Copyright
ISBN 1-59310-944-X
Copyright © 2006 by Tamela Hancock Murray. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Prologue
Washington County, Maryland, 1899
Katherine Jones looked over the letter she had just penned to Otis Rath, a brave sailor fighting in the war against the Spaniards. Despite Otis’s noteworthy war record and adventures at sea, she found writing to Otis much more difficult than writing to her childhood friend Christopher Bagley. Her pen flowed with no effort over the paper as she told Christopher, who was away at agricultural college, all about the week’s events. They knew the same people, had been taught by the same teacher, and had attended the same church when Christopher was home. He understood her. But Otis was a stranger.
“What did you write?” Miranda Henderson asked from across the kitchen table.
Miranda kept up a lively correspondence with her cousin Matthew in the army, but Katherine was writing to a man she had never met as a favor to her beloved uncle. After the first few sentences, Katherine struggled. What could she tell Otis?
Still holding the ivory-colored rag paper, Katherine leaned her chin on her palm. “Oh, I don’t know what to write. Otis and I have no acquaintances in common, and nothing exciting seems to happen here.”
Miranda snatched Katherine’s letter and read over it. “What makes you think he would want to read this? Who cares that you gathered more eggs than usual this week? Or what the preacher said last Sunday? Unless you think Otis is some kind of heathen, and you’re looking for a convert.” Miranda sniffed.
“Christopher doesn’t seem to mind such news.”
“That’s different. You’ve known him all your life.”
“Precisely.” Katherine sighed. “Maybe I never should have agreed to correspond with someone I’ve never met.”
“Especially if your main purpose for writing is to bring him to the faith.”
“No, that’s not my reason. Besides, Otis says he loves the Lord. And of course I never would use war correspondence to gain a convert unless God gave me a clear leading to do so.”
“And He hasn’t.” Miranda scooted the letter across the table back at Katherine as though it was better suited for the trash bin than the postman. “I say that if you never want to hear from your sailor again, just keep giving him a Sunday school report.”
“If my letter is so boring, then you must know how to write a most entertaining missive. So tell me, what are you writing to your cousin in the army?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Miranda smiled, held up the letter, and read aloud:
Dear Matthew,
This has proven to be the most exciting week I have experienced since the commencement of our correspondence! Much to the delight of the Ladies’ Horsewomen’s Club, I earned a blue ribbon to add to my growing collection, for my equestrian skills in jumping hurdles. My mare, Ash, was in fine form as usual, guided with my gentle but experienced and firm hand. The trophy I won is a handsome one and looks well on my bookshelf.
I have been working on my needlework to enter in the fair. The sampler, a colorful example of fine work, is almost ready. I am sure it will be recognized with yet another ribbon to add to my collection.
My room is so filled with trophies and ribbons that I do believe we’ll soon need to add yet another room to the house to hold them all! But no number of accolades I can earn with my puny endeavors can ever compare to the many medals you deserve for fighting for your country each and every day. Putting yourself in harm’s way is ever so brave. My heart flutters in fear to think about the danger you face. The members of the fairer sex and the men left on the home front who are unable to go in your stead are all so grateful for your courage and sacrifice.
To show my friendly and familial devotion, I am enclosing a small lock of my hair. When you look at this little memento, remember me, your dear cousin, as I remember you in fond kinship for your bravery.
Yours most sincerely,
Miranda
Katherine shook her head upon hearing such hyperbole. “I do declare, that is some letter.”
“Entertaining, is it not?”
“It certainly does detail your recent accomplishments. No doubt your cousin finds such news fascinating. But I haven’t earned any ribbons lately, and I’m not one to pour on the praise like you are, Miranda. Such writing comes easily to you but not to me. It’s just not in my nature.”
“Maybe you should follow my example and make it part of your nature, then.”
“Maybe I should.” Katherine stared at the words she had written to Otis, but her mind was too filled with woe to comprehend them. “Maybe I’m not called to cheer up a sailor. I should concede defeat.” She looked at Miranda. “Although even if my letter was the most trite in the world, Otis would have bragging rights since he’d be getting mail. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Bragging rights, eh?” Miranda snapped her fingers. “Then why don’t you give your sailor something to brag about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve sent him a portrait of yourself, haven’t you?”
“Yes, the best one I have.” Katherine nodded.
“The one of you in the white lace dress?”
“That’s the one.”
“Good. Then all the other fellows know he’s writing to a lovely brunette with big eyes. Now all you have to do is to make yourself seem just a little more. . .exciting.”
“Miranda! Are you telling me to lie?”
“Of course not.” She tapped her fingers ever so lightly on the table. “Just embellish a little. What’s the harm?”
Katherine leaned back in her chair in a failed effort to separate herself from Miranda and her suggestion. “What a terrible Christian I would be if I pretended to be someone I’m not. I can’t. Not even to cheer up a brave military man.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe I can change your mind.”
