You've got to see the upstairs, Camille. It's the handsomest suite of rooms you've ever seen.
But Jeremiah ' please ' This was awful. What would the people say when they saw them? But before she could say another thing, he had pulled her right into what appeared to be the master bedroom, all done in the most extravagant poufs of pink silk she had ever seen. She had never seen so much fabric in one room, and there were two beautiful French paintings on either side of the bed, and another over the mantel across from the bed. And from here, he led her into a tiny French boudoir with hand-painted wallpaper brought directly from Paris, and a dressing room full of mirrors, and the largest pink marble bathroom she'd ever seen, and beyond it another in dark green marble, presumably for the master of the house, and a wood-paneled study, and then suddenly they were back in the master bedroom again. And however uncomfortable she was to be in someone else's house, she was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the house that she almost didn't mind it. It was like eating chocolates and not being able to stop until you devoured the whole box, and all before your hostess came back into the room. It was like a dream and a nightmare all at once and she stared at Jeremiah now, in absolute rapture. Who lives here? Not that she'd know the name, but she'd remember it now. She would never forget this house, the exquisite rooms, the rich fabrics, the treasures scattered everywhere. Who are they? How did they make their money? The last question was whispered so softly he could barely hear her.
In mining, he whispered back.
There must be a lot of good mines out here. She whispered again and he smiled.
Enough.
What's their name?
Thurston, he whispered matter-of-factly, and she nodded, and then stopped and looked at him again.
Thurston? Are they relatives of yours?
More or less. They were still whispering. My wife lives here.
Your what She looked horrified. What kind of joke was this? And she would have begun to cry, but she was too frightened. Did he have another wife? Had he played a cruel joke on them all? He saw everything that was running through her mind and turned her around slowly to look in one of the long mirrors. He pointed at her reflection with a smile. That wife, silly girl. Do you know her?
She spun to face him now, with a look of total amazement. What do you mean, Jeremiah, is this your house?
Our house, my darling. He pulled her into his arms, feeling all the pleasure there was to feel in the world well up inside him at once. I built it for you. And there are probably a few unfinished corners, but we'll finish them together. He held her tight and she pulled away from him after a moment and shrieked in amazement, and then she began to laugh.
You tricked me! Jeremiah Thurston, you tricked me! I thought you were crazy roaming around someone else's house!
But you were willing to do it! he teased.
It's the prettiest house I've ever seen, and I didn't want to leave until I saw more. '
Then I'll show you the rest, and you don't ever have to leave, my darling, it's yours, from top to bottom. And now the footmen who saw them were smiling and a cluster of maids had come out to see the new mistress. They had been hired just before Jeremiah left for Atlanta, and he scarcely recognized them himself. Everything was so new here. He showed her the kitchens and the pantries, and the nursery and children's rooms upstairs, and the view from almost every window, and the discreet plaque on the front gate that said THURSTON HOUSE. He showed her everything there was to see, and at the end of the tour she collapsed on their huge canopied bed with an equally huge grin on her face and stared at him.
It's the most beautiful house I've ever seen, Jeremiah. Anywhere.
And it's all yours, my darling, enjoy it.
Oh, I am! She already had visions of the dazzling parties she was going to give, and she could hardly wait to start using the ballroom. Wait until I write to Daddy! That was the highest praise, Jeremiah knew. Daddy was godlike in Camille's eyes, but Jeremiah was rapidly gaining the same importance. And now he had truly impressed her. Even the enormous diamond hadn't impressed her this much. This really did it, and she grinned at him now. This must have cost you a fortune, Jeremiah. You must be even richer than Daddy thought! But the prospect of that didn't seem to depress her.
