Secrets of My Heart

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Secrets of My Heart Page 10

by Tracie Peterson

Nancy almost laughed out loud. She didn’t own a pair of yellow gloves, nor had she ever needed them.

  She dried her hands on her apron and headed back to the dining room to see the ladies off. She smiled at poor Cornelia, who had changed her entire ensemble to match the pale blue gloves she now wore.

  “I will see you ladies at four,” Nancy said.

  As they reached the front door, Seth Carpenter was just coming up the walk. Nancy quickly raised a hand to her hair, hoping she didn’t look too bad.

  “Mr. Carpenter,” Bedelia said as she stepped through the doorway. “I’m afraid Mrs. Pritchard is not receiving. Sister and I are just heading out, and she will be very much alone.”

  Seth smiled and tipped his hat. “Ladies.” He looked past Bedelia to Nancy. “Are you going to town?”

  “Not me. They are,” Nancy replied. “I plan to work here.”

  “Wonderful. Then I can discuss some business with you.”

  “That would hardly be appropriate without someone else here,” Bedelia replied, looking down her pointed nose.

  “Mrs. Weaver is here. She is chaperone enough.” Nancy was eager to dismiss the meddlesome sisters. She wanted to talk to Seth and learn what he had to discuss.

  “It’s not appropriate for a young widow to entertain a man in the house alone. Mrs. Weaver will not even venture from her room, and Mr. Carpenter’s sister and Mrs. Bryant have gone shopping. A young widow such as yourself cannot receive a man in such circumstances.” Bedelia looked at Nancy as if daring her to say otherwise. She had the tone of a disapproving mother, and Nancy had little patience for her.

  “I am a grown woman—a widow and a homeowner, Miss Clifton. I believe I know how to care for myself. Not only that, but this man is my lawyer.”

  “It isn’t a matter of knowing how to care for yourself, nor his occupation. This is about your reputation and modesty. To have a man in the house without the company of others suggests a far too intimate situation. Added to that is his obvious interest in you and the fact that you have gone out together as a potential courting couple.”

  “We are hardly courting,” Nancy protested and looked to Seth for support. “He’s here as my lawyer. I have to manage my late husband’s affairs.”

  Her frustration was mounting by the minute. How dare this homely spinster challenge her integrity?

  “A godly woman would guard her reputation at all costs,” Bedelia said in her authoritative manner. “A Christian woman would know the value of such things.”

  “So now you’re telling me I’m not a Christian?”

  Bedelia merely looked at Nancy as if waiting for her to get the joke.

  Nancy was in no mood. “Perhaps I need less judgmental tenants.”

  “Ladies, I believe I have a solution. Nancy, you and I can sit on the porch in plain view of the world. I won’t keep you long, and that way your reputation will be in no way compromised.” Seth smiled at Bedelia. “Would that be acceptable, Miss Clifton?”

  Bedelia considered the matter for a moment. “I suppose it would suffice.” She looked at Nancy. “It is not my place to judge the heart, but the appearance of evil must be managed for the sake of all who live here.” She raised her chin a little higher and turned to Cornelia. “Let’s go, sister. We’re already late due to your gloves.”

  The two women made their way down the steps and headed downtown. Nancy wanted to throw something at them. How dare they treat her like a wanton woman! All simply because she saw nothing wrong with inviting her lawyer into the house. And that was all it was. After all, she’d grown up with Seth being around all the time. What was the harm now?

  “I’m sorry about that.” She moved to the open door. “Come on in.”

  Seth shook his head. “Let’s just stay out here. I offered the solution, and it’s not an uncomfortable day. Besides, you have a lovely porch.” He went to the rocker and plopped down.

  “I won’t be dictated to by those religious harpies. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Nancy stormed over to the wicker settee. “I’m a woman of honorable reputation.” The more she reiterated that fact, however, the guiltier she felt.

