Maggie looked over her own handiwork, admiring the way the blue and green calico dress clung to Daisy’s slender curves. She knew she could be a seamstress. She made everything she and Jude and Daisy wore, many items constructed from her ma’s wardrobe. She had even made most of Pa’s and Micah’s shirts.
“Cousin Margaret,” Wesley called from the doorway.
Maggie turned, seeing Wesley’s large frame, dressed in a dark suit and tie, filling the opening. “Yes, Wesley. I’m out here with Daisy.”
“I thought you might care to join me in the back parlor,” he said. “I know you read and write, so I thought perhaps you could assist me with notes on my Sunday sermon.”
“Of course, Wesley.”
“Good. Good. I’ve already asked Cousin Judith to join us for Bible reading and a morning prayer. She can finish her chores later.”
“Aunt Tilly wanted the dusting finished before noon.”
“No problem. A half hour of her time will suffice.”
Maggie and Judith sat side by side on the velvet settee, listening to Wesley’s prayer. His voice carried loudly through the stillness of the small room, his flowery words evoking a sense of reverence.
Jude, head bowed, hands folded, eyes tightly squeezed shut, fidgeted in her seat. Her henna-gold locks, plaited in two long braids, hung down her back. Her blue cotton dress, with several discreetly hidden patches, covered her petite frame from high-collared neck to full, frayed hem.
Maggie silently said “amen” to Wesley’s prayer and listened as he began to read from Psalms. Ever so slowly, her mind wandered, and she began her own heartfelt prayer, heard only by God:
Please let Aaron be well and fit. Keep him safe always. Let Micah be a big help and please Uncle Chester down at the store today. Help Judith to keep her tongue and remember her manners. Look over Daisy, for she has no one else to protect her. And Lord, give me strength and patience so I can keep my promise to Pa.
Maggie was busy clearing the dishes from the dining table while Mathilda Gower, dressed in brown muslin, sat sipping a cup of sassafras tea.
“Please tell Auntie Gem to fix me some more tea, Margaret. I do believe it has already restored me this morning.”
“Of course, Aunt Tilly,” her niece said, hurrying toward the kitchen with a handful of dirty lunch time dishes.
Just as she was returning with a fresh pot of tea, Maggie heard the front door open, and sounds of talk and laughter came from the foyer.
Judith bounced into the dining room with a smiling Thayer Coleman by her side.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said. “Beautiful day, isn’t it? May is quite a glorious month.”
“He does talk so pretty, don’t he?” Judith said.
“Doesn’t he,” Maggie corrected, in a whispering voice, looking from the handsome, well-dressed man to her open-mouthed aunt.
“My . . . my dear Mr. Coleman, to what do we owe this honor?” Mathilda asked, obviously surprised by the young man’s appearance in her dining room.
“Well, Mrs. Gower,” Thayer said. “I was on my way to see Miss Maggie, on a mission of mercy, when who should I see swinging on your gate but little Miss Judith, who most graciously invited me in.”
Mathilda glared at Jude, her silver eyes issuing a warning to never again play on the gate. “You’re calling on Margaret?”
“Yes ma’am.” Thayer turned to Maggie. “I’d appreciate it if you could come down to the Parshall House and see Aaron.”
“I—” Maggie started to reply.
“Mr. Coleman!” Mathilda gasped, her fat hand gripping her throat in a gesture of shock. “You must admit that such a request is highly improper. My niece is, after all, a young lady under my protection.”
“I assure you, I meant no offense,” Thayer said. “I’m well aware of what an upstanding young lady your niece is. I’m simply here hoping to call upon her Christian heart to be of assistance to a wounded friend.”
“How so, sir?” Wesley Peterson
“Cousin Margaret,” Wesley called from the doorway.
Maggie turned, seeing Wesley’s large frame, dressed in a dark suit and tie, filling the opening. “Yes, Wesley. I’m out here with Daisy.”
“I thought you might care to join me in the back parlor,” he said. “I know you read and write, so I thought perhaps you could assist me with notes on my Sunday sermon.”
“Of course, Wesley.”
“Good. Good. I’ve already asked Cousin Judith to join us for Bible reading and a morning prayer. She can finish her chores later.”
“Aunt Tilly wanted the dusting finished before noon.”
“No problem. A half hour of her time will suffice.”
Maggie and Judith sat side by side on the velvet settee, listening to Wesley’s prayer. His voice carried loudly through the stillness of the small room, his flowery words evoking a sense of reverence.
Jude, head bowed, hands folded, eyes tightly squeezed shut, fidgeted in her seat. Her henna-gold locks, plaited in two long braids, hung down her back. Her blue cotton dress, with several discreetly hidden patches, covered her petite frame from high-collared neck to full, frayed hem.
Maggie silently said “amen” to Wesley’s prayer and listened as he began to read from Psalms. Ever so slowly, her mind wandered, and she began her own heartfelt prayer, heard only by God:
Please let Aaron be well and fit. Keep him safe always. Let Micah be a big help and please Uncle Chester down at the store today. Help Judith to keep her tongue and remember her manners. Look over Daisy, for she has no one else to protect her. And Lord, give me strength and patience so I can keep my promise to Pa.
Maggie was busy clearing the dishes from the dining table while Mathilda Gower, dressed in brown muslin, sat sipping a cup of sassafras tea.
“Please tell Auntie Gem to fix me some more tea, Margaret. I do believe it has already restored me this morning.”
“Of course, Aunt Tilly,” her niece said, hurrying toward the kitchen with a handful of dirty lunch time dishes.
Just as she was returning with a fresh pot of tea, Maggie heard the front door open, and sounds of talk and laughter came from the foyer.
Judith bounced into the dining room with a smiling Thayer Coleman by her side.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said. “Beautiful day, isn’t it? May is quite a glorious month.”
“He does talk so pretty, don’t he?” Judith said.
“Doesn’t he,” Maggie corrected, in a whispering voice, looking from the handsome, well-dressed man to her open-mouthed aunt.
“My . . . my dear Mr. Coleman, to what do we owe this honor?” Mathilda asked, obviously surprised by the young man’s appearance in her dining room.
“Well, Mrs. Gower,” Thayer said. “I was on my way to see Miss Maggie, on a mission of mercy, when who should I see swinging on your gate but little Miss Judith, who most graciously invited me in.”
Mathilda glared at Jude, her silver eyes issuing a warning to never again play on the gate. “You’re calling on Margaret?”
“Yes ma’am.” Thayer turned to Maggie. “I’d appreciate it if you could come down to the Parshall House and see Aaron.”
“I—” Maggie started to reply.
“Mr. Coleman!” Mathilda gasped, her fat hand gripping her throat in a gesture of shock. “You must admit that such a request is highly improper. My niece is, after all, a young lady under my protection.”
“I assure you, I meant no offense,” Thayer said. “I’m well aware of what an upstanding young lady your niece is. I’m simply here hoping to call upon her Christian heart to be of assistance to a wounded friend.”
“How so, sir?” Wesley Peterson
Similar Books
