The Jewel of His Heart

by Maggie Brendan

  Louise grabbed her arms and pulled. “Come, my dear friend, let’s get you upstairs, cleaned up, and into comfortable clothes, and you can rest better in your bed. Natalie will make us some tea, won’t you, dear?”

  “Certainly. You get freshened up, and I’ll bring it right up.”

  Miss Margaret moved aside as Louise led Juliana upstairs. “I’ll be up directly, dear.”

  Juliana paused on the landing, “You’ll let me know when Josh returns?”

  “As fast as a jackrabbit hops!”

  It would be a long afternoon to face without Josh, Juliana thought. She needed his strength and his arms around her holding her tight like he had earlier.

  Josh returned within the hour, and when Juliana came back downstairs, her hair was brushed and pulled back, and she wore a clean dress. “The service will be tomorrow afternoon. You need to let Reverend Carlson know what you’d like him to say at the gravesite. We assumed that since few knew your father, you would want a simple service. Is that right?” She looked exhausted and somber, but lovelier than ever to Josh.

  “Yes, you’re right. No one here knew my father.” She paused. “Not even me, but I do want him to have a proper burial. My mother would want him to be buried next to her.”

  He took her small hand in his larger one. “I’m very sorry you had to hear those confessions, but you must respect your father for that at least.” Josh waited for her reaction, but she merely turned and stared out the window. He sensed that deep in her heart the “okay” she’d said to Davin was forgiveness, but he also sensed the struggle she was having. “He did love you, after all.”

  Juliana whirled around. “Then why, Josh, why did he have to stay away? He knew we needed him. How could he do that to us? How? Tell me!”

  He pulled her to him, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Jewel,” he whispered, “I really don’t have the answer to your questions. We may never know more than what he told you, but one thing he said registered with me. He’d made peace with his Maker. You will see him again, just as you’ll see your mother.” Josh stroked her dark hair and inhaled the sweet lavender soap smell.

  “I pray you’re right,” she said. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “I have something for you to take to the service tomorrow.” Josh rose, picked up a package he had placed on the piano earlier, and handed it to her.

  “Josh, what’s this?” Juliana untied the string around the brown paper wrapping and drew in her breath. “My very own Bible! Josh, you shouldn’t have,” she said with genuine surprise. She leaned over to touch his face, drawing her hand down to his cheek, then briefly touched her lips to his. “Thank you,” she said softly as big tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Josh wanted to kiss the tears from her eyes but instead gently wiped them aside with his thumb. His hands shook. Her unexpected kiss had sent a jolt of lightning through him. “Nothing’s too good for my Jewel.” He wanted to tell her he would spend his life trying to give her everything her heart desired if she would only be his wife, but he knew this was not the time to talk about that. Not when she was hurting so much. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve marked a few verses for you that are some of my favorites. Maybe someday we can have your name engraved on the front.”

  Juliana opened it to the dedication page that read, To Jewel, with love, Josh McBride. “I will cherish this, Josh.” Juliana clasped the Bible to her chest. “I’ve never had my own Bible. I can’t thank you enough.” Juliana’s eyes burned with affection, and she leaned over to hug him again.

  Miss Margaret walked in, and they pulled apart. “I hope you’re feeling somewhat better, Juliana. I’ve prepared a light supper for us all, with Natalie and Louise’s help. Cynthia is off today. I’m sure you haven’t eaten a thing all day.”

  “Oh, Miss Margaret, I can’t impose,” Josh said with a serious look. “I’ll just be heading back home now, but I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be silly, Josh. You’ll eat and then you can leave. Right, Juliana?”

  “Right.” Juliana hooked her arm through his and looked at him through red-rimmed eyes.

  “How can I argue with two pretty ladies?” Josh asked.

  Miss Margaret tapped her cane on the hardwood floor and scoffed at him. “Exactly my point!” She led the way to the dining room.

