Brides of Ohio (14 page)

“Daniel came looking for you when Jacob didn’t show up.” Daniel had told them the evening before how he had pounded on the door to their small shack at the edge of town. When there was no answer, he peered in a window and broke in when he had seen Adele lying in a heap on the floor. “He brought you both here.”

“The infection set in so quickly,” she said tearfully.

“Why didn’t you send for the doctor?”

“I could not afford it.” Adele looked brokenly at her son. “Mein lieber, Junge. God is punishing me.”

Katherine stared wonderingly at her. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mrs. Stephens.”

Adele reached out a weak hand and laid it on Katherine’s. “
Weil ich tadelte
—” She stopped herself. “Because I blamed you for Nathaniel’s death,” she continued softly, her accent becoming thicker as her emotion rose. “Mrs. Kirby was helping me after I lose the farm. But when you come I cannot bring myself to talk to Mary.” Katherine’s free hand strayed to her jaw as the poor woman continued. “We were running out of food. It is why I let Jacob come here. So he could eat. You were so kind to him, he says. He says I should not be angry.” She dissolved into tears.

Katherine shakily offered her a handkerchief before calling for Mary. The older woman arrived, and Katherine left the room, unable to hold back tears of her own.

By that evening, Adele was well enough to be helped downstairs into the parlor. Since her confession to Katherine earlier, she kept to herself, communicating with them through nods and short one- or two-word sentences. Jacob, while he showed some improvement, was still very sick.

Mary insisted Adele leave his side for at least an hour or so. She promised to stay with him while Katherine made dinner.

When Daniel stepped into the house, he found Adele seated on the sofa, one of his mother’s quilts lying over her lap. He immediately started to leave the room.

“Daniel,” she called.

He slowly stepped back in. Still weak and thin, Adele looked nothing like the woman Nate had left behind. Her blue eyes were dull and her corn silk–colored hair was thin and dry. He still couldn’t believe how wasted she’d become. But she looked at him kindly and asked him to sit down next to her.

“Adele …,” he began and then stopped. The words he’d rehearsed over and over in his head refused to come to him. He could only look at her helplessly.

“It is good to see you again.” She looked at him for a moment or two and sighed. “I am sorry. I should have written to you.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I never should have told you what happened the way I did.”

“No, it needed to be told.” She patted his hand. “I will be able to tell Jacob how brave his father was when he is older.” Her face became even more drawn. “If my pride has not killed him.”

“Adele, what happened?” he asked eagerly. “How did you get so sick? Why did Elijah Carr make you leave your farm?”

“I could not take care of the land. When Nathaniel died, I had to let go of the help and I could not keep up. So I gave it back to Mr. Carr.”

“He said something about a debt. I thought Nate had the land paid off.”

She lowered her eyes. “I borrowed money from him. So we could eat. He forgave the debt when I gave him back the land.”

Daniel frowned. “Ma should have told me.”

“I would not let her.”

“What about your brother? Why didn’t you write him?”

Adele looked at him sadly. “I tried to write him, but he never wrote back.”

Daniel ran his hands through his hair. Erich had gone west not long after Adele had gotten married. He’d always written religiously. Therefore, the only explanation was that he had perished somewhere in the Western plains like so many others. “Ma should have told me. I could have sent or done something.”

“Your mother did it for you,” she reassured him. “She got Mr. Henderson to let us live in his old building in Ostrander. And she would bring us baskets of food.” Her own brow furrowed. “But then she got sick. I did not even know until Mr. Carr brought the last basket. He said I should stay away so we would not get sick, too.” She closed her eyes and raised a hand to her face. “I came here for your mother’s funeral, to speak to Mrs. O’Neal. But Miss Wallace spoke to me first, and I left. I could not come back.” Adele bowed her head, shamefaced. “I did not want to see her again.”

Daniel started. His mother had died almost two months ago. “Adele, how long have you been without food?”

“I stretched out what I had left from the last basket,” she whispered, still looking down at her lap. “I let Jacob have most of it. But it ran out. I was too proud to say anything to those at church. So I had to come let him work for you even though I did not want him with Miss Wallace. He needed to eat.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “She was so kind to my son. She bandaged his hand and gave him candy. I had treated her so poorly. Jacob said I needed to forgive. I was going to come to church last Sunday to apologize. But he got sick, and I don’t remember what happened after that.”

Daniel scooped her up in his arms and let her weep into his shoulder as he closed his eyes and silently worded a prayer.

Two nights later, Daniel sat in the parlor as Katherine worked on some mending. He watched her delicate hands work needle and thread to repair the breast pocket of one of his work shirts. When she finished, she smoothed her hand over the pocket before setting it aside. He’d never wanted to be a piece of fabric so much in his life.

Daniel shifted in his seat and tried to focus his gaze on something else, the wall, the clock, anything other than the lovely creature who sat so near him but still seemed beyond his reach. He’d wanted to talk to her since that day at the fence. He had been certain she felt something for him, too. Had he imagined what he had seen in her eyes?

