Sanctuary

by Alene Adele Roy

  “I do trust you,” she replied, above a whipping wind which was tearing at their blanket. She was frightened now. It was apparent on her face. Yet, she wasn’t about to let him know that. “Drive on, my fearless driver!” she called, laughing, while hoping to ease his mind just a little. “I’m with you, remember? I’m going where you’re going, and this does appear to be a better solution to our problem,” she added.

  He gave his sweetest, most endearing smile in agreement.

  Drawing a deep breath, she relaxed a little, although it was really too soon for such. Actually, she felt quite safe with this man, secure in the fact that he’d protect her, now and in the future, no matter what, on any occasion. “By and by, we’ll see if this works, and at least I’ll have something exciting to write home about, John!”

  He stopped the team precisely where he said he would, took one of her hands in his and patted it. “Indeed, you will have much to write home about, by and by, my sweet Rachael,” he reported with a chuckle, not divulging exactly what he meant. There, they waited.

  Meanwhile, the arriving guests at his home at Magnolia Gardens had been warmly greeted by his congenial staff. Miss Callie, Crane, and Miss Mariah certainly knew just how to make others feel right at home. The cook and maid had taken the picnic food and pies made by Emma and Phoebe to the kitchen, along with theirs, to prepare the food for serving, since it was approaching an early dinner hour.

  In the library, Crane assured the others that Dr. Davis would be along shortly, and not to worry. He served them tea and wafers, or water for those who preferred it, and made great conversation with the group, including the children. Playing the perfect host, he had the little ones laughing in no time at the comical antics of his carefully-crafted hand puppets.

  “We’ll have a delicious supper soon, I guarantee you,” he called, raising his hand to wave Mr. Funny Guy Puppet, perched atop his right hand, in the air, as if the puppet was actually speaking from one corner of the dining room. The three children laughed happily at this. Next, he diverted their attention to their soft Easter toys by pointing to them with his other hand containing Miss Handkerchief Lady, which made the three toddlers grab their toys and laugh with joy. He easily entertained the group in a miniature play of sorts. Talking and pretending his hands were alive, he had Mr. Puppet speaking with Miss Lady in an animated conversation. Then, he chuckled heartily as Lily, Minnie, and Quinny took turns peeking under the hanky and puppet to see just what was there, while the curious resident housecat, Hope, cautiously crept closer to join them.

  “He should be in the theater, shouldn’t he?” whispered the pastor, smiling.

  “Yes. He is a natural at entertaining,” Emma added.

  “He is amusing us adults, as well, in fine fashion, I might add,” Monty Graham declared. “You might consider doing a traveling show, Crane.” He was quite serious with his compliments.

  “I wouldn’t want to,” Crane laughed, continuing his antics.

  “I wish I could hold the interest of little ones at church like you do. But truthfully, I’m having fun watching you. Now, if I could only make puppets or draw paper animals for the children, I’d be happy,” Pastor Hoover lamented.

  “But as far as us worrying about John, I’d bet he has everything under control, even in this storm,” Monty related, chuckling a little as he shook his head at the theatrical performance taking place in the cozy room. “He can pretty well take care of himself and others, in most cases, or in just about any storm,” the handsome lieutenant informed them, complimenting his close friend. Still, he hated to admit it, but he was worried.

  “That brother has seen some tough times,” remarked his cousin, who sat down on the settee next to Mrs. Worthington.

  “Yet, even in Army Hospital he made new friends and was always encouraging others,” Monty added.

  “He is very good at that. He’s generally the center of the party, usually.” Emery Davis added compliments to the complimentary discussion, before handing Mrs. Worthington a glass of water from the table before them.

  “It is great to have him home again,” she told their friends and the visiting Phoebe Hathaway. “This way we won’t have to worry about him any longer.”

  “Yes, and I’ve noticed that he’s well-liked in the community, as well.” Emma Hoover grew serious for a moment, as she reflected on their long-time friendship with John and his former wife. “They were always helping others.”

