Prologue
August 1900
"There's never been a bride as lovely as you."
Rebecca turned from the calm current of the stream to face her husband of only three hours and smiled. "I'm sure other men think their wives are just as lovely."
Jeremy Graham slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "That's because they aren't married to you. How can they know any better?"
She giggled and shook her head. "You're biased."
"No. I speak the truth. Why do you think I waited until I was almost thirty before I got married? I couldn't find the right woman until I met you. You're the best there is, and what's even better is I get to spend the rest of my life showing you that I mean it."
He took her in his arms and held her for a long moment. The shade from the trees lining the path they walked from the church to their new house provided a reprieve from the hot sun, but that was lost on him as he looked into her eyes. The promise of the future loomed before him, and he was so happy he thought he might burst. When her family moved to the small western Nebraska town, every available bachelor hoped to marry her, but she chose him and he'd do everything he could to make sure she never regretted that.
Glancing at a nearby tree, he decided, for once, to act on impulse and gave her a quick kiss. "I have an idea." Letting go of her, he dug into his pocket and took out a swiss army knife.
As he went over to the tree, she asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to carve our names into the tree. Every time we go on this road, we'll remember our wedding day."
"Oh, that's silly."
"There's nothing silly about it." He pulled out the knife and started etching their names into the tree. "Just think of how romantic it'll be. Years from now, we'll take our grandchildren through here and think of this day."
She walked over to him and watched as he dug into the tree bark. "That seems like such a long time from now, doesn't it?"
"In some ways, but it doesn't seem like it's been a year since we met, does it?"
"No, it doesn't." She rested her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "When we take our grandchildren by this tree, we'll have to tell them of how we met. You were such a gentleman."
He smiled and stopped digging the knife into the tree. "I look forward to all the years we'll have together."
"Me too."
He finished carving their names into the wood and added the date for good measure. Now whenever he passed by the tree, he'd think of Rebecca. Stepping back, he took a good look at their names and nodded. Perfect.
He took her hand. "Are you ready to go home and start our new life together?"
Squeezing his hand, she said, "Yes. I'm ready."
Together, they strolled past the stream and continued on to their home.
***
March 1901
Jeremy took a moment to swallow the lump in his throat. He didn't dare turn his gaze to anyone who stood by the freshly dug out hole which would be the final resting place of the person lying in the coffin. It was hard enough to say the words without making eye contact with the other mourners. For sure, he didn't want to be the one saying them, but it was his job. And so he pressed through the words as he ignored the trembling of his hands and slight wavering of his voice. Then at the end, he closed the book.
After taking a deep breath, he nodded to the ushers who lowered the coffin into the ground. He blinked back the tears. No one had been closer to him than Rebecca, and now she was so far away from him that he couldn't reach her.
Chapter One
September 1901
Jane Syas ran the sheet across the washboard in the large tub, making sure to keep an eye on her niece and nephew who played on the swing hanging by the large oak tree in the front yard of her parents' house. Her brother took possession of it shortly after their mother joined their father in Heaven. He said she could remain in her room, and since she was unmarried, she agreed. What she didn't realize that part of the unspoken agreement required her to play the role of maid.
She paused in scrubbing the sheet and stretched her back to ease the kink out of it. Wiping her sweaty forehead, she took a moment to watch the eightyearold boy get swing back and forth while on his stomach. His fiveyearold sister giggled and circled around him.
For a moment, she had the vision of what she and her older sister, Rebecca, must have looked like as children. They spent hours taking turn on the swing while their older brother looked for frogs or some other creature to throw at them from where he perched on one of the tree branches. A smile crossed her lips. Sometimes she longed to go back to her childhood, if for no other reason than to be with her sister again.
Returning her attention to the wash, she finished cleaning the sheet, wrung it out and hung it on the clothesline. The warm Nebraska breeze would dry it soon enough, and then she could make the beds…after she made lunch. With a sigh, she went back to the tub, picked up the blanket from the pile on the grass, and washed the blanket. Blankets were, by far, the more difficult items to wash, which was why she dreaded the first of the month.
When she finished with the blanket, she went to hang it up on the clothesline, and grimaced when she heard the door to the wraparound porch open.
"Jane, when are you coming in to start lunch? You know I'm eating for two," came the all toofamiliar whine of her sisterinlaw.
With a sigh, Jane hung the blanket on the line before she looked over her shoulder at a very pregnant Lizzie who had a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face. "If you're hungry, then make a sandwich. I'm busy." She motioned to the few blankets and sheets on the ground.
Lizzie rubbed her belly. "You know my ankles swell up if I stand on my feet too long. Carrying a baby is hard work."
Though Jane had no experience in this area of a woman's life, she seriously doubted it was as difficult as Lizzie made it out to be. Biting her tongue on the response she wanted to make, she turned back to the laundry and picked up a sheet.
"I hope your next niece or nephew doesn't starve to death while you take your time," Lizzie called out before she slammed the door shut.
Jane gritted her teeth and scrubbed the sheet on the washboard, using more force than necessary. After taking a pause so she could relax, she was able to use more care as she washed the sheet.
A quarrel by the swing caught her attention, and she saw that her niece and nephew had ceased playing and were now fighting over the swing.
"Hank, you already had your turn. Now let Irene play with it," she told them.
Hank groaned but let go of the swing. She watched as he sulked over to the sandbox where he picked up a pail and scooped some sand into it. As she wrung out the sheet, she noted that Hank had forgotten to be upset and was humming. How quickly children got over things that bothered them.
She turned to the clothesline and heard the whistle of Micah Wesley. She cringed. This was the second time in one laundry wash that she had to deal with someone she'd rather avoid. The thought did occur to her to hide behind one of the longer blankets, but it would be a futile endeavor. One of the children would tell him where she was.
Tucking her brown hair securely in her bun, she headed back for the wash. Maybe if he saw how busy she was, he'd keep the visit brief. Just as he reached the swing where Irene was pushing, Jane had managed to get a Hank's blanket into tub.
Micah stopped whistling and spit his tobacco on the ground. "Morning, Jane."
Forcing a pleasant smile, she glanced up as he smoothed the thinning hair on his round head. "Good morning, Micah. What brings you by?" As if she didn't already know.
"I came to see you."
Lathering the soap on the blanket, she asked, "Oh?"
"Yes." He straightened his tie and then rubbed his beer belly. "I hear there's a potluck at Marcy and Jonathan's home. They just had a baby, you know."
Her stomach tensed. This wasn't going in the direction she wanted. When she realized he stood over her and waited for a response, she reluctantly said, "Yes, I know. They had a baby girl. She's the cutest little thing anyone ever saw." Clearing her throat, she shot Hank a pleading look, "Hank, do you remember when we went to pay Andrew's parents a visit?"
As she hoped, Hank looked over at her. "Huh?"
"Andrew. Your friend. We went to see his new sister. You remember?"
He scrounged his nose and shrugged. "I remember. She don't do nothing interesting."
"That's because she's a baby. Give her a couple of years, and she'll be just like Irene." Deciding to further sidetrack the conversation, she turned her attention to her niece. "Irene, honey, why don't you tell Mr. Wesley what you thought of the baby girl we saw earlier this week?"
Irene stopped pushing the swing and ran over to them. "We had licorice."
Jane laughed. "True. The children had a treat. But Irene, what did you think of the baby?"
"The baby is pretty." She clapped her hands. "I combed her hair."
"That's right. You did."
"And she cued."
"You mean, she cooed," Jane corrected.
Irene placed her hands behind her back and smiled. "It's what I said. Cued."
"Yes, that's very nice, Irene," Micah said with a nod. "Anyway, about the potluck—"
"Irene! What's that on your dress?" Jane gasped and made a big fuss to wipe off a stain that wasn't there, but she figured Micah wouldn't notice Irene's dress was fine. She stood up and sighed. "I must take care of her right away, Micah. Her mother is exhausted, so I it's up to me to take care of emergencies."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Emergencies?"
"Yes." She picked up Irene. "Please forgive me. I hope to see you again soon."
Without waiting for him to reply, she hurried toward the house, not bothering to look back. He called out to her, but she pretended not to hear him and flung open the porch door. When she was safe inside, she let out her breath and went into the kitchen. She put Irene down, relieved she avoided a potentially bad situation.
"Why did you lie?" Irene asked.
She turned to the window and peeked out to make sure Micah was leaving, and as fortune would have it, he was.
"Aunt Jane?"
"I didn't lie."
"Yes, you did. You said I had something on my dress, and I didn't."
Jane let out an uneasy chuckle. "Oh, that. Well, I thought I did see something." She bent down and checked her dress. "It was right here. I took care of it."
"No, you didn't." The girl crossed her arms and peered up at her. "You lied to Mr. Wesley. Preacher Graham says it's wrong to lie. It's one of the big commitments."
"That's commandment." Before her niece could say anything else, Jane hurried to one of the shelves and pulled down a container. She unscrewed the lid and handed her a cookie. "Have something to eat. I need to start on lunch."
Irene took the cookie and hurried out of the kitchen.
Glancing out the kitchen window, Jane saw that she had two more blankets and a sheet to wash. So much for her plan to finish the wash first. She'd just make sandwiches for lunch and get right back out there. Washing in cold water was preferable to going to the potluck with Micah. She shuddered and turned to the breadbox which she opened.
"It's about time you got in here," Susie snapped as she brought Irene back into the kitchen. "But I don't want you letting my daughter run through the house with a cookie. She'll get crumbs all over the place."
Jane bit the urge to tell her sisterinlaw that it shouldn't matter whether the girl made a mess or not since she would make Jane clean it up. The last thing she felt like doing was getting into another argument. No matter what she said or did, she wouldn't win because Susie was married to her brother and her brother always took her side.
"You're making sandwiches?" Susie didn't hide her displeasure as she motioned for Irene to sit in a chair.
"I believe I mentioned that when I was outside and you discussed lunch."
"You told me to make a sandwich. You didn't say you were going to make sandwiches."
"Does it matter?"
"I'm not in the mood for a sandwich."
Jane pulled out the bread and took out a knife. "Then don't eat it."
Susie huffed. "Isn't that gratitude for you? My husband allows you to stay here, and you act all high and mighty. You don't have a pot to piss in, so I suggest you learn to be gracious to those who are giving you shelter over your head and food in your stomach."
Jane slapped the knife on the table and glared at her. "Gratitude? Gracious? I've been at your beck and call ever since you moved in."
"Because this is your brother's house now, and I'm his wife. It's not my fault you're not attractive enough to find a husband."
"Such a wonderful observation coming from a woman whose only attribute happens to be how she looks."
Susie gasped before she narrowed her eyes at her. After a tense moment between them— one in which Jane refused to break eye contact with her, Susie's lips turned up into a smirk. "I suppose this means I'll have a conversation with your brother when he gets home."
"Is that really the best you can do? Threaten to have my brother talk to me?" With all the conviction she could muster, Jane told another lie, hoping Irene wouldn't catch on this time. "I'll have you know he's not a fool. He doesn't blindly believe everything you say."
The ploy worked, for Susie backed down. Stepping back, she grabbed her daughter's hand and headed out of the kitchen as she called out, "I want two sandwiches."
Satisfied to a small extent, Jane picked up the knife and cut into the loaf of bread.
***
Jeremy sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk. It was getting harder and harder to plan out his sermons. He'd just about exhausted the list of topics he'd enthusiastic created when he moved Lincoln after he finished his schooling. Back then, he had so many ideas, he could hardly contain them all. And now…
He glanced at the sheet of paper which rested before the open Bible on the table. The last topic was about how God could take any situation, no matter how bad it seemed, and work it for good in a person's life. With a shake of his head, he crumbled up the paper and threw it into the trashcan. He'd have to come up with something else.
A knock at the front door provided a much needed distraction. He got up and strode out of his small office. As he made his way to the door, he put on his suit jacket.
When saw the Western Union messenger boy, his eyebrows furrowed. "May I help you?"
"I have a telegram for you, sir."
Knowing this couldn't be good news, Jeremy dug his hand into his pocket to give the youth a coin before he took the piece of paper. As the boy turned to his bicycle, Jeremy shut the door and read the brief message regarding his ailing father. He knew his father hadn't been feeling well, so this didn't come as a surprise. It was nothing like the shock of losing his wife to consumption.
Once he determined he could be back on Saturday, he gathered enough of his things for a three day stay in Grand Island. He headed out on foot since he lived close enough to anything he needed in town. The day was a nice one. The leaves lining the path from the parsonage to the heart of town were beginning to change color, and he couldn't help but remember this time last year when he was engaged to Rebecca.
It was a bittersweet experience to consciously think of her. The emptiness she left when she passed on still resonated in his heart. As was his habit, he walked over to the tree where he carved his and her names and the day that joined them as one. He traced the letters with his fingers and recalled her laughter. At the time, they had a lifetime to look forward to, but now…
Gone too soon.
With a heavy sigh, he wiped his wet cheeks and proceeded down the rest of the path until he came to the cemetery. In his haste, he hadn't brought her flowers like he usually did, but he figured he would bring extra flowers next time he visited her. He found her headstone. It used to make no sense to him when people visited cemeteries, but now he understood. It was the only place they could go to feel connected to their loved ones.
He set his travel bag at the foot of Rebecca's grave and stood still for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her name and date of her birth and death.
"I know I'm early, but I got a message that my father has taken a turn for the worse. I don't expect him to make it." Jeremy stopped and took a deep breath. "It goes without saying, it hasn't been a good year. I miss you, Rebecca. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't wish you were still here or that I could have gone with you."
His voice cracked and he dug out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. Even with the passage of time, it didn't seem to get easier.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I won't be here for a few days, but when I come back, I'll visit you. I love you, Rebecca."
With nothing else to add, he picked up his travel bag and headed for the train station.
Chapter Two
The next day, Jane's cousin opened her front door, and Jane smiled. "I hope you don't mind that I brought the children." She motioned to Hank and Irene.
Edith gave the children a knowing grin. "I bet someone would enjoy a glass of lemonade and a slice of pie."
"Would I!" Hank said and patted his stomach.
"Me too?" Irene asked.
"I believe I have enough for two children, as long as you've been good," Edith replied. "Have you been good?"
Noting their enthusiasm, Jane said, "They've been good. They helped with some chores."
"Then I'll get the refreshments." Edith motioned to the chairs. "Why don't you sit down, and I'll be right out."
Jane thanked her friend and sat in the rocking chair while her niece and nephew peered over the railing of the porch. "What's caught your attention?"
"I see a frog," Hank called out.
She grimaced. Leave it to a boy to find something like that interesting. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the way the breeze caressed her face. Soon it would be too cold to sit outside. She loved the change of seasons, but she wasn't looking forward to the winter. Usually, it meant Thanksgiving and Christmas. Without Rebecca though, she couldn't imagine there'd be any joy this year. She recalled the last conversation she'd had with her sister and how her sister was going to ask Jeremy if Jane could stay with them after their mother died. But Rebecca never got the chance because she'd taken ill and joined their parents two weeks later.
Blinking back her tears, she tried not to feel sorry for herself. Rebecca was more than her sister. She was her dearest friend. She was the only one Jane could talk to about anything. When no one else understood her, Rebecca had. It wasn't fair that someone so lovely should go before her time.
"Aunt Jane."
She turned her attention to her nephew, realizing too late that he thought to shove the frog in her face. "Hank, get that thing away from me!"
Mercifully, he pulled the thing back. "It's just a frog. Don't you want to pet him?"
"No. I'll be quite alright keeping my hand to myself," she replied, daring a look at the creature. Sure, it was small, but she wasn't fond of things that could jump all over her. "Maybe Irene wants to pet it."
Irene smiled widely and reached for it.
"No way," he said. "Go find your own frog."
Just as Irene's lower lip trembled, Edith came out of the house with a tray full of goodies. Relieved that Irene wouldn't burst into tears because of the pie and lemonade, Jane got up to help her cousin hand out the snack to the children before she sat down to eat.
"So, what are you up to today?" Edith asked as she lifted a glass of lemonade to her lips.
"Not much," Jane replied. "I thought it might be nice to take the children for a walk and visit with you a bit."
"I'm glad you did. I have some important news."
"Oh?"
"Yes. My husband got the job in Omaha. We move right before November."
Jane's appetite took a nosedive. Her fork settled on the plate which she settled onto her lap. Forcing a smile, she said, "That's wonderful. I wondered what happened after his interview."
"To be honest, we thought he didn't get it. And at first, he didn't. They picked someone else, but as it turns out the one they wanted decided to go elsewhere. So that left the job wide open for my husband. It's meant to be, Jane."
"Yes, it is." She stared at her plate and sighed. "I'll miss you."
Edith offered a smile. "I'll miss you, too. But it's not like Omaha is that far. We'll come by for visits."
Jane nodded. It wouldn't be the same, but it was better than nothing.
The children finished their snacks, set their dishes on the tray, and went to the front yard to play. Jane still hadn't eaten more than one bite of the pie, and she didn't think she'd be able to eat anymore.
Edith's gaze traveled from Jane's plate to her face. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing fine."
"It seems like Susie makes you watch the kids a lot more than she's got a right to."
Jane set her dish on the tray and crossed her arms. "It's nothing I can't handle. I love my niece and nephew."
"I know you love them, but you're allowed to entertain the notion of finding a husband. As it is, you rarely get out except to see me."
"All the men here are already married or not the kind of men I fancy being with. Micah came by yesterday, and I had to do some quick thinking to avoid an invite to the potluck at Marcy and Jonathan's next week."
"I don't blame you for getting out that one."
"Just barely." She sighed and glanced at Hank and Irene who were chasing the frog. Turning back to Edith, she said, "I suppose they have more men in Omaha. Perhaps ones who aren't married but who would make good husbands?"
Edith chuckled. "I'll keep my eye out."
After a moment of silence, Edith stood up to collect the tray but paused to give Jane a good look. "Perhaps once we get settled into Omaha, you should go there as well."
"I'd love to visit you." Jane eased out of her chair and glanced at Hank and Irene who were still playing with the frog. She opened the kitchen door so Edith could carry the tray into the house. "I hope you get the kitchen you've always wanted. One that's spacious with a big window."
Setting the tray on the table, Edith shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I'm thinking you should move out there. Stay with us until you find a husband."
"Oh. Well, I don't feel fair in doing that. You and Wilbur are having trouble making ends meet, aren't you?"
"That's why this job is a godsend. We'll have enough money to take you in. I don't think it will take long for you to get married. It's just a matter of knowing where to find decent bachelors who are looking for a woman to marry."
Jane hoped so. She'd been ready to give up on the notion of finding a husband. Between Micah who gave her an unsettling feeling, Levi who was twenty years her senior and had buried three wives, and Jordan who took to moonshine, her options weren't good ones in Lincoln. But Omaha would offer a new start.
"I don't want to impose," Jane said. "It may not even work. Then you'd be stuck with me."
Edith led her back onto the porch and shut the kitchen door. "You're twentytwo. If you're going to find a husband, now's the time. The only good choice is Preacher Graham, and he's still mourning the loss of your sister."
"Yes. It's not fair that Rebecca was taken before her time. As much as it's hard for me, it has to be harder for him. I hear there's no closer bond than that between a husband and wife."
"And true that is." Edith leaned against the porch rail while Jane sat back down. With a chuckle, Edith leaned forward and whispered, "Though it's fair to say that no one will irritate you more than your husband at times. No matter how many times I tell him, Wilbur will not put his socks in the hamper."
Jane smiled. "You quarrel about things like that?"
"That and other silly things. I irritate him, too. I like to have an order when have our meals. He'd rather start in on dessert, but I insist on the main course first. He can't understand why it matters since it all ends up in the same place anyway."
"You want to make sure he gets his vegetables and fruits first."
"Exactly. You understand the logic in waiting for dessert. But he also doesn't like the way I crack my knuckles, and I see his point on that. I try not to but it's hard."
Jane rocked in her chair and grinned. "But those are minor things."
"And you'd be surprised at how annoying those things can get when you've been with the same person for fifteen years."
"I hope I get to find out."
"Me too."
"I'll send a letter when we get settled in, and then you can pack your things and join us."
Jane glanced at the children who found another frog and were laughing as they watched the two animals jump over each other. As much as she would miss them, she couldn't deny the exciting possibilities of the future that loomed before her. With a nod, she agreed to join Edith in Omaha before turning the conversation to the specifics of her husband's new job.
***
Jeremy arrived at his father's house and placed the travel bag in his old room. The room always brought back memories. Good memories. Memories of toy trains, jacks, and books he spent lazy summer days reading when he had finished his chores. Looking at the sparse room, no one could tell it'd once belonged to a happy boy. After reliving those peaceful memories for a few seconds, he headed to the hallway where the doctor, his aunt, and her two sons were quietly talking.
When his aunt saw him, she went over to him and gave him a long hug. "I'm glad you made it."
"Your telegram implied Pa doesn't have much longer," he quietly said.
She shook her head and sighed. "He doesn't. I asked him to hold on until you could get here. He says he has something important to tell you."
"He does? Did he tell you what it was?"
"No. But knowing my brother the way I do, who can be surprised? The man is determined to only tell you and no one else."
"I better see him."
"I think it'll put his mind at ease. We'll be in the parlor," she said.
He patted her on the shoulder before he turned to greet his cousins and the doctor. The door to his father's bedroom was partially opened, so he peered into the room and knocked on the door.
His father's face was unusually thin and pale and his breathing labored as he rested in his bed. The curtains were drawn and a single candle was lit on the small table next to him. Jeremy wasn't a stranger to such sights, but it was still difficult to see a man who'd once been strong turned weak in the final moments of his life.
He knocked again, louder this time. "Pa?" he called out.
His father's eyelids flickered as he turned his head in Jeremy's direction.
He softly made his way across the room and sat in the chair which had been pulled up next to the bed. He reached out and placed his hand over his father's. "I'm here, Pa."
His father blinked a couple of times before he seemed to realize who was talking to him. A smile crossed his face. "I'm glad you made it."
"Are you in any pain?"
"No. The doctor and your aunt have been good about taking care of me. I—" He coughed, and Jeremy winced at the sound of fluid in his lungs. After he took a shallow breath, he continued, "I wasn't sure if you should know. Your ma and I debated on whether or not to tell you."
Jeremy leaned forward so he could hear him better. "Tell me what?"
"It doesn't change anything. You grew up here. You made your ma and me proud. I don't know it even makes a difference. She's probably dead anyway. Women in her profession don't tend to live long."
Jeremy's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand what you're talking about."
His father took a couple of raspy breaths and sighed. "But if she is still alive…"
He waited for his father to continue but his father seemed to have drifted off to sleep, so he gently shook his hand. "Pa?"
His eyelids flew open.
"It's alright, Pa. I don't need to know." And in some ways, maybe it would be better if he didn't. Something in the way his father spoke told him it might not be welcome news. "We can talk about anything you want."
His father coughed again, and once his coughs subsided, there were tears in his voice. "That poor girl was so scared. I'll never forget how alone and frightened she was."
Jeremy began to ask what girl he referred but wondered if his father's mind was slipping between the past and the present. His father coughed again, and Jeremy handed him a clean handkerchief. "Don't push yourself, Pa."
His father shook his head. "You don't understand. This girl… Her name was Eliza Nitsick. She was such a young thing. Thirteen or fourteen. I can't remember."
When his father went into another coughing fit, Jeremy became aggravated. "You're pushing yourself too hard. I'll leave you here to rest and come back with some water."
As he stood, his father grabbed his hand. "I don't have much time left. I've been debating this for a long time, and now that I've figured out—" he coughed—"that I'm going to tell you, you're going to listen. Now, sit."
Surprised more by the firm tone in his voice than by his words, Jeremy obeyed and waited.
"This girl Eliza was with child. She couldn't take care of the child. Your ma and I lived in Omaha at the time, and we couldn't have children. Someone told us a prostitute was with child. We paid her a visit to discuss adopting the child."
Jeremy realized he'd grown tense as soon as he became aware of the way he was grinding his teeth. He didn't like the way this conversation was going because he already knew who that child was.
His father struggled through another breath and swallowed. "We knew we couldn't stay in Omaha once the child was born. People talk, and well… You can only imagine what they'd say about a prostitute's son. So we moved back here, to where I grew up and told everyone that you were ours. And as far as your ma and I were concerned, you are. Nothing I told you today has changed any of that. You understand? Your last name is still Graham."
He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.
"The day you were born," his father softly continued, "your ma was in the room to help deliver you. She said Eliza was crying because it hurt her to let you go. But you have to understand, Jeremy, she was too young. And in her profession, there was no place for you. We sent her a picture of you when you were still a baby, but that's the last time we had any contact with her."
When his father didn't continue, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to know anymore. It was too much to process at once, and part of him felt as if he was standing to the side of the room, just watching everything.
His father released his hand. "I don't know if you're better off for knowing or not. Maybe it doesn't matter. She's probably dead. I'll never forget the sound of her crying when we took you from that saloon. It broke her heart." He closed his eyes. "Maybe she's alive. I thought it might be nice if she could see what a fine young man you've turned out to be. Maybe it'll make her happy."
Jeremy couldn't decide on how he felt. He watched his father drift off to sleep and listened to his labored breathing. Three minutes passed before he eased out of his chair and quietly left the room, still numb to all he'd just learned.
Chapter Three
On Sunday, Jane shifted uncomfortably in the pew, hardly aware that Irene was swaying from side to side and bumping into her every two seconds. She watched Preacher Graham as he struggled through his sermon. Since Rebecca's death, he'd had some Sundays where it was apparent his heart
wasn't in the sermon, but she'd never had trouble following what he was saying. Today, however, his words weren't at all coherent.
"Sometimes the unexpected happens," he rambled at the front of the church. "When it does, we aren't prepared for it. How can we be? God didn't tell his prophets everything. But then it happens, and we don't know what to do. When the men cut into the roof to let down their paralytic friend, it was a surprise. No one in the house expected it."
Her sisterinlaw who sat on Irene's other side, leaned forward and whispered, "I can say I didn't expect this sermon today," to her husband who chuckled under his breath.
Jane winced. Thank goodness they sat toward the back of the church so the preacher didn't hear Susie, but as Jane scanned the room, she caught the mixture of concerned and amused expressions on people's faces.
Preacher Jeremy rubbed his forehead and paused for a long moment. Her heart went out to him. He hadn't been a good year. First, Rebecca died and left him devastated. And now his father had passed on. She didn't know how he managed to get up every Sunday to preach. If it was her, she'd hide in bed and never come out.
"Let us rise for a word of prayer," he finally said.
Relieved, more for him than for her, that the sermon was over, she joined the others and stood. Once the prayer ended, she decided to linger back while the congregation headed on out of the church.
"Aren't you coming?" her brother asked as everyone else in their pew shuffled out.
"Soon. I thought I'd offer a word of encouragement to Jeremy."
"Encouragement? You'd be better off offering a bag to put over his head."
She frowned at him. "Will, that's a horrible thing to say. He was our brotherinlaw, you know."
He chuckled. "Maybe, but that was the worst sermon I've ever heard."
"That's not nice."
"Sorry." He shrugged. "I'm going to take the family home. I'll see in in a bit, alright?"
Sighing, she nodded and proceeded to make her way through the group of people and stood in line for those who wished to talk to Jeremy. She saw Edith who was talking to a couple of women and waved. Edith returned the gesture and laughed at something one of her friends said.
Jane clasped her hands below her waist and waited for her turn to talk to the preacher. Currently, she was three spots away from the person talking to him. Her gaze drifted out the small window where she saw Micah discussing something with her brother. A knot tightened in her stomach. She hoped Micah wasn't asking if he could take her to the potluck on Tuesday. Micah spit more tobacco from his mouth and she cringed. That wasn't the worst of it, but it was bad enough. The line moved forward and, her mind temporarily off of Micah, she stepped closer to the preacher.
"What a wonderful sermon, Preacher!" Old lady Gerdy raved as she pressed her hands to her bosom. "I tell you, you get better with each one."
Jane wondered if Gerdy even heard the sermon or if she'd dozed off to sleep again. As Gerdy continued her comments regarding his eloquent speech and how professional he looked, Jane had no doubt that she'd fallen asleep during the service and was covering up for this fact by rambling about things that had nothing to do with anything he actually said.
When Gerdy was done, the couple in front of Jane also complimented him, and Jane was beginning to wonder if anyone ever listened to what he said when he was speaking. Well, anyone but Susie who thought it was a good idea to make fun of him during the service. After the couple invited him to supper at their house, which Jane thought was nice, it was her turn to talk to him.
He shook her hand and, though he smiled, she detected his weariness. "How are you doing, Jane?"
"I'm fine, but I was wondering how you're doing."
"You were always the perceptive one in your family. Rebecca said was both comforting and alarming at the same time."
Chuckling, she admitted, "Yes, I was never sure if it's a good thing or not. I try not to alarm anyone."
"I know. I think she liked it."
She glanced over her shoulder and since no one was behind her, she continued in a low tone, "Is there anything you need? Just because Rebecca is no longer with us, you're still family. If you ever need anything, my brother and I will do whatever we can to help."
"I appreciate that, Jane, but I can't think of anything short of bringing Rebecca back."
"If I could do that, I would."
"It hasn't been easy for either of us." He took a deep breath. "I don't mean to sound so dour. Some days are easier than others. I know life goes on. There has to be a reason I'm still here, even if I'm not sure what it is."
"You're not the first one who's ever felt that way. I think all of us ask what our purpose is at one time or another. We wouldn't be human if we didn't." After a moment of silence elapsed between them, she said, "We should have you over for supper this week. It's been rude of us not to make the offer for awhile now."
"No. You have your hands full already with Will, Susie, and the children. You don't need one more person to add to the mix."
"It's no bother, Preacher. We manage every meal."
