Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (22 page)

Thinking back to those days when God had seemed less distant set Jane to thinking once again about Miss Dawson’s insistence that prison walls weren’t a barrier for the Almighty. One day when a storm blew through, Miss Dawson said something about “grace notes in the rain.” Jane realized that flowers and patchwork had been grace notes for her when life was hard. She’d spent the winter after Thomas died piecing a quilt and planted flowers outside the ranch house, in spite of Owen’s sneering at the wasted water to keep them alive. And here she was in prison, tending flowers and making a quilt. Maybe God hadn’t forgotten her after all.

When, by the first of July, Jane’s quilt top was done, she’d gained enough weight that she had to let her skirt back out. Once again, she’d learned how to do her time. She’d learned something else, too. She was stronger than she realized. Strong enough to survive and strong enough to look forward. Not too often, and not for too long at once. But still, she began to believe in a future outside the walls. A future that included Rose.

Sometimes, she even thought about Max Zimmer.

Max wasn’t sure if the feeling would last, but as the door slid shut on the freight car holding his belongings, it was as if something lifted off his shoulders. He paused before climbing aboard the eastbound train and looked back toward the town just beyond the train station. His replacement was standing in the doorway of his old office. When he saw Max turn around, he saluted a farewell. Max returned the gesture and climbed aboard. And with every mile that took him farther away from Plum Creek and closer to Lincoln, he felt lighter.

Later that day, he hurried to give instructions regarding where to deliver the freight, then made his way through the station toward home.
Home.
He hadn’t had a sense of home since before medical school. Maybe he’d find it here. One thing was certain, the West wasn’t for him. He only hoped the place he’d bought sight unseen was as good as it sounded.

He walked the dozen blocks east to Fourteenth and turned north. As he made his way up the street, reading numbers over doorways, the red granite house drew his eye. It was better than he’d expected. A welcoming porch, enough windows to let a lot of light into the first floor where he’d create his clinic, and a private porch off the second floor where he’d be living.

Reaching in his pocket, he drew out the key that had come in the mail, pausing before unlocking the door to look over his new neighborhood. Already it felt better than Plum Creek. He just wasn’t cut out for small-town living. Lincoln made him feel energized. He loved the bustling business district and the train whistles. Loved the idea of being close to the university… and other things, of which he would not think. At least not at the moment.

Unlocking the door, he stepped inside.

M
amie believed in a merciful God who poured out blessings on the unsuspecting. And wasn’t that a good thing? After all, Mamie thought as she drove back toward the institution after spending Sunday in Lincoln, if the Almighty measured out blessings and answered prayer only in relation to the size of her faith, not half of what had been accomplished of late would have happened.

As the administration building came into view and a yellow blossom near the entrance caught her eye, Mamie smiled. They still had a ways to grow, but the promise of what things would look like in a few weeks could not be denied. And the blossoms weren’t even the most important thing. The important thing was what those flower beds meant for the women who’d planted them.

May and June had been generous in regards to temperature and rain. Being on the north side of the walls, the flower beds were sheltered somewhat, but they would still need frequent watering. In the midst of her smiling about the promise of color and blossoms and what the fresh air and exercise had meant to the women, Mamie made a mental note about watering cans. They would need a few.

The list of things needed seemed ever-present, yet that was cause for smiling today as well. Mrs. Louise Irwin was truly an angel in disguise. Not only had she taken the Female Department Improvement Committee to heart as a personal project, but just today she’d offered to drive out to teach a midweek Bible lesson. And wasn’t that an answer to a prayer Mamie hadn’t even prayed yet? She’d been too preoccupied of late with the changes in regards to Minnie’s role in the department.

Thanks to Lincoln’s booming population growth, Manerva was enjoying a huge increase in business. That had already meant that Minnie was less able to volunteer. But now it appeared that it might not be long before she had to quit relieving Mamie on her day off. That was a real concern. But Mamie reminded herself to not be discouraged.
God will provide. Hasn’t He always?
Indeed, God had continued to provide as her list of needed things grew. Just as she pulled the buggy up at the entrance and climbed down, yet another “thankful” appeared in the guise of Martin Underhill, descending the stairs to take Jenny in hand.

“Were you watching for me?” Mamie teased as she climbed down.

Martin blushed. “I was just having coffee with Harry down in the kitchen. The table’s right by that window. Couldn’t help but notice a buggy headed this way. You know I have an eye for a fine horse.” He patted the little mare’s glistening neck. “The way Jenny’s two white socks flash when she trots out, you can spot her a mile away.” He tied the reins off and went back to the mare’s head. “Hope you had a nice Sabbath.”

“I did. Mrs. Reverend Irwin has offered to teach a Bible lesson on Thursday afternoons. And it won’t be long before we have another wagonload of fabric remnants and such to bring out. The Ladies Aid wants the women here to quilt the signature quilt they’re making for their Thanksgiving fund-raiser, and you’ll never guess who was in church this morning.” She paused to take a breath. “Dr. Zimmer. He’s bought a huge house not all that far from Minnie’s shop, and he’s going to open a practice in Lincoln. Says he’s thinking Lincoln might have need for a convalescent hospital.”

Martin listened and nodded. “It’s good to see you smile, Mamie. I’ve been worried you’re overdoing.” He paused. “I’ll see to Jenny for you. Your sister said to tell you that, if you’ve a mind to stop up, Jane Prescott might appreciate having a word this evening.”

“What’s wrong with Jane?”

“Not a thing.” Martin smiled again. “It’s good news, Mamie. Your lambs are fine.”

On her way up to the third floor, Mamie ran into Adam Selleck, who was also headed upstairs. “Don’t you look lovely,” he said. “Like a fashion plate from one of the magazines in the parlor the hens like to cluck over.”

