Page 21 of Into the Starlight (Secrets of Sweetwater Crossing #3)
Chapter Twenty-One
Joanna was thankful she and Burke were taking their nightly walk, because she didn’t want anyone to overhear what she was about to tell him. She couldn’t explain it, but when she’d left Miss Heppel’s house, her first thought had been that she wanted his advice about what she’d seen. In the past, she would have confided in one or both of her sisters, but she doubted they’d understand how deeply the scene had affected her. Burke would. She knew that instinctively.
When they reached the end of the drive, she started to turn right as they did most evenings, but Burke shook his head. “Let’s go the opposite way.”
Where they walked didn’t matter, but Joanna couldn’t stop herself from asking why he was changing their routine.
“Harold’s planning to ask Della to walk with him tonight. They’ll probably go that way.”
Thoughts began to whirl through Joanna’s brain. As far as she knew, the older couple had never strolled after supper. “Do you know why he wants to go walking?”
A small shrug was Burke’s initial response. “I do,” he admitted, “but I can’t betray a confidence. I imagine you’ll hear about it later tonight.”
The smile she heard in his voice answered her question. “If the reason is what I think it is, it’ll be wonderful news.”
“It just might be. Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I didn’t realize it was so obvious.” Joanna had done her best to appear unconcerned during supper.
“Your sisters didn’t seem to notice.”
“But you did.” That was part of the reason she wanted to confide in Burke. He understood her better than her own family did. “You’re right. I saw something today that disturbed me, and I wanted your reaction.”
“Something about your new house?”
“Yes.” When Burke’s footsteps slowed, Joanna shook her head. The story would be easier to tell if she was walking, the rhythm of moving first one foot then the other helping her keep her thoughts in order. “I was surprised—shocked would be a better word—by what I found.” And she still was. When she’d finished her explanation, Joanna asked, “What do you make of it?”
They’d turned onto East Street and had reached Miss Heppel’s house. Burke stopped, gazed at it for a second, then resumed his normal pace. “I’m not sure. It could be coincidence, but like you, I doubt it. It could be that the wainscoting and crown molding were left over from the construction and Clive gave them to Miss Heppel’s parents. He may have ordered extra pieces after some were stolen.”
“But that doesn’t explain the books and the night table. Those couldn’t have been extras.” As much as Joanna wished there were an innocent explanation, she could not find one. “I believe these are the things Clive told Della were missing and the reason the house took longer to finish than he’d hoped.”
“I suspect you’re right. I didn’t know either Miss Heppel or her parents, but I’m as puzzled as you about why they would have stolen anything. And if they did steal, why wouldn’t they have taken enough for a whole room, not just one wall?”
Joanna tried to recall everything Miss Heppel had told her. “Her father died around the time Clive came to Sweetwater Crossing, and her mother had to sell the livery. It’s possible they needed money, but since it appears they kept everything rather than try to sell it, that doesn’t make sense.” Joanna paused. “I wonder whether I should say anything to Della.”
“You could tell her what you found, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Burke’s voice was soft but firm. “She told me she’s finally put the past behind her.”
Joanna nodded. “Della said the same thing to me.”
“I can’t imagine what would be gained by showing her the room or even telling her about it.”
“Then you’d recommend saying nothing to anyone.” As far as Joanna knew, no one had been in Miss Heppel’s bedroom, because she’d been buried in the dress she was wearing Sunday morning and visitors to the house would have had no reason to enter her private chamber.
Though the evening was not cold, Joanna shivered and drew her shawl closer as she looked up at Burke, waiting for his response.
“It has to be your decision,” he told her, “but that’s my advice.”
It was good advice. There was, however, another problem. “I’m not sure I can sleep in that room. It feels strange and almost eerie to me.”
The bed was positioned so that the last thing she saw each night and the first thing to catch her eye each morning would be the wall with the wainscoting and crown molding. Unfortunately, the size of the room made rearranging the furniture impossible.
Burke slowed his pace, perhaps sensing the turbulence of her thoughts. “I can understand that, but you’ll need a bedroom if you’re going to live there. Even if you used the other room and turned that one into the nursery, you’d still have to go in there. It wouldn’t take too much effort to remove the wainscoting and crown molding and paint that wall a new color. You could even cover all of them with wallpaper. That would give the whole room a new appearance.”
Once again, Burke had good ideas. Joanna had been so distressed by the sight of items from Finley House that she hadn’t thought of ways to change the room. “I could donate the books to the library or put them in the Finley House library. The night table can go into the attic.” Perhaps at some point in the future, she’d give it to someone who would appreciate a piece of fine furniture.
“Would that make you comfortable living there?”
“I believe it would. The rest of the house suits me well, and if I make those changes, I’ll be able to enjoy all of it.” Joanna tightened her grip on Burke’s arm, wanting to show her appreciation. “Thank you. I knew you’d be able to help me.”
“I’m glad I could and that your future is becoming more settled. Did Harold ask you to serve as church pianist?”