"You can manage every meal, you mean?" He offered a kind smile. "People think a preacher can't figure out what is going on because we've got our noses stuck in the Bible, but we see what's going on. Like today. I know what people really thought of my sermon, and who can blame them? I didn't take the time to prepare what I was going to say and it showed."
Her first instinct was to assure him it wasn't as bad as he feared, but then she decided it would do no good since he knew better. "I'm sorry to hear about your father, and I think everyone understands the situation, or at least those who matter. I wouldn't give the busybodies a second thought."
His smile widened. "It's true you can't control what others say. You do know you can call me Jeremy, right?"
"Well, yes. But I thought Preacher was more respectful. After all, you spent years to get the title."
"Yes, but sometimes it doesn't make me feel like I'm a part of the community."
"I'm sorry, Jeremy."
"There's no need to apologize."
"So, will you come by this week for supper?"
"As long as it's not going to be a burden for you."
"No, it won't. It's just another plate to put on the table, and the children have been wondering about their uncle. I know you're not technically their uncle anymore, but—"
"Jane, it's alright. I know what you're saying, and you're right. I haven't been out to see them and should. What day would you like me to come by?"
She thought it over for a moment and finally settled on the day she typically didn't have the most chores. "Wednesday?"
With a smile, he nodded. "I look forward to it."
Noting that a man came up behind her, she said goodbye to Jeremy, greeted the man, and then decided she better go home to get lunch ready. As she stepped out of the church, she saw that her brother was no longer talking to Micah and wasn't sure if she should breathe a sigh of relief or not. Who knew what the two were discussing? She hoped her brother didn't tell Micah she'd go with him to the potluck. She couldn't think of a worse fate than that.
Unfortunately, as soon as she got home, her brother made the dreaded announcement. "Isn't this wonderful?" Will asked, looking surprisingly pleased with himself. "All this time we assumed you'd never get married because you're as not as pretty or sweet as Rebecca was, but here we are with an eligible bachelor who's willing to court you."
She stood, frozen to her spot by the front door while he remained seated in his favorite chair in the parlor, grinning like a boy who'd brought home high marks from his school. She tried to speak but nothing came out of her mouth.
Susie instructed the children to get into their play clothes and stood up from the couch. "I thought I saw Micah here the other day when you were doing the wash," she told Susie. "Had I known he was here to pay you a social visit, I would've invited him for lunch."
"But… I…" Jane swallowed. Too many thoughts were rushing through her mind, and if she could just put a stop to the onslaught, she might be able to form a intelligible response.
"No need to thank me," Will said as he picked up a cigar and lit it.
"Thank you?" Jane blurted out. "You want me to thank you?"
Seeming not to notice her mortification, he said, "You're welcome," and put his feet up on the ottoman in front of him. Looking at Susie, he smiled. "It's nice to do a good deed on the Lord's Day."
Susie smirked at Jane. "It sure is. Tuesday ought to be interesting."
Jane blinked a few times. "No."
"No what?" Will asked as he flicked the ashes into an astray.
"No, I'm not going to the potluck with Micah." Even as overwhelmed as she was that her brother would, indeed, take it upon himself to speak on her behalf, she chastised herself for not seeing this coming. Micah had been approaching her more often lately, and she kept running off in the opposite direction. She feared this was the topic of conversation when he talked to Will. She should have went out there and stopped the whole thing instead of talking to the preacher. "No, I'm not going."
"Why ever not?" he asked. "You should be glad a man even took notice of you."
"And have you noticed him?"
Susie rubbed her stomach. "What's wrong with him?"
"Oh, seriously! You're a woman. Him, I can understand." She motioned to her brother and rolled her eyes. "Men don't notice the disgusting things other men do."
"I take objection to that!" Her brother sat up and gave her a stern look. "Granted, he's not the most charming man in town, but he's a man and that counts for something."
Jane grimaced. "You can send him my regrets since I'll be sick that day."
"Jane, I forbid it! You'll go to the potluck with him or else."
"Or else what?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.
He stared at her, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
"Insolence." Susie muttered with a shake of her head. "After all we've done for you since your parents died."
"All you've done for me? Like what? I've been the one making the meals, cleaning the laundry, and cleaning up around the house," Jane reminded her. "I've earned my keep while all you've done is put up your feet and complain about the way I do things!"
"Because she's in a delicate situation," her brother argued.
"Well, that's not my fault," Jane snapped.
"That's enough, Jane," he said, his tone firm.
"You're right, Will. It is enough." Jane took a deep breath and made the request she'd been longing to make for months but had been too scared of the unknown to do. "I want my part of the inheritance."
Some ashes fell to his pants so he shot up out of his chair and brushed them off before checking the rug beneath his feet. When he was assured there was no fire, he stared at Jane. "What?"
"My inheritance. You know, that good sum of money our parents left me." She held out her hand. "I will take my part and be out of here."
Susie laughed. "You don't have anywhere to go."
"That shows how much you know," Jane replied. "Edith's husband just landed a good job in Omaha, and she's welcome me to go with her."
"You wouldn't have enough to live out the rest of your life," her brother argued.
"I don't need to live out the rest of my life on it. I only need enough until I either find suitable employment or get married." Ideally, it'd be the latter, but right now she wasn't in a position to be picky.
Will threw back his head and laughed. "And what skills can you offer? You didn't get enough schooling to be a teacher or governess. What else can a woman possibly do besides that which would defile her body?" He shuddered.
"I could do laundry or clean or cook," she replied, bitterly noting he didn't even consider marriage an option for her.
"And you'll likely be taken advantage of. Really, Jane. It's a man's world, and unless you have a husband to support you, you'll never make it without us."
Jane glanced between Will and Susie and noted the smug look on Susie's face. "Whatever happens to me is not your concern. It's mine. I'll take all of the money now, please." She held her hand higher and waited.
Her brother shifted from one foot to the other before he placed his cigar in the ashtray. With a step in her direction, he clasped his hands together and rubbed them. "Alright. You've forced my hand. You see, there was this situation that came up, and I needed some money, so…" His voice trailed off as his face turned beat red.
Jane felt the color drain from her face. "Are you saying I don't have any money?"
He gave a slight laugh and shrugged.
"Nothing at all?" she demanded, her shock quickly turning to fury.
"No. At least not right now."
"Not right now? What is that supposed to mean?"
"There was this investment opportunity. It was too good to pass up. You just watch, Jane. In a year, this business is going to take off."
"I don't care about the investment. I want money. I'm due for my share of the inheritance. If you've squandered mine, then I suggest you be a gentleman and give me yours. Then we'll call it even, and I'll be out of your way."
"Oh, yes, that would be an option," he slowly began.
Good! She kept her hand out and waited.
"Except, I don't have that either."
"What?" she screamed.
"There's no need to raise your voice," Susie said from where she sat on the couch.
Ignoring her, Jane stomped her foot on the floor and stared at her brother. "You don't have any money? Nothing at all?"
"I have what my paycheck brings home," he answered. "But I promise you that a year from now, we'll be living like kings."
"No, you're not." Jane pressed her hands to her face and fought the urge to break down and cry. "You've lost a good sum of money in a year. How can you believe you can manage money effectively?"
He shook his head and sighed. "The investment hasn't paid off yet. Mark my word, four wheeled bicycles are going somewhere."
"Oh sure. They're going right down the drain."
"Not if they have a large basket to carry things. We're talking grocery items. This will revolutionize the way women shop."
Jane didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
When no one said anything, her brother returned to his chair and picked up his cigar. "You'll see, Jane. A hundred years from now, people will be riding fourwheeled bicycles all over the place. My children's children will be rich." He put his hands behind his head, smiled, and puffed on his cigar.
Susie cleared her throat and motioned to her stomach. "My child is hungry."
Jane glowered at her. "So make your child something to eat!" Then she stormed out of the house and headed for Edith's.
Chapter Four
Jane bit back the low groan as Micah belched and gulped down the cider at the long table. Across from her, Susie looked at her and giggled. Jane averted her gaze from Susie and scanned the group of people who ate at the potluck. Jane's plate remained full of food. She couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Not with the noxious fumes of Micah's farts hindering the pleasant smells of the foods. Clutching her stomach in hopes she wouldn't gag at the loud sound of him chomping on his food, she wondered why she couldn't fake an illness very well. She should have told everyone the woman's time of the month was upon her instead of claiming a fever.
At another table, Marcy's newborn let out a cry. Jane knew exactly how the poor child felt!
"Ah, isn't that cute?" Micah asked her while the food was still in his mouth.
Susie nodded with a little too much enthusiasm. "They sure are. Jane is wonderful with children. Why, she loves taking care of her niece and nephew."
"Is that so?" Micah glanced at Jane and winked.
Bile rose up to Jane's throat, so she held the cloth napkin up to her nose to avoid breathing anymore of his bad breath. She noted the way Susie nudged Will in the side.
Will glanced up from his chicken and smiled. "Jane's also a fine cook. She made the coleslaw."
Jane's stomach churned. She really didn't like the way Micah was looking at her—as if he was considering that she would ever cook for him or give him babies. There was no way either one was going to happen! For the first time in her life, she anticipated cleaning up after a meal. Once everyone was done, she could volunteer to wash dishes. That would require her to spend most of her time in the kitchen, if she went slow enough.
When Micah turned his face away from her, she lowered the napkin and glanced around the three long tables that formed the letter 'U' on the front lawn of Jonathan and Marcy's residence. From the other table, she caught Edith's gaze. Edith sent her a sympathetic smile. Not knowing what else she could do, Jane shrugged and returned her attention to her table.
"I hear the christening is this Sunday," a woman said further down the table. "The girl's gown is so lovely. Marcy made it herself."
"You don't say," another woman chimed in. "I remember when Marcy made her first skirt. She's come a long way since then, hasn't she?"
Jane sighed and glanced at her plate. Maybe she could eat something on it. The fried potatoes were made by Gerdy, and Gerdy knew how to season them just right. Micah released another loud fart, and she gave up on any notion of eating. Placing her napkin on the table, she excused herself from the table and went in the direction of the outhouse. Once she verified no one was watching her, she veered off to the side of the house which was out of sight of everyone. Relieved, she settled against the side of the house and too a few deep breaths. She would never take fresh air for granted again! She closed her eyes and placed her head in her hands. How could she avoid Micah for the rest of the day? Forget about the rest of the day. How about the rest of her life?
"Jane?"
Startled, she lowered her hands and turned her head in the direction of Jeremy's voice. He was sitting on a barrel that had been turned upside down and placed under a portion of the wraparound porch that remained in the shadows. She stepped forward so she could get a better look at him. "What are you doing back here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"True." She walked up the steps of the porch and pulled up one of the chairs so she could sit near him. "Did you note the man I came here with?"
"Micah? Yes, I saw that, though you didn't seem too happy about it."
She winced. "Was I that obvious?"
"Rebecca used to say that whenever you held a napkin up to your nose and mouth in public, it was sign you were either ready to cry or afraid you'd say something you shouldn't."
She wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders to brace against the chill from the breeze. In the sunlight, it didn't bother her, but here in the shade, it was a good reminder autumn was quick in coming. "I never realized how well Rebecca knew me."
"I never realized I remembered so much of what she said," he replied. "Stuff that was said in passing conversation has a way of coming back to me. So, you came to get a break from Micah?"
"It was my brother's idea I come with him. Actually, Micah asked him if he could take me, and my brother heartily agreed. No one consulted me on the matter." Not that she gave Micah a chance, but looking back, she should have let him ask her just so she could say no. Because she was too afraid to say no and hurt his feelings, she was stuck with Micah.
"Maybe you should tell Will that you have no desire to go anywhere else with Micah in the future. Then he won't arrange for you and Micah to spend time together anymore."
With a sigh, she shook her head. "Will knows I don't fancy Micah."
Jeremy frowned and leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "So why did he arrange for you to come with Micah to this potluck?"
"I think he wants to see me married off. Susie and I don't get along very well, and I fear our arguing gets on his nerves."
"Rebecca mentioned how difficult things were between you and Susie shortly before she died. You know Rebecca didn't care much for Susie, don't you?"
"Well, it wasn't like our brother was considering a woman's disposition when he chose a wife. His main concern was having a woman who appealed to the eye." She sighed in frustration. "It's not like I haven't tried to get along with her. I have. But when a person's been made to feel like their sole purpose is to be at someone else's beck and call all the time, they grow weary." Her face flushing, she shot him an apologetic look. "Forgive me, Preacher. I didn't mean to burden you with my problems."
"It's Jeremy, and you're not burdening me. I'm only sorry I couldn't help. Rebecca and I were going to offer you a room at the parsonage. It just didn't work out."
"I know. And I appreciate it. I know I shouldn't complain. I have a roof over my head and food to eat. There are others worse off than I."
He smiled in a way that set her mind at ease. "You're human, Jane. It's only natural you'd be tired of the way you're being treated."
"Thank you." She stopped herself before she said 'Preacher' and added, "Jeremy." After scanning the yard and not finding anything of interest there, she asked the only thing she could think of. "Will you share why you are back here? Do you have a woman who is seeking your company you'd rather avoid?"
His lips turned up into a smile and he straightened his back. "No. I don't have anything so intimating waiting for me out there. I just needed some time to myself. There are a lot of people out there, and someone wants to talk about something."
"I'm afraid you didn't get the reprieve you wished for since I came over here."
"I don't mind. You're a welcome distraction."
Noting the tired tone in his voice, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know. There's nothing I can change."
She waited and since he didn't continue, she figured he'd rather not speak and turned her gaze back to the yard, noting the way the grass swayed in the breeze.
"I was adopted."
The statement came out so soft that she almost missed it. Directing her attention back to him, she wondered if he'd continue.
Staring at the floor, he ran his hand through his dark hair and sighed. "My father told me about it when I went to visit him. It was the last thing he told me, actually." Making eye contact with her, he said, "I don't want anyone else to know. I don't think it's something some people would be gracious about. I might be in the business of grace and mercy, but there are some who are quick to judge."
"I won't tell anyone. You don't even have to tell me."
"I know, but it's been weighing on my mind and I'd like to have someone I can talk to about it. Rebecca trusted you to keep matters of a delicate nature private."
"That's because I didn't rat her out when she slipped a hot spice into our brother's food when we were growing up, but to be fair, he had it coming to him. He got a hold of her diary and showed it to everyone at school."
"He took her diary?"
Jane nodded. "Personally, I think the spice wasn't payment enough for what he did. That diary contained some personal thoughts. If it'd been me, I would have hidden all his undergarments for a week."
His eyes twinkled. "Why, Jane. No one would suspect you had a mean streak in you."
Her lips turned up into a smile and she shrugged. "My brother suspected it. You'll note he never took my diary."
At that, he laughed.
She liked hearing him laugh. She couldn't remember hearing him laugh since Rebecca died, and that was a shame because when he laughed, all the cares in the world seemed to melt away.
But the laugh didn't last long. Shifting on the barrel, he cleared his throat. "Anyway, I am adopted, and the circumstances surrounding the adoption aren't favorable."
"I wouldn't think it would be," she admitted.
"The problem is, I don't know if I should do anything about it. My father wanted me to find my real mother, but I'm not sure I want to. Like he said, she could be dead, so what's the point?"
"This was your father's dying wish?"
"He didn't come out and tell me to find her, but the way he spoke implied it."
"And you don't want to?"
"I don't know what I want to do. Everything seems to be happening at once, and I feel like there's nothing to hold onto. It's like I'm spinning out of control."
"Things are coming at you too fast for you to keep up?"
"Right." He studied his hands and furrowed his eyebrows. "It's not pleasant learning your real mother was a lady of ill repute and you have no idea who the father is. It could have been one of many men. I can't blame my parents. They didn't want me to grow up with the stigma of being a bastard, so they told everyone I was theirs when they moved to Grand Island. I don't think I'd be a preacher if people knew the truth."
"The circumstances of your birth doesn't change who you are," she softly replied.
"I don't think everyone would agree."
When he looked at her, she saw the struggle going on inside of him, and his botched up sermon made a lot of sense. She also understood what some people would think of him if they knew the situation. "No one has to know. If you want to search for your mother, no one has to know that either. You can get a preacher to step in your place while you do it. Considering everything you've been through this year, no one will question it if you take a break." When she heard the sound of dishes clattering from the front lawn, she offered him a smile. "You're still a good man, Pre—. I mean, Jeremy." She stood up and took a deep breath. "I hear they're done with the meal, so I should pitch in with the other women before someone talks me into spending more time with Micah than I can bear."
"Good luck," he said, his tone lighter.
"From your lips to God's ears," she replied, pointing to the sky and smiling.
As she headed for the tables where women were cleaning up, Edith called out to her. Glancing in Micah's direction, she was both uneasy and relieved to see him talking to her brother. If he spoke to her brother, then he wouldn't bother with her, but since he was speaking to her brother, she worried this meant bad things—like her brother arranging more outings for her and Micah. Her stomach tightened into a knot. She hoped this was not going to be the case. She hoped it was merely idle chatter that kept them occupied. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, she joined Edith at one of the tables and started collecting the plates.
Edith moved closer and whispered, "I see you're with Micah."
"Yes. My brother arranged it."
She winced. "I'm sorry."
"Believe me, no one is more sorry than I am. I tried to get out of it, but Will and Susie practically dragged me out of the house."
"I'm sorry."
Jane chuckled. "You already said that."
"I know, but I don't know any other words to express how sorry I am. I'm only glad you'll be coming out to Omaha."
"About that…" Jane settled the stack of dirty dishes in her arms and turned to face her friend. "Will spent my inheritance."
Edith stopped stacking her plates and gave her a startled look. "What did he do with it?"
"He invested it in a venture to make quadcycles."
"Quadcycles?"
"Bicycles with four wheels instead of two."
Her jaw dropped. "What a ridiculous idea."
"Yes, it is. Anyone can see that, but Will's convinced this will make him rich."
"That's all well and fine for him to waste his own money, but why did he waste yours?"
"Because he can, I suppose." Jane brushed back a lock of hair that fell to her forehead. "It's too bad I didn't hide that money under my mattress, though it probably wouldn't have done any good. Susie would have found it. She snoops through my room from time to time."
"How do you know?"
"I caught one of her hairpins on my floor. I never told her I know, but it irks me to no end that they are treating me like a child. I'm a grown woman."
Edith nodded and stared toward the sky for a moment before she said, "I'm going to save up and get you train ticket. Don't worry about anything else. Just pack your clothes and come to Omaha when I send the ticket your way."
Jane's heart leapt. "Really, Edith?"
"I can't have you living in that house indefinitely. You need a home of your own with a husband to care for and children to tend to."
Jane set the dishes on the table and hugged her. "Thank you, Edith! You're a wonderful friend."
Edith laughed and hugged her as well as she could with her arms full of dishes. "Don't thank me until your wedding day. I plan to find you a husband." As Jane picked up her dishes, Edith added, "A good one."
Beaming, Jane continued with the task of cleaning up the tables.
Chapter Five
Jane took the pot roast out of the oven and smiled. It turned out perfect. She placed it on the work table and glanced at Hank who was ready to dip his finger into the cake.
"You can't eat it until dessert," she playfully scolded him.
Hank jerked his hand away from it and groaned. "I'm starving."
"Then snack on some squash."
He grimaced. "I'll wait."
"So, you're not starving," she replied with a knowing grin. "Set out the good china. We're having company tonight."
"Alright."
As he went to the dining room, she stirred the gravy in the pot and decided there was nothing else to do. Everything was ready. The last time Jeremy came over was one month before Rebecca died. Little did any of them know how short her time would be.
Taking a moment to wipe her eyes with her apron, Jane hoped this might be a positive experience for Jeremy. No doubt he would think of his last time here and how happy he'd been. She hoped he would enjoy tonight. It might not be as good as when Rebecca was alive, but maybe it would be good enough.
The front door opened. Checking the clock, she saw it was still ten minutes before Jeremy was expected to show up. Besides, he would knock.
"Jane! I have good news for you."
Her brother's voice echoed through the entire house, sending no only her but Susie and the children into the parlor.
"Do you have good news for me, too?" Susie asked Will with a slight pout on her lips.
"Oh." Jane's brother frowned and then smiled. "I sure do, sweetheart. I got some money today."
Susie squealed. "Your bicycle venture is paying off already?"
His face turned a bright shade of red. "Well, not really. But it will. Mark my word. By this time next year, we'll be living like kings!"
Jane forced back the eye roll and calmly waited for her brother to reveal what was supposed to be good news for her. Perhaps he'd give his newfound money to her to make up for squandering her part of the inheritance.
"What is it, Pa?" Hank asked.
Irene, who stood next to Hank, seconded his question.
Will turned to Jane and, with a huge smile, said, "I found you a husband!"
Jane blinked and stammered for a moment before she was able to ask, "What?"
"I know. I hardly believe it myself, but it's true."
She frowned and crossed her arms. "It's so nice to have my brother throw me a compliment as high as that." She couldn't wait to get out of this house.
"Now, Jane. I meant no harm. It's just that your options are limited in Lincoln."
"Because I'm plain and speak my mind," she filled in for him.
Chuckling, he took his hat off and placed it on the table. "You're reading into things that aren't there."
Susie groaned. "Forget all of that! Who's willing to marry Jane?" Jane shot her a glaring look, but Susie ignored her and smiled sweetly at Will. "Come on and tell us already. The suspense is killing me."
Jane gasped. Oh no! It couldn't be—
"Micah!" Will answered, looking like he'd just announced a cure for all human ailments.
Susie burst out into a fit of laughter. "You jest!"
His brows furrowed, he asked, "Why would I joke about something like this? Micah and I made an arrangement. He paid me a good sum of money for her."
"You sold me?" Jane yelled, her fingernails digging into her arms.
"Sold is such a harsh word," Will replied. "I like to think of it as showing Micah that you have worth."
Susie continued to laugh while Hank and Irene glanced at each other and then to their father.
"I've got news for you, Will," Jane seethed. "I'm not for sale. You will have to give Micah his money back because I refuse to marry him." How insulting! She didn't know who upset her more. Her brother for selling her like she was an animal or Micah for stooping so low he'd give her brother money for her. When she saw her brother's incredulous expression, she added, "No. No! I will not marry him. You will have to give him the money back!"
Her brother's mouth formed a thin line. "No, I won't. Micah will do you good. He's got a job and a home. What more could a woman want?"
"Someone who doesn't smell like he came from a garbage heap?"
"You're being picky. Micah is just fine."
"I don't care what you think, Will. I refuse to marry him."
"But I can't return the money. I need it to pay Gregory to replace the roof. Last time it rained, water trickled into my bedroom."
Huffing, Jane shook her head. "That's not my problem. You'll have to work something else out."
"Have a heart, Jane," her brother said. "I can't let the children live in a house without a good roof. You and Micah are going to the preacher, and there's nothing you can say about."
"You know Jeremy will never marry me to Micah when I say no."
"Oh, don't be silly. I wouldn't take you to Preacher Graham. He knows us. I'd take you to one who doesn't."
She gaped. "You can't force me to marry Micah!"
"That depends on the preacher."
"At least he's a man," Susie added with a shrug. "I don't see any other man coming by offering you his hand in marriage."
"Then you haven't been looking in the right direction."
The three stopped to turn their attention to the man who stood in the open doorway.
Jeremy stepped into the house. "The door was open so I took that as an indication that you didn't want me to bother knocking, but considering the discussion, I believe it was on oversight."
Jane blinked at his bitter tone.
Her brother's eyes widened and he let out a tentative laugh. "Preacher! I think you misunderstand the situation. I'm trying to help Jane."
"From what I heard, she doesn't want your help," Jeremy said. "In fact, it sounded like she's opposed to the marriage you proposed." He turned to her. "You don't want to marry Micah, do you?"
"Of course not," she replied.
Jeremy turned back to her brother. "That seems pretty clear to me. Did you have trouble understanding her?"
Her brother sighed. "It's not that easy, Preacher. There are things to consider."
"Like what?" Jeremy asked.
At first, he seemed baffled by the question but then answered, "For one, her age. She's not getting any younger. She'll be twentythree come January. I don't want to see her end up an old maid. She ought to have a husband to provide for her and children to tend to." With an excited nod, he continued, "Susie here has never been happier in her entire life. Her life was meaningless until she married me. Isn't that right, honey?"
Susie jerked and glanced from Jeremy to Will. "I need to check on supper. Come along, children." Without any delay, she nudged Hank and Irene so that they were hurrying on out of the parlor.
Will looked like he wanted to protest but then caught sight of Jeremy's grim expression and closed his mouth.
"Anything else?" Jeremy pressed.
Clearing his throat, he straightened his vest and nodded. "Alright. Yes, there is. I'm her brother. That means I'm the one who has to see to her welfare. That being the case, I can make decisions on her behalf, even important ones."
"I won't marry her to Micah."
"You're not the only preacher around."
"I think you'll be hard pressed to find a preacher who's willing to force a woman into a marriage she doesn't want."
"Force is such a harsh word."
"Then what would you call it?"
After a moment of staring at the ceiling, her brother said, "Convince. Yes, I'd convince the preacher it's best for her."
Jeremy narrowed his eyes at her brother. "Convince? Exactly what do you mean by that?"
Jane watched as her brother gave a slight shrug as he made a big show of checking the button on his shirt sleeve. She didn't like this. It seemed to her that her brother was planning something horrible. She stormed up to him. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I can't believe you would even strike such a bargain with Micah. I'm your sister, and this is how you treat me?"
Will glanced at Jeremy before he took her by the elbow and pulled her to the corner of the room. In a whisper, he said, "Tell him to go home. We shouldn't be having this discussion in front of him."
"There is no discussion, Will, because I'm not marrying Micah." Pointing her finger at him, she hissed, "You better get that through that thick skull of yours before I come after you with a rolling pin."
Jeremy strode over to them. "I've had enough. Will, you want to see her married so she can be fulfilled, correct?"
Her brother glanced at her uncertainly before he turned his attention back to Jeremy. "Ah… yes. I don't think a woman is complete without a man."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Jane shot back.
"If you were to use that kind of reasoning," Jeremy began, "you'd conclude that a man isn't complete without a woman either. In marriage, the two are united as one, after all." He looked at Jane. "Do you want to be married?"
"Of course, I do," she admitted.
"Ah ha!" Her brother pointed his finger at her and smiled in triumph. "There you go. See, Preacher. She does want to get married."
"Not to Micah!" she snapped.
"Micah. Some other man." He shrugged. "What's the difference?"
Now it was Jeremy who took her by the elbow and led her to another corner of the room. "Would you consider marrying me?"
Jane stared at Jeremy for a moment and thought she'd never heard anything more absurd. "But you're Rebecca's husband."
"I was Rebecca's husband," he softly reminded her.
She noted the regret in his tone and all the fight departed from her. "I can't marry you. Even if Rebecca's no longer with us, I can't take her place."
"I'm not asking you to take her place. Anyone can see your brother made up his mind, and you will end up marrying Micah because your brother will probably tell the preacher you were caught in a compromising situation with him. I believe that is the type of convincing he'll do."
Gasping, she put her hand to her chest and glared at her scheming brother who had a wary look on his face as he watched them. If she was smart, she'd get the rolling pin right now. Before she could head to the kitchen, Jeremy's quiet voice stopped her.
"I don't like what I'm seeing here, Jane. Rebecca was insistent you move out to the parsonage, and now I can see why. There's only one way I can prevent your brother from going through with his plan and that's to marry you."
Jane bit her lower lip and tried to decide the best course of action. Her plan had been to go to Omaha when Edith got settled in and look for a husband. But by the way her brother was determined to marry her off to Micah, it was unlikely she'd make it to Omaha. She considered Jeremy's offer. She knew it for what it was: a marriage in name only. Jeremy's heart was reserved for Rebecca and always would be.
She glanced at her brother and knew she was trapped. From the looks of it, her brother might even haul her off to a preacher tonight. She'd never felt so betrayed by anyone in her entire life, but she realized it all came down to money. Her brother would do anything to get it, and that included selling her.
With a sigh, she nodded in Jeremy's direction. "I'm sorry you had to step into this situation, but I'd much rather be with someone I can trust to do right by me than to be stuck with people who won't. I accept your offer, and I'll honor the love you have for my sister."
So much for the dream she'd once entertained of having a man come into her life and whisk her off her feet. But even if this arrangement didn't lend itself toward something of a romantic nature, at least it would get her brother and Micah to leave her alone for good. She's rather commit herself to a convent than spend the rest of her life with Micah.
Jeremy stepped forward and her brother frowned. "I got good news for you, Will. You no longer have to fret over the fate of your sister. I'll be marrying her tonight."
Her brother's jaw dropped. "You can't marry her."
"Sure, I can. I asked. She said yes. The only thing that's missing is a man to marry us, but we'll resolve that soon enough. Jane, I'll wait here while you get your things."
While her brother stammered on about how he'd already promised her to Micah, she stormed out of the parlor to get her belongings, realizing as she did so that what Susie kept telling her was right. She really didn't have a pot to piss in. Because her brother saw fit to squander her inheritance, all she had were her clothes, her grooming supplies, and a few tokens from her childhood. And worse yet, all of it fit in her carpet bag. Refusing to give it any more thought, she headed back to the parlor, passing the kitchen as she went.
Susie ran out into the hallway and stopped her. "You're leaving now?"
"Yes." Jane tried to pass her, but Susie blocked her. "What do you want?"
"Well, I didn't think you'd be marrying Micah tonight."
"I'm not marrying Micah. I'm marrying Jeremy."
Susie's eyes grew wide. "Why would Jeremy want to do such a strange thing? He still loves Rebecca."
"I don't believe the reason is any of your business. Please move out of my way so I can get out of this horrible house."
