Lucy's Quilt

by Joyce Livingston

  He took her hand in his as he gave her a broad smile. “You win! But remember this, Juliette: If being married to me ever becomes too much for you, I’ll let you go.”

  “You’ll never get rid of me, Stone. I’m here to stay.” She broke from his grasp, leapt to her feet, and ran along the river’s edge. Twisting and motioning for him to follow, she teased, “Bet you can’t catch me!”

  Stone rose quickly and took off after her. When he caught her, he held her tight as she struggled to free herself.

  When all her energy had been spent, she relaxed in his arms. Then, she leaned into him and looked up into his eyes. It took all her resolve to keep from kissing him and telling him how important he had become to her. Just the touch of his hand made her giddy. Was this love?

  “I’m hungry,” he finally said, releasing her from his grasp. “How about you?”

  Straightening her frock, she headed toward the quilt they’d left spread on the ground. “Me too.”

  But even as they enjoyed their food, Juliette couldn’t get her mind off Kentucky and the look of disappointment on Stone’s face when he’d sent the dog away. As usual, I’ve been unreasonable, putting my own needs above those of my husband’s. It wouldn’t have hurt one bit if that dog had come along with us.

  Lord, forgive me and, please, make me more like You.

  ❧

  The next afternoon, after Stone had gone back to the barn and the older boys were taking their nap, Juliette carried Andrew to a grassy spot outside and let him lie on a blanket while she went back into the house to get her basket of laundry. By the time she’d hung the wash on the line, he was fast asleep. I’ll just leave him here while I go grab a few more things to wash. He should be fine. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.

  With one final glance toward her child, she carried her empty basket into the house and gathered a few of the baby’s small garments.

  Suddenly, Kentucky began barking loudly. “That dog! He must be near Andrew!” she said with disgust, as she dropped a tiny gown, grabbed the broom from behind the door, and ran outside.

  She was right. The big dog was near Andrew. And he was snarling and baring his teeth. But not at the baby. At a wolf!

  Juliette knew she could never run the vicious wolf off with a broom. Hoping Kentucky would be able to hold him at bay, she ran back into the house and pulled Stone’s revolver from its hiding place. When she reached the porch, she lifted the gun into the air and fired.

  Boom!

  The wolf took off across the field.

  She fired a second shot. Boom!

  Quickly, she placed the gun on the railing and rushed toward her screaming baby, who had already begun to crawl off the pallet. After grabbing Andrew, she ran into the house and slammed the door behind her. Her mind raced with thoughts of what might have happened if Kentucky hadn’t been there.

  Eric was standing in the middle of the room crying, wakened from a sound sleep. She looked around for Will, then realized his sleep probably hadn’t been interrupted. He may not even have heard the shots.

  With her baby in her arms, she took Eric’s hand, led him to the rocking chair, and tried to calm them both.

  The door burst open, and Stone came running in with Kentucky in his arms. The dog wasn’t moving. “What happened? I heard the gunshot and came running. I found Kentucky—”

  Juliette gasped. The dog was bleeding profusely, his blood flowing over his master. “Is—is he—dead?”

  “No, he’s still alive, but he’s very weak. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Stone knelt and lowered Kentucky onto the small rug in front of the fireplace. “Why did you shoot him, Juliette? He’s done nothing to you,” he asked sadly as he stroked the dog’s back.

  “Me, shoot him? I didn’t shoot him! He saved Andrew’s life! I fired at the wolf!” she screamed in defense of her actions. “If it weren’t for him, Andrew might have been killed!”

  “I–I didn’t know.” Stone dipped a rag in the pail of water heating on the woodstove and began to wipe at the dog’s wounds. “He’s alive—but barely.”

  Juliette placed Andrew on the pallet and fell to her knees beside him. She began to cry as she stared at the blood-soaked fur. “He has to live. Oh, Stone, make Kentucky live. Please.”

  “I don’t know. That wolf really did a job on him. Juliette.” He paused and swallowed hard. “He’s missing an eye.”

