by Delia Parr
Waving off their attempts to apologize for ignoring her, Martha led the girls away, and the others followed along behind them. She entered the confectionery with the girls by way of the front door, but she sent the others around to the back. Relieved to find the shop empty, she took Lucy and Hannah directly to the room on the left, where Fern and Ivy had displayed the cookies they had made earlier that day, and decided to make her first act as a grandmother a memorable one.
Lucy was just tall enough to be able to see cookies displayed on the tabletop, but Martha had to hoist Hannah up on her hip to give the smaller girl the same advantage. “There’s a custom here in Trinity that both of you should know about before you choose your cookies. You might not be old enough to understand the tradition completely, but for now, you should know that the girls and the women who live here in Trinity get together on very special occasions to celebrate how important it is to love one another and to help one another whenever we have a problem. And when we’re all together during a snowstorm, too!”
The memory of the women who had gathered together last winter, right here in this confectionery, to start this tradition while they hatched a plan to help young Nancy Clifford escape her abusive husband, warmed her heart yet again before she continued. “When we do get together, we celebrate by eating sweets instead of our dinner. Does that sound like something you’d like to do with me today? To have cookies for your dinner?”
Lucy grinned. “Yes!”
“Yes!” Hannah echoed.
“Then let’s pick out your cookies and take them with us to the kitchen,” Martha suggested and helped them each choose two cookies. Lucy wanted two of the sugar cookies, while Hannah preferred the molasses. Martha helped herself to several of each before she took them back to the others. “After we go to the kitchen, I want you to meet a little friend of mine,” she said, certain the girls would be fascinated with Bird.
Everyone was here now, standing around babbling, but this time it was Comfort who was truly the center of attention. At least, she was the focus until Martha entered the room with those two darling girls.
Before they all surged forward, she held up her hand and stopped them cold. “My granddaughters and I are dining upstairs in my room, but there’s no need to send up dinner. The three of us are going to follow a very important tradition today, which means we’ve got our dinners right here in our hands. I’ll bring the girls down afterwards and give you all a chance to meet them.”
Fern and Ivy covered their mouths with their hands but failed to smother their chuckles. Jane and Cassie wore expressions of total surprise, while Victoria and Oliver merely grinned and shook their heads. Martha, however, waited to see the most important reaction of all—from Comfort.
Her new daughter-in-law looked down at the cookies they were carrying and let out a very long breath that made Martha’s heart beat just a little faster while she waited for the woman to comment.
“Traditions are very important,” Comfort finally offered. “After eating their cookies, I think the girls will be very thirsty, so I’ll bring up some milk for them. May I bring you something to drink as well, Mother Cade?”
Martha smiled. “A glass of milk for me too would be nice,” she replied and took the girls upstairs, satisfied for now that God had indeed led her son to choose a wise and good woman for his wife.
When Martha woke up, the girls were still asleep, nestled on either side of her, and the sunshine filtering into the room hinted that it was rather late in the afternoon. She closed her eyes again, just for a moment, to savor the feel of their little bodies curved against her own and the smell of their cookie breath while they slept on.
As far as she was concerned, there was nothing on this earth that could compare to having a child to cuddle up with for an afternoon nap, but having two grandchildren beside her felt like sheer heaven. She looked over and saw that Bird was still in his cage, taking a nap, too, and she chuckled. The girls had gotten more cookie crumbs on the floor than they’d managed to slip into the cage, and Bird had wisely decided it was safer to stay in the cage when there were two giggling little girls in the room who wanted nothing more than to take turns cuddling the little bird, a request Martha had refused for fear they might accidentally crush him.
Reluctant to disturb the girls, she eased very gently from her cot to answer a soft rap at her door.
Comfort peeked in, looked at the girls, and smiled. “I was hoping they’d take a rest. After a rather arduous journey, this has been an eventful day for all of us. May I come in? I’m certain you’re curious, and I’d like to tell you a bit about myself and answer questions you must have.”
“Perhaps we should talk somewhere else so we don’t wake the girls,” Martha suggested, even though there was little privacy to be found anywhere else in the confectionery.
Comfort chuckled and slipped into the room. “Those two girls sleep through heavy storms and thunder. I doubt a little conversation will disturb them,” she countered, although she did keep her voice a little softer than usual.
When she sat down on top of the trunk at the foot of Martha’s cot, Martha took a place at the end of the cot to be next to her. Before she could decide which question to ask about Comfort and the circumstances that had led to her marriage to Oliver, the young woman poured out her tale.
“I’m nine years older than Oliver, which I’m sure you noticed,” she began, glancing down for a moment. “When I was twenty-four, I married a man named Jack Whitman who was a store clerk in the city. We were married for six years, but he’d struggled with periods of time when he was very depressed for many years before that. When Hannah was only a few days old, he . . . he committed suicide.”
Martha clapped her hand to her heart. “Oh dear!”
