Daylight Comes (10 page)

When she returned, Truth offered an apologetic smile. “Normally I keep hot water on the back of the stove, but with Moses off to Topeka looking for living accommodations, I wasn’t expecting—”

“No need for an explanation. You had no way of knowing I’d appear on your doorstep. When Harvey told me he was coming to Nicodemus to pick up some things Moses left for him at the newspaper office, I asked if I could accompany him.” Macia rubbed her hands together. “Your house is lovely. Not quite as large as the Rutledge Academy, but very nice indeed.”

Truth giggled, but the reference to the Rutledge Academy and the harrowing experience the two girls had shared in New York had a disquieting effect upon them. Finally, Truth asked Macia if she’d like to see the rest of the house.

Macia bobbed her head, and as Truth led her on a tour, Macia praised the well-appointed rooms and the impressive furnishings. These were all of the things Truth had grown to love and enjoy.
All the things I’ll soon have to leave behind
. She had worked feverishly as they’d built this house, intent upon shaping it into a comfortable home where she and Moses would raise their family, entertain their friends, and grow old. She had pictured all of it in her mind, even rocking her grandchildren on the front porch.

Now her dream was being pushed aside to be replaced by another—Moses’s dream. This time of happiness in their new home and the anticipation of their first child had been relegated to a place of lesser importance, at least in Moses’s plans.

A beautiful music box of rich rosewood sat atop Truth’s dressing table, and Macia absentmindedly lifted the lid before returning her attention to Truth. “I’m surprised you didn’t accompany Moses— especially since you say he’s planning to choose a new home. Were you not feeling well enough to make the journey?”

Truth sidestepped the question. “There were other matters needing my attention here at home. I must find someone to look after the house during our absence. I can’t bear to walk off and leave it unattended.” Truth traced a finger along an ornate picture frame in the hallway before descending the stairs. “We’ll be required to leave many of the household goods behind.”

Macia hurried behind her like a chick following a mother hen. She hovered while Truth brewed the tea and then insisted they sit down at the kitchen table. Leaning forward, she clasped Truth’s hand. “I think I have a solution to your problem. And one of mine, as well.” When she’d finished laying out her plan, Macia cupped her chin in one hand, expectancy in her pale blue eyes.

Truth sipped her tea and thought for a moment. “I should like to discuss your idea with Moses, but I don’t know when he’ll return from Topeka.”

“He won’t object. Why would he? Right now he’d agree to most anything if it would make you happy.” Macia giggled. “You know I’m right.”

“But I’m not certain Fern is a good choice to move into our house.

I had hoped for a family member—or at least a husband and wife to look after the place.” Truth stared out the window. “And Fern is
white
.”

Macia shrugged. “So are the Greens and the Wilsons.”

“And the Oxfords and Slapes,” Truth added. “Your solution isn’t without its share of problems, however.”

“And merits. Fern is an excellent housekeeper. It’s just me she doesn’t like. Promise me you’ll at least think about the possibility.”

Truth nodded. She would think about the prospect, and if all else failed, she’d likely have no other choice. She didn’t want the house to remain empty. Yet she hadn’t planned to hire a live-in housekeeper.

With no one to cook and clean for, what would Fern do all day?

The clank of Macia’s teacup stirred Truth from her private thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. How would Fern possibly keep busy if I hired her?”

“Do you think one of the stores in town might need some help? Surely there’s someplace where she could work part of the time.” Macia tapped her fingertip to her pursed lips. “I know! What about the newspaper? Perhaps Harvey could have her do something for the newspaper here in Nicodemus since he’s going to be operating both papers now.”

Truth sighed. “I doubt Fern has a talent for newspaper work. I don’t think we should worry overmuch about finding additional work for her until we know if she’s willing to move away from Hill City— and if your father will agree to the idea.”

Truth’s cautionary words didn’t seem to deter Macia. The moment Harvey arrived to pick her up, Macia drew him into her snare. And although Harvey agreed help might be needed with the newspaper, he wasn’t nearly as convinced Fern was the one to perform such duties. He needed someone who would gather information and write stories for the paper—preferably a person who knew the township and its residents. And that wouldn’t be Fern Kingston.

