Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (16 page)

BOOK: Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]
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Juliana seethed all the way back home. The idea that Cass Gregory—the man Sterling had hired and, for all Juliana knew, the man who’d introduced Sterling to Nell Parker—the idea that he had the gall to invite a madam and one of her … employees onto her property. And all the while he was talking to her about “Pastor Taylor this” and “good causes that.” How could he? How dared he?

The longer she thought about it, the angrier she got. Men. Were they ever honest? Sterling. Cass Gregory. George Duncan. Amasa Graham. Not a single one of them worth—much. Even the ones who were moral could be so completely inept. She thought back to Reverend Burnham. Come to think of it, who knew if he was morally upright? If Sterling could fool her, wives everywhere beware. What was wrong with people, anyway? Was anyone ever honest about who they really were? How could they sit in church on Sunday and then … do the things they did?

Her mind whirled from one lie to the next, one disingenuous smile to the next. George Duncan, so solicitous, all the while planning to get his hands on her half-finished house. Amasa Graham, so organized and all the while helping Duncan manipulate her. Reverend Burnham, so pious, as long as Sterling’s funeral didn’t disrupt his conference. And Cass Gregory. Handsome and earnest and with such an air of
concern
about him. Advising her to trust herself.

Trust herself, indeed, and all the while he was inviting that Goldie person onto her land to talk to her stonemason about rebuilding a brothel. She could just imagine how Gregory would justify it, too.
It’s only business. A man’s got to make a living.
And all the while making it easy for that
woman
to destroy more marriages.

She should go back there and let Cass Gregory know what she thought of him. Maybe she’d fire him. Maybe that would let everyone know that she was not to be toyed with. They’d laughed behind her back and taken advantage for the very last time. Ladies weren’t supposed to know about such things, but thanks to Sterling, she knew. And she had had enough. She would talk about it, all right. And Cass Gregory would never forget it.

Planning to reverse direction and do just that, Juliana jerked on the reins. Tecumseh responded so quickly he nearly sat on his haunches. For a moment, Juliana thought she would manage to keep her seat. She failed. Sailing headlong over Tecumseh’s head, she landed hard. The wind went out of her, and the world faded. But not before she heard an odd crack. And then pain … and the world went dark.

“What do you mean you aren’t moving to Roca with us?!” From her seat next to Margaret in the buggy, Sadie reached up to tap Ludwig on the arm. “Tell her, Ludwig. Tell her we want her. We need her.”

Ludwig glanced back at Margaret. “Of course we want you. And we will need help. You must come.” He smiled at Sadie. “We insist.”

“That’s very kind, Ludwig, and I believe you mean it.” Margaret glanced at Sadie. “But it’s time you had a life of your own. And time I thought about a new life, too.” She smiled. “Didn’t we just agree to that a few minutes ago?”

“I wasn’t agreeing to losing my ma.”

“And you never will,” Margaret said. “At least not without a fight.”

“What will you do?”

“What I’ve always done. I’ll cook. Lincoln is growing, and I’m a good cook. It won’t be difficult to find a place.”

“Where? In some dreary rooming house?”

Ludwig pulled the buggy up and turned about. “If you are truly set on staying in Lincoln, I wonder, Mrs. Nash, if perhaps you would wish to buy my house.”

Own her own home? What a thrilling idea. Not remotely possible, of course. “That’s very kind, but—”

“You don’t like my house?”

“Of course I do. But I’ve no way to buy a house.”

Ludwig smiled. “Unless you negotiate favorable terms with the present owner.”

Sadie spoke up. “You could take in a boarder. I bet Cass would love to get out of that rooming house.”

“That I know is true,” Ludwig said, but then he looked off into the distance and frowned. “Do you see? What is—?” And then he shouted something in German, grabbed the buggy whip, and urged the rented horse into a trot.

“Isn’t that Mrs. Sutton’s horse?” Sadie clutched the edge of her seat as the buggy clattered across the prairie.

