The Visitor (8 page)

Cassandra felt tears in her eyes. She hadn’t run from God in sin, but she’d been gone so long. She had let Emma talk her into staying away much longer than she had wished. It was simply wonderful to be back with Henry and Lizzy in her home church.

The sermon ended a short time later. Cassandra always managed to miss notes, but she still sang out with all her heart, giving praise to the God who had brought her to this place.

When they exited the church, Henry ended up beside her in the aisle. She turned to him, her eyes still a bit wet, and waited for him to look down.

“It’s definitely official, Henry. I’m home.”

Henry smiled his kind smile, the one he usually had for her, the one that didn’t need words.

“How is Anne today, Weston?” Lydia Palmer asked, snagging Weston as he walked from church.

“She’s doing well but wishing she could be here.”

“I can well imagine. Please tell her that I’m going to visit this week. Is any day not good for you?”

“Judith is coming Tuesday. Will another day work?”

“Yes, I’ll come Thursday. Send word if that isn’t convenient. Is morning or afternoon best?”

“She tends to sleep off and on. Come whenever you like.”

“All right. I have something for the baby that I was going to give to her later, but perhaps it will cheer her up.”

Weston smiled. “Thank you, Lydia. I know she’ll appreciate your visit.”

Lydia had no more than finished when several other people stopped to ask after Anne. That she was loved by the church family was more than evident. Weston smiled as he rode home, knowing such a report would do her heart a world of good.

Pembroke

“I have new notes for you.”

“More on Jonah?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to hearing them.”

“And Anne Weston has been put on bed rest,” Harriet said. Home from church and sitting down to lunch, she was filling Tate in on all the news. “I don’t think you’ve met the Westons, but things have suddenly gotten a bit rocky with Anne’s first pregnancy.”

“Is Weston’s first name Robert?”

“I believe it is, yes.”

“I think I know him from London.”

“Now that you mention it,” Harriet’s brow creased with thought, “I think he said that very thing to me when we met.”

“I didn’t know he had married.”

“I believe it’s recent—just last year.”

Tate brought his glass to his lips, having become practiced with the effort, and took a drink. When he set his glass back down, careful to miss the edge of his plate, he had a question for his aunt. This time there was no joke in his mind.

“Is Cassandra coming back tomorrow?”

“Coming back?”

“Yes, to read to me.”

In her surprise, Harriet took a moment to say, “I didn’t know you wanted her to.”

“I thought that might be the plan.”

“Not exactly, Tate,” Harriet began, her mind scrambling with how to explain. “You seemed to be getting down, Tate. I began to worry. I even talked to Dr Tilney about having someone come in each day and read to you.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said if we could find the right person, one who wouldn’t overtax you, then it might be helpful. But then you played that joke on me, and I decided to tease you back, thinking you didn’t really need a daily diversion after all.”

“That all makes perfect sense, but I ended up enjoying Cassandra’s reading, Aunt Harriet. I wish her to come back.”

“And what of your rest?”

“She’s very restful. When I got over the joke, I simply listened to her read and found it most soothing.”

Harriet was stunned. Her silence told Tate as much, but he was quite serious.

“Will you ask her, or should I dictate a note to Hastings?”

“I’ll certainly ask her for you, but I don’t know what she’ll say.”

“Well, that’s up to her,” Tate responded pragmatically. “At least you’ll be able to say you tried.”

Still a little shocked by this turn of events, Harriet was quiet for a time, but then she remembered how much she liked Cassandra Steele and how willing the young woman had been to help out and go along with the joke.

Maybe she’s what we all need right now, Lord. I asked You to help me know, and Tate is now requesting her return. I don’t think You can make it any clearer than that.

Newcomb Park

“Why, Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy said with pleasure on seeing her. “Please come in.”

“I’m sorry to come unannounced, Elizabeth. It’s most rude of me.”

“Not at all. Cassie and I were about to enjoy a midmorning cup of tea. Can you join us?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you. Hello, Cassandra.”