  “The toughest, of course, is the loss of Rose,” Pastor Hoover confided, while thinking of her, too and watching his twins play with Lily. “Loss like that you can never prepare for, but he is coping well.”

  “She was a dear,” Emma added. “Now, please excuse me. I’m going to help shell peas.” Yet, she was actually holding back tears of grief.

  “Hey, Emma, bring them here. I’ll help shell,” Cousin Emery suggested, and soon a lively pea-shelling session was underway in the library, with everyone promising to catch every last pea, so John wouldn’t have some sprouting under his desk this spring.

  “I wonder what path his life will take now. A change certainly is imminent,” Crane remarked, taking a break from his impromptu performance. “Whatever it is, I’ll be there with him.”

  Lieutenant Graham nodded in agreement. “I will, too, Crane. He’s a great guy. I still see him in the medical field in the future, after some rest, that is.”

  At that point, Lily hurried over to him to show off her new dolly. “You have a pretty baby there,” the lieutenant told her, as he knelt beside her. They got along well. In fact, he was one of her godfathers and he loved her dearly, especially watching her grow. Everyone could tell that. Actually, she had two, for Cousin Emery Davis had been asked to be a godfather, as well. Emma Hoover was her godmother.

  “His wound’s not healed, yet, though,” Crane began, with a look of genuine concern upon his face. “He took us in some years ago, and he’s been a fine father figure, although, now that we’re older, he’s more like a big brother to me,” he confided, in a rare show of his feelings to others. “He’s taught me.”

  “That’s great,” Albert Hoover exclaimed in admiration.

  “I shouldn’t say this, but he pays us well, too.” The butler was not afraid to admit it to this group, further exemplifying John’s good character.

  “These things take time, his wound, I mean,” specified Dr. Graham, changing the subject. “It could actually take up to a year for John’s wound to heal properly, especially if he has bruised the bone, and since he’s always using that limb.”

  “Yes, the bone could be bruised. I hadn’t thought about that, Monty,” the pastor surmised out loud.

  “I shall check on it often,” the lieutenant proposed, trying to reassure Crane and the circle of friends. “You know, he’s like a magnet, drawing folks to him. I’m one of them,” he laughed.”

  “Yes,” agreed his cousin. “I’m close to John, too. We had some high times growing up so close to each other in proximity. We’d go out with our candles at night, blow them out, and study the stars.”

  “I actually did not know that he was injured,” Phoebe Hathaway told the others. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Well, your sister probably didn’t write to you about it because she didn’t fully understand the serious nature of it,” Pastor Hoover advised. Then he added, “None of us really did, actually, except, probably, Monty and Buddy.”

  Emma had a new concern. “I’m worried about John and Rachael, currently, being caught out in this thunderstorm. There’s dangerous lightning out there.”

  “Perhaps we should go search for them,” her husband suggested.

  “Let’s give them a few more minutes. They may have had things to discuss,” Monty Graham suggested, with only the slightest hint of a grin on his handsome face, for he surmised that the pair was, indeed, beginning a courtship.

  Only
Pastor Hoover returned his smile. The ladies were too concerned to do so, because hailstones now beat against the windowpane, bouncing, downing some of the taller flowers outside in the flowerbeds. Wind gusts whipped others, carrying petals high into the sky on air currents, for the weather was very unsettled.

  “It’s a typical spring day in these parts,” Pastor Hoover told the others, just in case Lieutenant Graham and Miss Phoebe Hathaway did not already know that. “It’ll pass soon, though, I’m sure. I’m just glad our parade and egg hunt were graced with such fine weather today.”

  “I am, too.” Miss Mariah had heard the latter part of this conversation as she entered. The young maid now gently took Phoebe’s arm and giggled, trying to lighten the mood. “Shall we?” she asked, pointing toward the hallway. Together, they hurried from the room into the foyer. When the housekeeper briefly opened the front door to check the weather conditions, they saw the wind bring rain sideways.

