Sophie giggled. “It’s heavier than you thought, isn’t it?”
“It must be the heavy mattress, for my wife weighs no more than a feather.”
“Your wife grows larger by the day. If I’m required to stay in this bed, it won’t be long until you’re unable to move it.”
“I like to hear you refer to yourself as my wife,” he said, grasping the headboard. “There! I believe that will work. What do you think?”
“Thank you, Paul. This is much better. Look.” She pointed toward the window. “I can see the boats out on the water.” She clapped her hands. “What a smart man you are.”
He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her head. “At least I can do one thing to please you.”
She frowned but lowered her head so that he couldn’t see her. Was that how he felt in her presence? Did he constantly seek to find ways to earn her approval? Or—dare she say the word—love? Sophie pushed the thought aside as Paul was already gazing out the window and seemed to have given it no more thought. Unfortunately Sophie knew it would be on her mind for some time to come.
By midafternoon, Sophie’s spirits began to wane. She’d already tired of looking out the window and hearing Paul read to her. She’d dozed for a while, but when she awakened, she longed for something new to fill the hours. Paul suggested a visit from Amanda and Fanny, and Sophie agreed. He squeezed her hand and immediately jumped up to do her bidding. What had she done to deserve such a fine man, she wondered. Paul was everything a woman could desire in a husband. If only her heart would forget Wesley.
Her cousins arrived moments later, both of them looking grim. “The two of you need not look so gloomy. I haven’t died just yet.”
“That’s not humorous in the least,” Amanda snapped. “We have been terribly worried about you.”
“And the baby,” Fanny added. “Paul says you’ve had no pains since he arrived.”
“None. So I don’t see why I must remain abed. Couldn’t I at least try sitting in one of the chairs for a time? I would truly enjoy going out to sit on the veranda.”
“No, no, no.” Amanda sounded like a parent chastising a small child. “Must I resort to those ropes I mentioned to Dr. Carstead?”
Sophie giggled. “Attempting to free myself might prove a diversion. I don’t think I can possibly do this for two weeks.”
Mrs. Atwell entered the room carrying a tray. “Mr. Medford thought you ladies might enjoy tea.”
Sophie beamed. “Isn’t he the most thoughtful man?”
“He’s been terribly worried about you, especially because you’ve expressed your boredom. He fears you’ll get out of bed before the doctor grants permission,” Fanny said.
“I can’t help that I’m weary of this bed. It’s tiresome to be stuck away up here with nothing to occupy my time. Paul has read to me and played cards, but even that becomes wearisome after a time.”
Mrs. Atwell settled the tea tray on a table between Amanda and Fanny and poured three cups. She glanced over her shoulder at Sophie. “What about that babe you’re carrying, Miss Sophie? You could use this time to make some fine little clothes for the child, don’t you think?”
“Oh yes. That’s a wonderful idea,” Fanny said. “And we’ll help you. We can come to your room each afternoon. By the time the baby arrives, we should have a complete layette.”
Sophie wasn’t so certain. Once she was out of bed, she didn’t know how much sewing she’d care to do. After all, domestic duties weren’t something she had ever aspired to. However, having her cousins spend the afternoons with her during the next two weeks would help pass the time.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Mrs. Atwell. We can make a list and have Mr. Atwell pick up the items over in Clayton.”
The older woman agreed. “Why don’t you work on your list right now? Frank will be going to pick up supplies in the morning. He can purchase whatever you need at the same time.”
While they drank their tea, Amanda jotted several items on a piece of paper. Sophie waved a hand at her cousin. “I don’t plan to be in this room for more than two weeks. That list is becoming far too extensive.”
“We’ll continue on the layette after you’ve recovered. Instead of fishing when we go on our picnics, I’ll sew instead,” Fanny promised. “This is going to be great fun.”
Sophie agreed, though she wasn’t quite so sure. While her cousins were both adept with needle and thread, Sophie’s ability as a seamstress lay far below theirs. She pushed aside the thought and suggested Amanda add a yard of fine lace to the list.
