Macia couldn’t believe what had happened. She jumped to her feet and retrieved the broken pieces of porcelain, for the rug had done little to protect the fine piece of glassware. Thankfully none of the other gifts had been damaged.
As quickly as she’d committed the deed, Fern’s demeanor changed. She hastened to request forgiveness from both of them, and although Lucy hesitated, she finally acquiesced. There was little doubt Fern wanted the matter concealed from Jeb and forgotten. And though Macia quickly decided she wouldn’t speak to him regarding the incident, Fern’s behavior had been disconcerting. Lucy’s wrist still bore a red circle where Fern had grabbed her.
Before exiting the room, Fern forced Lucy to agree to come and talk before the girl departed for home. Likely she wanted assurance nothing would be reported to Jeb.
When they heard Fern’s footsteps retreating down the back stairs, Lucy carefully fingered the pieces of broken porcelain. Tears glistened in her eyes and then slowly trailed down her cheeks. “Why does she have to be so mean?” The words were a mere whisper.
Macia opened her arms and Lucy leaned into her embrace. “Don’t you worry, dear. I can find you another piece of chinaware every bit as pretty as that one.”
Lucy sniffed. “She doesn’t like me, Macia. She wants Jeb, but she doesn’t want me. After they’re married, I’m afraid she’ll be unkind to me all the time. Then what shall I do?”
Lucy once again rested her head against Macia’s shoulder, her thin frame wracked with hiccoughs as she wept. The girl’s fresh tears dampened the shoulder of Macia’s shirtwaist, and she pulled Lucy closer. She longed to say or do something to relieve the girl’s pain and fear. But for the moment, it seemed what Lucy needed most was the warmth of an embrace and the knowledge that someone truly cared about her.
Reaching up, Macia stroked Lucy’s flaxen hair. “You will always be welcome wherever I am, Lucy, and you know that Jeb loves you more than anyone in the world. He would never let anybody hurt you.” It was true. Jeb had cared for Lucy ever since their parents had died. He would do anything to protect his little sister.
Lucy drew in a shaky breath and released Macia from her hold. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, Macia tenderly wiped Lucy’s face and then tucked an errant strand of hair behind one ear.
“I’d best get home before Jeb begins to worry.”
Lucy’s voice warbled as she spoke, and Macia hastened to lighten the mood before fresh tears began to flow. “Let me gather your gifts together. I believe I have a small basket you can borrow to carry them.” Macia patted the girl’s shoulder. “It will give you an excuse to return for another visit.”
Lucy’s lower lip trembled. “I’ll try to come back when Fern isn’t here.”
Macia placed a light kiss on the girl’s cheek and reminded her of Fern’s earlier admonition. “Best you stop by the kitchen on your way out of the house. Fern’s expecting you. It will only make matters more difficult if you slight her.”
A short time later, she heard the familiar bang and click of the front door as it closed. Her thoughts wandered back to her earlier discussion with Mrs. Johnson. Even if the German girl wanted to accept a position as their housekeeper, she must still locate work for Fern. This could prove nearly impossible, yet she wouldn’t give up hope. She opened the door of her bedroom closet, one of the delightful concessions her father had granted when they’d built their new house. Macia hadn’t wanted her gowns stuffed into wardrobes or hanging on pegs gathering dust. Her fingers trailed across the various fabrics until she reached the pale green silk dress. Pushing aside the gown on either side, she removed it from the closet, gave it a vigorous shake, and spread it upon her bed. Velvet tucks covered with beige lace lined the bodice and gave the dress a special look that she particularly liked. Just today Garrett had selected the dark green silk fabric at his aunt’s store, so perhaps he would think this gown comely. She would wear it for their supper engagement this evening.
After giving the gown one final look of approval, Macia peeked in on her mother. The older woman’s soft snores were evidence Macia would not be taking tea with her mother this afternoon. Careful to avoid the squeaky floorboard outside her parents’ bedroom, she softly closed the door. It might be a good idea to pay a visit to her brother at the newspaper office. Harvey might know someone who had need of a housekeeper. Fern was a good worker, even if she was no longer a good choice for their household—at least not so far as Macia was concerned.
