The Captive Within (A Prairie Heritage, Book 4)

by Vikki Kestell

  The task had taken longer than any of them had anticipated, and Rose had never been more exhausted. As she dressed in the dim light of early morning she realized with a start that the waistband of her skirt was loose.

  Oh Jan! I can hear you chiding me right now, and I can see your blue eyes, so filled with love and strength. You would insist that I eat more, wouldn’t you? she thought fondly. How I wish you were here.

  She brushed her hair thoroughly, braided it, and twisted the braid into the coil she wore pinned at the back of her head. Cleaning the hair from her brush she sighed. More and more silver strands seemed to find their way into her hairbrush to mix with dark blonde ones.

  The rest of the household was also up early that morning. They were anxious to receive the furniture that the women from Emily’s Bible study group had collected for them.

  “I have never appreciated a real bed as much as I will this evening,” Rose confessed at breakfast. Her comments elicited a generous chorus of agreement.

  David, Uli, their children, and Flinty arrived first, coming down the mountain on the morning train. They brought the household’s remaining personal belongings and more donations from their Corinth church family.

  They also brought young Will back to his mama and Blackie to Joy. Once in Marit’s arms, Will refused to let her set him down or anyone else to take him. He clung to her neck refusing even Billy’s outstretched arms, although he peeped at Billy long enough to exchange happy grins.

  Blackie ran ecstatic circles about Joy. Although not puppy sized any longer, Grant picked Blackie up and held him between himself and Joy while Joy rubbed Blackie’s ears and under his chin. Rose greeted them all with heartfelt embraces, and Mr. Wheatley grinned unabashedly when he saw his old checkers partner.

  Flinty, too was delighted to see them all and kept repeating, “Yep. Sight fer sore eyes, fer certain!” and “Jest what th’ doctor ordered, I’m thinkin’!”

  Breona, however, looked him over, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She sidled up to Uli and, out of the side of her mouth, asked, “Whist? ’Tis off his feed he’s lookin’ t’ me eyes!”

  Uli, still smiling and watching everyone hugging and talking, whispered back, “We’re a little concerned. I don’t think he’s taking very good care of himself. He misses all of you terribly.”

  David and Uli walked over every inch of the house, praising God for the space and the progress they had made. Flinty, eyes bright, slowly followed Mr. Wheatley around, commenting and grinning the entire time.

  Before the real work of the day began, the household and their guests, still chattering happily, gathered in the great room.

  Grant smiled at their swelled ranks and asked for their attention. “Before we truly make this house our home, and while we have many more family and friends gathered here with us, let us take time to thank God for his provision and ask him to bless this house and all we will do here in his name.”

  He turned to David Kalbørg. “Pastor, will you lead us in prayer?”

  “What will you name this house?” David asked first.

  Rose, Joy, and Grant looked at each other and then at the others. “We have been so busy cleaning and repairing, I don’t believe we even considered giving the house a name,” Joy confessed. “Does anyone have a suggestion?”

  All were quiet, thinking on Joy’s question. Finally Marit offered softly, “Mrs. Palmer gave us this vonderful house. Could ve not call it Palmer House?”

  Her suggestion drew several thoughtful nods. Finally Breona replied, “Aye. ’Tis fittin’, I’m thinkin’.”

  As simply as that, the name Palmer House was adopted.

  Every head bowed as David prayed, “Lord, we consecrate this house, Palmer House, to your service. Every room, every hall, every nook and cranny, we dedicate to your purposes. We ask your Holy Spirit to be present and active in this place. We ask that you lead in every decision made here. And especially, Mighty God, we purpose to glorify you with every word spoken and deed accomplished within these walls. We pledge these things in Jesus’ name.”

  Amens sounded across the circle, and then the work began.

  The women from Emily’s Bible study group, true to their word, had arranged for two wagons and a few strong young men to haul the donated furnishings to the house. The first loads arrived mid-day, and chaos reigned as everyone from the house swarmed out to the street, chattering and laughing, to unload the bounty.

