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Authors: Laura Abbot

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BOOK: The Gift of a Child
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When Bess’s lesson came to an end, Lily stuck her head out the door. “That cobbler smells mighty good.”

Rose called Alf to come to the kitchen. After dishing up generous portions of the dessert, the women turned to community matters. “I think the Courthouse Ball will be the grandest occasion Chase County has ever experienced and a fitting way to celebrate the building’s dedication,” Bess said. “A small orchestra is coming from Topeka. There will be sumptuous refreshments, speeches and dancing. We must begin planning our gowns.”

“How glorious!” Lily gushed.

Rose wished she could work up enthusiasm, but she couldn’t imagine what she could wear or with whom she might dance. Her experience with such grand affairs had been limited and painful.

“The committee will soon be announcing plans in the newspaper,” Bess added. “We are hoping everyone in the region will attend.”

“Later in the summer, we have the county-wide camp meeting to look forward to. Brother Hampton Orbison will be coming all the way from Iowa to preach the word.” Lily paused to take a bite of the cobbler. While the other two prattled on, Rose busied herself helping Alf spoon up the cobbler lest he stain his overalls. Finally there was a lull in the conversation, and Lily softly called her name.

Rose looked up, noting the perplexed expression on her sister’s face. “You’re awfully quiet today,” Lily observed.

“I don’t mean to be rude. I’m merely preoccupied.”

“About tomorrow’s time with Aunt Lavinia, perhaps?”

Rose sighed. “How did you hear about that?”

“Lavinia told Caleb when he came to town earlier in the week to help her with some house repairs.”

Bess covered Rose’s hand with her own. “Dear, do share your concerns.”

Looking from Bess to Lily and noting the affection in their eyes, Rose decided to unburden herself. She told them about the sheriff’s visit and her fears concerning Lavinia’s reaction to her taking Alf in and to the reality of his parentage. She explained that it was difficult enough to feel socially awkward around her aunt without also running the risk of being morally judged.

When she finished, Bess patted her hand and said, “Best not to borrow trouble. Wait to see what your aunt wants. How she will react.”

Lily leaned forward. “Aunt Lavinia can appear unapproachable, Rose, but I think she’s searching for a new way to be. However, we can’t expect her to change overnight. As hard as it is, I believe we are called to love her through her grief and transition.”

Spontaneously, the haunting words of the hymn once again sprang to mind—“the wideness of God’s mercy.” Rose nodded her head, then addressed her friend and her sister. “Perhaps I have overly focused on my own problems and needs. Thank you for reminding me not to fear censure or to judge another prematurely.”

Lily opened her mouth to say, “All things in—”

“—God’s time,” Rose finished, and the two broke into laughter, remembering the many occasions when they had invoked their mother’s words.

* * *

Walking toward Lavinia’s home the next morning, Rose felt her courage waning. She had scoured her wardrobe for a suitable dress, finally settling on a full gray skirt and white waist trimmed with lace. At her neck she wore her mother’s cameo. This outfit would have to do. She’d dressed Alf in short breeches and a wide-collared white shirt. When they were two houses away from Lavinia’s three-story limestone dwelling, Rose took hold of Alf’s hands and reminded him once again to behave like a little gentleman. The boy nodded with a solemn air. “I will be good.”

Hannah admitted them into the house, its high ceilings airy and the burnished wood floors gleaming, and led them into the parlor, furnished with stiff-backed chairs, marble-top tables, Oriental rugs and glass lamps. Noting the numerous gewgaws adorning every surface, Rose cringed, hoping Alf wouldn’t break anything. The two of them perched on the edge of a horsehair settee awaiting Aunt Lavinia’s entrance, a delay which Rose supposed was part of the social ritual.

After only a few minutes, Lavinia Dupree swept into the room, the short train of her rich blue dress trailing behind her. Lavinia extended her arms, and Rose stood to receive a formal embrace. When Lavinia sank into a nearby chair, Rose sat back down, pressing a restraining hand on Alf’s knee.

After a perfunctory exchange of greetings, Lavinia rang a small bell to summon her maid. “I took the liberty of asking Hannah to prepare some cake for the boy, so she will take him to the kitchen while we visit.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command. Rose felt prickles run down her spine.
Patience,
she urged herself. “I’m sure he would enjoy that.”

