Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]

by Shadow on the Quilt

  If anyone knew how many worlds apart he and Juliana were, it was him. The woman had had her portrait painted by one of the premier portrait artists in America. She had a Cezanne hanging in the hallway. Every single thing in that house was a reminder that this was not a woman to be courted by a builder. The fact that she’d married one had nothing to do with it. Sterling and Juliana Sutton might have started out with very little, but that had changed quickly, thanks in part to the boss’s skill, but mostly to an inheritance. The boss’s father had died suddenly while the newly married Juliana and Sterling Sutton were on their wedding trip.

  He shouldn’t be thinking of her by her Christian name. She was Mrs. Sutton to him. And if he kept saying it enough, he would finally get it through his thick skull and stop wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips … to see passion glimmer in those dark eyes.

  Juliana sat on the back porch, a glass of lemonade in her hand, praying for a breeze. With the advent of August, everything had seemed to slow down. The prairie shimmered as waves of heat rose from the earth. It wasn’t unusual to see what appeared to be a lake on the distant horizon. The earth seemed to hold its breath. Tecumseh and Fancy and Sterling’s prized bays stood side by side in the pasture, heads down, motionless except for their long tails swishing in an unending battle with flies. The shade in the barn offered little relief. Alfred pumped fresh water into the stock tanks every morning. Even so, the water was lukewarm by noon.

  Helen and George Duncan had departed for an excursion to the West Coast, and in Helen’s absence, the committee decided to take a respite from weekly meetings. Lutie Gleason was dropping in on the home maintained by Mrs. Crutchfield in Helen’s absence. She said visiting the children in person would help her be more familiar with the actual needs and help her plan a more successful toy drive.

  Juliana had expected to enjoy the slower pace of life and some time to herself, but the aunts had only been gone a little over a week before she began to feel restless. She missed the constant activity around the opening of Friendship Home. Today, the quiet resulting from Alfred and Martha’s second Monday off since the aunts had left was quickly becoming oppressive.

  With a sigh, Juliana laid aside the copy of the Ladies’ Home Journal she’d been trying to read. And she decided. She would only take a short ride, and she wouldn’t demand much of anything past a brief trot from Tecumseh, but surely it would do them both good to get their blood moving.

  She’d eschewed black since the aunts left. There was no reason to languish in mourning attire when she was home alone all day—save for the occasional visit from Cass, when he stopped to report on the building progress or ask a question. But Cass hadn’t stopped by for a few days, and she missed hearing the news.

  She’d started the day in white lawn. Instead of a black waist beneath her riding habit, she would opt for white voile. And it was ridiculous to wear a jacket in this heat. When she headed out to the barn to saddle Tecumseh, she was doubly glad she’d been sensible about that. She filled a flask with water and tucked it at her waist before heading out.

  She hadn’t consciously planned to ride that far, but she ended up at the construction site. She’d taken note of countless butterflies fluttering around the clusters of butterfly weed dotting the prairie and scared up a covey of quail that had given her the delightful sight of at least a dozen chicks.

  As she rode up to Friendship Home, it appeared that she’d arrived at another empty house. Where was everyone? She dismounted and, pulling off her gloves, led Tecumseh to the well behind the stone cottage. “Don’t you dare go anywhere,” she said. “I’m getting us a drink.” Tecumseh waited. She had lowered the bucket and hauled it halfway back up when the horse snuffled her shoulder. Startled, she let go of the windlass. Seconds later, she heard the splash far below, as the bucket hit the water.

  “You are incorrigible.” She led Tecumseh to the pasture fence and tied him up. “There. Now you’ll have to behave.”

  “You sure he can’t untie those reins?”

  Juliana whirled about. Cass?

  “Sorry if I frightened you. It’s awfully hot for a lady to be out and about.”

  “It’s awfully hot for a man to walk out here from town.” She looked toward the pasture. “I don’t see Baron. And where is everyone?”

