“I’m thinking of going to Topeka. Moses mentioned I could go and live there and act as a reporter for his newspapers—send him information and write articles. Doesn’t that sound like an excellent idea?”
Grace dried a tin plate and placed it on the top of the stack. “Not if it means you’re going to leave us.” The girl was near tears.
“No need to cry, Grace,” Jarena comforted. “I haven’t made a final decision.”
When they all came together around the supper table later that evening, an air of foreboding filled the room. Jarena couldn’t put her finger on the exact cause. Silas was exhibiting a childlike enthusiasm after spending an afternoon in the fields with her father, but there was something more. She sensed a crackling tension that threatened to explode at any moment, yet the others seated at the table appeared perfectly calm.
As Jarena cut and served slices of apple pie, she realized she’d overreacted throughout the meal. Silly girl! She could have relaxed and enjoyed the time with her family rather than anticipating some worrisome event.
“Sounds like a rider approaching.” Ezekiel pushed back from the table and walked toward the door.
Jarena held her breath and waited, listening as the sound of pounding hooves drew nearer and then came to a stop outside the house.
“Ezekiel Harban?” A male voice hollered the question.
“I am. Who’s it that’s wantin’ to know?”
Jarena gasped in surprise as Bentley Cummings pushed her father aside and entered the room. “Come with me, Jarena,” he said, pointing his riding crop at her. “I must speak with you.” His command nearly shook the walls of the soddy. Why did he want her? She clutched the back of a chair as her father started toward Bentley.
“It’s all right, Pappy. I’ll call out if I need you.” Jarena released her grasp on the chair and patted her father’s arm. “He won’t do anything to harm me.”
Bentley was standing by his horse when she stepped outside, staying close to the doorway. “What is it you want from me, Mr. Cummings?” He removed a large envelope from a pouch slung across his saddle. “If you’re truly Lilly’s daughter, she’ll likely contact you before anyone else. I’m leaving for New Orleans in the morning. Should Lilly return to Kansas or advise you of her whereabouts, see that she receives this. And tell her that I personally delivered it to you.”
“That’s all you want me to say?”
“Everything else Lilly needs to know is inside that envelope.” Without another word, he mounted the bay mare and rode off toward Hill City as though the devil were on his heels.
CHAPTER
31
Nicodemus , Kansas
November!”
“My gown—” Truth began.
Moses cut her short. “Your gown has already been completed. Mrs. Kramer said you could come by for a final fitting anytime. I say we get married a week from Sunday.”
Ezekiel jovially slapped his hand on the table. “Sounds like a good day ta me. I’ll have the preacher announce it in church come Sunday mornin’.”
Truth shook her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t think we can have enough food by then, and the other—” Ezekiel waved dismissively. “Me and Jarena can go talk to Miss Hattie tomorra. She and the womenfolk will have ever’thing ready in no time.”
“But . . .” Truth made eye contract with Jarena as she scrambled for a reply. “Well, I’m not certain Jarena wants to help prepare for my wedding, Pappy. She has other matters occupying her mind right now.”
Jarena wasn’t sure whether Truth was truly concerned or was merely using her as an excuse to delay the wedding. All she could do was answer honestly. “If you want to have the wedding a week from Sunday, I’ll be pleased to help Miss Hattie and the other women. It’s up to you, Truth.”
Before Truth could respond, Ezekiel slapped Moses on the shoulder. “It’s settled then. We’s gonna have a weddin’ after church a week from Sunday.”
Moses’s eyes glowed with delight. He leaned sideways and gave Truth a light kiss on the cheek. But Jarena was sure she still saw concern in Truth’s expression. Surely she still loved Moses. How could she not? He was kind and patient; he would give her a good life. Perhaps the trauma of all she’d been through in New York had taken more of a toll on her than any of them realized. And there was little doubt Silas was unhappy with the whole conversation. He excused himself with a low mumble.
While the others continued planning the wedding, Jarena slipped outside and approached Silas. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Stars sure is bright out here on the prairie. Never noticed ’em so much back in New York City.”