“I would appreciate it, Mr. Selleck, if you would refrain from those kinds of comments about the women on the third floor.”

“Why, Mamie, I don’t mean anything by it.”

“If you don’t mean it,” Mamie snapped, “then why do you persist in such talk? It isn’t gentlemanly.” She bustled toward the dormitory. “You wouldn’t call your lady friend in Omaha a ‘hen,’ would you?”

Selleck cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t call her anything these days. We’ve parted ways.” He smiled at her. “I realized there’s no need to travel all the way to Omaha to meet a fine Christian woman.”

They were at the barred door leading into the female department when Mamie asked, “Would you mind terribly fetching a bit of cream from the kitchen so that Patch can have a treat?” When Selleck frowned, Mamie sensed him about to refuse. “I know it’s beneath the duties of a guard, but Sergeant Underhill has always been so kind to do it, I suppose we are spoiled. You don’t mind, do you?”

Mentioning Martin had the desired effect. Selleck gave a terse reply and headed off.

Mamie called Minnie to the door. “Martin—Sergeant Underhill—said Jane wanted to see me. He happened to notice me driving up from town.”

“Just happened to see you, eh?”

“He was having coffee with Mr. Butler down in the kitchen.”

“Just happened to be at that table by the window, I expect. Nice coincidence.”

Mamie ignored her. “He’s watering Jenny and walking her out. She’ll be ready to take you back to town any minute. You might want to get going. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Oh, I’m not in that big a hurry. I’d like to hear how the day in Lincoln went. And besides, I want to be here when Jane shows you her quilt.”

Just then, Jane came in from the dormitory, the quilt top folded over her arms. Mamie stood back while she and Minnie unfurled it. “Oh, Jane… it’s… stunning.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “It’s for my daughter. Someday, I’d like her to know I was thinking of her. Even here.” She cleared her throat and began to fold it back up. “I think my account has enough in it for backing and batting, if someone would buy them. I can just do a knife-edge finish. Wouldn’t need any binding.”

“What color backing do you want?” Minnie asked. “I’ll see to it.”

“Blue, I think. Dark indigo, actually. When Rose was little, I used to—” She broke off. Shook her head. “Never mind. But I would like indigo, and I’ve at least two dollars in my account.”

Minnie nodded. “That’s more than enough to purchase whatever you want in the way of batting and backing. If you want fabric for binding, I’ll see that you get it.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. What if every woman up here wants to make a special quilt?” She glanced Mamie’s way. “You’ve already given me first chance at the blues and reds.”

“If every woman were to make a special quilt, that would just give us all a winter-long quilting bee. In fact,” Mamie said, “maybe I’ll suggest it.” She glanced about the parlor. “Ellen and I talked about quilting weeks ago, but everything else has taken up so much time, we let that part of the plan slip away. In fact, Mrs. Irwin reminded me about it just today.”

Minnie walked over to the row of sewing machines. “If you turn these perpendicular to the windows and put them two and two like so”—she gestured as she spoke—“you’d have plenty of room here by the windows. All you need is the frames and some standards.”

“Martin can make them,” Mamie said, even as she sent a warning glance Minnie’s way.
Don’t you dare tease me about Martin. I’m in no mood.
She turned back to Jane. “Mrs. Irwin spoke with me today about you quilting the Ladies Aid signature quilt. Not you personally, necessarily, but—“

“I’d love to!”

“Would a penny a foot suit?”

“More than suit. It’s generous.”

“Then I’ll let her know. We’ll put your courthouse steps in the frame first, though.”

Adam Selleck returned with a bowl of cream. Patch came running when he called her name, but then, when he set the bowl down, she arched her back and took a swipe at him. He swiped back, landing a blow that sent the cat flying. Swearing, he inspected the back of his hand and cursed his way through a diatribe that included the words
rabies
and
witches.

Mamie suggested Jane retire, and Jane scurried away. Minnie picked up the bowl of cream and followed her into the dormitory, Patch padding along behind them, tail erect, head held high.

As soon as they were out of sight, Selleck sputtered an apology. “I’m sorry, Mamie, but—“

“Please call me Miss Dawson. We are coworkers, not friends.”

“It pains me to hear you say so. Over a cat.”

“The cat has very little to do with it.” Mamie took a deep breath. “I suppose it’s only fair to let you know that when I meet with Warden McKenna in the morning, I’ll be requesting that Sergeant Underhill post you elsewhere from now on. I don’t believe the female department is right for a man of your… character.”

Selleck stared at her with an expression of disbelief. When she didn’t budge, disbelief became very like a sneer. “And dear Martin will be more than happy to grant that wish, won’t he? He’s happy as can be to dance on the end of the string for his precious Mamie.”

Mamie stiffened her back and lifted her chin. “That will be all, Mr. Selleck. Your services are no longer required.”

“The rules require a guard to be posted overnight.”

“And the rules will be observed. Just not by you.”

With a glance toward the dormitory, Selleck relented. He swept his hat off his head and gave a very deep, dramatic bow, then left without another word.

Minnie returned from the ward, locking the door as she headed through the parlor. She spoke in a low voice. “You could have heard a pin drop on the ward. What was that all about?”

Mamie sighed and shook her head. “Mostly it was about me finally facing the truth.”

“Well, the women gave a collective, silent cheer when you told him he was finished up here.”

“Martin’s probably brought Jennie back ‘round, so you can head back into town. Would you tell him what I’ve done, and ask him to send a replacement up? I’ll wait here.”

Minnie left, and Mamie took the seat Adam Selleck had just vacated. A phrase from her favorite proverb came to mind. “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the L
ORD
, she shall be praised.” It struck her that the same thing could be said of a certain man she knew. And his name was not Adam Selleck.