by Delia Parr
“I may as well take the opportunity right now, unless you had something else in mind for the afternoon,” he suggested.
“Actually, I was hoping I could stop and see how Reverend Glenn is faring. If I wait for you, we could go together.”
Zachary shook his head. “I’m not sure how long my conversation with Wryn might take. Why don’t you go see the Glenns and meet me back at my house? Since you haven’t seen anything other than my office, I’d like you to take a tour of the house before you make your decision to sell Hill House,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand.
Determined to be fair, she could not think of an excuse to put off the inevitable. “If your conversation with Wryn doesn’t last very long, come to the Glenns’, but if you’re not there by the time I finish my visit, I’ll meet you at your house,” she promised.
* * *
Emma lugged the goodies from Mother Garrett into Aunt Frances’ kitchen. The late afternoon sunshine brightened the room, but it also shined doubt that Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn were going to be able to live there on their own.
“Just set your bag on the table, Emma dear, and don’t mind the muss,” Aunt Frances said as she followed Emma into the room. “With Reverend Glenn feeling poorly today and with my bones aching something fierce off and on, I haven’t been able to keep up with my housekeeping.”
Emma took a quick glance around as she walked toward the kitchen table, kicking up a bit of dust and dirt along the way. Several pots on the cookstove needed scrubbing, and a pile of bed linens on the floor waited to be laundered. There were no dishes in the sink, but judging from the dishes stacked on the side tables, Aunt Frances had not stored her clean dishes away for several days.
She was dismayed by how quickly it had become apparent that Aunt Frances and Reverend Glenn were not going to be able to care for themselves, as well as the cottage, on their own. Not without help.
By the time she’d set the canvas bag on the table, Aunt Frances was standing on the other side, her face bright with anticipation. “I don’t mean to slight the good folks who sent a few meals over when we first took up housekeeping here, but I don’t think I’ve had a really good meal since I left Hill House.”
Emma lifted out the tin of cookies on top and handed it to Aunt Frances and smiled, although she was disappointed to learn that the generosity of the members of the congregation had already waned. “I’m not sure how Mother Garrett managed to hide a few cookies from those grandchildren of mine, but she did.”
Aunt Frances peeked into the tin. “Molasses cookies!”
“There are sugar cookies in this one,” Emma said, then lifted out a good chunk of pumpernickel bread and a crock of vegetable soup. “This is what we had for dinner today. You and Reverend Glenn might enjoy this for supper.”
Aunt Frances moistened her lips. “We surely, surely will. Would you have time for a cup of tea? Reverend Glenn shouldn’t be napping for much longer, and I know he’d be very disappointed if you left before you had a chance to visit with him, too.”
“No, thank you. But if you’d like some tea—”
“Not particularly. I’d rather just sit and chat. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you,” Aunt Frances replied. She looked around the kitchen and frowned. “Why don’t we go into the parlor, where there isn’t so much muss?”
Emma slipped out of her cape and draped it across the back of one of the chairs. “Why don’t you sit and rest while I tidy up a bit?”
Aunt Frances dropped her gaze and ran a finger round and round the rim of the tin of cookies she had just set back onto the table. “Did you ever make a mistake, Emma? I mean a really terrible mistake that kept you up at night, every night?”
Emma’s throat tightened. The defeated form standing across the table from her bore little resemblance to the feisty woman who had shown up on her doorstep at Hill House last fall. Reluctant to admit, even to herself, she may have made a mistake by accepting Zachary’s proposal before she knew of his expectations about their life together, she gripped the back of the chair in front of her. “I’m sure I have.”
When Aunt Frances looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. “I’m such an old fool,” she whispered.
Emma walked around the table and put her arm around the elderly woman’s shoulders. “Now, why would you say something like that?”
“B-because it’s true and because I just don’t know what I’m going to do if Reverend Glenn finds out he’s married to a . . . a foolish old woman who should have had better sense. . . .”
