A Searching Heart (14 page)

Once inside, heavy wraps removed and hung in the front hall closet, a warm fire glowing in the fireplace, and Belinda's offer of hot cider and her special ginger cookies made and accepted, the girl seemed to relax a bit. Virginia saw her give Rodney many little glances and wondered exactly what they were communicating.

“This is wonderful,” Virginia heard her whisper. “Just like you said.”

Rodney nodded and gave her a warm smile, edging just a bit closer to her.

“Rodney's in love,” Francine whispered giddily into Virginia's ear. Virginia gave her a stern look to hush her up.

“Grace has a few things to add under the tree,” Rodney informed them, and they left together to bring the items from the parcels they had carried from the train.

Gifts? That's what all the parcels were? Oh, dear, worried Virginia. I wonder if Mama thought to purchase something for her. I certainly didn't.

“I know you must be tired,” Belinda told Grace when the two returned. “It must have been a long day for you. Rodney, you can take Grace's things to Clara's room. Please”—she turned back to the young woman—“please make yourself at home. Sleep as long as you wish tomorrow morning, if you can. I know how exhausting university life can be. Especially exam week.”

The girl smiled one of her delightful smiles again. It made her face come alive and illuminated the color of her large blue-green eyes. “I am tired,” she admitted. “If you don't mind, I would like to retire early.”

Rodney rose to get her luggage and show her her room. He was soon back to join the family before the fire. Drew threw on another log and picked up the long poker to stir up the blaze. Belinda sat down with a cup of cider, a pensive look on her face.

Virginia was so full of questions that she thought she would burst, but she dared not voice any of them.

Francine had no such hesitations. “Is she rich?” she blurted out as soon as Rodney had seated himself beside his mother on the long sofa.

“Francine!” chided Belinda.

But Rodney responded without seeming to take offense. “Grace?”

“Yeah.”

“No. Well . . . yeah . . . sort of. I guess. I mean—”

“Tell them about her,” Danny prompted.

“Yes, tell us about her,” Belinda seconded quickly. “We know nearly nothing about this girl. I think, perhaps, we could have been a bit more informed if things are as they appear to be.”

Rodney flushed slightly. “I've told you about her,” he defended himself.

Belinda nodded, but Rodney's expression acknowledged the fact that that wasn't good enough.

“She's from the church I attend,” he began.

Belinda nodded again. That much Rodney had disclosed.

“A city girl, obviously,” Drew added, though Virginia knew her father's observation did not mean he would hold that against her. “What does her father do?” he asked.

That seemed to be a standard question for one father to ask about another.

“She doesn't have a father.”

Several pairs of eyes turned to Rodney, expressing surprise and interest.

“Both her father and mother were killed in an accident when she was four,” he hurried to explain.

“She's an orphan?” exclaimed Francine.

Rodney nodded.

“She sure doesn't look like an orphan.”

“Orphans aren't always people in rags begging on the street, Francine,” Rodney said a bit impatiently.

They waited.

“Her father had been an investor—his family's business. Mostly real estate and lumber, I think. When they were killed, she was left with a maiden aunt as guardian. She has been with her ever since—until a year ago last May. Her aunt Sadie died then, and Grace has been on her own. She decided to go to college. She's taking nursing.”

“Nursing?” Belinda's voice conveyed her feelings. Virginia supposed no chosen occupation would have surprised—or pleased—her mother more.

“If she's rich . . . ?” began Francine.

“Please, Francine, let's let Rodney tell us,” broke in Belinda. Francine held her tongue.

“She is rich,” admitted Rodney. “At least she has potential to be rich. But she doesn't want to live a rich, idle life.”

Belinda's satisfied nod reflected Virginia's approval.

“Her aunt was quite strict,” went on Rodney. “Real strict. She kept Grace quite confined. Almost like . . . like a monk.”

“Girls aren't monks,” murmured Francine under her breath. Rodney only glanced her way before continuing.

“She's never had family—that she clearly remembers. She thinks I am so lucky. So blessed.” He lowered his gaze and rubbed his hands vigorously together. “And she's right,” he went on, raising his face again. “I am blessed. I want to share that with her. That's why I brought her home with me.”

“So you don't have plans?” asked Belinda hesitantly.

“Oh no,” Rodney was quick to say. “I still have to finish school. Grace has two more years. We haven't even talked about. . .”

Virginia could feel her mother's relief as she smiled warmly at her oldest son.

Rodney picked up the conversation again, his face flushing with his confession. “I . . . I really like her a lot, Mama, but we haven't—I haven't . . .” He paused, then closed his mouth. He didn't seem to feel the need to say any more.

“We're glad you brought Grace home,” Belinda said for all of them. “We'll make her visit just as pleasant as we can, even though it's quite obvious she is not used to living quite like we do.”

“Mama,” said Rodney, “she realizes she hasn't been as blessed as we have, but she is more than willing to try to fit in. To learn.”

Virginia blinked. She knew that wasn't quite what her mother had meant.

———

Grace did try to fit in, though Virginia was sure it was not easy for her.

By nature Grace was shy, and living with the maiden aunt with her strict disciplines could not have helped her confidence in new situations.

