Daylight Comes (4 page)
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fter a final prayer, Pastor Mason dismissed the congregation and then waved his arms overhead. “Wait! We need to offer Moses our congratulations,” he shouted over the murmurs of the crowd. “And don’t forget the elections will be held in less than three months. All you men need to get out and cast your votes.”
The preacher’s final remark was followed by a loud chorus of amens from most of the congregants, but Truth said nothing. In fact, she decided her husband should be thankful women didn’t have the right to cast a ballot in this election because she would vote for the opposition!
Before Truth and Moses, along with Grace, could exit their pew, three people had clasped Moses’s right hand and promised him their votes. One by one, the men greeted him with the same refrain: “You got my vote, Moses.” She wanted to tell them to vote for the Democrat instead, but she dared not say such a thing aloud.
“I’s glad to see you up and about, Truth. You’s lookin’ much better than the last time I saw you,” Miss Hattie commented as she walked by, never missing a step as she continued on her way.
Truth sighed. The woman did have a way about her! She felt Moses’s hand on her elbow as he guided her forward a few more paces. At this rate they wouldn’t make it out of the church for several hours. Before another well-wisher could stop him, she said, “I believe I’ll go on ahead with Grace and Jarena. We can get the meal set out, and you men can follow along later.”
Pleased when Moses nodded his agreement, Truth took Grace’s hand. “Let’s find Jarena and go on home. The men are going to follow after a bit.”
A short time later, the three women were walking toward Truth’s home, all of them anxious to visit without the fear of others overhearing their conversation. Little Jennie giggled as a breeze caught her baby bonnet and blew it off her head. Much to Jennie’s amusement, Grace vaulted upward and grasped the hat with one hand and then plopped it on the baby’s head, saying she was going to double knot it this time. The baby bounced and giggled in reply while Grace secured the hat in place.
As they walked up the front steps of the house, Grace took hold of Truth’s hand. “I hear Miss Hattie gave you one of her famous speeches earlier in the week.”
“She surely did.” Truth frowned at her sister. “It’s no fun being the object of Miss Hattie’s attention!”
Grace nudged Truth playfully. “But she leaves the rest of us alone when she’s quibbling with you. She’s been busy embarrassing the daylights out of me for the past six months. Every time she sees me with Silas, she hollers to ask when we’re gonna jump the broom.”
Oh yes, Miss Hattie had done the very same thing to her after she and Moses announced they would wed. The old woman acted as though her very life depended upon marrying off every single young woman in Nicodemus Township.
While the three sisters busied themselves in the kitchen, Jarena stopped long enough to tap Truth on the shoulder. “I know this election is going to bring wide acclaim to Nicodemus for years to come. We’re all very proud, Truth.”
Truth marveled at her sister’s remark. Why did they all think she was pleased by Moses’s decision—especially now, when she was expecting a child? The entire town, including the members of her family, viewed Moses’s bid for election as a matter of community pride. As far as Truth was concerned, the depth of her family’s pride would be measured by their willingness to help should Moses be elected. Since they freely expressed that his position as state auditor would prove a wondrous thing for the entire community, she had decided to test the depth of their good wishes.
Once everyone had been seated around the table, with plates filled and thanks given for their meal, the conversation turned to the upcoming election. Thomas offered to help if there was anything he could do to assist Moses with his campaign.
Before her husband could reply, Truth scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned forward. She wanted to make eye contact with her brother-in-law when she told him exactly how he could help. By the time Truth had articulated her plan, both Thomas and Jarena were visibly bewildered. They looked, in fact, utterly astonished that Truth had asked them to leave their own home and move to town—into her house.
She could not understand their reluctance. The home she and Moses had built was nearly new, and it simply should not sit empty and deteriorate while they were gone. To have some unknown family move in was out of the question. Thomas would still be able to maintain his farm; his acreage wasn’t far from town.
Jarena clamped an unrelenting gaze upon Truth. “I see. If you must endure a scrap of unhappiness in your life, you want to be certain we all suffer with you.”
How could Jarena say such a thing? Truth was offering a very nice home! Much nicer than the soddy Jarena and Thomas lived in on their land. She couldn’t let her sister’s remark go unchallenged. With the confidence of a skilled debater, she reminded her that they had all expressed their desire for Moses to serve as a state official and had avowed the importance of his election. If they had been declaring the truth, surely they should be willing—even want—to sacrifice on his behalf.
