Trusting Grace

by Maggie Brendan

  When there was some free time between customers to talk, Eli turned to Robert. “I can’t thank you enough for solving the puzzle of the missing shipments.”

  “I had help from the sheriff, but I’d had a suspicion for a while that there was something odd about Warren. I’m so glad that he didn’t do any more harm to Grace than he did,” Robert said.

  “Me too. John told me how he roughed her up. Is she doing okay?” Eli asked.

  “I think she is. We’re glad that it’s over and you should start getting your shipments now.”

  “I heard from Stella that the children’s aunt showed up on your front doorstep to take them with her. What did you do?” Eli asked.

  “After a lot of soul-searching, I said no. I’m their father by marriage legally now and will take care of them. I won’t be able to give them what she could, but the kids said they’d be happier with me.”

  Eli clapped him on the back. “Son, you did the right thing, and I could tell those kids were starting to be your family.”

  “Family. I never thought of it exactly that way, but you’re right. Now if I can find them a mother, they’ll do even better.”

  “I have an idea you’ve already thought about that, but I promise not to pry.” Eli smiled at him.

  “Changing the subject, could you help me put the word out that Grace wants to hire some extra help for the potato harvest? I want to get some men lined up to help us with that.”

  “Will do, Robert. I’ll send them to you. There’s always someone passing through looking for money until they find steady work. I’ll loan her an extra plow for digging too. Maybe that’ll help out.”

  “It certainly would.” Robert glanced over to where Tom was busy trying to wait on customers. He chuckled. “I guess we’d better get to work before Tom runs away.”

  38

  The first week of August the harvest was suddenly upon Bidwell Farms. The weather was hot but bearable. Robert had been able to secure several extra hands to help them and Grace prayed the harvest would bring enough to pay them with money left over to live on. It would be a very long day for certain.

  She watched Robert, in his broad-brim straw hat with his sleeves rolled up, at the end of one plow turning over the soil to expose the potatoes while workers came behind him, lifting the potatoes gently with pitchforks or shovels to place them onto the wagon Tom drove. Owen was at the opposite side of the acreage in charge of carrying out the same task with the borrowed plow from Eli. As Robert promised, Grace and the girls delivered water to the workers, but mainly worked on cooking up a big lunch for everyone.

  Her father promised that he wouldn’t stay out in the heat for long periods of time. Since he’d been drinking quinine as Dr. Avery suggested and taking the baths at the hot springs often, his legs had become stronger most days, and he had less pain than before.

  He waved to her from across the field and Grace waved back to him. Stella had become a good friend and a great companion for her father, and Grace was grateful.

  She turned and went back to the porch where she had Becky shelling peas and Sarah helping. “Are you nearly through? I’ll need to get those peas cooking shortly.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But, goodness, shelling makes my fingers sore,” Becky complained.

  “Mine too,” whined Sarah.

  “Oh poo. You’ve hardly shelled anything. You’re such a baby,” Becky insisted.

  “Am not!” Sarah stomped her foot.

  Grace reached for the bowl. “Now, girls. I’ll finish here. Why don’t you go offer the men some water again? Then when you get back we’ll start lunch.”

  “Do I have to?” Sarah asked. “I can’t cook.”

  “Then I’ll let you carry the plates and forks outside, and we’ll set up some sort of tables to put the food on.”

  “Okay. I can do that.” Sarah smiled up at Grace.

  Her big sister shook her head and went to the well to pump the water with Sarah skipping behind her. Grace smiled to herself. She realized children loved to pick at each other, but she’d usually been able to keep them from fighting when an argument started. Never having a sibling when she grew up, Grace was fascinated at their interaction, knowing at the bottom of it all, love won out.

  Grace and Becky carried out the platter of fried chicken, a bowl of peas loaded with ham, a large bowl of rice, and a pan of hot biscuits, placing them on a table made from sawhorses and boards that had been covered in a plain cotton tablecloth. Rhubarb pies for dessert sat cooling at the end of the table. Sarah rang the triangle—proud that she was able to reach it with the aid of a footstool.