The tall red horse lifted its head and trotted away, its reins dangling. When the buggy stopped, so did the horse.

Margaret clambered down out of the buggy and went to where Ludwig knelt over the crumpled form of a woman.

Sadie hurried up. “Is she—?”


Nein
,” Ludwig said. “She breathes.”

“Thank God.” Margaret knelt beside Mrs. Sutton. “Sadie,” she said, as she pulled her gloves off, “see if you can catch the horse.” When she put her hand to the woman’s forehead, she stirred. “It’s all right, Mrs. Sutton. You’re going to be all right.”
Dear God, let that be true.

First, Margaret felt her way up each of Mrs. Sutton’s booted legs. “It doesn’t seem that anything is broken.” But when she took the left hand and began to examine that arm, the unconscious woman groaned. “Help me get her riding jacket off.” When they’d managed that, Margaret unbuttoned the cuff and rolled up the right sleeve.

“Thank the Lord,” she said. “It may be fractured, but at least the skin isn’t broken. There’s very little swelling. Perhaps it’s just a strain. But I don’t like it that she isn’t waking up.”

Sadie led the horse back. “Cass wasn’t joking when he said this horse is more dog than horse. He came to me when I spoke to him. It’s almost like he’s relieved we came along.” She hitched the animal to the buggy.

Ludwig carried the still-unconscious Mrs. Sutton to the buggy and laid her in the seat. Margaret perched in the floorboard to keep an eye on her. Sadie climbed up beside Ludwig, and they headed into town.

Had someone put her head in a vise? Wincing, Juliana reached—but then the pain in her head was overshadowed by other pain. What had she done to her arm? She groaned.

“Oh, thank heavens!”

“Thanks be to God.”

She opened her eyes. The aunts? Looking extremely worried. The ceiling was … green. She didn’t have green ceilings. She closed her eyes again. “What’s happened? Where am I?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“If she remembered,” Aunt Theodora snapped, “she wouldn’t be asking, now would she?” After a pause, she answered Juliana’s question. “That infernal horse threw you. Some dear people found you unconscious, the horse grazing nearby. They brought you to Dr. Gilbert. He rang us up, and Alfred brought us right away.” Her voice wavered. “You’re going to be all right. It could have been so much worse.”

“Tecumseh? I don’t … remember.”

Dr. Gilbert spoke up. “Don’t let that worry you. It’s normal to have a memory lapse after a trauma.”

“My arm … hurts.” And why couldn’t she seem to draw a deep breath?

“You are very fortunate. I don’t think the wrist joint itself is involved. It’s not displaced. I’m recommending ice to keep the swelling down and a wrap to stabilize it while it heals.” He paused. “You’ve also had a slight concussion from the fall. But you’ll be fine in a few days. The arm will heal. A few weeks at the longest, and that’s only if it’s truly fractured. I’m not convinced it is.”

A few weeks? But she needed to do things. Slowly, she opened her eyes again.
Green ceilings.
Of course. Dr. Gilbert’s clinic. She blinked. Grimaced. And finally the world came clear. “Tecumseh. Did Tecumseh run off?”

“He was grazing near you when Mr. Meyer and the ladies found you.”

Juliana smiled. Sweet horse. “It wasn’t his fault. I did something stupid. He did exactly what he’s been trained to do, but I wasn’t prepared and went flying. It wasn’t his fault.” She looked to the doctor. “May I sit up?”

“Of course. But you may feel a little dizzy.”

He helped her sit up, and for a moment she was sorry she’d asked. Her stomach roiled. She closed her eyes again. Presently, things stopped spinning. “When can I go home?”

“I wanted to keep you in the clinic overnight,” Dr. Gilbert said, “but your aunts have convinced me they’ll keep an eye on you. And call if there’s a change.”

“Alfred’s coming back with the town coach, dear,” Aunt Lydia said.

“He doesn’t have to do that.”

“He wants to do it. It will be so much more comfortable.”

Juliana nodded. She smiled. “Aunt Theodora.”