  33

  Josh left after promising he’d be at the funeral. They agreed that Juliana would go with Miss Margaret, and he and Andy would meet them at the gravesite. Juliana stood on the front porch, watching him leave. When Josh turned in his saddle to wave, she knew she could not live without this powerful but sensitive man in her life.

  “Juliana.” Miss Margaret came and stood with her on the porch. “We need to go complete the details of the funeral. I have a suit of my late husband’s, if you think that would be appropriate for your father to be buried in.”

  Juliana swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you. Yes, that would be perfect and so thoughtful of you. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll go fetch it. Then we’ll go together and finish with the funeral arrangements. I’ve sent Louise over to inform Albert of the situation. He and Sally would want to know. They’ve grown very fond of you. I’m sure he’ll want a story about this terrible tragedy.”

  Juliana’s heart froze. Would he tell everything he knew about her father? How awful that would be. “This is one article I cannot write, Miss Margaret.”

  “I understand, dear. Leave it to Albert. While he would never want to hurt you, the truth must come out, however embarrassing. Still, I’m sure he will be discreet in his story,” Miss Margaret assured her. “You just hold your head up high.” Miss Margaret gave her a swift embrace.

  Juliana was so glad she had moved out of the hotel. Was Miss Margaret yet another gift from God, proving He would watch over her? Maybe so. “I hope you’re right,” she said, returning Miss Margaret’s hug. “Before we leave, remind me to show you the Bible Josh gave me.”

  The complete quiet that night weighed heavily on Juliana, and she tossed and turned. Between crying and visions of her own father dying in her arms, sleep was out of the question. She cried for what could have been, and she cried for her mother.

  She got up and padded in bare feet over to her window that looked out on Main Street. The street was deserted and bathed in pale light from the moon, which peeked timorously from behind slow-moving clouds threatening a late spring rain. She hoped it wouldn’t rain. It would be sad enough without a rainy funeral.

  This all seemed a dreadful dream that she would soon awaken from. There were so many unanswered questions. Perhaps Josh was right—she would never have all the answers.

  A light tap sounded on her bedroom door, startling her. “It’s me, dear.” Miss Margaret’s voice was low. “May I come in?”

  Juliana opened the door. Miss Margaret and Louise stood in their robes next to a tea cart that held a tea cozy over a china pot and a teacup. “How did you know I was still up?”

  “I figured as much. I could hear you stirring around. Sleep is hard to come by with so much on your mind, dear. I brought you some chamomile tea. You can go on to bed now, Louise. I want to talk to Juliana. Thanks for your assistance with the tea cart.”

  “I hope you can sleep, Juliana. Good night.” Louise stifled a yawn, then scooted toward her bedroom.

  Juliana opened the door for Miss Margaret to pass through. Miss Margaret rolled the tea cart into the room and uncovered a beautiful Blue Willow teapot from its cozy. The familiar scent of liniment that she used on her joints lingered on the air when she walked past Juliana.

  Miss Margaret poured the tea, then held the cup out to her. “This will help you sleep.”

  “Thank you. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. You’re so sweet to me, and so are Natalie and Louise. Why, Natalie even loaned me a black dress for tomorrow, while Louise ran a bath for me tonight. I’m feeling so pampered.”

 
; “Well, then we are accomplishing what we set out to do. This is the time when we should help out a wounded sister in Christ who’s feeling overwhelmed. It’s our privilege to comfort you, just as we benefited in our time of need. Now, drink up.”

  Juliana and Miss Margaret sat on her bed, and she sipped her tea under Margaret’s watchful eye. “Miss Margaret, what do you know about heaven?”

  Miss Margaret rubbed her arthritic hands together. “I know there is one. Scripture reminds us in 2 Corinthians that when Christians are absent from the body, we are present with the Lord. That gives us hope that we will see our loved ones in heaven, if they were believers.”

  “Would you please show me where that is in my Bible?” Juliana asked. She lifted her Bible from her bedside table and handed it to Miss Margaret.

  “Certainly,” Miss Margaret said, taking the book and flipping it open to the passage. “Ah, here it is. I’ll place your ribbon marker right there. Was your father a believer?”

