They walked, hand in hand along a row of graves until they seemed to stop.
“Let me pace this out so we can tell where all the rows are.” Nolan dropped Holly’s hand and walked what was probably the depth of the cemetery. They had walked the first row lengthwise. Now it was clear where each aisle was once Nolan measured his steps between them.
Holly walked the next row while Nolan walked the next, their footsteps marking the cemetery in a grid.
“Stones! Look for piles of stones!” Holly exclaimed excitedly. “The ground was still partially frozen, and we piled stones around the two new crosses.”
“Some tribes mark graves with stone cairns. Other’s use a burial scaffold for above ground burials.” He’d seen both types while on trails through the territory. “Your father might have marked your mother’s grave with stones because of her heritage.”
Holly moved to stand in the middle of the cemetery, looking up and down the rows of graves.
“There. The snow has melted around a small pile of rocks...and... There’s the other grave, about three rows to the right.”
Her facial expressions changed from excitement over finding the rocks, to silent shock, realizing who laid below those rocks she’d just discovered. Her mother and sisters.
She stood stock still as Nolan brushed the snow from one rectangular grave and then the other, giving Holly the image of two distinct markers. Both piles of rocks matched, although there wasn’t a wooden marker now on either grave.
Nolan walked over to Holly, pulling her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She reached her hands to tightly hold his arms. He held her a long time as the whispering cold wind blew around them, trying to give her warmth as she grieved the loss of her family again.
A fierce wish of protecting Holly in the future filled Nolan’s heart. Was it because Holly had no one else in her life to do it, or was it a stronger feeling, maybe love growing in his heart for her?
“My mother’s last words to my father were ‘Don’t trap my spirit in the earth.’ Even though she was barely conscious she was begging him not to bury her.” Nolan turned Holly around and embraced her, as she sobbed into his chest. His face felt frozen with the tears dripping down his own face, but he couldn’t let go of her to wipe them away. Giving Holly comfort was more important than cold cheeks.
Holly finally pulled away and looked back to her mother’s grave. Her face was all red and splotchy from crying and soon would be cold, too.
“Father later explained that mother’s people preferred to be buried in a tree or left above ground for a length of time, so their spirit was free to leave. Burying the body in the ground right away trapped the spirit in the earth.”
“That was so long ago, and you were a young child. How can you remember that?”
“We talked about it before he died last year. That’s why he played the violin at her grave. It was his way of calling her spirit up to the sky, and why…he wanted me…to play beside his grave…so they could be together again.”
“Oh, Holly,” was all Nolan could choke out as a new wave of sobs wracked Holly’s body.
Now he remembered scenes from his parent’s funerals, pulling him into his own past grief. And how long before he might be burying his grandparents? Why had he waited so long to come home? At least he was home now to take care of them.
But who would take care of Holly? How about me? I want to because I’m falling in love with her.
Kaitlyn had thoughtfully left plates of food on her kitchen table and a note saying they were both at the parsonage if they needed them.
Nolan was sure Pastor probably dragged Kaitlyn over there, thinking Holly might need some quiet time alone instead of Kaitlyn’s smothering. Actually, Nolan wasn’t sure which would have been best.
Holly played her violin in the cemetery until her fingers were too numb to push down the strings, but it seemed to satisfy her. Nolan promised he’d make new markers before their next trip to the cemetery. Actually, instead of making them himself, he was going to talk to the blacksmith about fashioning iron crosses for the graves. If the blacksmith wasn’t busy, maybe he could get them finished by Christmas. He could drive Holly out to the cemetery on Christmas Day if the weather were nice.
“You missed a spot!” Gramps grumbled as he sat at the kitchen table watching Nolan blacken the kitchen stove. Holly had insisted they start cleaning his grandparent’s house, even though it had to be hard for Holly to go from the silent graves of her family to a harping ungrateful man who clearly didn’t want her in his house.
“All right. I’ll rub it again.”