  “Mama, don’t look now,” Joy said quietly, “But we have an audience.”

  Rose, of course, looked around immediately. Several neighbors stared askance from their front gates or the upper windows of nearby houses.

  “Oh dear,” she murmured. “Perhaps we should ask everyone to talk softly.”

  “They are only enjoying themselves, Mama,” Joy pointed out.

  Joy stepped to the edge of the street and, with a wide smile plastered on her face, waved in a friendly manner to each person she saw watching. Reluctantly, several returned her neighborly greeting.

  One woman, though, frowned and appeared to stomp back down the walkway to her front door. Joy gazed after her, hand still upraised.

  With everyone helping to bring the furnishings into the house, the wagons emptied quickly. As the men offloaded the cargo, they placed the heavy pieces to the side but handed boxes and lighter items to the women to carry in.

  Breona stood on the front porch and directed where the things would go. Blackie raced in and out of the house, following Joy or Grant and generally getting underfoot.

  As soon as they emptied the two wagons, the drivers left to refill them. Inside the house, the great room was cluttered with bedroom furniture. Breona was sorting out the different bedsteads and chest of drawers.

  “If ye be wishin’ t’ hev a certain bed, will ye be lettin’ me know?” she asked.

  Immediately the girls were examining the headboards and dressers and calling their preferences. Some beds and dressers were obvious matching sets, well worn but serviceable; others pieces were one-of-a-kind, and the girls were compelled to mix and match.

  It didn’t take long before a squabble broke out. Nancy asked for a small cherry bedstead with a tiny matching nightstand and chest of drawers. Tabitha, setting her jaw, insisted she had already asked for it.

  “Why, of course you didn’t,” Nancy exclaimed. “Billy and Mr. Wheatley only just now brought it in!”

  In a matter of seconds, their quarrel turned ugly and their jabs became personal and hurtful. Rose walked into the great room just as Tabitha loosed a string of colorful curse words at Nancy and Nancy, in response, slapped Tabitha in the face. Tabitha clenched her fist and raised it.

  “Nancy! Tabitha!” Rose’s tone was sharp, and both girls drew themselves up abruptly. Nancy had a guilty look on her face, but Tabitha was seething. Most of the household was standing about gawking and amazed at how quickly the confrontation had escalated.

  Rose had not yet had to deal with an all-out fight, and she was not about to permit one now. “Nancy and Tabitha, the two of you will be the last to select beds,” she decreed. “In fact, I am inclined to say you should both continue to sleep on the floor until such time as I say otherwise.”

  Eyes around the room widened. None of them had seen Rose in a righteous anger before. She looked around gravely and reminded all of them, “Was it only a few hours ago we committed our actions and our words to the glory of God? Therefore, rudeness, quarreling, and cursing are not acceptable under this roof. Nancy and Tabitha, you will apologize to each other and to everyone here, immediately.”

  Nancy, already sorry for her part, quickly responded. “I am sorry, Tabitha. And I apologize for my bad behavior, everyone.”

  Tabitha scowled and fixed her mouth in a straight line. Rose raised an eyebrow and said firmly, “You had best get it over quickly, Tabitha. I will not tolerate strife in this house.”

  Tabitha stared at her, weighing her options. Finally she shrugged. “I apologize.”

  “Y
ou will please apologize first to Nancy and then to the rest of the house,” Rose insisted.

  Tabitha gave a short laugh under her breath. “All right.” She turned to Nancy. “I apologize, Nancy. And I apologize to everyone else.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said watching her closely. Tabitha nodded, then turned to Breona. “Where would you like this bedding?” She held up a stack of blankets tied together with twine.

  “Second bedroom on th’ left will do foine,” Breona replied evenly. Tabitha nodded and headed upstairs. With that the rest of the household shook themselves and picked up where they’d left off.

  Rose watched Tabitha go thoughtfully. The woman’s heart was harder than the rest of the girls’ in the house. Rose wondered again if Tabitha was going to develop into a serious problem.