Stopping by her room, she picked up her cloak and spotted Fern walking up the back stairway with a tea tray. “Mother is sleeping and I’m going to the newspaper office. No need to set a place for me at supper as I’ll be dining out this evening.”
Fern gave a curt nod and retreated back down the stairs without comment. No wonder poor Lucy had been reduced to tears. Fern’s icy stare would wound even the hardest heart.
Sashaying toward the newspaper office, Macia loosened the top button of her cloak. The sun now shone brightly, and all evidence of the earlier chill had vanished from the air. Sunlight dappled the windows of Harvey’s office and formed tiny prisms that danced like colorful rainbows across the glass. The unexpected beauty caused her to smile as she entered the office.
When the bell over the door jingled merrily, Harvey looked up from his work. “Don’t you look happy.”
His pronouncement reminded Macia why she’d come. Her smile faded. “Happier than I truly feel. I’ve come to see if you can help me solve a problem.”
He tilted his wooden chair back on two legs and laughed aloud. “Now there’s a request I never thought I’d live to hear—my sister actually seeking my advice.”
Macia waved the comment away and launched into a full recital of the recent events involving Fern and Lucy. She remained forthright and honest as she explained her anxiety regarding Fern. “Though my initial reservations about Fern were due to my own embarrassment, I am truly worried that she may be cruel to Lucy. Yet if any of us say anything to Jeb, I’m afraid he will go directly to Fern with his questions.”
“And Fern will blame Lucy and make her life miserable.”
“Exactly. Even knowing all of this, my impression is that Father will not dismiss Fern unless she has the promise of employment elsewhere.”
The front legs of Harvey’s chair banged onto the wood floor as he dropped forward and stared out the front window. When Macia could bear the silence no longer, she waved her handkerchief in front of his face.
He frowned. “There’s no easy solution. Even if Fern leaves Father’s employ, it doesn’t resolve Lucy’s issue. This matter needs more thought than I can give it at the moment.” He waved his arm at the printing press. “I must get back to work, but I’ll try to come up with something.”
She thanked him and headed back outdoors. When she arrived home a short time later, her mother called her into the parlor. Though she had planned to go upstairs and read, Macia joined the older woman. “You’re looking well this afternoon, Mother.”
Mrs. Boyle thanked her and motioned for Macia to sit down and pour the tea. “Where have you been? I’ve been wondering.”
Macia frowned as Fern walked into the room. “Why didn’t you tell Mother I had gone to the newspaper office?”
“How could I? You didn’t tell me you were leaving the house.”
Macia gasped. The woman was boldly lying over an inconsequential matter. Did she hope to cause Macia difficulties with her own family members?
Taking up one of the china teacups, her mother bobbed her head in a placating manner. “We all forget things from time to time, my dear.”
Macia gritted her teeth. She quickly downed her tea and excused herself to dress for her evening supper with Garrett.
The day had been nothing short of disastrous. She hoped this evening would be the opposite. A quick glance at the clock revealed she had sufficient time to relax a bit before dressing. She lifted her Bible from the chest and opened the book. An audible sigh slipped from between her
lips as her eyes settled upon a passage in Romans.
“Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not.” A twinge of guilt pricked her heart. Perhaps if she reacted with kindness, Fern would see the error of her ways and treat Lucy with fondness. Macia closed her eyes and uttered a prayer for God’s help, for she would surely need it. She closed the Bible, and as she considered the ways in which she might show Christ’s love to Fern, she looked at her dress lying on her bed.
From her vantage point, the lace-covered bodice appeared to ripple in an unusual manner, and Macia moved closer to examine the gown. She gasped at the sight: the lace had been shredded and the velvet inserts slashed. Instead of the soft lace overlay and velvet tucks, gaping holes now decorated the bodice. Macia clenched her hands into tight fists. “Fern!” Her scream echoed off the walls. Grabbing the dress from her bed, Macia stomped out of the room and down the hallway. That evil woman had ruined her dress!