After looking at Rose questioningly, Alf permitted himself to be led from the room.

“Children get bored easily,” Lavinia remarked, “and I should so like to have a decent tête-à-tête with you. While I have had happy occasions to become acquainted with Lily, you remain something of a mystery. I should like to know what interests you, what ambitions you have for yourself.”

Rose scrambled for the words to acquit herself favorably. “Of the two of us, Lily is the more social, and I, the more domestic. I should say housekeeping and cooking are my two talents. As for ambitions, mine are simple. I should like to be a helpful daughter to my father and a loving mother to my son.”

Lavinia’s eyebrows shot up. “Son? Son? Surely you can’t mean that foundling boy.”

Before she could even consider censoring herself, Rose retorted, “
Boy?
I most certainly do mean him. And may I take this opportunity to remind you he has a name.
Alf
. Please do me the courtesy in the future of referring to him by his given name.” Rose sat back, limp with vexation.

Frowning, Lavinia fussed with the ruffles on her bodice and then, after a deep sigh, she spoke. “As you wish. Pray tell me how this boy, excuse me, this Alf came to be your concern.”

In clipped phrases, Rose explained how Alf had come to live with her and her father. “He may not be of my own flesh, but he is a child in great need of love, and I have that love to give. Surely, God requires no less of me.”

Lavinia sniffed. “Well, now that you bring God into it...”

“Jesus would have us care for ‘the least of these.’”

“Of course the boy...
Alf
must be cared for. I’m sure he is a delightful little fellow. However, it surely has not escaped you that as an unmarried woman, it is unseemly for you to accept this burden. Especially given his—how shall I put it—dubious parentage.”

“Alf is not a burden. He is a joy.” Rose felt her cheeks flame. “He was left in my care. He is in need, and his origin matters not at all. I shall not turn my back. It is true I am not married, nor do I have any prospects of such a state, but others like Papa, Caleb and Seth are generously filling the paternal role.”

“But what will people think?”

Rose had anticipated Lavinia would come to that and had prepared an answer in advance. “I pray people will think I am helping this boy to grow up knowing he is loved. I am fully aware that there are those who do not approve of my decision and are unsparing in their judgment. However, I hope you will not be among them. You are family, Aunt Lavinia, and I ask you to get to know Alf and come to regard him as a great-nephew. I understand that you will need to consider my request prayerfully and that it will take time for you to accept us as we are. Please do take that time.”

Lavinia sat stock-still, seemingly lost in thought. When she finally spoke, Rose had to lean forward to hear her. “I had no children,” the older woman began. “Nor am I accustomed to them. I shall not know how to act.”

“On the contrary, Aunt Lavinia, you took the marble from Alf. He has not found you wanting.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” She rang a bell and when Hannah appeared, Lavinia asked her to bring Alf into the room.

As the boy edged forward, he smiled at Rose. “I ’member now.” He pointed at the older woman. “She’s the marble lady.” He approached Aunt Lavinia and stopped in front of her. “Will you play marbles with me?”

For once, Aunt Lavinia looked unsure of herself. “Young man, perhaps one day soon.”

“We should take our leave now.” Rose stood. “Thank you for your interest in us.”

“You are family,” Lavinia said quietly. “And, Rose, I shall take the time to consider what you have told me about Alf.”

Hearing his name, the boy looked up and said, “Marbles. You and me.”

As if his words brought her out of a daze, Lavinia started and then said, “Oh, dear, Alf, I nearly forgot. I have something for you.” She put a hand in her pocket and drew out a gray, black and white agate, far larger than those in Alf’s collection. “This is for you.” She placed the stone in Alf’s hand.

Alf beamed up at her. “Rose told me I would love you.”

Lavinia patted the boy’s shoulder and then, over his head, found Rose’s eyes. “I’ll try,” she said softly before her expression hardened. “But it will be difficult.”

On their way home, Rose reflected that trying was all she could ask of her aunt, but the gift of the marble showed promise.

Chapter Eight

S
eth gnawed on a piece of beef jerky as he rode toward the far pasture. The mid-July heat had been blistering with nary a rain cloud in sight for days. The spring-fed ponds usually provided an adequate water supply for the herd, but some springs were now mere trickles. If the upper pond was low, he and Caleb would have to consider moving the cattle.