  By that evening many of the rooms in the house were comfortably furnished. The great room held an eclectic collection of overstuffed chairs, ottomans, and sofas. The dining room had a real table, long enough to seat them all, and a variety of dining chairs. Joy counted chairs from four different dining sets but, arranged artfully, they did not seem to clash too terribly.

  Billy, with Grant’s assistance, moved a bed, a large chest of drawers, and Will’s baby bed into the tower room they had been using on the third floor; Joy and Grant added furniture, a few personal items, and a basket for Blackie to another room on that floor. Both couples would eventually be moving to what were now the carriage house and the caretaker’s cottage, but that day seemed a long ways off today.

  Mr. Wheatley settled into the butler’s quarters with a small bed and lamp stand, sighing as he settled his old bones into the mattress. They had made up a bed for Flinty in the Butler’s pantry close by.

  David, Uli, and their children departed for a nearby hotel. They would come by in the morning to collect Flinty and catch the train back up the mountain.

  —

  Esther had known Cal for little more than four weeks, but she had found him to be smart, kind, and a terrific lover. As the house’s madam, she didn’t service clients herself, but Cal was no longer a client in her eyes.

  She only saw him once or twice a week and, lately, it hadn’t been enough for her. He looked at her with such admiration and spoke such sweet praise into her ears. She found herself longing to hear his voice and to feel his hands, more and more often.

  When she asked him what he did for a living, though, he simply replied that he was in business for himself. The details he provided were vague, except that the demands of his work kept him too busy to see her as often as she would like.

  One evening he offered a few suggestions regarding her house, and Esther, to her surprise, found them constructive. Here is a man I could depend on, she thought one late night after the customers had gone.

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 10

  (Journal Entry, July 16, 1909)

  We had unexpected visitors just before dinner today, a party of four of our neighbors, two men and two women. They were stony faced and I knew we were going to be tested.

  Breona showed them into the parlor (our nicest room at present) where Joy, Grant, and I received them. I am grateful for your wisdom, Lord, for it took all we had.

  Mr. and Mrs. Brewster were solemn and mostly quiet. A Mr. Haney and Miss DeWitt did most of the speaking: “We represent the interests and concerns of the neighborhood,” “It is rumored that you have opened an establishment for ‘soiled doves’,” and lastly, “This neighborhood is not zoned for boarding houses” were their main points, as I recall.

  Joy was simple and direct, explaining that the girls had been forced into prostitution but, by God’s grace, were no longer so engaged. They were, at present, either working at or seeking honest employment.

  I may be exaggerating when I say that Miss DeWitt’s eyes nearly fell out of her head when Joy calmly used the word “prostitution.”

  Of course, dear Lord, I remember how difficult it was at first for us to use words such as brothel and prostitute. I suppose I am not as sheltered from the harsh realities of the world as I once was.

  Grant clarified that we do not operate a boarding house but rather a small vocational school. He showed them our charter and proceeded to tell them of our training in fine household furnishings and the culinary arts. God bless Arnie for applying for such a variance from the city! Of course Mrs. Palmer’s influence was instrumental in its approval.

  Lastly, we took the group on a tour and introduced them to our little family. Everyone in our household dresses so practically and the house itself already has such a sweet, homey atmosphere. Marit and Gretl were in the kitchen preparing dinner and all the while Will was laughing and banging his little cup on his highchair when we passed through the kitchen.

  We invited them to stay for dinner, but they declined very graciously, I must say, so we sent them on their way bearing plates of Marit’s Swedish ginger cookies. Perhaps they will become regular customers!

  Oh, I know I am being glib, Lord. We only hope that they will not stir up trouble against us. Mr. Wheatley handed the ladies down the porch steps in true gentlemanly fashion.

  He reported that Miss DeWitt wasn’t quite won over and began complaining almost immediately that Mr. Haney had not been forceful enough. That is until Mrs. Brewster responded (quite firmly, Mr. Wheatley insisted), “Cora, do hush up. I declare you have the compassion and intelligence of a fruit fly.”