“Hello, Mrs Thorpe,” the younger Steele sister greeted her as she entered the room. “Are you joining us for tea?”

“Your sister just invited me, yes.”

“I’m glad. You can tell us how your joke worked.”

“A little too well,” Mrs Thorpe said with a laugh while the three made themselves comfortable. “Mr Tate wants you to come back.”

The looks on Cassandra’s and Lizzy’s faces were comical. Harriet laughed a little and waited while they exchanged a look.

“Do tell, Mrs Thorpe,” Lizzy put in. “We beg of you.”

Harriet gave them every detail, and they laughed at how well she pulled it off.

“But then,” she went on, “Tate asked in complete seriousness if Cassandra was going to keep coming. I worried that it might be too much for him, but he said he found it very soothing.” The older woman shrugged, looking as helpless as she felt. “I told him I would ask.”

“Well, of course I will, Mrs Thorpe. I don’t think I can come every day, but I would be happy to help in any way possible.”

Harriet stared at her, gratitude in every line of her being. “I liked you the moment I met you, Cassandra Steele. I can’t thank you enough for this. Tate has done remarkably well, but it will be weeks before the doctor allows the patches off. I fear he feels completely cut off from everything.”

“He was very kind,” Cassandra said, thinking back. “I could tell he was amused, but he handled himself very well. Not an easy task when you can’t see.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Certainly. Is tomorrow soon enough to start?”

“Tomorrow is wonderful.”

The Steele sisters smiled at her. Harriet had done nothing to disguise the relief in her voice, and both Lizzy and Cassandra found this highly amusing.

The three of them enjoyed a cup of tea together and talked about the different people they knew in common. Before Harriet left, however, she made sure that Cassandra understood what she’d first told her about Tate’s need for rest.

“He’s been very careful, but should you ever sense that Tate has overtaxed himself with your presence, err to the side of caution and leave.”

“I’ll plan on that.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Cassandra.”

The youngest Steele smiled sweetly, not needing to be thanked again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, tomorrow.”

Harriet took her leave a short time later, and when the two sisters were alone, they both speculated as to what Cassandra might have gotten herself into.

Chapter Four

The Manse

“How are you this morning?”

Judith Hurst’s eyes had only just opened, but Frederick Hurst was very close by. For two hours he had been waiting to ask the question, but knowing what a rough night she’d had, he’d kept quiet until she stirred.

“I think I’m better,” she answered slowly, her hand going to her aching stomach. She had been terribly ill in the night and now felt drained and weak, but not nauseous.

“Do you want anything, dear?” Frederick asked.

“Maybe a bit of tea.”

Phoebe, the housekeeper at the manse, had anticipated this and kept the pot fresh. Frederick was able to pour her some immediately. Judith was taking her first sips when the door creaked open a bit. Jane peeked in, her face anxious.

“Come in, Jane,” Pastor Hurst called to his oldest daughter and then chuckled to see that all four of the children were waiting to see their mother. They gathered close to the edge of the bed, all eyes staring at their mother in wonder. She was rarely ill, and
never
bedridden. It was a new experience for all.

“What day is it, Frederick?” Judith asked, once she’d assured the children that she was not dying.

“Tuesday.”

“Oh, no.” Her voice was weak, but her eyes showed her dismay. “Will you please get word to Anne that I won’t make it?”

“Of course I will, and you know she’ll understand, Judith.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I do wish I could go.”

“Ask someone else, Mother,” Margaret suggested. “Maybe Jane and I could go.”

“That’s lovely of you to offer, Margaret, but not this time.

I do like your idea, however, of asking someone else. Maybe I’ll send word to Lydia Palmer or Elizabeth Steele.”

This was precisely what Judith, with her husband’s help, ended up doing. First they sent word to Anne, letting her know Judith was ill. They then let Lizzy know of the situation, in hopes that she could pay a visit instead. Beyond sending word, Judith knew she could do little else. In fact, right now she was too weak to care.