If that wasn’t enough of a worry, they were short one hand. After the man’s bout with pneumonia, he had opted to move back to Kansas City. Caleb credited Doc Kellogg with saving the fellow. Cottonwood Falls was lucky to have Ezra. Lately Seth had noticed the doctor was accompanied on some of his rounds by Bess Stanton. Well, folks could use all the medical help they could get. Thank God Alf’s illness had passed and the lad was once again his lively self. Since his mother’s death, Seth could not remember a time he had been more frightened than when he was praying at Alf’s bedside. How Rose had pulled that prayer out of him was a mystery. But then, he admitted with a jolt, he could hardly deny Rose much of anything.

He liked thinking about her creamy skin, dusted with freckles, her reddish-blond hair that looked as if it would be soft to the touch and her blue eyes, as calm as a deep pool. Even though he dropped into bed each night sore and spent, he often lay awake picturing her and reflecting on the easy comfort he experienced in her presence. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be a real family—Rose, Alf and himself. Such wayward thoughts were dangerous.
Goliath, Goliath
. Why set himself up for rejection? It would be foolish to mistake Rose’s mere kindness for something more.

After arriving at the pasture and assuring himself that a sufficient water supply existed, he turned Patches toward home, deciding at the last minute to detour by Lily and Caleb’s to see little Mattie. She would have to be child enough for him.

“Seth, what a surprise!” Lily stood in the doorway, her rose-colored dress covered by a white apron that bore vestiges berry juice. “You look road weary. I have just the thing to perk you up.”

Mattie rushed toward him, holding out her arms to be picked up. The sweetness of her chubby arms around his neck and her curls tickling his cheek filled him with delight. “We having a treat, Unca. You come.”

Seth kissed her forehead, then set her down. She tucked her little hands in his and led him into the kitchen where she climbed onto her chair and began eating. Lily served him a slice of jelly roll and a tall glass of cold tea, then settled across from him.

“I’m glad you came by. We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“‘Make hay while the sun shines’ is my motto. I’m sure Caleb is just as busy as I am.”

“Have you been to town recently?”

He suspected this wasn’t an innocent question. “Not lately,” he said before taking a bite of the warm jelly roll.

“I saw Rose and Lavinia last week at the Library Society meeting.”

He wanted to ask about Rose but thought better of it. “How did that go?”

“It was quite interesting. Bess Stanton read a fine paper concerning British female novelists, and Dora Jensen brought Swedish krumkakes and berries for dessert. But the highlight—”

“Lavinia Dupree.”

Lily threw back her head and laughed. “Why, Seth Montgomery, you’re as wise as Solomon. Dressed to the nines, she sashayed in as if she owned the place. For the longest time, she sat like a queen surveying her subjects. It made for a bit of an uncomfortable afternoon until right toward the end when she finally spoke up. ‘I declare, this was a most tolerable afternoon. Ladies, I shall make note of the date of our next meeting.’”

Seth grinned. “You do a fine Lavinia imitation.”

Lily sobered. “I do wonder how difficult it must be for her to make such a dramatic transition. I know how I felt when I went to St. Louis. Everything was strange and unnerving. For all of Aunt Lavinia’s outward show of confidence, I sense her usual customs and behaviors aren’t serving her well here, and she knows it.”

“Jelly good, Unca?” Mattie asked, her mouth smeared with raspberry jam.

“Very good, Miss Mattie.” Momentarily diverted by his niece, Seth returned to the discussion. “Rose was full of trepidation regarding Mrs. Dupree.”

“She’s concerned primarily on Alf’s behalf.”

“I know.” Seth ground his teeth. “Alf has done nothing to the woman. Surely, she will come to see how important he is to Rose.”

“I will tell you what I told Rose. Let’s see how time may alter all of our opinions.”

“Good advice.”

“Speaking of Lavinia, she has asked a favor of you or Caleb. She would like one of you to take her for a tour of the surrounding countryside.”

Seth recoiled, imagining himself escorting the intimidating Lavinia about the county. “Caleb already knows her. He can do it.”

