The Widower's Wife (16 page)

Jillian was hanging laundry to dry on the clothesline when Uncle Ned and Aunt Betty rode up in the wagon with the children. They had gone into Willow Springs to get supplies and had taken the children, who were overjoyed to go with them. She quickly wiped the tears away from her eyes. She had hoped that she and Dalton could talk while they were gone, but before she could think of an excuse to detain him, he had left as soon as he could after breakfast, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She was finding it more difficult with each passing day to hide her feelings of hurt at his avoidance. She knew that somehow they had both come to the same conclusion—if they stayed away from each other, Jenny would not have another setback. But Jillian felt that Jenny had finally accepted her and didn’t think that Jenny would react to their relationship the way she had before.

Jenny hopped down from the wagon and ran over to Jillian, smiling. What a change had overcome her, indeed!

“Ma, we stopped at the post office, and two letters were waiting for you!” Jenny held out the letters as if they were prizes for Jillian to see.

Jillian hung up the last article of clothing and dried her hands on her apron. She had been hoping a letter would come soon. She corresponded with her mother on a regular basis and had even received a few letters from Bethany, who was busy in school trying to get her teaching degree. She had also written to Marcus several times, but he hadn’t written back. Her mother had said he was extremely busy with work, having recently achieved a promotion, but Jillian feared the rift between her and Marcus would never be repaired—a rift that was just one more thing the abominable Nathan Shaw had done to destroy happiness in her life. She prayed that one of those letters would be from her brother.

Jillian smiled back at Jenny as she took the letters. The first was from her mother, and to her great relief, the other was from Marcus! There was simply no mistaking his familiar handwriting. She was eager to read them, but she did not want to be rude. Uncle Ned and Aunt Betty had been watching the children all day. She needed to invite them in for some refreshments. She slipped the letters into her apron pocket to enjoy later.

“Come on in the house,” she told them. “I have a loaf of sweet bread hot out of the oven, the milk is chilled, and I think a snack will do us all good. You can all tell me what’s happening in town.” Jillian was still uncomfortable going to town herself for fear she might run into Sarah Bingham or one of her cronies. When Aunt Betty offered to fetch some needed supplies and to take the children with her, Jillian had jumped to accept.

Everyone filed into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Jillian sent the children off to wash their hands, giving them strict instructions to clean them well. Jenny took Brenn with her to clean him up. Meanwhile, Jillian poured the milk and sliced the bread for everyone. Then she sat down and joined them.

Aunt Betty watched Jillian closely. The girl still had a troubled look on her face at times, even when she was with the children, which was normally when she was the happiest. Betty knew things had changed for the worse between Dalton and Jillian since the picnic, but she couldn’t figure out how to help them. She was determined to speak to Dalton and find out what was going on in that stubborn mule head of his.

Jenny, on the other hand, had done a total turnabout. Betty was so pleased to see her smiling, playing, and enjoying life again. Jillian didn’t tell her what exactly had happened to bring about Jenny’s change of heart—she just hinted that it had been inspired. Betty’s heart told her that somehow, Laurellyn must have had something to do with it. She often felt that Laurellyn was watching over her small family. And if the number of prayers Betty sent up on their behalf counted, she was sure God was well aware of their needs.

“Did you enjoy having some time to yourself?” Betty finally asked Jillian.

“Yes, thank you.” The young woman smiled, but her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

“You’ll be glad to know you avoided a run-in with Mavis Bingham and that awful daughter of hers. She asked about you, ya know.” This seemed to get Jillian’s full attention, and she waited for Betty to continue. “Miss Sarah wanted to know how you’d been doin’ since the picnic, said somethin’ about how she didn’t know you were standin’ there. I just told her that I hadn’t a clue what she was talkin’ about. I told her that you and Dalton were as happy as two lovebirds could be. I went on and on sayin’ somethin’ about how could you not be the luckiest woman in the world with him bein’ so attentive and all. Then I told her that if I had to witness you two smoochin’ one more time, that I was going to threaten to go home and not come back for six months.” She smiled boldly at Jillian’s surprised face. “Well, I may have embellished things a little, but as soon as was possible, I asked the Lord for forgiveness.” She put on her most innocent face. “I was hopin’ that would be the end of it, but then she had the audacity to ask me to convey to you an invitation to her house for tea the next time you were in town.” Aunt Betty shook her head in disgust. “Never did care for that girl. She was always pawin’ after Dalton before he was married to my Laurellyn, even though Dalton always made it plain as day that he wasn’t interested in anyone else but my girl. Then when Laurellyn passed on, rest her soul, that terrible girl started right up after Dalton again.” She thought it best to give Jillian a warning then. “I wouldn’t trust her if I were you, Jillian. She’s always playin’ at somethin’. She only ever has her own welfare in mind. You won’t be acceptin’ any invitations to tea from her, if you know what’s best for you. Goin’ to town would be a lot more pleasant if I could guarantee that she and that awful mother of hers were out of it!”

Jillian let out a small laugh. The girl had the most beautiful sounding laugh. All too soon, the troubled look came back into her eyes. Betty frowned and thought again of Dalton.
I need to have a talk with that nephew of mine
, she decided,
and the sooner the better. Somebody needs to talk some sense into that boy before it’s too late
. Betty understood their hesitation as it regarded Jenny, but the little girl was finally doing great! She couldn’t comprehend what the problem was now. She nudged Uncle Ned with her elbow. He’d been blissfully enjoying his snack and entertaining the children.

“We best be gettin’ back—we still got afternoon chores to do.” She looked at Jillian. “Now you tell Dalton I said not to work too hard. The children were telling me they’ve hardly seen hide nor hair of their pa in the last couple weeks. A man’s got nothin’ if he hasn’t got his family.”

