As Luke watched the banter between Nellie, Ellen and Seamus, part of him wished he could be part of that same easy routine. But another part of him felt like he was somehow betraying Diana. Ellen had been Diana’s best friend, and yet, from the way she laughed with Nellie, it seemed as though Ellen had completely forgotten Diana.
“Luke, can you get the door?” Nellie asked, giving him the kind of smile meant to turn a man’s heart. Or at least, that was what it would have been to him were his heart not completely unable to be turned.
He did as he was bade, ignoring Seamus’s eyes on him. Once the door was closed behind Nellie and Ellen, Seamus said, “You know, it’s not a crime to let yourself have feelings for someone else once your wife dies. It doesn’t diminish the love you have in your heart for Diana. In fact, it’s a tribute to her love, that it taught you how to love even deeper. To be able to love someone else. It’s a gift, loving someone, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”
“I’m not ashamed of anything,” Luke said, stepping away from the other man. “Everyone knows I loved Diana.”
“So then why are you afraid to love someone else?”
“I’m not.” His wife hadn’t been gone six months—why was it so wrong to grieve her still?
“Every time you look at Nellie, there’s a longing in your eyes, like you want her. But you turn away quickly, like acknowledging those feelings are somehow going to burn you. None of us are promised tomorrow. It would be a shame if you wasted your today ignoring what’s in front of you.”
Luke’s stomach twisted as he stared at his friend. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And I’ll thank you to not bring this up again. You don’t know what I’m going through, so you can’t possibly understand.”
He didn’t wait for a response as he turned and went back into his house. Though he had a few more boards he’d have liked to secure better on Nellie’s room, it would do for now.
“Running’s not going to help,” Seamus called after him.
What did Seamus know? At least Nellie understood that the grieving process was personal, and he couldn’t be expected to give up his heart simply because everyone else thought it was a good idea.
Ellen sat at the table, laughing at something Nellie had said. Nellie held up a teapot.
“I was just making some tea. Would you care to join us?”
“No, thanks,” Luke said, staring at the teapot Nellie held. “I don’t recognize that. Where did you get it?”
“It was in the back shed.” Nellie smiled at him as she rubbed the cracked pot. “I couldn’t find anything else to use, so I’ve been rummaging through the old shed. Myrna said it was mostly junk, but I’ve found a few useful items.”
“We have a teapot. I bought Diana a very nice one for her birthday last year.”
“That’s Mother’s!” Ruby said, jumping up from where she’d been reading a book to Maeve. “I’ll not have her using Mother’s things. When she first came, I took everything nice of Mother’s and locked it in her trunk.”
Ruby held up a key that was hanging from a string around her neck. “And she can’t get into it while I’m at school, either.”
Luke wasn’t sure what caused him the most physical pain: the anger and selfishness in his daughter’s face, or the look of devastation on Nellie’s.
As much as Luke hated to admit it, Seamus might have been right about a few things.
“Your mother can’t use those things anymore. It’s silly to keep them locked away so no one can use them when they might be useful to our family. Give me the key.”
Luke held out his hand, but Ruby stood there, shaking her head.
“No. Those are my mother’s things. Not hers.”
Wind whistled through one of the cracks in the wall, a place where he hadn’t dabbed enough mud to keep the wind out, where the thin wallpaper Diana had put up had torn. Luke sighed. Was he being just as selfish as Ruby, clinging to something as silly as having the nice wallpaper Diana had wanted instead of doing more to take care of his family’s needs?
“They’re also mine,” Luke said quietly, looking at his daughter and holding out his hand. “And I bought all those pretty things so they could be used, not locked away in a trunk where no one could enjoy them.”
“I won’t have her wearing Mother’s dresses.” Ruby turned her glare on Nellie.
Nellie wiped her hands on her apron and stepped forward. “I would never do such a thing,” she said softly, a gentle smile filling her face. “From what I hear, your mother was much smaller than me, so I doubt any of her things would fit me.”
Luke watched as Nellie came closer to his daughter. “But I have been thinking,” Nellie continued. “You are in need of some new dresses. I can’t help but notice how short your skirts have become, and how your wrists stick out at the ends of your sleeves. I was going to ask your father for money to buy material to make you something new, but if you’d like, I could remake a few of your mother’s dresses to fit you. That way, you could have a piece of her with you every day.”
A lump filled Luke’s throat as he saw how Nellie was trying to reach out to Ruby. Only a few weeks before Nellie came, Ruby had asked him if she could wear her mother’s dresses. But they were too big on her and wouldn’t have been appropriate. Nellie’s idea would give Ruby what she wanted.
But was Ruby willing to accept Nellie’s olive branch?
Ruby bit her lower lip. “How do I know you won’t ruin them?”
Ellen turned around in her seat. “Oh, I can vouch for Nellie’s sewing. You should see what she did to help me remake my gown for the Christmas ball. Pa said I couldn’t have the new material I wanted, but what Nellie did—oh, I will have the prettiest dress there!” With a smile, Ellen added, “But if you want to do an experiment first, I have an old dress I was going to donate to the church ministry. I’d be happy to let you have it so Nellie can remake it and show you what she can do. You are so blessed to have someone so talented with a needle in your household. Why, you are going to be the best-dressed family in all of Leadville.”