Jane thought for sure Susie would argue with her since she opened her mouth to speak and had the critical expression on her face, but Jeremy came into the hallway and cleared his throat. Susie glanced between Jeremy and Jane. Satisfied, Jane passed her, glad that she wouldn't have to live under the same roof with her any more.
"He'll never love you the way he loved Rebecca," Susie muttered under her breath.
Jane paused and turned to face her. Gripping the handle of her carpet bag, she got within inches of Susie and whispered, "You better hope Will doesn't sell you or the children next because that quadcycle idea of his is going to put you all out on the street."
She knew it was spiteful to say such a thing. Surely, her brother would treat his wife and children better than he treated her, but she couldn't deny the small sense of triumph she experienced in watching Susie's startled gaze.
As she went to the closet by the front door to gather her coat and hat, she caught sight of her bewildered brother who sat in his chair, getting ready to smoke his cigar. She contemplated ignoring him but decided she better speak her mind before her conscience got the best of her and she thought better of it.
She marched over to him. "If you so much as look in my direction, I'll slap you." Before he could reply, she spun on her heel and headed out of the house with Jeremy.
Chapter Six
After the marriage certificate was signed, Jeremy walked with Jane to his home. He experienced a slight twinge of guilt as he passed by the tree where he'd etched in his and Rebecca's names. It was just shy over a year since he married her. He fought the urge to go over to the tree and trace their names, as had become his habit. It didn't seem right to do such a thing with Jane.
Instead, he carried her carpet bag and walked by the tree as if it wasn't there. Glancing in her direction, he asked, "Will you be alright?"
Jane shrugged. "I'll be fine. I never knew my brother had it in him to sink so low, but I'll be fine."
"Was it always that bad with him since your parents died?"
"No. At first, things were pretty good. I think he made some poor financial decisions that made him do things he wouldn't otherwise do."
"That's still no excuse for trying to marry you to someone you didn't want to be with."
"I'm not excusing that. Every time I think about it, I want to go back over there and slap him. I almost did, you know. The only thing that held me back was that you were there. It's hard to get violent when a man of God is in the room."
Despite the grim situation that brought her to the point where she had to marry him, he smiled. "You do realize that I'm only human, don't you?"
"To be honest, it's hard to see you as being capable of making mistakes. You've been perfect every time I've seen you."
"I'm not perfect."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
At that, he laughed. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. I can't think of a single incident where you've been anything but perfect. It must come naturally since you're a preacher."
"I suppose since we're married, you'll learn that even preachers have their human moments. Rebecca figured that out early on."
"If she did, she never told me about it. To her, you could do no wrong." She gave him a pointed look that had a hint of amusement in it. "You make the rest of us look bad."
He shook his head but grinned. "Like I said, you'll discover soon enough how human I can be."
They continued up the path that led to the parsonage, and he opened the door to let her inside. Some things from his time with Rebecca remained in his home. The curtains, the rug she'd made, the embroidery she'd done of animals, the quilt she'd made and set on the couch by the fireplace… All of it spoke of her, and it had given him comfort more often than not because it reminded him that she'd been there, sharing her life with him.
He pushed back the memories of the first day he'd brought Rebecca home and turned to Jane. "You've been here before, so you know where things are."
"Yes. I'll take my things to my room."
Remembering he still held her carpet bag, he handed it to her and watched as she went down the hall to her new room—the room that was supposed to be for his and Rebecca's children. Once again, his thought went to the tree and the day he anticipated showing it to their children and grandchildren.
With a heavy sigh, he glanced around the kitchen and parlor, seeing it the way he did when he brought Rebecca home and she started talking about all the things she wanted to do to decorate it. He had no idea that marrying someone else could bring back the memories with such force.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he focused on Jane as she returned. "You already unpacked?" he asked, surprised.
"I didn't have much," she replied as she went over to the closet and hung up her coat and hat. "You know, if my brother had any sense at all, he would have waited until after supper to
announce his horrible plan." She headed for the kitchen and lit the kerosene lamp. "I'll get us both something to eat soon."
"Don't worry about making anything fancy." Not like he had anything fancy in to make anyway, but he felt no need to have her think he required a big meal. As she rummaged through the shelves, he shifted from one foot to the other. "Do you mind if I go for a walk? I won't be longer than a half hour."
She glanced at him and shook her head. "I don't mind. I expect that living with you will be like living with my brother, only you won't betray me."
Saying goodbye, he quietly left the house, thinking it was probably not the best way to start off another marriage, but neither he nor Jane were under the impression that this was like other marriages. She said it herself. Living with him was like living with her brother. And Rebecca had wanted to take Jane away from the situation she was in. If anything, he was fulfilling Rebecca's final wish, and he thought she might be happy to see that Jane didn't have to end up with Micah.
As he walked to the cemetery, he passed the tree and, this time, he went to it and traced the names. Funny how such a thing could be a comfort, but he reasoned that it'd become a habit and habits were, in and of themselves, a source of comfort to the one who did them. After he performed his ritual at the tree, he went to the cemetery and found Rebecca's grave marker which had flowers gently laid near it. He stood there for a moment to inspect the area and pulled out a few weeds before he determined that everything was in order.
"I know I don't make it a habit of coming here in the evenings, but something of a family emergency happened," he began.
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants and thought over how to best explain it. Obviously, if Rebecca were still alive, the marriage would never have occurred, and it seemed to him that this wasn't an ideal situation for Jane. She should have been able to marry a man who loved her instead of marrying him in order to avoid marrying Micah.
"Your brother was going to force Jane into a marriage she didn't want. He wanted her to marry Micah of all people. You know what he's like. Anyway, I tried to talk Will out of his nonsense, but it was apparent he was going to lie to a preacher about her moral conduct in order to get her married off." He took a deep breath and shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't take her to my house unless I married her. This doesn't change anything, Rebecca. I still love you and always will."
Even as he said the words, he wondered if she was unhappy with him. Logically, he understood their marriage ended when she died, but it still didn't seem right that he had another wife.
"And that's another thing. It's not like Jane and I have the kind of marriage we did. She's staying in the second bedroom, so you see, it's not the same thing as when we married."
No. When he married Rebecca, he wouldn't have left her alone in the parsonage while she made him something to eat. He rubbed his eyes. What a rough year it'd been, and the worst part was, it wasn't over. It was only September. Who knew what else would happen before the year was up?
"I better go back. It wasn't fair of me to leave her at the parsonage when she hasn't settled in yet. I don't think I'm doing anything right any more. I wish you were still here. Then everything would make sense again."
Tired, he told her he loved her and headed back for the house. When he got home, he saw that she had finished making supper and was setting the table from where he stood in the entryway. He took his hat and coat off and hung them up in the closet before he entered the kitchen.
She looked over at him as she put the silverware on the small table. "Did you have a good walk?"
He nodded. "I went to visit Rebecca's grave. Maybe it's silly, but I thought I should explain everything to her." Clearing his throat, he added, "I'm sorry I left you."
"You asked if I was fine if you went for a walk, and I said yes. There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm just sorry you had to get dragged into the mess between me and my brother."
"That's not your fault." He glanced at the table. "Do you need any help?"
"No. This is easy. I am hoping I can get another roast and cake made for you before the week is up. That's what you were supposed to eat over at—" she shrugged—"where I used to live."
"There's no need to go to all that effort. I'm simple."
"A steak and potato man, huh?" she guessed with a smile as she gathered the soup and set it in the middle of the table.
"Actually, yes. I do like steak and potatoes."
"I'll make some for you next time I go to the butcher."
"Oh, that reminds me." He took a jar from the shelf and showed it to her. "I used to put money in here for Rebecca to spend. Since she died, I stopped doing it, but now that you're here, I'll put it in again. That way, anytime you need something, you can get it."
"Thank you, Jeremy."
Noting the appreciation in her voice, he glanced her way before he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket so he could put some money into the jar. "Don't tell me your brother didn't give you money."
She collected the plate full of sandwiches and placed it next to the soup. "I had to go through Susie to get anything, and you know how well she and I got along."
"If I'd known just how bad it was, I would have taken you out of there sooner."
"The plan was for me to move to Omaha once Edith got settled in. By the way my brother was talking, I knew that wasn't going to happen."
After he put the lid back on the jar and place it on the shelf, he tucked his wallet into his pocket and turned to her. "Even if this marriage wasn't something either of us planned, it's nice to have you here. I always thought of you as a friend."
"The same is true for me, too." She motioned to his chair. "It may not be the meal I hope to give you tonight, but it'll work."
"A meal in good company is better than one with unsavory people, no matter what is on the menu."
"I won't argue with you on that." She sat down and unfolded her napkin which she placed in her lap. Giving him an amused look, she said, "I don't think it's possible to eat all the way over there."
"No, it's not." As strange as it was to sit at this table with someone other than Rebecca, he sat across from her and got ready to eat.
***
The next day after Jane made breakfast, she decided to go visit Edith. Before she left her new home, she stopped by the den where Jeremy was working on his sermon. She admired the fact that he didn't let the difficult time he had last Sunday deter him from working for another sermon.
When he glanced up from his notes, he blinked. "I didn't hear you."
She smiled as she leaned against the doorway. "I'm sorry. I got caught up in watching you work. I always wondered how a preacher prepared for his sermons."
With a chuckle, he shrugged as he motioned to the Bible and a Biblical commentary he had open beside his papers. "There's not much excitement in it. I pretty much just sit here, read, and think about what to say."
"But I do enjoy listening to what you come up with." Straightening up, she continued, "I thought I'd take advantage of this beautiful day and visit my friend, Edith. Afterwards, I'll make a stop by the butcher and pick up some steaks."
"With the promise of steak, I'm not sure I'll be able to focus on my work," he teased.
Amused, she rolled her eyes. "You'll manage. Anyway, I shouldn't be too long. Perhaps a couple hours."
"Jane, you don't need my permission to go somewhere. Take as long as you want."
She nodded and headed for the closet where she got her shawl and hat. She didn't realize how much she'd gotten used to reporting to Susie and Will every time she wanted to do something. Once she slipped into her shawl, she set her hat on her head and got enough money from the jar to make her purchase which she put into her purse.
She left the house and traveled down the path that would take her into the heart of town. It was really a perfect day. The leaves were beginning to change color, and the two squirrels crossing her path seemed to enjoy playing with each other. She smiled as they ran up a tree and jumped from one branch to another. It was unfortunate Rebecca wasn't here to share the moment with her. They used to go for walks whenever the weather was nice enough, and she'd gone with her on this path several times. There was no denying the emptiness Rebecca's absence left. Jane didn't give it much thought, but in moments like this, she couldn't help but think of her sister.
When she reached the main street, she scanned the area for Will, Susie, and Micah, and she was greatly relieved to see that none of them were in sight. She knew she'd have to come across them sooner or later, but later was fine with her. She passed several people and called out a greeting on her way to the street where Edith lived. As soon as she headed up the pathway that led to Edith's front door, the door flung open and Edith bounded down the steps.
"Oh Jane, is it true? Did you marry Preacher Jeremy?"
Jane wasn't sure if she should laugh or not, considering the way her cousin leaned forward in interest as she waited for Jane's answer. Placing one hand on her hip, she replied, "That no good brother of mine sold me to Micah."
Edith stared at her for a good moment before she shook her head. "What?"
"It's true. Will came home yesterday, happy as could be, and he announced that I was going to marry Micah. Do you know I was going to marry him? Not because I wanted to, but because Micah gave him money for me. I've never been so insulted in my entire life."
Edith followed her as she marched up the porch steps. "Oh, Will didn't! Micah didn't!"
Jane stopped in her tracts and turned to face Edith. "They did. It was horrible, Edith! I'm nothing but a commodity. First, Will took my inheritance and dumped it into the hole he calls an investment, and then he turns around and sells me to Micah. I don't know who I'm mad at more."
Edith pressed a hand to her cheek and shook her head. "That's awful."
"You're telling me! Will was ready to haul me right over to Micah's so we could get the preacher. And that's not the worst of it. He was ready to say I was caught doing something I shouldn't with Micah to force the marriage."
"He wasn't!"
"He was!"
"So what happened? How did you end up with Jeremy instead?"
Jane sighed, went over to a rocking chair, and sat down. "He came over for supper and heard enough of the conversation to figure out what was going on. Then he made the offer to marry me so I wouldn't have to marry Micah, and I agreed."
"Really?" Edith sat next to her and leaned in her direction.
"It's nothing. I mean, it is. He was terribly nice to step in the way he did, but it's not a marriage in the sense that you and Wilbur have a marriage. This was done to get me out of a tight spot."
"You're disappointed."
"Jeremy's Rebecca's husband, not mine. I feel like I betrayed her on one hand and denied myself a real marriage on the other. If Will wasn't ready to head me on out the door, I would've been able to think long enough to come over here. It all happened so fast. I'm still not sure how I ended up married to Jeremy."
Edith reached out to clasp Jane's hand. "I'm sorry. Who would have thought Will would do such a thing?"
"I sure didn't. He's had his moments, but never in a million years, would I have believed he'd stoop this low."
"It's a mighty shame he did that. I hope he has enough sense to go to another church after this."
"I don't know what he has the sense to do or not do."
Edith let go of her hand and sat back. "So, what happens now?"
Jane shrugged. "I continue on as before, except instead of living with my brother, I live with my brotherinlaw. It's an odd situation, isn't it?"
"I doubt Jeremy would marry anyone for the sake of saving her from marriage to someone like Micah. He must care for you."
"We're friends. I'm not saying we don't get along. We do. We did ever since he began courting Rebecca. I expect the marriage will be amiable, and maybe that's good enough. You know
how poor Rhonda suffers with her husband. The man dictates everything in her life. She can't even sneeze unless he approves it. At least Jeremy lets me make my own decisions."
After a moment of silence, Edith smiled at Jane. "It's true. You could do worse."
"And even if I went to Omaha to look for a husband, there's no guarantee I'd find one."
"Jeremy's a good man. He'll do right by you."
"I know." He would be good to her, and as long as she focused on what she'd been saved from, she wouldn't have time to pay attention to what she might have had if she'd been able to go to Omaha instead.
Chapter Seven
The knocking on his front door interrupted the final thoughts on the sermon he was preparing for Sunday. With a sigh, he wrote out the rest of what he planned to say in shorthand and left his den.
When he answered the door, he didn't hide his surprise. "Micah?"
Micah narrowed his eyes at him and crossed his arms. "I went over to Will Syas' residence and learned that you married his sister."
Just what he wanted: an unpleasant visit. Bracing himself for an argument, he said, "Will had no right to promise Jane to you. You should have known better than to strike such a bargain."
"I don't recall this being any of your business, Preacher. It was a family matter."
"Regardless of whether you agree with it or not, Jane decided she'd rather marry me than you. We got married yesterday evening, and there's nothing you can do to change that."
Grunting, he spit a bit of tobacco juice onto the grass and glared at him. "I paid Will for her, and now I'm out a good sum of cash because Will already spent the money."
"Is that what this is about? You want money? Fine. I'll give you money. How much did you give Will?"
"$5."
Now Jeremy was more insulted than he'd ever been in his entire life. He hoped Jane never discovered how cheap her brother was willing to sell her for. Biting back a lecture on the true value of a woman, Jeremy went to the jar on the kitchen shelf and took out $5, surprised that Jane hadn't taken more before she went shopping.
After he screwed the lid back onto the jar, he set it back where it belonged and handed Micah the money. "That should settle things as far as Jane is concerned."
"I ought to ask for an extra dollar since you stole her from me. She was my property, you know."
"The last time I checked, women were people, not things to be bought and sold. I'm under no obligation to give you any money. The only reason I did was so her brother wouldn't come around here to give her grief over it. Now that I've paid you what Will owes you, I trust the matter concerning Jane is over."
Micah grumbled but slipped the money into his pocket. "Very well. But don't expect me to come to your church anymore."
"Where you attend church is between you and God." Personally, he was relieved. He didn't want to have to look out over the congregation and see Micah twiddling his thumbs and staring out the window as he was prone to do.
Micah let out a slight belch before he turned and headed down the pathway.
Relieved, Jeremy shut the door, glad to be done with that conversation, if indeed one could call it that. He returned to his den where it took him a good fifteen minutes to get back to his work.
By the time he put everything away, the front door opened, and he heard Jane enter the kitchen. He went to see her and found that she had set a box of food onto the table. "Did you have a good morning?"
She glanced over at him while she took out a package of flour and yeast. "Yes. But did you? You look upset."
"Do I?" He hadn't meant to let what happened with Micah sour his mood.
"Did you have trouble finishing your sermon?"
"No. I managed through it fine. It should be a lot better than last week." He hesitated to say anything but then figured he might as well. "Micah stopped by."
She gasped and dropped the wrapped steaks back into the box. "Oh no!"
"Don't worry about it. I took care of the situation. He shouldn't be giving you any more problems."
"He never did, really. I mean, I didn't enjoy spending time with him, but I can't say he was rude." Drumming her fingers on the side of the box, she asked, "What did he want?"
"To express his displeasure." He decided to leave it at that. Even he would like to think Micah wanted more than a woman to clean his house and feed him meals, which was all Will had seen her as. With a shrug, he said, "I'm just glad you didn't run into him on your way back here."
"Thank heavens, I didn't," she replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'll be happy if I never see my brother and Micah ever again, though since it's a small enough town, I don't suppose it can be helped."
"You're safe from Micah at church. He told me he won't be going to mine anymore."
"Is it wrong to be glad for that?"
"Probably not. Besides, tomorrow is the christening for Jonathan's daughter, and I'd rather it be a pleasant experience for all in attendance."
She smiled and took out the rest of the items in her box. "It'll be a lovely ceremony. I'm looking forward to it." Once she emptied the box, she took some coins out of her purse. "I got the lard and sugar on sale, so I was able to save three cents."
Noting that she seemed especially proud of this, his lips turned up into a smile. "Alright, but you don't need to report how much you save. I know you're not a spendthrift."
She shrugged and placed the money in the jar. Her eyebrows furrowed as she inspected the jar's contents. "Wasn't there another five dollars in here?"
"Oh that. Yes, I needed the money so I took it out." Eager to change the subject, he turned to the steaks. "You really got steak while you were out?"
"And ingredients to make the cake you were supposed to have yesterday."
His eyebrows rose in interest. "Cake?"
Laughing, she put the jar on the shelf and went to the table where her supplies were scattered about. "I thought you might like that."
"Hmm… It's dangerous to start your first day off in a marriage with a cake. A husband is likely to expect it all the time."
"Cakes are easy enough to make. I used to make them all the time for Hank and Irene."
"Knowing how often you're used to making one, I'm really going to expect it all the time."
She laughed harder and shook her head. "I don't mind making you one every week."
He grinned and shook his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Another round of knocking came at the front door, so he excused himself and went to answer it, hoping it wasn't Micah or Will. As it turned out, it was a woman who wanted him to pray over her sick child. After he promised to be there, he found Jane at the table as she set out the food items to make a cake and already knew he would look forward to coming home now that she was living here.
"Jane, I have to pray over Mrs. Benjamin's child. It's nothing serious, but she has a tendency to fret over every sniffle."
Jane smiled as she set the cake pan on the table. "She has a good heart."
"That she does."
He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. With Rebecca, it'd been easy. He'd give her a kiss, tell her he loved her, and be on his way. Finally, he settled for saying, "I'll be home soon," and grabbed his suit jacket and hat. Soon enough, they'd settled into a routine, and then the little day to day activities wouldn't be so awkward. Content with the reminder, he headed on out.
***
A month later, Jane helped Edith pack. She tried not to cry as she placed her friend's things in boxes, but she caught herself wiping a couple of tears as they slid down her cheeks.
Edith walked into the bedroom with another empty box. "Jane, you have to stop crying. It's making me want to cry."
Jane laughed even as her eyes filled with more tears. "I can't help it. Besides Rebecca, you're the person closest to my heart."
Edith went over to her and hugged her. "I'm going to miss you more than anyone else in Lincoln."
"I'm going to miss you, too." Rebecca had a way with people that endeared her to them, so she never lacked a friend. For Jane, however, it'd been different. She didn't make friends easily, and though she knew enough people, those closest to her were now being removed from her life. Rebecca through death, and now Edith who was moving to Omaha. "We'll have to keep in touch."
"Most definitely." Edith pulled away from her and sighed. "Leaving didn't seem real until I started packing."
Jane nodded her agreement. It hadn't. "It's for the best, though. This will be mean good things for Wilbur, and he won't have to worry about how he'll provide for the little one."
Edith pressed her hand over her abdomen and smiled. "I still don't believe I'm expecting. Wilbur and I have been married for six years without conceiving and suddenly, we have one on the way."
"It's the timing of it. The baby knows you'll be ready financially and decided this is as good a time as any to come into the world."
"Oh, Jane. I know you jest, but it seems that way."
"Good things are in your future. It's a sign."
"I'm not one given to superstition."
"It's not superstition. It's a fact. Children are a blessing."
Edith giggled and hugged her again. "True."
Jane glanced at the many things that still needed to be packed. "We won't make any progress if we don't get to work."
"Ever the practical one," she teased. "But you're right. We need to get back to work. The house won't pack itself."
And so they returned to their task until almost everything was packed. When it came time for Jane to leave, she confirmed that Edith and Wilbur would be coming to her house for supper before she left Edith's to go to the general store to pick up some groceries for the meal. It would be the last one she would share with Edith for a long time, so she wanted to make something special.
As she scanned the shelves and tried to debate what type of dessert she should make, a child called out to her. She turned and smiled as Irene ran in her direction. Kneeling down, she hugged her niece. "How have you been doing, sweetheart?"
"Good. When are you coming home?"
"Didn't your parents explain that I got married?"
"Yes, but when are you coming home?"
Jane brushed the girl's hair away from her face. "I have a new home now. When I got married, I moved out of your house and into someone else's."
"Preacher Jeremy's?"
"Yes. Your parents did explain it to you then?"
She shrugged. "Ma says it wasn't worth it. She says it means she has to work hard."
That didn't surprise Jane, but she figured it wouldn't hurt Susie to assume the role she was supposed to have as a wife and mother. She often wondered how Susie managed before they moved into the house and she became their unofficial maid. To Irene, she said, "Your ma will be just fine." And probably better off.
"Pa says he wishes he'd gotten you for ten dollars instead of five."
"What?" Jane asked, the color draining from her face.
"Ma says you were worth more than that. She said he could have gotten a month's wages for all the work you did."
Jane couldn't believe this! So her brother had sold her for five dollars? That was all she was worth to him?
"Irene?" a familiar voice called out from the other side of the store.
Jane stood up and got ready to face her brother. Crossing her arms, she waited until he approached and tapped her foot on the floor.
Her brother jerked but smiled. "Jane! What a small world it is."
"Yes. In fact, it's much too small," she replied, aware her irritation made its way into her voice.
He cleared his throat and laughed. "You're probably wondering why we haven't been to church. Well, you see—"
"No. I wasn't wondering that."
"Oh?"
"Nope. I don't care where you spend your Sundays as long as they're not near me."
"Don't tell me you're still upset over the whole marriage thing."
"Are you aware it costs more than five dollars to repair a roof?"
He gulped and ran his finger under his collar. "So you know how much Micah gave me."
"I sure did."
"Yes, well, to be fair, the man I talked to quoted me five dollars, but it turned out to be the down payment. He didn't make it clear that it was a down payment, so I thought it was the full amount, you see, and—"
"Spare me the details." She shook her head and gripped her purse. "Even now, doesn't it occur to you that what you did was wrong?"
He started to speak but then looked at his daughter. "Honey, go on to your mother. She's at the counter."
Though Irene seemed reluctant, she obeyed.
Jane stared at her brother, thinking she wasn't going to like whatever came out of his mouth.
"I thought you and Micah would make a good match," her brother said. "Honestly, if I knew you took such offense to him, I wouldn't have made the deal to begin with."
"You mean you would have found another bachelor to pawn me off on?"
"Yes." Gasping, he shook his head. "No. That's not what I meant."
"Yes, it is!"
"Jane, keep your voice down," he whispered. "People are looking at us."
She glanced at the three people, including an amused Susie, who were starting at them. "What's wrong, Will? You don't want others to know how poorly you treat me?"
"What do you want from me?"
"An apology, for one."
"Alright. I'm sorry."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "Do you even know why you're apologizing?"
"Well, I obviously upset you."
Gritting her teeth, she hissed, "You have to the count of three before I hit you with my purse."
At that, he chuckled. "Oh come now, Jane. Seriously? What are we? Children?"
"One."
His smile faltered. "Are you upset because I wasn't going to share the five dollars with you?"
She charged at him with her purse raised in the air, but he swiftly dodged her attack and scrambled out of the store. Regretting that she'd even given him a warning, she grunted and straightened her coat. Despite her irritation, she ignored the other people watching her and turned her attention back to the shelves. She didn't want her misfortunate encounter with her brother to prevent her from having a nice day. Tonight would be the last time she'd see Edith for awhile, and she was determined to enjoy it.
She collected the items she needed and went home. By the time she opened the front door, she was crying. Once she set the box on the table, she pulled out a handkerchief from her coat pocket and collapsed into the chair. She didn't know whether it was her brother's uncaring attitude about selling her to Micah or the fact that she let it bother her as much as it did that made her cry the hardest, but she supposed it didn't matter. Her attempt to have a pleasant day was failing miserably.
"Jane, what's wrong?"
She wiped her eyes and saw Jeremy hurrying into the room. "I thought you had to visit Rich and Gloria."
"I already did." He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "Jane, what happened?"
"Nothing that I shouldn't have expected."
"What?"
With a shake of her head, she said, "I ran into my brother while I was at the general store, and would you believe he's not sorry about what he did?" More tears came to her eyes. "He doesn't even care about what he did to me!" She sobbed harder into her handkerchief.
Jeremy stood up to get a clean washcloth and handed it to her.
She thanked him and used it to wipe her eyes and cheeks. "As if that wasn't enough, he sold me for a measly five dollars. Why, that isn't enough to get food and pay rent for one week. And that's all I'm worth to him?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered and rubbed her back.
"I spent a year of my life cooking and cleaning for him and his family."
"I know."
"I've never been so insulted in all my life. I was so mad I tried to hit him with my purse."
He chuckled. "You what?"
She felt a slight smile turn her lips up. "The key word is try. I didn't succeed. The rat went on scurrying out of the store before I could do it. It would have been better if I had succeeded." She glanced at him and sighed. "I shouldn't be telling this to you. You're a preacher."
"You think just because I'm a preacher, I never get upset?"
As she wiped her nose, she shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"
"Of course I do. I'm only human."
"I've never seen you be anything but kind and calm."
"You weren't here when Rebecca died," he softly said. "I assure you, I can be angry."
"Well, sure, in a situation that awful. No one can blame you for that. You should have had a lifetime to be with her."
After a long moment of silence, he said, "I'm sorry your brother treated you so poorly. There's no excuse for it, and though it doesn't erase what he did, I want you to know that having you here has been good for me."
"Really?"
"I don't feel so alone anymore."
Her face flushed with pleasure at his words. "I'm glad, Jeremy. I didn't want to get in your way."
"You don't get in my way. And you should keep something in mind."
"What's that?"
"A good woman's worth is above rubies. It says so in the Bible. Five dollars was an insult. I'm just glad you're out of that house and don't have to deal with your brother anymore."
Knowing that Jeremy felt the way he did about their arrangement took the hurt away from what Will had said to her. Wiping her eyes again, she thanked him and turned her attention to putting the groceries away.
Chapter Eight
Jane sat in her usual spot in the church, which was in the front ever since she married Jeremy. It was close to Thanksgiving, so she had been sitting in the front for two and a half months, but she still felt out of place. She couldn't forget that this was Rebecca's place as little as a year ago. Worse, she wasn't as good with greeting the parishioners after each service. She recalled how easy Rebecca made it look. She'd smile and ask people questions about their families and jobs. She knew what to say and when to say it. But then, Rebecca had a gift for entertaining others.
Jane had no idea how tough Rebecca's shoes were to fill when she married Jeremy. Shifting in her seat, she tried to ignore the mental list of topics she's thought of to bring up when the people came to talk to her after the service so she could focus on the sermon. It took her a good five minutes before she realized that, though she was watching him, nothing he said registered in her mind. With a sigh, she gave up and went back to the things she might say once the service was over.
She didn't know why she assumed that the preacher had the tough job. People went up to him and told him how brilliant he was. No such words were offered to her, but all she did was sit in the front row and stare at him. Her gaze traveled to the cross, and she wondered if she was in trouble for not paying better attention to what Jeremy was saying. She might as well be like Gerdy and doze off. She closed her eyes and chastised herself for thinking of Gerdy in a bad way. The woman was advanced in years. She couldn't help it.
Jane took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She could do this. She could concentrate. Folding her hands in her lap, she straightened her shoulders and looked at Jeremy.
"And so it was when the Lord rewarded Zacchaeus for seeking Him out, He will reward us when we seek him," Jeremy said and then closed his Bible. "Let's all stand for a word of prayer."
Jane's eyes grew wide. The sermon was already over? She glanced around as everyone stood and reluctantly got to her feet. Wonderful. Now that she had no idea what Jeremy gave his
sermon on, she'd have to wing it with parishioners who assumed since she was married to him, she knew everything he talked about. She only had one prayer at this moment, and it was to get through the next twenty minutes without looking like a fool.
Once service was ended, she decided she would opt for the safest place in the church, and that just happened to be right by Jeremy's side. She didn't always run over to him, but she figured with her inability to concentrate on his sermon, she better.
Jeremy laughed when she reached his side. "My sermon must have been really good today if you're running over to congratulate me."
"Oh. Well, yes. It was." She was sure it was. He'd looked happy behind the podium, so he had to have had a good sermon.
