A Home at Trail's End (34 page)

“Oh, they are not married, dear,” Mrs. Holmes said quietly. “It's not legal, you know.”

“Yes, I realize that. But I suspect they consider themselves married, don't you?”

She looked uncertain. “Well, I don't know. That all happened shortly before the reverend and I arrived here.”

“So you don't know Charles then?”

“Certainly, I know him. Our families have been friends for quite some time.”

“Were you shocked when you heard the news about him?”

“I was a bit surprised. But then I'd heard that happens sometimes. Especially in the frontier, where the white men often outnumber the white women and, well, you understand how it can be.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Do you think that's how it was for Charles?”

“To be honest, I don't rightly know. Martha hasn't told me all the particulars. I suppose I've come to my own conclusions.”

“What sort of man is Charles? I mean what sort of character?”

Her brow creased. “Oh, I always felt he was a fine young man. Charming and well-spoken and polite. Although Roland always felt that Charles was a bit willful. And he said that Charles had wild oats to sow.”

Elizabeth nodded. “What are Mrs. Levine's feelings toward Charles now? Is their relationship broken beyond repair?”

“Oh, no, not at all. Martha loves Charles. Truth be told, I believe he was her favorite son. She calls him her prodigal, and I suspect if he asked to come home, she would welcome him with open arms.”

“And his wife and child too?”

Mrs. Holmes put her hand over her lips.

“I take it that his wife and child would not be welcome in her home?”

“Oh, dear. I'm not sure what Martha would do. As a good Christian woman, she might wish to take in the woman and child, but she would be putting herself and her family in harm's way if she did.”

“What would happen to her?”

“Goodness, I'm not altogether certain.” Mrs. Holmes looked distressed.

“Are there people in our settlement who would make trouble for her?”

Mrs. Holmes simply nodded. “I'm afraid so.”

“Would their actions be legal?”

“Legal?” She sighed. “In the frontier, there are laws…and then there are other laws, if you get my meaning.”

“I think I do.”

Mrs. Holmes peered curiously at her now. “Why are you asking these questions, dear? Why are you so interested in the Levines?”

Elizabeth had prepared an honest answer for this. “Being a newcomer here, I want a better understanding of my community,” she explained. “I know that the Indians have been removed from these parts. And I'd heard bits and pieces about Charles Levine. I was simply curious as to the local sentiments.”

“The local sentiments are divided. There are a few settlers who felt that removing the Indians was unfair and unkind, but they are not a majority. They believed that the Indians, for the most part, were peaceful—just like we believe that the settlers, for the most part, are peaceful. However, it only takes a handful of angry men to stir things up. And that is what happened.”

“Would you and the reverend be in the minority of folks who hold no ill feelings toward the Indians?”

“We do believe that the Indians, like us, were created by God—in his image. Certainly, they are different from us. But they are not savages like some people claim.”

“I'm relieved to know that, Mrs. Holmes.”

“But be assured, this is not something that you will hear the reverend mention from the pulpit,” she said firmly. “Don't expect him to.”

“Why not?”

“He tried to voice his concerns. He'd seen and heard some things that were disturbing—some of it was related to Charles and his Indian woman. Roland preached on the subject shortly after our arrival here.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, his sermon led to some severe disagreements, and the church nearly came to an end.”

“I see.”

“It has been a source of frustration for him.”

“I can imagine.”

“I hope that you will keep my confidence in these matters.” Mrs. Holmes' brow creased. “I don't usually speak so freely about such things. And Roland might not approve.”

“You can trust me to not say a word.” She eyed the older woman. “I feel certain I can trust you too.”

She nodded. “If you would like to become better acquainted with Mrs. Levine, I would be happy to arrange for us to meet. Perhaps you could come for tea.”

“Or perhaps you and Mrs. Levine would like to come to my house for tea.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, my. That would be delightful.”

And so they set a date. The two women would come for tea on Tuesday morning at ten. “Unless it is raining,” Elizabeth said. “In that case, I will understand.”

“Then I shall pray that Tuesday breaks with no rain.”

“And if it does rain on Tuesday, why don't we plan on Wednesday, whichever day is fair?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Holmes smiled. “I like that plan.”

“And speaking of rain, I see that the sun is out. I think I'll make a run for it and gather up my mother and daughter and hurry on home.”

As Elizabeth went back to the mercantile, she wondered what she was getting herself into. Did she really intend to let Mrs. Levine know that her granddaughter was living nearby? No, Elizabeth decided, she could not betray Mara like that. First she would have to become thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. Levine. She would have to find out the woman's true character. Then she would try to do whatever was best for Mara and Rose.

Chapter Twenty-Six

T
he ladies were unable to come for tea until Wednesday. But thankfully, the day broke sunny and clear, and at just a bit past ten, Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Levine showed up at her door.

“Welcome,” Elizabeth said warmly. “Isn't it a fine day we're having?”

“It most certainly is,” Mrs. Holmes said as she removed her bonnet.

“I hardly needed my shawl,” Mrs. Levine told her.