Katherine shook her head. “Never.” She sealed the envelope. “If Otis doesn’t want to read about the sermon, that’s fine by me. He can stop writing, then.”
Miranda didn’t say another word. Then why did the look on her face leave Katherine wondering…and worrying?
One
Washington County, Maryland, 1901
Though Otis had been honorably discharged from the service, Katherine’s correspondence with him hadn’t diminished one iota. If anything, his hints of admiration of her only increased with time.
So when a letter written in a fine hand appeared in the family’s stack of mail one Tuesday morning, she felt no surprise. Only when she studied its contents did she sit down in a kitchen chair.
Otis was planning a visit. He would be arriving the next day! Katherine let out a gasp.
“Is that a letter from the sailor?” Katherine’s ten-year-old sister asked, looking up from the comics section of a newspaper.
“Yes, Betsy.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you seem surprised?” Betsy’s brown eyes took on a heightened glint.
“His news is unexpected, that’s why. H
e’s coming for a visit.”
It was Betsy’s turn to let out a breath. “Oh! How exciting! I wonder if he wrote me, too.”
Katherine flipped through the pile of mail. “As a matter of fact, he did.” She handed her a white envelope bearing Otis’s precise script.
“Goodie!” Betsy ripped open the letter and drew out a prize. “Look! He sent me a bookmark!”
“Oh, how lovely. I know he’s proud that you are reading so well now.”
Betsy began reading her missive from Otis.
Katherine interrupted with a thought. “Oh, I must tell Mother.” She rushed upstairs, where Mother was folding laundry.
The older woman turned to her. “What is it, Katherine? You’re running around like there’s a fire, only you look too happy for anything to be terribly wrong.”
“Oh, no, nothing is wrong. Indeed, everything is just right!”
“Like Goldilocks in the fairy tale, eh?” Mother teased.
Katherine clasped her hands. “You could say that.” She rocked back and forth with glee. “Otis is coming from South Carolina to visit us!”
Mother gasped. “He’s coming all that way?”
“Yes. Can you believe it?”
Mother thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact, I can. You’ve been writing to him for quite some time, and I don’t think the correspondence would have lasted so long after the war unless he was at least a mite sweet on you.”
Blushing, Katherine took a sudden interest in the starched curtains framing her parents’ bedroom window. “I don’t know about that, but I do look forward to his visit.”
“When is he due to arrive?”
“Tomorrow!”
Mother’s expression went from pleased to alarmed. “Tomorrow? Why, we’ll hardly have time to prepare any food. And we must air out Ralph’s room for him. The sheets are clean, but it might not hurt to put fresh ones on the bed for Otis all the same.” Mother hurried to place a pile of unmentionables in her dresser drawer. “My, but we must start right away. Get a rag and wipe the furniture in Ralph’s room real good now, and dust everything downstairs, too. Especially in the formal parlor. You hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Katherine wasn’t worried. Mother was in the habit of keeping her house clean enough for company on a moment’s notice.
“Oh, I do wish we had time to polish everything.”
“We just polished for spring cleaning. I think everything looks fine.”
“To your eyes, maybe. But you’re accustomed to how things look around here. He’ll be seeing everything for the first time. Oh, I wish he’d given us more notice!”
“I have a feeling he wants to see us the way we really are. I think we’re pretty presentable most of the time.”
Mother laughed. “I hope so. All the same, I would have appreciated more time to spruce up.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I thought of something else.”
Katherine tried not to grimace at the thought of even more work. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I’ll need you to sweep the floors after you dust.”
“I will.” At the rate Mother was doling out assignments, Katherine feared the afternoon would melt into evening before she finished. “Um, Mother?”
“Yes?”
“After I do those chores, may I run to Miranda’s for a spell? I promise to keep my visit quick, and I’ll be glad to do anything else you need upon my return.”
“Oh, all right. I suppose so. But make it quick, now. And tell Betsy to come see me. I’ll be needing her help, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Katherine’s little sister was just about to escape to the outdoors when Katherine returned downstairs.
“Mother wants to see you,” Katherine informed her.
The brown-haired girl wrinkled her nose. “She wants me to do more chores, doesn’t she?”
“That’s a good guess. But I’m doing my part, too,” Katherine assured, holding up a dust rag. “I’ve got to cover the whole house. And I’ve got to sweep, too.” Katherine knew those facts would console her sister, who hated sweeping with a passion.
“I wonder what she wants me to do.”
“I don’t know, but the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done. Oh, and I’ll be going to Miranda’s as soon as I dust and sweep, but I’ll be back to do more chores. I’d like to bake a pie tonight if I have time.”
“Mother will want me to fetch the preserves from the cellar, then.” Betsy’s voice brightened. “Oh, and tell Miranda I said hello. Did she get her new charm yet?”
“What charm?”
“She was supposed to get a new charm for her bracelet. An aunt was going to send her a souvenir from her trip to Egypt.”
