A Love Woven True

by Judith Miller

  ‘‘Absolutely!’’ Samuel exclaimed.

  Resounding yelps of enthusiasm filled the mill yard as the men began calling out the good news. Quickly, they scattered throughout the area, calling the rest of the men to assist them in the yard.

  ‘‘I’d like to know what the contents of your letter revealed,’’ Matthew said, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the clamoring noise.

  ‘‘Why don’t we go back to the office and I’ll tell you,’’ Samuel suggested.

  Once the men had departed the mill yard and settled themselves in Matthew’s office, Samuel withdrew the letter from his pocket. ‘‘This letter is from my good friend and associate, Walter Rochester. He sends his deepest apologies. His letter states that the shipment we first received was one destined for England. It was instead routed to Boston. When Walter realized the error, he immediately set out to correct the problem by shipping the original bales to Boston. He has agreed to waive all fees for our shipment and pay any damages caused by his carelessness.’’

  ‘‘Does he give further explanation?’’

  Samuel nodded. ‘‘It seems he sent a new employee, a young fellow with no prior experience, to stamp the bales with our Lowell imprint. The boy misunderstood and stamped all of the bales in the warehouse with the imprint. When it came time to load the ship, the dock workers had a bill of lading in their possession detailing only the number of pounds they were to load and that the bales should bear the Lowell imprint. Unfortunately, the bales near the front of the warehouse were the ones of poor quality but they bore our imprint.’’

  ‘‘And of course the dock workers wouldn’t know the difference,’’ Malcolm said. ‘‘They’d merely look for our imprint and load the weight listed on their paper work.’’

  ‘‘Exactly,’’ Samuel said. ‘‘The next day Walter went into the warehouse and discovered what had occurred. He immediately placed our bales on the next ship departing for Boston.’’

  ‘‘And what of the first shipment? Did Walter say what’s to be done with it?’’ Malcolm inquired.

  ‘‘He’s asked that I reroute it to Manchester, England—at his expense, of course.’’

  ‘‘Quite a mistake,’’ Matthew said as he leaned back in his leather-upholstered desk chair.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ Samuel agreed, ‘‘but Walter is a good man, and I don’t intend to push aside the years of excellent service he’s rendered to my family for one mistake. He tells me in his letter that he has put safeguards in place to prevent another such occurrence in the future. If the Associates decide I should remain on their payroll, it could be only with the understanding I’d continue to use Walter’s services.’’

  ‘‘There’s little doubt the Associates will want you to continue as their buyer. That said, I believe I owe several apologies. Samuel, I hope you’ll forgive me. Given your excellent performance in the past, I should have come to your defense instead of going along with whatever the Associates decided. I’m sorry for my behavior.’’

  Matthew paused and inhaled very slowly. ‘‘I was blinded by the worry and concern for so many lives. I should have trusted God to have an answer, but I did not seek Him. I pray for His forgiveness as well as yours.’’ He looked to Malcolm Wainwright. ‘‘I know my lack of support for you and Samuel came as a painful blow to you. Please accept my apology.’’

  Samuel and Malcolm alternately shook hands with Matthew. ‘‘Apology accepted,’’ Malcolm said.

  ‘‘But please remember to caution the Associates,’’ Samuel said. ‘‘I will not continue to work for them if they insist I contract work with anyone other than Walter.’’

  ‘‘Point taken. I don’t believe there will be a problem,’’ Matthew replied.

  ‘‘Then I think we had best be on our way.’’ Malcolm stood and Samuel followed suit. ‘‘I’ll want to share the good news with Mother, and Samuel needs to modify the arrangements for shipping the original load of cotton to Manchester. We’ll see you at supper, McKinley?’’

  Before he could answer, Matthew interceded. ‘‘Once I’ve had a chat with McKinley, I’m hoping he’ll join our family for supper tonight. If that won’t interfere with your plans.’’

  Malcolm tilted his head and smiled. ‘‘Not at all. Samuel will be boarding the train for Boston. Perhaps Mother will agree to supper at the Merrimack House. If not, I think the two of us can enjoy a quiet supper at home.’’