Macia forged on with her arguments. In her earlier years back in Kentucky, she had been declared an outstanding debate student by her instructor of oratory skills. Truth now understood why.

Finally Harvey said, “Should everyone agree to this arrangement— and
if
Fern is qualified to perform the duties, I’ll consider her.”

Macia lunged at her brother and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Harvey. Even if she merely gathers the information, I’ll write the articles for you.”

Her brother grinned and shook his head. “I know how anxious you are to be rid of Fern. I understand you no longer have feelings for Jeb—especially now that Garrett has begun calling on you in earnest. However, have you given any thought to Jeb’s reaction when he hears of this plan?”

“Jeb? What difference will any of this make to him?”

Harvey chuckled. “The woman he cares for is going to be moving out of town. Have you considered the fact that this scheme may cause Jeb and Fern to actually set a wedding date? They may decide to wed before the end of the year.”

Macia visibly wilted. Truth patted her hand and consoled, “There’s more than sufficient time to explore your plan. We can’t decide anything this minute. You continue to think about the possibility, but if Jarena should change her mind . . .”

“I know you’d much prefer to have family living in the house.”

After Macia and Harvey had departed, Truth considered Macia’s idea while she cleared away the teacups. Macia’s plan was self-serving— no denying that fact—yet it contained a nugget of merit. As she dipped the cups and saucers into the hot dishwater, Truth’s thoughts slowly steeped like the tea she’d brewed only a short time earlier. Having Fern move into the house would alleviate any need to beg Jarena to reconsider, an option that held little appeal. Truth picked up the dish towel and methodically dried the few items. She owed Jarena an apology, but her heart wasn’t prepared to take that step just yet.

CHAPTER
11

Hill City , Kansas

M
acia shivered as she adjusted the basket on her arm. A damp chill saturated the gust of north wind. The billowing blue skies of summer had given way to the shorter days of fall, and a dull gray ceiling of clouds had settled across the horizon to forecast a long, hard winter—at least that’s what the older folks in Hill City were saying.
“Gonna be a hard winter. Just look at those skies.”

The tinny jingle of the bell positioned above the mercantile’s front door announced Macia’s arrival. A number of Saturday shoppers were in the store, the women going over their lists while the men took up their posts at the table near the window to visit and play checkers.

Just as they had each previous Saturday, the men intermittently helped themselves to the coffee boiling on the stove in the northeast corner of the store while pointing to the heavens to affirm their weather predictions. Their wives mostly ignored them, for they were too busy examining the newly arrived fabric or cooking utensils. Macia could hear the women
ooh
and
ah
while inspecting the goods. However, she had learned that in the end, the women would purchase only the necessities. They had to be frugal. A farmer couldn’t count on decent yields every year.

Macia skirted around two men who were sucking on their pipes while they contemplated their next checker move. She’d offered to make the trip to the Johnsons’ store because she wanted to get away from the house, not because she wanted to help Fern with her duties. Upon her return from Nicodemus, Macia had been prepared to discuss the possibility of Fern being employed by the Wymans. Before she’d had an opportunity to pull her father aside for a private chat, though, her mother informed the family she had extended Thanksgiving dinner invitations to a host of Hill City residents. Stunned, Macia had immediately excused herself from the table.

On the one day she’d gone out of town, her mother had taken it upon herself to actually
do
something—in this case, plan a dinner party that would force Macia to interact with Fern. The bevy of guests invited for the holiday would require a sumptuous offering of food preceded by days of preparation. And Mrs. Boyle would expect Macia to assist Fern wherever needed. The idea was unsettling.

Mrs. Johnson beamed as she approached Macia with an armload of newly arrived fabric. She chattered delightedly as she extolled the kindness of Macia’s mother and arranged the bolts of material. “Why, who else but your mother would realize how difficult it is to work in this store every day and then be expected to prepare a large Thanksgiving supper? It’s difficult enough serving up plain fare after being on my feet all day long.”

“Who else indeed,” Macia agreed halfheartedly. She wanted to explain that her mother had absolutely no concept of life as a storekeeper’s wife. For most of her life, Margaret Boyle had employed someone else to perform her cooking and housekeeping duties.

