A Love Woven True

by Judith Miller

  ‘‘Your parents?’’

  ‘‘Deceased. Taylor and Bella were good to me, and living in their home made me desire the pleasure of a good marriage such as theirs. When I was seventeen I met Wilbur Stewart, and we were married when I was eighteen. He was a kind young man and I loved him very much,’’ she said, pausing momentarily.

  ‘‘I trust you were happy in your marriage to Mr. Stewart.’’

  Her eyes clouded briefly. ‘‘He drowned only weeks after our marriage. I thought I would never love another and yet, two years later I met and married Daniel Brighton. We moved to Philadelphia, where Daniel worked for the newspaper. He contracted yellow fever and was dead six months after our wedding day.’’

  Oliver hunched forward, his hands folded together as he met her gaze. ‘‘My dear, dear Mrs. Brighton. How you have suffered. Having buried two husbands, I understand your fear of ever again giving your heart to another. Yet I would be honored if you would count me among your friends.’’

  Elinor tugged at the lace edging of her handkerchief before glancing up at Oliver and sending him the ghost of a smile. She wondered at her own willingness to share such private information with this stranger. Yet he seemed to sense her fragile condition. ‘‘Thank you, Mr. Maxwell,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Your kindness has touched my heart.’’

  CHAPTER• 9

  JASMINE HURRIED down the stairway at the sound of her grandmother’s voice. ‘‘Grandmother, what a pleasant surprise!’’

  ‘‘I was anxious for a visit with my great-grandson. I suppose you’re going to tell me he’s napping or some other nonsense,’’ Alice Wainwright said while offering her cheek for a perfunctory kiss.

  Jasmine bent and kissed her grandmother’s rouged cheek. ‘‘Of course not. However, he is with Naomi and Moses. They can’t seem to escape the house without him. Naomi comes over to help with chores or ask a question, and Spencer insists upon returning home with them.’’

  ‘‘I hope you’re not giving in to the boy’s every whim, Jasmine. You don’t want him to grow up thinking he can always have his way. Discipline! That’s the key to excellent child rearing.’’

  Jasmine looped arms with her grandmother and led her into the parlor. ‘‘He doesn’t always get his way, Grandmother, but I do encourage Moses and Spencer to play together. The boys learn from each other—each of them needs a sibling. They fill a void for each other, and I’ve grown to love Moses. He’s a sweet child.’’

  ‘‘I agree that Moses is a fine little boy, but Spencer needs a brother or sister of his own. You need to cease this foolishness of being a contented widow and agree to marry Nolan. And I don’t mean a year or two from now. As far as I’m concerned, you should be planning your marriage to Nolan at this very moment.’’

  ‘‘I’m not certain Nolan would agree, Grandmother.’’

  ‘‘I don’t know why not. Men never want to be included in making wedding arrangements. And if you’re concerned a large wedding is inappropriate for a widow, plan something simple—yet elegant, of course.’’

  Jasmine sat down beside her grandmother. ‘‘Since Nolan has not asked me to be his wife, I think he would be somewhat surprised to hear I’m planning the details of our wedding.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ Alice’s pale lips formed a large oval, and she clasped a hand to her chest.

  Stifling a giggle, Jasmine grasped her grandmother’s hand. ‘‘I know you believe the rumor that Nolan had asked for my hand shortly after Bradley’s death, but it isn’t so, Grandmother. You seem to forget that even though Bradley was not a loving brother—’’

  ‘‘Or husband,’’ Alice interjected.

  Jasmine nodded. ‘‘Or husband—there is still a need for honor and respect. Nolan has been a true friend and I care deeply for him. . . .’’

  ‘‘Oh, pshaw! The two of you need to stop this nonsense. It’s obvious you love each other. Why hasn’t he declared himself? Must I travel to Boston, grab him by the ear, and personally escort him to Lowell in order to force his proposal?’’

  ‘‘Grandmother! I can’t believe you would even entertain such a notion. If and when Nolan asks me to become his wife, I want it to be his idea—not yours. Please promise me you will not interfere.’’

  ‘‘When he finally asks, you’ll agree to marry him? You do love him, don’t you?’’

  Jasmine lowered her eyes. ‘‘Yes, I love him, and I would be pleased to marry him.’’