  “Let’s not go out there!” she laughed, trying to put their newest guest at ease, while she gingerly pushed the large front door shut. When the two women returned to the group, they found that the men had gone to grain and water John’s livestock and also put their own carriage horses into the barn for safety, temporarily. Soon, they returned, drenched. They removed their wet hats and cloaks and were given towels for drying by Miss Callie. Laughing, they began to discuss the weather, livestock, crops, and railroads, while the ladies watched the twins and Lily play dolls and balls, and spoke of everything from cooking, to sewing, embroidery, tatting, quilting, candle dipping, and churning butter.

  “John was telling me that it was around 1776 that iron rails first replaced the wooden ones in merry Olde England,” informed the pastor. “Of course, that was long before our time, but perhaps some of our ancestors were there.”

  “That’s interesting.” Monty agreed, as he, Albert, Charles, and Emery enjoyed heated apple cider, which was brought to warm them before dinner, by Crane and Miss Callie. “It’s just amazing the changes that can occur within a century, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Albert leaned toward the men. “That reminds me that I do hope to get a wooden toy train set whittled for Quinn before Christmas,” he told the menfolk in a whisper. “It’s coming along nicely and I’ve already finished the dolls for our two young lassies over there. Emma is dressing them, and also making the girls dresses to match their doll dresses, with her fine needlework, and a matching shirt for Quinn.” He complimented his wife, noticing that she was busy kissing each of the laughing children.

  Miss Callie studied the situation from a comfortable arm chair near the fire. As she surveyed the group, she saw concern etched upon the faces of the two women guests, plus Miss Mariah. It wasn’t like Dr. Davis to be gone this long, especially when he had guests waiting. Yet, she wanted to dispel a sense of gloom and doom. After pondering the subject of the storm and missing pair, she finally spoke. “Shall we sing or eat, for we’ve got almost half a choir here now?” she chuckled, and the others did, too.

  “No singing, please,” Monty laughed. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, Miss Callie, not even at the holidays.”

  “Oh, come now, Dr. Graham. You have a fine voice,” Mrs. Hoover called, while brushing Lily’s hair, with Minnie waiting for her turn and Quinny enjoying playing ball with Crane, once again.

  “I’ll sing with you, Miss Callie,” Charles Earl surprisingly commented. “We’ll sing a duet.”

  The lady chef laughed and shook her head at his invitation. “No, thank you, sir, but you might wish to go with Crane when he dashes out into the Kitchen Garden for more greens for the spinach salad when it clears a little. View the gardens. I know how you enjoy gardens. There are some ripe strawberries there. Please, don’t take any chances with lightning, though. Girls, aren’t we glad we made a double batch of applesauce to go with our ham and spring greens salad for our traditional Easter dinner? We’ll also have first-crop peas with new potatoes, Mr. Earl.”

  “Thank you. I am delighted to be in attendance, Miss Callie.”

  “All of that sounds so good,” Emma Hoover remarked with a grin and a happy shrug of her shoulders for emphasis. Don’t forget that we must finish off those chicken drumsticks from the picnic, as well,”

  Pastor Hoover raised a half full glass of cider to Miss Callie and Charles Earl. Next, he turned to the ladies gathered together near the fireside. “I believe pie is in order. We shall save our voices until John and Miss Hathaway return, though. Then we’ll have our choir,” he chuckled. Taking charge, he took the liberty of using his authority to reassure his friends. “They will be along soon. Don’t worry.”

  “You’re not the host here, Albert, and you need food before you can partake of pie, you know, my dear,” Emma chided in an audible whisper, with a grin and a wink, as the women laughed.

  “Yes, my love. I was merely standing in for John,” was his excuse, as he tenderly placed his arm around her. “I was hoping to sneak dessert before dinner, though. You know me,” he laughed.

  “I do,” she agreed, chuckling.

  “I believe we should each build some strawberry houses for the earliest strawberry pies of the season,” Crane advised, as he tried his hand puppet on each of the children.

  “Cold frames, I believe they are called, Crane, and a splendid idea, at that. We’ll have to mention it to John,” Pastor Hoover recommended.