Comfort smoothed one of the folds in her skirt. “I don’t know how I could have prevented my husband from killing himself, but I blamed myself for a very long time before I was finally able to ask God to forgive me for anything that I did or failed to do to help him.”
Martha’s heart ached for the woman, and she placed her hand on her shoulder. “How very difficult for you.”
“It was very hard,” Comfort admitted. “As you might imagine, the girls and I were in rather desperate circumstances. I was thirty years old, a widow with two very young children, with few ideas of how I might support us all,” she admitted.
“What about your parents? Couldn’t you return home to live with them or another relative, perhaps?”
Comfort folded her hands together on her lap. “I was just about Hannah’s age when I was placed in an orphanage, so I don’t have any memories of my parents, and I just assume I don’t have any relatives, at least any who would take me in. I was put out to service when I was twelve, trained mostly to do laundry and mending and such, and I served in half a dozen households before I came of age. Fortunately, I was able to stay on in the last household until I finally got married and made my home with my husband and, eventually, our children.”
Moved by Comfort’s tale of a difficult childhood and her very painful experiences as a young wife and mother, Martha also wondered how Oliver had come into her life. “After your husband died, how did you survive? What did you do to support yourself and your daughters?”
Comfort tilted up her chin. “It isn’t possible to maintain a household and support two children on the wages I could earn doing menial work. The little talent I do have is with the needle, which is something I learned from watching the daughters of some of my employers. The wages paid for needlework would have been better, but there wasn’t a seamstress in the entire city of Boston who would hire me without references for that kind of work, even though I carried samples of my work with me everywhere. Even if one had, providing board for me and my daughters would have been out of the question.”
Reminded of her own dependence on others after John died and her own inability to maintain a home of her own, even now when she had Aunt Hilda’s cottage to call her own, Martha’s heart t
rembled. “Without family, a widow’s lot is never, never easy,” she said, grateful that God had surrounded her with family and friends.
“Not without divine intervention,” Comfort offered with a smile. “We were only days from being forced to find a place at the poorhouse when I met Mrs. Callahan. When she took a bad fall outside the room where we lived, I helped her to get back home again in a section of the city I knew very little about. As it turned out, she and her husband worked for Oliver’s grandfather. They had lived in a one-room cabin in the rear of his estate for many years, and they still do, bless their hearts.”
Comfort paused to smile. “As I came to learn later, there’s only one woman who’s ever had the courage to stand up to Graham Cade, and that’s Evelyn Callahan. She convinced him that her eyesight was failing and that she was no longer able to properly mend clothing or household linens and such. She told him she would have to retire as his primary housekeeper unless he hired me to take on those duties and set aside part of the garret for me and my girls to live there.”
Martha chuckled and looked down at the girls to make sure they were still sleeping. “He could be a very difficult man when he chose to be,” she admitted, without confessing that he had intimidated her, too, and preferred to think she did not exist.
Comfort also looked down at her sleeping girls. “Obviously, that’s how I met Oliver.”
“As part of the household staff.”
“Exactly,” Comfort replied, and her eyes took on a dreamy look. “I found him disturbingly handsome and quite the kindest and gentlest man I had ever known, but he was so far above my station and so busy with his work that it never occurred to me that he would . . . that he would ever be genuinely interested in someone like me. He was Graham Cade’s grandson and heir, too, which made him one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Fortunately, none of the young ladies who pursued him, or their status-seeking mothers who encouraged them, had any idea that two little girls whose mother mended Oliver’s clothes would win his heart before any of them did. Or before I did,” she added.
Martha cocked a brow. “I can’t imagine that Oliver’s grandfather approved of the match, did he?”
“Mercy, no! Had he gotten so much as an inkling that Oliver had any feelings for me at all or that I came to return that affection, I would have been dismissed immediately. Not even Mrs. Callahan would have been able to save me.”
“God rest his soul, that sounds like the Graham Cade that I knew,” Martha admitted, “but when all is said and done, he provided Oliver with a good home, trained him to excel in his profession, and provided well for both of his grandchildren. For that, I’ll forever be grateful.”
“And I’m grateful, as well,” Comfort said. “If he hadn’t let me come to work in his household, I’d never have met Oliver.” She locked her gaze with Martha’s. “I love him with all of my heart. It’s dreadfully important to me that you’ll be able to welcome me and my daughters into your family and your heart, too, but it means even more to Oliver. He wants so much for you to accept our marriage, and if there’s anything I can do or—”
“Dear, dear girl,” Martha crooned and put her arm around the young woman. “It’s obvious to me that Oliver has chosen well, and although it’s been a bit of a shock, your marriage pleases me. I suspect Victoria is more than overjoyed to have you as a sister, too,” she reassured her and pointed to the embroidery on her collar that featured a trailing vine of flowers. “Did you stitch this design?”
“It’s one of my favorites. I never could afford to buy expensive fabric for our clothes, but a bit of dye and a simple decoration tends to draw attention away from the fact that the fabric is ordinary muslin.”