  “Baron’s grazing east of the house today in the shade.”

  “Hobbles?”

  He nodded.

  “And everyone else?”

  “I thought I mentioned that when I stopped in last week. We’ve been coming out early since it got so hot. Meeting at the lumberyard right before dawn, loading up by lantern light, and starting work out here as soon as the sun comes up. We still get in most of a good day’s work, but we miss the worst of the heat.”

  “Don’t you want to miss the worst of the heat?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve gotten in the habit of lingering. It gives me a chance to check over things more carefully.” He paused. “I didn’t think you’d mind the change in schedule. I suppose I should have checked with you. As soon as it cools off even a little, we can put in extra hours if we need to.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. You don’t need to ask about things like that.”

  “Just making sure the boss doesn’t think I’m slacking.”

  “I wish you’d stop calling me ‘the boss.’” She began to haul the water back up. “I have a name. It’s Juliana.” She supposed it was rather … bold to suggest he use her given name, but why not? They’d become friends, hadn’t they?

  “Yes, ma’am.” He came to her side. “Here. Let me do that.” His hand grazed hers as he took over.

  She went to Tecumseh and untied the reins from the fence. Cass set the bucket on the rim of the well and filled a dipper. He held it out to her. She took it and drank. He toasted her with the next dipperful and drank it himself, then set the bucket down for Tecumseh.

  “I should probably carry a bucket over to Baron,” Cass said. He nodded at the house. “The main-floor rooms are all plastered now, and we installed the stove in the cottage kitchen. I ordered a duplicate for Martha’s kitchen in town.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to install the one out here yet for fear of thieves.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t thieves coming out here when no one was around.” He lowered the bucket back down the well.

  The Duncans. Juliana smiled. “The Duncans are taking the train all the way to San Francisco. I think George is trying to make up for the house.”

  Cass chuckled. “Then let us hope that no one tells Mrs. Duncan that the railroad often gives free tickets to stockholders.” Setting the refilled bucket on the rim of the well, he untied it and headed toward Baron, just visible now grazing on the east side of the house.

  Juliana followed him, still leading Tecumseh, who whickered when he saw Baron. Baron lifted his head and answered, then lowered his head to drink as Cass set the bucket down.

  “Free tickets or not,” Juliana said, “I hope the trip helps mend things between them.”

  Cass rested his hand on Baron’s broad back. “You seem kindly intentioned toward the Duncans all of a sudden.”

  “Helen and I have made our peace.” She told him about the day Helen had come to the house to apologize. “We’ve done a lot of work together since that day. I almost dare to say we’ve become friends.”

  Cass pulled the bucket away from Baron and offered Tecumseh another drink, then emptied it and set it on the now-completed back steps leading up to the porch that spanned the rear of the house.

  “What would you think of screening this in?” he asked. “It would give children a fly-free place to play on hot days like this.”

  “Do it.”

  He laughed. “That was easy. Beware. If you’re feeling inclined to say yes today, you never know what I might ask for.” He looked away quickly. “I mean—I could ask for a raise.”

  “And I would give it.” She looked up at the back of the house. “You don’t
happen to have an extra set of hobbles, do you? I think I’d like to go in.”

  “I don’t. Why don’t we turn both horses into the pasture? Then you can take your time walking through. They’d probably both rather drink muddy creek water anyway.” When she nodded, he bent to remove Baron’s hobbles and, grasping the horse’s hackamore, led the way to the pasture.

  A few minutes later, Juliana had been through the entire house and was standing in the first-floor turret room, wondering aloud if it was big enough for the matron’s office. She told Cass about all the organizational details the committee had been dealing with and outlined the matron’s record-keeping duties. “She’s going to need at least one filing cabinet, and as the years go by, we’re going to have to add on. Now that I think of it, wouldn’t it be perfect to have a medical clinic on the grounds? Lutie Gleason has been visiting the babies since Helen left, and she says it’s heartbreaking—the state of health when some of them arrive.” She paused. “I should speak with Dr. Gilbert about that. Maybe we should be hiring our own full-time physician.” She stopped abruptly and looked at Cass. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, smiling at her. “Did I say something amusing?”