“Oh, no, my dear brother-in-law. That’s exactly why you are the chosen one. You need to get better acquainted. You are already close to Rose and Alf. Lavinia needs to understand what a fine man you are.”

Narrowing his eyes and suddenly feeling every bit the Goliath of his schoolboy days, he glared at his sister-in-law. “What do Rose and Alf have to do with anything?”

Maddeningly, Lily seemed about to erupt with laughter once again. “I’m surprised you can even ask such a question. You would be a dreadful poker player. Anyone can see you’re a few weeks shy of a full-blown courtship with my sister.”

A full-blown courtship!
Seth fumbled for a way to divert Lily from such a preposterous notion. “I never play poker.”

“Go ahead. Change the subject. You’ll see. I’m right. And that’s why,” Lily leaned across the table to wipe Mattie’s face with her napkin, “you’ll pick up Aunt Lavinia Saturday morning at ten.”

“Caleb, you mean—”

“Not Caleb. You. It’s already been arranged.”

“And Caleb agreed?”

Mischief flashed in Lily’s gaze. “Agreed? It was his idea.”

Somehow Seth endured the next few minutes before he could excuse himself to find Caleb, wherever he was lurking about the place, and give him a colorful piece of his mind. A tour with Lavinia? He’d rather jump into a frozen pond!

* * *

Saturday morning Seth dressed in a clean shirt and his second-best trousers, slicked down his hair, slapped on a straw hat and headed for the barn, all the while thinking murderous thoughts. Squiring Lavinia Dupree around in a buggy? Making polite conversation? Beyond that, Lily’s remarks implied that he was expected to make a favorable impression.

On his way to the Dupree home, Seth stopped by the sheriff’s office. Caleb had asked him to report the signs of a campfire, several days old, that he had discovered on a rock outcropping near the stream.

“Thanks, Montgomery,” the sheriff said as he stood with Seth outside the office. “So far we haven’t seen any evidence that these wayfarers are up to no good, but it doesn’t hurt to be vigilant.”

Seth tried to keep the tremor from his voice as he asked the question so important to him. “Any news about Alf’s people?”

“The only response from other lawmen involved an army deserter and his Indian woman, but that report is over four years old and in the Fort Riley area. I can’t put much stock in it.”

“Rose Kellogg is quite attached to the child. For her sake, I hope no parents show up to claim him.”

“That’s the way Doc feels, too.” The sheriff moved his tobacco chaw to the other side of his mouth. “It’s probably a cold trail.”

Relieved, Seth headed for the Dupree house. Walking up to the door, he steeled himself for the coming encounter. Hannah answered and told him her mistress would be right out.

Sure enough here Lavinia Dupree came, dressed in a slate gray riding dress he was relatively sure had never seen the inside of a stable. “There you are, young man.” She consulted a watch hanging from a gold necklace. “Punctual.” She nodded with approval. “Let’s be off.”

As she swept down the walk, he hurried after her, arriving at the buggy just in time to assist her.

Starting along, he decided it was safer to seize the conversational initiative. “This is big country, Mrs. Dupree. What do you have in mind?”

“Naturally I saw the countryside to the north coming in from the depot. Now I want to inspect the land to the west or south. I realize we can’t cover the ground all in one day, so you decide our route.”

Dutifully he clucked to the horse and they passed the courthouse, going south. His passenger craned her neck to study the nearly completed building. “Imagine, such an imposing structure here in...” Seth was sure she was going to say “in the sticks,” but then she caught herself. “Here in these hills.”

“The courthouse is quite the talk.” With an effort, he elaborated. “My sister Sophie is sweet on the chief stone mason, Charlie Devane, a fellow from Vermont who’s supervising the laying of the stone. All quarried locally.”

“Do tell.” They rode in silence, leaving the town behind. “‘Sweet,’ you say. I suppose a fetching young man from the East is a welcome novelty for a young girl.”

Seth clamped his mouth shut against the demeaning suggestion of his sister’s sweetheart as merely a “welcome novelty.” “And what about you? Are you sweet on anyone?”

Was the woman always so inquisitive? “No.”

“‘No’? Come now, Mr. Montgomery. It’s high time you settled down with a wife and children. Isn’t that how the West is to be populated?”