“Where’d that woman go? Don’t know why she’s here anyway.” His grandfather stomped his cane on the wood floor to emphasize his point.
“Grandma needs help catching up on the housework, and Miss Brandt is helping her. They’re cleaning the front rooms.” And Nolan was trying to clean the kitchen up to Grampa’s standards. For not seeing some things clearly, he sure noticed anything Nolan missed.
Fortunately, his grandmother had seemed relieved for the help, and Nolan could hear them quietly talking in the other room. When Holly had taken their rugs outside to hang and air out on the clothesline, Nolan told his grandparents about their morning trip. It had softened his grandmother’s heart to Holly, but his grandfather continued to ignore her, or talk gruffly towards her.
Remember thinking this morning you were so grateful your grandparents were still alive? Nolan knew it was going to be an adjustment for all of them, but the rewards would be worth it...once the house was clean and they got into a routine.
Now Nolan was worried about the café. Obviously, his grandfather couldn’t help anymore. Would he sit in the kitchen anyway, telling Nolan how to do everything? Nolan took a deep breath and said a silent prayer for patience.
“Knock, knock! Anyone home?” A woman had just opened and walked in the front door. He wasn’t sure since he was in the kitchen but it sounded like...Mary.
His grandmother walked into the kitchen trailed by Mary and apparently her two children. Holly reluctantly followed the group into the room.
“Dan, look who’s here, and with a cherry pie,” his grandma sweetly announced.
“Well if it isn’t three of my favorite people with my favorite dessert!” Nolan was shocked by his grandfather’s change in demeanor.
“Come here and sit on your grandpa’s lap,” he motioned to the children.
Grandpa?
“Nolan, I’d like you to meet my children, Burdette and Nolan.” Both children said a shy hello to Nolan, but both stole glances at Holly who stood in the doorway.
“Nice to meet you, too, children. This is my friend, Miss Brandt.” Nolan reached toward Holly hoping she’d walk toward him, but she chose to stay by the door and said her “hello” from there.
After his grandfather whispered something in the boy’s ear, little Nolan jumped off his lap and stood in front of Nolan.
“Grandpa says you’re my new poppa, ‘cause we have the same name!” The child’s words shocked Nolan.
“What? No, Nolan. I can’t be your father, because I’m not married to your mother.” Nolan quickly glanced around the room seeing smiles on everyone’s face except for Holly.
“Then get married!” The boy jumped up and down, excited he’d thought of the solution all by himself.
It became crystal clear his grandparents had planned this reunion between him and Mary. And they thought it would be easier by involving Mary’s children to sway the outcome.
Holly sadly looked at Mary and her children before slipping out of the kitchen. Why did she leave? Was she afraid he would choose Mary and the children over her?
He’d much rather be planning a wedding to...Holly instead of Mary. He looked back at Mary, who had a questioning smile on her face. Was Mary hoping he’d ask her to marry him or had she realized he had feelings for Holly?
After an awkward silence between the adults, Mary motioned her ch
ildren to her side. “Well, it looks like you’re busy so we’ll leave. Enjoy the pie.”
“Thank you, Mary. I’ll walk you to the door,” his grandma politely said as she carefully walked out of the kitchen behind the children.
Nolan attacked the stove with renewed vigor. Maybe it did need another rubdown of stove blacking. The obvious rust showed it hadn’t be cleaned weekly, as it should have been.
“Mary would make a good wife, Nolan. And you’d already have the start of a family, even a Nolan Junior.”
“Right now I want to concentrate on helping you and getting the café open again.” Nolan rubbed harder on a now non-existent spot of rust.
“You loved her years ago.” True, but did he love her now? It wasn’t the same as what he felt for Holly though now.
“Our lives have changed Gramps, and I don’t see our paths crossing more than seeing each other at church on Sunday.” Was that clear enough for his grandfather, without telling him to mind his own business?