When she marched into the kitchen, Fern was complacently peeling potatoes as though she’d not heard a thing. Macia shoved the dress at her. “Why did you do this?”
Fern arched her eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is there something amiss with your gown?”
Macia ranted and raved until her mother entered the kitchen to investigate the fracas. Still, Fern continued to deny any knowledge of the misdeed.
“Maybe Lucy had something to do with this,” Fern told Mrs.
Boyle. “She’s the only other person who’s been in the house today.”
“The gown was perfectly fine when I placed it on my bed, and Lucy had already departed,” Macia argued.
Fern shrugged as she picked up another potato. “She might have come back later. Girls can be very sneaky when things don’t go their way.”
Macia seethed. “I know you did this, Fern, and you may be certain that the cost of this gown will be withheld from your wages.”
Turning away, Macia hurried back upstairs. So much for showing God’s love. So much for blessing those who persecuted her. Tears welled in her eyes. She had failed the first test.
CHAPTER
7
Nicodemus , Kansas • November 1882
The crisp day dawned bright without a hint of snow or sleet on the horizon. While Moses voiced his elation that the day had finally arrived, Truth privately nursed her fears. Election day! By this time tomorrow, the votes would be tallied and winning candidates announced. Though a final count of all the votes wouldn’t be received in Nicodemus until a later date, Truth’s ultimate fate would be sealed. She had lived in dread of this day since Moses’s return from Topeka and the announcement of his candidacy. Since that day, she had been praying. Soon she would have God’s answer.
Truth was probably the only soul in Nicodemus who hoped her husband would lose the election. The entire town wanted nothing more than to have one of their own hold statewide office. Particularly Miss Hattie. The woman had become an avid campaigner, brandishing her umbrella as she made her way through groups in the churchyard on Sundays or during her visits to the general store. There was no hesitation when she spoke of who should be elected state auditor— and no one dared contradict her.
Though Miss Hattie’s words weren’t eloquent, when she mentioned the railroad, everyone sat up and took heed. Of course, whether Moses could truly help bring the railroad to Nicodemus was highly questionable. However, the old woman’s rhetoric made it sound as though his election would make the railroad a shoo-in, as if the two went hand in hand. Truth didn’t understand why folks thought the state auditor position could help bring the railroad to Nicodemus, but she didn’t argue.
In addition to their move, Truth worried Moses’s new position would keep him away from home frequently. Although he’d assured her the assistant auditor would travel to the various county seats to examine any accounting irregularities or to investigate payment of arrearages for school lands, Truth remained unconvinced. Moses wasn’t a man who easily assigned such duties to others. After he was sworn into office, Truth envisioned the assistant auditor sitting in the Topeka office while Moses traveled the state resolving disputes.
Moses wouldn’t find satisfaction sitting in a stuffy office registering patents or compounding interest payments owed to the state. Truth didn’t doubt the sincerity of her husband’s promise, but she did doubt his ability to keep it. And that was cause for yet another worry.
Cast your cares on me.
She ignored the soft command. Instead, she repeated her continuing prayer. Please don’t let him win the election.
Folks in Nicodemus Township had decided early on that if Moses carried the vote in the western counties, he would ultimately carry the state. And the residents of Nicodemus didn’t plan to wait for the final results before holding their celebration. Though Truth had proposed they wait for the final outcome of the election before hosting the party, her suggestion had been immediately vetoed after church last Sunday. In fact, the congregation had acted as though she’d suggested a traitorous act. Rather than argue, she’d agreed the party would proceed as planned.
Truth tugged on the skirt of her ill-fitting dress. Although she’d let out the seams, it wouldn’t be long before she’d be relegated to less fashionable dresses that would accommodate her increasing figure. Hopefully, she would still be living in Nicodemus, where she could freely discuss her changing shape and the impending birth with her older sister. Having Jarena nearby would serve to lessen her fears. She slid her hand across the front of the wool skirt and attempted to imagine how she would look in January. If elected, Moses would be sworn into office on January 8. She uttered one final prayer before descending the stairs. There was much to prepare for this evening’s party.