“Are you regretting your decision to come west?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I wants to own land, and there’s nothin’ gonna change that. One day I’ll have me enough money to get started. I’s a hard worker.”
“I don’t doubt that one bit. But you seem . . . You knew about Truth and Moses—that they were going to marry? Before you made your decision to come to Kansas, I mean?”
He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Truth tol’ me. Maybe I jest was hopin’ . . . I can see that Moses is a good man for her, though.”
The moon dappled his face with light, and Jarena caught a glimpse of his sad countenance. “We’re all thankful for what you did to help Truth and Macia, and I know you’re going to be happy here in Nico-demus. Why don’t you come back inside?”
“I’s gonna stay out here a little longer an’ enjoy the night.”
Jarena doubted there was any more she could do to help Silas overcome his gloom, so she left him to contemplate his future. Only he could decide what path to follow, just as she must decide for herself. Though she refused to give up hope for Thomas, she needed a plan. After all, she didn’t want to remain under her father’s roof indefinitely. Could her future possibly be in Topeka?
Ten days! Why had she agreed to move forward with so little time to prepare? And why had she agreed to return to her job at the Boyle house in the meantime? When Mrs. Boyle wasn’t loudly lamenting the fact that she would soon lose her household help, Truth was busy scolding herself for having approved the rapidly approaching wedding date. In addition, she had waited two days before paying Mrs. Kramer a visit and was now regretting that decision, also. From the loose fit of her gown, it was obvious Truth had dwindled by at least one dress size while in New York. Though all of her clothing had become a bit ill-fitting, Truth hadn’t given any thought to a problem with her wedding dress. However, Mrs. Kramer was taking the weight loss as a personal affront. The seamstress acted as though Truth had purposefully set out to make her life more difficult.
Truth slowly turned in a circle while Mrs. Kramer pinned the satin fabric and mumbled disapproving words. When she could listen no longer, Truth firmly planted her feet and frowned. “I, too, would much rather be using my time otherwise, Mrs. Kramer. If you don’t want to complete the alterations, I’ll take the dress to Nicodemus. I’m certain Jarena can complete the task for me.”
Mrs. Kramer nearly choked on the pins she held tightly between her lips. “You’ll do no such thing.” Several pins dropped from her mouth as she sputtered the remark. “I created this gown, and I’ll not have anyone else taking credit for my talent.”
Truth arched her eyebrows and shrugged. There was no pleasing the woman. Having a special wedding gown fashioned by Mrs. Kramer had been Moses’s idea. Truth had planned to wear a simple dress, but he had insisted she have something special. She didn’t know how a dress would make such a difference, for she would be every bit as married in a simple calico as in this flowing satin creation that was causing both Mrs. Kramer and herself far too much time and heartache.
She could only hope that Jarena wasn’t experiencing comparable difficulties while making arrangements for the reception that would follow the ceremony. Thankfully, Moses was in charge of plans regarding their wedding trip. Truth couldn’t bring herself to tell him she’d prefe
r to remain at home; after all, she’d been gone nearly all summer. Fortunately, he’d agreed they would be gone no longer than ten days.
“I believe that will take care of all the measurements for today. You can come back on Monday for your final fitting. And no more weight changes—no gains or losses!” Mrs. Kramer shook her finger as though she were scolding a naughty child.
“Ten o’clock?”
“Nine! And don’t be late—you were ten minutes late today.”
“Yes, ma’am. Nine o’clock with no weight variations.” The bell above the door clanked a harsh protest as she jerked on the door handle and departed the shop, anxious to be on her way.
Time was melting away like ice on a summer afternoon, and Truth could do nothing to slow the progression. After a brief stop at the general store, she walked briskly to the Boyle home. Macia was likely pacing the floor, for she had invited Jeb Malone and his little sister, Lucy, for supper. Though Macia had insisted she would cook the meal, Truth had little doubt how the tasks would be divided when dinner preparations actually began. Macia had difficulty finding the coffee grinder or a cone of sugar, and her few ventures into the kitchen had always turned into some form of disaster. Truth wondered how Macia could possibly expect to cook and serve an entire evening meal. Even more confusing, why did she want to?