  McKinley bid Samuel and his father good-bye and then turned a questioning look toward his employer.

  ‘‘A moment of your time, please,’’ Mr. Cheever requested.

  ‘‘Of course,’’ McKinley replied.

  ‘‘I also owe you an apology, McKinley. I am ashamed of my behavior and ask your forgiveness. Ordering you to choose between your family and your employment as well as my comment in regard to becoming a member of our family constituted shameful behavior on my part. I fear I acted in haste and desperation, more concerned about my position than my own family. In short, I’m ashamed of myself. If it helps at all, please know that Violet or Lilly would have forced me to my senses before permitting me to stand in the way of love. That aside, I was wrong and hope we can begin afresh.’’

  The sun suddenly appeared more radiant as it shone through the office window. ‘‘I believe I would like that very much,’’ McKinley said with a broad smile.

  The sound of the girls’ enthusiastic chatter drifted toward the kitchen, where Elinor was ladling boiled corned beef, potatoes, and turnips into several large serving bowls. She heard the scraping of chairs in the dining room and quickly checked the bread pudding. It would need another few minutes in the oven.

  ‘‘You have time to wash up before supper,’’ she called to the girls.

  ‘‘Do hurry! We have exciting news,’’ Lucinda told her.

  The comment was almost enough for Elinor to break her rule and permit the girls in the kitchen during meal preparation.

  Almost as quickly, one of her grandmother’s old adages rang in her ears. Once permission is given to break a rule, it’s never again taken seriously.

  ‘‘I can wait to hear the news,’’ Elinor muttered aloud as she gave the pan of bread pudding a firm shake. Done enough, she decided, placing it on the cabinet to cool before filling small china bowls with the horseradish sauce the girls enjoyed with their corned beef. With an agility that surprised even her, she deftly sliced two loaves of rye bread and carried them to the table.

  ‘‘Please tell the others supper is ready,’’ she asked Lucinda, who was sitting at the table with her hands folded, obviously anxious to be there when the important news was announced.

  Lucinda nodded. ‘‘But please let me tell you,’’ she whispered.

  ‘‘I will,’’ Elinor replied, giving the girl a pleasant smile.

  By the time they had all gathered around the table, filled their plates, and offered the blessing, Lucinda was wiggling like a vigorous newborn babe.

  Elinor carefully tucked a frayed napkin onto her lap. ‘‘I believe you had some news you wanted to share with me, Lucinda.’’

  The girl immediately perked to attention. ‘‘None of us is going to have to leave, and you’re not going to lose your position as our keeper. The house will remain open,’’ she spurted, her cheeks aglow with excitement.

  Elinor sat back in her chair and gazed around the table. All of the girls appeared to be nodding affirmation of what Lucinda had told her. ‘‘How can that be?’’ she asked. Her heart pounded intensely beneath the bodice of her calico dress.

  ‘‘A new shipment of cotton arrived at the mill. There was a mix-up of some kind in the shipments, and now that the mill has received the proper cotton, none of us will lose her job or be required to move! Mr. Cheever made the announcement as we left work this evening. Isn’t that marvelous news?’’

  ‘‘Answered prayer,’’ Elinor whispered.

  ‘‘What?’’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘‘I said this is an answer to my prayers,’’ she s
aid aloud. ‘‘Even though my brother and his family generously offered me a home, it has never been my desire to be an added member of another family. I’ve come to think of you girls as my family. And now we’ll be able to remain together,’’ she said with a bright smile.

  Steam spiraled upward and hovered over the pan of hot dishwater awaiting the supper dishes. Elinor gingerly dipped her hands into the heated water and enjoyed the relaxing warmth before beginning the dreary chore. But unlike evenings in the past, she issued a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the soiled dinner plates and grimy cooking pots that needed her attention. And tonight she thanked God that her position as a boardinghouse keeper was once again secure.

  A hesitant smile made its way across her face. ‘‘Once I turned loose my anger and believed you would keep me safe, you wrapped me in your arms and protected me. Now I pray I will remember always to place my trust in you,’’ she murmured.