Mrs. Johnson surveyed her fabric display. Apparently the arrangement suited her, for she gave a quick nod and then drew closer to Macia. “This will give me an opportunity to get to know the Faraday family a little better. They seem a bit standoffish, don’t you think?”

Macia shrugged. She hadn’t considered the Faradays standoffish. In fact, she hadn’t given them much thought at all. Her brother, on the other hand, had been making every effort to better acquaint himself with the family—or at least Camille. Once Harvey had made his intentions known, Macia had decided against pursuing a friendship with the girl. If Camille and Harvey’s relationship didn’t work out, could she still be friends with Camille? Harvey’s continuing friendship with Jeb caused strain enough!

Mrs. Johnson perused Macia’s list and then accompanied her through the store, helping her find each of the items written on the paper. Though Macia would have chosen to stroll through the store unaccompanied, Mrs. Johnson hadn’t asked about her preference.

Lifting a tin of crackers from the shelf, Mrs. Johnson nodded toward the side window, the one facing Faraday Pharmacy. “They haven’t been open long, but I notice that all the salesmen coming through spend a lot of time over there.”

Uncertain what kind of response Mrs. Johnson expected, Macia looked out the window. “I imagine they want Mr. Faraday to carry their products.”

“
Hmmph!
Mr. Faraday doesn’t sell frying pans or teakettles or jewelry or books, so I see no reason for those peddlers to be making stops at his pharmacy. And sometimes they remain the entire afternoon. Makes a body wonder how he gets any work done.”

While the two of them stared out the window, Macia reflected upon Mrs. Faraday’s stern qualities. So long as the matriarch of the Faraday family had a hand in the business, nothing would escape her scrutiny. And from what Macia had observed when the Faradays arrived in town, she remained convinced Mrs. Faraday was quite familiar with everything that occurred within the walls of her home and the pharmacy.

Mrs. Johnson poked Macia’s arm. “See! There comes one of them now,” she said as a man emerged from the pharmacy. “That fellow’s in town because he delivered supplies to Jeb Malone over at the livery. Now why would he go to the pharmacy? He was in there for nearly two hours.”

“Perhaps he’s not feeling well and remained in the store to recuperate before departing.”

Mrs. Johnson’s sigh of disgust sent her unruly wisps of hair fluttering above her forehead. “That man’s as healthy as the rest of us.”

Everyone had learned that Mrs. Johnson enjoyed peering out the windows to spy on her neighbors and their businesses. Then she would share her findings as “prayer needs.” She prefaced each morsel of tittle-tattle with “We should pray for . . .” That said, she’d be off and running, spreading rumors as though they were verified facts. Frankly, Macia wondered how the gossiping woman found time to stock shelves and wait on customers.

Apparently the Faraday family was Mrs. Johnson’s latest target. Unfortunately for them, the pharmacy was in plain view of the mercantile’s proprietress—from two different vantage points.

“See those three fellows leaving the pharmacy?” The woman didn’t wait for Macia to answer her question. Instead, she pointed to her Seth Thomas regulator clock that hung on the wall, high above the marble counter. “Mrs. Faraday will arrive in exactly fifteen minutes.

She’ll remain no longer than half an hour. Those men will return shortly after she departs. You mark my word. I know what I’m talking about. We need to pray that nothing terrible goes amiss in that store.”

“Who are you praying for now, Aunt Ada?” Garrett Johnson strode toward them with a confident gait. Though the question had been directed to his aunt, Garrett’s gaze settled upon Macia.

Mrs. Johnson poked a loose strand of hair behind one ear and mumbled an incoherent reply before scuttling off to the front window, where the men were playing checkers.

“This is a pleasant surprise. I planned to call on you when I left here.”

“You did? Why?”

Garrett laughed. “Because I enjoy your company. And also because I thought you might ride along with me to look at some land I want to survey as a possible site for the cannery.”

Macia wondered exactly where he was headed. Her hope had been to speak to the German girl Mrs. Johnson had mentioned, the one who might be interested in a housekeeping position. “I’m eager to meet the new German family that moved here while I was in Europe.

I had thought to introduce myself at one of the community church gatherings, but I’ve not seen them.”