"It's nice to see you enjoying yourself again. You know. Up there." Jane motioned to the podium.
"It is nice," Jeremy replied. "I haven't felt this good in a long time."
She smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." Now she was really sorry she didn't pay attention to what he said during the sermon. It must have been one of his better ones if the way his face glowed was an indication of how it went.
The first couple came up to them, so she turned her attention to them and let Jeremy do most of the talking.
"Sometimes I wonder the oddest things when reading Scripture," the middleaged man said. "Like in today's reading. I wonder how tall that tree was that Zacchaeus climbed. Do you ever wonder about stuff like that?"
Jane stared at him and tried to gauge whether he was kidding or not. He was chuckling and had a twinkle in his eye, and he was known for joking.
Jeremy grinned. "I think the better question is how tall were the people in the crowd."
The man gave a hearty laugh and patted Jeremy on the back.
So he was joking. Jane joined them and laughed, even though she felt like the odd person out.
The next couple came up to them, and this time it was the woman who spoke. "What a lovely sermon, Preacher. Would you believe I had a dream about this very topic last night? It's a sign, don't you think? I think so. Why, it's like that time I went to the general store and saw the apples lined up in a row. I had a dream about rows and rows of corn lined up just like those cornstalks. Do you ever have dreams like that? Not necessarily about apples, mind you, but about something that has a parallel to something in real life? I think those are fascinating dreams, don't you? But then, I think what really matters is that we're open to hearing God in the little things. Sometimes He speaks in a whisper. That's true, isn't it, Preacher?"
Jane blinked, not sure what the woman was blabbering on about.
Without missing a beat, Jeremy answered, "I do believe you had a dream about apples. No, I haven't had dreams of a similar nature. I think the dreams can be interesting but only as a form of entertainment. Yes, sometimes God speaks in a whisper."
Jane turned her startled gaze to him. How did he keep track of everything the woman rambled on about? No wonder the people liked him. He was quick on his feet with a good response. Jane had to admit she admired the way he handled his job. She sure couldn't do it.
The woman looked pleased, called out farewell, and led her baffled husband away. Jane didn't blame her husband, and in some ways, she felt sorry for him. She couldn't imagine what it was like to live with someone who spoke that fast.
Jeremy glanced at her and patted the small of her back. "Years of training."
Her face flushed from his touch, and she struggled not to give thought to how her heartbeat picked up. "You read minds?" she whispered, surprised he knew what she was thinking in regards to the woman's rambling.
"You looked shocked that I was able to answer all of those questions."
She didn't realize her expression was so readable. She wondered if he knew that she hadn't been paying attention to his sermon. Thankfully, Gerdy came forward and greeted them, so Jane didn't have to dwell on how much Jeremy actually picked up while he was preaching.
"A fine sermon once again, Preacher," Gerdy said.
"Thank you, Gerdy," he replied.
Gerdy turned to her and squeezed her hand. "It's nice to see him get some of that old fire back." She winked and headed off.
Jane's face grew even warmer, and she wasn't sure if it was because it suddenly occurred to her that Gerdy didn't doze off as much as she let on or if it was the implication that Jane had something to do with Jeremy's good mood.
"I told you getting cake all the time would spoil me," Jeremy said. "A man can't help but get fired up when there's cake waiting for him at home."
Jane laughed. Of course, it was the cake. Her mother always said a way to man's heart was through his stomach. Not that she expected to get to his heart. That was Rebecca's place, but it was good to see him happy again. Sighing, she glanced down the line of people waiting to talk to him. She'd like to think it was more than the cakes and cookies that gave him joy these days.
Someone tapped her on the arm. Surprised, she turned and saw Marcy who was holding her baby in one arm.
While Jeremy greeted the next couple, Jane stepped aside so she could talk to Marcy. "Hello, Marcy. How is the little one?" She brushed back the golden locks on the child's head. "I still can't believe how much hair she has."
"I know. I already have to comb it."
"Well, she's adorable."
"Thank you. Anyway, I wanted to invite you and Jeremy to supper sometime this week."
Jane glanced at Jeremy. She knew this was part of his job, and it wasn't like they hadn't been to other people's homes for meals but they usually approached him about it. She tried to think of whether or not he had anything planned for the week with another parishioner. "Did you have a particular day in mind?"
"Wednesday?"
Jane thought over what Jeremy had told her about the upcoming week and didn't remember him having anything important to do on that day. "I think that will work."
Marcy smiled. "We'll expect you then."
Jane nodded and returned to Jeremy's side. Too late she recalled how Marcy had been good friends with Rebecca, and she immediately worried that going to Marcy's house would remind Jeremy of Rebecca. She thought about going back to Marcy and getting out the supper, but Marcy was already out of the church. She sighed. Well, she'd just have to ask Jeremy if having supper at Marcy's would bring up unpleasant memories when they had a moment alone.
Two more couples came up to talk to Jeremy, and out of the corner of her eye, Jane realized someone was heading in her direction. She glanced at her aunt Fiona and inwardly cringed. Dear Lord, not her again. She scanned the room and found there was nowhere to hide or someone she might run up to in order to start a conversation.
In what she knew was a futile attempt, Jane focused on the man talking to Jeremy and feigned interest in what he was talking about, which, if she understood it right, had to do with driving a train. He threw out some words that she didn't recognize but was sure they had to do
with train parts and nodded with more enthusiasm than a human being could possibly feel about the topic.
"Of course, that was back in 1883," the man said, fiddling with his pocket watch. "These days, trains a lot nicer to ride."
"You don't say," Jane replied just as Fiona came in hearing distance. "Please, tell us more."
The man tucked his watch into his pocket. "What do you want to know more about?"
She suppressed the urge to grimace. Really, did he have to toss back a question? "Uh… How were the seats." Even as she said it, she knew it was lousy.
"They're more comfortable today."
She waited, still nodding and smiling in hopes it would encourage him to continue, but he stared back at her as if he had no idea what to say next. "How about the engines? Are they different? And if so, how?" There. That ought to keep him talking long enough for Fiona to give up on waiting for her.
"Naturally, the engines were different. Advancements have been made, and some of them would surprise you."
"How so?"
A sharp poke on her arm forced Jane to look in Fiona's direction. "Jane, I have a concern to discuss with you."
With a weak smile, Jane motioned to the man. "I'll be happy to talk to you later this week —"which was a lie, for she had no intention of stopping by the woman's house—"because right now I'm listening to the fascinating history of trains."
While the man continued to ramble on to Jeremy, Fiona clasped her hands at her waist and shook her head. "Trains can wait. What I have to discuss with you is a family matter."
"But I can't leave my husband," she whispered. "He's working."
"You mean Rebecca's husband?" Fiona whispered back.
Jane's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly forced it back. "It would be rude of me to ignore these people."
Fiona slipped her arm around Jane's and led her away from the group. "What I have to ask will only take a moment."
"But…" She glanced over at Jeremy who looked at her with a questioning look on his face. She didn't know if he'd interpret her request for help, but she did her best to ask for it without saying anything.
"Now, Jane," Fiona began in a firm tone, "Thanksgiving is next week."
"Right you are, Aunt Fiona," Jane answered. "Thanks for the reminder!"
She made a move to go back to Jeremy, but her aunt grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Every year, the family gets together for a wonderful meal."
Jane shifted from one foot to another as she ran thought a list of possible reasons why she and Jeremy couldn't go to her house.
"Will and Susie have already agreed to come," Fiona said. "And that leaves you and Jeremy. Granted, I'm aware you married Jeremy to get out of a real marriage to Micah, but since it's legal, the only fair thing to do is to invite him, too."
"Hello, Fiona," Jeremy called out as he walked over to them. "Did you enjoy the service this morning?"
Good. He was here. Jane breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he was there, her aunt would harp on her about her brother.
Fiona gave him a nod. "It was adequate."
"Adequate?" Jeremy asked.
"Oh yes. The whole tree thing and the short man. It was fine. But I wanted to extend the invitation to you and Jane to come over to my place for Thanksgiving dinner. It's a family tradition, you know. Last year, Will was the host. This year, it's my turn."
Jane bit her tongue so she wouldn't tell her aunt that Will was the host in name only. She was the one who did all the work!
Jeremy glanced in Jane's direction before he answered Fiona. "You are aware of the rift between Jane and Will, are you not?"
Fiona shrugged. "They're brother and sister. There's bound to be a rift here and there, but for Thanksgiving, it behooves everyone to put aside their differences in the spirit of getting along."
"While it's a good idea to get along with others as much as you can, there are some people who make the task impossible," he replied.
Jane's eyes widened, impressed by the way he worded that sentiment. If it'd been her, she wouldn't have used such finesses.
Fiona nodded. "That is true, Preacher, but Will is willing to bear with Jane for the sake of the family."
"Bear with Jane?" she snapped.
Jeremy held his hand up to her and turned to Fiona. "I think the better way of stating it is that Jane would have to bear with Will. Actually, I'd have to also bear with him, and to be honest, that's not something I look forward to."
Fiona's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't follow you, Preacher."
"You are aware that Will wanted to sell Jane into marriage, aren't you?" Jeremy asked. "Micah's told enough people that I was coveting another man's wife, even though that would be impossible since Jane wasn't married to him, nor did she care to marry him."
"Perhaps that is the way you tell it, but she did go to the potluck with Micah."
"Because my brother arranged it," Jane inserted.
"But you didn't go with the preacher instead, did you?" Fiona asked.
"Why would I? He wasn't courting me," Jane replied, aware her voice was too loud in the small church.
"Which is why it came as such a surprise when you two married." Fiona motioned to Jeremy. "But that is neither here nor there. What I'm concerned about is the dinner. I have an entire menu planned and made decorations. All that's missing is the family."
"I'm afraid," Jeremy began, "until Will apologizes for the way he treated Jane, we can't accept."
Fiona sighed. "Maybe it's your youth, but in my day, we didn't let something as minor as a family squabble prevent us from getting together to give thanks for our blessings. We put on a happy face and pretended we were happy to see everyone."
"I think we'll have to agree to disagree on this one," he said. "Jane and I regretfully decline the invitation unless Will admits what he did was wrong."
It wasn't the answer Fiona wanted, Jane knew, for her mouth formed a tight line and she let out a small huff. Even so, she said, "Alright. Thanksgiving won't be the same without the entire family there, but I suppose without Rebecca there, it wouldn't have been the same anyway."
Jeremy stiffened. "I assure you that if Rebecca was alive, she wouldn't attend the dinner because of the way Will treated Jane. Rebecca wasn't the type of person who tolerated anyone mistreating her sister."
Fiona gave a slight gasp before she shrugged. "I suppose we'll never know for sure since she isn't here. Fine. So you won't be coming to my house. It's a shame the children will miss out on seeing their aunt and uncle. I hope you'll consider what you'll do when your next niece or nephew is born.
That was the only part about not seeing her brother Jane missed. Hank and Irene were the only ones who made her time under her brother's care worth her while.
"Good day, Preacher. Jane," Fiona said before she strode out of the church.
Jane sighed. She couldn't think of a way that the conversation with Fiona might have gone well unless she caved and agreed to attend the dinner, but she had no such inclination. "Thank you," she told Jeremy.
"Try to give her no more thought," he replied. "Some people don't take into account that a person has the right to say no."
"I can't go, no matter what she thinks. I'd be likely to throw a drumstick at my brother, and then everyone would be talking about how unladylike I am which wouldn't do you any good."
"That's because people assume preachers and their families aren't human." He glanced around the church and smiled. "Give Fiona no more thought. She's not worth it. Are you ready to go home?"
Feeling better, she nodded and joined him on the walk to the parsonage.
Chapter Nine
Jeremy placed the small basket of autumn leaves by Rebecca's grave and pulled out the weeds. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees and lit up her name. With a faint smile, he brushed a leaf off her marker and stood up.
"I don't know how much longer I can keep bringing leaves. Snow will fall soon, and I doubt you'd appreciate a basket of snow."
He placed his hands in his coat pockets and glanced around the quiet cemetery. Sometimes, it was almost peaceful out here.
"Tomorrow, Jane and I will go over to Jonathan and Marcy's. It won't be the same without you. Besides going to the potluck, I haven't been over to their house to eat, and even at the potluck, I spent most of my time hiding. Second to Jane, Marcy was your closest friend. I expect it to be awkward since we spent so much time with them. Maybe I shouldn't have closed myself off from them after you died, but I couldn't look at Marcy without thinking of the way you two could talk for hours and never seem to run out of topics. I don't know how you did it. It seems that sooner or later, you'd be unable to think of anything else to say."
The wind blew and knocked over the basket so he picked it back up and found a rock to slip into it to anchor it down. There. That was better. He straightened again and sighed.
"I don't know how tomorrow evening will go, to be honest, but it is long overdue for me to visit them. At least Jane will be there. I don't think I could go alone."
He chuckled.
"You know your aunt Fiona? She was at the church last Sunday and wanted me and Jane to go to her Thanksgiving dinner. We refused, of course, because of what happened with Will, but Jane made a comment that you'd enjoy. She said the reason she couldn't go to Fiona's was because she'd throw a drumstick at Will. I was tempted to suggest we could open the window to the dining room and she could do it from outside the house instead. Then he'd never know who did it, and she'd still get to throw it at him."
Laughing, he shrugged.
"You have to admit the image is hilarious. The only reason I didn't tell her what I was thinking is because she assumes I wouldn't entertain such thoughts. Not that I'd take her to Fiona's to actually do that, but it's still funny when you imagine it."
Once his laughter died down, he promised Rebecca he'd be back later in the week with more leaves to put in the basket and headed home. When he walked through the front door, he noticed that Jane was counting the money she had left over from her latest trip to the general store.
She glanced up at him and showed him her change. "I had to pick up a pound of coffee, a quart of milk, four pounds of butter, and vinegar. Here's what I have left."
Placing his coat in the closet, he said, "I keep telling you that I don't need a list of things you buy, and I know you're frugal with the money."
With a look at the change in her hand, she nodded and turned to the jar which she pulled down from the shelf. "I'm sorry. I forget."
"That's fine. I know that your brother required you to give an account for every penny you spent." How she managed as long as she did under her brother's roof, he had no idea. He probably would have lost patience with Will within the first week. Once he placed his hat on the shelf of the closet, he closed the door and went over to the table to inspect the items on the shelves. "It doesn't look like there's anything to make a cake with."
"I rearranged the items up there," she said. "That way I can grab what I need from one area instead of jumping around."
"You hop up and down while you cook?" he teased.
Though she rolled her eyes, her eyes twinkled. "No, silly. It was a figure of speech. I just got tired of reaching for something from one shelf and having to grab something else from another. Granted, it's not a major change, but I think it'll be more efficient."
"I'm sure it will be. So, is there enough for a cake?"
"Of course, there is. You don't think I'd let you go for a week without your favorite food, do you?"
"I wouldn't say cake is my favorite food."
"No?"
"No." He grinned. "It's my favorite dessert."
"Hmm… Something tells me if I served it for the main course, you'd be just fine with it."
His smile widened. "You'll do that?"
She laughed and shook her head. "No."
His smile fell. "Why not?"
"Because you need real food. You know, meat, vegetables, fruits…"
"I'll have those for dessert instead."
Sighing, she started placing the items she just purchased in their new spots on the shelves. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I warned you that making cake as soon as we got married was going to get you in trouble."
"So you did. I suppose I only have myself to blame."
With a wicked smile, he asked, "Can I have it as the main course then?"
She finished putting the items away and placed a hand on her hip. "No. Now don't ask me anymore because I won't change my mind."
"You can be unusually stubborn."
She shrugged and set the box under the work table. "I never said I wasn't."
"True," he conceded.
Standing up, she gave him a good look and groaned. "I'll make you cake for supper."
"Really?"
"But it's for dessert."
"Fair enough."
"Good."
"Good." She shook her head but smiled. "You're surprisingly stubborn."
"Me? You're the one making me wait for dessert to eat it."
"I'll get started right away."
Smiling, thanked her and headed for the den to do get started on Sunday's sermon.
*** The next evening, Jane inspected her reflection in the mirror. She didn't know why she was so nervous about seeing Marcy and Jonathan. Well, she wasn't nervous about seeing Jonathan. He and Jeremy would likely run off to the parlor to talk as her brother would do when he had male guests at the house. So, most likely, her conversation with Jonathan would be limited to the dinner. But that left her with Marcy. She didn't know Marcy very well. The only times she'd gone to her house had been when Rebecca wanted to get something or give her a quick message. Jane had spent most of her time sipping and coffee and glancing out the window while the two good friends chatted.
Jane fiddled with the pins in her hand. This supper wasn't a good idea. It seemed harmless enough at the time, but now she had no idea what she and Marcy might discuss. Maybe the baby would help break the tension. Finding hope in that, she put the rest of the pins in her hair to hold it up. She took a deep breath and stood up.
After she slipped on her boots, she went to the parlor to check the clock. She wondered how short a supper might be. There would be the prelude where they would have to talk for a bit. Maybe that would take twenty to thirty minutes. Then there would be the meal, which would probably run about thirty minutes to an hour, depending on how much the men wanted to talk with the women. Afterwards, the men would slip off into the parlor so she would help Marcy with the dishes. Perhaps the baby would fuss and send Marcy out to care for her. If all went well, she might slip by with an hour at the most where she'd have to come up with something to say. As long as she stuck to Marcy's daughter, then things might be alright.
She ran through a list of questions to ask Marcy about her baby while she went to the closet and got her coat and hat on. Just as she put on her gloves, Jeremy opened the front door, snow covering his hat and coat.
Hopeful, she asked, "Is it snowing too much?"
"Oh, it's fine. Some snow fell on me when I walked under a tree. We're just having flurries now."
Trying to hide her disappointment, she nodded and buttoned her coat.
"You're wearing your new dress tonight?"
"I thought it'd be a good occasion for it." Her hands paused on the button she was about to slip through the hole as she looked at him. "Should I save it for church instead?"
He laughed. "No. I just haven't seen you in it, that's all. You look nice."
"Thank you," she replied, her face growing warm from the compliment. Avoiding further eye contact, she finished buttoning her coat and turned the collar up.
"There are enough trees lining most of the path so I didn't have to shovel as much as I thought."
"Are you mad at me for telling Marcy we'd be there tonight?"
"Why would I be mad?"
Shrugging, she joined him at the door. "I didn't ask you about it first." She walked by him and stepped outside. "I should have."
After he shut the door, they started down the path. "You knew I was friends with them. I figured it was like Edith asking us to supper. I said yes and you weren't there. Were you upset with me?"
"Of course not. I loved going to her house."
"It's the same thing." When he glanced in her direction, he chuckled. "Don't worry about it. It's about time I went over there." "In that case, I'm glad I accepted the invite." And it was true. Even if she was a mass of nerves, she could take comfort in knowing he'd enjoy the evening. In any case, it was much better than when she had to endure Micah's company at the potluck. She took comfort in that.
"Nervous?"
"Does it show?"
"A little."
There wasn't anything she could say to that, so she opted to keep silent on the matter. The stroll to Jonathan and Marcy's house was pleasant. Even if it was chilly, Jane enjoyed glancing up at the sky and seeing the twinkling stars. "Do you ever wonder if Rebecca is watching us from up there?"
"From time to time, I do, but then I imagine she's happier than she's ever been, and I'm content."
"There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss her."
"The same is true for me. We were lucky to have known her."
She nodded.
Soon enough, they arrived at the house and Jane took a deep breath as Jeremy knocked on the door. Jonathan was the one who opened the door, and he had a wide smile on his face as he shook Jeremy's hand.
"It's good to see you outside of the church," Jonathan said.
"Now come on. I've been known to get out from time to time," Jeremy replied.
"Maybe, but you've made yourself scare more often than not." He turned to Jane. "It's nice to see you, too."
Jane returned the greeting and stepped into the house at his beckoning. Once they hung up their coats and hats, she went to the parlor where Marcy was rocking her daughter in her arms. For a moment, Jane regretted that she hadn't been by her brother's to see her new niece. If she could manage to think of him without wanting to yell at him, she would have done it, but every time she thought about what he did, she still got angry.
Marcy smiled at them. "Have a seat. We'll eat shortly."
Since Marcy sat in a chair and Jonathan sat in the other chair, Jane and Jeremy sat on the couch. When Jane came here with Rebecca, they'd sit on the couch, but she didn't notice how small it was. No matter which way she shifted, his leg or arm would brush hers. Finally, she settled for it being his arm since it seemed less personal.
Jonathan led most of the discussion, but Jane didn't pay much attention. Her gaze kept going to Marcy and the baby who cooed and laughed in her arms. For a moment, she wondered what it might be like to hold her own child but forced the image aside. She didn't have that kind of marriage. She reminded herself that it was better than marrying Micah. No matter how many children she had in that marriage, it wouldn't have been worth it. She shuddered.
"Are you alright?" Jeremy asked.
Blinking, she looked at him and the others who watched her. "Oh, yes. I'm fine." When they didn't speak, she added, "Continue on."
"Actually, Jonathan asked you a question," Jeremy said.
Her face grew warm and she clenched her hands together, hoping they didn't notice her anxiety. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I was distracted by your darling child. Could you repeat the question?"
Jonathan smiled. "I asked what you think of being a preacher's wife."
She glanced at everyone and tried to gauge what type of reply they expected. What would Rebecca say? She didn't think it would be appropriate to come out and say rarely knew what to say to people and she surely didn't feel like she was good enough to be held in such high esteem. When people looked at Jeremy, they saw a man who was perfect, and from her time with him, she couldn't fault them for thinking that. But because they saw him that way, they had a tendency to think she was that way, too, and came to her for advice on how to handle their problems. Most of the time, she manage to wiggle her way out of the conversation, but sometimes, she gave inadequate advice.
Noting that Jeremy, Jonathan, and Marcy were still watching her, she offered a weak smile and said, "It's fine."
Jonathan waited for a moment as if thinking she might continue and when she didn't, he nodded. "Good."
When he turned the conversation in another direction, Jane breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced at the clock above their fireplace mantle and saw she and Jeremy had already been here for a good twenty minutes. Twenty very slow and agonizing minutes. Time hadn't gone so slowly when she was with Rebecca, but it was easy to talk around Rebecca. Rebecca had a way of making everyone comfortable.
Ten minutes later, it was time to eat, and Jane was more than happy to keep food in her mouth so she didn't have to add anything to the conversation. Not that she could think of anything to add, so it was just as well that she remained out of it. She could see why Rebecca and Jeremy
often came here and had Marcy and Jonathan at their place. Jeremy, Jonathan, and Marcy lacked for no topics. It was hard not to envy Rebecca for her ability to join in as a part of the group. She didn't envy Rebecca often, but sometimes when she thought of all Rebecca could do with little effort, a bit of jealousy would rise to the surface. And, as she'd done at those moments, she quickly thought over her chores for the next day.
After supper ended, she was grateful the task now turned to cleaning the dishes. It gave her something useful to do. As Jeremy and Jonathan retired to the parlor, she turned to Marcy who was checking on her baby who cooed in the bassinet which sat in the corner of the dining room.
"I'd be happy to take care of the dishes while you tend to your daughter," Jane said, praying the woman would agree since she wouldn't have to make conversation with her while cleaning up.
Marcy chuckled. "Don't be silly. This is my house. I need to clean up."
Hiding her disappointment the best she could, Jane nodded. "Will you let me help?"
"That's very nice of you."
Jane rolled up her sleeves and collected as many plates and glasses as she could before she took them into the kitchen. With any luck, the baby would cry and Marcy would be forced to tend to her. She continued bringing the dishes into the kitchen while Marcy got the water ready to wash them in the sink. Jane didn't hurry through the task, and when the dishes were cleared, she wiped the table down and pushed the chairs in.
When she couldn't think of a single thing left to do in the dining room, she went over to the bassinet and saw a very content little girl who was shaking her rattle. She shook her head. Who would believe a baby could behave so well for so long? She leaned toward the girl and smiled. "If you want to cry, that'd be fine with me. There's no sense in being good on my account."
The baby looked her way and gurgled in response.
Jane laughed. As much as she'd rather stay with the baby, she knew it'd be rude so she went to the kitchen. Clearing her throat, she strode over to the sink. "Everything's clean out there. Mind if I dry the dishes?"
"Thank you, Jane. That'd be nice."
She picked up a dry cloth and started wiping the dishes down. "You have pretty plates."
"Well, thank you. They were a gift from my parents when Jonathan and I got married."
As Jane continued wiping the plate, she thought of what else to say. Finally, she said, "Your girl is as cute as a button. Of course, I said that when I was here with Susie and her children, but it bears repeating."
Marcy handed her the last dish and smiled. "Thank you. Again." While Jane put the dishes away, Marcy made coffee and took out some tarts. "I made these earlier today so I wouldn't have to worry about making it tonight, but don't tell anyone."
"I wouldn't dare."
She collected the tray with the coffee pot and cups on it and followed Marcy to the parlor. With a glance at the clock, she saw that she and Jeremy had already been there for almost two hours. The evening was already half over.
"Would you like to sit by me, Jane?" Jeremy asked as he stood to pour the coffee.
"Alright." She reached for an empty cup to fill, but he stopped her.
"You did enough work. It won't hurt me to get your cup for you," he said.
The baby cried so Marcy excused herself and left the room. Jane forced the urge to roll her eyes as she sat down. Sure. Now the baby chose to get Marcy's attention. With a sigh, she sat down and took the cup from Jeremy.
"Do you want a tart?" he asked.
"No thank you." She'd had too much to eat at supper and could already feel a mild stomach ache because of it. If she hadn't been so eager to keep her mouth full, she would have stopped before she got to this point.
Jeremy sat next to her with a cup in one hand and a tart in the other.
"Aren't you going to get a cup for me?" Jonathan teased.
"You're not pretty enough," Jeremy replied with a grin.
Jonathan let out a loud sigh but stood to fill his cup and then another one. "I better get Marcy's ready. I can't have you looking better than me." Once he sat down, he looked at Jane. "I hear you make Jeremy a lot of cake."
With an amused glance in Jeremy's direction, she said, "It's easy enough to make. I don't care much for pies. The crust usually falls apart on me."
"Ah, well, you ought to ask Marcy to give you her recipe. She has a way around that problem. She won the cooking contest three years in a row because of it."
Though Jane nodded, she had no inclination to ask Marcy for anything. She just wanted to go home.
Jeremy shook his head. "Don't listen to him, Jane. I much prefer cake."
"Come now," Jonathan began, "you need some variety in your desserts."
"No, I don't. I can eat cake every day and be happy."
Jane didn't doubt that one and found herself smiling because of it. She did make more than cake, but there was no doubt he had a greater enthusiasm for cake.
Marcy returned with the baby who was resting on her shoulder. "Did I miss anything good?"
Jonathan held out her cup to her which she took and sat in her chair. "Apparently, Jeremy gets stuffed silly on cakes these days."
"Oh?" Marcy asked as she shifted her baby a bit before taking a sip of her coffee.
"Yes. Jane makes him one at least once a week," he said.
Marcy glanced at Jane and set the cup on the small table next to her. "I suppose that works for some men."
Jonathan chuckled. "I can't think of a single thing wrong with cake."
"That's because there isn't," Jeremy said, which earned him a couple of chuckles from Marcy and Jonathan.
Jane wasn't sure, but she suspected Marcy wasn't too fond of her. She didn't know what gave her that impression. On all outward appearances, Marcy was pleasant enough, but Jane couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her gut. When Jeremy rose from the couch and announced it was time to go, Jane almost collapsed with relief. The night was finally over!
As she rushed through the task of putting her coat, hat and gloves on, Jeremy mingled long enough to make some more small talk before he said goodbye and thanked them for a lovely evening.
Jane decided to leave it at a simple thank you, for she couldn't say it was lovely but she survived it and that counted for something.
On their way home, Jeremy said, "We won't go there for supper again."
Surprised, she looked at him. "Why?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea."
She thought of asking him to explain what he meant but decided she might be better off leaving the matter alone, and so, she kept silent the rest of the way home. Chapter Ten
That Sunday morning while Jane got ready for church, she glanced at the letter that rested on the small table in her room. She picked it up and reread it, her lips curled up into a smile at Edith's familiar script. She missed her friend but was glad Edith was happy in Omaha. She bit her lower lip as her eyes fell to the invitation for Jeremy and Jane to come for a visit.
With a last minute check at her reflection in the small mirror on the wall, she patted her hair, satisfied it was neatly pulled back into a bun and went to the kitchen where Jeremy was finishing a cup of coffee while he skimmed his notes for the sermon. She waited until he looked in her direction before she stepped forward to speak.
"Is that the letter from Edith?" he asked, motioning to it as he folded his notes.
"Yes," she replied. "She wants to know if we'd be willing to visit her and Wilbur in Omaha for Christmas." There. She said it. Exhaling, she waited for his answer.
"We can do that."
She blinked, not sure she heard right. "Really?"
Chuckling, he placed his cup on the work table and nodded. "Why are you surprised?"
"I thought maybe you'd like to stay in Lincoln for Christmas."
"I have no family except you, and Edith is your cousin and friend. She and Wilbur are good people. I have no objection to going."
Relieved, she ran over to him and gave him a quick hug. "Thank you, Jeremy. I miss her terribly."
"I know you do." He laughed and led her to the closet. "You don't get out enough."
"I go to the general store about twice a week, and I talk walks when the weather is nice."
After he tucked his notes in this suit pocket, he grinned. "That's not what I meant. You don't do social things."
Frowning, she waited for him to take her coat off the hook and turned around so he could help her slip into it. "Are you disappointed?"
"No. I was just making an observation, that's all." He handed her a hat and gloves.
"Are preachers' wives supposed to visit people in town?" she asked as she ran her thumb across the brim of her hat.
