Page 28
“ C lara. I’ve bought you a present.” Mrs. Ramshaw dropped a bundle into her lap. “We’ve many weeks of winter ahead, and I hate to see you go stir-crazy. An early Christmas gift.”
Christmas. She’d nearly forgotten. Clara found the string and untied the package. Something poked through the paper. Sharp tips. She lay aside the wrappings and lifted them, long, slender and smooth. Like long pencils. Beneath the two pencils were soft balls. Knitting supplies—that was it.
“There’s more under the wool.”
Clara felt around the wool. Ribbon.
“Blue, like you wanted. I’ve taken the liberty of ripping out the green from your bonnet.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” She felt herself smiling.
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to knit with those idle hands of yours.”
Clara stroked the long needles. They reminded her of those old women she’d grown up seeing reclined on porches on fine days. Knitting. Always knitting. Must she give in? The thought repulsed, yet intrigued her.
“I’ll show you a stitch after supper. Oh, I almost forgot.
I’ll not make you suffer the likes of Mary Winters again.
Forgive me, Clara. I had no idea.” Her voice raised a notch.
“Another thing, and you may hate me for saying this, but if I wasn’t a Christian woman, I’d wallop your father. I’d give Lucy a piece of my mind too. ”
“Now I don’t know whether to love them—or hate them.”
“Oh child. I was wrong to speak as I did. I’ve got more than one resentful bone in my body and the Lord’s got to weed them out. Love them if you can. If you can’t, ask God for help. Apparently, I need to do the same. We mustn’t hate. Never that.”
The woman was kind, Clara dared not deny that.
Too kind actually. Enough so to set slaves free even those that didn’t belong to her.
..she hadn’t decided yet what to do yet with that knowledge.
Thankfully, she still had time. Morrie would be with them until after her child was born, that was certain.
It all depended. Her latest thought was to send Father a message that she had urgent news that could only be delivered in person.
She would meet her family in England, be rewarded for a thwarted theft.
And Lucy would certainly listen to reason.
And Christian could jump into the Thames, for all she cared.
DANIEL RUBBED A FINAL coat of light stain on the cherry cane and rested it in the corner to dry. It was beautiful. The best cane he’d ever carved. When he was young, a good attitude was all he needed to complete a project well.
This one had something more. He finally understood what his father had tried to teach him in his youth. Caring for others might be the result of duty, but only devotion turned the gift into hope. And love.
With actions that always had surprising outcomes. Everything one did in life mattered...How much one loved God, how much one was willing to love His other children...That mattered most.
He’d never felt the inner cry to love a certain woman. He’d blushed around more than one, especially Miss Gray. His mother had called him out as far too particular .
True, he’d written a list of qualifications when he was twenty. Mother had been appalled. Father had laughed and said, “You think you know what you need, but only God does.”
“But I based everything from Scripture. How can you make light of this?”
“Your list is unattainable for any human, let alone a woman.”
“She might at least strive for such perfection,” Daniel had said.
“Your list, how many rules are here, what? Twenty-seven? There are only ten commandments my boy.”
He had shrugged his shoulders, annoyed by the mocking tone.
“Twenty-seven stones to cast away every woman you meet,” His father’s merry eyes twitched in the firelight.
“You think I should make a new list?”
“Aye, you should. A short one.” His father held the paper close to the flame that glowed through the parchment, the words brightened. Good words, he had thought. They caught flame and quickly turned to ash. His time wasted.
His parents were supposed to be proud of their wise son.
“What would you put on the list, Father?” Perhaps he should have asked sooner.
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might. Love your neighbor as yourself. This, my son, is the best list. But it is your list. You live this list and wait patiently for Him to bring you a wife. And when He does, you’ll have no doubt.”
Daniel still had the new list. He’d kept it in his wallet for the past ten years. He gazed at the cane he’d carved for Clara.
Just the thought of courting her set his heart to thumping.
“I EXPECTED YOUR FATHER to inform you of my upcoming visit. Are you sure he never told you a thing?” Dr. Rosenthal’s voice sounded concerned.
“He did not inform me, though he might have written to me about it. Unfortunately, I cannot read my own letters, as you know.” Clara held herself erect.
Had Daniel somehow left out more information?
Memories of her last visit—she’d like to forget.
The feel of his face beneath her hands had been much too intimate. Though interesting.
“Perhaps he meant to tell you and forgot. Have you experienced any headaches of late?”
“Truthfully, Dr. Rosenthal, my only issue is blindness. If you haven’t a cure, then perhaps you are wasting our time.”
“My notes say you had a fever at the time of the fall.”
“After the fall, I think. I was hardly lucid.”
“How long were you ill?”
“A week? Two?”
“I’m not certain that a fall alone can cause your condition. I’m concerned that you’ve had an infection that was not properly dealt with. However, if it had...”
“You are saying that my blindness might have been prevented?” The thought singed.
“Your doctor is an old man, isn’t he?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Old men use old ways. I have a proposition for you, Miss Stanton.”
“A proposition?”
“Come back with me to Louisville. There is a new surgery. Mind you, I have never performed it myself, but I have seen it done many times.”
“Surgery?”
“Yes. ”
“You will cut around my eyes?” Her hand instinctively reached for them. She held them there without thinking. Protectively.
His hands took hers and pulled them down. He avoided her question.
“I might not succeed...”
Except a sliver of hope infused the moment. “I don’t know what to say. Does my father know?”
“I hope he has received the letter by now. I pray he does not object. Tip your head back and let me get a good look at your eyes. Lean this way,” he guided her, “into the sunlight.”
She followed the pressure of his hands, trusting, leaning.
“I can see that I’ve given you much to consider. Take your time. I will call again in the morning before I head home to Louisville. You might return with me. I thought while I was here, I’d take advantage of the healing springs. Does its magic work?”
Spring water? How could one think of water when a miracle might be at hand?
He gently squeezed one of her hands. “Then that is your prescription for the time being. I shall inform Mrs. Ramshaw.”
Clara grimaced. She’d been made to drink the stuff so much lately. Little good it did.
Table of Contents
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- Page 28 (Reading here)
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