Though she’d expected them to intervene, her father and Moses remained surprisingly silent throughout her exchange with Thomas and Jarena. She could only assume they agreed with her stance. Empowered by that belief, Truth continued. Perhaps knowing Jarena was caring for her house would dispel her fears over being uprooted.
As her argument drew to a close, she focused on Grace. “Also, I want Grace to accompany us to Topeka and stay with me until after the baby is born.”
Her second appeal was met with immediate arguments from both Silas and her father. Once again, Truth waged a remarkable debate against her family. Grace remained silent, seemingly thunderstruck by her sister’s request. Finally, Moses clanged his spoon on the table and pointed out that Grace might wish to offer an opinion in the matter.
Grace’s big eyes flitted from Silas to Truth to her father. “Unless you divide me in thirds, I don’t see how I can make all of you happy. How am I supposed to decide? If I make one person happy, the other two will be unhappy.”
Ezekiel leaned forward, obviously prepared to take command. “I’s gonna be lots happier if you stays in Nicodemus.”
Truth frowned at her father. Hadn’t he been one of Moses’s strongest advocates, pushing her husband to accept Governor St. John’s appointment as the Graham County clerk, encouraging him to represent the Republican Party at the state convention, lauding the fact that his name would be on the ballot for state auditor? Was it truly so difficult for all of them to understand Truth’s concerns, her desperate need to have family around her if she had to move to Topeka?
My father is willing to see others take a risk or change their lives in order to serve a noble cause, but only if such change comes at no expense to him
. And as her fears continued to escalate, she politely pointed out that fact. Her comment only served to escalate the argument to another level until Moses reminded them that the family might not be together for Sunday dinners much longer. He suggested they enjoy their coffee and dessert in a more peaceable fashion.
Though all of them complied, the remainder of the meal was strained. Truth was glad when the meal ended and the women retreated to the kitchen by themselves. There was little doubt she needed to reinforce her arguments to Jarena and Grace in private.
While they cleared and washed the dishes, Truth quietly explained the fears and worries that plagued her, though neither of them appeared to completely understand. Jarena avowed Truth would have excellent medical care in Topeka, while Grace pointed out that most babies were born without a lick of difficulty. Those things might be true, but they did little to assuage the nagging trepidation that had taken up residence within Truth’s heart.
By the time they’d completed their tasks in the kitchen, she had received an agreement from both of her sisters. Jarena was certain she’d have little difficulty convincing Thomas they should lend their support by moving to town. And though Grace remained doubtful whether Silas would understand, she had acquiesced when Truth had pointed out she wasn’t yet officially engaged.
After she’d finally elicited agreement from her sisters, Truth gestured toward the parlor. “You two go and join the others. I’ll take care of the rest.”
After returning the serving bowls to the proper shelves, Truth removed her apron and hung it on the peg. She absently decided to cut through the dining room, but she stopped midstride at the sounds of a heated exchange. Silas and Grace! She flattened herself against the wall and remained perfectly still. She hoped the floorboards wouldn’t creak.
“Truth is bein’ downright selfish and you knows it, Grace. Sounds to me like she done learnt too many lessons from yo’ aunt Lilly ’bout how to control folks. I knowed from the first time I met her back in New York that she was headstrong, but I never did realize how far she’d go to git her own way. She don’ care ’bout nobody but herself.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. How could Silas say such things about her? She wanted to swing around the doorway and tell him how wrong he was. She cared about others. Wasn’t she the one who’d brought him back from New York with a promise of a good life on the Kansas plains and his very own farm? And hadn’t she kept her promises to him? Hadn’t she cared about him?
“Please don’t be angry, Silas,” Grace said. “I do understand your objections. But Truth is frightened and we’re twins. I need to help her. I promise I’ll come home once the baby’s born.”
He mumbled a reply that Truth couldn’t make out.
“No, I give you my word. I’ll be back before the child is two weeks old.”
Two weeks?
Truth hoped Grace would remain far more than two weeks after the baby’s birth. However, there was no need to argue that point now. There would be plenty of time to discuss Grace’s return date.
