yes, we shall,” said Judge Sinclair. “Mr. McGraw, in the counter-claim to adoption by Miss Luxe, I find the law on your side, despite your low morals in the treatment of this lad, which Miss Luxe has described quite well. I’ve interviewed the boy, and I believe him. However, that wouldn’t have been enough for me to strip you of your legal right to him.”

  McGraw let out a laugh. “Ha ha—just like I was sayin’; I told everybody, I have my rights!”

  “As do we all, Mr. McGraw; as do we all. In light of your thievery, I’m ordering the Sheriff to put you under arrest. You’ll have time to file a defense, but by then, I’ll be in the next county and won’t be back this way for a good month. Therefore, as a result of your impending incarceration, I order Peter Duncan to be released to the care of Miss Nathalie Luxe.”

  To say that Mr. McGraw went quietly to his jail cell would be disservice to the power of his lungs. The whole town could hear that Mr. Ezekial McGraw had his rights.

  Nathalie and Peter embraced in the small hearing room. “I never doubted you, Miss Nathalie,” Peter said. “You said you would help me, and you did.”

  “I’m so happy, Peter! Now we can go back to our work at the store, and I’ll make you a proper room to live in. No more hiding.”

  Isadore stood at the table quietly talking to Judge Sinclair. Peter approached and stuck out his hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. Maduro. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

  “No trouble at all, Pete!” Isadore said. “Couldn’t be happier to play a part in seeing a man like McGraw spend a little time behind bars.”

  Nathalie was full of questions, but her mind was still in a state of confusion. She started to speak, but Isadore shook his head.

  “Let’s not talk here, Nathalie,” he said.

  He put out his elbow, and she hesitated. Smiling up at him, she put her hand on his arm as they left the sheriff’s office.

  Peter nearly ran up the street, slowed down only by the townspeople stopping to shake his hand. Walking to the store, Nathalie couldn’t wait any longer to ask.

  “Isadore, how did you know about the pearls?”

  “You said they were your mother’s, from Germany, then?”

  “Yes, she never came to America. She died when I was only two.”

  “My father’s family lived on the Rhine before they picked up for the West Indies,” Isadore said. “He gave my mother a pearl necklace for a wedding present. She hasn’t worn it since he died. I took a chance yours was similar.”

  Isadore stopped and turned Nathalie to face him. “There’s something else I want to say. Nathalie, I can think of nothing and no one else until I have your answer. Will you marry me?”

  Nathalie could see the store over his shoulder. A proper gentleman was standing out front, looking this way and that.

  “Isadore, before I answer, can I ask about the store? I know about Silas Jacobson and the note. I know he’s sending a man here to foreclose. I’m not sure I can trust you, having brought me here under false pretenses to waste my money and keep the store going for only a little while longer.”

  “False pretenses? Nathalie, don’t you know?”

  “Nathalie! Fraulein Nathalie!” Gadsen had seen the two of them and was briskly walking towards them.

  Nathalie took in a deep breath. She was prepared for anything now, but assumed only the worst about her meeting with Gadsen.

  “Hello, Gadsen,” she said in an even tone. “Let’s not make a scene on the street. Shall we go back to the store?”

  “Fraulein, I’m so glad and relieved to see you! Yes, let’s go back, we have much to discuss.”

  I’m sure we do, Nathalie thought.

  Chapter 10 | Comfort and Joy

  Inside the privacy of the store, Nathalie embraced Gadsen. She truly had missed him, and the older gentleman looked at her with such fondness, she could almost forget that he was here as an agent of Silas Jacobson.

  “Isadore, this is Delphinius Gadsen. Mr. Gadsen, may I present Isadore Maduro,” Nathalie said.

  The two men shook hands warmly. “Awful glad to meet you! I understand you have news for me from Mr. Jacobson?”

  “Yes, well, you must have received a letter. And I have one with me as well.” Gadsen said nervously.

  Nathalie could hardly force herself to listen. So it was true. Gadsen was working for Silas Jacobson. The only question left to answer was, for how long?

  “Do you mind, gentlemen?” Nathalie interrupted. “Gadsen, I’ve known you nearly my whole life. Has it really come to this: are you here to take possession of the store? How long have you been working for Silas?”

  “Fraulein Nathalie, please, let me explain.” Poor Gadsen looked as if he would faint under the pressure.