“Yes, dear?”

“A lady does not say
infernal.

CHAPTER 12

Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.
E
CCLESIASTES
4:9

C
ass had scaled the skeleton of boards forming the interior of the house and was checking the angle of a roof beam when he caught sight of a buggy headed in from the direction of town. When he saw who it was, he descended as quickly as he could and hurried to the back door of the manse, waving to get Ludwig’s attention as he pulled up. Where were Ma and Sadie? What had happened?
Not now. Not when things have been going so well.

Ludwig drove the buggy right up to the house. “It’s Mrs. Sutton,” he said, explaining that they’d found her unconscious on the prairie. “She’s been thrown by her horse. She might have a broken arm. We knew that you would want to know—even though Dr. Gilbert said that he didn’t see any need to worry. She will mend.”

“But she wasn’t awake yet when you left?”

Ludwig shook his head. “Dr. Gilbert called for the aunts to come. I took Sadie and Mrs. Nash home, but then we decided you would want to know—perhaps right away.”

Cass hesitated. How could the doctor know she’d be all right? Plenty of people died after being thrown from a horse. And a broken arm? That wasn’t exactly a minor injury. Aunt Lydia and her sister had to be terrified.

Pastor Taylor would want to know. And while Cass wasn’t sure about Miss Theodora’s spiritual bent, Aunt Lydia would surely be comforted to have her pastor call. He saddled Baron and headed into Lincoln alongside Ludwig Meyer’s rented buggy. They parted ways at the livery, and Cass hurried to the parsonage.

“Will you let me know how she is?” Cass asked.

Pastor Taylor smiled. “Why don’t you come along?”

“I don’t want to overstep.”

“It isn’t overstepping to show concern. And surely your mother and sister would like to know. I take it they didn’t linger at the doctor’s office.”

Cass shook his head. “They wouldn’t.” Ma and Sadie were shy about meeting what Sadie called “real people.” They hadn’t even braved going to church yet. Cass understood, although he hoped that would change soon. He’d been what people called a loner, too. The situation was just awkward. It was hard to know how to handle conversations that most people didn’t give a second thought about. He couldn’t exactly talk about his family when Ma and Sadie were at Goldie’s. Most people at church probably thought he didn’t have family. That would change now, but the idea of people asking questions still made him nervous, especially for Ma and Sadie’s sake.

“Come with me.” The pastor smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

Cass went, but he was relieved for more than one reason when they got to the doctor’s. First because Dr. Gilbert’s diagnosis hadn’t changed and second because the aunts had already taken Mrs. Sutton home. He wouldn’t have to explain his mother and sister “suddenly” appearing in Lincoln—to Aunt Lydia or to anyone else. Pastor Taylor knew the truth, but he could be trusted to give it all time to work itself out.

The pastor bid Cass good-bye just outside the doctor’s office. “I’ll call on Mrs. Sutton tomorrow and leave any news with Mr. Finney at the office.” He paused. “Would you like to send a message either to Aunt Lydia or to Mrs. Sutton?”

Cass said no, but once he stopped by the office himself to go over the next day’s work assignments, he decided it couldn’t hurt to send a note to reassure Mrs. Sutton that there wasn’t anything about the project that she needed to worry about.

Mr. Meyer rode out to inform me of your misfortune. I am so sorry. I went at once to inform Pastor Taylor, thinking that you all might welcome his concern. I hope that that was all right. The pastor encouraged me to accompany him to the doctor’s office. I was greatly relieved to hear Dr. Gilbert say that he expects a full recovery, although the arm will take a few weeks to mend.

Please know that I am at your service and am happy to offer regular reports as to our progress on the house if you do not feel up to making the journey to the site. I can also bring the plans to you if you wish to see them or to offer further advice as to how things should proceed. If I can be of assistance in any way, please do not hesitate to send word. May God grant you a speedy recovery. I remain,

Respectfully yours,
Cass Gregory

BOOK: Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles]
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