Maybe Moses will lose the election. That would be the best solution of all
.
Hill City , Kansas
•
October 1882
M
acia Boyle remained silent during the evening meal, much the same as she had ever since her return from Europe in September. Though her overseas journey with Mrs. Donlevy had been scheduled to last only six months—eight at the very most—Macia had been away from home nearly two years, due primarily to Mrs. Donlevy’s physical complaints throughout their travels in Europe. Much like Macia’s own mother’s sickness, Mrs. Donlevy’s bouts of illness appeared to come and go at will.
On several occasions Macia had threatened to leave the woman in Europe and journey home by herself. But Mrs. Donlevy would plead her case and promise to book passage the moment she was well enough to travel. At one point in their travels, Macia even accused the woman of being an imposter. However, Macia’s doubts were proved inaccurate when Mrs. Donlevy died at a villa in Italy only a few days after Macia had made the unfortunate remark.
That entire episode was almost more than Macia could bear. She was ill prepared to make the proper arrangements. Had it not been for the assistance of a kindly priest, she wouldn’t have been able to carry the heavy burdens placed on her shoulders.
Father Viccaro took charge and completed all of the necessary preparations. Though not normally a proponent of the practice, he suggested Mrs. Donlevy’s body be cremated for ease in transporting it back to the United States. Macia had no idea what the woman’s relatives might think, but she agreed. In fact, she would have agreed to almost anything in order to return home in a timely fashion. So she boarded the ship carrying Mrs. Donlevy’s ashes in a bronze urn. When the ship was beset by stormy seas, Macia nearly came undone at the thought of poor Mrs. Donlevy’s ashes spilling about her cabin. She was most relieved when she delivered the container to Mrs. Don-levy’s second cousin, Myrtle, at the pier in Norfolk. In fact, handing over the ashes was nearly as gratifying as seeing her brother Carlisle waiting for her on the dock.
She completely lost her composure when her older brother drew her into a consoling embrace and expressed his sorrow that her travels had gone awry. And though Carlisle hadn’t planned to accompany her back to Kansas, after he observed Macia’s fragile state, he managed to gain a special leave from his job to travel with her. The courage and strength she’d exhibited throughout her travels in Europe completely dissolved once she set foot in the United States. Carlisle assured her she’d be her old self when she was back among friends and family in Hill City. However, nothing could have proved further from the truth.
If anything, she became even more despondent, for shortly after her departure for Europe, her parents had hired a young woman, Fern Kingston, to replace Truth Harban as their cook and housekeeper. Supposedly, Fern had been traveling in a wagon train with her brother and his wife when an argument ensued. Unhappy with her situation, Fern decided to leave the wagon train when they neared Hill City. Apparently, Macia’s mother viewed the girl’s arrival as a godsend. She could cook and keep house to perfection, and her disposition was pleasant.
When Macia discovered Jeb Malone was courting Fern, and Fern discovered Jeb had once had romantic inclinations toward Macia, life in the Boyle household took a downward turn. It was obvious to Macia that her mother was delighted with Fern—both as a housekeeper and as a prospective bride for Jeb Malone. And Macia knew she had no right to complain. When she’d departed for Europe, Jeb had clearly stated that he wouldn’t wait for her. Even so, Macia had been certain he would. Had it not been for Fern Kingston, he surely would have welcomed her back home with open arms. Instead, she received no more than a nod and a quick “Welcome home” when he came calling on Fern.
Macia’s father turned to her when the evening meal was complete. “I think we should all attend the Fall Festival on Saturday night. I hear there are going to be folks from all the nearby communities in attendance.”
Attend the Fall Festival?
The acclaimed Dr. Boyle might be qualified to set a broken bone or stitch a wound, but attending a dance wasn’t going to heal what ailed his daughter. She didn’t want to leave the house, much less attend the festival and the harvest dance that followed. Jeb would surely be escorting Fern.
Fern lifted several plates from the table. “You should get out and have an evening of fun, Miss Boyle. Jeb invited me to attend several weeks ago, and I can scarcely wait for Saturday to arrive.”
Though Macia immediately thought of several unkind retorts, she merely acknowledged Fern’s suggestion with a nod and excused herself from the table. Of course Fern was anxious to attend the party.