Feeling more comfortable than she had since they’d begun walking, Joanna resumed their original pace. It was a beautiful evening, one she wanted to enjoy.
“Yes, and I agreed.”
“I thought you would.” Burke’s response was immediate. “What I don’t know is how you feel about the position. Playing hymns in a small church is not the same as playing secular music in a concert hall.”
Rather than remind Burke that that dream had died, Joanna said, “You’re right. I won’t be performing, but I might be doing something even better. When I climbed the loft stairs this afternoon and sat in front of the piano, I felt closer to my father than I have since I left Sweetwater Crossing.”
She’d gone there directly from Miss Heppel’s house, hoping she’d find a measure of peace, and she had. “I could picture Father smiling and saying he was proud that I’d chosen to serve God that way. It’s true that hymns are not as challenging as the music I played in Europe, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t touch people. They do.”
Burke laid his hand on top of hers and gave it a small squeeze. “I agree. My mother once told me that if people made a difference—a positive difference—in one person’s life, their own lives were a success. By serving as the pianist, you have the opportunity to influence many more than one.”
The wistful tone of Burke’s voice told Joanna he was thinking of Dr. Fielding and wondering why he hadn’t received a response. “So do you, Burke. More importantly, you’ve already done what your mother said. You’ve made a difference in more than one life. Just ask Louisa or Herb Oberle. You’re a success.”
Burke shook his head. “I don’t feel like one. It’s not only what happened to Mrs. Arnold. I keep thinking that God intends me to do more than treat individual illnesses.”
“There’s time.”
“Maybe.” The way Burke pronounced the word made Joanna suspect he meant to say “no.” “I don’t want to sound morbid, but we never know how much time we have. What I do know is it’s time to see if Harold and Della have returned.”
“Harold told me he asked for your permission to marry me.” More than a hint of amusement colored Della’s voice.
“He did, and of course I said yes.” Burke paused for a second, savoring the happiness he saw on Della’s face. After everyone had congratulated him and Della, Harold had remained for another half hour, then took his leave when Emily’s yawn made it clear that she needed to sleep. Though Burke had expected Della to accompany the others upstairs, she’d remained in the parlor, her expression telling him she wanted some time with him.
“I imagine my response was as quick as yours,” he told her. The flush that stole its way onto Della’s cheeks confirmed Burke’s suppositions.
“Harold and I are both old enough to know our minds. There was no reason to make him wait for my answer.” She wrinkled her nose. “The hardest part will be waiting almost two months for our wedding. I would have married him tomorrow, but Harold wanted me to have enough time to settle everything back home.” A chuckle accompanied Della’s words. “I don’t know why I called Samuels home. It no longer feels like that to me. Home is where Harold is, and that’s here.”
“But he’s right. You do have things to settle, like your house.”
Leaning forward ever so slightly, Della said, “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I’d always thought I’d give you the house, but I can’t picture you returning there, not with everything that’s happened.”
Burke’s honorary aunt was even more perceptive than he’d realized. “You’re right. I can’t imagine doing that either. I sent Felix a letter yesterday, telling him the practice is his.” Even if Dr. Fielding did not accept Burke as his assistant, he knew that Samuels would never again be his home.
Della studied him for a moment. “Are you certain?” When Burke nodded, she said, “Then you won’t mind if I sell my house to Felix and Edna, will you? I won’t make it an outright gift as I would have for you, but I’ll set the price so low that they won’t refuse.”
“Why? I thought you didn’t approve of Felix.”
Della shook her head. “I didn’t approve of him as your partner. But, as you said, he’s a good doctor. Samuels needs him, so I might as well give him and Edna a reason to stay.”
“You think of everything, don’t you?”
Another shake of the head was Della’s first response. “I still haven’t found the way to get you to admit that you’re in love.”
As Burke placed his hymnal back in the rack, he reflected that today’s service had been different from the previous ones in several important ways. First, and most noticeably, Joanna was no longer seated next to him but was in the loft with the piano. And because she was, the hymns were more beautiful than before. Miss Heppel had been a competent pianist, but Joanna’s playing was far superior. She made the keys sing, or so it seemed to Burke.
That wasn’t the only difference. Ever since she and Harold had returned from their walk Friday evening and announced their engagement, Burke hadn’t seen Della without a smile. Her happiness must have been contagious, because everyone at Finley House was in better spirits than Burke had ever seen them.
And then there was Harold. Though he’d tried to maintain a solemn mien during the service, his gaze continued to return to Della, and each time, the corners of his mouth would curve upward. The man was besotted. No doubt about it.
Harold cleared his throat. “Before I conclude today’s service, I have two announcements. The first is that Mrs. Joanna Richter, whom many of you knew when she was Joanna Vaughn, has agreed to be our pianist. I hope you’ll join me in thanking her.”
Though it was normally frowned upon, almost everyone turned to smile in the direction of the loft.
“My second announcement is more personal.” This time Harold made no effort to hide his happiness. “I am honored to tell you that Miss Della Samuels has agreed to be my wife. We hope you’ll all be with us as we are joined in marriage on December 26.”
