1929 (73 page)

“Is there such a thing?” he asked, raising
his head off the pillow.

“I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into
the dark hallway. A moment later, she reappeared with something in
her hands and repositioned herself beside him.

“This is very special. I want you to take
good care of it, all right?” He nodded with sincere, promising eyes
as she showed him Maura’s cross.

“Someone special gave this to Jonathan when
he was having . . . nightmares, and, just recently, he gave it to
me when I was very sad. He said it should always be with someone
who needs it. And I think,” she lifted the corner of his pillow as
she spoke, “that if you keep it here, it will keep the nightmares
away.”

“Do you believe this?”

“I do. It worked for me. Will you give it a
try?” she asked with a smile, and nudged his head back down.

“Will you stay here until I fall asleep?” he
asked, yawning.

“I will.” She put her hand lightly on his
back as he closed his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The child spoke the words, but she heard
Jonathan’s voice.

June 19th 1930

The formalities of mourning now behind them,
people arrived at the farmhouse and began the healing process with
the sweat of labor. Jonathan helped Caleb pitch hay into a pile for
Hannah, then they surveyed the bustling work site from the barn
door. Older women stood around a large, metal tub over a fire. Each
of them held a washboard and scrubbed the pungent smoke out of any
fabric washable from the house. Jared and Sam, two of Hubert’s
closest friends, carried long two-by-fours on their shoulders into
the house, which produced the typical sounds of construction:
hammering, clanking, occasional clatter of burnt rubbish thrown out
onto the porch. Whooping laughter and a string of curses that set
one of the washing women off into a long-winded reprimand which
included her husband’s full name.

The younger generation worked in the garden,
trying to save what they could from the storm’s damage, and the
youngest walked around with buckets, picking up garbage and burnt
items tossed from the house.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay them,”
Caleb said, clearly moved.

“Maybe we could have a party when it’s
finished. A big picnic,” Jonathan suggested. “We could shoot old
Hannah there and have steak,” he said and grinned.

Caleb let out a laugh. “No, we need her for
milk . . . but we could have pork.” They both looked back slowly at
the sow in the pen.

“I was going to wait until fall.” He watched
the many people who took time out of their busy, struggling lives
to help. “I think that’s a good idea.”

On their way back to the house, an old truck
came rattling up the bumpy drive. A metal clanking sound came from
the bed, but the old cast-iron wood stove wasn’t visible until the
truck backed up to the porch. Abe Prescott threw the driver’s side
door closed with a tinny slam and waved at Caleb. “Got something
for ya,” he yelled and motioned for him to come closer. “Had this
laying around, needs cleaning up, but it’ll work fine until you can
replace it,” he said, smiling wide and toothless, motioning for
help to lift it out of the truck. It took eight men to lower it to
the ground and the women descended upon it with rags and scrub
brushes, admiring the old relic.

June 21st 1930

The bulk of the major renovation reached
completion by early Saturday afternoon, and a group of women armed
with buckets went to work cleaning every inch of the smoke-damaged
interior. Ethel walked around in amazement. This was her first
return to the house since the fire. She looked tired, but with the
early stage of shock past, Caleb could see she was moving into the
long process of grief adjustment as he walked with her quietly.

“It’s amazing,” she said, moving from the
kitchen to the living room. “It was so wonderful of everyone to
help.”

“There’s work until Monday, and then we
should be able to move back in. I thought we would have a cookout
on Tuesday afternoon to thank everyone.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” said two women
in unison from the hearth where they were scrubbing.

“I know it’ll be hard, Mom. We can move some
stuff around.” She looked over the living room slowly and then set
her gaze to the window facing the blueberry trees.

“He’s still here. I can feel it.”

“Let me know if there’s anything you want me
to, you know, take out to the barn.” She followed his eyes to his
father’s chair where he had sat every night.

“No. Leave it there,” she said with a wistful
smile. “Please, leave it there. So I can sit with him.”