She
would have an escort: Jeb Malone, Macia’s beau.
Before she could escape the room, her father clasped her hand. “Why don’t we take a walk? It’s a lovely evening, and you need some fresh air. You’ve remained cooped up in this house far too much these past couple of weeks.” Pulling her along by the hand, her father led her out of the house and down the front steps. When they’d reached the street, he gently tucked her hand through the crook of his arm.
“Hiding in the house is not going to change your circumstances, my dear.” His smile was tender, and he gently patted her hand as she held onto his arm. “The only way to overcome this setback is to accept the fact that you played a role in what has happened. Jeb was prepared to marry you, but you chose to accompany Mrs. Donlevy.”
“At Mother’s insistence,” Macia argued.
“That may be true, but you could have denied her request. That fact aside, it’s too late to cry over what’s in the past. While you were enjoying the fine museums and touring exciting locales in Europe, Jeb moved on with his life. You can’t blame him—or Fern.”
How could she explain to her father that she did indeed blame Jeb—and Fern—and everyone else who had continued to move ahead and enjoy life during her absence? If she voiced her feelings, she would be judged selfish, though she ought not care. She wished someone would understand
her
feelings. Perhaps her father was correct. Rather than taking to her room, she should get out. How else could she make folks understand that she’d been wronged?
Her father appeared delighted when they returned home and she announced she would attend the festivities Saturday evening after all.
Macia rotated to one side and then the other in front of her mirror, wanting to observe the full effect of her dress. It was one of the latest fashions from Europe, even boasting the shorter sleeves that likely wouldn’t be seen in this country for at least another year or two.
The gown, specially fashioned by a Paris designer, was made of three differing stripes: an open-mesh fawn silk, dark blue velvet, and shimmering navy satin. Custom-stitched needlepoint lace decorated the bodice. The gown had been a gift from Mrs. Donlevy—fitted and sewn by the designer’s own staff while Macia and Mrs. Donlevy toured the celebrated city. There was no doubt Macia would outshine everyone else at the gathering. She tucked two jeweled combs into her hair and nodded with satisfaction.
Not surprisingly, Macia’s mother had taken to her bed with a headache and declared she’d not attend the festival. However, Macia’s father was waiting in the foyer with an appreciative gleam in his eye when Macia descended the stairs.
“You look absolutely stunning, my dear.”
She whirled around to show her new gown to full advantage. “A gift from Mrs. Donlevy.”
Her father gave an appreciative nod as she completed her pirouette. “It is a lovely gown, but not nearly so lovely as the young lady who wears it.”
After draping her shoulders with a shawl that matched the beige silk insets of her dress, Macia grasped her father’s arm. Perhaps the evening wouldn’t be so terrible. Fern had taken the afternoon off work and departed the house earlier in the day. Jeb had probably invited her to supper; at least he wouldn’t be calling for her at the front door. Her father assisted Macia into the carriage, and soon they were on their way. Though the festival was but a short distance away, she was pleased for the carriage. She didn’t want the hem of her new gown dusting the ground.
The Brotherhood Hall had been festively decorated for the occasion, and the music and revelry were in full swing when they arrived. Even though the party had been slated for eight o’clock, it appeared that many folks had arrived much earlier. Macia spotted Jeb and Fern the moment she and her father walked through the door. Jeb, his hair slicked down and wearing a navy jacket that complemented his blue eyes, was leaning close and handing Fern a cup of punch. He met Macia’s stare when she entered the room but quickly averted his eyes when Fern looked up to follow his gaze. Fern moved closer to Jeb’s side and slipped a possessive hold on his arm. Macia turned away, angered by Fern’s self-satisfied look.
Careful to keep her back toward Jeb and Fern, Macia surveyed the room. Her father had been correct. There were many folks she’d never seen before, and she wondered where they’d come from. The musicians took up their instruments and the attendees began to pair off.
Her father was about to escort her onto the floor when a handsome stranger approached and introduced himself. “I hope you won’t think me forward, Miss Boyle, but I had hoped you might agree to dance with me.”
Macia narrowed her eyes. How did this man know her name? “And you are?”
“Garrett Johnson. Walt and Ada Johnson’s nephew. My aunt pointed you out the moment you arrived. You are by far the loveliest woman in attendance.” He grinned and came closer. “Mrs. Kramer is green with envy. She was telling my aunt that she hopes to imitate the pattern of your gown for her customers.”