She’d been in the kitchen only a short time when a knock sounded at the front door and was quickly followed by Miss Hattie’s unmistakable voice. Truth wilted as the older woman announced her presence. Why had she come calling at this hour of the day? The gathering wasn’t to begin until early evening.
Swiping her hands down her apron, Truth headed across the kitchen. She could hear the distinctive clomp of Miss Hattie’s heavy steps. Truth greeted the older woman and offered her a chair in the kitchen.
Miss Hattie dropped a food-laden basket atop the worktable and announced she was ready to do whatever she could to make the evening’s celebration a success. Truth groaned inwardly. Miss Hattie would be ordering her around for at least the next ten hours.
Before she could offer an objection to Miss Hattie’s early arrival, the older woman headed for the front door. “Calvin’s bringin’ in more food. I gotta go and make sure he don’t squash them pies.”
Truth shook her head. Miss Hattie’s son-in-law, Calvin, was no doubt pleased to be depositing the old woman on her doorstep for the remainder of the day. Once again, she wished Nellie had come calling instead of Miss Hattie. Calvin grinned as he entered the kitchen carrying the parcels of food. In a hushed voice, he warned Truth she’d best be careful not to squash Miss Hattie’s pies. Truth giggled.
When Calvin had completed his tasks, he kissed Miss Hattie’s weathered cheek and bid the duo farewell. “He’s off to cast his vote fer Moses.” Miss Hattie’s chest swelled as she made the announcement. “Now, les get busy. Don’t look like you got much food ready for all them people that’s gonna be coming to offer congratulations.”
Truth sucked in a deep breath. “Or their condolences. We can’t be certain just yet.”
Miss Hattie glowered as she extended her neck. She resembled an angry rooster primed for a fight. “You sho’ do bend with the wind, gal. When Moses come home from Topeka, I recall you sayin’ he was gonna win the election what with all them white fellas votin’ for him at the convention.”
No need to argue. At this point it would serve no purpose. Truth handed Miss Hattie an apron. “Why don’t we get started on this food?”
Miss Hattie nodded. “That’s fine. ’Sides, ain’t nothin’ more to say ’bout the election since we all kno
w Moses is gonna win.”
Truth sighed. Miss Hattie always had to have the last word.
As the day wore on, folks continued to gather, the guests becoming more boisterous as Truth’s energy waned. When Jarena arrived, she insisted Truth rest for the remainder of the day. Normally Truth wouldn’t agree to such a suggestion, but by midafternoon, her nerves were worn as thin as a threadbare dish towel. Being around Miss Hattie all day had taken its toll. She trudged upstairs and fell upon the bed.
Daylight had faded when Truth awoke with a start. The sound of laughter and loud voices drifted into the bedroom. Disoriented, she shifted her legs and sat on the edge of the bed. What time was it and who was causing the uproar downstairs? As soon as she asked herself the question, she remembered the party. Taking only a moment to arrange her hair, she walked to the top of the stairs and was greeted by a throng of visitors. She searched the crowd for Moses and then spotted him across the parlor. After waving him toward her, she started down the steps.
When she had nearly reached the bottom of the stairway, someone shouted, “Your husband has won the election, Truth! He left his opposition in the dust!”
Her knees buckled and she grabbed the handrail, thankful for the support. Moses reached her side and held her by the waist as she lowered herself onto the tread.
She looked up at him through a murky fog. “Is it true? Have they already announced your victory?”
Before Moses could respond, Miss Hattie waved her parasol in the air and ordered the guests to move back and give Truth room to breathe. Truth wished Miss Hattie would heed her own advice and join the crowd. Instead, she hovered nearby, fanning the air while issuing instructions to breathe in and out. Did the old woman truly think she’d forgotten how to breathe? How else did one breathe except in and out? Truth leaned close to Moses and suggested they go upstairs.
Daylight Comes Page 6