  “No, ma’am. I was smiling at you. At the way you think. The way you see it all finished and anticipate what’s going to be needed in the future.” He held up his hands. “You see the big picture. That’s a gift. Simply put: you, Mrs. Sutton, are a wonder.”

  “Juliana.” She could feel herself blushing.

  He smiled. Nodded. “All right. You are a wonder, Juliana.”

  For some reason, the sight of a handsome man looking at her—that way—brought all the memories flooding back. Sterling had looked at her like that when they’d first met. A curious combination of longing and sadness made her turn away from him. She crossed to the windows, blinking away tears. Wonders don’t discover mistresses’ photographs in dresser drawers. Wonders—

  “What did I say? Juliana? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Wonders’ husbands don’t die in brothels.” Anger and sadness shoved the happiness she’d felt only moments ago back into the shadows.

  Cass stepped close and put his hands on her shoulders.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. Hold me. She bent her head and rested her cheek against the hand gripping her shoulder. He traced her hairline with the forefinger of his free hand. Was he going to kiss her? Her heartbeat ratcheted up. Without letting go of his hand, she pivoted about and looked up at him. Kiss me. What did that expression in his hazel eyes mean? For a moment it seemed that passion flickered and then—it was gone.

  He released her hand and stepped back. “I promised Ma I wouldn’t be late for supper tonight. Let me take you home.”

  They saddled their horses and rode into town together, making small talk about nothing. Once they were back at the house, Cass pumped fresh water into the stock tank while Juliana unsaddled Tecumseh. Still, he stayed. He helped her rub the horse down and turn him out. When there was nothing left to do outside, he gathered Baron’s reins and prepared to mount up.

  She almost asked him to stay. Have a glass of lemonade. Watch the sun go down. Talk about … anything. Just don’t leave until we talk about whatever just happened. But she didn’t get the chance to ask.

  “I appreciate what you said at the house,” he finally said. “About calling you Juliana.” He cleared his throat. “But I think it’s best that things stay the way they’ve been between us. I don’t want people thinking I’m taking liberties with my boss’s widow.”

  It felt like he’d thrown cold water in her face. And all the while she’d thought—whatever she’d thought didn’t matter. She took a step back.

  He seemed to sense that he’d hurt her. “Don’t misunderstand, Juliana, it’s just—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” she said quickly.

  “You’re wrong. I do need to explain.” He took a deep breath. “You’re an exquisite, desirable woman, and your world fell apart only four months ago. Wounds like that don’t heal overnight.” He tugged on the brim of his hat. Looked off toward the horizon. Finally, he met her gaze. “I know you’re in need of a friend right now, and I’d like to be a friend, but the truth is, I don’t think I’m strong enough to be just a friend.” He paused. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He was saying no. She nodded.

  “So … I need to go.” He smiled. “For now.”

  “Good evening, then,” she croaked and headed for the house, feeling foolish. Embarrassed. Like a child who’d reached for something and had her hand slapped. She hurried inside. But she couldn’t keep herself from walking to the front of the house and watching him retreat toward town through the parlor window.

  CHAPTER 22

  Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another.

  1 PETER 3:8

  He didn’t look back, even though he wanted to. Was she watching him ride away? Did she understand? Please, Lord. Let her understand. I couldn’t just come out and say it. A man didn’t blurt out his feelings to a widow of only a few months. But a man couldn’t just stand a few feet away from a beautiful woman and let her cry without doing anything, either. At least he couldn’t.

  Did Juliana realize how close she’d been to getting herself kissed out at the house when she spun around and looked up at him? Did she have any idea what it did to him just now to have her look up at him in the fading light with sadness looming in those dark eyes? The power of the emotion that had roiled through him just now almost scared him. And recognizing it for what it was changed everything.