Ruby’s scowl didn’t leave her face, but it didn’t deepen. “My mother was talented with a needle.”
“Oh, she was!” Ellen agreed. “I will treasure her embroidery forever. But Nellie has an eye for dressmaking that I’ve never seen the likes of. Where did you learn such things?”
“My mother was a seamstress,” Nellie said, smiling. “She taught me everything I know. I was helping her with dressmaking when I was Ruby’s age.”
For a moment, Nellie appeared lost in the memory, a soft expression drifting across her face. In all the time Luke had known her, he’d never heard Nellie refer to any of her family, other than to say she had a sister who wouldn’t be able to come to the wedding.
Then Nellie turned her attention back to Ruby. “I do know what it’s like to miss your mother. Mine died far too soon, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish for her back so I could talk to her. But I have my memories, and the things she taught me, so even though I have no mementos like you do, my mother is always in my heart, and always a part of my life.”
A little more of the hostility left Ruby’s face as she took a step toward Nellie. “Why don’t you have mementos from your mother?”
Nellie shrugged, but Luke could see pain written across her face. “A lot of reasons. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve learned that things are just things, and as easily as we come by them, they can be lost. The Bible tells us not to store up our treasures here on earth, and I believe it’s because God knows how impermanent they are. The dresses and whatever else you’re hoarding in the chest can be eaten by moths or burned by fire, or some other tragedy can befall them. I have no need of them for myself, but I hope you’ll enjoy them while you have them, because you never know how long they’ll last.”
Ru
by slipped the key off her neck and handed it to Luke. Even Luke felt ashamed of the way he clung to the past after Nellie’s speech about the impermanence of things.
“I’ll take that old dress of yours,” Ruby said, turning to Ellen. “And if she does a good job with it, I’ll think about letting her do the same to some of my mother’s.”
Something twisted in Luke’s stomach as he realized that Ruby was still acting as though Nellie were nothing more than a servant. But they’d made so much progress today that it didn’t seem right to take her to task over this, as well.
“I would be delighted,” Nellie said, acting like Ruby hadn’t just slighted her. “But I will require help, and since it’s going to be your dress, you’ll have to help me. Being able to make your own dresses, or remake someone else’s into your own, is an important skill, so you’ll have to learn just as I did.”
Anger flashed across Ruby’s face. “But—”
“I think Nellie is being more than fair,” Luke said, closing his fingers around the key and wondering how he could help not only himself, but also his daughter, move past the grief that engulfed them. While he could list all his reasons for hanging on to the pain of his loss, as he saw Ruby struggle with the same things, he realized he wanted more for his daughter.
But how could he expect her to break free from the pain if he wasn’t willing to do so himself?
* * *
Nellie finished arranging her things in her new room. Myrna had given her a blanket she’d made, and once the blanket Nellie was knitting was finished, it would be a lovely room. It was sweet of Luke to build it for her, but she hated the way the new room seemed to intensify the way Ruby glared at her. Every time Nellie went in or out, Ruby hovered nearby, scowling.
Still, as Nellie looked around the small room Luke had tacked on to their tiny cabin, she couldn’t help but feel a small level of satisfaction. Amos sat at the kitchen table, reading, and little Maeve was sitting on the floor in Nellie’s room, playing with a rag doll. It almost felt like home.
Well, it was home. But despite his promises of friendship, Luke continued to keep Nellie at a distance, and Ruby’s hostility made the place uncomfortable most of the time. Somehow, though, Nellie would have to find a way to make it more of a home for everyone.
Though Luke showed no signs of his anger and pain turning outward, he chose to keep his distance from everyone. While he occasionally extended warmth to his children, his coldness made Nellie wonder if they would ever be friends. She had no illusions that he would ever fall in love with her, but shouldn’t they at least be working on making their relationship friendly? Mostly Nellie felt like hired help, only unpaid, and from the few interactions she’d seen between Luke and his coworkers, she wasn’t sure she was treated as well as them. Not that Luke was ever cruel to her—and building this room for her showed compassion—but was this enough?
Had Nellie married too hastily? She sighed. Of course she had. But at the time, it seemed like the best option for staying hidden from Ernest’s creditors.
“Ruby,” Nellie said, walking over to the chest of drawers the Fitzgeralds had given her. “Why don’t I get my sewing things, and we can work on your new dress? I found some ribbon at the mercantile this morning, and I think it will look very nice on the edges of the dress Ellen gave us.”
Luke hadn’t been pleased at the Fitzgeralds’ gift, considering they’d given her all the furniture in her room—the bed, the chest of drawers, a nightstand and even a pretty lamp to go on it. Myrna had told Nellie that she wanted to buy new furniture for their guest room. Some friends were selling theirs, and Myrna wanted it, but Seamus wouldn’t let her, since they already had furniture in that room. Nellie accepting the gift of furniture allowed Myrna to purchase what she wanted. Since Luke wouldn’t allow Nellie to accept payment for the dresses Nellie had helped Myrna and Ellen make, Myrna felt that giving Nellie the furniture was a fair trade.