  “Come to the house, won’t you, Mr. Gadsen? You look in need of a rest,” said Isadore.

  “Yes, Gadsen, I’m sorry. Please let’s talk over some supper.”

  ***

  Nathalie poured coffee for Mrs. Maduro, Mr. Gadsen, and Isadore as they sat at the kitchen table in the Maduro’s cottage.

  “Won’t you sit down, dear?” Mrs. Maduro asked.

  “No, thank you. I prefer to stand right now,” Nathalie said.

  Mr. Gadsen took a sip of coffee and replaced the cup in the saucer. “It’s been very hard since you left, Fraulein. I stayed on at the house to supervise the sale of your grandfather’s things. Mr. Jacobson paid me to stay on until the house was sold.”

  Of course, that makes sense, thought Nathalie.

  “On my last day, I went to see Mr. Jacobson to receive my final pay from your grandfather’s estate. Sitting in the antechamber of his office, I heard him discussing you and Mr. Maduro with his associate. He had received a telegraph from Mr. Maduro telling him when to expect the next payment on his note. Mr. Jacobson was furious! He boxed that poor fellow on the ears, and told him to get out! The man nearly knocked me down rushing out of the place.

  “I entered his office in time to see Mr. Jacobson throw the telegraph into the fireplace. I was ready to take my pay and my leave, and with good riddance to him,” Gadsen paused for another sip of coffee. The bitter look on his face told Nathalie his true feelings at being associated with Mr. Jacobson.

  “It was then it came to me. He was angry because he was planning to foreclose on you; he didn’t want Mr. Maduro’s payment, and no record of the notice of it. I decided to insert myself by offering my services. I told him I’d come to personally oversee the closing of the store.

  “He wasn’t interested at first, told me I was too close to you. But I convinced him it would work even better. So, he paid my way, and now here I am. I’m awfully sorry to have to do it, but at least Old Gadsen will see that you safely return to New York with me.”

  “Thank you, Gadsen. I understand now. I have money for my fare at least, and I can be ready to return with you any time.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry it’s turned out like this.”

  Isadore and Mrs. Maduro had sat in silence. Finally, Isadore could stand it no longer.

  “Do I have a say at all in this plan?” he asked, then burst into laughter.

  “Isadore, what can you find amusing at a time like this?” Mrs. Maduro scolded. “I’m listening here to the loss of your father’s dream, and worse still, the plans for leaving of my dear Nathalie!”

  “Mother—Nathalie—my dear Mr. Gadsen! I know it seems I may not pay as much attention to matters of business as I should, but on my long trip away I was immersed in matters of the law. I saw people cheat and be cheated all up and down this part of the country. It came to
me after I sent Jacobson the telegraph that I ought to put a little insurance on my payment. Old Silas Jacobson must have been notified after you left, Gadsen! I’d have loved to see his face!”

  “Notified of what, Isadore?” Nathalie asked.

  “I decided he couldn’t be trusted to record my payment in time. When I drew my judgeship pay, I wired it to my Uncle in New York, instructing him to take it to the bank personally for me. As an attorney, he was able to get the papers finalized. I had enough to make the note payment and finish paying off the store. In the mail I found on my return, the copy of the released note. We own the store free and clear, Nathalie!”

  “That’s showing him, all right!” Gadsen said.

  “Isadore! What happy news! I’m so glad you prevailed upon your uncle!”

  “Thank you, Gadsen! And Mother, I do listen to you, even if I can’t always admit it directly at the time.”

  Nathalie could not speak. She pulled out a chair and sat down staring blankly at the coffee cup in her hands. The others looked at her, and at each other.

  “Nathalie?” Isadore gently spoke.

  She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. At the sight of his worried face, she smiled, and then began to chuckle. Soon she was laughing until the tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Isadore jumped to one knee at her side. He took her hands in his and kissed them. Laughing himself, he looked straight at her. “Nathalie Luxe, won’t you please be my wife?”

  “Yes, Isadore,” she said, wiping the tears from her face. She leaned forward and put her forehead against his. “Yes, I will.”

  ***

  Mrs. Maduro couldn’t sleep the night before the wedding. Nathalie and Isadore would be married in the church, with a rabbi coming in from Sioux Falls to bless them after the ceremony.