Nolan stood up and rolled his shoulders. “The stove is looking better. I’ll put these cleaning supplies away and check on Holly.” Nolan picked up the rag and tin of blacking and walked out the back door without saying another word to his grandfather. He needed a few minutes of cold air to blast the heat in his building temper, and talk with the hurt woman who mistook a conversation his grandfather initiated.
It didn’t surprise Nolan that Holly was taking out this afternoon’s frustration on the rugs hanging on the clothesline. She might have been thinking about swinging the rug beater at his grandfather’s head the way she was beating the current rug.
“Holly, I’m sorry but...”
“No, don’t say a word.” She whacked the rug one more time before handing him the beater and wrapping her arms around her waist.
“I’ll look for another job. I’m sure the Reagans can help me out.”
“What are you talking about? I thought we’d start working at the café this evening?”
“Obviously your grandfather doesn’t want me in his house or his café. He wants Mary, Burdette, and Nolan Junior by your side instead.”
Was Holly jealous of Mary? The thought made him smile at first, but then made him sad. Mary wore pretty clothes, had a nice place to live, a new store about to open, and white skin. Nolan didn’t even think about Holly’s skin color. Why did other people? Her soul was what was important, not the signs of her heritage, which he wished she’d be proud of anyway. But that was hard to do with all the strife between the native and white nations in the past, and at times, still in the present according to some people.
Holly was trembling. She had her cape on and had been beating a rug so she couldn’t be cold.
Nolan wanted to knock his forehead. Holly was exhausted and overwhelmed from this entire week of travel and change, without a decent night’s sleep. The emotions of this morning would overwhelm anyone, and then this afternoon she was cleaning a house for someone who didn’t want her there.
How could he be so blind to her distress? And then he just said they’d start cleaning the café next?
What was that Swedish word Mrs. Hamner always said for “jackass”? Dumskalle! Yep, that’s what he was today, and it was time to apologize.
Nolan tossed the rug beater on the ground and wrapped his arms around Holly’s shoulders.
“I’m so sorry for asking you to help with my grandparents today, Holly. You needed time to reflect on this morning, or just sleep.”
He laid his cheek against the top of her head while he waited for her to stop trembling.
“I can’t imagine running the café without you though. Please try it. I know my grandfather will be upset if we change anything in his kitchen, but he’ll come around, and be proud it’s open again.”
“Nolan...”
“And we won’t start in the café until Monday. Sleep all you want tomorrow, take a long hot bath, play your violin, whatever you feel like.”
“What about Sunday?”
“Expect Kaitlyn to proudly introduce you to everyone in the church, and to be the guest of honor at her Sunday dinner. In other words, you need tomorrow, to rest up for Sunday.”
Holly gave a resigned sigh against his chest, warming his heart, knowing she just agreed. Nolan gave her a soft kiss on her forehead before turning her toward the house. Let’s get your hat and reticule from the house, and I’ll walk you over to the parsonage.”
As soon as Nolan opened the parsonage door and Holly saw Kaitlyn’s outstretched arms, the tears started to flow, from both women. Nolan backed out the door without saying a word. It saddened him to see Holly in such a state, but Kaitlyn was the right person to guide Holly toward the healing she needed.
What about the future? Did he want to be the one Holly turned to?
Chapter 12
Friday afternoon, after a long talk with Kaitlyn, while sipping hot chocolate, the woman sent her to bed with a warmed brick for her feet and a hot water bottle to hug. Holly slept until her bladder protested at nine o’clock the next morning.
Holly spent Saturday in the kitchen beside Kaitlyn, baking bread, and pies for the Reagan family Sunday dinner, or sitting at the kitchen table talking about everything under the sun. Of course, Holly couldn’t help but tell Kaitlyn her life’s story. The woman had a way of making a person feel comfortable in talking about himself or herself, and it felt good to have someone listen without judging her. Kaitlyn told her own story of traveling to America and the problems she faced, making Holly feel a special kinship with her.
Kaitlyn also told her about every possible thing she could think of about who lived in Clear Creek. Where a family lived before moving into town and when they’d arrived. How many children they had, what the husband did for a living, personality traits, and on and on in detail.