“There’s nothing simple about that decoration, and your skill with the needle far exceeds mine,” Martha argued. “My mother, Oliver’s grandmother, was quite talented in that regard, which is a story I should keep for another day,” she suggested when Lucy sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Thank you,” Comfort whispered. She immediately rose to tend to Lucy but glanced back at Martha. “You’ve been cooped up in this room all afternoon. I’ll stay here with the girls. Why don’t you go have a visit with Oliver? Victoria left with him a good while ago to introduce him to Dr. McMillan. They should still be at his house.” She grinned. “Before they left, Victoria was trying to make all sorts of plans, including where the four of us might stay during our visit, and by now, I suspect he’d be grateful if you could rescue him.”
“I can try,” Martha replied before heading downstairs. In all the excitement today, she had not even thought about where Oliver and his new family would stay while they were here. But while she literally had the key to resolving that problem, she had no doubt that one of the plans her daughter was trying to make involved her entire family—which now included three generations—a certain anxious doctor, a minister, and a date on the calendar that was definitely not in December.
23
Martha! I was just coming to see you!”
Just moments after Martha stepped out from the covered bridge and onto sunny East Main Street on her way to rescue Oliver, Anne Sweet’s words sent a shiver of dismay down the length of her spine. She paused and plastered a smile on her face before turning around, and she prayed that Anne’s mission was inspired by gossip, which would be typical, rather than an illness at her house or Thomas’s, which would call Martha to duty.
Huffing and puffing her way down the cindered street, Anne hurried her way to Martha and put a hand to her heart as she caught her breath. “Mercy! The heat today is rather awful.”
Martha chuckled. “It’s always hot in July.”
“I was at the general store earlier when I noticed a stranger with two little ones in tow,” Anne began. After describing how she had discovered that Oliver had married a widow some years his senior with two young girls, she finally paused to take a breath. “That’s quite a lot of responsibility for a young man like Oliver to assume, which must trouble you some.”
“I’m just thrilled that he’s here and with such good news,” Martha insisted, refusing to take the bait Anne offered. Her heart soared when she saw Thomas come out of Dr. McMillan’s and rush toward them.
“Anne? I believe you’re needed back home,” he said, taking the last of several long strides to join them.
“And I thought I might have a few moments to myself,” Anne grumbled. The moment she hurried off, Thomas took Martha’s arm and whisked her over to his buggy, which he had left parked at Dr. McMillan’s house.
“As much as I would enjoy spending time with you, Thomas, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m on my way to meet with Oliver and Victoria. He just arrived today, and they’re waiting for me at Dr. McMillan’s,” Martha said.
“They’re not there, which means you have a few moments to spend with me. How’s Samuel doing?”
“Fine, and don’t change the subject. How do you know where they are?”
“Because Rosalind told me a few minutes ago when I returned to give Dr. McMillan some documents to look over. The doctor had just left with Victoria and Oliver. Although Rosalind was a little vague about where they all went, she said they had something they needed to do and expected to be gone for at least an hour or so. They’ll meet up with you back at the confectionery, which means you have at least an hour to spend with me. Now, let me help you up to the seat. Please.”
Thoroughly disappointed that her children had not included her in their plans, she let him.
“It seems a little odd that you’d take your buggy to Dr. McMillan’s.”
He joined her on the seat and clicked the reins. “Actually, I only stopped by Dr. McMillan’s on my way to the confectionery. I was going to invite you to take a ride with me to check on my cabin at Candle Lake, but after I heard Oliver was back in Trinity for a visit, I knew you’d want to spend time with your family. Then when Rosalind told me they’d all gone off somewhere together, I decided to rescue you from my sister.”
She g
ave him a cockeyed smile. “I see the heat hasn’t taken a toll on your confidence.”
“Not at all, especially since you’re sitting here with me instead of standing around being pestered by my sister’s babble,” he teased and drove them down past the workers creating the new canal toward the far end of Dillon’s Stream, which remained untouched.
“I don’t want to go too far, and I don’t want to lose sight of town, just in case they get back earlier than they thought,” she cautioned.
“That’s precisely why I’m stopping right about here,” he assured her and parked the buggy in such a way that they had a good view of both the town and the canal, but still a bit of privacy. “First, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he suggested and took her hand. “You’re pleased with Oliver’s news, I assume?”
“Very much so. They haven’t said anything about their plans yet, but I suspect they won’t be here for more than a week or so. I’d like to spend as much time with them as I can; I hope you’ll understand.”
“I don’t have any intention of intruding on your time with them, but there are matters we need to discuss, and I couldn’t let this opportunity pass by.” He handed her a thick package wrapped in brown paper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news from your friend when I wrote to you, but at least I was able to secure all of the remedies on your list.”
She laid the package on her lap and wrapped both her hands around it. “Thank you. Is there an accounting inside so I know how much I owe you?”
“There is, but rather than argue the point that I don’t need your coin, I’d rather spend what time I do have with you doing something I can control.”