  “We should try that at Fernhaven, don’t you think, Charles?” the lieutenant asked, deeply pondering the idea.

  His gardener nodded approval. “Absolutely, and the sooner we accomplish it, the better.”

  “We can get pie from the kitchen, Pastor, if you’d like,” the cook informed him, noting his interest. “It won’t be strawberry, though, since John requested walnut, and we take no offense to your pie hint.” She rose and mentioned that the sky was clearing, while pointing to the window. Her helpers quickly joined her to add the dessert to the food buffet table in the dining room.

  “Thank you. You’re such a good hostess, Miss Callie,” Albert Hoover sincerely complimented.

  So, the help dismissed to the kitchen to carry the remaining food and dessert, with the cook pleased that food seemed to take the edge off of some of the concern, at least for several of them. She was just certain that the doctor and young nanny would soon appear. If not, she knew the gentlemen would quickly begin a search party, probably even before dessert was served.

  Cousin Emery now informed them of his idea. ”I brought my harmonica for music later.”

  “I have mine handy, too,” Crane declared.

  “My drums are wrapped securely against this storm in my buggy,” added Monty Graham. “Yet, I have a new toy, a xylophone. Perhaps you’d like to try it later, Miss Hathaway. I’ll bring them in.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’d like that,” Phoebe replied, with a smile. “We pretty much sang unaccompanied by music at home.”

  “Perhaps you could try John’s new glass harmonica tonight, Pastor,” Cousin Emery then suggested. “It’s an unusual instrument.”

  “Yes, it sounds so sweet,” Emma remarked, as she and Phoebe expressed delight at the thought of a musical connection in formation. Then the ladies went to help carry bread, butter, and condiments.

  “What a lovely large kitchen this is,” Phoebe Hathaway declared upon entry.

  “It is adequate,” Miss Callie responded, adding, “The doctor does throw some large dinner gatherings and picnics in the shade, not to mention a fundraiser or two for the community each year. They’re always well-received, with a good turnout. A lot of family usually comes. You’ll see just everyone here, if you stay awhile.” Suddenly, though, the cook was concerned that her comment hadn’t sounded quite right, had offended, or perhaps was too harsh and uninviting. “What I meant to say was …”

  Emma interrupted upon entering the kitchen. “Darling Callie has cooked for so many, Phoebe. She
could even cook for the president, which reminds me, I’d like a couple of your recipes, dear Callie.”

  “Just name them and they’re yours,” was the cook’s cheerful response.

  “She could! Maybe she’ll even come up with something special for our wedding supper.” The housekeeper let their secret slip right out without even speaking to Crane. But when she turned to him, he didn’t seem to mind. Coming to her, he placed his arm around the shoulders of his blushing bride-to-be.

  “You’re planning a wedding supper?” questioned Crane’s mother. Smiling broadly, she then asked softly, “Oh. Is there something I don’t know? You don’t mean …”

  “Yes, Mother, we do.” Crane rushed to hug his mama, walnut pie in hand. “We are speaking about our wedding supper. I’ve proposed marriage to Miss Mariah and she has accepted.”

  Instantly, mother and son danced merrily in a small circle, while Phoebe and Emma congratulated Miss Mariah.

  “We have yet to tell Dr. Davis, though,” the young housekeeper informed the others. “So, please do keep it a secret for just a little while longer,” she pleaded. “We have so much planning to do yet.”

  “We will,” Emma declared. “But I can hardly wait. I want to sing a sonnet about it!”

  “It will be difficult not to say anything,” Miss Callie admitted, hugging her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, whom she liked very much, indeed. It was evident that the feeling was mutual.

  “We’ll have fun at the wedding,” Miss Mariah told her friend.

  “We will. In fact, we’ll have fun with the planning,” Miss Callie happily informed the group.

  “Miss Rachael already knows,” confided the bride-to-be.

  “She gave us a celebration the night I proposed, and wrote our wedding song,” Crane explained.