“Here, let me help you,” Amanda said, taking the piece of soft cambric and examining Sophie’s stitches. “Your embroidery is knotting because your thread is much too long.”
Sophie curled her lip. “I dislike threading the needle.”
“But you see the result?” Amanda picked up her scissors and snipped the thread. “I’ll have to cut this and remove the stitches. You’ll have to start over.”
Sophie sighed and dropped against her pillows. “I don’t think I have the necessary talent to embroider.”
“Then why don’t you stitch one of these gowns that I’ve cut out, and I’ll embroider?”
Sophie agreed, although Fanny’s instructions seemed much more difficult than she’d anticipated. They’d been sewing for a week, and she had little to show for her efforts, while her cousins continued to add items each day: tiny embroidered bibs, sacques with lace edging, and a tiny bonnet with silk ribbons. Amanda had permitted one of Sophie’s creations into the pile, a bib with ribbon edging. However, Sophie saw that Amanda had ripped out and hemstitched a portion of the edging.
Fanny threaded a needle and handed it to Sophie. “Begin along this side, using tiny stitches.”
Sophie dipped her needle into the soft fabric and completed several stitches. Fanny smiled and offered an approving nod before returning to her embroidery work. They worked until suppertime and then set aside their work when Mrs. Atwell knocked at the door. The older woman arranged a tray on Sophie’s lap and motioned to her cousins.
“Supper will be served downstairs in ten minutes,” she said.
Sophie would have preferred the company of her cousins for the remainder of the evening, but she insisted they go downstairs. They deserved to enjoy themselves with the rest of the family, even if she must remain in bed. Perhaps she could finish the gown this evening and have something more than a bib to add to the layette.
When her cousins arrived the following afternoon, Sophie looked up from her stitching. “I’m almost finished with the gown I began yesterday.”
Amanda arched her brows. “So soon? I do hope you’ve been making tiny stitches.”
“I worked on it last evening as well as this morning,” she said, tying off the final knot. “There! All done. Such tedious work.”
Fanny stepped alongside the bed and quickly examined the stitches. “That’s wonderful, Sophie. Let’s turn it right side out.”
Sophie handed the gown to her cousin, but Fanny’s brow soon knit into a frown as she attempted to turn the gown right side out. “What have you done to this?” She placed it atop the coverlet and then giggled.
Amanda leaned forward to examine the gown. “You’ve sewn the neck and arm holes together.”
Sophie grabbed the gown away from her cousin. “I did exactly what Fanny said. I went around the edges with tiny stitches, and now you tell me it’s wrong.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie. I thought you would understand the need for openings at the neck and sleeves. How did you expect to get it over the baby’s head?” Fanny clapped her hand over her mouth and stifled a giggle.
“I believe you should apply your efforts to hemming diapers and blankets,” Amanda said.
“Or maybe I should purchase the baby’s clothes,” Sophie declared.
Amanda tsked and waved her needle back and forth. “You need to remember that you’re married to a minister who doesn’t command a large salary. Paul’s income won’t permit f
rivolous spending.”
Sophie sighed and looked out the window. “You’re right. I suppose that’s my punishment.” She grinned at Fanny. “On the other hand, the baby has a wealthy aunt. I’m certain Fanny won’t want to see her niece or nephew wearing anything like this.” She held the gown in the air, and the three of them giggled.
Paul watched Sophie sleep and wondered if he would ever win her heart. He loved her so dearly that it actually caused an ache deep within. How he longed to hold her in his arms, stroke her hair, kiss her lips.
He shook that thought off as soon as it came. There was no sense in dreaming of such things at this juncture. Sophie was carrying a child and had nearly suffered a miscarriage. He would do nothing to risk her losing the baby. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he cared nothing for the child.
Sophie moaned softly and rolled onto her back. Paul could see the rounding bulge of her abdomen through the light coverlet. He marveled that a child grew inside this petite young woman. He wondered if it was a boy who would favor his father’s features. Could Sophie ever truly put Wesley Hedrick behind her if the child looked like his father?
