by Irene Brand
Grimacing, Janice said, “I might find curtains to fit these windows in Goodwill stores.”
Henrietta put her arm around Janice and hugged her tightly. “I’m proud of you, girl, and I know John would be, too. Not many women your age would take on a project like this. They’d sell the property and all this old stuff and buy everything new. You’re making decisions I wouldn’t even want to make at my age.”
“I’ve always felt hard toward my parents for not taking care of us, but I suppose everything works out for good. If they’d been good parents, I’d never have learned to make decisions when I was a child. And if we’d continued to live with them, Uncle John wouldn’t have left this house to me.”
Henrietta squeezed her shoulders again then released her. “As for curtains—can you sew?”
“I took sewing lessons in vocational classes before I went to VOH. I could probably remember the basics. Why?”
“You can make the curtains out of bed sheets, which wouldn’t cost much. King-size sheets would be long enough to cover the windows. If you want to tackle the curtains, you can borrow my machine, which I seldom use. It’s a portable, and you could bring it here and cut and measure as you go.”
“That sounds like a good plan. I’ll do some shopping tomorrow while Brooke is in school. Saturday, the men from the church are coming to clear the property of underbrush.”
“We’ll need to fix lunch for them, too,” Henrietta said, “for it’ll be an all-day job.”
“What kind of food should I buy?”
“There are sometimes ten of them, so we can figure on that number. Let’s think about the food as we go back to town. My old legs have had all the standing they want.”
Janice locked the house and held her mentor’s arm as they moved to the car. Henrietta had solved several of her problems, but she was disturbed about Brooke’s reactions to the house. After her first outburst of dissatisfaction, she hadn’t said a word. Now she drooped silently in the back seat. Janice had thought her sister would be excited to have a house of their own. She remembered she’d promised Brooke if she was unhappy she could sell Mountjoy and return to Willow Springs—a promise she might have to keep if Brooke’s opinion didn’t change soon. But she’d go ahead with her plans, as the house would bring a better price if she made some inexpensive improvements.
“A picnic-type lunch is the kind to have, for it’s supposed to be hot the rest of the week,” Henrietta said, interrupting her thoughts. “Besides, there’s no place fit to eat inside the house.”
“So we’ll need sandwiches.”
Henrietta nodded. “You can get containers of chicken salad and ham salad at the grocery store deli. And don’t forget cheese cubes and crackers. Apples and bananas will go well, and I’ll make a batch of cookies.” She grinned. “I’ve seen those men eat before, so I know they have big appetites.”
Janice was making mental notes as Henrietta talked. “What about beverages?”
“Get canned pop and bottled water, and a big bag of ice. We can put the beverages and ice in my big cooler. They’ll probably bring something to drink, but it would be hospitable for you to provide something.”
Janice nodded emphatically. “I want to pay my own way.”
When Janice went to pick up Brooke on Friday evening, Lance waited for her.
“We’ll start working at Mountjoy about eight o’clock tomorrow. Can you come out for a while and tell us what trees and shrubs you want to keep?”
“You guys will have a better idea about that than I will, but I’ll be there early. Henrietta and I are preparing lunch for you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I know, but we want to do it.”
How had it happened that in a few short weeks, Lance Gordon had become so interested in her welfare?
Chapter Eight
The next evening as Janice stood on the front porch of Mountjoy and looked toward the highway, she couldn’t believe the transformation in her property. Several trees had been cut down and the logs sawed into lengths, usable for the fireplaces in the house. Two large oak trees and several spruce trees dotted the landscape. The hedge close to the house had been pruned to a height of two feet.
A lilac tree, several forsythia bushes and a rambler rose had been shaped into attractive shrubbery. After the brambles in the backyard had been cut down, the men piled all of the discarded shrubbery on the stack of brush left by the contractor who’d made her road.
“When the contractor burns this, several of us will come and help keep the fire from spreading,” Lance said.
While the men had worked, Janice had swept the front porch. Using a container of hot water she’d brought from Henrietta’s, Janice started cleaning the kitchen. She hummed contentedly as she washed the interior of the refrigerator, which seemed in excellent condition.
When she turned to the cabinets above the sink, her contentment disappeared like air from a deflated balloon. She’d cleaned everything out of these cabinets a few days ago, but on the bottom shelf was a plastic cup, with a sketch of a cemetery headstone inscribed with her name. A cry of dismay escaped Janice’s lips as she backed away from the cabinet, her hand clutching her throbbing throat. Another warning—a warning of death!
She reached for the cup, intending to throw it away, but Henrietta called from the front porch. “Hey, Janice. Where do you want to picnic?”
Janice slammed the cabinet door, leaving the cup where she’d found it. She hurried to meet Henrietta, who stood at the foot of the steps, holding a lawn chair.
“How about the porch?”
“Looks good to me. I’ve got a folding table in the car and we can put the food on it. I brought a chair for myself. The rest of you are younger than I am, so you won’t mind sitting on the ground or the porch floor.”
Trying to force the warning of danger from her mind, Janice unfolded the chair for Henrietta. “You sit here while I carry the food from the car. I intended to come back and help load the food. You should have waited for me,” she scolded.