  “I agree. Just think of it this way. You saved poor Miss Clifton from spending the afternoon thinking of what sinful things we might have done had we gone inside the house.” He smiled. “Honestly, Nancy, don’t let it bother you. Perhaps her faith and self-control aren’t as strong as yours.”

  “I’m just tired of people having something to say about what I do or don’t do. People are always judging me.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Nancy sat down, feeling a weariness seep through her body. “Since I was a child I’ve felt falsely judged. I had the best of intentions but was often told otherwise. My teachers, for example, believed me to be divisive if I suggested there might be another solution to a problem. Math, for instance. I was quite good at math, but there were times when I found other ways to solve a problem. They were unwilling to hear me out and told me I was a troublemaker.”

  Seth couldn’t seem to refrain from smiling, which only heightened Nancy’s frustration.

  “What’s wrong with using a different solution for the same problem?” she asked. “I find different solutions all the time. I believe it’s more important to save time and effort. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Well, in the case of math, it can completely alter the answer. For example, if you should add or subtract when multiplication is called for, you will end up with a wrong answer. Say you are looking for the square footage of a room and decide to add the length and width instead of multiply?”

  “Yes, well, that’s not the way I did things.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Forget mathematics. People like Miss Clifton misjudge me where religious matters are concerned. I thought Christians were supposed to love one another and treat others as better than themselves. Instead I’ve been misjudged and condemned most of my life. And all because I dare to question God or the religious people who run His churches.”

  Seth nodded. “There are some very judgmental people in the world. No doubt about that.”

  “And now that woman has the audacity to question whether I’m even a Christian.”

  His expression softened. “Now, to be fair, she didn’t really say that.”

  “Well, maybe I’m not.” Nancy let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve tried to live by the rules and failed miserably. I grew up in a Christian family and presumed that made me a Christian as well. Especially since I believed the same things they did. One God, three parts—although it’s terribly hard to understand the whole Father-Son-Holy Ghost concept.” She cocked her head to one side. “My father did a good job with that one time using an apple as an example. He told me it was just one apple, but it had skin and seeds and fruit—all very distinctive parts. Yet still one apple.” She shook her head. “I’m digressing. I simply mean that I know what the Bible says, and I try to live my life as a good woman. Then someone like Bedelia Clifton comes along and suggests otherwise, and it makes me angry.”

  “But being good doesn’t make you a Christian, Nancy. Being a Christian means you are ‘of Christ.’ You believe in Jesus and follow His ways—you accept Him as your Savior and pattern your life around His teachings.”

  “I’ve tried.” Nancy thought back to the day her brother Douglas had died of the measles. “Do you remember that I had another brother?”

  “Douglas.” Seth smiled and nodded. “He was a sweet little boy, and I remember you two were always together. It was almost as if he were your baby.”

  “He was, in many ways. Mama was always so busy.” Nancy smiled. “I was just seven when Doug was born. Gabe was ten, and James was four and always into mischief. Our poor mother had her hands full just in seeing to him.”

  “Speaking of James, I hear he is back east at seminary, becoming a minister.”

  Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, much to our parents’ absolute delight. I suppose all that rambunctious nonsense he pulled as a chi
ld has given itself over to pious study and a desire to live a quiet and worshipful life.”

  Seth laughed. “That is often the case with children we think are headed to a bad end. I’m glad to see James found his way. Now, please continue. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  She calmed and shrugged. An image of Douglas came to mind, his sweet cherub face framed with dark curls. “Doug was everything to me. Mama would nurse him and then hand him off to me to care for. He was born just before school was out for the summer, so we had all that time together. When fall came, I begged my mother to let me remain at home, but she said my education was too important. Every day when I came home from school, I would find the baby and take care of him. Being with him was all I wanted. By the next summer when he was one, I was completely devoted to him. I felt like he was my own.”

  “I remember that. Every time I saw you, Douglas was on your hip.”

  She grew sad, hating to remember the loss. “Everything changed for me after Douglas died.”

  “It was hard on Gabe too.”