  —

  “Now that we are settled in, shouldn’t we ask the Lord to direct us to a church?” Grant asked at breakfast Sunday morning. “It has been weeks since we left Corinth and our little church there.”

  No one responded at first. A few of the girls looked nervous at the proposition, and it wasn’t hard for Rose or Joy to understand why. It had been less than three months since some of them had left their past profession. How would a new church receive them?

  Rose spoke carefully. “Perhaps we should ask Emily’s pastor to pay us a visit. He does know of our work here, of course. We could discuss how to best approach finding a church home.”

  Grant nodded, and the tension at the table relaxed.

  —

  “Rose, may I introduce Pastor Jamison? Pastor, this is Mrs. Thoresen,” Emily said formally the following Wednesday.

  “Mrs. Thoresen, so pleased to finally meet you,” Pastor Jamison said while holding her hand and smiling kindly. He was tall, gray haired, and a bit stooped. He may have been older than Rose, but his eyes, even while over shadowed by bushy, white brows, were young and lively.

  “Thank you for calling on us,” Rose replied. She immediately liked the man’s steady voice and clear eyes. “Would you care to take tea or would you like to see the house first?”

  “Oh, I enjoy my tea very much, ma’am, but I confess I have been looking forward to seeing your progress! It has been many years since I have been here.”

  “Then we will see the house first,” Rose answered, smiling at both him and Emily. “This is our parlor,” she said, showing them to the left side of the house. “We will take tea here when we are done.”

  Rose escorted them through the downstairs, taking them next to the great room, dining room, and kitchen. On the second floor she showed them the empty rooms but only one of the girls’ bedrooms before advancing to the third floor.

  “We respect each other’s privacy,” Rose explained. “Sarah and Corrine granted permission for me to show you their room today.”

  She did not mention the small row she’d had with Tabitha earlier in the day. “I don’t want some stranger looking at and touching my things!” Tabitha had raised her voice to Rose and attached a descriptive curse word to the word “stranger” before Rose had even had the opportunity to assure the girls that she would guard their privacy.

  “Please tell the young ladies for me that I appreciate their kind regard,” Pastor Jamison replied.

  On the third floor she showed them Billy and Marit’s tower room, the unoccupied bedrooms, and the old servant qua
rters. Eventually they ended at the six steps leading to the attic.

  “The attic door is locked,” Rose murmured. “We have not yet opened it.”

  Pastor Jamison’s brows drew together and he replied softly, “I do understand. Perfectly.”

  Rose did not understand, but tucked his comment away, determined to ask Emily about it later. She escorted her guests back to the parlor and Breona appeared straight away with their donated tea service. The tray also held Marit’s ginger cookies and a plate of steaming scones.

  “Wonderful!” Pastor Jamison exclaimed, observing the goodies with gusto.

  After Rose had served the tea, she broached her subject. “Pastor Jamison, I confess I had a purpose in mind when I asked Mrs. Van der Pol to bring you to meet us.”

  “Yes? Please do feel at ease to ask me anything.” The gentle old man took another bite of ginger cookie, obviously enjoying himself.

  “Well, we, as a household, are in need of a home church,” Rose answered. “Since we are a company of 15, 16 if we include Mr. and Mrs. Evans’ little one, our arrival would surely not be overlooked and would, I believe, engender questions . . .”

  She cleared her throat and took a sip of tea herself. “I suppose I am asking if we would be welcomed at your church, given the, shall we say, unorthodox history of some of our household.”

  Rose looked to Emily who nodded encouragement to continue. “While curiosity is perfectly normal, we would not wish to . . . offend any of your parishioners, nor would we wish our girls to be the recipients of any . . . judgmental comments or harshness.”

  Pastor Jamison set his cup down and folded his hands on his knee, and he nodded that he understood.

  “I pray I am not being too forward,” Rose pressed on, “but frankly, several of our girls are not yet Christians and have never been to church. We would not wish them to experience . . . a cool reception . . . rather than the presence and power of Christ.”