A Place Called Home (31 page)

Christine opened the wardrobe door. Seeing her things hanging beside Luke's gave her a feeling of contentment. She heard a door close and knew that Luke was back.

Luke followed the light from Christine's lamp and found her in his bedroom,
their
bedroom. Upon entering, Luke closed the door and leaned against it.

Christine was still in her wedding dress, her hair coming loose around her face. Luke was in his dark suit and crisp white shirt, so tall and handsome. Husband and wife stood in silence regarding each other. Luke spoke from his place at the door.

“Christine, it's been a long day. I know you're tired, and if you'd rather…” Luke halted as Christine moved toward him, her heart swelling with love at how thoughtful he was of her well-being.

When she stood directly in front of him, all she could think to say was, “I love you, Luke.”

Luke understood and drew Christine to him, hardly able to believe that a man could be so happy and blessed.

Theirs was a love sprung deep from within, willing and able to stand the test of time, come what may, with Christ at the head of their home.

Never would Luke or Silas have believed they could be so spoiled so quickly: baked goods in abundance, hot meals served, coffee always waiting on the stove, the house spotless, and clothes always clean—all brought on by Christine's presence.

Christine was a morning person, and Luke's only complaint was that the warm person beside him all night was not there most mornings when he awoke. But the warm kitchen and hot coffee could not be faulted.

For nearly two weeks Christine laughed at the sight of her new brother-in-law first thing in the morning. Silas would try to act as grumpy as he looked, but Christine only laughed harder and he gave up.

Every Thursday Christine spent the day at Grandma Em's. Christine insisted upon coming back once a week to help out. There had been a battle, but Christine won.

“You'd think I was 100 years old the way you're acting.”

“I do not think you are 100 years old. I know very well you'll be 71 next month, but that's beside the point.”

“But, Christine, you have your own house to take care of now!” Grandma Em said as she tried a new approach.

“My house is not going to suffer the one day I come to see you. Now, what day shall we make it?” Grandma Em was stubbornly silent.

“All right! I'll pick a day myself. Thursday. I'll be here Thursday morning at 8:00.”

“Less than a month you've been married, and she sounds just like you,” Grandma Em said accusingly to Luke, who was sitting quietly on the couch, watching his wife in battle.

Luke opened his mouth to defend himself, but Christine broke in. “Luke has nothing to do with this. It was my idea, and I will not change my mind.”

Grandma Em could see she was not going to win this battle, but she was not about to give in gracefully. “Is your salary to be the same as before?” Grandma Em asked innocently.

Christine was out of her chair in a flash and standing, arms akimbo before her husband. “Talk to her! Tell your grandmother I
will
be here on Thursdays to give her a hand and if she gives me one cent, I'll burn it!” This said, Christine stomped into the kitchen. Luke and Grandma Em listened a minute as she banged and slammed around preparing some coffee.

“How do you really feel about Christine coming?”

“I'm delighted to have her.”

“That's what I thought,” Luke said, his eyes twinkling. “You really shouldn't have teased her. You got me in trouble.”

“That was the best part!” Grandma Em replied as she headed to the kitchen to make her peace with Christine.

Using the back of her hand, Mrs. Hall brushed a fallen strand of hair from her face. Her eyes fell on a small slip of paper sticking out of a stack she was reading through. 284539. She contemplated the odd set of numbers for a time before setting the paper aside.

Sunday was no time to be going through the study at the Bennett residence, but she was drawing close to the end and was anxious to be done. Her fingers went to her temples and she rubbed gently. 284539. What an odd combination of numbers. Combination! The safe! Mrs. Hall reached quickly for the paper. She had nearly forgotten the safe.

Mrs. Hall went to a small wood cabinet that sat inconspicuously behind the desk below the two windows. The door opened easily to reveal the black safe within.

Mrs. Hall looked again at the numbers in her hand and then knelt on the floor. The first two tries with the dial were unsuccessful, but on the third attempt she heard a click. Reaching carefully for the handle, she turned it and pulled.

Her heart was pounding as she swung the door open. She rose quickly and moved the desk lamp close. A musty smell hit her nose when she resumed her place on the floor.

For a moment she touched nothing, but she held the lamp high and peered within the small cavern of the safe. A large, yellowish bundle of papers caught her eye and she reached for it.