O God, he prayed in silence. Please help Sophie grow to love me. Help her to let go of the past and all the lies that Hedrick told her.
“Oh, Paul. I’m glad you’re here.”
He heard her speak and opened his eyes, certain he’d find her looking at him. But instead, he found she was still asleep. Her words had been whispered in her dreams. He couldn’t help but smile. The more he thought about the situation, the broader his smile grew. It wasn’t a declaration of love, to be sure, but she wanted him there. At least in her sleep she could admit that much.
Paul felt like shouting. Instead, he thanked God for the glimmer of hope. “All I need is hope,” he whispered. “Well, that and a great deal of patience.”
26
Monday, August 29, 1898
The past two weeks had been the longest in Sophie’s life. Today she would be permitted to go downstairs for a picnic lunch with her cousins. She didn’t want to admit how easily she tired, but her legs were quivering like Mrs. Atwell’s rhubarb jelly by the time she had completed her toilette. Amanda had warned she must not overtax herself or she’d be returned to bed rest—a fact Sophie didn’t favor in the least.
“Miss Amanda said you should wait for her and she’ll help you downstairs,” Veda said after she’d poked the final hairpins into Sophie’s coiffure. “Unless you want me to help you.”
Sophie considered the maid’s offer. She didn’t like the idea of waiting, especially after being abed for two full weeks. On the other hand, she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her older cousin. “Thank you, Veda, but I believe I had best wait on my cousin.”
The maid tucked one final strand of hair into place and met Sophie’s gaze in the mirror. “You might want to pinch your cheeks a little, Miss Sophie. You’re still a tad pale.” She frowned. “Maybe you should rest in your bed until Miss Amanda comes to get you.”
“I’m fine, Veda. You worry nearly as much as Amanda. Go on and take care of your duties. I’ll wait here until my cousin arrives.”
Amanda had assumed the dual role of parent and doctor, and Sophie would be glad to have her cousin return to being her friend. Rather than having to answer to the probing medical questions Amanda insisted upon asking each time she entered the room, Sophie looked forward to engaging once again in their lively conversation.
There had been few medical changes for Sophie to report throughout the confinement. Other than occasional twinges, Sophie hadn’t experienced any further difficulty, and her confidence increased with each passing day. The fluttering movements deep within her body confirmed her baby remained strong and, as if discerning her thoughts, the baby moved. In the past she’d heard women occasionally speak of the wonder of carrying a baby, but such talk had been of little interest to her. Now she wished she could recall every word. Her sister Beatrice would surely be pleased to speak to her of the travails of childbirth and the tragedy of an infant’s death, but Sophie didn’t want to dwell on those topics. Thankfully, Beatrice had returned home and wouldn’t be waiting downstairs to spread gloom.
The bedroom door opened, and Amanda greeted Sophie with a bright smile. “You look wonderful. Fanny is seeing to our picnic. Are you ready to attempt the steps?”
“I’m feeling fine,” Sophie said.
However, walking down the stairs proved more exhausting than she had anticipated. By the time they arrived on the ve- randa, she gladly accepted the chair Amanda pulled toward her and readily accepted Fanny’s suggestion to lunch on the veranda rather than walk to one of their favorite island locations. A short time later Fanny and Mrs. Atwell appeared with a tray of assorted sandwiches, strawberry cake, and a pitcher of lemonade.
Sophie selected a roast beef sandwich while still eyeing the cake. “Perhaps I’ll try a piece of cake first,” she said with a giggle. Fanny winked at her while Amanda lectured upon the fact that medical books now touted proper nutrition as important for the health of both mother and baby.
“I have some news to tell the two of you,” Sophie said once her cousins had filled their plates.
“Oh, I do hope it’s good news,” Fanny replied. “Paul appeared somewhat distracted during his visit this weekend, and I feared something was amiss.”
Sophie giggled. “I think he feared he might slip and tell our secret.”
“He hasn’t accepted a position elsewhere, has he?” Amanda asked, the makings of a frown beginning to crease her brow.