  “An eye?” She crumpled into a ball on the floor, her face cupped in her hands. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t left Andrew in the yard. If only I’d—”

  His arm wrapped tightly about her. “You did the right thing.”

  Her tears flowed profusely. “That brave dog! If only I hadn’t been so cruel to him. If I’d—”

  He stood and pulled her up with him. “I’ve got to get him to Doc Meeker. He’ll know what to do. Stay here with the boys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “But I want to help—”

  “Then pray. Be prepared—Kentucky might not make it. From the looks of things, his wounds are pretty deep, and with that eye gone—well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Juliette placed Andrew’s blanket over the bleeding dog. “Wrap him in this, Stone. He’ll need to be kept warm.”

  Carefully, he wrapped the blanket about the animal’s limp body. “But this is Andrew’s blanket.”

  Her tear-filled eyes met his. “Without Kentucky, there might not be an Andrew.”

  ❧

  Stone returned four long hours later with Kentucky wrapped in the blood-soaked blanket. “Doc did everything for him he could. All we can do now is take care of him, pray, and hope he makes it.”

  The two took turns keeping vigil over the injured dog for three days and nights. Praying over him. Urging him to drink and eat. Encouraging him to get better. On the fourth day, during Juliette’s watch, Kentucky lifted his head.

  She hollered for Stone, then bent and kissed the dog between his drooping ears. “Oh, Kentucky, Kentucky. You’re a hero too.”

  “This dog a hero?” Stone teased as he hurried to her side. “Is this the same dog who was banished from the house? The dog who wasn’t allowed to go on picnics with us?”

  She leaned into her husband and rested her head on his shoulder. “If only I’d known what a fine dog he is. The only dog I ever got close to was our neighbor’s dog in Ohio. He bit my hand when I was three.” She held up her hand and showed him a nearly invisible, jagged scar. “I’ve never forgotten. I’ve always been terribly afraid of dogs.”

  “I guess you know now, Kentucky would never hurt anyone.”

  She stroked the dog’s back lovingly. “Yes, I know. And, Kentucky,” she said pulling her hair away from her face and leaning close to the dog’s ear. “This is your home too. Come in anytime you want. You can even sleep in my room.”

  Stone reared back with a loud burst of laughter. “Now I’d say that’s quite a concession. What can I do to get into your good graces like Kentucky?”

  She smiled up at him. “You already are.”

  “Well, I’d say your loving care is what’s going to put that dog back on his feet, if anything will.”

  “Is he really going to be all right?”

  As if on cue, Kentucky tried to stand. Stone lowered him back onto the rug. “Looks like it to me.”

  ❧

  Within weeks, Kentucky was running about the yard during the day and spending his nights curled up at the foot of Juliette’s bed. Still not used to maneuvering around with only one eye, he would bump into things occasionally. Although the sight tore at the hearts of the adults, the boys would laugh at his awkwardness.

  ❧

  “I have to make a trip to Topeka tomorrow,” Stone announced one afternoon several weeks later, “to take a look at some cattle one of their local men will be selling. Will you and the children be all right while I’m gone?”

  “We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Don’t worry about us.”

  He crossed the room and pulled
his valise from a shelf. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning, but don’t get up.”

  Stone pulled Juliette into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back in a few days. If you need anything, send Moses into town.”

  She waited until he was asleep, then lit her lamp and wrote him a note. Quietly, after rubbing one of the sweet-smelling bars of soap across the page, she slipped it into his valise.

  Nine

  He frowned, picked up the little paper, and carefully unfolded it, noting a sweet, sweet fragrance that reminded him of the wife he’d left behind in Dove City.

  Dearest Stone,

  I wanted to tell you how much I enjoy being your wife and a mother to Eric and Will. But I find it’s hard to put it into words. If I had my pick of husbands, I’d choose you. I feel privileged to bear the name, Mrs. Stone Piper. I’ll miss you. Hurry home to us.

  All my love,

  Juliette.

  Stone rubbed at his tired eyes and reread her note. Especially the signature line. Smiling, he sat down on the side of the bed, tugged off a boot, and wiggled his toes. Hmm, all my love, huh?