  As he dismounted at the livery and went through the motions of unsaddling Baron and rubbing him down, Cass gave himself a good talking-to. It was true that his heartbeat ratcheted up a notch every time he saw Tecumseh loping across the prairie toward Friendship Home. More than once, he’d fabricated a reason to stop at the house to update Juliana or to ask a question he already knew the answer to. But it was also true that he and Juliana Sutton were worlds apart. Even if there was something between them beyond—even if there was, it couldn’t happen right now. Juliana needed time, and he would be well served to remember that and to get on about the business of finishing Friendship Home and starting the next project.

  The next project. What would it be? He and Finney had responded to a number of inquiries and put some bids out. A few decisions were also pending on bids the boss had handled before his death. Now that Cass thought about it, he should be giving more attention to the future of Sutton Builders and less to pondering sad brown eyes. Bids on new projects and visiting sites for new construction and poring over plans with potential customers wouldn’t keep him awake at night. At least not in the same way thinking about Juliana did.

  He thought his way back through what seemed to be her new vulnerability today. Why today? Maybe she’d spent more time with him since the aunts had gone on their summer retreat because she was unexpectedly lonely. She might have been surprised by new waves of memory and grief. Without the distraction of committee meetings and company, she was more vulnerable. All of that was very normal, and he shouldn’t read more into what had just happened than that. He’d been a friend in a time when she needed a friend.

  All the way home from the livery, Cass turned things over in his mind, and by the time he got home, he was thinking straight again. He would forget the warmth of her body leaning back against him. He would not dwell on the sweet scent of her clean hair or the fact that she’d asked him to call her Juliana. It would be one of the more difficult things he’d done in a while, but with God’s help … Please, Lord. Show me the way through this.

  Finally home, Cass made his way around the side of the house and to the backyard. He set his hat on the porch, then went to the pump and, ducking his head beneath the spigot, doused himself with cold water. He took a kerchief out of his pocket, soaked it, tied it around his neck, and headed inside. Not thinking about Juliana.

&nb
sp; Sadie called out, even before he had closed the back door. “Don’t believe I know you. You sure you got the right house?” When he didn’t answer, but only bent to kiss Ma on the cheek and head into his room, Sadie called after him. “I remember now. I think we’re related.” She grinned. “That highfalutin boss lady didn’t fire ya, did she? You look like you just lost your best friend.”

  Highfalutin? Juliana isn’t anything of the kind. “She doesn’t like being called ‘the boss,’” he snapped. Snatching at the curtain across his bedroom door, he stepped inside. And of course, the first thing he noticed was the Bible on his night table. Good work, Gregory. You ask God for help, and not a minute later you’re lashing out at Sadie. His anger dissolved just as quickly as it had flared up. With a sigh, he took his hat off and tossed it across the room, intending for it to land on his bed. It tumbled across the blanket and landed on the floor out of sight.

  He turned around and stepped back out into the living area. Sadie was at the table, her head down, scratching Patch behind the ears.

  “I’m sorry,” Cass said. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  Sadie shrugged. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t always be so full of sass.” She sniffed and swiped at a tear.

  “Please forgive me. You did nothing wrong. It’s just this heat and—” He shook his head.

  “‘Course I forgive you. Whatever it is, though, I hope it gets mended.”

  He shrugged. Not likely. How could he stop thinking about Juliana when he had to see her several times a week? He avoided looking at Ma as he reached over and ran his palm across Patch’s smooth coat. “I think I’m going to spend some time in my room. The heat’s wrung me out. If I don’t come to the table for supper, don’t worry about me. I’m not really hungry, anyway.”

  Back on the other side of the curtain, he retrieved his hat from the floor and set it on the chair in the corner. Next, he raised the windows as far as they would go. Finally, he took his shirt off and sprawled across the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Not thinking about Juliana.