  “Yes, he was, though he got sidetracked from the truth or he wouldn’t have committed such crimes. We attended church as a family before he left for the gold fields.” Juliana didn’t mean to sound so angry. “He told me and Josh that he had made peace with his Maker.”

  “Then that means he asked for forgiveness, and you have to take him at his word. But what about you? Did he ask for yours?”

  Hot tears fell again, and it was hard for Juliana to see. “He did, and I finally just said, ‘It’s okay,’ but now that sounds feeble. I wished I could have said the actual words, ‘I forgive you,’ but I just couldn’t do it.” She hiccupped.

  Miss Margaret handed her a fresh handkerchief from the bedside table. “Don’t fret, Juliana. Your father knew the hurt he’d caused you, and he understood. It took a lot for him to make such a confession. But in time, you must truly seek to forgive genuinely in your heart in order to heal.”

  Juliana blew her raw nose. “I’ll try, I promise,” she said, her breathing ragged.

  “That’s my girl. Now, I’ll leave you to finish your tea. It will help you sleep so you’ll be rested. Since tomorrow is Sunday, I think it would be all right if you just slept a little late, if you can. I’ll be here, and Natalie and Louise will go to church. That way I can get things ready for after the service. I’m sure you will have people come by to pay their respects.”

  Juliana touched Miss Margaret’s hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without your constant support. You’re such a blessing to me.”

  The old lady’s gray eyes twinkled with a tear or two, and she patted Juliana’s face. “‘Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’”

  Juliana followed her to the door. “Is that one of your quotes, Miss Margaret, or is that from Scripture too? It’s so beautiful.”

  “Psalm 30:5. Good night, dear one.”

  Juliana marveled at Miss Margaret’s wisdom and kindness. She listened to the tapping of Miss Margaret’s cane down the hallway until the sound faded away.

  Morning dawned with gray, low-hanging clouds, obliterating the mountain peaks, so there was no sun to wake Juliana. She trudged to the window, pulling aside the drapes. The gray day matched her mood, and on the street below, people dressed in their Sunday clothes were walking the few blocks back from church. That meant she’d slept late. The church bells pealed, tolling the hour. Where was the joy Miss Margaret had talked about?

  Last night she had flipped through the soft leather Bible, and two of the passages Josh had marked were in the book of John: “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep,” and, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” Such an appropriate passage for a sheepherder to identify with, but she knew he’d underlined it for her benefit too. God would have to work a miracle in her heart for it to mend. When her brain couldn’t think anymore, she had finally slept.

  Now, as she descended the stairs, delicious smells wafted upward, and though she couldn’t believe it, her stomach growled. Miss Margaret met her at the bottom of the stairs, crooking her arm around Juliana’s. “Did you eventually sleep?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. Not well, though.” Juliana knew from her reflection in the mirror that her eyes were swollen and had circles under them. How could a person look so tired from simply crying? Miss Margaret pulled her to the kitchen. “Pour yourself some tea or coffee, and I’ll just finish the pound cake I’m putting together. You’ll look and feel better once you have a little to eat.”

  The hot coffee tasted delicious, and Juliana nibbled on some toast and bacon, watching Miss Margaret blend flour, sugar, and butter together.

  “Can you cook, Juliana?” Miss Margaret asked, folding beaten eggs into the mixture.

  Juliana shook her head. “A little, but I’ve only cooked simple things.” She thought back to life with her mother when money was limited to the necessities of nutrition. So much had changed, she mused. One thing was certain and clear to her now after these last several months—life was about change, constant change.

  Miss Margaret poured the batter into a long loaf pan and slid it into the oven, then turned to her and grinned. “Well, from the size of Josh’s muscles, you’ll have to learn a whole lot more to be able to feed him!”

  Juliana almost smiled. “Miss Margaret, we’re only just now courting, you know.”

  “If what I saw yesterday was any indication of his feelings, I’d say you’re closer to engagement than you think. He’s a fine man, you know.” Miss Margaret wiped her hands on her apron.

