“Who did thee expect would come?”
“Rose or perhaps my brother.”
“Thee has a brother?”
“Yes. He lives in Randolph County. Didn’t Rose tell you?”
There was so much about her husband she didn’t know, but before she could ask any questions, Matthew joined them. “Good news. There’s a large suite on the second floor that’s come available.” Matthew held up a key. “Shall we go?”
Leah bent to help Caleb.
“I don’t need any help,” he said, pushing her arms away.
But it was clear he did need help. He moved to the couch’s edge and tried to lever himself up with his arms, but he was too weak to do such a mundane task. Caleb’s gaze met Leah’s.
He didn’t want her help. He didn’t want her at all.
She walked away from the couch and turned her back. She could hear Caleb’s labored breathing and the grunts of effort that standing and walking cost both Caleb and Matthew.
After several long minutes, Caleb was at her side. “Why don’t you go into the dining room and arrange a lunch to be delivered to our suite?”
“They do that?” She immediately regretted her words. Caleb would probably find her ignorance of such things laughable.
“Yes,” he replied. “Especially if one is paying for a suite. I assume Rose sent some cash with you?”
Leah nodded.
“Good. Order whatever you’d like.”
Leah turned and walked toward the dining room. How she’d like to be back in Newport at this moment, tending her bees. Alone.
Chapter 7
The suite was much too elegant for Leah’s comfort. Yards of brocade covered the windows, and plush carpet softened her footsteps. An upholstered settee and chairs furnished the sitting room, and the two bedrooms on either side had spacious beds dressed with linen sheets and silk coverings.
Matthew disappeared after lunch, saying he wanted to see the sights of Washington, leaving Leah alone with Caleb.
Her husband sat by the window looking out at the rain, his head resting on his hand. Leah searched Caleb’s face for signs of discomfort but found only fatigue. “Would thee like to lie down?”
“I’m tired of beds and sickness. If the weather were better, we’d go for a ride in the country. Fresh air and sunshine would do me good.”
He could barely sit erect. How did he think he could manage a ride in the country? “The kitchen staff gave me radish leaves. The juice, mixed with honey, will be good for thy liver.” Leah dipped a large spoon into the pitcher of mixture and held it to Caleb’s mouth.
He frowned suspiciously at the spoon. “How do you know
I suffer from problems of the liver?”
“The whites of thine eyes are yellow as well as thy skin. And thee told Matthew the shot damaged thy liver. I can also see thee has a fever. I don’t have to be a physician to diagnose what is so plainly evident.”
“You and your box of medicinals. Do you think honey will cure everything?”
“Not everything, but neither will it hurt. Now, will thee take the medicine, or will thee continue to scowl like a four-year-old?” Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in obvious surprise at her forceful tone. Leah grinned at him. Despite the times her voice had refused to show itself, and despite her husband’s poor condition, her position as wife and caregiver empowered her. She knew what to do for him, and she intended to do it. Caleb opened his mouth, and Leah slipped the spoon between his teeth. “Four times a day, I think. Until thy skin and eyes return to their normal color.”
“At least the honey masks the taste.” Caleb shifted in his chair so that he faced the sitting room rather than the window. “Tell me about my family.”
“Everyone is well,” Leah answered, lowering herself onto the settee. “Stephen spends every day with his colt and is learning his letters. Olivia does well in school and has begun to accept me. Rose is healthy. Joseph intends to marry and bring his wife to live on the farm.”
Caleb stared at her for a few moments, as though disbelieving so much could have happened in the short time he’d been gone. “I believe you are leaving out a lot of details. Who is teaching Stephen?”
“I am,” she said.
“I wondered if you could read and write.”
“Of course I can. We Friends believe strongly in education.
Why did thee doubt my ability to read and write?”
“Because you never wrote to me. I assume you received my letter.”
The letter. The one that said so little. “Yes.”
“You had no interest in writing me?”
Leah shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t know what to write.”
Caleb watched her as though she would suddenly erupt with all the unspoken feelings she’d been guarding. But Leah wasn’t about to tell him how disappointed she’d been with his curt message.