  ‘‘Well, then, that’s settled. Now, when do I get to see my great-grandson?’’ ‘‘If you like we could walk over and you could see the progress being made on the new house for Naomi and Obadiah.’’

  ‘‘That sounds like an excellent idea. I know you feel an obligattion to Obadiah, but I want you to remember the concern that arose when Mammy was here in Lowell—folks upset that a slave was living under your roof. Since you have Obadiah’s family living on your property, there are those who will assume they are slaves.’’

  ‘‘There is a vast difference between the two situations. After all, Mammy was a slave. That fact aside, if there were concerns, I think I would have heard some rumors by now, don’t you?’’

  ‘‘It’s difficult to know. The mills give rise to a more transient populace, and there’s always the chance someone will arrive in town, pleased to cast aspersions.’’

  ‘‘Both Obadiah and Naomi carry their papers showing they are free, and all of the local merchants know them as freed. Should any question arise, I think there are many who would vouch that they came here as freed slaves and live on my property by their own choice. They come and go at their own pleasure and are paid a wage the same as the others who work for me. If they were white, no one would question the arrangement.’’

  ‘‘You need not defend yourself to me, Jasmine. I realize they are free. I merely ask that you remain alert. Ah, I see my great-grandson is not afraid of becoming dirty,’’ she said, pointing toward the boys.

  ‘‘They seem to think that mound of dirt is their personal playground. It takes quite a dousing to get Spencer clean after he’s been 113 hard at play.’’

  ‘‘From all appearances, I can only imagine,’’ Alice agreed. ‘‘It looks like Obadiah has made good progress on the new house. Have you hired any additional help, or is he doing all the work himself?’’

  ‘‘I’ve hired several men to assist with the labor. I’ve recently purchased additional horses—breeding stock. Paddy and Mr. Fisher need Obadiah’s assistance in the barns. I don’t expect Obadiah to spend his days working with the horses and helping with farm chores and then build a house by himself.’’

  ‘‘You’re much too defensive, Jasmine. I was merely inquiring, not preparing to condemn you. It’s of no concern to me if you have the entire house constructed for him.’’

  ‘‘I’m sorry, Grandmother. After your earlier comments regarding the slavery issue, I suppose I felt a need to defend all of my decisions regarding Obadiah.’’ Jasmine turned her attention back toward the two little boys. ‘‘Spencer! Look who’s come to see you,’’ she called.

  The boys glanced toward the two women, and both came running on wobbly legs. Naomi stood in the doorway of the house, wiping her hands on a frayed calico apron. ‘‘Moses! You stay here. That ain’t your granny.’’

  Moses stopped momentarily, his gaze shifting between his mother and his little friend, who continued running toward the women.

  ‘‘It’s all right,’’ Jasmine called to Naomi. ‘‘I’ll look after him.’’

  ‘‘But I gotta take food over to da Marlows. You want me to tell Obadiah to come fetch Moses when he be done working in da barn?’’

  ‘‘That will be fine. You go ahead,’’ Jasmine said.

  ‘‘Naomi is cooking for another family?’’ Alice asked as Spencer bounded into her skirts, his chubby fingers clinging to the deep folds of fabric.

  ‘‘Yes. Nancy Marlow has been ill for several weeks. Henry asked Naomi if she would prepare meals for them. He has no family nearby, an
d with three strapping young boys, he needed help. I told Naomi she didn’t need to feel obligated to take on the additional work, but she said she wanted to earn the extra coins. I think she’s hoping to earn enough to purchase some new items for the house,’’ Jasmine explained. ‘‘I fear your gown will need a cleaning,’’ Jasmine continued while pointing to the smudges of dirt on Alice’s rose and paisley print skirt.

  ‘‘Seeing this happy little fellow is worth the trouble.’’ Alice grasped Spencer by the hand. ‘‘Come along, young man. Let’s go back to the house and have some cookies, shall we?’’

  ‘‘Tookie,’’ Moses mimicked.

  ‘‘Yes, Moses. We’ll get you a cookie,’’ Jasmine replied, taking him by the hand. ‘‘If you’d like to fix a plate of cookies and some lemonade for the boys, I’ll see if I can wipe some of this grime from their faces and hands.’’

  Once the boys were settled with their cookies, Alice gave Jasmine a thoughtful look. ‘‘I believe Spencer is getting old enough to come home with me from time to time. What do you think?’’