"You're fine. You go with me when invited to go to someone's house to eat."
"Yes, but we don't do it often. Should we do it more?"
"We're fine."
"What do people expect from me?"
"All anyone can expect is for you to be you." He smiled as he shrugged into his coat. "You worry too much."
"Rebecca would pay a visit to someone almost every day," she softly said as she put her hat on.
"That's because Rebecca wanted to do that. Jane, you do understand I don't expect you to be Rebecca, don't you?"
No, she didn't. She assumed he fell in love with Rebecca because she made an ideal preacher's wife. When she stepped into Rebecca's shoes, she didn't know what to do, so she waited for him to tell her, and for the most part, he hadn't told her anything.
Sighing, he took the letter from her hand and pointed to it. "Just be the person Edith wrote to. That's all anyone has the right to expect. You were happy just a moment ago, and now you look like your world is falling apart. That's not what I want for you. I don't expect you to do what Rebecca did. You two are like night and day."
He handed her the letter so she took it back, her gaze falling to Edith's script.
"I don't know how else to say it. Just know that God made you the way you're supposed to be, and God doesn't make mistakes."
That made her feel better so she offered a smile and put the letter on the small table by the front door. "You're right."
Her heart was lighter as she walked with him to the church. During the service, she didn't worry so much about what to say to people afterward. She'd stand next to Jeremy like she did last week, and he'd do most of the talking for them both. And as long as he was fine with it, she wouldn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't.
Once the service ended, she made her way to his side and smiled at people as they talked to him. Marcy and Jonathan were one of the couples who came up to them, and Jane's stomach tensed even though she couldn't think of a good reason why it should. It wasn't like they were going to eat together.
"A good service, as always," Jonathan said. "Though a little better lately," he added with a smile in Jane's direction.
Jane relaxed at Jonathan's kind expression and turned to Marcy. "Where your daughter?"
"My mother took her outside for a bit. She was crying," Marcy said.
"Oh. Well, she was quiet through the service. You have a very well behaved little girl."
"Thank you."
Jane took a deep breath and glanced at Jonathan who continued to talk about how lucky Jeremy was to get as much cake as he did. Turning her attention back to Marcy, she said, "It's a beautiful day out, isn't it? I don't think we needed to wear coats."
"You're right. It is."
Jane was beginning to get frustrated with her. She was doing everything she could to come up with topics, but it didn't help when Marcy offered little in return. She couldn't remember if Marcy had been like that when Rebecca was around or not. Clearing her throat, she decided she'd do better to ask a question that required more than a yes or no answer. "So, what will you be doing for Thanksgiving?"
Marcy looked startled. "I have plans."
Jane blinked in surprise at her sharp reply.
Marcy laughed and fingered her hair. "What I mean is that my parents and Jonathan's parents will be coming to my home."
"That's wonderful," Jane slowly said, wondering why Marcy fidgeted. "I think it's wonderful when both sets of parents can get along with each other. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful day." And wasn't it just wonderful that Jane couldn't think of anything else to say but wonderful?
"Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer," Jonathan told Jeremy as he glanced at the few people who stood behind him in line. "Don't be a stranger, old friend." As he passed Jane, he smiled and softly said, "It's nice to see him happy again."
Jane smiled in return and said goodbye to him and Marcy. Too bad Jonathan wasn't a woman because she had a feeling she'd get along much better with him than she did with Marcy. After they left, Jane finally felt like she could breathe normally. Thankfully, the rest of the people who came up to greet her and Jeremy did most of the talking so Jane didn't have to struggle to figure out what to say, and she preferred it that way.
*** It was on Wednesday when Jane was picking up a turkey from the butcher when she overheard Marcy talking to one of her good friends. Marcy didn't know Jane heard her by the open window while she stood and waited for the three women in front of her to make their purchase. Jane tucked her shawl around her shoulders as she stared at nothing in particular.
Her thoughts, for the moment, were on the previous year when she and Rebecca came here. She and Jane helped to make the meal for the entire family—Will and his family, Aunt Fiona, and their mother. How different things were this year. Now it was just her and Jeremy. Without Rebecca, it seemed things had fallen apart. She wiped the tears from her eyes. She hoped Christmas wouldn't be as rough as Thanksgiving was turning out to be.
Someone said her name so she forced her mind off the past and glanced out the window. Marcy and Annie stopped while Annie's son tied his shoe. Jane moved out of their viewing range but kept her attention on them.
"I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on Jane," Marcy said. "She's trying, but…"
"But what?" Annie pressed.
She shrugged. "I don't know. It was easy to like Rebecca. I never really knew Jane and thought I'd like her well enough since she's Rebecca's sister. The two are so different. Rebecca was someone a person wanted to be around, but with Jane, it doesn't matter if she's there or not."
"You can't replace Rebecca."
"Yes, I know, and that's a shame. No matter how hard Jane tries, she'll never be like Rebecca. I wanted to like Jane. I really did, but she's boring. I feel sorry for the preacher. He's the one stuck with her. At least I only have to bear with her in church. He has to take her home."
Jane decided she'd heard enough so she walked away from the window and stood close to the counter where one of the three women paid for her order. She tried not to dwell on what she'd just heard, but her face flushed and tears filled her eyes. Hoping no one else noticed, she quickly brushed the tears away and opened her purse so she could collect the money she'd need to make her purchase.
Once the women left with their food, Jane stepped up to the butcher and swallowed the lump in her throat so she could speak. "Um…I'll take a turkey, please."
Her voice cracked, and she averted his gaze so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to give away her humiliation. While he had his back turned to her, she wiped her eyes and cheeks and told herself she could cry as much as she wanted as soon as she got home. She took a few deep breaths and focused on the butcher, noting everything he did as he prepared the turkey. It helped to distract her enough—something she was grateful for.
When he put the wrapped turkey in front of her and told her the price, she sorted through the coins but the door opened and she glanced over her shoulder to see if it was Marcy and Annie. To her relief, it wasn't. It was Gerdy who smiled and limped over to her.
"It's nice to see you, Jane," Gerdy said.
Was it? Or was it one of those things Gerdy had to say because it was rude to tell someone it didn't matter if they were there or not? Jane chastised herself for thinking ill of Gerdy. Gerdy had always been nice to her. She forced out a polite greeting and turned her attention back to the coins, not realizing her hands were shaking until one fell to the floor and rolled under the counter.
"Oh, I shouldn't have done that," Jane said. "Did it roll over to your side?" she asked the butcher.
While he bent down to check, she frantically searched through her coins and then her purse. She didn't have enough unless he retrieved the one that slipped out of her hand.
He stood up and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Graham. I can't reach it."
"Never mind that." Gerdy dug into her pocket and handed him the coin. "That's on me. Think of it as a thank you for all you do to make the preacher happy." She looked at the butcher. "Poor thing was miserable after Rebecca died, and now he's cheered right up."
Jane quickly placed the rest of the coins on the counter before she could drop anymore. "Thank you, Gerdy. I should pay you back."
Gerdy chuckled. "Didn't you hear anything I just said? It's a gift." She squeezed Jane's arm.
Despite her trembling lips, Jane managed a smile, said thank you again, and took the turkey. If she thought she could manage it without breaking down and crying, she would have helped Gerdy carry her purchase home. But now wasn't the time she could do more than keep the tears at bay, so she left and made sure Marcy wasn't anywhere in sight before she headed home. Chapter Eleven
When Jeremy got home from visiting one of the parishioners, he heard someone sniffling in the kitchen. Wondering if Jane had company since Rebecca had consoled a couple of women in the past, he went into the kitchen and saw Jane wiping her eyes with her sleeve while she stirred the batter that was in a bowl.
"Jane, what's wrong?" he asked.
She didn't glance his way but said, "Nothing."
"It's not nothing. Come on and talk to me." When she didn't reply, he walked over to her and placed a hand on her back. "It's alright. I'll listen."
Stepping away from him, she shrugged and muttered, "It doesn't matter. None of it matters."
"It does matter. I don't like it when you cry."
She shook her head as more tears trickled down her cheeks. "I have to get things ready for the Thanksgiving meal."
"The meal can wait, Jane."
"No, it can't!"
Surprised at the way she snapped at him, he remained still for a moment as he tried to decide on the best course of action. He couldn't recall a time when Jane purposely shut him out, and he didn't like it. "Jane, if something's bothering you, I want to know."
"Why?"
"Because I care about you."
Letting out a bitter laugh, she shook her head. "Just like others care about me? Don't bother, Jeremy. I don't need anyone to be nice to my face when they speak ill of me behind my back."
"What are you talking about? I've never spoken ill of you."
She didn't answer. Instead, she stirred the ingredients in the bowl while another tear slid down her cheek.
What was going on? She left the house happy and came back upset? Determined to break through her wall, he reached for her arm. "Will you stop stirring that and listen to me?"
Glaring at him, she motioned to the bowl. "Wouldn't you rather have your precious cake?"
"No."
"But it's what I'm good for. Making cake. Cake makes you happy. You couldn't say enough about it at Jonathan and Marcy's. Not that Marcy could be bothered to make an effort to talk to me, but what does any of it matter? Cake makes up for all my faults."
Irritated, he grabbed the bowl from her and dumped the contents into the sink. "There! I don't need cake! I was complimenting you because you've been nice to me. It's been a thoughtful gesture that you make them as much as you do, but I never meant to imply that I expect you to make cakes or that's all I think you're good at."
She glanced between him and the sink. "How could you do that?" Snatching the bowl from him, she banged it on the table and pointed to the sink. "Do you realize how wasteful that was? I watch everything I spend and use everything I purchase. And here you went and threw away ingredients I'll have to go back out and buy!"
He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just cake. It's not important!"
"No?"
"No! You never have to make me another cake again, alright? It's not worth it."
"That ought to make Marcy happy."
"What does Marcy have to do with this?"
She looked as if she was about to speak but then shook her head. "Forget it. Just forget it. I'll make the turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing—"
"Will you stop talking about food? Food can't be the reason that you're crying."
"I told you it doesn't matter! Now get out of here so I can cook in peace!"
Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and muttered, "Rebecca was never this difficult."
"What did you say?" she snapped.
Realizing his mistake, he shook his head and threw his hands in the air. "You're right. Let's forget it. It's pointless anyway."
He stormed out of the kitchen and headed for the den but she darted in front of him before he made it to the doorway. Placing her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him, her lips forming a thin line. "I can't help it if Rebecca was so wonderful that everyone loved her. It's really a shame she was the one who died instead of me."
The reminder of Rebecca's death made him go pale. "Leave Rebecca out of this."
"Why should I? You're the one who brought her up. You said she was never as difficult as I am."
"I didn't mean it. I was angry and—"
She stumped her foot on the ground and balled her fists at her sides. "If you didn't mean it, you wouldn't have said it! But why not say it? It's the truth. Everyone thinks so. Rebecca's the kind of woman everyone loved and wanted to be around, but it doesn't matter if I'm around or not. I'm boring. I'm not pretty or sweet like her. I simply exist."
Gritting his teeth, he waited for a long moment to speak so he wouldn't yell despite the fact that his body shook with rage. "That's not fair. You have no right to tell me I can't love Rebecca. I married her."
Tears filled her eyes again and her lower lip trembled.
Unsure of whether he was more frustrated or angry, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the house.
As soon as he made it down the path that led to town, he regretted what he said. If there was ever a time when he wished he could take the words back, this was it. He stopped and turned back toward the house, wondering if he should go back in and apologize now or let things calm down a bit first. Though he couldn't think of anything he said that upset Jane before, he could now.
He closed his eyes and prayed for guidance. He guessed five minutes passed before he decided he couldn't leave Jane on an unpleasant note. Even if he had no idea what he could do to repair the damage his words caused, he returned to the house, wondering if he should call out Jane's name or find her.
Finally, he opted to find her. She wasn't in the kitchen, and if she had been, he would've been surprised. He doubted any woman could cook after what just happened. The next place he checked was her bedroom, and sure enough, her door was shut.
Praying for help on how to approach her, he knocked on the door. "Jane, I'm sorry. I never should have compared you to Rebecca." When there was no answer, he sighed. He was still botching things up. "Will you please open the door so I can talk to you? I'm really am sorry. I was wrong. Can we talk?"
A minute passed before she opened the door. His relief was shortlived when he realized she had an open carpet bag sitting on the bed and a drawer open in the dresser.
"Are you leaving me?" he asked, his tone betraying how hurt the realization made him.
Despite the fact that she was still crying, she returned to the drawer and took out a couple of her shirtwaists. "I thought it might be best if I went to Omaha and lived with Edith and Wilbur."
Before she could put the clothing into her bag, he gently reached for her arms and pulled her toward him. "I'm sorry, Jane. I mean it. What I said was hurtful, and I wish I could take the words back."
She blinked back more tears and shook her head. "You only stated the truth. If Rebecca hadn't died, you'd still be married to her. You were supposed to love her."
"But that doesn't mean I'm not glad to be married to you."
Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied him.
"Look," he began with a sigh, "we know the circumstances regarding our marriage were different from when I married Rebecca, but Jane, I've always held you high esteem. When Rebecca died, you were the only one who made me feel better. You always seemed to know the right words to say to keep me going for one more day. Rebecca spoke so highly of you, and given the months you and I have been married, I agree with everything she said. She said if there was ever a person someone could depend on, it was you. She said when it felt like the whole world was falling in around her, you could say or do something to make her laugh. We were supposed to name our first child after you if we had a girl."
A few more tears slid down her cheeks and she glanced at the shirtwaists in her hands. "I loved her, too. There are times when I miss her so much it hurts."
He let go of her arms so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her while she continued to cry. Unable to think of anything to say, he swallowed the lump in his throat and let a couple tears of his own fall. It'd always been Jane who seemed to understand the depth of his sorrow, who never asked more from him than he was able to give, who sought out whatever she could do to help him.
When he could trust his voice to remain steady, he softly asked, "Besides what I said about you and Rebecca in the hallway, what did I say to upset you?"
Pulling away from him, she set the shirtwaists on the bed so she could grab her handkerchief off the bed. Wiping her eyes and nose, she said, "It wasn't you."
"But the cake—"
"It had nothing to do with the cake either. I overheard Marcy talking while I was at the butcher's, and she said she doesn't like me. She said I'm a bore and it didn't matter if I was around or not."
He watched her as she sniffed and picked up another handkerchief to wipe her eyes. Taking her by the shoulders, he steered her to a vacant part of the bed and sat next to her, holding her close and rubbing her back with one hand. "I sensed things didn't go well at the supper when we went to her house."
"I tried to engage her in conversation. The problem is that I never knew what to say to her. Rebecca was the one who did most of the talking, and I sat and listened to her. Marcy never did or said anything mean to me, but I was never comfortable with her."
"And for good reason."
"Then she made that comment about the cake and how she supposed it was good for some men."
"Oh." Now he understood the connection to the cake. "You don't have to make me a cake if you don't want to."
"I actually prefer cakes. I find them easier than pies and tarts."
"Then we do make a good fit because I'm not particularly fond of pies or tarts myself, though I could be persuaded to enjoy some cookies."
She chuckled.
Relieved the tension had finally ebbed, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Jane. I'm sorry for what I did and for what Marcy did. You don't deserve to be treated that way."
"I grew up being compared to Rebecca. Everyone talked about how sweet and pretty she was while I…" She shrugged. "I was her sister. That's how everyone thought of me. Sometimes I'd like be Jane instead of Rebecca's sister."
He winced. "I didn't realize how we were acting, especially me. I'm sorry." He knew he kept saying the words, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. She was right. When he married her, he thought he'd do it to help Rebecca's sister. Clearing his throat, he said, "You are a lovely woman, Jane, and it's time you were appreciated based on your own merits instead of someone else's." He glanced at her carpet bag. "Please don't leave me. I don't want to live without you."
She sat up straight and wiped her eyes again. "I didn't want to leave. I just didn't want to keep living in my sister's shadow. Sometimes I dream of leaving Lincoln altogether."
As she put her shirtwaists back in the drawer, he gave serious thought to what she said. He could see her point.
"Once I wash up, I'll be ready to return to the kitchen.'
Taking that as his cue to leave, he stood and stepped toward the door. He turned back and watched as she took her brush and mirror out of the carpet bag. "Thank you for staying."
She glanced at him and smiled, and in was in that instance, he knew everything was going to be alright. Feeling much better, he went to the kitchen to clean up the mess in the sink.
*** That Sunday as he gave the sermon, Jeremy's gaze kept drifting between Jane and Marcy. The two women sat on opposite ends of the church, and no one would know there was a problem. Jane looked as uncomfortable as usual—something he didn't know how to ease, though he suspected the fact that she sat alone a little further apart from everyone else had something to do with it. When she sat with her family, she'd looked at ease.
Having married him put her in an uncomfortable position, and that bothered him. Before, he knew she was shy, but now he realized it went deeper than that. She didn't feel like she belonged here. Without Rebecca or Edith there, Jane had nothing to hang onto for a sense of belonging. God knew Will and his family and her aunt Fiona were a sorry lot.
After the service ended, he went over to Jane who looked surprised. "I thought I'd come to you this time," he whispered.
He didn't know if it would help ease things for her, but he knew Rebecca and Edith made it a point to stay with her in public gatherings. Until he could find another church to take him, he decided he would do the same. It might not make her completely comfortable, but maybe it would help.
When the people came up to talk to him, he did what he could to involve Jane in the conversation. For the most part, he thought it went well. Among the people who approached them were Jonathan and Marcy. Jane's body stiffened and her voice tight, but she remained polite. He knew Marcy hadn't gotten along as well with Jane as she'd gotten along with Rebecca, which was why he didn't want to go to their house for another supper, but watching Marcy pretend she liked Jane annoyed him.
After enough people left, he saw that Jonathan was still talking to another parishioner and told Jane he would be back soon. Though there was a worried look in her eyes, he decided the sooner he dealt with Marcy, the better. As soon as Jonathan noticed him, Jeremy motioned to a place further out of the way where their conversation would be more private.
"What is it, Jeremy?" Jonathan asked.
Glancing around to make sure no one was within hearing distance, Jeremy said, "There's no use in beating around the bush. I don't think it's wise for our wives to feel they have to talk to each other because of our friendship."
After a long pause, he let out a long sigh. "I'm afraid you're right."
Whatever Marcy told Jonathan about Jane, Jeremy didn't care to know, and he was relieved when Jonathan didn't choose to elaborate.
"I like Jane for you," Jonathan said. "She's what you need." He glanced in Marcy's direction who was waiting for him with their baby and her mother. "I better go. I'll see you around."
Jeremy nodded and returned to Jane who stood awkwardly by one of the pews. Smiling at her, he said, "You won't have to talk to Marcy anymore."
She fidgeted from one foot to another. "Did you tell him what I overheard?"
"No. I just told him I didn't think it was a good idea if you and Marcy were in a situation where you had to talk to each other, so you won't have to talk to Marcy after each service anymore." He caught the look of relief on her face before he gently took her by the arm. "Let's go home, alright?"
Nodding, she left the church with him. Chapter Twelve
Two weeks later, Jeremy took a few pinecones and poinsettias, set them in the basket, and took them to Rebecca's grave. He brushed back the light covering of snow from her marker and stood up.
Clearing his throat, he said, "I know I haven't been by in over a week, but I've been looking into transferring to another church. Jane's not happy here. When you were alive and Edith was living here, she had people she could go to. Her brother and his family leave much to be desired, and I'm afraid you wouldn't like the way Marcy treated her. But worse than all of that is the tendency people have to compare you to her, and to be honest, they find her lacking."
He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.
"I hate to admit it, but I've also thought of her as your sister. I didn't find her lacking in any way. Naturally, she's not you. I married you because I loved you, and it was because of my love for you that I married Jane. That's not to say I don't enjoy being married to her because I do…"
His face flushed, and he suddenly wondered if he should be talking this way to his first wife. It almost seemed sacrilegious to speak so fondly of another woman, but it wasn't like what he had with Jane could be compared to what he had with Rebecca. And yet, he didn't know how to get that across to Rebecca without feeling as if he'd let her down.
Taking a deep breath, he ventured, "Jane's a good friend. Yes, she's now my wife and I'm happy with her, but you know you're first. You don't need to be alarmed that she'll step in your place."
He shifted from one foot to another and thought of how he might change the topic, for anything that came out of his mouth regarding his feelings to Jane didn't seem to work out to his satisfaction.
"Anyway, I've looked into moving to another church." There. That was a safe enough topic. "I think if people in a new town could get a chance to meet Jane without attaching her to you, then she might be happier. I know you'd want her to be happy. I didn't pay much attention before, but now that I see the way people seem to pass on by her without noticing her, except for Gerdy, I… well…I get angry. It's not right that she should be ignored."
Making circles in the snow with his shoe, he tried to think of what to say next. He couldn't recall a time when it'd been difficult to come up with something to tell Rebecca. Perhaps she wasn't pleased to learn he'd consider leaving her buried in Lincoln while he moved elsewhere.
"You do understand that this is best, don't you?"
He waited and then realized she couldn't answer him. He'd gotten so used to talking to her that he thought of her as standing before him, smiling and listening to everything he had to say.
"I know you're happy where you're at," he whispered, suddenly feeling she was a million miles away. It was a very disconcerting sensation, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. With an awkward chuckle, he said, "It never occurred to me how far apart we really are. That's silly, isn't it?"
His laughter died down, and he decided it was time to put her things away. He'd kept everything in their usual place in their bedroom, but he knew it was long overdue to change that. She wasn't coming back to him. One day, he'd go to her, but that day wasn't today and he saw no reason to keep putting off the inevitable.
"I still love you, Rebecca," he softly said. "I look forward to the day when we're together again."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he left the cemetery and strolled back to his house, not in any hurry to get there. As he passed the tree where he'd etched his and Rebecca's names, he wondered if someone might stumble upon it and know that two people named Jeremy and Rebecca had, at one time, started a life together. If they ventured to the cemetery, they'd discover what happened to her, and the absence of his marker would tell them he had to move on and continue living without her.
He debated going up to the tree and tracing their names but decided there was no point. It wouldn't bring her back. It didn't change the past, and a part of him was tired of living in the past. A new town might be what he needed as much as what Jane needed. Blinking back his tears, he passed the tree and kept walking.
When he opened the front door, the warmth in the home and smell of cake were comforting after being out in the cold for as long as he'd been. He called out a greeting to Jane who was cleaning the parlor and went to his bedroom. There was no sense in delaying this any longer.
He pulled open the drawers in his room and emptied the ones that contained her things. They wouldn't fit Jane, so it was pointless to ask if she wanted to wear any of Rebecca's clothes. Jane was thinner and taller, her breasts not as large but certainly enough to content any man who cared to caress them.
He stopped collecting Rebecca's chemises and bloomers and wondered why he'd been thinking of Jane in such a personal manner. Looking down at Rebecca's intimate apparel, he decided that was why—that it had nothing to do with anything else—and hurried to put her things into a box. Breathing a sigh of relief when he finished with all of her garments, he turned to items safer and collected her grooming supplies to put those in with the clothes. Last came the small drawer on the nightstand that used to be by her side of the bed.
When he pulled it out, he saw her necklace and wedding ring. Beside them were a fountain pen and the small journal she wrote in. Running his fingers over the leather cover, he allowed himself a moment of sorrow. This was the journal where she wrote down her dreams for the future. Whenever she made an entry, she would show it to him, and then she got sick and couldn't write anymore. In it, she had plans for making a garden and names of the children they would have together. He debated reading through her entries again but decided he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe in the future but not right now.
He went to the closet and pulled out a smaller box to put the journal, her pen, and jewelry in. He saw no reason to get rid of them. The other things he would, but not these. Once he placed the small box on the closet shelf, he shut it and returned to the large box. Unable to think of anything else to put in it, he sealed it up and carried it to the entryway where he set it on the floor.
Jane emerged from the parlor with a cloth in her hand. "Do you need me to take something into town?"
"I can do it," he said. "They're Rebecca's clothes. I thought someone might be able to wear them. Maybe the Lewis family could use them. They're not too well off, and I think their eldest daughter could fit them. I also added her grooming supplies."
Jane glanced at the box and frowned. "You're getting rid of Rebecca's things?"
"Not everything. I'm keeping her jewelry and journal. These other items won't do me or you any good."
She sighed. "You're right. I couldn't fit her clothes. It just makes it final."
"That's because it is. She's not coming back."
Jane blinked back some tears. "No, she's not."
He opened the front door and picked up the box. "I'll be back before supper."
She nodded and waited for him to walk over the threshold before she gave him a soft good bye and closed the door. In a mixture of sorrow and relief, he carried the box into the heart of town.
*** A week later, Jane set the train tickets aside on her dresser. Her excitement was too great. Even though she and Jeremy wouldn't leave for Omaha in another week, she had to do something to settle her nervous energy. It seemed like a lifetime since she'd seen her friend. As she was putting a dress in the carpet bag, Jeremy peered into her bedroom with raised eyebrows.
Chuckling, she said, "You have no need to worry. I'm not leaving you. I'm just packing for our trip."
He stepped into the room and lounged against the doorframe. "Good. It's nice being with you."
"I like being with you, too." She turned to her dresser and glanced at her undergarments. Hesitant, she glanced at him. "Maybe you should turn around."
"Why? Do you have deep, dark secret in there you'd rather I didn't know about?"
She giggled and shook her head. "No, but it's personal in nature."
"Really?"
She furrowed her eyebrows but smiled as she detected an unexpected enthusiasm in his tone. "It's nothing that will be of interest to you."
"How will you know unless I tell you?"
Her face grew warm, and she shut the drawer. "I'll pack later. I should attend to…to something or other instead."
"Something or other?" He laughed and stepped further into the room. "There's no need to be shy. I've been married before. I've seen female undergarments."
She was sure her face went from pink to bright red. "While that's true, you haven't seen mine."
"It's not like you're wearing them."
With a sigh, she shook her head. "I think I should do something else. There's no need to pack right now. We won't be going to the train station for another week anyway. Maybe I'll take a walk."
"Mind if I join you?"
"Really?"
"Sure. I finished preparing this week's sermon and no one needs to talk to me, so I have nothing to do."
"In that case, alright." Glad to have a change in conversation, she left the bedroom and went to the closet. As he helped her into her coat, she asked, "Would you like to pick up anything in town?"
"No. I think a walk further out of town would be nice for a change."
She buttoned her coat and slipped on her hat and gloves. "I don't remember ever going on a walk with you. You know, just to walk and enjoy the weather."
Shrugging into his coat, he smiled. "I don't often walk for pleasure. Usually, I have something to do."
"I find it's good to walk for pleasure. You'll be surprised by how much you notice when you take time to look around you. Why, the other day I saw two squirrels tucked away in a tree. I didn't even know there was a hole in it. It was sweet. Two squirrels were chasing each other and settled into the hole." She glanced at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go on and on about it."
"Don't be sorry. I like hearing about it."
"You do?"
"It's nice to know the squirrels were together. You're right. It is sweet."
As she walked to the door which he opened, she turned to him. "Things like that are what I notice when I go for walks. In the spring, I like to look at the flowers and smell them. You can also hear the birds chirping. Summer evenings are good for lightning bugs and crickets. Susie always thought the crickets were annoying, but I found them soothing. Fall, of course, is good for the changing colors."
"And winter?" he asked as she stepped outside the house. "What is winter good for?"
"The snow, especially the way it looks on the branches. Sometimes it's too cold to walk, but I take time to sit by the window and look outside to see what is going on."
He shut the door and strolled down the pathway with her. "Do you find much interesting in the winter besides snow?"
She shrugged and slipped her hands into her coat pockets. "If it weren't for the squirrels, I probably wouldn't be entertained as much as I am. So, what about you? Do you have any favorite part of the year?"
"I haven't paid much attention. The seasons come and go while I prepare my sermons and tend to the needs of the congregation." They reached the dirt road and he motioned the path they hadn't traveled before. "Let's go this way."
"But you've never gone this way, have you?" she asked, surprised.
"Which is why I should see what's down here. I'd like to see what it is I'm missing. You've been down here before, haven't you?"
"Yes."
Grinning, he took her by the arm and led her down the path. "Then you can show me what's up ahead. Were the squirrels and the tree up here?"
"As a matter of fact, they were."
"Do you think I'll get to see them?"
Noticing that he still had his hand on her arm, she cleared her throat. "Maybe."
"I hope I do."
Pleased he was taking an interest in things she enjoyed, she said, "I hope so, too."
And during their walk, he didn't remove his hand from her arm.
Chapter Thirteen
That Sunday morning before they went to church, Jeremy was helping Jane into her coat. "Would you like to go for a walk later on today?"
"How is the temperature?" she asked.
"Not bad. Chilly but doable. We can make it a quick walk."
She turned to him and smiled. "Alright." She turned her attention to buttoning the coat.
He blinked, surprised that her smile should affect him so. How many times had he seen her smile at him but not notice how attractive she was? Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did know she was pleasant to look at as a person. But he didn't realize how attractive she was as a woman. Clearing his throat, he softly said, "I like being with you, Jane."
She finished the last button and looked at him. "I like being with you, too."
Pleased, he turned to his coat and hat and put them on. As they walked to the church, he walked closer to her than necessary. He took time to notice things he'd taken for granted before, like the way the sunlight filtered through the tree branches and settled on Jane, making her especially beautiful. Before they rounded the bend in the path which would lead them to the church, he stopped her.
"Did you forget something?" she asked, glancing at the parsonage not too far from where they stood.
"Actually, I did."
He brushed her cheek with his fingers and leaned forward to kiss her. The kiss must have taken her by surprise, for she didn't respond right away. He brought his arms around her, pulled her close, and kissed her again. This time she returned his kiss, tentative at first but then warming up to him. When he ended the kiss, his lips turned up into a smile and she blushed.
