The Visitor (21 page)
Cassandra’s next thought chilled her to the bone. If he no longer wanted her and didn’t know how to inform her…
“Are you all right?” Tate cut in.
“Yes.” Cassandra suddenly stopped reading, sounding almost breathless.
“Are you certain?”
“I am, yes.” The redhead cleared her throat. “Why do you ask?”
“Your voice sounds strained, as though something is bothering you.”
Cassandra saw her chance but couldn’t find the words.
“What is it, Cassandra?”
“I just want you to know something. I mean, I’m sure you already do, but I want you to know it again.”
“Go on.”
Tate’s voice had taken on the patient tone that Cassandra found so comforting. When she tried again, her voice was calm.
“I haven’t forgotten that you’re to be resting, and if ever my coming is too draining for you, I do hope you’ll tell me. I would never feel harmed in any way. I only wish you to gain all the rest you need.”
“Thank you, Cassandra. I can assure you, I still find your visits very relaxing.”
“Shall I continue?”
“That would be fine, but before you do, will you tell me what made you think I wasn’t resting?”
“You seem uneasy today.”
“Do I?” he asked.
“Yes. I realize there might be days like that, but I don’t wish to be the cause.”
“How would you be the cause?”
“Well, as I said, if you didn’t want me to return and were hesitant to tell me…”
“I am hesitating about something today, but it’s not about your coming to read for me.”
“Is there something I can do?”
“I’m not sure. Shall I let you know if I figure it out?”
“Please do.”
Cassandra went on with the reading, relaxing into the article and enjoying it. The next piece was humorous, and it felt good to laugh together. But not until Cassandra had read two more articles did Tate tell her about the day before.
“Dr Tilney checked my eyes yesterday.”
“Was it painful?” Cassandra asked, her heart clenching at the thought.
“No, but it wasn’t the news I’d hoped for. Two more months of darkness.”
“So there was no progress?”
“There was, but I somehow thought there would be more.”
“Was it discouraging, or were you able to trust?”
“The trust took a little time. All day, in fact.”
“And today is better?”
“Yes. Much. But as you surmised, not complete.”
“I prayed for you, hoping you weren’t feeling ill.”
“Thank you for that.”
Silence fell for a moment, Tate’s heart telling him to jump, but he couldn’t manage it. The questions he had for Cassandra swarmed in his mind, but he couldn’t make his mouth move.
“Shall we go on?”
“I think I’m done for today,” Tate said, only then realizing she would leave.
“Shall I return tomorrow, do you think, or would you rather send word if you need me.”
I need you, Cassandra, please believe that I need you.
“Please come,” Tate managed aloud. “Any time that suits you.”
“All right.”
“Thank you, Cassandra.”
“You’re very welcome.”
A moment later he was on his own, his heart beating hard with emotion and something else he couldn’t quite define.
When his Aunt Harriet checked on him a short time later, he still felt spent and hurt with all that was trapped inside of him. Harriet offered to play the piano for him, and Tate gladly moved to that room to enjoy her talent.
The Manse
“John, what are you doing?” Judith asked her youngest child rather sharply, causing all of her family to look up from the breakfast table and stare at her. The moment they did this, she heard the tone of her own voice and went to him.
“I didn’t mean to sound so cross, dear. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, Mother. Are you unwell today?”
“Just a bit crabby I think, and there’s no excuse for that.”
“Why are you doing that with your eggs, John?” his father wished to know. The little boy had been lining up the egg pieces on the edge of his plate, and most were spilling onto the table and making a mess.
“Look at me, John,” the pastor commanded. “Are you not hungry this morning?”
“Not very.”
“Why is that?”
John managed a shrug.
“In the future, when you don’t care to eat, you need to say something and not just sit there and play with your food. Understood?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Mother?” Jane tried in a quiet voice, but Judith didn’t answer. Judith’s stomach had acted up earlier, and the smell of breakfast was not a pleasant one. In an effort to keep her distance, she hadn’t even sat with the family at the table.
“Why don’t you head up to bed,” Frederick suggested, his look telling her to go.
Judith exited without a word, and Frederick looked to his children.
“Have we done something?” Jeffery asked, his face concerned.
“No, son, she’s feeling unwell this morning; I don’t know why she didn’t tell you.”
“She’s tired of using that as an excuse,” Margaret explained.
“But she doesn’t use it as an excuse,” Frederick said in wonder, his brow furrowed in thought. “How do you know that, Margaret?”
“I heard her tell Phoebe. She said she wants to cry all the time, and she’s tired of feeling sick to her stomach.”
“Was it like this with all of us?” Jane asked.
“A little different each time, I think. A little more emotional with each child.”
“She looks tired,” Jane commented before everyone went back to breakfast. Frederick made short work of his and was headed up the stairs just minutes later. He found Judith on their bed. She was crying.
“I’m a terrible mother,” she sobbed. “John said he didn’t feel like eating, and I didn’t even make sure he was all right.”
Frederick sat beside her, his hand going to her soft, dark hair.
“He’s fine, and the girls are right there.”
“What’s the matter with me, Frederick? I want to cry constantly.”
“When did this start?”
“About a week ago. I have a constant headache in my effort to hold tears at bay.”
“Well, don’t try anymore. Just let yourself cry. I think it was like this with Jane. It will pass.”
Judith cried harder.
“What did I say?”
“Nothing!” she wailed in a way that was so unlike her. “I just can’t stand it when I’m awful and you’re so kind!”
Frederick’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, even as his gentle hand moved to stroke her back. They would get through, high emotions and all, and at some point, Judith would join him in the laughter.
Newcomb Park
Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God; for he will abundantly pardon.
Cassandra began her twenty-fourth birthday with this verse from Isaiah 55. At the end of his sermon on Sunday, Pastor Hurst had read it, and she had been so struck by the words concerning God’s pardon that she’d written them down.
Still lying in her bed, Cassandra prayed quietly. She thanked God for His forgiveness, the type that came in abundant amounts, and lay thinking about how undeserving she was of such kindness.
Thank You. Thank You for saving me. Thank You for putting me in this special family and this wonderful home.
For the next hour, Cassandra thanked God for every blessing in her life, starting with Henry’s recent letter to her and Lizzy. By the time she went to breakfast, she wished she hadn’t waited for her birthday to take some extra time but started every morning of the year in such a manner.
Blackburn Manor
“How is Henry Steele?” Mrs Walker asked of her husband over the breakfast table.
“He’s doing well. He’s tired, but that’s no surprise since all change takes work.”
“I’m so glad the family is back in the area.”
“As am I.”
“Did he say if Charlotte and Barrington will come anytime soon?”
“He did not. You could check with Lizzy or Cassandra on Sunday.”
“I think I will. Why don’t we have them to lunch?”
“Good idea.”
Mrs Walker made notes on a small pad, deciding to send word immediately and not wait for Sunday. Her husband asked her something a moment later, but at first she didn’t hear him. She was too busy mentally working out Sunday’s menu.
Pembroke
“I have something to tell you,” Cassandra announced to Tate before she picked up the newspaper.
“What’s that?” he asked, proud of how unknowledgeable his voice sounded.
“It’s my birthday today.”
“Congratulations! Will you be having a party?” Again, his voice gave nothing away.
“No, just dinner with Henry and Lizzy. And presents!” she added with a smile.
“I think you like presents.”
“I confess I do. My brother Edward sent me a game from Africa.”