“They attend the Lutheran church out in the country. It’s closer to their farm. I hadn’t planned to go quite that far, but we can go out there if you like.”

The hem of Macia’s skirt swished across the wood floor as she and Garrett proceeded to the marble-topped counter. Garrett discussed the ongoing checker game with the two remaining players while his aunt tallied Macia’s purchases, placing them in her basket, and Macia signed the store’s credit ledger. Taking the basket from Macia, Garrett escorted her out the door and, with a wave, bid his aunt good-bye. At least Mrs. Johnson hadn’t called after them to inquire about their plans.

Macia looked about as they stepped outside. “Your buggy?” She glanced up at Garrett, and he nodded toward the combined livery and blacksmith shop. Gently grasping her by the elbow, he guided her across the street to Jeb Malone’s business establishment. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as Garrett pulled open the heavy wood door and escorted her inside. The sweet scent of hay floated on the breeze to vaguely remind her of the past and memories she didn’t want to recall—memories that made her wish she could race home. But running off would call for an explanation. And how could Macia explain what she herself didn’t understand?

Hard as she’d tried, Macia’s heart hadn’t yet released Jeb Malone. Being around him forced her to keep her unwelcome emotions deep inside. Ultimately, avoidance had proven to be her best tactic. After all, she couldn’t take to her bed like a lovesick pup. Folks expected her to get on with the business of life. There were people dealing with
real
problems. Besides, now that she and Garrett had attended one or two social gatherings, people assumed they were a couple. They wouldn’t expect her to continue harboring any feelings for Jeb.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jeb greeted them and then resumed shoeing the chestnut gelding. Garrett’s horse and buggy waited in readiness. Perhaps she wouldn’t be required to exchange pleasantries as she had feared. Garrett offered his hand, and Macia moved toward the buggy. Suddenly, only the sounds of snorting horses and the shifting of hooves echoed in the livery. The hammering of shoe nails had ceased, and she instinctively looked down the length of the building.

Jeb seemed to be moving forward in slow motion, his boots dropping onto the straw scattered on the floor, forcing a flurry of dust motes into the air.

“I didn’t know you were going to be escorting one of the prettiest gals in town.” Jeb grinned wryly at Macia.

Though his voice emanated warmth, his steel blue eyes bore the same iciness she’d seen on the day she met him—back when she’d offered to befriend his sister and he’d warned her not to make any false promises because he didn’t want to see his sister hurt. She wondered if he’d given Fern that same admonishment.

Garrett pushed his hat back on his head and winked. “Afraid I can’t agree with you on that account, Jeb. As far as I’m concerned, Macia
is
the prettiest girl in town.”

Jeb ran his hand down the horse’s thick, sleek neck. “You’re likely right, Garrett.” He stroked the horse one final time. “Pretty day to go on a picnic.”

A flush rose in Macia’s cheeks, and she silently chided herself, annoyed he still had an effect on her. When he asked where they were going, Macia wondered if he still had feelings for her or was merely being talkative with a customer. After all, he’d been the first to mention she was pretty.

“It is a pretty day and we had best be going before we lose light coming home,” Garrett said.

Jeb started to turn back. If she didn’t say something, he’d walk away. But there was something she wanted to ask him. “I-I wondered if you’d permit Lucy to join us for Thanksgiving dinner. Mother has invited a number of people and we . . . I’d like it if Lucy could be there, too.”

“I s’pose that would be all right. What with Fern cooking over at your place, we weren’t planning anything special for Thanksgiving.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Sure, that’s fine.”

“In that case, why don’t both you and Lucy come?”

Macia swiveled her head so quickly she thought she heard the bones in her neck crack. What in the world was Garrett thinking? He had no business extending an invitation to dinner at
her
home.

Her fingers dug into the flesh of Garrett’s arm, and she focused upon a broken board. She didn’t want to look into Jeb’s eyes and be greeted with a cold stare. “Don’t feel obligated to come,” she said. “I realize there are other things . . .”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got nothing else to do. I’d enjoy a fine Thanksgiving meal. You can count on Lucy and me.” He tucked a piece of straw between his teeth and started for the other side of the barn. “Thanks for the invite.”

“You’re welcome.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.