  ‘‘I don’t think he’d be happy to make an overnight visit without me.’’

  ‘‘No, of course not. But he could spend the afternoon occasionally, don’t you agree?’’

  ‘‘Yes, but you must remember that he’s become accustomed to having Moses nearby. I doubt you could handle both of them for an afternoon. They can become quite rowdy.’’

  Alice chuckled and nodded in agreement. ‘‘Yes, I can well remember having three boys of my own years ago. Your father was always antagonizing one of his brothers.’’

  ‘‘And I’m certain Uncle Franklin and Uncle Harry caused their share of problems also.’’

  ‘‘Indeed, the three of them were quite a handful. I do miss those days. Don’t let this time slip away from you, Jasmine. I wish I had spent more time with my children when they were young. Back then I thought it more important to attend social functions than be with my children. Now I have all the time in the world to attend teas and parties, but what I desire is having family near me.’’

  Jasmine noted the tears clouding her grandmother’s hazel eyes. ‘‘If it’s that important to you, Grandmother, we can decide upon an afternoon and I’ll bring Spencer each week. Would you like that?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ she said, the gleam returning to her gaze. ‘‘What about Wednesdays?’’

  Jasmine nodded. ‘‘We’ll begin next week and see how both you and Spencer make it through the afternoon.’’

  ‘‘Good. I’ll go home and begin making plans for our first afternoon together. You need not see me to the door. You stay here with the boys,’’ Alice said before kissing Spencer’s cheek and hugging Moses good-bye.

  Alice called out a final farewell as she departed the front door. ‘‘We’ll see you on Wednesday,’’ Jasmine called in return.

  Moments later, Jasmine spun around at the sound of the front door closing, which was immediately followed by footsteps and chattering. ‘‘Look who was arriving as I was leaving the house,’’ Alice chortled, pulling Kiara forward. ‘‘I couldn’t leave. I wanted to see your face when she tells you her news.’’

  Kiara was beaming, her cheeks flush and her dark brown eyes shining. ‘‘I’m goin’ to have a baby,’’ she said. ‘‘I was goin’ to wait to tell, but Rogan is announcin’ the news to every stranger he meets,’’ she said. ‘‘He can’t seem to keep the matter to ’imself.’’

  ‘‘I’m so happy for you, Kiara. I know how much this means to you and Rogan. When do you expect the baby?’’

  ‘‘Not until the end of January. That’s why I told Rogan ’twas foolish to be spreadin’ the word so soon.’’

  ‘‘I don’t blame him. He’s happy and proud, and I’m happy for both of you,’’ Jasmine said, embracing Kiara. ‘‘And what does young Paddy think of all this? Is he anxious to become an uncle?’’

  ‘‘Aye. Between Rogan and Paddy, there seems to be nothin’ else to talk about. I told them by the time the baby finally arrives, they’ll be weary of the idea.’’

  ‘‘I don’t think so,’’ Alice said. ‘‘They’ll have him out riding horses before he turns a year old!’’

  Kiara tilted her head to the side and laughed. ‘‘I told Rogan and Paddy I’d have their hide if they told ya before I had the chance, Jasmine. They said if I didn’t come over and tell ya soon, they’d not be held responsible. I wish I had time to stay for a visit, but I must get back and fix supper.’’

  ‘‘Promise you’ll come back tomorrow when you have more time.’’

  ‘‘I promise I’ll come if ya do na mind me workin’ on my lace while we visit. I’ve orders I can na keep up with.’’

  ‘‘Bring your lace and whatever else you must, but please come and visit with me.’’

  ‘‘It’s agreed, then. If ya’re leavin’, Mrs. Wainwright, I’ll walk out with ya,’’ Kiara said.

  Jasmine followed along behind the two women, with Moses and Spencer each clasping one of her hands. The three of them watched from the wraparound front porch as their guests departed and then remained outdoors, with the boys playing on the porch while Jasmine sat embroidering an intricate pattern on a pair of silk stockings.

  ‘‘This is certainly our day for unexpected company,’’ Jasmine said to the boys as a horse-drawn wagon turned into the driveway and came to a stop in front of the house.

  ‘‘Good day, ma’am. Oliver Maxwell’s the name,’’ the man said while jumping down from the wagon and removing his hat with a flair.

  ‘‘Good day.’’