“You’ve got more good sense in a single hair on your head than most people, including me,” Emma said. “What’s wrong?”
“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul,” Aunt Frances whispered. “Promise me you won’t.”
“Not even Mother Garrett?” Emma asked, doubtful that Aunt Frances meant to exclude her mother-in-law, considering the strong friendship between the two elderly women.
Aunt Frances dropped her gaze for a moment. “Mercy’s been so busy lately, she hasn’t been to visit us, but I think she has an inkling of what’s happening here. We talked about it some before I left Hill House, and you can tell her. But no one else. No one.”
Emma swallowed hard, anxious to get to the root of the trouble in Aunt Frances’ life. “I promise.”
Aunt Frances let out a sigh. “If you want to know what’s wrong, just look around. Have you ever seen such muss in your life? Do you think Reverend Glenn ever had to live this way when he was married to Letty or when he lived with you at Hill House?”
“When Reverend Glenn was married to his first wife, they were both much younger than either of you are now. And there isn’t any muss at Hill House because I have two very strong young women who help me keep it that way, not to mention that I don’t have to worry about cooking because Mother Garrett takes care of all our meals. You’re just feeling a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. You haven’t had your own home for a good many years.”
“No I haven’t, which is for the good. I can see that now. My sons were right, you know. I was too old to live on my own, and I should have realized that instead of being resentful when I had to live with them. And I should have realized that when Reverend Glenn asked me to marry him and live with him here. I don’t have the energy to cook and clean for him like I thought I would, and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.”
“The first thing you’re going to do is sit down right over here,” Emma insisted as she guided her aunt-by-affection to her rocking chair. She pulled Reverend Glenn’s rocking chair in front of Aunt Frances and took her hands in her own. “Have you talked about this with Reverend Glenn?”
Aunt Frances blinked back tears. “No, I haven’t. I can’t, you see. He can’t live alone, and the only reason he was able to accept the opportunity to become assistant pastor was because I agreed to marry him and keep house for him.”
“No. He asked you to marry him because he had developed a great deal of affection for you. He wanted a helpmate and a companion, not a housekeeper. Are you happy together or not?”
“Yes, we’re happy with one another, but that’s not always enough. Not when there are meals to cook and rooms to clean and laundry that needs washing,” she said as she looked down at her sewing basket and sighed. “I haven’t threaded a needle since we moved here, either.”
Emma drew in a long breath. “You and Reverend Glenn are always welcome to come back to Hill House, which is what I promised you both many times, remember?” she asked, mindful of another reason why she would be reluctant to part with Hill House.
Aunt Frances squeezed Emma’s hands. “I know we are, but moving back there wouldn’t do anything but invite gossip about the foolish old woman who couldn’t properly care for her husband. Living at Hill House again would put Reverend Glenn too far from the center of town and the members of the congregation who need him here.”
“Then the answer is simple. We need to get someone to come in each day to help you.”
“I—we couldn’t do that.”
“Why not? I have help. Why shouldn’t you?”
“Because the expense would be too great, and don’t say you’ll bear it for us, because I won’t let you do that and neither will Reverend Glenn. And you can’t spare Liesel or Ditty every day, either, which means there is no answer,” she replied. “While I’m thinking of it, though, I’ve got that pretty shawl Wryn gave me right over there,” she said, pointing to the corner. “I’ve wrapped it up in an old sheet, along with the knife she gave Reverend Glenn. Be sure to take them with you so they can be returned.”
Aunt Frances’ request suddenly opened the gate to one of the paths Emma had been searching for. “Actually, I think there might be an answer,” she whispered as Wryn came to mind. “There just might be.”
“Well, look at this. I take a bit of a nap and wake up to find Emma sitting in my rocking chair.”
Emma looked up to find Reverend Glenn standing in the doorway with Butter right by his side. “I wanted to make sure you were feeling better,” she said and got up from her seat.