“I was curious to see what was going on,” Henrietta said. “I left Brooke at the church for the youth meeting, and I’ll pick her up about three o’clock.”
As she settled into the chair, Henrietta gazed with appreciation over the lawn. “They’ve sure done a lot of work. Mountjoy is going to live again. I’m grateful to you, Janice, for deciding to make your home here.”
Janice didn’t answer, because the cup with the gravestone was imprinted in her mind, and she couldn’t think of anything else. But she didn’t want to worry Henrietta or Lance, so she decided to say nothing about it for the time being. As she carried baskets of food from Henrietta’s car, she wondered momentarily if she should report this harassment to the chief of police. She didn’t think it would do any good, as he hadn’t made a report to her about his investigation of the damage to her tires.
Lance tarried after the others left Mountjoy, and he scanned the contents of the outbuilding.
“I’ll help you sort out the good items later on. Looks like there may be several cans of paint and stuff like that. Cecil will no doubt haul the junk away for you.”
“I keep getting further into your debt,” she said, “but I wouldn’t have a clue about what to keep or throw away. If we get rid of some of the junk in this building, I can use the space to store the antiques that I don’t want to use in the house.”
Lance twisted his shoulders and swung his arms in a circular motion. Janice’s pulse quickened as she noted the play of his muscles through the sweat-stained shirt that clung to his back and shoulders. She flushed when he intercepted her glance and she turned away, afraid of what her eyes might reveal to him.
“I’ll probably have a lot of stiff joints tomorrow,” he said, “but we’ve accomplished a lot.”
“Beyond my greatest imagination,” Janice said. “It’s beginning to look like a home. With such a large front yard, I’m surprised there isn’t more land behind the house.”
; The boundary fence was only a few yards from the porch. A barbed wire fence separated her property from her neighbor, where a weathered barn stood close to the fence. “Who owns that property?” she asked.
“Probably Loren Santrock. His home is just over the hill, a mile along the highway, and I think his line extends this far.”
Hesitating to advise Janice, but feeling that he must, Lance said, “There are advantages and disadvantages to what’s been done here this week. You have no trouble driving in here now, or in viewing the land surrounding the house. But on the other hand, anyone else can easily access your property, too.”
Janice laughed at the concern on his face. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t move until I can lock the windows and doors. And I can phone for help if I’m in trouble. We’ll be all right,” Janice said with more assurance than she felt.
“You might consider putting a lock on the gate, too, so you can secure it when you come home at night. The gate and fence aren’t much good, but they’ll do for now.”
“I’ll ask Cecil to take care of it for me.”
“Will I see you at church tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes, Linda invited me to Sunday school, and Brooke wants to come, too.”
As she drove down the driveway in front of Lance, Janice kept thinking about the cup she’d found in the cabinet. Someone had been in the house since she was there with Henrietta two days ago. If the person who’d put the cup in the cabinet had intended to scare her, he’d succeeded. But she wasn’t yet intimidated to the point where she’d cancel her plans to live at Mountjoy.
The Outreach Class of Bethesda Church met for coffee and rolls before the Bible study started. Leaving Brooke at the door of her classroom in the main building, Janice entered the annex and walked down the hallway looking for the meeting room. Her hands were moist and her heartbeat accelerated. Right now, she was less intimidated by the mystery at Mountjoy than she was of meeting a group of new people. She took a deep breath and paused with her hand on the doorknob.
Rapid steps approached behind her and she turned when Linda Mallory called, “Janice, wait for me.”
The words were music to Janice’s ears.
Linda hurried down the hallway. “I’d expected to meet you at the front door,” she said, “but Taylor and I overslept this morning.”
“I’m not at my best meeting new people,” Janice admitted, “so I’m glad you made it before I went inside.”
“Lance will be along soon, so you’ll know two people, at least. He had some things to do in preparation for the worship service.”
There were about thirty people in the room and it sounded as if all of them were talking at once. The chattering was interspersed with a lot of laughing. When Linda entered the room with Janice in tow, she shouted over the conversations, “We have a guest this morning. Make Janice Reid welcome.”
They welcomed Janice like a long-lost friend rather than someone related to the infamous Reids. As often occurred when she least expected it, Janice recalled a Scripture she’d learned at VOH. “I was a stranger, and you took me in.”
Philip Long, the class teacher, had been one of the men who’d worked at Mountjoy on Saturday, and he personally introduced Janice to his wife and several other people. She had always feared to make friends because when she was a child, she’d have a special girlfriend, only to lose her when her parents made a sudden move. But she was soon seated at a table beside Linda, being served chocolate milk and a breakfast roll, and her anxiety about meeting new people had disappeared.
When Lance strolled into the room, he made a beeline for her, shook her hand and said, “Sure is nice to see you this morning. This is a loud bunch, but we enjoy one another.” He sat beside her, and she felt sheltered between Linda and him.
“Everyone has been friendly to me.”
It was no easy task to get the attention of the thirty or so people when Philip called the group to order. “Lance, how about leading us in prayer,” he said.