As Truth readjusted the basket of groceries, she recalled a visit with Macia the night before. The girl had vacillated over her feelings for Jeb, and Truth wondered if tonight’s meal was intended to impress him, or would this be his proverbial “last supper” with the Boyle family. If it was the latter, Truth knew he would likely be devastated—not to mention the impact such a pronouncement might have upon young Lucy. There was little doubt Jeb’s sister adored Macia and had been scheming to have her brother wed Macia since the day they’d met. And even though Jeb appeared more than ready to make his sister’s dream come true, Macia had remained either unwilling or unable to make a clear-cut commitment. Possibly the New York experience had impacted Macia more than Truth thought. Selfishly, Truth hoped all would go smoothly at supper, for she wanted nothing more than a peaceful evening.
As she rounded the corner, Truth spotted Macia on the front porch. Wearing an apron and holding a frying skillet in one hand, the girl looked like an armed warrior prepared for battle. Only a dead chicken swinging from Macia’s other hand would have made the scene more amusing. When Macia lifted the skillet into the air and announced she was ready to begin, Truth was forced to hold her laughter in check.
With a nod, Truth mounted the steps and walked to the kitchen with Macia close on her heels. Setting the basket atop the chopping table, Truth instructed Macia to combine a bit of cornmeal with flour and then set to scurrying about the kitchen, shelving items in the pantry. What she really wanted was a cup of tea and a few minutes to relax. Instead, she stood watch while Macia added a pinch of salt and pepper and then dipped the pieces of raw chicken into an egg and milk wash before dredging them in the flour mixture. Preparing the meal herself would have been much easier—and faster.
“Put a dollop of lard in the skillet so it can begin melting while you finish flouring the rest of the pieces. You’ll need to peel potatoes.” Macia looked at her flour-covered hands as though she wasn’t quite certain how to accomplish both tasks. Without giving Macia opportunity to object, Truth took over the task of frying the chicken.
However, when Macia cut her forefinger in two different places only minutes later, Truth wondered if there was any task in the kitchen for which Macia was suited. Pointing the novice cook toward the stove, Truth instructed Macia to stand watch over the chicken while she finished peeling the potatoes.
Macia was staring out the window when the unpleasant odor of burning food curled from the stove and filled the kitchen. “Macia!” Truth shouted. “Turn the chicken. It’s burning!”
Though she burned her unprotected hand while grabbing the skillet handle, Truth managed to salvage most of the chicken. Lamenting her failure as a culinary artiste, Macia flopped down on one of the kitchen chairs, legs akimbo, while Truth scuttled around her and continued preparing the meal. A short time later, Macia swiped a drooping curl from her forehead and announced she was going upstairs to change her dress. Truth stared after her in astonishment. So much for help in the kitchen!
CHAPTER
32
Hill City , Kansas
Truth glanced at the clock, thankful Macia was at least willing to answer the door. Dr. Boyle would be home any moment, and Mrs. Boyle would soon be making her way into the parlor. Lucy’s laughter floated into the kitchen, and Truth wondered if the young girl’s joy would turn to tears before evening’s end. She uttered a quick prayer as she continued to mash the potatoes.
When Dr. Boyle arrived home, Truth began the final meal preparations. She thickened the chicken gravy and filled the serving platters and bowls. By the time the family had gathered in the dining room, Truth was carrying food to the table. Though she thought Macia might at least help serve the meal, it was obvious she had reverted to the role of hostess. At present, she was successfully coaxing a smile from her mother. Fortunately, Mrs. Boyle had rested all day, and Truth surmised the older woman would remain in good spirits.
After the group joined hands, Dr. Boyle offered a prayer of thanks for their meal, and plates were soon being filled with the fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Jeb and Dr. Boyle launched into a discussion of the railroad, each anxious to offer opinions regarding the possible routes that might one day be laid through northern Kansas. It was obvious both Mrs. Boyle and Macia were bored with the conversation, but neither interrupted. Truth was about to remove the plates and serve dessert when the railroad conversation finally lulled.
Without hesitation, Mrs. Boyle took command. “Macia has an announcement to make, don’t you, my dear?”