Mrs. Hall recognized Joshua Bennett's own handwriting on the first page. It took the weary housekeeper some minutes to realize she was reading a will—Joshua Bennett's last will and testament written in his own hand.

With sudden clarity Mrs. Hall was transported back through time: “…she will receive the house and stables along with the rest of my holdings. In the event of her death, the inheritance will go to my partner, Vince Jeffers.” Carl Maxwell had read those words in a quiet, almost apologetic voice.

What a blind fool she had been! To be sure of her theory, she quickly scanned the pages in her hand. There was not a word about Vince Jeffers. Nearly everything was left unconditionally to Christine.

Mrs. Hall struggled up from her cramped position on the floor. Donning her coat and hat, she quickly grabbed up the incriminating papers and rushed for the front door.

“I think we should eat at 7:00. How is that for your families?”

“Sounds fine,” Julia answered.

“No problem that I can think of,” Susanne said, then added, “Pending as always Mark's work. We'll just bring Grandma Em with us.”

“Julia, are you going to do the pies?” Christine asked.

“I'd planned on it. I put up jars and jars of peaches, and that's her favorite.”

“Okay, Sue's doing a chocolate cake and I'm covering supper, so I think we're all set.” Christine would have said more, but the moment Grandma entered the kitchen, the three women stopped talking.

When the silence lengthened through Grandma Em washing a spot on her dress, she became suspicious. “Why do I get
the distinct feeling I was being discussed?” Grandma Em asked while approaching the table.

The women knew she had to be told, but they hated to spoil her Sunday. In their hesitation, she figured it out for herself.

“Oh, you girls! You're planning something for Friday, aren't you? I told you last year there would be no more parties, but you didn't listen. You need to be spanked and I'm going to go get your husbands.”

Christine looked a bit thunderstruck, but Julia and Susanne had heard all this before.

Within minutes Mac, Luke, and Mark entered the kitchen. Julia stood and gave Mac her chair. As she expected, she was pulled down into his lap as soon as he was settled. Mark stood behind Susanne, his hands resting on her shoulders. Luke took the chair next to Christine after moving it close beside hers.

“Where are the children?” Sue asked.

“Emily is out for the count on the sofa and the boys went out to play with Silas,” her husband answered.

“And Gram?”

“She headed upstairs after telling us you three were in plot against her.”

“You must have been discussing Friday,” Luke guessed, since he and Christine had already talked it over.

“Is it true she says no more parties every year?” Christine wanted to know.

“Just about, but she loves them and always has more fun than anyone else.”

“By March, when the cold weather feels like it's never going to end, everyone is in need of a party.”

The six adults talked around the table for a while. When Christine heard one of the boys run by outside and Silas call to him, she commented absently and to no one in particular, “I wish Silas were in here with his wife.”

It was a subject that had crossed everyone's mind at one time or another.

“Has Si said anything to you, Christine? About wanting a wife, I mean?”

“No, not directly, or even indirectly, for that matter. It's just that at times he looks a bit lost and lonely. I didn't mean to make you cry, Julia.” Christine felt bad.

Julia shook her head in mute apology over the display of tears and Mac said, “It's not your fault, Christine. Some people are born with an overabundance of tears. Julia has enough for six people.” Everyone laughed at this, and the spell was broken.

They continued to talk and make plans until Elizabeth began to complain about an empty stomach from the cradle in the parlor.

Soon everyone broke up to return to their own homes, the prospect of a party on Friday buoying everyone's mood.

“I need to see Mr. Jeffers.” The sheriff in Spooner spoke as soon as the housekeeper allowed him into the entryway.

“I'm terribly sorry, but he's not home. Perhaps you'd like to leave a message.”

“When will he be back? It's urgent.”

The housekeeper hesitated.

“I repeat, it is urgent that I speak with him.”

“He's not here and I don't know where he is. When I arrived this morning, there was only a note saying he would be away and to keep the house in order.” The servant looked frightened.

“Let me see the note.” The sheriff's voice was abrupt in his agitated state over Vince Jeffers getting away. The housekeeper scurried to comply with the order.

Upon reading it and taking a quick look around, the sheriff's hopes plummeted. From all appearances, Vince Jeffers had disappeared without a trace.