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
Taking her by the arm, he led her the rest of the way to the church, content to enjoy the comfortable silence that settled between them.
During the service, he kept glancing Jane's way. He wasn't trying to look in her direction as often as he was, but he couldn't help it. He found he wanted to get lost in her eyes, and when she smiled at him, he felt as if he was the only person who mattered in her world.
After the service, they greeted people, and without Marcy approaching, Jane seemed to stay relaxed. As unfortunate as it was that Marcy couldn't appreciate Jane's strengths, it was better the two didn't feel obligated to put up a front where they get along when they didn't.
When they got home, she made hot chocolate like she'd been doing ever since the first snowfall. He'd gotten used to sitting next to her on the couch while they sipped their drinks by the fireplace. Their conversations ranged from lighthearted topics to things of a more serious nature, but on this particular day, he wasn't interested in talking. She rambled on about something. What that something was, he didn't know. He was too busy thinking of a way to suggest it might be time for her to move her things into his bedroom.
The opportunity didn't present itself as he would have liked, for he caught snippets of birds, their trip to Omaha, and some female item he made for Edith. None of what she said was conducive to talk of a more intimate nature, and after a half hour, he'd decided he had enough. He set his empty cup on the small table next to the couch and did the same with hers.
"I should take those into the kitchen," she said as she got ready to stand up.
"I'll get it," he insisted and took her hand to stop her.
She sat back down, and before she could come up with another topic to discuss, he reached out, cupped the side of her face, and kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm, and though he knew he'd caught her off guard, he kept his lips on hers until she relaxed. He inched closer to her so he could slip his arm around her waist and pull her toward him. Her breasts pressed nicely against his chest, and he stroked the back of her neck with his fingers.
She let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her enthusiasm for him didn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. He parted his lips and traced hers with his tongue. She paused for a second before opening her mouth for him, and he slid his tongue so he could brush her tongue. Deepening the kiss, he took his time in exploring her, enjoying everything he was learning.
His hand traveled from her neck and over her shoulder. Pulling away from her enough so that he could cup one of her breasts in his hand, he was rewarded with a slight gasp of pleasure and grinned. This was just the beginning of the things that they'd share together when they came in union as man and wife. He missed the emotional and physical connection this act provided.
His lips left her mouth and he gave her butterfly kisses down her jaw and to her neck. She shivered and tilted her head to the side so he could kiss more of her neck. He brushed his tongue gently against her skin, noting how pleasing she was to smell, to taste. His fingers caressed the curve of her breast and traced a circle over where he guessed her nipple to be. She sighed in contentment, so he suspected he guessed right and circled twice more before he searched for the buttons of her shirtwaist.
Bringing his mouth back to hers, he found her buttons and worked on undoing them, aware of the excitement pumping through this body, causing his erection to grow thicker. But he knew better than to rush things. For the time being, he'd keep his clothes on while he explored her and sought her pleasure. She ran her fingers through his hair as he finished with the buttons. He slid his hand under her shirtwaist and brought it back to her breast, noting her hardened nipple and brushed his thumb over it.
His arm held her against him while he continued his study of her breasts, moving from one to the other, trying to memorize how nicely they filled his palm. Eager to feel her bare flesh, he found the bottom of the chemise and slipped his hand under it and groaned. Her skin was soft and warm, and when he teased the pink tip of her nipple, she shuddered. Moving the chemise up, he gave her another kiss before he lowered his head so he could skim her nipple with his tongue.
Her hands left his hair and clasped his shoulders. Encouraged, he let his hand travel down to her skirt which he pulled up until he could reach under it, mindful to work past her petticoats. When his fingers brushed the area between her legs, she gasped and wiggled against him. He continued tease her with his tongue, enjoying the way she squirmed and moaned. Using more pressure, he rubbed the area between her legs, ensuring that when the time came, she'd be ready for his entry. He continued stroking her until she asked to take her clothes off.
He pulled away from her so he could remove her clothes with skilled fingers, careful not to rip anything but not wishing to give her time to think on what was about to happen in case she grew nervous and tensed up. Being her first time, it was bound to sting, but the more relaxed she was, the less uncomfortable it would be for her. With a quick look at the couch, he figured it wasn't the best place to consummate their marriage and taking her to bed might break the spell, so he rushed through setting out some pillows and two blankets—one blanket he urged her to lie down on and the other to cover themselves when they were done.
As she settled on the floor, he quickly removed all of his clothing except his underwear, knowing she'd be curious about his body but figuring it was best she not dwell on his erection and what it meant for what was about to come. He took a moment to skim her body before he joined her on the floor. Taking her in his arms, he resumed kissing her until he felt her relax against him once more. Shifting on his side, he wrapped one of her legs over his waist and traced the curve of her thigh and butt. He couldn't decide who was more worked up. Between her moans and his raspy breathing, he ventured they were both eager for what was to come, except she hadn't experienced it yet so she probably only had a vague notion in mind.
His hand slid down the curve of her butt until his fingers felt the moist folds of her woman's flesh. He fought the urge to rub his erection her lower abdomen. It was enough that it was snuggled there, but he didn't want to draw too much attention to it until she was ready to receive him. And so he slipped a finger into her body, and she shifted to take him in deeper. She felt wonderful. Silky, hot, and wet. If there was anything lovelier than a woman's body, he didn't know what it was. He slid another finger in her and judged how tight she was. She didn't seem too bad, but she needed some stretching before she'd be ready to receive him so he worked his fingers inside of her while he rubbed her sensitive nub with his thumb. Her body clenched around him and she moved her hips. He ventured another finger inside of her, noting the resistance at first but then she expanded for him.
She squirmed, and by the insistence in her moaning, she was getting close to her climax. He rolled her onto her back and yanked his underwear off, only half aware of her protests before he settled above her and slipped his fingers back to her. Leaning forward, his mouth settled on her breasts, so he could tease one nipple and then another. Meanwhile, he picked up from where he left off and stroked her core while rubbing her sensitive nub. Her protests were forgotten as she ran her hands over his shoulders and up to his hair and then back down again. He had no idea she would be so vocal in her enjoyment of the activity but found it increased his arousal all the more.
She grew tense, and he knew she was about to peak. He stopped kissing her breasts so he could watch her, fascinated and pleased as he watched her climax. He continued to lightly rub her nub while her body clenched and unclenched his fingers. Smiling, he waited for the intensity of her climax to subside before he removed his fingers and settled between her legs. Not wishing to give her too much time to think about what was going to happen, he kissed her, brushing kisses along her lips, her cheeks, and her jaw. She was relaxed beneath him, her fingers caressing his back.
He pressed his tip at her entrance and eased himself into her, gauging how tight she still was but thinking it wasn't too bad. He stopped kissing her so he could watch her as he fully entered her. Except for the slight wince and soft groan, she gave no indication to being uncomfortable. Her body had accepted him, her flesh giving him a light squeeze. He gave her another kiss before he moved slowly out and then back in, noting it was easier this time so he did it again. Soon he was moving inside her with ease, and he purposely held off on coming right away. He wanted to take his fill of her, to savor each stroke as she tightened her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper inside her.
She matched his rhythm, starting slow and going faster, and when he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, he cried out and released his seed, his body tingling and shuddering above her. After a long moment, he collapsed in her arms, and she held him tightly to her. Even through the fog of their physical union, he kissed her cheek and murmured, "Jane, you are so lovely."
Once he could move, he slid out of her and gathered the extra blanket before he collected her into his arms and put the blanket over them. With his heart still beating rapidly and his breathing ragged, he smiled as she snuggled up to him. He took her hand and placed it over his heart. Closing his eyes, he kissed the top of her head which rested on his shoulder and, without realizing it, fell softly into sleep.
Jane remained still for a long time, curled up against Jeremy. He was strong and warm. She never wanted to leave, and yet, she had to. As wonderful as it'd been to be kissed, held and touched by him, she couldn't help but wonder if he wished he'd been with Rebecca. More than anything, she'd like to think he wanted to make to her: Jane, not make love to a woman who happened to be his wife. But it was probably best if she didn't think about it.
She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he slept. Her fingers brushed his chest, noting the light scattering of hair on it. The blanket was draped halfway down his chest, and her face warmed as she thought of what it hid. She hadn't gotten a chance to see all of him. She chastised herself for even caring. It didn't seem like the kind of thing a lady ought to concern herself with, but that part of him had been inside her and even now, she was aware of how different she felt between her legs. It was the oddest sensation, really, but it wasn't bad. Definitely different. As if she'd just become aware that that part of her body existed. In some ways, it felt as if he was still inside of her—something she rather liked.
She couldn't sleep. The sudden change in their marriage had her wide awake, and she didn't see the point in lying down when there was work to be done. Besides, there was no point in taking the risk that he might wake up and be disappointed he was next to her instead of Rebecca. She made sure not to disturb him as she got up and collected her clothes. Once she washed up, she put on new undergarments and slipped her shirtwaist and skirt back on. Deciding to do dishes, she crept into the parlor to collect the cups. She stopped and stared at him for a good moment. She hadn't seen him as he slept before. He looked content. She wondered if that was how he always looked when he slept or if it was because of what they'd just done. Figuring he probably always looked that way, she went to the kitchen and set the cups in the sink.
As she got ready to wash dishes, she glanced out the window and caught sight of the two squirrels running across the ground. Patches of snow were melting, so the day was a good one to be outside. She tapped the edge of the sink and thought of what it might be like to see her child playing on a day such as this. Excitement welled up in her. It was now a possibility. If nothing else came from her time with Jeremy this afternoon, she might get a child and that made it worth it, regardless of the consequences.
While she washed the dishes, her mind went through possible names for a baby. For sure, she wouldn't name a child Will, Marcy, or Susie. She wondered if she should name the child after someone she knew or pick a new name. Of course, it was silly to think of names without asking Jeremy. Perhaps he had a name he fancied. She would agree to whatever name he wanted. That settled it. She'd wait until she found out if she was expecting and ask him if he had a name reserved.
If he didn't, then she could pick one. Well, two. One for a boy and another for a girl. So in case she did get to decide, she might as well think of some names ahead of time. And who knew? He probably didn't have a middle name in mind, so she could use her choice for that. By the time she finished washing the dishes and placing them on the rack to dry, she chose two possible names for each gender. Michael or Caleb for a boy and Vivian or Wilma for a girl.
She drained the sink and wiped the sink clean. Just when she hung the wet cloth on the edge of the sink, she heard footsteps from the parlor and took a deep breath to settle her nerves. Wiping her hands on her skirt, she turned as Jeremy entered the kitchen. He'd put his clothes back on, but the top two buttons of his shirt weren't done and he didn't wear a tie. His hair was also messed up from where her fingers had run through it. All of it was evidence of what they'd just done, and it frightened her as much as it excited her.
She forced a nervous smile. "Are you hungry? We haven't eaten anything since we got back from church."
His smile eased some of the butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to be close to him again so she took a step back as he approached and cleared her throat.
"Would you rather go for a walk?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her uncertainty. Was he wishing she was Rebecca? Did he prefer to forget what happened and go back to the arrangement they had before? Did they continue with what they started? She tapped her foot on the floor and quickly stopped.
"My arms feel empty without you," he said when he stood in front of her.
"Oh, I had to wash dishes. See?" She motioned to the dishes and almost knocked a plate over.
He caught it before it fell off the rack. With a chuckle, he set it back in place. "Yes, I see."
Folding her hands in front of her, she stepped aside so she wouldn't do anything else that might cause something to break. "I couldn't sleep, so I came in here to work."
"You can make something simple for supper. I'll even help if you want. It's my fault you weren't able to start sooner."
She laughed but it came out as awkward as she felt. "Don't be silly. I can handle a meal for one man. I used to cook a meal for my brother and his family, and before that I helped my mother and—"
"Jane?"
Unable to maintain eye contact, she straightened the cloth in the sink and stopped the urge to tap her foot again. "What?"
"You don't need to be nervous."
She gave another shaky laugh and shook her head. "I'm not nervous. I'm just…" She waved her hand, motioning to nothing in particular. "I'm just…"
"I know you didn't expect things to happen the way they did," he softly said.
Her laughter died down and she turned her attention back to the cloth, not sure she wanted to hear him say it was a mistake because that was exactly what she was afraid he'd say. He took another step toward her and she forced aside the urge to hurry off to her room. As she became aware of his masculine scent, her foot picked up on its tapping on the hardwood floor, and no amount of willpower was halting the annoying sound the echoed through the room.
"You're absolutely charming," he said with a grin.
"What?" Her eyes met his and she forgot her apprehension.
"I meant what I told you before we went to church. I like being with you. Not because of everything you do around here to cook and clean, though I admit you do a much better job than I ever did. Had it not been for the generosity of some people, I'd hate to think of how dirty things would have gotten or how thin I would've been."
She chuckled at his joke.
"You've made this house a home," he continued. "Some might say I rescued you from Micah when we got married, but you rescued me from the prison I'd built for myself. After your sister died, a part of me went with her. I went about my life and did what I had to do, but there was an aching loneliness that haunted me."
Her foot stilled and her shoulders relaxed while she waited for him to continue.
He shrugged and slipped one of his hands into his pocket. "You know I've always had the highest respect for you. I didn't marry you just to stop your brother from marrying you off to someone you didn't want to spend the rest of your life with. I wanted to be with you. You shared in my grief over losing Rebecca in a way no one else did. It seemed you were the only one who understood how much losing her hurt."
Her stomach twisted in knots but she nodded and turned her attention back to the lines on the cloth, absentmindedly tracing them with her fingers.
"I think you always understood me better than anyone else, and that includes Rebecca," he whispered.
She dared another look in his direction, not sure where he was going with this or if she wanted to hear it.
"I want to be your husband, and I want you to be my wife. I want to share my life with you, have children with you, grow old together, see our grandchildren, and when our time comes, I pray we can die in each other's arms so I don't have to go through this life without you."
He took her hand and pulled her toward him. Afraid she misunderstood him, she held back for a moment. But only for a moment, for she got a good look at his eyes and was assured he meant what he said. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the palm. A tingle ran straight from her head to her toes which curled in excitement.
Clearing her throat, she whispered, "I want that, too." He kissed her palm again and then moved his lips softly down her wrist. Since she'd rolled up her sleeves to wash the dishes, he continued to give her butterfly kisses on her bare arm. She had no idea that area of her body was so sensitive. When he reached the inside of her elbow and brushed his tongue over it, she nearly melted against him. Who knew something so simple could be so sensual?
When he turned his gaze to her, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Being so bold wasn't something she was ordinarily used to, but she couldn't help herself. He brought his arms around her and held her tightly to him. This time she was the one who brushed his lower lip with her tongue, and he opened her mouth to receive her.
It was a heady experience—this initiating of physical intimacy, and it made her feel powerful and weak all at once. He picked her up, and unlike before, she knew what he had in mind. She clung to him and kissed his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. Chapter Fourteen
Jane bounded up the steps of Edith's home in Omaha and called for Jeremy to hurry up.
He chuckled as he ascended the stairs, holding a carpet bag in each hand. "I don't think you're very excited to see your friend."
When she realized he was joking, she grinned and shifted the gifts to one arm so she could knock on the front door. "It seems like forever since I last saw her."
"I told you you're charming, didn't I?"
"Yes, several times." She blushed at his term of endearment for her. "This is going to be a wonderful Christmas."
"I can't argue with that."
The front door opened and Edith shrieked when she saw them. Jane stepped through the front door and hugged her friend as much as she could considering she carried the two gifts wrapped in plain brown paper in one arm.
Edith stepped back and motioned to the presents. "You didn't have to get us anything."
"We give each other gifts every year. What makes you think I wouldn't do it this time?" Jane teased.
Jeremy set the bags down and took off his hat. "It's nice to see you, Edith."
"Nice to see you, too," Edith replied.
Wilbur came out from the parlor and shook Jeremy's hand. "Glad you could make it. How was the weather on the way in to Omaha?"
"Good," Jeremy said.
"I suspected you might run into some snow with all those clouds out there." Wilbur pointed out the door before Edith shut it.
"It's not snowing yet. Everything was clear on our way in."
Edith walked over to Jane. "I'll take those and put them under the tree."
Jane followed Edith into the parlor to see how her friend had decorated the tree. "You did a lovely job." She touched the silver tinsel and smiled. "These are awful to keep untarnished. How do you do it?"
"Notice I don't put any candles on the tree?"
"Of course. Leave it to me to dismiss the obvious."
Edith set the gifts with the ones already beneath it wrapped in tissue paper. "Do you have a tree?"
"Not this year. Jeremy and I figured since we're here, there's no point in going through a big fuss to pretty up a tree. I see you decided to use red and white ribbon this year."
"I thought the colors stand out better against the green branches. I even bought glass ornaments this year. Wilbur's job has been a real godsend. I couldn't afford anything this fancy back in Lincoln."
"Though I miss you terribly, I'm happy for you." Jane's gaze went to Edith's stomach and she lowered her voice so the men wouldn't overhear. "I see you're starting to show."
Edith's smile grew wider and she patted her growing belly. "It didn't seem real until I felt the first kick."
"You did? What did it feel like?"
She shrugged. "It's hard to say. As strange as it sounds, I'd say it was like a bit of indigestion."
"Really?"
"I heard as things progress, it feels more like a baby is rumbling around inside there."
"Susie once said she had to lie down because her baby was poking her in the ribs, but that was as she got further along. Sometimes I think she made up some of the discomfort to get out of helping around the house." Jane often wondered how Susie managed without her there to do the brunt of the work but would quickly shove the thought aside. It wasn't her concern any more. She smiled at Edith and squeezed her hand. "Have you decided on a name?"
"Not yet. Wilbur and I can't agree on anything."
"Well, you still have plenty of time."
Edith glanced at the entryway so Jane looked too and saw that Jeremy was hanging up his coat and hat while Wilbur gabbed on about the snowfall they'd had in Omaha a week ago. Edith stepped closer to her and asked in a low voice, "Will you and Jeremy require different rooms?"
Sure her face turned beet red, Jane shook her head.
With a mischievous smile, Edith asked, "Do you have news to tell me regarding a little one on the way?"
"Not at the moment, but I hope to soon." Jane looked back at Jeremy and Wilbur who were still out of hearing distance, relieved when she saw they were. Turning her attention back to Edith, she bit her lip before she added, "He's wonderful, Edith. Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."
Squealing, Edith hugged her again. "I'm so happy for you, Jane."
Jane laughed. "Things worked out better than I hoped."
"If ask me, it's been a long time coming. Now, let's get those bags up to your room and then get refreshments ready for the men. Oops. We need to take your coat and hat off first. You'll have to forgive me for forgetting."
"Nonsense. There's nothing to forgive. There's a lot going on."
Once Jane slipped out of her coat and hat and followed Edith back to the entryway.
*** That night after they retired for the night, Jane rested in Jeremy's arms, her head on his chest and her arm draped over his waist. Her fingertips brushed the sheet as she tried to figure out how to broach a subject she wasn't sure he'd appreciate discussing. They hadn't talked about his real mother since that day of the potluck, and while a part of her thought perhaps it was good to let sleeping dogs lie, another part couldn't help but think being in Omaha might be a good opportunity.
"Is something on your mind?" he softly asked, rubbing her back in soothing motions.
After a moment's hesitation, she took a deep breath and said, "I was thinking of what you said, about your mother and being adopted." His hand stilled on her back, and she waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she pressed forward. "I thought since we're here, maybe we should see if we can find her."
He sighed. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it enough to make a decision either way."
"Since we're in Omaha, I thought it might be a good time. No one in Lincoln has to know you looked for her."
"It's doubtful she's even alive."
"But she could be."
"I was adopted thirty years ago. If she is alive, I'm sure she doesn't want to drag up the past."
She brought her hand up to his chest, and he surprised her by holding it. She worried that she was upsetting him by bringing up something so personal, but from the way he gently squeezed her hand, she knew she wasn't, which gave her courage to continue. "If I gave birth to a child and had to give him to another couple, I'd never forget. I'd wonder about him, and I'd like to see how he turned out. I can't imagine it would be an easy thing to let someone else raise your child."
"No, it's probably isn't. I understand she didn't have a choice. It's not like brothels are known for having nurseries."
"Do you know how she ended up in a brothel?"
She heard him swallow before he whispered, "No. All I know is that her name was Eliza and she was thirteen or fourteen when I was born."
She lifted her head so she could look at him. "She was young."
He glanced at her before he returned his gaze to the ceiling. "Too young to have a child. Too young to be in that business. Not that a woman should be there for any reason."
"I wonder what happened to her."
"My parents never found out. For all I know, she's still a prostitute, if she's even alive. I doubt prostitutes live that long."
Letting go of his hand, she caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. When he looked at her, she softly spoke. "Maybe not, but don't you think it's worth it to find out?"
"I don't know. What if she doesn't care? What if I'm one of many children she had other people adopt? What if she had enough children that she won't even remember having me?"
"I'm a woman, Jeremy. I may not know the details of her life, but a baby isn't something a woman forgets. For all of Susie's faults, she does love her children."
"I'll think about it."
Realizing that was as much as he could offer at the moment, she nodded and kissed him. She settled back into his arms and closed her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer to him. They didn't speak for the rest of the night, and at some point, she drifted off to sleep.
Jeremy sat on the porch after breakfast the next day. Despite the bitter chill in the air, he didn't button his coat or put on his gloves. He just sat and rubbed his fingers along the wooden arms of the chair. His eyes traveled the houses lining the street, and further down, he saw the businesses. Was it possible his mother was somewhere down there? And if she was, was it wise for him —a preacher—to enter an establishment that catered to the very thing his profession opposed? But did anyone besides Jane, Edith and Wilbur know he was a preacher? The chances that word would reach Lincoln that he'd been inside such an establishment was slim. And if he took Jane, it wouldn't look like he'd been cheating on his wife.
The front door opened, so he glanced over his shoulder and smiled as Jane walked over to him. Kneeling beside his chair, she placed a hand on his arm and asked, "Have you thought about seeing your mother?"
With another glance at the buildings that marked the downtown district of Omaha, he nodded. "It was my father's dying wish. I feel like I owe it to him."
She squeezed his arm and stood up. "I'll get my coat and go with you."
"Thank you."
He couldn't go alone. Maybe it made him weak, but he needed Jane with him. He eased out of the chair and buttoned his coat, realizing that his heart was pounding from his decision. He had no idea what to expect. His mother might be dead, and then worrying about it would be for nothing. But if she was alive… Taking a deep breath, he looked at the door where Jane was talking to Edith. Jane would be with him. Should his mother be alive, Jane might know the right words to say to ease the tension that would undoubtedly be in the room. He wondered when he developed such a dependence on Jane. She'd always had a gracious way with words, knowing the right ones to say to soothe a troubled soul. He didn't know what he'd do without her, and he prayed he'd never find out. Losing Rebecca had been hard enough.
Glancing up at the blue sky, he wondered if he'd somehow betrayed Rebecca by becoming so attached to her sister. The thought made him uneasy, and he'd purposely found reasons to avoid going to the cemetery. Would she fault him for not keeping his promise to her? On a cognitive level, the notion she'd be unhappy to know he moved on was ridiculous because she wasn't the type who would want someone to spend the rest of their life miserable. But he worried about it all the same, so he kept his thoughts occupied enough, leaving no time to think of the past. He looked back at Jane, thankful when he saw her stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind her. Good. When she was around, it was easy to push the troubling thoughts behind him.
Jane turned to him and smiled. "I think this will be a good thing, Jeremy."
He took her by the arm, comforted by the physical contact, and helped her down the slippery steps. "I suppose we start checking the brothels. My father didn't tell me which one she was at."
"Perhaps we might quietly explain the situation to someone who lives here and find out where such establishments are so we don't miss any."
"Yes, that might be best."
"Maybe we should check a store that sees a lot of customers. Some people talk and don't realize how much others hear what they say."
"It's a shame people insist on talking at all when it comes to unpleasant topics. Marcy doesn't bother you, does she?"
"Not really. It's awkward to pass her by. We manage a polite greeting, but that's about it. I'm sorry I'm not more like Rebecca. I've tried to be more like her. I don't know how she managed to charm so many. She had a real gift."
"I like you just the way you are, Jane." Thinking she might not believe it, he stopped her and waited for her to look at him before he continued, "I mean it. I wouldn't have you any other way. You're the better half of me."
Noting the slight blush on her cheeks, she looked away and said, "You're the better half of me, too."
"Ah, once again, you're charming without knowing it."
Smiling, he led her down the sidewalk, mindful to step aside to let her walk around the patches of snow. They entered the business district and she found a mercantile she motioned to.
"Let's see if the owner can tell us all the places we might go."
He indicated his agreement and followed her into the mercantile.
The bell above the door rang, and the owner, a man who looked to be in his midtwenties glanced up and smiled. "Can I help you find anything?"
Jane looked at Jeremy who scanned the store. It seemed vacant at the moment, thankfully. He gave a slight nod and walked with her to the counter. After he cleared his throat, he began in a low voice, "I received word that I'm adopted." Unsure of how to continue, he glanced at Jane.
"We're looking for his mother," she softly said. "The matter is personal because his mother was a part of an establishment known for entertaining men." She shot him a meaningful look, and the owner's eyes lit up with understanding. "We're passing through, you see, and aren't familiar with Omaha. We hoped you might tell us where such establishments are located?"
Jeremy's heart raced the whole time she spoke. This was it. Soon he'd either see his mother or know she was no longer alive.
"I can write down a list for you," the owner told her.
The front door opened, and Jeremy thanked God the man hadn't entered the store before then. He knew he wasn't doing anything wrong, but the thought that someone might know he was about to go into a place of ill repute was making him break out into a sweat.
"Hey, Pa," the owner said with a wave. "Ma sent you in here by yourself?"
The man shook his head with a wry grin. "You got a swell head ever since you bought this place from Lindon." He approached Jeremy and Jane. "Hi, name's Dave Larson."
Jeremy shook his hand and wondered if he should give his name since the man's son happened to be writing up a list of brothels for him. Finally, he decided the first name would be harmless enough and told it to him.
"Nice to meet you, Jeremy." He turned to Jane.
"Oh, Jane. My name is Jane," she said.
"I don't recall seeing you here before. Is there anything you need?" Dave asked.
"I got it, Pa," his son called out. "You go on and do your haphazard search for food. I'm sure Ma will be in soon enough to give you the list you forgot to bring in with you."
"That's not fair, Jacob," Dave said as he picked up a basket. "I used to manage just fine before I married her."
"So I heard." He winked at Jeremy and Jane as he wrote on the paper in front of him. "Before he married my ma, he lived on jerky."
Dave grimaced. "Not anymore. Anyway, if you two need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
Jeremy thanked him, suddenly realizing his hold on Jane's arm had tightened under the strain of being in an awkward situation. He immediately loosened his hold. It didn't have to be awkward. Neither Dave nor Jacob knew him or Jane, and they wouldn't know the name of the woman Jeremy and Jane were looking for so if word got out, then no one would be able to figure out the situation.
Dave headed off down to the back of the store where the staple items were on the shelves, so Jeremy turned his attention to Jacob who finished writing out the list and handed it to him. He counted the number of places his mother be at and sighed. This wasn't going to be a quick trip through town. Who knew one place could have so many—as Jane called them—establishments?
"Thank you," Jeremy said, motioning to the list.
"Anytime," Jacob replied.
Glad that part of the ordeal was over, he led Jane out of the store and exhaled. The chilly air felt good on his flushed face.
"It'll be fine, Jeremy," Jane told him. "No one back home will know."
He knew she was right, and he didn't have the feeling that Jacob was the type to tell anyone personal information like what they'd just shared with him. He said a quick prayer that they'd find out about his mother sooner rather than later and read the first establishment on the list. It seemed to be the one closest to them, so he took Jane by the elbow again and led her across the street.
As they neared the saloon up ahead, he realized his steps were slowing so he picked up his pace. When they reached the entrance, he hoped there wouldn't be anything inside that would
offend a lady's sensibilities and opened the door. A couple of men sat at the bar and another group played cards at a table. He fought the urge to close the door and hightail it right back to Edith's. He didn't know which was worse: the liquor or stale smell of smoke that hung heavy in the air.
At least there were no immodestly dressed women, and thinking one of those women could be his mother made his skin crawl. Reluctant, he let Jane go in before him and took off his hat. Ignoring the stares from a couple of the men who not only seemed to be sneering at him but ogling Jane, he pulled her closer to him and approached the bar where the bartender polished up the mugs.
"You two don't look like the kind of people who belong here," the bartender gruffly stated, his gaze sweeping them up and down. "The church is further down the street."
A couple men snorted.
"Actually," Jeremy began, "I'm looking for someone. I was told she might," he winced, "work here."
"What's the name?" he asked as he set down one mug and picked up another to polish.
"Eliza Nitsick."
"Don't you already have a woman?" one of the men called out.
"If you don't want 'er, I'll take 'er," another added, chuckling.
"She's my wife," Jeremy snapped and brought her up against his side, not caring if it was too close in public or not. If one of those greasy men so much as laid a hand on Jane, he'd introduce them to his fist. It was disgusting to think one of them might have been with his mother or might even be his father. He scanned the room and tried to estimate if any of them were old enough to have sired him. He didn't think so. Returning his attention to the bartender, he asked, "Does anyone by that name work here?"
The bartender put the other mug down and put his palm up. "I might recognize it."
Sighing, Jeremy let go of Jane and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"
"Eliza must be important to you."
Before Jeremy could make a retort, Jane smiled and said, "It's someone's dying wish. We can't disclose the full matter, but we have something important to tell her. We'll be happy to pay an amount you feel is fair."