  ‘‘I’m a shoe peddler well acquainted with the residents of Lowell but decided I would begin including some of the surrounding community when I come to call upon the boardinghouses and other residents in town. Would you be interested in the purchase of a pair of new kid slippers for yourself or perhaps some new riding boots for your husband?’’ Oliver glanced toward the two boys. ‘‘Or some fine new shoes for your sons?’’

  ‘‘Shoes,’’ Spencer said, pointing toward his feet.

  Moses giggled and pulled at his shoe. ‘‘Shoes.’’

  ‘‘Yes, you both have shoes,’’ Jasmine said with a smile. ‘‘But they are certainly worn, and you could both use a new pair. In fact, I imagine everyone in the household would benefit from some new shoes. Why don’t you measure the boys’ feet, and then we’ll go out to the barn. I have several men working for me, and you can measure them also.’’

  Jasmine watched as the salesman removed Spencer’s shoes and carefully made drawings of her son’s feet. The peddler had a way with the children, making them laugh as he traced around their small bare feet.

  ‘‘What names should I place on the drawings?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘Spencer on the larger size and Moses on the smaller,’’ she replied.

  ‘‘There’s a size difference in the boys’ shoes, but your sons appear to be about the same age. Are they twins?’’ Mr. Maxwell asked.

  Jasmine smiled at the question. ‘‘No, they’re close friends. But you’re correct about their ages. They were born within nine weeks of each other.’’

  He gave a triumphant nod. ‘‘Are you certain they’re not related—cousins, maybe? They sure favor one another with that dark wavy hair and those big brown eyes.’’

  It was difficult for Jasmine to keep from laughing aloud. She’d often thought the same thing when the boys were toddling about the house or playing in the yard together. Grandmother Wainwright called their resemblance uncanny, and Jasmine agreed. No one, including Mr. Maxwell, would ever guess one of the boys was a Negro. Jasmine waited while the salesman returned his tools to the buggy and then mounted the box of his small wagon. ‘‘If you’ll follow the driveway to the back, it will lead you to the barn. I’ll meet you there.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, ma’am,’’ he said, once again tipping his hat and giving her a broad smile.

  By the time Jasmine had corralled the two boys back through the house and out to the barn, Mr.
Maxwell, Paddy, Obadiah, and her old groomsman, Richard Fisher, were all gathered together.

  ‘‘Papa!’’ Moses cried as he scurried with outstretched arms toward Obadiah.

  Mr. Maxwell looked in all directions and then watched with widened eyes as Moses buried his tiny cherub face in Obadiah’s pant legs. The peddler’s fingers tightened around the leather reins until his knuckles were void of color. His mouth was compressed into a thin, hard line. She should have told him, for he was obviously embarrassed by his earlier remarks.

  ‘‘Why don’t you measure Paddy first, and then he can water your horse, if you like,’’ Jasmine suggested.

  Mr. Maxwell jumped down from the wagon seat and turned toward Padraig. ‘‘I’m sure the horse would appreciate it, and I know I’d be pleased,’’ he said to the boy. ‘‘I’ve quite a ways to travel yet today.’’

  Paddy rubbed one hand down the horse’s withers and gave the strawberry roan a firm pat before leaning down to pull off his boots. ‘‘Sure and that’s a fine-lookin’ mare ya got. I’ll be pleased ta water her for ya,’’ he said, pushing a tousled mass of black curls off his forehead.

  ‘‘I’m certain she doesn’t compare to the horseflesh you’re accustomed to taking care of around here, but she serves me well,’’ Mr. Maxwell said, placing a piece of paper atop a wooden board.

  Paddy placed his foot on the paper and watched as Mr. Maxwell carefully traced around it. ‘‘I’m learnin’ horses are a lot like people. Can’t be judgin’ ’em only by appearance or ya’ll be disappointed. Sometimes the ugly ones turn out to be much better than the beauties. Kinda like they need to be provin’ themselves because they do na have their beauty to depend upon.’’

  ‘‘You’re wise for your years, young man. Beauty is only skin deep, but there are those of us that will never completely learn that lesson. We like a woman that is easy on the eyes,’’ Mr. Maxwell commented as he finished the drawings.

  Paddy pulled on his boots. ‘‘I’ll na be denying a pretty lass is hard to overlook, but it’s the plain ones that cook up a tasty stew and keep yar house in order.’’