The elderly minister was perhaps a bit pale, but he walked over to join them as steady as he ever was at Hill House. “Can you chat with me awhile, or do you two ladies need time alone?”
“Sit and chat with us,” Emma urged.
And chat they did. By the time Emma left them, it was nearly dusk, and she was anxious to get back to her family at Hill House. She hurried toward Zachary’s house to ask him if they could postpone their plans to tour his house, although she did want to make time to learn how he had fared talking with Wryn.
She turned off Main Street onto Coulter Lane and was a square away from his house when she saw him coming out the front door.
He waved and met her halfway, but she had to wait until a wagon passed to cross the street to meet him. “I’m sorry. I stayed much, much longer than I planned.”
“It’s not a problem. I was going to apologize to you. I had an unexpected meeting with a client and only finished up ten minutes ago. Do you have time to come back to the house now, or would you rather wait until tomorrow?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d rather stop tomorrow. I’m hoping Warren will be arriving in the morning, so I’m planning on getting down to the landing by eleven. If I left earlier and stopped on my way, say at ten o’clock, would you be free then?”
“I would. I’ll try to send Widow Ellis out on an errand by then, too, although I may have to go with her to get her to leave. The front door will be open, so just go in if I don’t answer your knock. May I walk you home?”
“I was hoping you’d offer. I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” she replied and took his arm. “I have an idea, but I’d like your advice before I do anything about it.”
He stiffened. “No legal advice, remember?”
“Of course, I remember. If I need legal counsel, I’ll see Mr. Larimore, but for right now, I need some commonplace advice. I have an idea for Wryn and the Glenns that just might turn that young woman around faster than anything else so she can go home with Mark and Catherine to Albany.”
That brought a smile to his lips.
Hers, too.
19
EMMA NEVER ACCEPTED WEARINESS as an excuse when faced with an important task.
At the end of this very tumultuous day, with everyone else either abed or preparing for bed, she was sorely tempted to simply plop into her own and postpone her last task until morning. She climbed the stairs from her office one slow step at a time, more to accommodate her own tiredness than to be careful in the weak glow of light coming from the lamp in her bedroom at the top of the stairs. Learning Zachary’s expectations for their lives together after they married, including his refusal to live at Hill House, had been a shock. Benjamin’s arrival with his family had been a much more pleasant surprise, but learning about Aunt Frances’ situation was still very troubling.
She slipped into her room, shut the door, and leaned back against it. Compared to the more elaborately furnished rooms she offered to family and guests, her room was small and simple with a single bed covered with a quilt, a battered old wardrobe her grandmother had brought with her to Candlewood, and a trunk where she now stored precious mementos from her life instead of baby clothes. The pale green walls were soothing to her spirit.
Covering a yawn, she took the packages out of the corner of her room and set out the purchases Wryn had made on her bed. Or what was left of them. She put the empty box of chocolates, as well as the half-eaten one, on top of her pillow. She couldn’t very well hold Wryn accountable for those, since she wouldn’t have eaten a few if Emma hadn’t opened the boxes in the first place.
She left the bonnet in the box without bothering to look at it and set it in the middle of the bed. Next, she found the delicately beaded reticule and laid it next to the bonnet. When she untied the package from the General Store, which had obviously been tied and untied before, she found a few sewing needles, two spools of white thread, and two tins of licorice root.
Emma shook her head. “When Addie told me Wryn had gotten two tins of sweets, I never imagined these are what she meant. She and Mr. Atkins must think we’re serving this stuff for meals. No wonder they ran out of it,” she muttered and laid the purchases on the other side of the bonnet. Convinced that not all of Wryn’s purchases were accounted for, she paused for a moment to recount what she could remember was missing. “Butter ate the beef jerky, but the knife she gave to Reverend Glenn is downstairs, along with Aunt Frances’ shawl.”
Letting out a sigh, she retraced her steps, returned to her office to retrieve the package, and carried it back upstairs to her room. She then laid the knife and shawl out on the bed next to the needles and thread.