  The men dropped their tools and made their way from the field to the well to wash up. Grace had left soap and towels for them to use next to the pump. Most of them splashed cold well water on their faces to cool themselves off as much as to clean up.

  Robert was last to take a plate, while the extra men sat on the porch steps to eat. Grace fixed one for her father before she got her own, and stood behind Robert while he filled his plate.

  “It’s going good, and we should be finished before dark, so I told them they’d get paid when the work was done, if that’s okay with you. The men are hard workers.”

  She nodded in agreement. “I’ll have that ready then.”

  “I asked Eli if I could have the week off to transport the crop to Virginia City for you, if you’d like. Your dad said he’d go too, but I fear it’s much too far for him. Tom can drive the other wagon, but it’s up to you.” Robert picked up a piece of chicken to add to the rest of the food on his plate.

  “I don’t mind at all, if you’ll let the girls stay here. I must confess they are good company for me, and you’re right, Pop would have a hard time taking a long trip. But how can you afford to take that much time off?”

  “I can, so don’t worry. I’m sure the girls would love to stay here with you. We’ll be here early in the morning since it’ll take us nearly two and a half days to drive the wagons to Virginia City.” He bit into his chicken as they sat on the grass under the shade of the cottonwood.

  “Our first picnic,” Grace teased and looked over at him.

  “Ha-ha! Yes, but not one that I would choose.” A smile twitched at the edge of his mouth.

  “And what kind would you choose?”

  “One that was far away from all this.” He waved his hand at everyone else. “A place where it was quiet except for the sound of the wind in the trees or a gurgling creek.”

  “Sounds lovely.” Grace’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. “What else might it include?”

  “Oh, perhaps a pretty woman to keep me company.” He bit into a biscuit with a grin.

  “Have anyone in mind?” She flashed him a smile.

  “Oh, she’s tall with a sprinkle of freckles and a cut on her cheek and bakes a mean rhubarb pie.”

  Grace laughed. “You know, you’re about the only one that can make me laugh.”

  He bowed slightly. “Then I’m happy to oblige.” When he fixed his gaze on her and lingered, Grace’s breath caught.

  With the men on their way to Virginia City, Grace planned to teach the girls to quilt. In the evenings, she’d been quilting a baby blanket for Ginny, so when she pulled it out to show them, they oohed with awe at the beautiful pattern.

  “It’s lovely,” Becky whispered, fingering the quilt. “And soft.”

  “Would you like to help me finish it? Then this week we can take it to Ginny and surprise her.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” Becky exclaimed.

  “Me too?” Sarah asked.

  “I tell you what—I’m going to give you both a scrap of fabric and show you how it’s done. The stitches are very tiny so we’ll see how you do.” Grace handed them each a needle and thread along with a scrap of material.

  After several attempts, Becky began to sew tiny stitches but not in a straight line. “Very good, Becky, but you have to keep the stitches nice and tidy. See, look at my piece.”

  “I’ll tr
y.” Becky bent her head over the piece with her tongue sticking out between her lips in total concentration, while Sarah looked on with serious interest.

  “That’s much better, Becky. Let me see you try, Sarah.”

  Sarah’s little hand held the material underneath as she stuck the needle through the scrap. Then she winced. “Ouch!” Jerking her hand from underneath, blood spouted on her small finger. She immediately put her finger to her lip, sucking the blood away with tears in her eyes.

  “Let me see.” Grace reached for her hand. “Oh, that’s not so bad. Let me kiss it.” She touched the little hand and fingers to her lips.

  Sarah smiled and said, “It feels better now, but I think I’d rather watch.”

  “That’s okay, but sometimes there’s pain to go with learning a new skill. For now, you can go feed Bluebelle and Paddy if you want to. Just call their names. You know where I keep the feed in the barn.”

  Sarah hopped up and handed Grace the scrap. “I’ll go look for them right now.”

  In a few days, Grace had finished the quilt, and she and the girls were quite pleased with the outcome. “Pop, we’re going to go to town to see Ginny today and take the baby quilt. Would you like to come?” Grace asked shortly after breakfast.