The bartender glanced from Jeremy to Jane and shrugged. "I've heard of her. She used to work here. Damn fine prostitute she was, too. Made me a lot of money. I tell you when that preacher took her on out of here, I lost some notable clients who used to take her out to their places for entertainment purposes. We're talking wealthy men. You have a woman like that bringing in that kind of money and you don't forget her."
Jeremy didn't realize he'd made a fist until he noticed the paper was crumpled in his hand.
"Uh…" Jane rested a hand on his arm before she cleared her throat. "I'm not used to such talk, sir," she told the bartender.
At least he had the nerve to blush, Jeremy thought in irritation. He had no right to speak of Eliza that way, whether Jane was in the room or not.
"Sorry, ma'am," the bartender said. "We might get women in here, but they aren't ladies."
"You mentioned a preacher?" she asked, not seeming to be disturbed by anything he'd said.
"Right. It was a double 'p'. Preacher…" He drummed his fingers on the counter and then snapped his fingers. "Peters. PP. Preacher Peters."
"Do you happen to know where his church is?"
"Sorry, ma'am. I don't darken any churches."
"Well, thank you for what you told us. How much would like?"
"Hmm?"
She pointed to Jeremy's wallet. "For the information? How much should we pay?"
The bartended sighed. "It's on me. I can't take advantage of a lady."
"Thank you again." Jane offered an uncomfortable smile and turned.
Blinking, Jeremy hurried on out of there with her and didn't breathe until they were outside. That was the most difficult thing he'd ever been through, and there was no way he would've been able to maintain his calm with the way that bartender had talked about his mother.
"This is good news, Jeremy," Jane told him, looking excited. "A preacher took her on out of there. That means she didn't stay in this business. Maybe she got a new start in life. We have to find him."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded. "Right. We need to find out where Peters is."
"Do you want to go back to the mercantile and ask Jacob where he is?"
"No. We've bothered him enough. Let's find another store further down and ask someone else."
Slipping her arm around his, she took a step forward, and he joined her.
Chapter Fifteen Jane knocked on the preacher's door and offered a comforting smile to Jeremy. The poor man looked overwhelmed, and she supposed if it was learning about her mother, she would be, too. But she was greatly encouraged to learn they'd be talking to a man of God. This might be the best news they'd receive regarding Eliza.
When the door opened, a man with thinning and gray hair greeted them, and Jane figured she would do the speaking. "Hello. My husband and I were looking for Preacher Peters, and someone told us to come here. Did we get the right house?"
"You most certainly did." He moved aside and motioned for them to enter. "I'm Bill Peters." A woman with a full head of white hair emerged from the parlor and smiled at them. "This is my wife (look up name)."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Jane said. "We're Jeremy and Jane Graham. Jeremy is a preacher."
Jeremy shook Bill's hand, and she was glad to see that he was finally relaxing.
"Come on in and sit down," his wife said as she motioned to the parlor. "I'll bring out something to drink. Is coffee to your liking?"
"That will be fine," Jane replied. "I can help."
"Don't be silly. We have a pot ready."
While she went to the kitchen, Jeremy and Jane took off their coats and hats as Bill shut the door. Once they hung up their things, they sat on the couch and Bill sat across from them.
"So what brings you kids on by?" Bill asked.
She glanced at Jeremy to see if he wanted to explain the situation, and since he straightened up in a manner that indicated he was ready to speak, she folded her hands in her lap and let him do the talking, glad he felt comfortable enough to do so.
"I'm looking for a woman I recently discovered was my mother. When I was born, I was adopted because my mother was, for lack of a better term, a lady of ill repute." He cleared his throat. "I went to one of the saloons, and the bartender told me you knew her. Her name was Eliza Nitsick."
Bill nodded while his wife brought in the tray of coffee cups and the coffee pot which she set on the table in front of the table. "I did help a woman by the name Eliza. She didn't want to be there, but when a fourteenyearold girl is sold into prostitution, there's nothing she can do about it."
"She was sold into it?" Jeremy asked.
Jane accepted the cup of coffee his wife handed her and smiled her thanks.
"I don't know why she ended up there, and I didn't know she had a child. All I know is that she didn't want to be there, so I paid for her passage to South Dakota to work for my cousin. Last I heard, my cousin died, but Eliza stayed there and married a good man."
"That's wonderful," Jane inserted.
"I wish all stories ended as well as that one," Bill replied before he turned his gaze to Jeremy. "I'm sure being a preacher, you know they don't always have a happy ending."
"Yes, I know," Jeremy said.
"What was she like?" Jane wondered.
Bill smiled. "She was a nice woman."
"She had the gift of gab," Bill's wife said, handing Jeremy and Bill their cups. "Everyone at the church liked her. She had a way of making everything sound exciting. There are few people who come into your life like that, but when they do, you remember them."
"Some people let their misfortune make them bitter," Bill added. "Eliza refused to dwell on the past. That's how she survived as a prostitute for as long as she did. She was in that profession for eleven years. When someone told me about her, I went down to the saloon to talk to her, and she left that same night and never looked back."
"She was a sweet young woman," Bill's wife said before she sipped her coffee. "She didn't take anything for granted."
"She sounds lovely." Jane looked at Jeremy and tried to judge what he thought of everything he was learning.
Jeremy held the cup in his hands but didn't drink the coffee. "Is she still alive?"
"I don't know, but given her young age, I think so. She was twentyfive, if I remember right."
"I think that's right," his wife said. "Would you like us to tell you where we sent her?"
After a long moment where Jeremy stared into his cup, he finally nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would."
Excited, Jane sipped her coffee and tried to imagine what it'd be like to meet Eliza while Bill and his wife continued to tell them all they remembered about her.
A month later, Jane was sweeping the floor when someone knocked on the door. She quickly swept
the dirt to the corner of the kitchen and set the broom against the wall so she couldn't forget where the pile of dirt was. Wiping her hands on her skirt, she went to the door and opened it, surprised when she saw her brother holding his twomonthold baby. Hank and Irene were standing next to him.
"Hi there, Jane," Will said, giving her a smile that immediately made her suspicious of his motives for visiting her. "I thought you'd like to see your nephews and niece. I've been remiss to come over so you can meet little Alexander."
He held the baby out to her, so she took him in her arms. It felt good to hold a baby, even if it was Will's child.
"I see your marriage is going well," Will continued. "What with you expecting and all."
Considering she only found out she was expecting a child three days ago, she was surprised he already knew. "Word gets around fast."
"It's not like Lincoln is so big we can't keep up with what's going on with our family."
Forcing a smile, she moved aside and asked him to enter, only because she loved her nephews and niece and didn't want to punish them because she couldn't stand him. "Would you like a drink or a snack?"
Hank started to nod, but Will shook his head at him and smiled at her. "We don't want to impose on your generosity, Jane."
Her stomach twisted up into knots. She had a bad feeling about this. Since when did her brother refuse a snack? Her nephew squirmed in her arms, so she turned her gaze to him and couldn't help but adore him. This was what it would be like when she held her own child. As much as she wanted to enjoy the glimpse into the future her nephew was giving her, she couldn't. Not with the smile her brother had plastered on his face and the way his children sat next to him with their hands folded in their laps and sweet smiles on their faces.
With a sigh, she decided to ask the question she knew she would soon regret. "What is it, Will? Why are you here?"
He laughed and shrugged. "I came to see my sister. I also came so that my children could see their favorite aunt."
She chose not to remind him she was now their only aunt and cleared her throat as she reluctantly sat across from them. "You haven't stopped by before. I've been living here for four months."
"And your presence at our house was greatly missed."
"You were ready to…" She glanced at the children and stopped herself from finishing her bitter reply. Taking a deep breath, she cuddled her nephew and said, "You were quite eager to see me married at the time, as I recall."
"A mistake. I admit it. I'm sorry, Jane. But it is good you married Jeremy. Even if you weren't his first choice, things have worked out better than any of us anticipated."
She looked away from him so he wouldn't see how his words stung. It wasn't as if she harbored secret feelings for Jeremy when he courted Rebecca, but still…
He shifted and adjusted his tie. "I've seen him around town, here and there, and he's happy. And of course, you're with child, so…" He shifted again and chuckled. "Naturally, things are much better here than they would have been if you'd married Micah."
Gritting her teeth, she made direct eye contact with him. "We've established that things are much better for all parties since I became Jeremy's secondchoice wife. Will you please get on with the reason you're here?" Then she could go on with her life and try to forget this visit ever happened.
"Right." He patted Hank and Irene on the back and smiled. "I thought you might enjoy spending time with them again. They miss you terribly. You miss your aunt Jane, don't you?" he asked them.
Hank nodded and Irene said yes.
Jane had no doubt the children missed her, and she missed them as well, but she couldn't believe that was why her brother paid her a visit. "I miss you both, too," she carefully said before looked at her brother. "And what of you, Will? What's in it for you?"
He chuckled and motioned to the children. "Nothing's in it for me. I am doing fine." He paused and looked at Hank and Irene. "The children, however…"
Her spine stiffened. She knew right away what he was doing and hated him for it.
"It seems the fourwheel bicycle thing I invested in hasn't turned out exactly as I hoped."
"I could have told you that. Or did? I can't remember."
His eyes grew wide and he nudged the children who smiled wider at her. "You're right. You were right about Micah, and you were right about the bicycle idea. You bet I'll be listening to everything you have to say for now on."
"Oh?"
"Yes. From here on out, I'm going to be smart and do the right thing. No more foolish decisions. And as soon as I get my wages in two weeks, I'll be on firm financial footing again."
She gulped, knowing she was going to hate herself for what she was about to ask but needing to because of the children. "Firm financial footing?"
"It's nothing, Jane. Just a minor inconvenience. Susie will find a way to put food on the table. I'm sure there are some old staple items in a cupboard somewhere."
Her gaze fell to Hank and Irene who were staring at the floor. She had no idea if Will was telling her the truth or not, but she wouldn't be surprised if he squandered so much of his money that his family didn't have enough to eat. Hank's stomach rumbled, and something in her snapped.
"You will stop investing in your friends' business ventures," she demanded as she stood up and handed his son back to him. "I'm not going to help you out again."
He took his child and didn't reply.
Her cheeks flushing from a mixture of anger and humiliation at being used, she strode to the kitchen and grabbed the jar off the shelf so she could collect enough money to buy two weeks' worth of food. When she returned to the parlor, she said, "I'll pick out the things you'll need at the general store, and it's up to Susie to make the meals. My place is here now, so I won't be going over there to cook a single thing."
Looking relieved, he jumped up and nodded. "Yes. As you say, Jane."
Clutching the money in her hand, she sighed. "With the exception of one meal. The children will eat something here before we go to the store."
"Thank you, Jane," Will replied.
"Is he hungry?" she asked, motioning to the sleepy baby.
"No. Susie fed him before we left."
"Then you get in that rocking chair and soothe him to sleep while I feed Hank and Irene. I even have some cake they can have for a treat."
The children's faces lit up.
"We missed your cakes," Hank said with unbridled enthusiasm.
Smiling, she motioned for them to follow her into the kitchen. "I'll let you select the piece you want." Without another look in her brother's direction, she led them to the cake and proceeded to make their sandwiches while they cut out the pieces they wanted.
As Jeremy walked home from visiting a parishioner who'd asked for his advice on a family matter, he neared the cemetery, his steps slowing. He knew he should visit Rebecca's grave. He hadn't gone since before he and Jane went to Omaha, and the longer he put off going, the harder it was to do. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and traveled the path that would take him to her grave.
The basket he'd set out last time he'd been there made him wince. The flowers hung limp. He'd never let the flowers wilt before. He had to remind himself that Rebecca's body might be under the ground, but it didn't mean she was there. Glancing up at the sky, he wondered if she knew how long it'd been since he last came to pay his respects to her. He stared at her headstone, trying to decide what to tell her. Did he tell her he was happy? Did he tell her Jane was expecting a child? Did he tell her that he and Jane would be going to South Dakota once the temporary preacher arrived in two months?
At the sounds of footsteps, he turned and saw Jonathan and Marcy heading his way. Marcy held their daughter in her arms and was saying something to Jonathan who nodded. He considered leaving before they could see him, but Jonathan made eye contact and smiled. Knowing he was stuck, he stayed still and forced a smile in return.
"How are you doing?" Jonathan asked as they approached him.
Jeremy cleared his throat. "Not bad. And you?"
"We're fine," he replied.
"She's growing up fast," Jeremy said, motioning to their daughter who was cooing.
"Yes, it's amazing how fast little ones grow. I hear you'll be a father before the year is up."
"Yes."
Marcy shifted her baby from one arm to the other. "It's a shame Rebecca never got to have a child. She hoped for one, but I guess the Lord didn't see it fit to give her one."
"The Lord has His reasons, Marcy," Jonathan said, his tone firm but gentle.
"I suppose," she softly replied and turned her attention to the basket besides the headstone, and Jeremy immediately wished he had thought to toss it aside before she could see it. Her eyes met his and she frowned. "I remember coming out here and finding Rebecca's grave cared for. I should have brought something out."
Jeremy's face flushed in embarrassment.
"Marcy, that's enough," Jonathan muttered under his breath.
"I should bring out something nice, Jonathan," she said. "I've been negligent. She was my dearest friend in the entire world."
"Then do so next time you come here," he quietly told her. Turning to Jeremy, he smiled. "I hear you'll be taking a leave of absence."
Clearing his throat, Jeremy nodded. "For a month. The preacher who'll be taking my place is on his way to California."
"It might be good to get away, even if it's for a short time."
Jeremy's eyes shifted to Marcy who gave him a disapproving look before he returned his attention to Jonathan. "I think it'll be good for me and Jane. We'll get to see a part of the country we've never been to."
"Did I ever tell you that Marcy and I went out of state one time? It was to Texas to visit a relative."
Marcy shuddered. "Horrible cockroaches down there. I'll be glad if we never go back."
Jonathan chuckled. "One found its way on her pillow. I never heard a woman scream so loud. I thought someone was killing her."
"Oh, it wasn't that loud!" she admonished, bouncing her baby in her arms. "Those things are filthy."
"But they're better than a rattler."
She closed her eyes and shivered.
"Yes, well, I better go," Jeremy said. "I promised Jane I'd be…" He glanced at Marcy, noting the narrowing of her eyes, and decided it was best if he didn't finish his sentence.
"Give Jane our congratulations," Jonathan replied.
"I will, thank you."
As he turned to leave, he caught the slight shake of Marcy's head and decided to ignore it. His good mood was officially ruined. When he passed the tree where he'd etched his and Rebecca's names on their wedding day, he wasn't sure how he felt. Of course, he loved Rebecca, but a part of him couldn't help but feel it was too much for anyone to expect him to remain as devoted to her memory as he once was.
She died, and she wasn't coming back. Why should he remain stuck in the past? What was wrong with wanting to move on and find what joy there was to be had in this life? He did everything he could to keep Rebecca alive. He went out in the middle of the night to get the doctor. He stayed by her side and made sure she took her medicine. He fed her and gave her
water. He prayed for her. He did everything he could, and nothing saved her. It wasn't like he stood by and did nothing.
By the time he got home, he was fighting back tears. He was tired of crying, tired of trying to hold onto the past, tired of feeling guilty for wanting to enjoy life again. He stood by the front door and took several deep breaths to compose himself before he opened it.
"Jane?" he called out.
The house was quiet. He went to the kitchen and saw the note she'd left for him on the table telling him she went to the general store and would explain why when she returned. Unsure of whether he was relieved or disappointed, he set the note down and hung up his coat and hat.
The house was unbearably quiet. After Rebecca died, he got used to the silence, and most of the time, he welcomed it. But he didn't welcome it any more. He contemplated going to the general store but figured Jane might be on her way home, and if that was the case, she'd be home soon anyway so there was no point in leaving.
Standing by the closet, he closed the door and remained in place for a good three minutes. The only sound he heard was the ticking of the clock in the parlor, and he could swear it ticked in time with his heartbeat. He recalled bringing Rebecca home on their wedding day, the excitement he felt as their future lay before them. All the plans and hopes they'd had. How she fussed over decorating the house and how she enjoyed company. Often when he came home, someone would be visiting. There were times when Jane had come by to visit, and Jane would either come alone or bring Hank and Irene with her.
And Jane was the one who listened while Rebecca told her all about her plans for the day. He hadn't noticed how content Jane was to pursue activities alone than with others until he saw her without Rebecca. It seemed to him that Rebecca needed to be around people as much as Jane needed to be alone, which was why most of the people in the congregation didn't seem to care much for Jane. They misunderstood her quiet nature for indifference. Jane did care. She'd make things for people who needed them which she'd give them without them often knowing about it. If they knew how much she did without expecting anything in return, they wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her.
He rubbed his eyes and went to the kitchen so he could look out the window. She wasn't walking down the path toward their house. Sighing, he headed for the den. Maybe if he worked on the sermon for Sunday, he could make the time pass faster until Jane was back, and he wouldn't notice the horrible silence.
Funny he should notice the silence. When he was home, Rebecca talked. If she wasn't talking to him, she was talking to a visitor. Jane didn't talk often. She would talk to him if he was in the kitchen or the parlor, but she didn't bother him when he was in the den. Even so, he would hear her moving about the house, sometimes humming and sometimes talking to herself. He didn't know why he thought it was cute that she'd comment on something she was doing.
The last time he overheard her was when he was here in the den, and she was sewing a shirt for an older couple whose wife's arthritis had gotten so bad she couldn't do it anymore. "I can't believe I picked the wrong buttons," she'd said from the parlor. She'd groaned and fiddled with something before she said, "That's better."
The memory brought a smile to his lips. No, Jane wasn't Rebecca, but why should she be? Jane was perfectly wonderful on her own merits.
He sat at his desk, noting the way the chair scraped across the floor. He hoped Jane would be back soon. The house was empty without her. His life was empty without her. With a heavy sigh, he opened the Bible and gathered his papers to prepare his sermon.
Chapter Sixteen
Jane returned home, wondering if she made the right choice in helping her brother. For sure, she didn't want this to be a trend. He promised he'd stop spending money, and she prayed he meant it. Maybe knowing his children were hungry because he failed to provide for them was what he needed to see how destructive his spending habits were. She knew she'd have to tell Jeremy where most of the money in the jar went, and she wasn't looking forward to it. Most likely, he wouldn't be pleased. But she couldn't let the children go hungry, and she decided she'd stress that if he got upset with her.
She opened the door and stepped into the house. The scraping of a chair from the den notified her that Jeremy was home and she fought the urge to leave. Sooner or later, she'd have to face him, so it might as well be now. She shut the door and waited in the entryway. Bracing herself, she cleared her throat.
As soon as she saw him, she said, "I can explain about the money in the jar."
He walked up to her and kissed her. "What money?"
Surprised, she glanced at the kitchen where the jar sat on the shelf, depleted of money. The thought did occur to her that she could ignore the topic, but it was a temporary delay in the inevitable conversation they'd have. He'd notice the lost money, and he knew she didn't come home with anything. "I had to take some money from the jar. Two weeks' worth of groceries, to be exact." Before he could speak, she added, "But I had a good reason. My brother's children were hungry, and I couldn't let them stay that way. I could hear Hank's stomach growling from across the room. Now, I know this is my brother's fault, and he needs to be held accountable for what he did, but I can't see teaching him a lesson at the expense of the children. I didn't give him the money. I took it to the general store and bought the groceries to make sure he didn't do something foolish with it. If I handed it to him, you'd have a right to be upset, but since I didn't, then you don't. I used wise judgment in this situation, so you can't get mad at me. And no, I won't give them anything else. I made it clear to him that this was only happening once." She crossed her arms and waited for him to criticize her.
"Am I supposed to be mad at you?" he asked.
She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or baiting her, so she opted to choose the safest route. "No, you're not."
Sighing, he gave her a good look. "Did your brother get mad at you when you spent money in the past?"
"I didn't go over what was provided for me often. There were two times when I had to, and those were good reasons. I told him so, too."
"But he didn't believe you?"
"I'd rather not discuss it. It's in the past, and I'd like to keep it there." Stepping by him, she took off her hat and opened the closet door.
"I'd give you my opinion on your brother, but that's not the point of this discussion so I won't."
After she put her hat on the shelf, she eyed him warily. "Good."
He went over to her and helped her take off her coat. "I'm not your brother, Jane. I'm not going to get mad at you for spending money on food for our nephews and niece." As he hung her coat up, he continued, "We've been married for four months, and you still think you have to give me an account for every penny you spend. When are you going to learn you're free to do whatever you want with the money in that jar?"
She didn't know what to say, so she shrugged.
He closed the closet door and took her hand in his so he could kiss it. "If I should get mad about anything, it's that you never spend money on yourself."
Her skin tingled, and for the life of her, she couldn't remember what they were talking about or why she'd been so worried when she came home. He often had that effect on her. She'd be in the middle of talking about something, and all he had to do was touch or kiss her and she'd forget everything but him.
"I want you to spend something in that jar on yourself next time you go to the store," he said as he caressed the palm of her hand. "I don't care what it is as long as it's something you want."
"What?" She was certain he said something.
He pulled her into his arms and pressed his forehead to hers. Stroking her lower back, he asked, "Isn't there anything you want?"
She gulped. She hadn't been forward, not to the point of voicing what she wanted. "Uh… I like it when you kiss my neck."
He leaned back and laughed. "Haven't you heard anything I said?"
Her face flushed, she replied, "You asked me if there's something I wanted."
"Yes, but I was talking about buying something from the store."
"Oh." Now her face grew even warmer. "Oh! I thought you meant… Well, never mind. It's not important." Really, he had his hands all over her, and he expected her to think of buying something?
"Don't be embarrassed, Jane," he whispered. "I'd rather kiss your neck than have you leave me so you can run off and buy something."
She didn't think her skin could grow hotter, but it did. Pulling her close to him again, he kissed her neck and her toes tingled. Sighing, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him. She thought she might melt into his arms every time he held her.
"So you're not mad at me?" she murmured as his lips brushed the skin beneath her ear.
Chuckling, he whispered, "I love you, Jane."
"You do?" She thought to ask about Rebecca, but then thought better of it. Why would she want to remind him of her sister and ruin the mood?
"Yes, yes I do."
And then he was kissing her neck again, and she gave Rebecca and her brother no more thought. She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes, aware that her body was getting ready for greater physical intimacy with him. Lovemaking was quickly becoming her favorite pastime, something she often wondered if she should enjoy as much as she did. Her mother had referred to it as a marital duty, which was why Jane decided when she married Jeremy that she wouldn't deny him if he wanted to be with her that way. Not that she had an idea of what that way meant, but now she did and looked forward to it.
His lips traveled from her neck up to her jaw and then to her chin before he kissed her on the mouth, and she parted her lips so his tongue could brush hers. She clung to him, moaning when he lowered his hands and cupped her butt.
When he ended the kiss, he whispered, "Let's take this to the bedroom, hmm?"
Even though she thought it might be best to pause and pretend to think about it, she was so intoxicated by his kisses she didn't care if she seemed too eager for what was to come. She nodded and joined him, her hands betraying her since she had most of her shirt buttons undone by the time they reached the bedroom.
He looked down at her and grinned. "I see you're excited."
For what had to be the fourth time since she got home, she blushed again, and her hands paused on the last button of her shirt.
Taking her hands in his, he helped her with the last button and slipped the shirt off her shoulders. Kissing her, he said, "I like you excited, Jane. Be excited for me."
Pleased he wasn't disappointed in her, she worked on his buttons, loving the feel of his solid chest, so different from her own. He continued kissing her as he encouraged her to keep undressing him. Despite the uncertainty in what she was doing, for she hadn't been this forward with him before, her desire to touch his bare flesh prompted her to keep going. Once his upper body was free of his clothes, she ran her hands along the contours of his skin. She'd felt this part of him often and never tired of noting the differences between his chest and hers, liking his strength.
Today, she decided she would explore him further, so she unbuttoned his pants and let her hands slip lower. He let out a low groan, letting her know he enjoyed it, and this emboldened her to keep going. She went lower and traced his male hardness with her fingers. It was a fascinating thing to learn this part of him. Yes, it'd been inside of her and she'd taken peaks at it from time to time, but now she was ready to learn everything she could about it. While she wrapped her hand around it and noted the length and girth, he kissed her neck and caressed her breasts. She ran her thumb over his tip, delighted when he moaned, for it told her he liked that. She did it again and was rewarded with another groan.
He let go of her so he could remove the rest of his clothes, and she took off her clothes. When he led her to the bed, he pulled her on top of him and brought her hand back to his erection. "Don't stop, Jane."
Had she not been so aroused, she might have realized what she was doing and gotten embarrassed, but he closed his eyes and cupped her hand around him. Glad he wasn't watching her, she turned her gaze to his erection and took her time in learning him. He let go of her hand and massaged her back while she settled next to him. It gave her an odd feeling of power to know she could stroke him and have him squirm in pleasure. He'd often brought her pleasure through his touch, and it was nice to see she could do the same to him.
When she was satisfied, she straddled him and took him inside her. Noting that he had his eyes closed and a smile on his face, she grinned and leaned forward so she could kiss him. He brought his arms around her and returned her kiss. Their tongues intertwined for a minute before he moaned and moved his hips. Sitting up, she brought his hand to her sensitive nub, and rubbed his thumb in circular motions. She let out a soft sigh and shifted so he was deeper inside her.
She moved her hips, slow at first to build the tension in her body. She groaned, aware she was getting louder as her arousal increased, but not caring because it felt too good to stop. When she reached her peak, she stilled and cried out, her body clenching around him. Before she could come back down, he grabbed her hips and moved under her. He climaxed as her body began to relax, and the throbbing inside of her caused another ripple of pleasure to course through her. She opened her eyes and smiled. Their coming together didn't feel complete until he finished, but she was always glad he made sure she received her pleasure first.
When his body relaxed, she leaned forward and kissed him. He wrapped her in his arms once again. This time, their kisses were gentle, and neither one was in a hurry. After a couple of minutes, she got off of him and rested next to him. He brought her hand to his chest and held it. She smiled at his habit. It made her feel as if he was giving her a silent message that she was close to his heart.
She recalled how he'd told her he loved her. The reminder made her too excited to rest. She leaned up on her elbow and saw that he was already drifting off to sleep. Perhaps all men grew tired after making love, but she thought it was a peculiar thing he did. It was endearing, actually. Not wishing to disturb him, she brought the quilt over them and snuggled back into his arms. She might not be able to fall asleep, but she would enjoy remembering how he told her he loved her.
Chapter Seventeen Two months later, Jane took Jeremy's hand and squeezed it. There was a lot of uncertainty involved in going to South Dakota, and as the train neared Sioux Falls, she noted the rising tension in his body.
"I should have written her first," he said.
"But we didn't have an address." She smiled and shifted in her seat so that she could get a better look at him. "Everything will be fine."
"There's no telling if she's even alive. We may have wasted a trip."
"It was lovely to see the country, so it wasn't a waste. Plus, it's been nice to have you all to myself." Noting his smile, she grinned. "I liked learning more about you."
Looking at her, he said, "I liked more about you, too. You're right. If nothing else, it was good to have time alone." With a quick scan of the full train car, he shrugged, "Almost."
"I hope your mother's alive. It'd be wonderful for her to see how well you turned out." He didn't answer, so she added, "You did turn out wonderfully, Jeremy. If you were my son, I'd be proud of you. When I think of what Bill Peters said about her and how much she wanted a better life, it breaks my heart. I hope she got the life she wanted. I'd love to go there and find she's happy."
"I wouldn't have taken you for a dreamer."
"I don't consider myself a dreamer," she protested with a chuckle.
"True. You often have both feet on the ground, but I think in your heart, you like to believe the best in all things."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. I like it. It's refreshing." He squeezed her hand. "I hope that part of you never changes."
"I have a feeling that everything's going to work out," she whispered. "I can't explain why. I just do."
"I'm glad you're with me. I don't know what to expect, but I hope you're right."
"You worry she won't like seeing you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll remind her of that time in her life she'd rather forget."
"No. From the way you said your father spoke about her, it sounded like it broke her heart to let you go." The train slowed, so she glanced out the window and saw they were in Sioux Falls. "I suppose this is our stop."
Clearing his throat, he nodded. The train came to a stop, and he grabbed their carpet bags before they departed the train. The station was bustling with activity, so she slipped her arm around his as they made their way through the crowd. Once they got outside, she let go of his arm and took in the activity of the area.
"The first thing we should do is find a hotel," he said. "Then we'll get something to eat. After that, we'll look into getting a stage coach. How are you feeling?"
"A little tired, but I'm doing well."
"We can rest a bit before we eat." He motioned down the street. "That looks like a good spot to spend the night."
Chapter Eighteen
Two months later, Jane took Jeremy's hand and squeezed it. There was a lot of uncertainty involved in going to South Dakota, and as the train neared Sioux Falls, she noted the rising tension in his body.