“I couldn’t say.” The woman’s suggestion had turned his thoughts to Rose and Alf, and once there, they tended to abide. “I’m not the marrying sort.”

He’d always held that opinion. Until recently. He kept such fantasies at bay by remembering his mother racked by the pain of childbirth and the heartbreak his father lived with every day. His current life was orderly, predictable. Why set himself up for possible disappointment?

Lavinia tapped him on the shoulder with her fan. “Nonsense. Surely there are some young women around here who require a mate.”

Seth cringed. Lavinia’s remark made him feel like an animal being paired off for breeding purposes. He seized upon a change of subject. “Tell me about your impressions of Cottonwood Falls.”

As they started up a rutted path toward a low rise, silence fell between them until finally Lavinia spoke. “I must confess it is a very different place from what I had pictured. I had not expected to find culture here, but I was pleasantly surprised by the program at the Library Society. The town is more genteel than I had imagined. But the rugged, untamed terrain, while breathtaking, is strange in its openness and rawness. Yet I find it full of possibility.” She paused as the buggy rumbled over the rocky roadbed near the top of the hill. “In St. Louis I have been unaccustomed to mingling with, well, just anybody. Here, there are few of the class distinctions with which I am familiar.”

Seth stared straight ahead. On the one hand, she was a grand lady examining the place, while on the other, she appeared to be making a genuine attempt to articulate her impressions.

“In certain respects, frontier society seems more...democratic. It will take time to adjust and find my place here.”

“Would you like to do that? Find your place?” Seth pulled the buggy to a stop facing a view of hills rolling away toward the horizon.

Instead of answering, Lavinia surveyed the panorama before her. Only an occasional farmhouse or clump of cedars marred the sweep of sky, rock and tall prairie grass. “Untouched,” she murmured. “Beautiful in its own way.”

He nodded, never having found words adequate to express his deep and abiding love for this land.

“So to answer your question, young man, I would like to claim a place.” As if a sudden thought had occurred to her, she asked, “What is the price of land currently?”

Slowly making their way down the other side of the hill and into a small valley shaded by cottonwood trees, Seth expounded on land prices, cattle and grain markets and the business opportunities for those who might settle in the area. Talking about such familiar subjects finally put him at ease with the woman, who stared straight ahead but seemed attentive. When he had exhausted the subject, they turned back toward town.

Then, she made a statement that reduced his new-found comfort to distress. “That boy is a half-breed.”

“Alf?”

“Yes, Alf. Although he is an engaging chap, Rose and Ezra have made a mistake taking him in.”

Seth controlled himself with great difficulty. “Is it ever a mistake to care for those in desperate need of it? He is only a child.”

“One can give care without becoming emotionally attached. Rose thinks of the child as her son.”

“She does. He gives her pleasure and seems to fill a void for her.”

“But a half-breed?” Lavinia might as well have been talking about an aborigine.

Stopping the buggy abruptly, Seth speared Lavinia with the intensity of his gaze. “Alf is a child of God. His parentage is not our concern. His well-being is.” He paused to stem his anger. “My apprehension in this matter is the heartbreak Rose may experience if Alf’s parents come to claim him. I fear it would be her undoing.”

Lavinia eyed him shrewdly. “You want to protect her from such heartbreak.”

“Yes. And I want to protect Alf.”

“You don’t care what people say about Rose, serving as an unmarried mother and all?”

“What other people think matters little in God’s eyes.”

“You are fond of both Rose and Alf.”

“Yes.”

The buggy creaked along for some minutes before reaching Lavinia’s street. Only when they pulled to a stop in front of her house did she speak again. “Thank you for the ride.”

He shrugged acceptance of her gratitude. As he escorted her to her door, she walked head down, as if lost in thought. Just before she entered the house, she straightened and looked directly at him. “As for Rose and Alf, you have given me much to consider. She is my family. I don’t want her hurt. Not by those who speak ill of her and not by the boy’s missing family.” Then in a firm voice she added, “And most certainly not by you, young man, should you ignore her affections for you.”

All the way home, Seth reviewed the morning and Lavinia’s puzzling attitudes. Surprisingly, he decided he might come to like her, but her last statement troubled him. Why would she think he had the power to hurt Rose? That was the last thing he would ever consider doing. But “affections”? What did she mean?

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