He was thrilled by her delight in the house, vague about her questions about how much things cost, and disappointed at her reaction when he took her to Napa. After the elegance and modern marvels of their house on Nob Hill, she was unimpressed by the house he had refurbished in St. Helena. She was disturbed at how far they were from town, how negligible a town it was, and how long it took to get to San Francisco. It was still an all-day affair by carriage and steamer, and she found the house in Napa depressing. She had heard that he had built it for a love who died, and that annoyed her too. She wanted to go back to the grandeur of Thurston House and show off her new clothes. Now! And the fact that he had lived there for the last twenty years didn't interest her at all, the valley itself held no magic for her whatsoever, and the only things that seemed to interest her at all were the mines and how much money he made there. Every day she asked him a thousand questions, but they were so mercenary and so pointed that he was noticeably vague with his answers. It embarrassed him to discuss money to that extent, and he had too much work to do to be able to spend much time with her after his long absence. He needed a month in Napa to set things to rights, and Camille detested every moment they spent there.
He was in the process of devising an elaborate system that would allow him to live in San Francisco for most of the time, as he had promised her father, but communications between Thurston House and the mines would have to be perfected. He had already promised her that from February until June they would stay in the city that year, and after that she had agreed that they would move to Napa for the summer. It was a compromise that he wanted to make work, but there were other compromises he would have liked to work out too. For the moment, Hannah and Camille were not getting along, and on his second night home from the mines, Jeremiah wondered which woman he would find waiting for him when he got home. It seemed unlikely that they would both survive the encounter.
Camille thought Hannah slovenly and forward, much too familiar by half, and she had dared to call Camille girl, instead of Mrs. Thurston. Worse than that she had eventually called her a brat, and a spoiled one at that, and Hannah told Jeremiah in a total uproar that the little vixen had actually thrown something at her. She held the offending object aloft, as though to prove her point. Camille had apparently thrown a small hatbox at her, and the old housekeeper had effectively dodged it.
She's so old, Camille, that it really doesn't seem fair to turn her out. His wife had demanded the old woman's head on a platter by morning. I just can't do it. He couldn't think of anything worse.
Then I will. She had never sounded more determined or more Southern. But suddenly he realized that he had to take a stand before things got totally out of hand between them.
No, you won't. Hannah stays. You'll have to get used to her, Camille. She's part of how I'm used to living in Napa.
That was before you married me.
Yes, it was. And I can't change everything overnight. I refurbished this house just for you. It was a mess before that, and G? hire more servants if you need them, but Hannah stays.
And if I leave and go back to San Francisco? She looked at him haughtily and he pulled her down on his lap without further ado.
Then I'll bring you back here, and spank you. She smiled in spite of herself and he kissed her. There, that's better, that's the woman I love, smiling and sweet, and not throwing hatboxes at old women.
She called me a vixen! Camille looked angry again, but she also looked very lovely, and he felt a strong urge to take her.
Apparently you were a vixen if you threw that thing at her. Behave yourself, Camille. These are good country folk up here, they're simple people and I know you're terribly bored here, but if you're good to them, they'll be true to you forever. He was
thinking of Mary Ellen's long years of loyalty to him as he said it, and wondered if she'd had her baby.
She looked petulant again as she got up and walked around the room. I like it better in the city. And I want to give a ball. She was like an anxious child, and she wanted her birthday now, no matter what!
All in good time, little one. Be patient. I have to do some work here first. You wouldn't want to be in the city without me, would you? She shook her head but she didn't look pleased and he kissed her again, making her forget anyplace but his lips, and a moment later he had her in bed beside him, and the issue of Hannah was long forgotten. Until the next morning, when she attempted to revive it, but he wouldn't let her. He told her to go for a long healthy walk, and he'd come home to see her at lunchtime. That prospect didn't appease her a great deal, but there was nothing much she could do about it. He left the house a few moments later and she was left alone with Hannah, who said barely two words to her all day until Jeremiah came home, and then she seemed to have plenty of conversation for him, questions about the mine, gossip about people in town whom Camille didn't know. It bored her just tp listen. In fact, the whole damn Napa Valley bored her. She wanted to go back to San Francisco, and she told him so again after lunch when he saddled up Big Joe again and got ready to go back to the mine. But this time he shook his head and spoke frankly to her.