  The smile quickly changed to a frown as the second boot hit the floor with a kerplunk. Most likely she’s just happy to have a nice place for her and her son to live. This time, he lifted the paper to his nose and breathed in the pleasant aroma. I’ve sure got me a fine woman. Beautiful too.

  After refolding the note and slipping it back into his valise, he climbed into bed, crossed his arms behind his head, and lay staring at the ceiling. I promised her I’d leave her alone, and I meant it. I aim to keep my promise.

  With a grunt, he flipped over onto his side and tugged the covers over his head. Sometimes, I want to grab that woman and kiss her like she’s never been kissed.

  Eventually he drifted off to sleep with dreams of a lovely young woman standing on her tiptoes, planting a good-bye kiss on his lips.

  ❧

  Since it was still much too early to begin preparing breakfast, Juliette decided to wash out the shirt Stone had worn the day before he left. As usual, she found his room immaculate. She pulled the shirt from its peg, knowing he’d be pleased to find it freshly laundered when he returned. She was about to dunk it into the wash water when she felt something hard in the pocket. A key. A large key. Like one that would fit a padlock.

  Her heart raced. Could it be a key for one of the boarded-up areas in the barn? Maybe it was the key to the padlock on the mysterious room.

  Remembering Stone’s admonition, she slipped it into her apron pocket, fully planning to place it on the floor, just under the edge of his bed, after she’d finished washing his shirt. He’d think it had fallen out of his pocket when he’d hung it on the peg and never suspect she’d found it.

  Perhaps it is the key to a padlock out in the barn and not the key to the mysterious room, after all, she kept telling herself. The key seemed to grow heavier and heavier in her pocket with each passing moment.

  If the key was the key for the padlock on the mysterious room, what would one tiny peek hurt? Stone would never even have to know. He told me to stay out of that room! her heart said. But the little voice inside her head answered back, Go ahead. Look. He is your husband. There shouldn’t be any secrets between the two of you. As his wife, you have every right to know what’s in that room.

  She stood gazing at the key. Why? Why would Stone want to keep me out of there? It doesn’t make any sense.

  Slipping the key back into her pocket, she hurried outside to hang his shirt on the line. The longer the key remained in her pocket, the more curious she became. It nagged at her, goading her to try it in the padlock.

  Finally, once the boys were down for their afternoon nap, she crept down the hall to the locked room.

  With trembling hands, she lifted the heavy padlock and inserted the key. “Forgive me, Stone,” she whimpered softly, “but I have to try it.”

  She counted to three, giving herself time to change her mind. Knowing, if the key fit and she used it, she’d not only be invading her husband’s privacy but disobeying his orders.

  She gave it a turn.

  The padlock opened.

  Still trembling, and feeling like an intruder, she removed the lock and warily pushed open the door, intending to take a quick peek, then close and lock it. Her mind was filled with all sorts of things she thought she might find in there. Tools. Packing crates. Old clothes. Musty-smelling books. Cobwebs. Spiders.

  But none of those things were what greeted her as she hesitantly pushed open the door.

  Instead, she found a room with sunlight flowing in through expensive, imported lace curtains. The room was filled with French furniture—an ornate chest of drawers, a carved bed head, and an upholstered rocker. Her breath caught in her throat. The rocker. Of course! That’s the rhythmic creaking sound I’ve been hearing during the night. Stone has been rocking in that rocker. But why?

  She stood in the doorway, trying to convince herself to walk away, but she couldn’t. Tiptoeing carefully, knowing she shouldn’t be touching anything but unable to resist, she opened drawers, peeked in boxes, sorted through stacks of linens, and quickly scanned each area of the lovely room. Although she found many items she would like to have for herself, she left everything in its place. It had to have been Lucy’s room!

  She held a lovely silk-fringed scarf to her cheek, reveling in its softness. Had Stone kept all these things locked away, thinking she would be jealous of his dead wife if she saw them? That she would be unable to live with Lucy’s things around her as a constant reminder of the woman he’d said he’d loved more than life itself?