“I cannot believe it's December,” Elizabeth said. “It feels more like springtime to me.” The three women made polite small talk as Elizabeth showed them through her home. Both of her visitors were suitably impressed. After Malinda's moody evaluations the previous week, Elizabeth appreciated her guests' kind and appreciative comments. Soon they were seated at the table, which was set just as grand as it had been for Malinda, and Elizabeth was pouring tea.

“It's such a pleasure getting to know you better, Mrs. Levine.” Elizabeth handed her the plate of sugar cookies that she and Ruth had made the other day.

“Please, dear, if I am to keep calling you Elizabeth, you must call me Martha.” She smiled. “After all, this is the frontier. We don't have to be overly prim and proper out here.”

“And if you're going to call her Martha, it's about time you started calling me Georgia,” Mrs. Holmes said.

“Thank you.”

“I told Martha that you were curious about her son Charles,” Georgia said a bit carefully.

“And naturally that aroused my curiosity,” Martha admitted. “But Georgia assured me that you had no ill motives.”

“Not at all,” she told her. “In fact, you and I have some commonalities I believe. First I thought it was because we were widows, but when I learned more about Charles, well, I felt that I could take you into my confidence.” She glanced at Georgia. “And I know I can trust you as well.”

“Certainly.” Georgia nodded.

Elizabeth had told Eli her plan several days ago, and he had given her his blessing to tell his story. “You see, my dear husband has had an experience similar to your son Charles,” she said to Georgia. “And I felt it might comfort you to hear about it.” And now she told them the story of how Eli had rescued the Indian woman and how her people had helped him and how Eli had fallen in love and married the woman.

“My goodness,” Georgia exclaimed. “I had no idea.”

“And they had a child,” she told her spellbound guests. “A son.” She described how happy the young family had been, how much at home Eli had felt with her people. And finally she explained how the mother and child had both died from a white man's disease. “Eli was brokenhearted over it.”

“Oh, my.” Martha wiped her damp eyes with her handkerchief.

“Such a sad tale.” Georgia sniffed.

“Now I wouldn't share this story with just anyone,” Elizabeth said to Martha. “But after hearing more about Charles and how much you love him, I felt that you especially needed to hear it.”

Martha nodded. “I do believe I did need to hear it. Although it's a sad story, it does give this mother's heart hope. I admire your husband, Elizabeth. If he made a mistake like that but is living such a fine life now, well, it gives me hope for Charles.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. This was not exactly the response she was looking for. “Eli did not consider his first marriage to be a mistake, Martha. He loved his first wife.”

“Oh, well, yes…I suppose he thought he did. But don't you think his life would have been mighty complicated—wouldn't it have made things more difficult if his wife and child had survived?”

“Certainly, it would be more difficult for me.” Elizabeth frowned. “But that's not my point. What I'm saying is that Eli is a good man. And I believe your Charles is a good man too.”

“Yes, yes, he most certainly is,” Martha assured her. “He was always a good boy. A little lively at times, but he had a good heart.”

“And marrying an Indian woman doesn't make him less good, does it?”

“That all depends on who you're talking to.” Martha shook her head. “Some folks round here would just as soon a man marry his horse rather than an Indian woman.”

“Oh, Martha.” Georgia shook her head with disapproval.

“It's true and you know it.” Martha frowned. “And some folks have good reason to dislike Indians.” She launched into a horrible story about how the Indians staged a brutal attack in the Rogue River War. “And that was just a couple of years ago.”

“And wasn't that why the Indians got moved up north?” Elizabeth asked. “Although they didn't just move the warriors, but innocent women and children as well.”

“That's true,” Martha confirmed. “But I'm sure the women wanted to be with their men. But for all we know some of those same violent Indian warriors could still be lurking anywhere—even in these parts. I don't think the trouble with the Indians is over by any means.”

Elizabeth studied Martha. She didn't seem to be a hateful woman, but she was apparently overly fearful of Indians. And yet how could she possibly be afraid of anyone as harmless as Mara or Rose? “Your son has a child, doesn't he?”

Martha made an uncertain nod. “Yes…I heard there was a baby, although I've never seen it. To be honest, I'm not sure I would want to see it.”

“Your own grandchild?”

She twisted her handkerchief. “I just don't see what good could come of it.”

Georgia patted Martha's hand. “You are caught between a rock and a hard place, my dear.”

“I'm sorry to be so persistent about this,” Elizabeth said as she refilled their teacups. “More than anything, I want you to realize that you are not alone. Eli and I have great compassion for you, Martha. And we want you to know that we are your friends. And if Charles should ever return from—from wherever he has gone—we would treat him as a friend as well.”

Martha smiled. “That is a great comfort to me, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

Feeling a bit guilty for being so intrusive, Elizabeth was determined that the duration of their tea party would remain cheerful and uplifting. They shared funny stories about their children and compared ailments and just laughed like girls together. And by the time the ladies left, Elizabeth felt certain that a strong friendship was being forged. However, she did not feel certain that Martha would welcome an Indian daughter-in-law and granddaughter.