“No, of course not. He’s found a house that he thinks will suit us quite well. It’s not in the Ruffled Shirt District, of course, but he says it’s very nice. It’s on King Street or perhaps Madison; I don’t remember for certain. He mentioned so many that he’d seen.”
“I don’t think you should refer to East Avenue as the Ruffled Shirt District, Sophie—there are already more than enough people who make snide remarks about the area where we live.”
Sophie shrugged. “We don’t live there. My father’s house isn’t located on East Avenue. Besides, you call the area where the Hollanders live Dutchtown. What’s the difference if they refer to an area of town populated by the rich as the Ruffled Shirt District?”
“The name makes those who live there sound ostentatious.”
Sophie giggled. “I suppose if it makes you feel better, I can say that Paul didn’t look at any homes on East Avenue. He said that as soon as I’m able to return home, he’ll take me to see it. He thought you might like to come along, Fanny.”
Amanda folded her arms in front of her waist. “Well, what about me? Am I not invited?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course you’re invited. But since Fanny is purchasing the house, Paul thought she should see what she is buying.”
“I’ll be happy to go along, but whatever you choose will be fine with me,” Fanny said. “If you and Paul like the house, that’s all that’s important. I’m delighted he agreed to my plan, and though I may have furnished the funds, it is you and Paul who are buying this home.”
Sophie filled her glass with lemonade. “I hope the two of you will help me decorate the house. I have as little expertise decorating as I do stitching baby clothes.”
Amanda chuckled. “Then you will certainly need our help. I believe some of Grandfather’s furniture is being stored at a warehouse until it can be auctioned. I would guess that you could use some of those items to furnish your house. I’ll check with Mother.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Amanda,” Fanny said. “I would much prefer your using them than having Uncle Jonas place them in an auction. I’ll speak to him when the family returns to Rochester next week.”
Summer had slipped by in no more than a wink, yet when Sophie considered all that had happened over the past few months, it seemed far more than a wink. It was strange how time played tricks with one’s mind. She was savoring a bite of the strawberry cake when Mr. Atwell a
pproached from the side of the house. He waved and smiled, but his eyes didn’t reflect their usual twinkle.
“Sorry to interrupt, Fanny, but Maggie wondered if you could come to the kitchen when you’ve finished your lunch. She needs a word with you.”
Concern edged the older man’s words, and Fanny immediately pushed away from the table. “I’ve finished. I’ll come with you now,” she said. “Why don’t you two wait for me? And say a prayer that it isn’t bad news,” she whispered to her cousins.
She hurried to keep pace with Mr. Atwell, her nerves beginning to take hold. The roast beef sandwich lurched in her stomach, and she wondered if she might be ill before reaching the kitchen. Silently she chastised herself for expecting the worst.
One look at Mrs. Atwell’s face was enough to confirm she wouldn’t be hearing good news. She considered backing out the door or covering her ears before the older woman had an opportunity to speak. If something had happened to Michael, Fanny didn’t know if she could carry on. She spied a letter on the worktable and pointed to it.
“From Michael?” It was as much as she could manage.
“Yes. There’s one for you, too. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll fetch you a cup of tea. Or would you prefer something cool?”
“Nothing,” Fanny said, dropping into one of the wooden chairs. “He’s not injured?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask if he was dead. It seemed even to say the word might make it so.
Mrs. Atwell shook her head. “No, nothing like that. But there’s been trouble. Both Zeb and Sherman, Michael’s two partners, were injured in an accident. Michael wasn’t with them at the time.”
Fanny sighed, relief washing over her like a spring rain. “Zeb and Sherman will recover?”
“Yes, but they need Michael to stay on with them. They’re unable to make it out of the Yukon. If they’re to survive, they need his help.” Mrs. Atwell forced a smile. “Michael could never leave them.”
Fanny nodded. “I know,” she whispered, a tear beginning to form in the corner of her eye. “Did he say when . . .”
An Unexpected Love Page 30