  “I don’t mind if I do come, but not to see Ginny. No offense, but maybe you could drop me at Stella’s?” Owen answered.

  Grace giggled. “Of course. I didn’t think you’d want to be with us girls talking about baby things.”

  “Whew! I’m relieved.” Owen flashed her a teasing grin. “Let’s get going, then,” he said, standing up with the aid of his new cane.

  They all piled in the buggy Grace had hitched earlier to Cinnamon and rumbled down the lane to town. Just like family, Grace thought. A bounty of potatoes was harvested, her father was feeling better most days, the children hadn’t gone with their aunt, and her own life had been spared. Feeling grateful and very happy, she hoped things would slow down for a while.

  Ginny, the ever-gracious Southern hostess, was tickled when Grace and the girls showed up and immediately sent Nell for refreshments. “I’m so happy that y’all didn’t leave,” she told the girls. “Grace would’ve been very sad.”

  “And so would we,” Becky affirmed.

  “We brought you something, Miss Ginny.” Sarah looked over at Grace with a nod.

  “Yes, we did, and the girls helped me finish it.” She pulled the wrapped quilt from behind her back and handed it to Ginny. “It’s just a little something for the baby.”

  Ginny asked, “Shall I open it now?”

  “Yes, of course.” Grace nodded.

  They stood around as Ginny unwrapped the gift. Ginny’s sharp intake of breath showed her surprise. “Why, Grace, it’s beautiful.” She stared down at the beautiful patchwork pattern in soft hues of blue, green, and pale pink. “I’ll treasure it and the baby will love being snuggled under it.” She hugged her friend, then the girls, with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t ask for anything more special . . . something made with love.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Since we are in the dark as to whether this will be a boy or girl, I decided to use the soft pastels so it wouldn’t matter either way.” Grace was proud that Ginny loved her quilt and all the work that went into it late at night when she’d rather have been in bed.

  Nell entered with a tray of refreshments. When she spied the quilt, she picked it up. “It’s beautiful, Miss Grace. I wish I knew how to quilt but never had time to learn, what with working and all . . .”

  “Then I can teach you like I did the girls. It’s not hard, but practice makes the stitches uniform so the quilt becomes a work of art.”

  “What an excellent, idea, Grace. We should start a quilting circle,” Ginny said, holding the small of her back. “Excuse me while I sit.”

  “I’d try to find time to come if it was after my work here was done,” Nell said.

  “I’ll bet you Stella would let us meet in her large parlor at the boardinghouse,” Grace said, thinking ahead. She liked the idea a lot. “Then you wouldn’t have to drive out to the farm, Nell. I’ll ask and tell you what she says.”

  “Better enjoy the tea while it’s hot. I’ve got work to do. Please excuse me. Oh, and let me know whenever you decide on a quilting circle,” Nell said over her shoulder as she scooted out.

  Grace poured the tea and they all sat down, chatting. She told Ginny about harvesting the potatoes and Robert and Tom driving them to market.

  Ginny’s lip curled into a smile above her teacup. “Sounds as though Robert intends to be around for a while.” She was careful to lower her voice while the girls were playing checkers in the corner.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Grace sighed. “He indicated that when the harvest was over, he’d be leaving, but that was right after he came to work for me.”

  “Do I detect a note of regret?”

  Grace gazed at her friend with a frank look. “I suppose so.” She told Ginny about their drive to the ridge one evening. “He still seems unsure of the thought of us but his actions reflect that he cares for me.”

  “He’ll come around. Remember, his first wife hurt him pretty badly,” Ginny commented, then shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Grace set her teacup down.

  “I . . . uh . . . I’m not sure. I—” A sharp cry escaped her lips and the girls looked around. “Maybe not. Could you get me up to bed, Grace? I suddenly don’t feel well.”

  The girls hopped up from their checker game. “Is Miss Ginny sick?” Becky asked.

  Immediately, Grace was at Ginny’s side, supporting her with her arm across her shoulder to help her from the chair. Ginny winced again, holding her abdomen. “I think it’s the baby.” Beads of perspiration popped out across her upper lip.