Even though Ruby hadn’t responded, Nellie pulled open the drawer where she kept her sewing things. Most of Nellie’s belongings had gone to satisfy the creditors, who weren’t even close to satisfied with her meager offering, but it was nice to have a place to put what few things she had.
As she grabbed her sewing kit, Nellie noticed that her journal was missing. The slim, leather-bound book had been a gift from Mabel. It contained the only picture Nellie had of her family—Nellie, Mabel and their parents, shortly before their mother had passed away. For whatever reason, the creditors had allowed Nellie this one keepsake. From time to time, Nellie liked to write in it, pretending she was writing to Mabel, sharing things from her life that she would have liked to have shared with her sister if only she could.
Nellie turned to Ruby. “Have you seen my journal? It seems to be missing.”
Ruby’s face remained the solid wall of bitterness and hate. “Why would I know anything about your things? Do you have anything of your own, or did you steal it all from my mother?”
The girl’s words were a knife to Nellie’s heart. She shouldn’t let the anger get to her—after all, this wasn’t about Nellie personally, but about the grief Ruby still felt over her mother’s loss.
But at some point, Nellie just wanted the hostility to end.
“The journal was mine. And since you are so intent on preserving your mother’s things, perhaps it will help you to know that the only thing I have from my mother, other than my memories, is in that journal. It’s a picture of her. Much like the one of your mother that you keep hidden in your pillowcase.”
“That is my private property. You have no right taking it!”
Nellie would feel bad for Ruby, except that she was fairly certain that Ruby had done the same to her.
“I didn’t take it,” Nellie said calmly. “I happened to notice it when I was cleaning. And I see you looking at it every night when I pop my head upstairs to make sure everyone is settled in.”
Ruby’s glare intensified.
Nellie merely smiled. “I used to talk to my mother’s picture. I knew it would never answer back, but sometimes just feeling like I was talking to her gave me the strength to deal with whatever I was struggling with. During my toughest moments, it always helped to have that reminder of her love for me.”
The expression on Ruby’s face softened. It still wasn’t friendly, but hopefully it indicated that she was considering Nellie’s words. Realizing that Nellie wasn’t trying to diminish Ruby’s love for her mother in any way.
“Did your father remarry soon after her death?”
Nellie sighed. Her experience was not at all like Ruby’s in this regard, and nothing she said would help her case with the young girl.
“He did not,” Nellie finally said. “My father made a number of choices that I can’t see your father making. I wish he had chosen to marry instead.”
Her father had turned his back on the Lord, much like Luke, only where Luke kept it a private matter between himself and the Lord, Nellie’s father had embraced a sinful life. It was one of the reasons why both Nellie and Mabel had turned to the church, and both had married the first seemingly decent man they could find. Mabel’s husband turned out to be just fine, but Nellie’s life had become a living nightmare.
Funny how both of Nellie’s marriages had been about escaping bad situations. But she had to hope that at least this one could be redeemed.
“You’re only saying that because you want me to accept you. Well, I won’t. You can pretend to be my friend and make me dresses all you want, but I will never let you be my mother.”
Ruby turned and ran out of the room, then went up the stairs to the loft.
So much for trying to relate to the girl.
With a sigh, Nellie looked through her drawers again in the hope that she might have missed the journal. But it was gone. It wasn’t just the picture, or even the fact that Mabel had given her th
e journal. Nellie had written a number of very personal things in there, and while she never went into specifics about some of the terrible things she’d undergone, a child didn’t need to read the contents. Plus, Mabel had written a very encouraging note to Nellie in the front of the journal, and just as Nellie found comfort in looking at her mother’s picture, she’d also found comfort in Mabel’s words.
Why had Ruby been so cruel as to take it?
Nellie shook her head. She didn’t have proof that Ruby had taken it, and it was unfair to blame the girl just because she was hostile toward Nellie.
“Nellie!” Amos called from the other room. “Look what I made!” The little boy held up a drawing. He was supposed to have been reading, but Nellie found she couldn’t fault him, not with the smile lighting up his face.
Especially since Amos and Maeve seemed to be the only ones in the household with ready smiles for Nellie. It was said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and that certainly had proved to be true with Amos. Once Nellie had made good on her promise of chocolate cake, the boy had become an ally. While she wouldn’t say that he loved her, he did treat her with respect, and in the weeks since coming to Leadville, he’d begun to open up in small ways, like he was doing now by showing her his drawing.
Amos held up a picture of a Christmas tree with gifts underneath. “My friends are all talking about Christmas, and I drew a picture of what I love about it.”
The pain in her heart at the child’s simple love of the season nearly undid Nellie. Since Luke’s brief admission that Christmas had been Diana’s favorite holiday, the topic had hung between them like a thundercloud that hadn’t yet burst. It seemed a disaster was in the making, and Nellie didn’t know how to avoid it without breaking a little boy’s heart, or making a little girl feel like Nellie was doing one more thing to usurp her mother’s power. And that didn’t even include what the holiday would do to Luke’s grief.
“You like the Christmas trees and presents?” Nellie smiled at him, wondering how much of the boy’s real joy was in the presents.
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