Now that she had everything set out, she sat down on the trunk at the foot of her bed to wait for Wryn. According to Zachary, he and Wryn had had an open, frank talk with each other, although he had not provided her with any specific details. Since Wryn had come to the table for supper, as she had promised Zachary, Emma hoped the young woman would keep her promise to meet with her here tonight.
She slipped her hand into her pocket while she was waiting, felt for the new keepsakes she had added only yesterday, and smiled. Catherine had cut small pieces of soft flannel from the sheets used to soften the bottom of the cradles where Jonas and Paul had slept as newborn babes. In turn, Emma had cut them again and sewn them side by side to make a single piece. She had done that, as well, to the pieces of cotton cut from the blankets that had swaddled her precious grandsons.
Although her keepsakes helped to remind her of her blessings, she remained confused and troubled about God’s will for her future. After praying that she might follow the path He had chosen for her to follow with Wryn, she asked Him to guide her, as well, to make the right decision about whether or not to agree to sell Hill House and marry Zachary Breckenwith. Is that what He truly wanted for her? And if He did, what work did He want her to do for Him? Or had she made a mistake? Did He want her to remain here at Hill House, as she had always thought?
She had scarcely finished her prayers when she heard a soft rap at the door. “Come in.”
Mother Garrett poked her head inside. “I know you’re expecting Wryn, but I just wanted to say that I’ve had time to think about what you told me . . . about Frances . . . and I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”
“Of course you can.” Emma stood up and ushered her mother-in-law into the room. “I’m afraid there isn’t any place for us to sit together on the bed, but you can use the trunk.”
Mother Garrett glanced at Wryn’s booty on the bed. “Don’t bother holding her accountable for that licorice root. I’ll take those, and you can just put something on my account to cover the cost.”
Emma chuckled and handed the two tins to her mother-in-law. “Done, although I’m not going to worry about the cost of these.”
Mother Garrett nodded. “It’s a bit awkward to sa
y this, Emma, but we’ve never let things fester between us and I don’t want that to happen now.”
Emma’s heartbeat pulsed in her veins. “If it’s about my getting married again and how that will affect you, I thought I—”
“No, it’s not that. I know I have a place with you,” Mother Garrett argued. “You’ve already made that clear.”
Relieved, Emma felt her heart slip back into a more normal rhythm. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Frances and Reverend Glenn, even before you told me what she’d said this afternoon. Even though she’s a good bit older than I am, I’m still not as young as I used to be. As long as we’re here at Hill House, I’d like to make a change or two in the way we do things.”
Emma swallowed hard. “If you need more help in the kitchen than Liesel or Ditty can give you, I’ve told you before that I would hire someone new.”
“You may have to do that, but it’s not because the work is too much for me. I want to get some time each week just to myself without worrying about what meals need to be prepared.”
Emma’s cheeks flushed with guilt for not insisting when they had moved here that her mother-in-law had time off from her work. Mother Garrett was usually frank, if not outspoken, and Emma was surprised she had not brought the matter up before now. “You can have as much time for yourself as you need. What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“If I had my druthers, I’d like to do what Liesel and Ditty do and have Saturday afternoons and Sundays free, except I’d be home to sleep here Saturday night. But since that isn’t likely to suit—”
“We’ll make it suit. I’m only sorry we didn’t talk about this sooner. I hope it hasn’t been troubling you for very long.”
Mother Garrett shrugged. “Don’t be too sorry. The thought just occurred to me this afternoon.”
Emma nodded. Now she understood. “Since I talked with you about Aunt Frances?”
A long sigh. “The older I get, the more I realize there are only two, no, three—things that truly matter in life. Following the Word is the most important, but family and friends matter more than anything else. I haven’t had a friend like Frances. Ever. She needs me, Emma, and I want to be able to help her and Reverend Glenn. But I know you need me, too. I know it wouldn’t be easy for you not to have me here on weekends, but I could make some meals ahead and see if that works.”