We're here until the end of the month. Get used to it, Camille. This is the other side of our life. We live here too, not just at Thurston House. We have a life here too. I told you that. I'm a miner.
No you're not. You're the richest man in California. Now let's go back to San Francisco, and live like it. What she said annoyed him and he tried repeatedly to reason with her, to no avail.
I had hoped you would like the Napa Valley, Camille. It's important to me.
Well, it's ugly and boring and stupid. And I hate that old woman, and she hates me.
Then read a book. I'll take you in to the library in Napa on Saturday. It would mean missing his Saturday morning session with Danny, but Camille was more important just now. He wanted her to settle down to his country life in Napa. He couldn't be in San Francisco all the time, and he wanted her with him.
But as things turned out, he spent Saturday morning with neither Camille nor Danny. On Friday afternoon there was a flood at one of the mines, which happened every winter, and they had already lost seven men and fought like dogs to save thirty others. Jeremiah was right down there with the rescue teams, covered with mud, and fighting desperately to bring the men out of pockets where they clung, barely able to breathe, like bats in caves, waiting to be rescued. It was a tense and terrible time as Hannah explained to Camille when she heard the news and Jeremiah didn't come home. She knew he wouldn't be back until the last of the men were found, dead or alive, and he would go to see the widows before he came home to his own wife. Camille was subdued when she heard about it, and when he rode slowly in on Big Joe at noon the next day, she knew how grim it had been from the look on his face.
We lost fourteen men were his first words to her, and she felt her eyes fill with tears as though she understood the pain of those women.
I'm sorry. She looked up at him with eyes full of tears, tears for how much he cared as much as for the women who were widowed.
They had lost Danny's father among the men, and Jeremiah particularly felt his loss. He had told the boy himself, holding him in his arms as he sobbed. And he would be a pallbearer at the funeral on Monday. It was difficult to explain these things to her. Though they were the realities of his life, she was so young and so new to it all. To her, the only thing real was the beauty of the house he had built her. But there was much, much more than that. And now she was learning.
Hannah went to run him a hot bath, and Camille went to pour him a cup of the hot broth Hannah had been making. She had none of those skills herself, nor any inclination to learn them. But she poured him the soup now, as Hannah stood alone with him upstairs in the bathroom. She looked at him for a long moment, and then shook her head.
I know this isn't a good time to tell you ' She hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Mary Ellen's been in labor for more than two days. I found out yesterday morning, but I never got a chance to tell you. And I heard at the market this morning, she's still laboring. They both knew what that meant. She could die. Countless others had before her. I don't know if you want to do anything about it. There was no reproach in her voice. It was a matter-of-fact statement. But I thought I should tell you.
Thank you, Hannah. He spoke softly as Camille entered the room with the cup of soup, and looked from one to the other. She instantly sensed that Hannah had been telling him a secret, something about her, she assumed incorrectly.
What was she telling you? she asked him the minute the old woman left the room.
Some local gossip. One of my men needs some help. I'm going to go out as soon as I get cleaned up.
But you need some rest. She looked shocked; he was so tired he was numb. He had worked all night in the freezing wet mud, but for the men they had saved, it was worth it.
I'll rest later, Camille. Can you bring me some more soup? And a cup of coffee? She did, and found him sitting in the bathtub. He drained both cups and stood up. He still had the powerful, solid body of his youth. His years of working in the mines as a young man had stood him in good stead. He was still a beautifully built man even at forty-four, and she looked at him now with admiration.
You're beautiful, Jeremiah.
He smiled at her. So are you, little one. But he was quick to slip into his clothes and get ready to leave, and as she watched him, she had an uneasy feeling.
Why are you going now?
I have to. I'll be back in a little while.
Where are you going? It was the first time she had quizzed him this way and he wondered why.