  That night when the house was quiet and the girls were asleep, Elinor took up her Bible and opened it. Without looking upon the pages, she began to pray. ‘‘I know I’m a terrible sinner, Lord. My faith has been so weak that it was hardly in existence. Thin threads that barely held together. It’s not been easy, but then, I suppose you already know that, because you know everything.’’

  She paused and leaned back against her simple headboard. ‘‘I’m lonely, Father. Lonely for the company of my family. Lonely for friends. Lonely for the lost love of my husbands. I want to believe that you will fill that lonely place—that emptiness. You’ve asked me to trust you, and I am trying. But I know too that I’m weak. I know I will fail you. But it is my heart’s desire that my faith should grow strong. That the strands of faith would thicken into cords bound by your love. Please help me, Father.’’

  She sat in the silence a moment longer, then read the words of Isaiah fifty-four. ‘‘Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed: neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame: for thou shalt forget the shame of thy youth, and shalt not remember the reproach of thy widowhood any more. For thy Maker is thine husband; the Lord of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel; The God of the whole earth shall he be called.’’

  Elinor wiped her tears with the cuff of her dress and continued. ‘‘For the Lord hath called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.’’

  Elinor let the Bible fall to her lap, sobbing freely into her hands. The Lord had spoken to her heart as though He sat by her side. The words of this declaration felt as if they’d been penned just for her.

  ‘‘I am redeemed,’’ she declared. ‘‘I am not forsaken.’’

  CHAPTER• 28

  August

  VIOLET LOOKED ACROSS the elegantly dressed table and smiled at McKinley. She knew he was nervous, anxious about something. He wouldn’t tell her what it was, but Violet had ideas of her own. For weeks McKinley had hinted at asking for her hand, but so far as she knew, he’d failed to move forward on this.

  She toyed with her half-filled goblet as her father droned on about warehousing cotton and shortening the length of time by ship. She hated to say she was bored, but the business of the mills had always put her to sleep. Perhaps it was wrong to feel this way; after all, the mills were responsible for her fine social standing and wealth. Still, it was the business of men, and she could hardly be expected to care about profits and losses and schedules.

  Violet knew it was expected she would marry and produce a family, and to her that was quite acceptable. However, it was the wait that wearied her mind. Men would take forever to resolve such matters if not prodded by women.

  ‘‘I disagree with your approach,’’ Violet heard her mother exclaim.

  ‘‘But you’re a woman, and you would no doubt have the entire mill designed with lovely cushioned French furnishings and a tea stand in every corner,’’ Violet’s father teased. She had no idea what the conversation was about, but she took the opportunity to lean toward McKinley just as her brother, Michael, boisterously entered the conversation and took the attention of both of her parents.

  ‘‘McKinley, I just want to know something,’’ Violet began softly.

  He looked up from his plum pudding with a questioning expression.

  Michael had raised his voice to what was generally an unacceptable level as he protested his mother’s comments. Violet smiled and leaned closer.

  ‘‘Do you plan to marry me or not?’’

  The entire table went silent as everyone turned. Violet hadn’t meant for the words to come out so loud. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she caught the stunned expressions. Then without warning, everyone, McKinley included, burst into laughter.

  Violet shrank into her chair, wishing the earth would simply open up and swallow her whole.

  ‘‘I think you’d better answer the girl,’’ her father declared.

  McKinley recovered and straightened his shoulders. ‘‘I had intended to ask you properly, later tonight. Of course, now that you’ve clearly made the room our audience, perhaps I should simply proceed.’’ He got up from his chair and came around the table to where Violet sat. Pulling her to her feet, he gazed tenderly into her eyes.

  Violet thought she might well swoon, although she had never been given to such things. She forced her knees together to keep her legs from trembling.

  ‘‘I have fallen in love with the most beautiful woman in all of Lowell,’’ McKinley began. ‘‘A Northern girl with a heart of gold.