  Nancy looked at him. “I didn’t know that. Gabe never talked about it.”

  “He did with me. He cried a lot. It was such a sad situation. My whole family was devastated. You might recall that Clementine had the measles at the same time. Apparently, a lot of folks did.”

  “I didn’t know that. I was so focused on Douglas.” She remembered his ragged cough and fevered brow. “I felt so helpless. He was so sick. I prayed and prayed, and still he died.”

  “I’m so sorry, Nancy. I know it must have been devastating for you and your family.”

  “Father kept talking about how we’d see Douglas again one day and how death wasn’t the end. He made the loss seem trivial, and for me it was anything but. I prayed so hard for Doug. I sat at his bedside, wiping him down with vinegar water, talking to him, holding him. I had the measles quite young so I was at no risk, but James hadn’t, so he was kept away. He caught a milder case and thankfully recovered, but not Douglas. I blamed myself. I kept thinking I must have done something wrong. I prayed for him to recover, and when he didn’t, I blamed God for not caring.”

  “I can understand that. It would be hard to understand why God would allow him to die.”

  “Not hard. Impossible. I had heard all my life that we had only to pray and God would answer. No one told me that God’s answer might be different from mine.” Nancy gazed past Seth to the street and then to nothing at all. “For the longest time I would wake up in the night hearing Douglas cry. I would hear him call to me out in the sheep pasture. I would think of something I could make him and then remember he was gone. Nothing was ever right after that, and I only wanted to get away from the farm.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes, and then Nancy confessed, “Maybe I’m not a Christian.”

  “I am,” Seth said. “I had a strange encounter with God. Like you, I grew up in a family who believed and thought that meant I was saved too. When I was back east at school, I found it easier and easier to forget about church and the Bible, however. I drifted into another world where intellectual discussions were more important than those about faith.”

  “What happened?” Nancy had never heard anything about Seth after he left the Oregon City area.

  “Some friends and I spent the afternoon at the horse races. I gambled and enjoyed some alcoholic drinks with them, as well as flirted with women of questionable reputations. I saw nothing wrong with sowing my wild oats. When evening came, my friends and I continued to celebrate our gambling wins. By the time I returned to my apartment, I was well into my cups and quite useless. As I fell asleep, I remembered thinking how disappointed my mother would be if she knew how I spent my day. She and Father always made clear the sins of drunkenness and gambling. But, you see, religious matters seemed unimportant. Something to scare children into obedience or help elderly folks face death. I just didn’t know what I believed anymore.”

  “Yes.” Nancy nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  If Seth heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it and instead continued with his story. “Later that night, I was awakened. The building was on fire. I was on the fourth floor, and the smoke was awful. I tried to make my way outside, but the exits were ablaze. I went back into my room, closed the door, and tried to figure out what I could do. It was immediately sobering, and I feared death.

  “I began to bargain with God. ‘Just get me out of this, Lord, and I promise to do whatever you want.’” He smiled, but it didn’t hold the joy that had been there earlier. “The heat and smoke intensified, and still I had no answers. There was the window, but a four-story drop didn’t sound encouraging. I remembered a drainpipe I thought might be useful, but it wasn’t directly under my window, so it was questionable whether I could reach it.”

  His expression grew grim. “I was in real trouble. I realized as the fire quickly consumed the building that I was probably going to die. I made my way through the choking smoke to the window. I managed to get it open and could see a commotion of people down below—spectators, firemen, police. I hollered, but no one seemed to hear me. I began to cry out to God, but not as a barter.” He smiled. “I begged God to help me—to let me live—but I was also resigned that if I was to die, I would be on good terms with Him. I asked His forgiveness and mercy. I told Him I was sorry for the way I had betrayed Him and wasted time. I realized that I had taken for granted all the blessings He had given me.”

  “And what happened?” She smiled. “Obviously you’re here.”