Caleb cleared his throat. “I don’t believe Olivia simply woke up one morning and decided to start calling you mother. Did she give you any problems?”
Leah turned her head. Olivia would consider it a breach of trust if Leah told Caleb about the beehives. “She took it very hard when thee left. Olivia wants to please thee. She wants to earn thy esteem and be treated with respect, but thee thinks of her as a little girl.”
“She is a little girl.”
“She is a young woman.”
Caleb’s dark brows drew together. “You’re dodging the question. Did she give you any problems?”
She should tell her husband the truth, but how could she do that and keep Olivia’s trust? “Does thee remember when I told thee God would open a way?”
“I remember.”
“He did indeed open a way to Olivia’s heart. It involved bee stings and broken honeycombs, but the outcome was forgiveness and redemption. Olivia and I get along fine now.”
Caleb leaned forward. “You’re not going to tell me more, are you?”
Leah smoothed her skirt then folded her hands in her lap.
Caleb leaned back. “Very well. Who gave Joseph permission to bring a woman to the farm?”
“Your aunt. Delia, that’s Joseph’s intended, is a wonderful cook, and Rose offered her a position.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“Christmas Day, I believe, although it may be earlier. Joseph and Delia plan to be married during a First Day meeting.”
“Joseph is going to the Quaker meetings?”
“He is. Stephen goes with us, too.”
Caleb leaned forward, his hands gripping the chair’s arms. “My son is becoming a Quaker?” he asked, his surprise evident in his voice.
“No, although I don’t think that would be a bad thing. He comes to play with my youngest cousin, John.”
“Hmm.” Caleb relaxed in his chair and turned his gaze to the window once again. “How much money did Rose send?”
Leah thought about the bulging pocket underneath her skirt. “Hundreds of dollars. Shall I give it to thee now?”
“Is it in your reticule?”
Leah looked at her small bag. “No. I’ll go into the bedroom and get it.” She stepped into a bedroom, closed the door, and lifted the hem of her skirt. She’d just begun to unbutton the secret pocket when she heard the door swing open.
“Aren’t you the smart one?” Caleb asked. “Surely there’s no place more secure than a Quaker’s petticoat.”
Leah dropped her skirt and whirled toward the door. Her husband stood in the doorway, a look of amusement on his face.
Leah smoothed her skirt. “Doesn’t thee knock before entering a lady’s room?”
Caleb bowed. “My apologies. I thought you’d come in here to get your traveling bag, and I wanted to tell you Matthew had put it in the other bedroom.”
Leah tucked wisps of hair under her prayer cap. Then, aware that her hands were flying around her face like moths to a lantern, she clasped her hands behind her back. “I was afraid to leave such a large sum of money unguarded.”
“So I see. Will you give it to me now?”
“Will thee please wait in the other room?”
Caleb crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned on the bureau. “I don’t think so.”
Leah narrowed her eyes. What game was he playing? She had no reason to be modest around her husband, and yet he wasn’t her husband. Not really. She turned her back to him, reached under her skirt, and retrieved the money. She placed it on the bureau and stepped back.
Caleb took the money and counted it. “This should be enough to last us several weeks if we choose to stay at the hotel. But I have been given medical leave and am anxious to return home.”
Leah thought of how difficult the trip to Washington had been. “I’m concerned about thy ability to make the journey. Would thee consider waiting until thy strength returns?”
“Perhaps. But if I have to sit in this hotel room with nothing to do but worry about my family and wonder about my regiment, I’ll be as miserable as I was in the hospital.”
“Does thee enjoy reading? There’s a stationer’s shop nearby. I could buy some books for thee.”
“That would be a good start. And while you’re out, see if you can find information about concerts or lectures or plays in the city. Anything to break the monotony of being in the same room, hour after hour.”
Leah brushed past Caleb, returned to the sitting room, and retrieved her bonnet and cape. “I understand thee is tired of bed, but try to rest until I return. There are worse treatments than radish leaves, and I’m not above trying them on thee.”