Holly had a better idea of what had been going on with the Clancy’s and their café too, which would give her better patience and empathy in dealing with them. Dan was upset with his loss of mobility and strength, and lashed out at everyone, especially Edna, who wasn’t in much better health herself.
Pastor Reagan read them his sermon after lunch, dutifully writing Kaitlyn’s comments on the margins of his paper. Holly guessed this was a Saturday ritual, although Kaitlyn confessed after her husband left the kitchen, her suggestions were never added anyway. And she laughed about it, not at all upset, as some people would be.
The three of them each had private time in the kitchen bathing in the tin tub. Washing and combing out her long hair had been long overdue and improved her spirits with that act alone.
A knock and opening of the back door after supper didn’t surprise Kaitlyn, but it did Pastor and Holly. Two young men walked in, calling out their greetings as they took off their coats, kicked off their boots, and left everything by the back door. They’d been trained because Kaitlyn hadn’t yelled “boots off” as she did to Nolan.
“Holly, you’ve met Mack, but I’d also like you to meet Gabe Shepard. I told you all about his family today. These two, along with our sons, Seth and Tully, who won’t be in tonight, will be providing the special music tomorrow. Gabe, this is Holly Brandt, who is going to run the café with Nolan.”
“Why am I the last to know about ‘special music’ tomorrow?” Pastor grumbled under his breath while narrowing his eyes at his wife. She just smiled and didn’t say a word.
“And why are we practicing tonight, Ma? We can sing any Christmas carol you want because we know them all by heart anyway.”
Holly froze when Kaitlyn turned her sweet smile to her. She was up to something, already getting to know this woman.
“Well, Holly is an accomplished violinist, so I thought she could accompany you tomorrow. It was only fair that you should practice with her tonight.”
Holly only had a second to panic before Mack burst out laughing and walked over to give her shoulders a sideways hug.
“Welcome to the Reagan family, Holly. Ma has adopted you, so be prepared for her ambushes
for the rest of your life.”
Gabe gave her a wink and smile. “Don’t worry, I was ‘adopted’ too when I moved to town and—most of the time—it’s been a good thing.”
“Actually, that is a good idea, Holly. Playing at the very first meeting of the townspeople will help them accept you. I’m sure my wife has filled you in on everyone in town and around the area, good and bad. Hold your head high, smile, and become part of the community immediately by playing tomorrow.” Pastor punched the air with his fist to emphasize his point.
“It will go a long way in making people come back to the café, too,” Kaitlyn said in a serious tone.
Her stomach felt queasy. But, Holly realized that in Miller Springs she should have been involved in the community, so she should go with the Reagan’s advice now.
“All right, I’ll do it. What song are you singing tomorrow?”
Holly’s question made Mack shrug his shoulders as if he didn’t know.
“Da? What’s the theme of your sermon tomorrow?”
“It’s Saint Lucia Day for the Swedes in our congregation, so I’ll tell the story of how the saint brought light and food to the starving people on the darkest night of the year.”
“Oh good! Hamners bringing cookies?” Mack rubbed his hands together.
Kaitlyn laughed. “Yes, Annalina Hamner said she and her daughter-in-law, Cora, would make and bring ginger cookies. One of the Hamner granddaughters, I’m not sure which one will be St. Lucia this year, but anyway, one of the girls will wear the white robe, red sash, and candle crown. She does the procession at the end of the service and serves cookies to the congregation as they leave their pews. Then several older cousins will have cups and pour coffee at the back of the church to go with the cookies.
“Holly, do you happen to know the Neapolitan song, “Santa Lucia”?” Kaitlyn hummed a few bars.
“I’m familiar with the tune, why?”
“That’s the tune, with Swedish words of course, to which the girl walks up the aisle for the ceremony. The Hamners always just sing it, but maybe you can play along?”
Nolan's Vow (Grooms with Honor Book 8) Page 13