  He chuckled. “Yes. A fireman appeared at my window almost immediately. I don’t remember much, because the smoke rendered me unconscious. When I came to, I was on the ground and woke just in time to see a portion of the building collapse.”

  “How awful. You must have been terrified.”

  “I was, but I was also strangely at peace. After the worst of it was over and the fire under control, I went to seek out my rescuer. Strangely enough, no one knew a man of the description I gave. Furthermore, they called me mad and said I couldn’t possibly have been rescued from the fourth floor. They didn’t have a ladder that reached that high.”

  Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “What? How could that be?”

  Seth smiled. “The fire chief told me that only the hand of God could have brought me out of that building. He said the fire was too hot for his men to get within fifty feet. All they could do was let it burn. Ten people died that night. It should have been eleven.”

  A shiver went up Nancy’s spine. “Do you really believe God sent an angel to bring you out of that building?”

  “I don’t know any other way I escaped death. It completely changed my focus. I realized I didn’t want to waste my life. I wanted to do whatever I could to right wrongs and help causes that would benefit mankind. I wanted to serve God—really serve Him.”

  “I suppose that’s understandable. When you have an encounter like that—one that has no other rational explanation—then I could see crediting God.” She thought again of Douglas. Of watching his life slip away—of her mother holding him as he breathed his last. “If only He had sent my brother an angel.”

  “But that’s the thing, Nancy. He did.”

  She looked up at Seth, tears in her eyes. “Then He should have sent me one too.”

  “He gives His angels charge over us. Maybe in your grief you couldn’t see yours. We can’t know the mind of God and why one person lives and another dies. I felt guilty for a time that I had lived, and then I realized that God had let me live for a reason. He had a plan for me. It was completely up to me to fulfill that destiny. Just like it’s up to you to move forward with yours.”

  “I wish I knew what my destiny was.” Nancy thought of her current situation and of her husband’s drawings. She wanted very much to trust Seth and tell him what she’d found, but something held her back. Something she couldn’t quite name.

  “In time, I think you’ll know,” he said. “Right now is a time of transition. You don
’t want to make rash decisions. Take your time and figure out what’s important to you, Nancy.”

  She nodded. “I’m trying to do exactly that. Like opening the house to boarders. I like it. I like having the ladies here, despite Bedelia’s harsh judgment.”

  “Clementine loves it here. She says you are a supreme hostess and an amazing cook.”

  Nancy smiled. “Your sister has always been generous with her praise. I remember how she was when we were young. She always had a compliment for everyone. She got the highest marks for congeniality at school.”

  Seth laughed. “I’m sure she did. I think that’s why she likes teaching, and her students always adore her. She makes each of them feel good about themselves and takes time to find out something particular to their interests. It’s the mark of a good teacher. She can hardly wait for the fall term to begin.”

  A marked wagon came to a stop in front of Nancy’s house. “Oh, it would appear my groceries are being delivered,” she said.

  “I’ll lend a hand.” Seth got to his feet. “Although we must say nothing to poor Miss Clifton about two men being in the house with you.”

  Nancy smiled and waved to the deliveryman. Once he and Seth had managed to get everything inside, she paid the deliveryman and sent him on his way. It was then that she noted the newspaper he’d left. The grocer did that from time to time, hoping to encourage Nancy to purchase a subscription. She imagined he got a commission from his brother-in-law at the newspaper’s subscription office.

  She fixed a tray of refreshments and brought them and the newspaper out to the porch. “I thought maybe you’d like something to drink or eat.”

  Seth jumped up and took the tray from her. “I will enjoy anything that allows me more time with you. After all, I truly did come with a purpose other than dissecting the past and our religious views.” He placed the tray on the small wicker table. “Shall I pour the tea?”

  Nancy shook her head. “I’ll manage it. Sit. There’s a newspaper, if you’d prefer that to discussion.”

  “I see there’s something about the Middleton murders down south.” Seth scanned the paper and set it aside. “Looks like they believe the wife helped lure the couple to their death.”

 

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