∞∞∞

I can’t believe how great you look. It hasn’t
even been two months, Ahna!” Claire said. “I hope I bounce back
that quickly.” She turned to Ava, who was holding Samuel while
Arianna fed Savrene. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine now. I felt sick a lot during the
beginning, but everything has been so hectic, I hardly noticed. I’m
going to have to start letting out my clothes soon, though.” She
looked down at her dress, which strained slightly over the small
bulge of her lower stomach.

“Just think! Next summer, we’re going to have
four children between us.” Arianna laughed in amazement. “How did
that happen?”

“Five,” Ava said quietly, picking at the
grass with her free hand.

“Yes. Jean.” Arianna glanced at Claire, then
Ava. “I just didn’t know how you’d feel if, well, if I included
him.”

“Well, he’s here. He’s a child. He’s Jon’s,
so . . . .” She raised one shoulder in concession. “That makes him
mine, too, I suppose.” Ava gave a strained smile.

“What changed?” Claire asked bluntly.

Ava looked out into the yard at the shiny,
new door on the old house bustling with volunteers, then to Aryl
and Jonathan laughing together near the barn as Jean clung to his
father’s leg. She didn’t tell them about Elyse’s letter, Maura’s
love and support from afar, Jonathan’s confession, or giving Jean
the cross.

She answered with tranquility,
“Everything.”

June 22nd 1930

You’re taking a trip, Mr. Drayton?” Grayson
stood at the bedside ready, if asked, to help Victor pack his
suitcase. His employer packing his own luggage was unusual.

“Yes. I’ll be gone until mid-week or so. Make
sure Mrs. Drayton doesn’t stray far while I’m gone, would you?” He
gave at tight, irritated smile.

“Of course, sir. What time shall I have the
car ready to leave?”

“Have it ready in an hour. But I won’t be
taking the train. I’ll be driving myself.”

Grayson smiled nervously. “Going on an
adventure, sir?”

“Yes, Grayson, something like that.” His
black eyes flashed. “Where’s my coat?” he asked.

“It was laundered last week. I’ll call the
maid to retrieve it, although it is rather warm for a coat,
sir.”

“Just go get it.” Victor waved him away,
annoyed, and resumed his packing.

Grayson returned with the long, dark coat
over his arm and looked even more unnerved. “There’s someone here
to see you, sir.” Victor snatched the coat and tossed it into the
leather bag. He glanced at his watch and cursed under his
breath.

“He’s early,” he growled. “Grayson, get the
car. I’ll be leaving sooner than expected.” He zipped the bag and
headed downstairs.

Outside, Victor was handed a set of
instructions. Two good-sized boxes were tucked in the back seat.
“Be sure to follow these instructions in the order I’ve written
them.”

“You’ve told me and showed me a dozen times.
I can handle this,” he said, stuffing the paper in his pocket.

“I still don’t understand why you won’t send
me? This is, after all, my area of expertise.”

“For the reason that this is personal, that’s
why. I want the satisfaction of a job well-done by me.” His smile
was unsettling. His malevolent educator raised his hands in
submission.

“Besides,” Victor said, taking a step closer
and lowering his voice, “if I sent you to do this, you wouldn’t be
here to take care of my other problem.” He glanced toward the
house. “Remember,” Victor held up a finger in warning, “what I
said. Quiet and neat. No loose ends.”

“A man doesn’t get to charge what I do by
being messy or leaving loose ends,” he said with confident
arrogance. Victor hurled him a final smug look before pulling out
onto Fifth Avenue.

June 24th 1930

“We really appreciate your putting us up,
Aryl,” Caleb said sincerely as they carried armloads of things
upstairs in the rebuilt home.

“It’s no trouble.” He pushed the bedroom door
open and let his armload spill onto the bed. “I’m just sorry for
the circumstances.”

“Me, too.” Caleb set a stack of diapers and
blankets inside the crib, and then stopped to stare at a stuffed
bear that was propped in the corner. “You know what’s strange? The
babies have slept through the night ever since it happened. And
Savrene’s colic has all but disappeared.” Aryl raised his
eyebrows.

“Really? That’s great.”

“It’s strange.”

“Don’t question it. Just be grateful for it,”
Aryl said as they returned downstairs.