  Juliana felt her face grow pink. “Yes, I do know. Is there anything I can help you do before we go to the”—her voice quivered—“the cemetery?”

  Miss Margaret looked at her watch pinned to her apron. “Goodness! The time is flying. I need to get changed. Everything’s ready, but if you’ll just watch the pound cake, that would help.”

  “I’ll sit right here and watch,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. Miss Margaret hesitated. Juliana nudged her back. “Shoo, now. Go change your dress. I won’t let the cake burn.”

  By the time they were ready to leave, the rain was coming down hard. “It looks like we won’t be walking to the church cemetery. We’ll have to take the buggy to keep from drowning,” Miss Margaret told the girls. She groaned. “Where’s a man when you need one? Natalie, you and Louise go hitch the team to the buggy and bring it around front. We’ll wait for you on the porch.” She pulled a black umbrella from the metal stand next to the door.

  Natalie rolled her eyes, but Louise shoved her down the hallway to the back door toward the barn.

  “At least the carriage has a cover. Perhaps the rain will slack up on our way,” Miss Margaret mused.

  Soon the carriage came into view. With a heavy heart, Juliana took the offered umbrella from Miss Margaret and popped it open. Soon this would all be over. She wanted to put this whole nightmare behind her. She clutched the Bible to her chest and assisted Miss Margaret down the sidewalk to the waiting carriage.

  Though the afternoon was warm, the dampness sent a chill through Juliana. Her nerves were on edge as Louise guided the horses through the muddy streets of Lewistown. Would the townsfolk blame her because of her father? In the background, she could hear Natalie chattering on about the art fund-raiser that would be held soon, but Juliana paid no mind to most of what she said.

  Abruptly, the carriage came to a halt, jolting Juliana back to the present.

  “Oh no, looks like we’re stuck in a mud hole!” Louise said, peering over the side of the carriage where the wheel was sunk into the muck.

  “We can walk the rest of the way,” Juliana said.

  “No, you’ll have half the mud in the county on the hem of your dress,” Louise grumbled.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Juliana responded, standing up. “We can get out and push, and you can pull on the horses’ harnesses.”

  “Mother, you just sit right there, no need for you get out to help. I’m sure that between me and Juliana we can pull the wheel
out,” Natalie said.

  It was still raining, but not nearly as hard as earlier, which was a good thing. Natalie went to the rear of the carriage while Juliana took position near the front wheel, sinking into mud up to her ankles. When everyone was in place, Natalie yelled, “Louise, you pull as Juliana and I push!”

  They heaved, pushed, and groaned, but nothing happened. They tried again, and they not only got tired, but without umbrellas they were a sorry-looking bunch, with wet, matted hair and soggy hems dragging in the mud. The horses simply refused to move.

  “You ladies need some help here?” Wes traipsed through the mud over to the carriage. His tall, lanky body didn’t seem strong enough to move a bale of hay, from what Juliana could tell.

  Juliana shot him a hard look. “We don’t need your help.”

  “Oh yes we do, Wes.” Natalie blinked, frowning. “We can’t make the horses budge.”

  Wes stepped up to where Louise was holding the harness. Reaching up, he patted one of the horse’s necks and whispered something in his ear. He talked soothingly, but Juliana couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  He turned back to the winded ladies. “Okay, on the count of three, I want you to give a slight push,” he ordered, grasping the harness. “One, two, three.” The ladies pushed against the wheels while Wes yanked on the harness, and unexpectedly the horses sprang forward, jerking the wheel from its muddy grip.

  Miss Margaret looked on from her seat and clapped. “You did it.”

  “Thank you. It’s apparent you have a way with horses,” Louise said.

  Wes tipped his hat. “Anytime a lady is in distress, I’m more than happy to offer my expertise.”

  “Yes, and even if the lady is not in distress,” Juliana muttered under her breath.

  Wes swaggered over to assist Louise and Natalie back into the carriage. “I can’t thank you enough for your help,” Miss Margaret said.