The spontaneous applause left no question that the town was pleased. And if anyone found it inappropriate for Della to stand next to the minister to accept congratulations as the congregation filed out of the sanctuary, no one said a word. Today’s was a service few would forget.
While the rest of the Finley House residents left the church, Burke remained at the back of the sanctuary, waiting for Joanna to come down from the loft. She’d explained that, although it had not been done in the past, she intended to play a hymn—she referred to it as a recessional—while the parishioners walked outside. Only when the last one had departed would she leave the piano.
Though he’d expected to be alone, a man clapped him on the shoulder. “Finley.”
Mayor Alcott made Burke’s name sound like an epithet. He had no idea what he’d done to alienate the man, but their every encounter had included barely concealed hostility.
“I don’t like to conduct business on a Sunday, but folks have been pressuring me. They want a permanent doctor. Louisa does what she can, but she’s not a real doctor, and even if she were, few men would consult her. The town needs a man.”
When Burke did not respond to the mayor’s assertion, he continued. “Folks urged me to advertise for a new doctor before you arrived, but now they’re calling on me to convince you to be that doctor. Will you?”
Alcott’s expression reminded Burke of a small boy who’d bitten into a sour lemon. While others might want Burke to remain, the mayor did not. Still, the request was a logical one, especially now that Della would become a permanent resident. Most people would assume that Burke would want to remain with her. Under some circumstances, he would have, but he wouldn’t hold out any false hopes to the mayor.
“I appreciate everyone’s faith in me,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Alcott as he stressed the word everyone , “but I can’t make that commitment.”
“Why not?” The question verged on pugnacious, telling Burke the pressure on the mayor was intense. Unwilling to discuss his hopes with this man, Burke said, “I applied for another position and am waiting to see whether I was accepted.”
Alcott’s eyes narrowed, and Burke saw a hint of relief in them. The townspeople couldn’t blame the mayor if Burke received another offer.
“I’ll give you until December to make up your mind.”
It should have been a conciliatory statement, but it sounded more like a threat.
Joanna’s heart was overflowing as she descended the loft steps. Her first Sunday as church pianist had been even more rewarding than she’d anticipated. Every note she’d played had felt as if it was coming directly from her heart, and the sound of voices singing in harmony had brought tears to her eyes. Burke had been wrong when he’d said she wouldn’t be performing in a concert hall. This was God’s concert hall, with every note dedicated to his glory.
“You look happy,” Burke said when she reached him.
“I am. This last hour was one of the happiest of my life.” The accolades she’d received in Europe faded in comparison with the satisfaction she’d felt playing simple hymns. And then there was the reflected glow of others’ joy.
“I’m so happy for Della and Harold,” she told Burke as he escorted her out of the church. “Seeing them together makes me wish I’d been here when my sisters were falling in love. My heart sings when I see the way Della and Harold look at each other.”
Burke’s smile widened. “Besotted. That’s the way I describe it. My sisters had the same look when they were being courted. I imagine you and your husband did too.”
Had they? Joanna’s steps faltered when she realized she could not recall Kurt looking at her the way Harold gazed at Della. Had he? Had she had stars in her eyes? Again, Joanna could not remember. What she did recall was her excitement over the prospect of leaving the sanatorium and starting a life with Kurt. They’d planned to visit his parents in Germany, then come to Sweetwater Crossing. Only after they’d spent time in both places would they decide where to make their permanent home.
The one thing Joanna knew for certain was that neither she nor Kurt had been besotted. They’d cared deeply for each other, but their marriage had been based on the desire to help each other heal, not on what some might call a grand passion.
Rather than tell Burke all that, Joanna said simply, “Even though it’s been only a few months, my memories have faded, and that makes me feel guilty. I don’t even have a picture of him.” She still hoped that Marta would send her a daguerreotype, but there had been no word from her sister-in-law after that one letter.
“What will I tell Kurt’s son when he asks about his father?”
“That you loved him. That’s what my mother told me when I asked. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to satisfy me.”
And if it satisfied Burke, perhaps it would satisfy Joanna’s child. “I don’t know how you do it, Burke, but you always know the right thing to say.”
His lips twisted in a wry smile. “I’m not certain the mayor would agree. It obviously pained him to ask me to become the town’s permanent doctor, and his displeasure increased when I wouldn’t give him a definitive answer.”
“Mayor Alcott has always been prickly.”
Burke raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you describe him? I might not have been so charitable. But rest assured that whether or not I stay will have nothing to do with his persuasive ability.”
That sounded as if Burke hadn’t completely dismissed the idea of remaining in Sweetwater Crossing. Though she tried to keep her expression neutral, Joanna’s heart leapt at the possibility. “Are you considering it if Dr. Fielding is so misguided as to refuse to hire you?”
“I like the way you phrased that—misguided. I’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t accept me. To answer your question, I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.”
“You won’t have to make that decision. I’m confident he’ll want your help.” And when Burke left, there would be a hole—a huge hole—in Joanna’s life.