  After folding the scarf and putting it carefully back into its place, she lifted a heavily embellished lace camisole and held it to her bosom. What a lady Lucy must have been. No wonder Stone has never been able to get her out of his mind. She caught sight of her reflection in the tiny mirror hanging above a delicately carved dressing table. Each time Stone looks at me he must be thinking about Lucy! Is that why, at times, he seems moody and distant?

  Being careful to refold the camisole into its original shape, she placed it alongside the scarf, still awed by its beauty. She’d never owned lovely silky things like Lucy’s. A tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered the pristine white hanky Stone had given her. She couldn’t help smiling at the dear, awkward way he’d presented it to her.

  Deciding she’d seen more than enough, she started for the door. But on her way, she caught sight of a beautiful carved chest, quite large by most standards, which stood in the far corner.

  She paused long enough to lift the lid, carefully working her way through its contents. Each piece she found in the chest was even lovelier than the piece before it. What fine things Lucy had, she marveled as she fingered a delicate, beaded, silk purse, trying to imagine where the woman would carry such a costly thing. It seemed Stone’s first wife had had nothing but the finest of everything.

  Next, she found a large, silk drawstring bag containing at least a dozen beautiful handmade Christmas ornaments, many with beads and bangles sewn onto them. She wondered about the Christmas trees Lucy must have decorated with Stone’s help. How sad she died so young, when she had so much for which to live.

  She lifted several layers of intricately embroidered pillowcases and table scarves, but something on the bottom caught her attention. There, neatly stacked together and tied with a red silk ribbon, she found twelve beautifully hand-pieced Flower Basket quilt blocks. In the corner of each one, someone had embroidered the name, Lucy Piper. Probably Lucy herself. She must have died before she finished this magnificent quilt, Juliette thought sadly as she examined each block and its perfect, tiny stitches.

  She placed the blocks back into their corner of the chest, alongside the folds of fabric already cut for the backing and the sashing of the quilt. But as her fingers touched the wonderful blocks, an idea occurred to her. I’ll finish the quilt for Stone for Christmas! That’ll show my husband I’m not offend
ed by having Lucy’s things around me.

  She glanced around, taking in the many crystal vases, fancy pillows, framed pictures, and such. Stone’s boys deserve to see the things their mother held dear. Wouldn’t it be nice if, because of my finishing the quilt for Stone and letting him know I don’t mind having Lucy’s things around, he would open this room and allow the children to see and enjoy their mother’s belongings?

  She removed the fabric and the blocks, holding them close to her as she began to dance about the room. What a delicious idea. He’ll be so pleased. I can just imagine the look on his face on Christmas Day when I present him with Lucy’s quilt.

  She hurriedly put the rest of the things back into the chest, closing the lid with a satisfied smile. This is going to be so much fun. My stitches may not be as perfect as Lucy’s, but I’m sure Stone will never notice. He’ll be so happy to see the finished quilt.

  She hurried into her room, slipped her treasure into a box beneath her bed, then rushed to close the door and secure it with the padlock before placing the key on the floor in his room.

  ❧

  Three days later, Stone walked into his house, hoping he’d be met with the same kind of kiss as his good-bye kiss. But all he got from his wife was a smile and a look that told him she had something on her mind she wasn’t about to share with him.

  ❧

  With discontent among the local Indians and many land disputes, Stone, Zach Nance, and the others found themselves spending much of their time keeping peace between the Indians and the landowners. Juliette hated his being gone so much of the time. While she couldn’t understand why he felt responsible to ride with the men every time the sheriff was out of town or something happened, it did give her time to work on the quilt.

  And although Stone kept close-mouthed about much of what he did, her father kept her well informed of her husband’s heroism, bravery, and talents as a tactful negotiator.

  ❧

  Two days before Christmas, Stone brought home a tree he’d cut from their pasture. The smell of freshly cut pine filled the house as Juliette and the children made crude ornaments from popcorn, paper, twigs, and string. All the time they were making them, she thought about the lovely ornaments in the trunk in Lucy’s room, wondering why Stone didn’t get them for their tree.