Macia assessed the newcomer. He was certainly attractive and well-spoken. She glanced at her father, who immediately stepped aside as he obligingly handed her over to Mr. Johnson. “How long have you been in Hill City, Mr. Johnson?” Macia asked.
“I arrived two weeks ago—and please call me Garrett,” he said as they started dancing. “Otherwise, I’ll think you’re speaking to my uncle.”
Macia laughed and nodded her agreement before inquiring about his visit to Hill City. He revealed that he had studied business in college and had also developed an interest in photography while attending school. Now, with funds from his father’s estate, he planned to establish a business that would yield a good return. And though
Macia didn’t say so, she was surprised he’d chosen Hill City as the site for his entrepreneurial venture.
As they continued to circle the room, he squeezed Macia’s hand. “And now that I’ve met you, I don’t believe I’ll ever want to leave.”
Before she could respond, the leader of the musicians held up his hand and called for the dancers to exchange partners with the couple to their immediate right. Macia froze as Garrett released her. Oblivious to her awkward predicament, Garrett danced off with Fern in his arms. While the other couples moved around them, Jeb and Macia remained fixed in place. Finally gathering his wits, Jeb held Macia at a distance and woodenly led her across the dance floor. A cool breeze filled the room, but Macia could barely breathe. Her hand was perspiring, or was it Jeb’s?
Jeb’s little sister, Lucy, beamed and waved from her position along the edge of the dance floor. When Macia smiled back, Jeb’s shoulders relaxed and he finally spoke. “You look lovely this evening . . . not that you don’t always . . . look lovely, that is.”
She should respond in kind, but a fleeting remembrance of Fern’s smug look wiped away all thoughts of decorum. Macia wanted nothing more than to inflict pain. “This is the gown Mrs. Donlevy had specially made for me to wear to our engagement party. Silly me, I didn’t realize you would take up with the first eligible woman who set foot in Hill City.”
Jeb’s eyes widened, and he reeled as though she’d delivered a blow to his stomach. “If memory serves me, I never promised to wait for you. Did you truly expect me to greet you with open arms? You were gone nearly
two years
, Macia.”
She hastened to mention it was Mrs. Donlevy’s illness that had prolonged her stay. Jeb shook his head. He obviously preferred to believe she’d remained abroad of her own choosing. Angered by his behavior, she determined to make a stand. Without thought of the consequences, she leveled a steely glare upon him. “If you continue to see Fern, there will be no hope of any reconciliation between us.”
In response, Jeb tilted his head back and laughed. Not a quiet chuckle or a guffaw but a loud belly laugh that captured the attention of the couples dancing nearby.
Hurt and embarrassed, Macia jerked free of his arms and hastened across the dance floor. She’d made a fool of herself. Likely Jeb would tell Fern of her ultimatum. Life had been difficult enough living in the same house with Fern. After this episode, how could she possibly endure the woman’s presence each day? Perhaps she could convince her father to dismiss Fern and find someone else.
She rushed through the doorway and nearly knocked her younger brother, Harvey, to the ground. He chuckled as he took hold of her upper arms. “I didn’t realize you would be so anxious to see me arrive.”
Harvey cut a dashing figure. Her brother’s years away from home had matured him. Although Macia hadn’t believed he would come back to Hill City, he’d been good to his word and had assumed ownership of the local newspaper. It seemed he’d given up his lazy habits and become a conscientious businessman.
Harvey peered over her head and waved at Garrett, grinning as the man drew near. The two men greeted each other in a familiar manner.When Harvey attempted to introduce Macia, Garrett quickly interrupted. “If you had arrived on time, you’d know I’ve had the pleasure of dancing with your sister—and I hope to enjoy her company for the remainder of the evening.” Garrett lightly touched Macia’s elbow. “I was afraid you were attempting to escape my company when you left Jeb standing in the middle of the dance floor and hurried toward the door. And Fern expressed her concern, also.”
Heat rose in her cheeks as the two men awaited a response. Though she’d like to know exactly what Fern had said, Macia dared not inquire. Instead, she said she needed a breath of fresh air and hoped they wouldn’t question her further.