They’d had such an enjoyable discussion two nights before, and she seemed happy as they had laughed and talked. But now she was suddenly distant again. If it wasn’t for Simon Peter sitting at the secretary reading the
Delaware Gazette
and Aaron and Michael playing checkers on the floor, he’d kneel down in front of her and beg her to talk to him.

He glanced at the mantel clock. Mary was upstairs with Adele and Jacob, and if Simon Peter and his sons went out to the barn when they usually did, he might be able to speak with her before she went upstairs. Leaning back on the sofa, he opened up the book he and Katherine had been discussing. He read the first line of “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey …” at least a dozen times before Michael finally yawned.

“It’s early yet, but I’m done in.” The youth looked at his younger brother. “You comin’?”

“Sure am. I’m tired of gettin’ beat by you.”

They put the checkers away, and Aaron looked over at their pa. “Come on, Pa. Let’s get some sleep.”

“I’ll be along in a spell,” Simon Peter said from behind the newspaper. “I just want to finish up this article they have in here ‘bout them catchin’ that no-good Booth.”

“It’s almost a mercy they brought him in dead,” Daniel said as the boys headed out the door. “It spares Mrs. Lincoln the pain of a trial.”

Simon Peter nodded gravely. “They talk about the president’s funeral in here, too. You oughta be goin’ since you served in the war and all.”

“I’d like to, but I don’t want to leave you shorthanded.”

“We’ve been doin’ just fine. Almost got you caught up to where you should be this time o’ year.”

Daniel opened his mouth to reply when Adele, aided by Mary, came into the room. Daniel immediately took her from his aunt and helped her sit next to him on the sofa.

“She heard you talking and wanted to come downstairs,” Mary said. She settled down in a small rocker next to Katherine.

“Is Jacob better?” Daniel asked hopefully.

“His fever’s broken,” his aunt said with a smile. “And his hand is beginning to heal.”

“Thank the Lord,” Daniel said and embraced Adele.

“I heard what Simon Peter said as we were coming down the stairs,” Mary said, and he turned his attention to her. “He’s right. You should go.”

“Yes, Daniel, you should go and see President Lincoln one last time,” Adele said. “I wish I could go, but I do not think I am strong enough.” She looked over at Katherine, and Daniel watched as the young widow gathered herself to speak to her. “Perhaps you should go with Daniel … Miss Wallace.”

Katherine looked up, startled. “Oh, well …”

“I know she would like to go, Adele, but that may not be the best idea,” Daniel said. Katherine had expressed a desire to say good-bye to the president a few days ago, but she knew her accent made it impossible. And there was the distinct possibility that someone would recognize her. A number of people from Ostrander would more than likely be going down. He said as much now. “I don’t want to disrupt the viewing,” he finished.

“He’s right, ma’am,” Simon Peter said. “Durin’ the war down at Camp Chase, they was lettin’ some Confederate prisoners of war have the run of Columbus. Them officers behaved themselves, but folk down there didn’t like it one bit. Almost had a riot down there one time.”

“But I remember that day in the store when we all found out. Miss Wallace, you were so sad. And Mary tells me how you have always been faithful to the Union.” Adele looked imploringly at Daniel. “What if she wears my mourning clothes? I have a spoon bonnet with a veil. It would hide her face.”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “If she didn’t speak, it would work. And we could hem your dress. You’re a bit taller than Katherine.”

Adele nodded and looked at Daniel.

He glanced at Katherine.

“I’m not sure I really have any right to be there,” she murmured.

“You’re a citizen of this country, Katherine,” Daniel said quietly. “You have as much right to be there as anyone in this room. Maybe more. You were faithful to the Union when all around others weren’t.”

“I have the idea President Lincoln would be very pleased to have someone from the South come pay their respects,” Mary added.

Daniel watched her face as she thought it out. She finally nodded, if a bit reluctantly.

“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Stephens,” she said.

Even though Katherine had tried to soften her accent, Daniel still saw a pained look flit across Adele’s face. He knew she was making a concerted effort to let go of her blame and anger. It was encouraging to see the effort she now took to be kind to Katherine. But he knew she still was not comfortable with Katherine’s accent. At least not yet.

To his disappointment, Katherine rose. “I’m going to bed.” She looked over at Mary. “Do you want me to check on Jacob?”

“No, he’s sleeping peacefully,” she replied as she looked at Katherine worriedly. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”

“No, I’m fine.” She turned to the rest of them. “Good night.”

Daniel rose and followed her to the stairs. “Katherine.”

She stopped and turned her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I really am tired.”

“I won’t keep you then, but I want a chance to talk to you privately. Soon.”

She nodded and quickly continued up the stairs. As he watched her go, he wondered if he had been wrong to think she cared for him.

Katherine lay in bed a long time before she fell asleep. A certain degree of guilt had been lifted from her shoulders since Daniel had told her about how Nate had died. At least she need not feel so awful at the very sight of Adele Stephens. But leaving was becoming more and more tempting in spite of what the Lord was telling her. How could anyone around here heal if she was here?