“Egypt!” Katherine couldn’t imagine visiting somewhere so exotic. “No, she hasn’t said anything yet.”
“She’s hoping for a new charm, but her aunt didn’t promise. It might be something else. But you can ask her.” Betsy sighed. “I hope I can have a bracelet as pretty as that one someday.”
Katherine grinned. “Maybe someday you will.”
A short while later as she finished her dusting and sweeping, Katherine glanced at the kitchen wall clock. It told her that Miranda was likely to be occupied with her own weekly dusting. “I won’t bother Miranda if I drop in. I can talk to her as she works,” she muttered to herself. She slid out the back door, an early summer breeze tickling her face.
After bicycling across the road, Katherine found herself moments later visiting the Henderson house, a large brick affair complete with a carriage house and separate guesthouse.
She found Miranda dusting her family’s formal parlor, a much larger room than the modest area of the Joneses’ house.
Miranda stopped her chore and urged Katherine to take a seat beside her on the velvet sofa. “I have to say, you seem excited.”
Katherine sat—but not still. “I am! You’ll never guess what news I have!”
“What?”
She took Miranda’s hands in hers. “Otis is coming here for a visit!”
Miranda took her hands out of Katherine’s. “After all this time?”
“Yes. Can you believe it?” Katherine had to suppress herself from clapping.
“No. Yes. I mean, I don’t know.” Miranda embraced her. “Oh, Katherine! This is wonderful! Do you think he means to court you?”
“I—I don’t know. Perhaps.” She averted her gaze to a blue Oriental rug.
“How splendid!” But her friend’s exuberance only lasted a moment before her mouth opened into an uncertain circle. “Uh oh.”
Katherine froze. “Uh oh? What do you mean?”
It was Miranda’s turn to avert her glance. She studied her hands. Even though Miranda was merely engaged in household drudgery, she nevertheless wore her ubiquitous gold charm bracelet that Betsy had mentioned. Miranda also wore two rings. One was set with a sapphire and the other with a pearl and two diamonds barely visible to the human eye. “I’m afraid there’s something I have to tell you.”
Katherine sat beside Miranda. Fear engulfed her, but she had to know the reason for Miranda’s sudden change of mood. “What?”
Miranda took a minute to compose herself before she spoke. “You know how I think—in fact I know—you’re a fine woman. Any man would be fortunate to court you.”
Such flattery from the self-absorbed Miranda pricked Katherine with suspicion. She let her friend continue unabated.
“And I know how you’ve always wanted to play the banjo and harp, and that you wish you had kept up with your dancing skills, that you long to play the piano like a graduate of Juilliard, and that you wish you were as good with horses as I am.”
Katherine sighed. “Yes. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? But alas, it is only a dream. And I certainly don’t see what this has to do with Otis’s visit.” An uneasy feeling overcame her, leaving her with a sudden desire to flee.
Miranda kept her riveted. “Yet you are so accomplished in your own right. You sew a fine s
eam, and your cooking is rivaled only by your dear mother’s.”
“You’re making me blush. Please, don’t flatter me.” Her friend’s compliments, while she knew them to be sincere, alarmed her.
“But it’s true! And Otis should appreciate all those fine things about you. And he’ll appreciate you even more when you show him how well you play the harp, ride a horse, play the piano, and dance.”
“I beg your pardon?” Katherine felt the color run off from her face. “When I show him what?”
Miranda cleared her throat. “All the things you said you always wanted to be.”
“But Miranda! I only shared those thoughts with you in confidence. Of course it would be wonderful to be so accomplished, but developing those skills takes work. Years of work. I haven’t made the time or effort to earn the right to claim any of those talents. And I never would.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
“So. . .”
“So I—well, you know I was writing to Otis, too.”
“Yes, you kept that no secret. And he is a free man. He can write to anyone he likes. But I still don’t see the connection you seem to be trying to make.”
“Otis never detailed our correspondence to you?”
Katherine shrugged. “I see no reason why he owed me any explanation about your letter exchange. As I said, he’s a free man, and I trust you as a friend.”
Miranda blanched. “Your trust was not misplaced. Not exactly. In fact, I said nothing but flattering things about you.”
“You talked about me? I can’t imagine why. Not after you chastised me about my letters being a bore. Whatever could you have said about me that he would find enthralling?” An unwanted thought struck her mind. “Unless. . .oh, Miranda, you didn’t make up wild stories about imaginary accomplishments of mine, did you?”
When her friend didn’t rush to reassure Katherine, she knew they were both in trouble.
“Miranda!”
Miranda grimaced and then lifted her finger in a victorious way. “Never fear. I didn’t exaggerate. Not much.”
A groan flew from Katherine’s lips. “Why did you feel the need to exaggerate at all?”
“Well. . .I wanted to cheer him up. And believe you me, I did! I told him how wonderful you are and about your many talents,” said the matchmaking friend.
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