Everyone automatically clasped the hand of their neighbors and Janice’s hand trembled slightly when Lance gently squeezed her fingers. His prayer was quiet and personal and Janice had never felt nearer to the presence of God than she did when she heard Lance pray.
“We have to wrap up some business about our fall festival project before we start today’s lesson,” Philip said. “For the benefit of our visitors, I’ll explain that we’re spearheading a food and clothing drive for needy families in the county. For the past few years we’ve sponsored a food booth at the town’s fall festival which takes place the first weekend in October. All of us will be needed to work in the booth during the festival. Do we have all of the committees filled?” he asked the secretary.
“No one has volunteered to gather the food that’s been promised and bring it to the booth.”
“Who hasn’t been assigned to a committee?” Philip asked.
The secretary flipped through a notebook she held. With a pointed look in his direction, she said, “Lance hasn’t volunteered for anything.”
A loud sound of good-natured catcalls echoed around the room.
Lance laughed, throwing up his arms in self-defense. “Hey, I’m a busy man. Remember, I’m the guy who looks after your kids.”
“A poor excuse is better than none,” Philip said. “Put him down to head that committee, but we will give him some help. Any volunteers?”
“Most of us are already committed to baking and cooking,” the secretary said. “Why don’t we ask Janice to help him? She needs a job.”
Loud clapping indicated agreement and Janice glanced timidly at Lance. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he thought about having her for a helper.
“That’s fine with me,” Lance said. He looked at her and she nodded agreement.
Janice enjoyed the give-and-take between the teacher and the class as they discussed the Bible lesson, but her mind was busy with thoughts of Lance. Circumstances seemed to throw them together. Although he had been willing to help her at Mountjoy, she didn’t want to infringe on his personal life.
Outwardly Lance seemed nonchalant about this new association with Janice, but inwardly, he was excited. He’d told himself over the past few days that he had to back off and stop seeing Janice so often. Now he’d been given a new reason to seek her company. Was it a good idea for him to see so much of Janice?
Chapter Nine
Stanton didn’t offer many choices in bargain shopping, so Janice spent Monday in the county seat. She went to a secondhand store and found a couch, a matching chair and twin bedsteads for a reasonable price. She intended to take the antique bedroom furniture upstairs where it had been originally. If they remained at Mountjoy she’d arrange for separate rooms for Brooke and herself, but she had to conserve her money for the time being.
She located a huge furniture warehouse where she could buy a stove, refrigerator and new mattresses for their beds. She made note of the information so she could check with Henrietta. More and more, Henrietta was filling the role of the grandmother she’d never had.
After visiting several stores and looking at curtains, Janice decided she could make stylish window coverings out of sheets. She would buy Venetian blinds for the lower sash of the windows to provide privacy and thread long panels through large ornamental loops to fall gracefully to the floor.
Janice met Cecil Smith at the house early on Tuesday morning. He took measurements of all of the windows and drove to a lumber supply company to place the order. There wasn’t much Janice could do about cleaning the floors until Cecil finished his carpenter work. But she had brought water from Henrietta’s to continue cleaning the cabinets in the kitchen and the pantry shelves.
Cecil had contacted a plumber, who would arrive the next day to check the water and sewer lines. Cecil advised her to stop by the water office to make an application.
This was the first time Janice had been alone at Mountjoy, and she was overcome with a sense of desperation when she realized how mu
ch there was to be done to make this place livable. She was also afraid to go into the kitchen and learn if the cup with the tombstone was where she’d left it.
Again, a Scripture verse she’d learned at VOH popped into her head. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. It had taken Janice a long time to make any sense out of that verse until Miss Caroline had explained that worrying about tomorrow wouldn’t solve anything. She’d taught her students to trust God for tomorrow and enjoy each day in His presence.
Knowing that fidgeting around waiting for Cecil to return would only give her more concern, she walked into the kitchen intending to continue cleaning the cabinets and pantry. Fearfully, she opened the cabinet where the foam cup had been. It was gone! Had there been a cup in the cabinet Saturday, or had she dreamed it?
Janice cleaned the pie safe which held Lysol, detergents and other cleaning supplies. After ten years, they’d be worthless. She brought a rusty garbage can in from the side porch and dropped the bottles and cans in it. Mice apparently couldn’t find a way into the second shelf, which held napkins, towels and other paper products. The items were dusty and had picked up a musty smell, so Janice disposed of them, too.
The drawer below the two shelves was full of towels and dishcloths, many of them no longer usable. Salvaging one cloth that was mostly intact, Janice wiped the dust off the shelves. Her hands halted in midair when she glanced at the refrigerator. Although she’d left the door ajar on Saturday, it was closed now. Almost afraid to open the door, Janice jerked on it quickly and stumbled backward.
The cup that had been on the table on Saturday was now in the refrigerator. Angrily, she grabbed the cup, flattened it with her feet and dropped it in the garbage can. If Cecil saw the warning, he might refuse to work on the house, too.
When her heartbeat slowed, Janice continued to work on the pie safe until she had the shelves cleared of debris and ready for washing. Remembering a small wire brush she’d left on the pantry shelves, Janice decided to use it to clean grime from the metal doors.