To Calistoga. He met her eyes without wavering, but inside he felt a tremor. He was going to assist at the birth of his child, or at least be there if Mary Ellen died, if she hadn't already.
Can I come?
No. Not this time, Camille.
But I want to. She sounded petulant again, and he pushed her aside.
I don't have time for that now. We'll talk about it later. And before she could say another word, he was gone again, on Big Joe, this time moving at considerable speed across the hills, and she wondered just where he was going.
THE big white horse lumbered down the road and up the valley with Jeremiah pressing him onward. All he could think of were the men they had lost the night before, and once or twice he felt himself nodding off to sleep, but Big Joe seemed to know where they were going. The little white house was silent as Jeremiah tied Big Joe to a tree, and he went around to the front, knocked, and let himself in. There was no sound at first, and he suddenly wondered if Mary Ellen had gone to her mother's house to give birth, and then from above he heard a terrible moaning. He stopped, wondering if she was alone, and then walked softly up the stairs, not quite sure what to do, or why he had come, except that he knew he had to be there. It was his child she was struggling with, and all along he had been afraid it would kill her.
He stood outside her bedroom for a long moment until the groans ceased, and then all he heard was a soft wail and a man's voice speaking softly. It was an awkward situation for Jeremiah, and he felt fatigue in every ounce of his body. Standing there, he felt foolish for having come, but he knocked anyway. Maybe if nothing else, he could go in search of the doctor, he decided. But it was the doctor who opened the door to him, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes haggard, with blood smeared all over the front of his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice.
I'm sorry ' I was wondering if ' He felt more than awkward now. He felt wicked to have left this woman alone to deliver his baby. He looked at the doctor and asked bluntly, How is she? He didn't introduce himself, but there was no need to. The doctor knew who he was. Everyone in the county knew Jeremiah Thurston. He closed the door softly behind him, and came ou
t into the hall to speak to Jeremiah.
She's not good. She's been laboring since Wednesday night, and we just can't get that baby out. She's trying like a dog, and she's just about wore out. Jeremiah nodded, afraid to ask if she might die. He already knew the answer. Do you want to come in? There was no judgment in his eyes, and maybe it would make a difference to the woman. It couldn't do any harm, and she was in so much pain, and had been for so long, that she probably wouldn't care who saw her now, and it was his baby.
Jeremiah hesitated in the hallway. It was unheard of to attend a woman's childbirth, but the doctor didn't seem shocked at the suggestion. She wouldn't mind?
He looked at Jeremiah honestly. She may not even know who you are. She's pretty far gone. And then he hesitated and seemed to be looking deep in Jeremiah's eyes. Can you take it? Ever seen anything like it before?
Jeremiah shook his head. Only livestock.
The older man nodded. It would do. Without saying another word, he opened the door and walked into the room, with Jeremiah just behind him. There was a sweet, heavy scent in the room, that of bodies and rosewater and damp sheets, and there were no windows open. She lay on her bed, covered with two blankets, and from her waist down she was surrounded by blood-soaked sheets. It looked as though someone had been murdered in her bed, and the huge belly lay undaunted by her hard work of the past three days. Her legs hung like those of a rag doll and her entire body trembled, and then suddenly, as he watched her, feeling guilt and sorrow wash over him, she was wracked by what looked to him like a convulsion. She gave a soft, jagged moan, which rose slowly to a scream as she thrashed about in the bed, rolling her eyes, and clutching at the air. She spoke incoherently and the doctor went quickly to her. it was easy to see that she was barely conscious, and a huge gush of blood shot from between her legs as she screamed. The doctor plunged his hands into her womb, but there was no progress as he pulled them out again and wiped them on a blood-soaked towel. She whimpered horribly then as she lay there, and Jeremiah slowly approached the bed and looked down at the ravaged face. Had he not known who she was, he wouldn't have known her.
Thurston House (1983) Page 14