  It is my desire that you would accept me as your husband—that we might marry and live here for the rest of our lives. To answer your question, I do plan to marry you, Miss Cheever . . . if you’ll have me.’’

  Violet grinned, no longer caring about the embarrassment she’d caused herself. ‘‘I will happily take you as my husband, Mr. Wainwright.’’

  Violet’s family began to applaud, but she only had eyes for McKinley. Her dreams had all just come true. What did a little embarrassment matter?

  The sound of an approaching carriage drifting through the open parlor window captured Jasmine’s attention. She moved to the front door, fanning herself against the onslaught of yet another warm spell. Clouds of dust plumed from under the horses’ hooves as the carriage neared the house. Pushing open the door, she walked onto the porch and immediately gained an improved view of the conveyance. Violet Cheever waved from the window of the carriage, her face illuminated by a bright smile.

  ‘‘This is a surprise,’’ Jasmine said as Violet made her way up the front steps.

  The two women briefly embraced. ‘‘Mother chided me for calling on you without proper notice. In fact, she followed me to the carriage in order to upbraid me for my rude behavior. Obviously she was distraught that I failed to heed her warnings over breakfast this morning.’’ Violet cleared her throat. ‘‘But I couldn’t let matters remain unresolved between us. I acted in a poor fashion . . . making an undue judgment against you. I have come to seek your forgiveness.’’

  Jasmine smiled. ‘‘It is my harsh words that need to be forgiven. You sought only to share your concerns. I pray you might forgive me as well.’’

  They embraced again, only this time there was much more feeling. It was as if a dam had burst open to free a flood of emotion.

  ‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ Violet said, tears forming in her eyes. ‘‘I never meant to hurt you or Moses.’’

  ‘‘And I am sorry for my sharp tongue,’’ Jasmine said as they pulled away. She wiped her tears with the tips of her fingers. ‘‘Please know how much I love you. You are as dear to me as a sister. Indeed, soon to be my sister.’’

  ‘‘Yes, sisters. I’ve always wanted a sister.’’

  ‘‘Come,’’ Jasmine instructed. ‘‘Come and sit. Tell me all
about my brother’s proposal.’’

  Violet laughed. ‘‘You mean you haven’t heard the embarrassing truth of that day?’’

  Jasmine shook her head. ‘‘No, I suppose I had no idea of there being any reason for embarrassment. Pray tell, what did my brother do?’’

  ‘‘It wasn’t him at all,’’ Violet protested. ‘‘ ’Twas I. I’m afraid I grew weary of waiting for his proposal. As my family argued at the dinner table, I leaned to ask him . . . quite boldly . . . if he intended to marry me or not.’’

  Jasmine grinned, then put her hand to her mouth as a giggle escaped.

  Violet shrugged. ‘‘I’m afraid McKinley will always tell our children of their mother’s bossy nature and how she pressed him to propose.’’

  ‘‘Oh, it will be a dear story,’’ Jasmine assured. ‘‘Now come and tell me all about the wedding plans.’’ She pulled Violet into the house.

  Violet removed her pink silk bonnet that had been fashionably trimmed with an ivory feather and matching ribbons. ‘‘That’s one of the reasons I’ve come. I’ve been busy making plans for the wedding, and I’m hoping you’ll agree to aid me with your insight.’’

  ‘‘I would be delighted. Kiara made a fresh pitcher of lemonade only a short time ago. Why don’t you sit down while I fetch a glass for each of us?’’

  ‘‘A cool drink would be most enjoyable. I’ll come along and help you. The heat this summer has been most agonizing. I don’t recall an August quite this warm.’’

  ‘‘Yes, it almost makes me think I’ve returned to Mississippi,’’ Jasmine said as they walked to the kitchen. ‘‘One must feel sympathy for all those Southerners who have come north to escape the scourge of summer’s unbearable temperatures, only to be greeted by much the same discomfort when they arrive.’’

  ‘‘Yes, indeed. Although McKinley mentioned that many of them come here not only to escape the heat, but also to escape the possibility of contracting malaria or yellow fever.’’