"I should have written her first," he said. She smiled and shifted in her seat so that she could get a better look at him. "Everything will be fine." "There's no telling if she's even alive. We may have wasted a trip." "It was lovely to see the country, so it wasn't a waste. Plus, it's been nice to have you all to myself." Noting his smile, she grinned. "I liked learning more about you." Looking at her, he said, "I liked more about you, too. You're right. If nothing else, it was good to have time alone." With a quick scan of the full train car, he shrugged, "Almost." "I hope your mother's alive. It'd be wonderful for her to see how well you turned out." He didn't answer, so she added, "You did turn out wonderfully, Jeremy. If you were my son, I'd be proud of you. When I think of what Bill Peters said about her and how much she wanted a better life, it breaks my heart. I hope she got the life she wanted. I'd love to go there and find she's happy." "I wouldn't have taken you for a dreamer." "I don't consider myself a dreamer," she protested with a chuckle. "True. You often have both feet on the ground, but I think in your heart, you like to believe the best in all things." "And what's wrong with that?" "Nothing. I like it. It's refreshing." He squeezed her hand. "I hope that part of you never changes." "I have a feeling that everything's going to work out," she whispered. "I can't explain why. I just do." "I'm glad you're with me. I don't know what to expect, but I hope you're right." "You worry she won't like seeing you?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll remind her of that time in her life she'd rather forget." "No. From the way you said your father spoke about her, it sounded like it broke her heart to let you go." The train slowed, so she glanced out the window and saw they were in Sioux Falls. "I suppose this is our stop." Clearing his throat, he nodded. The train came to a stop, and he grabbed their carpet bags before they departed the train. The station was bustling with activity, so she slipped her arm around his as they made their way through the crowd. Once they got outside, she let go of his arm and took in the activity of the area as she buttoned her coat. "The first thing we should do is find a hotel," he said. "Then we'll get something to eat. After that, we'll look into getting a stage coach. How are you feeling?" "A little tired, but I'm doing well." "We can rest a bit before we eat." He motioned down the street. "That looks like a good spot to spend the night." Nodding, she walked with him through the hustle and bustle of Sioux Falls as people went about their business. If she'd been alone, this would be a terrifying experience, but since she was with Jeremy, she embraced the adventure that this trip brought. Once they reached the hotel, they checked into their room and he set the carpetbags on the floor. She glanced at him as she took her hat off. As brave as he tried to appear, she recognized his apprehension. Perhaps nothing she could say reassured him. He'd have to see his mother and find out what Jane already knew in her heart, which was that a mother couldn't help but love her child. Even Susie, for all her faults, loved her children. He put his hat on the small dresser and took off his shoes before he settled on the bed. Placing her hat next to his, she joined him on the bed, content to snuggle up to him. Wrapping her in his arms, he said, "It feels good to lie down after all that sitting." She chuckled. "It does." After a long moment of silence passed between them, he whispered, "You'll stay with me when I see her, won't you?"
"Of course, I will, and when you want me to leave you two alone, I will." He squeezed her shoulders. "Thank you." ***
The next cloudy day brought them to the town Preacher Peters led them to. Jeremy stepped out of the stagecoach and helped Jane down before he turned to the driver and paid him. Collecting the two carpetbags, he took a deep breath and scanned the small town. It was an odd feeling—standing on the quiet dusty road while several people shot him and Jane quizzical glances. His gaze fell to the women, wondering if one of them might be his mother. He recalled Peters saying his mother had red hair, and since none of the women did, he knew she wasn't any of them. Taking a deep breath, he noted Jane's encouraging smile and walked with her toward the general store. He wasn't sure why that seemed to be the place to start, except the driver had stopped right in front of the small building settled in the middle of the business district. Here goes nothing, he thought as he followed Jane into the store. A man from behind the counter stopped sorting through the money in his cash register and smiled at them. "Afternoon. Name's Frank Garrison. Are you looking to move here or just paying a visit?" Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but realized there was a lump in his throat. After he cleared it, he said, "Actually, my wife and I wondered about someone who might live in this town. We don't have an address. I'm afraid all we have is her name." "We know everyone here," Frank replied. "What's the name?" "Eliza Nitsick." Frank's eyebrows furrowed. "We don't know anyone with the last name Nitsick, but we do have a woman named Eliza. Before she married John Evans, she was Eliza Sweet." Jeremy didn't know whether he was relieved or disappointed. There didn't seem to be any reason to believe that they were talking about the same Eliza. A woman came out from the back of the store carrying a box full of stable food and set it on the counter. Frank turned to her. "Addy, before she married John, Eliza's last name was Sweet, wasn't it?" "My, I haven't heard that last name in the longest time," she said with a chuckle. Brushing a stray strand of hair back from her eyes, she looked over at Jeremy, her eyes growing wide and the laughter dying. "You're here to see someone named Eliza?" "Yes, ma'am," Jeremy replied, grateful that Jane offered him an encouraging smile. "But the Eliza's he's looking for has the last name Nitsick," Frank told Addy. "Eliza didn't remember her real last name, Frank." With a wide smile, she nudged Frank in the arm. "Doesn't he look like the Eliza we know?" "Does he?" Frank asked, turning his eyes to Jeremy. Uncomfortable with the couple's scrutiny, Jeremy shifted from one foot to another. He didn't want to say the Eliza they knew might be his mother, but he suspected that's what Addy was getting at. Addy hurried over to Jeremy and Jane. "Eliza is my dearest friend, and she confided to me that she doesn't remember her last name, so she made up the name Sweet." She chuckled. "She was put on the spot when she first got here and saw a package of sugar. That's why she called herself Eliza Sweet." "That is funny," Jane said, laughing. The knots in Jeremy's stomach tightened, but he forced himself to smile in hopes they didn't detect his unease. "I can take you out to her place," Addy offered. "If she's not the right person,
I can bring you back, too." Jeremy glanced from an excited Addy to Frank who was still inspecting him before he turned his eyes to Jane. "We should find a hotel first, I think." Jane nodded and looked at Addy. "Is there a place for lodging?" "Oh, you're welcome to stay with us if you wish," Addy replied. "We have a spare bedroom that no one uses." "While I appreciate the offer," Jeremy began, "but I'd feel more comfortable in a hotel." So much of this was happening too fast. He needed a quiet place to process everything. "I understand," Addy said. "We don't have a hotel, as you call it, but we do have a boarding house. I can take you there. Molly Richie currently has a room that's vacant. After we get you settled, I'll take you out to see Eliza. Then we'll know for sure if she's the one you came for. Let me get my coat, and we'll head on over to Molly's first." She hurried to the room in the back. Jeremy gave Frank a nod. "Thank you." "Think nothing of it," Frank replied with a twinkle in his eye. "She's been itching to visit Eliza for the last couple weeks." Addy returned from the front of the store, said goodbye to Frank, and started asking Jane where they came from and how long they planned to stay. He was only half aware of what Jane said. His gaze kept darting to all the women lingering around outside. Could one of them be his mother? He glanced at Addy who continued to talk to Jane. If Eliza was outside, Addy would make it a point to stop on her way to Molly's boarding house, but she kept walking so he knew none of them could be Eliza. Once they reached Molly's front door, Addy knocked and then opened it. "Molly?" she called out as she entered the house. Since she waved for Jeremy and Jane to join her, they did. She shut the door. "Molly?" "In the kitchen, Addy!" They went to the kitchen where Molly was rolling dough out on her work table. When she saw them, she put the rolling pin aside and wiped her hands on her apron. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you brought someone with you." "This is…" Addy's eyes widened. "Oh, how silly of me! I forgot to introduce myself. Forgive me. I got so excited because… Well, never mind. I'm Addy Garrison. My husband, Frank, owns the general store. This is Molly Richie." "We're Jeremy and Jane Graham," Jane replied. Why Addy squealed and clapped her hands, Jeremy didn't understand why she was so enthusiastic about learning their names. She and Molly shared a knowing look, and she squealed again. "Eliza's going to be so happy to see you!" He frowned and checked to see what Jane thought of this unexpected situation. Jane gave a slight shrug but kept a smile on her face. "You look a lot like Eliza," Addy told him. "Her hair is red and yours is brown, but you have the same features on your face. She told me about her son that she couldn't raise, and she said a couple with the last name Graham adopted him. You're the right age." He felt some of the tension leave his body. "She told you about me?" "You've been on her mind all this time. She prays for you every day and keeps a picture of you over her fireplace." "She has a picture of me?" "A picture of you when you were a baby. The Grahams sent it to her shortly after they took you home with them." He glanced at Molly. "Does everyone know about me?" "It's a small town," Addy replied. Releasing his breath, he wondered if that was a good thing or not. Did they know the circumstances surrounding his birth? And if so, why weren't they shunning him for being a bastard? Molly stepped forward and motioned to the kitchen door. "You can stay for as long as you need. Any kin of Eliza's is welcome here."
Surprised, he joined the other women as they left the kitchen and went up the stairs. On their way, they passed one of the boarders, exchanged a quick greeting, and continued down a narrow hallway. Molly rambled on about the rules in the house, and when the topic of the Saturday evening bath came up, his attention shifted to Jane. "You have a temporary preacher?" Jane asked. "To fill in until one can come here to stay," Molly replied. "The one we had went to be with the Lord." "Jeremy's a preacher." Addy and Molly stopped at a closed door and exchanged excited looks. "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone upstairs is behind this," Molly told Addy as she opened the door. "There are no coincidences, Molly," Addy replied. Molly pointed to the room and moved aside so Jeremy could put the bags on the floor by the bed. "I want you to think of this as your home during your stay." "You have a lovely view of the town," Jane commented as she peered out the window. "This is one of the best rooms in the house. You can leave the curtains open without the sun coming directly into the room," Molly said. "I need to get back to making biscuits. It's so nice to meet you two." She gave Jane a hug and smiled at Jeremy. "Eliza's going to be so happy." After she left the room, Jane turned to him. "Would you like to see her now or rest for a bit first?" Encouraged by the fact that his mother seemed to care for him after all, he said, "I suppose now is as good a time as any." Addy clasped her hands over her heart. "I can't wait to see Eliza's face when she sees you. You'll make her so happy." He hoped that would be the case but held off on being too optimistic in case he was disappointed. Regardless of what happened, Jane would be with him, and that gave him strength to proceed. He took Jane by the arm, knowing it was more for his benefit than for hers that he touch her, and walked out of the room to meet the woman who gave him life.
Chapter Nineteen
In a trip that seemed much too short to Jeremy, they arrived at a house located outside of town. Addy pulled her buckboard to a stop and pointed to the other house further down the property. "Brian and Lucy live there with their little girl, Charlotte. John and Eliza adopted Brian. They found him walking in the fields when his father abandoned him." From beside Jeremy, Jane gasped. "His father abandoned him?" Addy knocked and set the brake. "Probably because he was blind. Some people don't want to take care of children with a handicap. I don't know the details of that one, and it's none of my business so I don't ask." She shook her head and sighed. "I'll never forget how scared he looked." "That's awful. How is he doing now?" "Much better, thankfully. He and John make furniture over in that work shed." Jeremy noted the building Addy pointed to before he removed the blanket over their legs. After he hopped down from the buckboard, he helped Jane and Addy down. As Addy led the way to the front door, he looked at Jane. "It's silly that I should be nervous," he softly told her. With an understanding smile, she slipped her gloved arm through his. "It'd be silly if you weren't." "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, not sure if she heard him or not. When they reached the closed door, Addy said, "This is their kitchen door. I
know there's a front door, but they rarely ever use it." She knocked on the door and clasped her hands again. He took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his racing heart. Well, this was it. Soon enough, he'd know if the trip had been worth it or not. Jane squeezed his arm, and he silently thanked her. The door opened, and from the way Addy described her, he knew it was Eliza. Her hair still red, but with a few grays, was pulled back into a braid. Her lips were turned up into a smile, and from the laughter inside the house, the people she was with were having a good conversation. He studied her face, trying to determine if they looked alike, as Addy claimed, but he couldn't tell if he did or not. He glanced at Jane whose eyes had widened, and he had no idea what she was thinking. "Afternoon, Addy," Eliza said before her attention turned from Jane to Jeremy. For a moment, her smile faltered. She blinked and swallowed. "Uh…hello." Her smile returned, though it seemed forced. "Will you come in?" She held the door open and moved aside. Jeremy wasn't sure if he wanted to go in. Something about him unnerved her, and he wondered if Addy's claim that Eliza would be happy was wrong. The only reason he followed Addy and Jane into the house was because Jane squeezed his arm again. With uncertain steps, he entered the house and stood close to Jane. The little girl with golden wavy hair ran over to the kitchen table where a young blonde woman who was beginning to show in her pregnancy put the child in her lap. The woman saw Jeremy and let out a slight gasp. The blond man sitting next to her stared seemed to stare through Jeremy and Jane, though his eyebrows furrowed when the woman gasped. Across the table from them, a man close to Eliza's age stood and walked over to Addy and Eliza, his eyes drifting from Eliza to Jeremy. Jeremy shifted from one foot to the other, not sure what to say. He should have understood that thing would be awkward. He hadn't given anyone time to prepare for his coming, and by the way they stared at him, he knew he had to be Eliza's son. They kept looking from her to him, and as he accessed her face, he caught the similarities. The only thing he didn't have was her forehead or chin, but there was no doubt she was his real mother. Eliza pressed her hand over her mouth and let out a startled cry that made Jeremy take a step back. Of all his years being a preacher and having to talk people through difficult situations, he had no idea what to say. Addy cleared her throat. "This is Jeremy and Jane Graham. They came all the way from Lincoln, Nebraska. Jeremy and Jane, this is Eliza and her husband John Evans. Over there is Lucy and Brian with their little girl, Charlotte." As in on cue, Lucy and Brian stood. Lucy carried the girl in her arms. Not knowing what else to do, Jeremy shook the men's hands and nodded a greeting to Lucy. He had a hard time looking at his mother since she couldn't seem to stop staring at him with tears in her eyes. John put his arms around her and patted her back. Beside him, Jane took a deep breath and told Eliza, "We probably should have sent a letter before we came. We didn't even know Jeremy was adopted until his father joined the Lord a few months ago. On his deathbed, he told Jeremy about you. From there, we went to Omaha and met up with a preacher by the name Bill Peters who told us he sent you here. We weren't sure if you were here or still alive, but we thought we'd come anyway and…and…" Eliza stepped up to Jeremy and brushed the tears from her eyes, but it did no good since she cried harder. "I never thought I'd see you. I long ago gave up on every running into her by chance, but here you are and the Grahams took such good care of you, just as I knew they would." She did love him. She didn't have to say the words. The tenderness in her tone and care in her eyes spoke for her. She hadn't forgotten him. When she hugged him, he wrapped his arms around her, swallowing the lump in his throat. He hadn't been sure if he would be glad he and Jane made the trip, but now he was. Eliza pulled away and laughed even as she wiped away more tears. "This is your wife?" "Yes," he replied and turned to Jane. "She's my better half." As an afterthought, he added, "She's expecting." "You are?" Eliza asked her as she hugged her. Jane smiled and brushed away her own tears. "Yes. The baby will be here in September." "I can't believe it." Eliza looked from Jane to Jeremy and laughed again. "I
just can't believe it." "I thought you'd be happy," Addy told her. "It was a shock to be sure, but a good one. Did you have any brothers or sisters while growing up?" Eliza asked Jeremy. "No. My parents couldn't have any children," he replied. "Well, now you have a brother," Eliza said. "Brian is my son. John and I adopted him when he was eight. He's been married to Lucy almost four years now, and their daughter just turned three and they're expecting another child in August. Isn't it wonderful that you'll be having children so close together?" "It is," Jane replied with a smile in Lucy's direction. Lucy walked over to Jane. "Congratulations. Do you have any names picked out?" Jane glanced at Jeremy and smiled. "We haven't discussed names yet. Part of it doesn't seem real yet." "I remember that feeling," Lucy replied. "Would you like to sit in the parlor and talk?" Jane looked at Jeremy, and understanding her hesitation, he nodded an encouragement for her to go. John motioned to Eliza who said, "Oh, we should take your coats. Then we can get settled and make up for lost time." As Jeremy shrugged out of his coat, his eyes happened to drift to the parlor where three pictures rested on the mantle. Just as Addy said, a picture of him when he was a baby was there. He liked that. "Will you stay for supper?" Eliza asked. "I can't cook well, but Lucy makes a tasty roast." Jeremy glanced at Jane to see what her thoughts were, but instead of looking at him, she was talking to Lucy about their trip. Smiling, he said, "We'd love to." He took Jane's coat and hat and put them on the coat tree next to his before he followed John, Eliza, and Brian to the kitchen table. Addy joined Lucy and Jane as Jeremy sat across from John and next to Brian. Brian smiled and turned his head in Jeremy's direction. "I have no idea what to say around a bunch of women who fuss over children, so I thought it'd be safer to stay here." Jeremy chuckled. "A group of women together can be intimidating." He glanced at John, recalling how Addy said he was mute, and wondered how it would be best to communicate with him. Eliza set an extra cup of coffee on the table. "Oh come now. There's nothing intimidating about a group of women. We're harmless." John put his hand under Brian's and made gestures that caused Brian to laugh. "Pa says you don't see women the way a man does." "Women should be intimidated by a group of men, but they aren't," Eliza said as she set sugar next to Jeremy's cup and sat next to John. Jeremy thought the way a mute man communicated with a blind one was fascinating, so he watched as John rolled his eyes but signed into Brian's hand. "Do you know sign language?" Eliza asked Jeremy. Putting a spoonful of sugar into his coffee, Jeremy shook his head. "I haven't had the opportunity to learn it." "Be sure to tell him what your pa is saying," she told Brian. "Don't give each other secret messages." Glancing at Jeremy, she said, "They're apt to do that, you know. They pretend as if no one else exists at times." John shook his head at her. "It is so true," she replied. When he waved his hand as if to dismiss her observation, she sighed. "You'll have to forgive them. Sometimes they're in a world of their own." With a smile, Jeremy stirred the sugar and set the spoon aside so he could take a sip of the hot drink. "Pa said that it's nice that Jeremy and Jane came here," Brian said. "It is nice," she replied and smiled at Jeremy. "I admit you caught me by surprise, but it was a good one. Looking at you, I see the Grahams took good care of you. I don't remember the husband's name, but I remember the wife's name was Agatha." "My father's name was Thomas," Jeremy said.
"They were such wonderful people, but Thomas isn't alive anymore? What about Agatha?" "She went passed away five years ago." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I imagined that they were still alive and enjoying their grandchildren." After a moment, she continued, "You had a happy childhood, didn't you?" "Yes. I can't complain about my upbringing. They didn't always give into what I wanted, but they were fair and taught me right from wrong." She nodded. "That's exactly what a boy needs. And you grew up in Grand Island? I haven't been there. Is it nice?" "It is. I didn't leave until I got send to pastor a church in Lincoln." "You're a preacher?" "I spent some time working at the general store in Grand Island before I figured out God called me to be a preacher. I received the education I needed and got sent to Lincoln. That's where I met Jane. She grew up there." Eliza pressed her hand to her heart and looked at John. "A preacher? Can you imagine that?" John signed to her. She laughed. "Oh, you did not." She turned to Jeremy. "He says he knew it when you walked through the door. Seriously, John, you can't tell someone's profession just by looking at them. Why, no one can tell you and Brian make furniture, especially since Brian can't see. So no, you didn't know Jeremy was a preacher when he walked through the door." John signed again. "Preachers do not have a certain way of entering a room. You are impossible." She sighed. "Don't mind him, Jeremy. He can't tell these things." Brian chuckled. "This is normal for Ma and Pa, Jeremy. After awhile, you learn to ignore the banter." "Well, it's absurd someone would claim to know another person's profession just by looking at them," Eliza said before turning her attention back to Jeremy. "You're happy then? Life's treated you well?" Jeremy glanced at Jane who laughed along with Lucy at something Addy said. "Yes, life has treated me well. I've been blessed more than I deserve." The last of his uncertainty departing, he continued to tell them about his life.
Chapter Twenty
The next day, Jane sat with Lucy and Eliza in the parlor of Eliza's house while Charlotte took a nap in the other room. She pulled the needle through the cloth square she was sewing into the quilt. "I notice you like yellow," she told Eliza as she scanned the various shades of yellow Eliza wanted for her blanket. "I do," Eliza admitted from across from Jane and Lucy as she sewed in a square on the other side. "It's such a beautiful color, one of hope and joy. When I was a girl, my parents took me to a meadow where we'd have a picnic, and I'd play among the yellow flowers. Yellow brings back good memories." Jane smiled. "That's a lovely story. My best memories while growing up were Christmases. My father would read the Gospel of Luke, we'd sing songs, and open gifts. We didn't have much money while growing up, so we had to make each other our gifts. My brother would make me and Rebecca the same thing every year. He would take the leftover popcorn we didn't put on the tree and make necklaces of them. Then he'd have our mother help him draw angels to put in the middle. We collected those necklaces for years. One year, Rebecca and I made dolls for each other, and we spent the year making clothes for them. We usually chipped in and made our father and mother a scarf or socks." "It sounds like you had wonderful Christmases," Lucy commented as she selected a square to add to the quilt. "My favorite childhood memory was going to the lake by my house and reading a book." Jane smiled. "Sounds lovely."
"It was. Brian and I like to go to the creek down that way." Lucy indicated where she meant before she pulled the thread through the fabric. "Charlotte's finally getting to the age where she will sit for a bit so I can read. Sometimes Eliza watches her so I can go alone if I want to rest. It brings back good memories." Eliza winked at Jane. "And it gives me a good excuse to spend time with my granddaughter. I can't say I don't have an ulterior motive when I suggest Lucy take a break so she can go to the creek." Jane chuckled. "There's nothing wrong with that. I used to enjoy watching my niece and nephew so my sisterinlaw could get a break. She might have taken advantage on some occasions, but I still enjoyed the time I spent with them. After the fallingout I have with my brother, I didn't get to see them except when I ran into them in a store." "May I ask what caused the fallingout?" Eliza asked. "My brother sold me to a man who wanted to marry me." Lucy and Eliza stopped sewing and stared at her in disbelief. With a sigh, Jane shrugged. "It's true. My brother and I worked things out to a point, but it'll never be the same." "This person your brother sold you to wasn't Jeremy, was it?" Lucy asked. "Oh, no. Jeremy married me so I wouldn't have to marry Micah. Micah was disgusting. He farted and burped in public." Thinking back on the potluck her brother made her go to with Micah made Jane laugh. "I didn't think it was funny at the time, but looking back, I suppose it was. I was forced to go with Micah to a potluck and ran off to hide during the get together." An amused grin appeared on Eliza and Lucy's lips. "You really hid?" Lucy asked. "I did. I ran to the back of the house and waited until it was time to clean up before I returned," Jane replied. Eliza giggled. "I'm sure you didn't bolt to the back of the house, but that's the way I imagine it." "Well, it was close to it, to be honest," Jane said. "So how did you end up marrying Jeremy?" Lucy asked. Jane's face grew warm. "When he found out what my brother did, he told my brother that Micah wasn't going to marry me and to make sure Micah didn't, he married me." "That's romantic." "At the time, it wasn't. You see, he was married to my sister, and after she died, he had a hard time of it. I could tell the difference in his sermons when she was alive and after she wasn't. My sister was a lovely person," Jane softly said. "It doesn't seem fair that someone like her had to go before her time. Sometimes I miss her. She was my dearest friend." "What was her name?" Eliza asked. "Rebecca. She died a few months after marrying Jeremy. It was a hard time for all of us." "It must have been nice to have a good relationship with her," Lucy said, "even if she died young. At least you were friends." Jane sensed a tone of regret in Lucy's voice but decided she didn't know Lucy well enough—not yet at least—to feel comfortable prying into Lucy's life. Since Lucy didn't volunteer the information, Jane decided to let the matter go. "Anyway, I married Jeremy so I wouldn't have to marry Micah, and it's turned out to be the best thing that happened to me, though I'm sorry I had to lose my sister for it to happen." "He loves you," Eliza told her. "I know the look a man gives a woman when he loves her, and he has that look when he turns his attention to you. I'm glad you gave him a second chance to be happy. All I've ever wanted for him was that he'd be happy." Jane's face flushed with pleasure. "He's made me happy, too." Smiling, Eliza set her side of the quilt down. "I'm glad you two came. I hoped and prayed for good things for him, and it's wonderful to see him doing better than I dreamt possible."
Jane finished her square and noticed the others weren't sewing. "Are we done for now?" "I thought the men might like something hot to drink." "That's a good idea," Lucy agreed. "It's been awhile since they had anything." Eager to see the men at work on the furniture in the work shed, Jane stood with the others and put on her coat. She carried a plate of cookies while Eliza and Lucy carried the coffee and cups. "It's lovely here in South Dakota," Jane commented. "It's colder than what I'm used to, but it's lovely all the same." "It's been so long since I've been in Nebraska that I hardly remember what the winters were like," Eliza said as their boots crunched on the snow. "I admit that I enjoy being here most because of the good people here. Where you live isn't so important as who you live with." "That's true," Jane replied. Rebecca and Edith's absences from Lincoln left a hole in her heart. If it weren't for Jeremy, she didn't know what she'd do. "What do you think of South Dakota?" she asked Lucy. "I love it more than Minnesota. It's peaceful and quiet out here. I am wondering what it's like to be married to a preacher." Jane chuckled. "Despite what people think, Jeremy's not perfect. I used to think he was because of his profession, but when we have our first argument, I was relieved. I no longer felt like I was living with someone who never sinned. It's easier to relate to someone who's human, you know? A lot of people request to talk to him, so he stays busy and can be called out in the middle of the night. I don't mind all of that, but sometimes it's hard for me to think of what to say to some parishioners after a service. I don't know what to say most of the time, so I stay by his side." Lucy gave her a sly smile. "You should have Eliza with you. She has the gift of gab." Eliza sighed goodnaturedly. "It's a blessing and a curse. Sometimes I think I put some people to sleep with my ramblings." "Nonsense," Lucy replied. "You make even the most boring story sound interesting." "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not. Do you mean I talk about boring things?" she teased. "Oh, you're silly. Of course not, but you could talk about painting a fence and make it sound like fun. You and Tom Sawyer have that in common. You could talk anyone into anything." "Yes, but he did that to get out of working, if I recall right." "He did." As they neared the shed, Lucy asked, "Have you read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Jane?" "No, I can't say I have," Jane replied. "Well, if you want, I can lend you my copy." They stopped in front of the shed and Eliza turned to them. "I thought it was fine. The Scarlet Letter was much better, but The Adventures of Tom Sawyer was much better than that horrible Romeo and Juliet book." "What was wrong with Romeo and Juliet?" Jane asked. "Well, I thought I was going to get a romance, and while there was a romance, the two ended up committing suicide. I prefer a happy ending when I read. Granted, life doesn't always end in a happy ending, but when I read, I read to escape." Eliza paused and smiled as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "However, I will say that we've all had our happy endings, haven't we? We have good men in our lives, and that's important." "Yes, it is," Lucy agreed. "We're very lucky." Eliza nodded as she turned the knob, and as they entered the shed, Jane welcomed the warmth coming from the small box stove in the room. She stomped her feet on the mat by the door so she wouldn't trace snow through the shed. Eliza set the tray with the coffee pot on the table next to the door. "We
thought you men might like a snack after all your hard work." "I smell cookies," Brian said from where he sanded a chair leg. "Yes, but can you guess what's in them?" "Oatmeal?" Jane's eyes grew wide. Lucy was right. Brian could pick up on things with surprising accuracy. John stood up and made a sign that she learned meant 'thank you' while he took the coffee pot to pour coffee into the three cups. Jeremy also stood and went over to Jane. "I don't think there's any danger of me leaving the ministry to make furniture. I messed up with staining one of the chairs. Don't even get me started on my attempt to sand down one of the arms. John redid both so you can't tell where I goofed." She smiled and handed him a couple of cookies. "We all have our strengths. Yours is in front of the congregation." "It's easier speaking to a group than fiddling with a piece of wood." "Speak for yourself," Brian called out from where he sat. John handed Jeremy a cup of coffee before he signed to Eliza. "John says you did fine, Jeremy," Eliza said. "It takes time to learn how to make furniture." "You're being too kind," Jeremy replied with a smile. "I don't have a knack for it." John waved his hand to dismiss Jeremy's protest and brought Brian a cup and some cookies. Then he returned to Eliza for his own cup and cookies. "Think of it this way," Lucy began, "if you made furniture, then who would give the sermons?" "True," Jeremy replied. "I wonder if Preacher Brown would be willing to let you give this Sunday's sermon," Eliza said before she bit into a cookie. "I've love to listen to one of your sermons." Jane noted the look of pleasure on Jeremy's face and was glad his mother chose to give him such a high compliment. It was good his fears had been for nothing. His mother was as happy to see him as Jane hoped. "Maybe we could ask," she told him. "He's a temporary preacher, so I'm sure he would," Eliza added. "He's getting up in years and plans to return to where he grew up in Iowa to be with his younger brother and his family." "Isn't there a preacher due to come in who will stay?" Jane asked. "Not yet," Eliza replied. "Preacher Brown will stay until one does. He's waiting for word to come in." Jane glanced at Jeremy but figured it was best to ask him what he thought about requesting this town to minister to when they were alone. There was nothing tying her to Lincoln, and she didn't think there was anything holding Jeremy there either. A new start might be nice, and she enjoyed talking to Eliza and Lucy. It'd been a long time since she felt comfortable talking to a group of women. For sure, it was refreshing after overhearing what Marcy thought of her. Jeremy set his empty cup down. "When Jane and I return to town today, we'll pay Preacher Brown a visit and see what he thinks of me giving a sermon on Sunday." Eliza's smile widened. "I hope he says yes." The rest indicated their agreement and chatted a little longer before the women returned the empty coffee pot and dishes to the house. When Jeremy and Jane left in the buggy Addy and Frank let them borrow, she turned him. "What do you think of being here? Do you like it?" He took her hand in his and said, "Yes, I do. My mother is a nice woman. I'm glad I got a chance to meet her." Sensing his hesitation, she asked, "What is it?" He shrugged. "I keep wondering how she became a prostitute? How does a girl at fourteen end up at the top of a saloon giving her son away for adoption? I mean, I understand how she got pregnant since it was the result of the business, but didn't she have family she could have gone to instead of running to a saloon for employment?"
"I don't know. Are you going to ask?" "I've been thinking about it. Do you think she'll tell me?" "There's only one way to find out." "Whatever the story is, I'm sure it's not pleasant. There's a reason why she's told me everything else but that." "If it's important for you to know, then you should ask." 