Ethel had begun teaching Arianna the art of
cooking on a wood-fired antique. Jonathan bounded onto the back
porch and into the kitchen.

“Caleb,” he said breathlessly. “I just got a
telegram from Patrick. He said yes. It must have gotten delayed
somehow, but they are going to be here on the noon train
tomorrow.”

“That fast?” Aryl pulled a chair out and sat
down. “We haven’t even talked about where to put them up.”

“Well, we have plenty of room here,” Caleb
said, “until we figure something else out.”

“Once Patrick is taught, you’re free.” He
understood the misery of doing a job every day that you hated. Or,
at the very least, didn’t love. Jonathan had come to love fishing.
And Caleb loved this small farm.

He leaned back and smiled. “I really
appreciate that. But I’ll still go out with you guys a couple days
a week.”

Earlier that morning, Aryl had started the
roasting fire in the pit and Jonathan and Caleb had heaved the
massive swine from the tree where it drained to the fire pit.

“You boys better check on that pig if there’s
going to be a dinner. Folks’ll be showing up here this afternoon,”
Ethel warned while preparing to make a vat of potato salad. She had
gone into work mode, Caleb noticed, and kept her hands and mind
busy every waking moment of the day.

Ava was all smiles, looking forward to seeing
Shannon again and helping them settle in the town. Jean stayed
close to her side.

Just before dinner was called, Caleb stood up
and got everyone’s attention. Many families were scattered about
the yard, some at small tables and others on blankets circling out
from the main food table. They all quieted down to a hush.

“I just wanted to thank everyone for
everything you’ve done. It’s amazing,” he said, admiring the house.
“And it’s hard to believe it only took a week. Thanks to everyone
for all your hard work. This dinner isn’t nearly enough to repay
all of you. Or express our gratitude–”

“It’s plenty enough, we’re starving already!”
toothless Abe yelled out.

Caleb laughed. “All right, everyone. Let’s
eat!”

He carved piles of pork for a large platter
and thanked each person as they helped themselves to the meat.
Caleb glanced over at Arianna sitting on a blanket. The dozing
babies lay close together, and Savrene tightly held a fistful of
Samuel’s sleeper. When everyone had filled their plates, Caleb
walked toward his family with two plates of food. Friends, old and
young, adorned the multitude of blankets and quilts that dotted the
yard. The simple meal and fellowship a reward for the week's worth
of hard work and charity. Jean sat in between Ava and Jonathan
under a small tree. Aryl and Claire sat close together in the sun
by the porch. Claire was listening intently as Aryl talked nearly
nonstop, pausing occasionally to eat. It was quieter now as
everyone feasted, and Caleb was grateful for a peaceful moment. He
lowered a plate of food to Arianna as she smiled, squinting up
against the sun.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Are you excited about
Patrick and Shannon?” Arianna moved so Caleb could snuggle in
between her and the babies.

Nodding, she said, “I’m so excited.” She
covered her mouthful of food with her hand. “I’ve missed her so
much.”

“I think she’s going to be quite impressed
with you. How much you’ve changed.” He shook his head slightly as
if he himself still couldn’t believe her transformation.

“Are you okay?” she asked after several
moments.

“Everyone has helped so much that it astounds
me. I guess we spent so much time in the city that I forgot how
decent and charitable people can be.” He looked over the gathering
and smiled. “It really helps with what happened. I don’t know
whether it should or not.” He looked at Arianna as if waiting for
her to agree or disagree. “I feel like I should be grieving harder,
mourning deeper. I almost feel guilty for being so, well,
happy.”

“Don’t feel guilty. Your father wouldn’t want
you to wallow in grief and stop living life. I think you’re doing
and feeling exactly what you should be right now.” She slipped her
hand into his. His eyes panned over the small farm that was now
his. It was made official with the reading of the will at the
dining room table the day before. The two conditions of the
inheritance were simple and Caleb had no problem with agreeing to
them. His mother was to stay on with him for the rest of her days,
and he was to never, ever, sell the farm to any non-blood
relative.