She grabbed Ned’s arm, pulling him out the door, and they headed for home, waving from the wagon as they rode away.

It was bedtime before Jillian got the chance to read her letters.

She opened the one from her mother first. Her mother always had a way of soothing Jillian’s soul and helping her find a personal reservoir of strength to draw from. Not knowing what Marcus had to say, she felt it wise to read her mother’s letter first.

My Dearest Jillian,

I hope this letter finds you and yours in good health. I so enjoyed your last letter. Lisa sounds like such a delightful child, so animated and vivacious, much how I remember you at that age.

As for little Brenn, who, I might add, sounds simply adorable, fear not, my dear. I can tell you from motherly experience that their taste for eating crawling creatures does forsake them at some point. Your brother tried to convince you to eat a worm when you were about Brenn’s age. You adored him as much then as you do now, and I fear you would have done it, just to please him. A pang of conscience, however, seized hold of him just in time, and you did not have to endure the vulgarity of that wiggly thing sliding down your throat.

It warms my heart to hear that you seem to be making some progress with Jenny. Just be patient, my love. The loss of a parent creates a deep wound that is not easily healed. It is better that she was not at a much older age when her mother passed, or I fear turning her heart to you would prove to be much more difficult. I’m confident it won’t be long before she’s following you around, adoring and treasuring you as do the other two children.

Now, my love, I wish to address you about another more intimate matter that has concerned me for some time now. You write mostly of the children but very seldom, if at all, mention their father.

You hinted to me in our last talk before you departed that the two of you had entered into to some sort of accordance as to the intimacy of your relationship after you married. You know my heart has grieved deeply at the pain you suffered at the hand of Mr. Nathan Shaw. I was not blind to the fact that he had been in your high esteem for quite some time. His lack of propriety, as well as the absence of his moral character, came as quite a shock to all of us having been familiar with him these many years. I know he hurt you, my love, most deeply and irreparably.

Your new husband has suffered great pains as well. Losing one’s spouse is an agony that cannot be compared to any other. When a man and woman share certain intimacies, their lives are bound in a way beyond just friendship. They no longer think of themselves as one individual, but they two are entwined, and their souls share an equal space.

Living with this man, raising his children at his side, and not sharing any of those intimacies set forth by God to renew and give strength in his sacred union of marriage, I fear you will never come to fully enjoy the blessing and joy that is meant to be, and your family will suffer for it.

What will he be to you when the children are raised and gone? What will you be to each other? Open your heart, Jillian. Listen to the whisperings of your soul. You will both heal sooner if you will let love happen. I love you, my daughter. My heart yearns for you to find true happiness in this life. I miss you so, every day. May God be with you and may you continue in good health and safety. Father sends his love and wishes me to tell you that he misses you terribly.

Ever,

Your Loving Mother

With tears in her eyes, Jillian folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She pondered on the wisdom in her mother’s words. She did want to open her heart again to love and knew Dalton had already found a place there, but her fear and the commitment she had made to him before they married held her back. She wished her mother was here. She recalled how her mother smelled of rose water, and how safe Jillian always felt as she had laid her head on her mother’s chest. Her mother had been and always would be such a comfort to her. She took a moment to savor her memories before opening the letter from Marcus. She would need to write her mother a letter again soon and let her know that her prediction about Jenny had come true.

With cautious excitement, she opened her brother’s letter.

Dear Jillian,

It is with great vigor that I chastise myself for not having sent correspondence sooner.

I fear it has taken much time to resign myself to the immense guilt and self-loathing I feel for being, at least in part, responsible for the incalculable pain and humiliation you have suffered at the hand of that fiend and coward, Nathan Shaw. With marked soberness, I regret the time forfeited and wasted in friendship with a man of such low moral standing. If I had had any idea of his poor character, indeed, I would not have recommended him to you.

I’ve also suffered much guilt over your decision to throw your life away, abandoning your dreams and consigning yourself to a loveless marriage due to your loss of trust and assurance in the credence of my gender. I worry about what your life has now become, burdened with caring for another man’s children and his household. I also fear other things I dare not think about.

I must say, though I am a most undeserving brother, that I miss you intensely, Little Sis. It is most unbearable to wake up each day, knowing that you will not be waiting at the breakfast table ready to receive my daily dose of teasing. I also find myself lacking anyone to be in my confidence. Who am I to gossip with about the empty-headed upper-class puppets and their constant need to boast of their frivolities?

I did, however, chance to run into Miss Bethany the other day at the university. I had forgotten quite entirely how much I enjoy teasing her, as well as that adorable blush of hers. She has not been to the house but once since you left, and that was immediately after she had returned home from her holiday in Newport. We have been in contact a few times since our meeting, which brings me to a very important question I need to put forward to you, dear sister.

Miss Bethany has asked—nay, I must say pleaded—that I request an opportunity to visit you at your home in Wisconsin. She misses you most ardently and is also quite concerned as to the state of your happiness. She has requested that I accompany her on such a trip during a break in her studies and I have agreed wholeheartedly. If you must know, Little Sis, I have spent many days worrying over your situation. I am most interested in making an acquaintance with Mr. Dalton McCullough and inquiring as to his treatment of my dear sister. Mr. Griffin, my superior at the bank, has indicated numerous times over these last months that I may take some time off, if needed. I have discreetly informed him of my concerns for you. I think he has grown quite fond of me and has granted my request for time away. We hope to leave within a fortnight, which unfortunately would not allow time for a return post from you. Will you grant us a visit, dear sister? You may send a telegram to the bank, and I will retrieve it there.