Macia startled, eyes wide and fingernails digging into the tablecloth. She looked like a housecat caught in a raging thunderstorm. “I have something to say that may come as somewhat of a surprise to all of you—except Mother.”
Macia’s fear was palpable as they silently waited for her to continue. Truth studied Mrs. Boyle, wondering if she had something to do with Macia’s upcoming announcement. The older woman appeared complacent, which was likely not a good sign that the news was going to bode well for Jeb and Lucy. Mrs. Boyle had never wanted Macia to marry the blacksmith.
Macia took a sip of water and cleared her throat. “I’ve made a decision regarding my immediate future.”
Jeb’s eyes widened, and Lucy scooted to the edge of her chair.
“Mother was corresponding with her friend, Mrs. Donlevy, before I departed for New York.”
“Actually it was after you took ill in New York, but that fact is of little consequence,” Mrs. Boyle interjected. When Macia didn’t continue, Mrs. Boyle announced, “What Macia wants to tell all of you is that she has decided to accompany Mrs. Donlevy to Europe. She will act as a traveling companion on the voyage and tour Europe with Mildred. Isn’t that exciting news?”
Lucy gasped; Jeb’s fork clanged as it dropped from his hand and chipped the edge of the china dinner plate; Dr. Boyle stared in astonishment; Mrs. Boyle smiled, and Macia looked as though she might faint. Though Truth longed to run from the room, she forced a smile and calmly offered dessert.
No one acknowledged her offer. In fact, no one said a word until Lucy tossed her napkin onto the table and ran from the room.Without taking time to excuse himself, Jeb hurried after his sister. Truth dropped into one of the recently vacated chairs and waited.
Dr. Boyle’s hand shook as he pointed his index finger at his wife. “Whose idea was it that this announcement be made at supper rather than in private? You, Margaret? Macia? Did you know about this, Truth?”
Truth immediately shook her head. “Oh no, Dr. Boyle. I didn’t know anything about any of this.” She stood up, wanting to distance herself from the entire situation, but Dr. Boyle waved her back down.
“
I want this matter sorted out right now. Someone owes me an immediate explanation of how these plans were formulated without my knowledge. Margaret?”
Mrs. Boyle fidgeted in her chair before finally speaking. “I feared Macia would return from New York with no aspirations for her future. I want more for my daughter than a life in this dreary town. She deserves more, Samuel.” Macia remained silent—like a lifeless rag doll placed in a chair at the dinner table—expected to be seen but not heard.
Mrs. Boyle straightened her shoulders and continued. “Once she’s traveled abroad, she will be better prepared to make a decision regarding her future. If Jeb truly cares for her, he’ll wait another six months.
At the end of that time, if Macia wants to return and marry, I won’t interfere or object.”
Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, Mrs. Boyle wiped the corner of her eye. “If she marries Jeb now, we both know she’ll never have an opportunity to travel abroad. I want her to experience more before she agrees to remain in this town.”
“I suppose you make a valid point. Nevertheless, I still don’t concur with the way this has been handled,” Dr. Boyle said, a hint of anger returning to his voice.
Mrs. Boyle once again dabbed her eyes with the lace-edged hankie.
“I’ll concede that making the announcement at supper was a distasteful idea, but I feared Macia would lose her courage if she attempted to speak with Jeb alone. After all, young men can be quite persuasive.”
She sniffed, and Dr. Boyle reached across the table to pat his wife’s hand.
“Now, now, stop your weeping, my dear. I suppose if Macia truly wants to travel for six months, that’s not too much to ask. However, that means we’ll need to seek help for you here at the house. You must remember, Truth will be leaving us very soon.”
The tears in Mrs. Boyle’s eyes were soon replaced with a gleaming twinkle as she explained how she’d been feeling much better of late and was certain she’d do fine until they could find someone to help with the house. Truth wondered if Dr. Boyle thought it amazing that his wife rallied when things went her way. The abrupt onsets and cures of the woman’s undiagnosed maladies were always truly convenient. Possibly Dr. Boyle had decided long ago to take his wife’s opportune ailments in stride. In any event, the entire evening had been completely unsettling.
Morning Sky Page 26