For the first time that day, Caleb smiled. “Did my Quaker wife make a joke? Why Leah Wall, I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”
There was a lot her husband didn’t know about her, but Leah declined the opportunity to point that out. She smiled and walked out of the room. Concerts, lectures, and plays. Life in the capital certainly was different from Newport.
Caleb closed the novel and looked over at the park bench where Leah sat with her sewing. “I believe this is my favorite of Mr. Dickens’s novels. I’ve read them all, you know.”
“What is it thee likes so much about Great Expectations?”
“The main character, Pip, is a fine fellow. He’s been mistreated, as all of Mr. Dickens’s characters seem to be, and I fear love will play him for a fool. But he’s got a brave heart, and that will most likely see him through to the end.”
Leah looked at the book on Caleb’s knee. “I’d like to read it when thee has finished, but thee mustn’t spoil the ending for me.”
“Have you read any of Mr. Dickens’s stories?”
“None. Reading novels was considered a waste of time in Uncle Abram’s house.”
“I have several of Mr. Dickens’s books at home. I’ll gladly lend them to you.” Caleb covered his mouth with his hand and yawned, leaned his head against the back of the bench, and closed his eyes.
Leah waited for the steady breathing she’d come to recognize as sleep. During the first nights at the hotel, she’d sat by his bedside and nursed him through feverish dreams, but bit by bit, the fever had left his body, and peaceful slumber had done its part to restore his health.
Matthew took over the nursing duties in the daylight hours, allowing Leah a chance to sleep on the sitting room settee. But as Caleb’s health improved, the sleeping arrangements had become more awkward. Husbands and wives slept together. That was the way Leah had been raised, and that was what Matthew had expected when he’d placed Leah’s traveling bag in Caleb’s bedroom. But once Caleb began sleeping through the night, there was no reason for Leah to keep vigil.
One night after Matthew bade them good night, Caleb asked Leah to join him in the sitting room. “You’ve been a most attentive nurse,” he said, “but your eyes are showing the effects of sleepless nights.”
Leah’s fingers had automatically gone to the dark circles she knew were shadowing her eyes, but she said nothing.
“You will take the bed from now on, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No,” Leah protested. “Thee needs rest and the cold floor will do thee no good. I can continue to sleep on the settee.”
Caleb’s frown communicated his disdain for her idea. “You’re too tall for that tiny settee. How you’ve curved your body to fit into it is a mystery. If you don’t get real rest soon, our roles as patient and nurse will be reversed. And I warn you, I do not make a good nurse. Would you prefer me to speak to Matthew? He could share my room, or I could rent a room for you.”
“No,” she answered, more forcefully than she intended. Caleb raised an eyebrow in question, and Leah hurried to explain. “Matthew doesn’t need to know the details of thy agreement with my uncle.”
“I see. You’ve spoken with your uncle about that agreement?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And what did you think about it?”
Leah felt her heart shutter itself against the pain of her uncle’s bargain. She’d been so foolish on her wedding day, secretly rejoicing to be a wife. Who had she been to think a man like Caleb had truly desired her? “Does it matter?” Leah said in what she hoped was a casual tone. “I am married. I made a vow before God to love, honor, and obey thee until death parts us. I will do my best to fulfill those vows.”
“To love, honor, and obey me.”
“Yes.”
“Well I certainly have no complaints about your obedience, and your behavior has honored my name, but how can you vow to love me? You don’t love me, do you Leah?”
How could she answer such a question? She loved his family, she loved her new home, but she didn’t know her husband. “I could ask the same question of thee, Caleb Whitaker. Thee vowed to love, honor, and comfort me. How does thee plan to fulfill thy vows?”
Caleb couldn’t meet her gaze, and Leah knew her words had hit a sore spot. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t speak of such matters. I confess my pride took a beating when Uncle Abram told me he’d bartered me away like a bondservant, but the Bible teaches us pride is a barrier to the Lord’s will. I’ve tried to humble myself and listen for the Holy Spirit’s guidance.”
“And what has the Holy Spirit told you so far?”