  “Sarah, run to get Nell for me, please,” Grace barked. “Becky, do you remember how to get to Frank’s office?”

  Becky nodded, her eyes wide in alarm.

  “Then please go get him and tell him to bring Dr. Avery with him.”

  The girls took off with their assignments, eager to help.

  39

  Grace yanked back the bedcovers, then loosened Ginny’s skirt and blouse—just then noticing a puddle of liquid by the bed. “Good heavens, Ginny, what’s that?”

  Ginny looked numbly at the floor. “My water broke. Could you please get a nightgown from the bureau for me?” she muttered through clenched teeth, then closed her eyes in pain.

  For a moment, Grace couldn’t move. Lord, please don’t let anything happen until Doc Avery arrives! She found a nightgown and was pulling it over Ginny’s head when Nell opened the door.

  “Nell, her labor’s started, I think, but I’ve never had a baby, so—”

  Nell walked over to help Grace get Ginny into the bed. “I’m not surprised. The baby’s right on time, if not a wee bit early.”

  “Have you ever deliver—?”

  Grace’s question was cut short by a scream that shattered the afternoon silence. Her heart gripped her. Oh, Lord, what can I do? She felt totally unprepared and inadequate.

  “I’m sure the doc will be here any moment. Stay with her and I’ll get clean linens and hot water—things I know he’ll need.” Nell hurried out and down the stairs.

  Grace wanted to ask Nell to please stay, but that was being silly. There was time.

  She walked over to the pitcher on the washstand and poured water over a washcloth, then wrung it out. The room was stifling hot, so she rolled up her sleeves and opened a window. Ginny was fretting more and breathing hard as Grace applied the washcloth to her forehead, then her face.

  “Ooh, Grace . . . my contractions are hard and getting closer.” Suddenly her abdomen tightened in a hard ball. “Oh my, oh my . . . I think the baby’s coming.”

  There was nothing else Grace could do but pull back the cover exposing Ginny’s lower half. Modestly peeking, Grace confirmed it with a gasp.

  “VIRGINI
A! I think I see the baby’s head!” Grace spouted with excitement. “Where’s the doctor?”

  She looked around, then opened the door and scanned down the stairs. No one was in sight. Oh Lord, please don’t let me have to do this alone. “Nell!” she yelled.

  But Grace couldn’t wait as Ginny hollered again. “Please, Grace . . . help!” Ginny thrashed and strained in the bed.

  Instinctively, Grace did the only thing she knew to do. “Ginny, listen to me. Take a deep breath, then pull your legs up so I can help you,” she ordered. She ran to the pitcher and washed her hands, quickly returning to checking the baby’s progress.

  “Oh, Ginny, your baby’s coming! PUSH!”

  It was all over in a matter of minutes. Grace witnessed the most incredible sight—the miracle of birth. Ginny cried out one last time, half-sitting, and with one big push brought her baby into the world. Grace cried with happiness as she held the tiny, slippery baby in her hands, its umbilical cord still attached. “It’s a little girl, Ginny! A perfect little girl.”

  The baby began to wail, so she held her up for Ginny to see, and Ginny burst out sobbing without saying a word. Nell ran in with the hot water and linen, pure shock on her face. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a birthing happen that fast. A sweet baby girl, Miss Ginny.” Nell fawned over the baby as she tied off the cord. “Here, you want to cut the umbilical cord, Grace? You deserve the honor.”

  “I can’t do—”

  Nell roared with laughter. “Honey, you just delivered a live baby. That’s a miracle in itself, so I think you can cut the cord.” She handed Grace the clean scissors. “Go ahead.”

  Reluctantly, Grace neared the baby and with shaking hands, snipped the cord, separating the little one from her mother. She blew out a sigh of relief, suddenly tired. Nell took the baby and began cleaning her up while cooing to her. Grace glanced at Ginny, who lay spent on the pillows, but smiling as she watched Nell.

  “I’m naming her Grace,” Ginny choked out through her tears, looking at Grace.