“That perhaps I am of use to thee and thy family.” Leah smiled as images of Stephen and Olivia formed in her mind. “Thy children have captured my heart. Stephen’s mind is open to all the wondrous things of God’s universe. He marvels at the wings of dragonflies and the swiftness of squirrels, and his questions never, never stop. Thy beautiful daughter is like a young bird, perched on the precipice of adulthood. One day she is eager to try her wings and fly toward independence; the next day she clings to her girlhood, fussing with her dolls or playing make-believe with school friends.”
Caleb held out his hands, palms up. “You have indeed been of use to me and my family, and I thank you for it.”
Leah looked at her husband’s hands. He was clearly waiting for her to place her hands in his. “It’s hardly necessary to thank me.”
“And yet I do.”
Leah’s heart warmed at his words. She gently laid her hands on top of his, and he closed his fingers around them.
“But we still have the issue of beds to solve,” Caleb said. “If you do not wish Matthew to know of our arrangement, we’ll share the bed. You have no need to fear any unwanted actions on my part.”
How Leah wanted to tell him she’d never been afraid of him. How she yearned to tell him she longed to be a true wife. But she couldn’t. The gift of bold speech had never been one of her talents, and her tongue failed her once again. “Very well,” she said meekly.
She’d gone into the bedroom, undressed, and pulled the wrapper tight against her shift. She slid under the covers and lay on her side, her face to the wall, and her muscles taut. Caleb followed a few minutes later and dimmed the oil lamp on the bedside table. As she listened to him undress in the semidarkness, her mind filled with questions she’d never ask. Did he regret
marrying her? Were his few months of military service worth the sacrifice he’d made?
Caleb eased into the bed beside her, and Leah’s breath caught in her throat. Every nerve stretched to feel his presence beside her.
They lay in silence, side by side, for several minutes, until Caleb whispered her name. “Leah?”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“Tell me about the farm.”
She turned over and studied his profile. He lay on his back, one arm at his side, the other resting on his stomach. Neither darkness nor illness could diminish his handsomeness. His dark brows framed eyes that glistened in the soft moonlight, and his breath passed through his perfectly formed lips. He was homesick, she realized. Wistful for his family and home. She paused to gather her thoughts and sent a quick prayer heavenward. She needed the right words to comfort him.
“My favorite spot is the orchard,” she began. “I put my beehives there in a shelter Joseph built, and I often go to tend the bees when they don’t really need my attention.”
“What is it about the orchard that attracts you?”
“The active stillness of the place.”
A glint of moonlight shone on Caleb’s teeth as he smiled. “What does that mean?”
“The orchard pretends to be a peaceful place, but it isn’t. At dawn the birds sing a raucous chorus as they flutter through the trees, quarreling over which tree belongs to whom. In the evening, it’s the insects’ turn to chirp and whirr as they fight over the last scraps of food, and at night, the trees are limned in silver as they dance at the wind’s command. Thy orchard is a place of promise. After the first snowfall, the trees will go dormant, protecting the forthcoming fruit as though it were King Solomon’s treasure. But spring always comes. No matter how bitter the winter, spring always comes.”
“And my children? Tell me more about them.”
Leah conveyed a second quick prayer, waiting for the words to form in her mind before answering. “In a few years, Olivia will undoubtedly marry and begin a family of her own, but her heart will always belong to thee. How she loves thee, Caleb. ‘My father is fighting in the cavalry,’ she tells her friends. ‘He rides better than any man in the county, and he knows everything about horses.’ She yearns for thy approval as she leaves her childhood behind and becomes a woman. Stephen, however, has no such qualms. He seldom pauses to consider our approval before acting. Joseph caught him climbing the barn rafters one day, and when I asked Stephen what he’d been doing, he simply answered, ‘Looking for bats.’ Such curiosity and adventurousness is a blessing, I think. Thy son’s bravery will serve him well as he grows into manhood.” Caleb closed his eyes and moved his hand toward Leah. Leah’s heart quickened as she placed her hand in his. “Thank you, Leah.” Then he rested their hands on the bed and surrendered to sleep.
Quakers of New Garden Page 20