She knew how to do very little around the house and admitted that the first she had ever made her own bed or cleaned her own room was when she moved into the university dormitory. “But I'm rather good at it now,” she noted shyly.

But when it came to kitchen duties, she knew nothing. Virginia, who had grown up with an eggbeater or a dish towel in her hand, could not believe that one Grace's age could be so ignorant of simple procedures.

But Grace did want to learn and hovered near Virginia, her big eyes fixed on every move. She was full of questions.
Why do you do that? What is that for? How does this work?
It was like teaching a willing child.

Grace caught on quickly, and Virginia could see that she had a bright and eager mind.

“Why nursing?” Virginia asked as they prepared an evening meal together.

The large eyes opened even wider, then she nodded as though she understood the purpose behind the question.

“I wanted a profession where I could be of help to people,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “I've been alone all my life— except for Aunt Sadie.”

Yes, I've heard about “Aunt Sadie,”
Virginia thought to herself. Already she had decided she didn't care much for the elderly dowager.

“And the staff, of course, but Aunt Sadie did not want me ‘hobnobbing' with them. I was banned from the kitchen and even the gardens unless supervised.”

It must have been dreadful,
thought Virginia.

“When I decided to go to university—I was of age and could make my own decisions—I decided to take a course that would not only let me be with people, but would also let me help in some way. I felt I understood a little bit about suffering.”

“Do you remember back before you moved to your aunt's house?” Virginia asked, trying to be delicate.

“Oh, I didn't move to hers. She moved to mine. Well, my parents', really.”

“So it wasn't her . .. ?”

“Home? Her wealth? Oh my no. She had nothing really. There was no way she could have cared for a child. She just had a little place on a back street.”

Virginia must have showed her surprise.

“We were not a big family. Great-aunt Sadie was the only living relative I had.”

Virginia felt further sympathy.

“I don't know what I would have done without her,” Grace went on and the blue-green eyes misted with unreleased tears. “She was good to me. She was old—and arthritic—even from the first. It must have been hard for her to care for a child.”

Virginia began to readjust her mental picture of the elderly woman.

———

When Christmas had been celebrated and the time came for Danny, Rodney, and Grace to return to the university, the whole household was sad to see her go. Even small Anthony had taken to her quickly, and he begged her not to leave when she said her good-bye.

“I'll be back,” she promised him with another warm hug for the sturdy little boy.

He changed his tactic with “Me go, too.” He reached his arms around her neck. “Tony go, too.”

Virginia smiled at the irony that Clara had managed to require that he be called by his full name, only to have Anthony choose to call himself Tony.

“Maybe someday I will be able to take you for a train ride. But not now. Your mama and papa would be too lonesome if you came with me.”

Anthony looked back at Clara, then held out an inviting hand. “Mama—come,” he insisted. Soon he would have the entire family traveling the train with Grace.

Troy rescued his son and freed Grace to board the train. They all waved one last time, then stepped back to watch the train pull from the station.

Not much was said as they returned home, but Virginia knew the whole family likely felt as bereft as she herself. There was something about Grace that warmed your heart. Maybe Francine, a bit too candidly perhaps, said it for all of them. “You know, after she had been here awhile, I forgot about all her money and her fancy clothes and just thought of her as . . . as normal.”

They would miss her.

Virginia thought forward to the months ahead. Her mother had given Grace an invitation to come back anytime she had a break in her class schedule.

———

The cold weather remained, but Virginia paid little attention to it, even though she had to face it every day walking to and from work. She probably had become used to it, but perhaps it was because she genuinely enjoyed being a postmistress, and the walk in the cold seemed a small price to be doing something that brought her satisfaction.

She had not discussed it with her parents as yet, but she had quite decided she would not pursue any further schooling. As far as she was concerned, she had already established her career.

Though it was far from glamorous and didn't pay high returns, it would be steady employment. She should never need to venture from her own hometown or the family that she loved. Perhaps one day she would even get her own little suite of rooms or maybe even a very small house of her own. If she saved every spare penny, she should be able to care for her own needs. She did not want her parents to think she expected them to support her all her life.

The thought of one day marrying never even occurred to Virginia. She took no notice of any of the young men of the town and naïvely did not catch the little signals of interest that were sent her way.

Jamison had not written. Many evenings Virginia had to resist the impulse to sit down and write to him, sharing the events of her day and the small-town news that she felt might be of interest to him. His parents keep in touch, she told herself. He would know all the news from the town.

Pulling out a sheet of paper, she would then begin a letter to Rodney or Danny or often Grace.

But even as she wrote, her heart still felt empty. Lonely. If Jamison should ever change his mind, she knew she would have no hesitation in taking him back. She missed him so much that it was a constant, conscious pain in the depth of her being.

Church did little to alleviate the pain. Every time she looked toward the pew that he had shared with his parents as a boy, or the one they had shared for so much of their growing-up years, the pain became fresh again. She wondered just how long it took for a broken heart to heal.

Her Bible and its familiar passages offered comfort and hope for the future, and she clung to its truth of God's love and care for her when her heart was especially heavy.

———

The big news for the family in the new year was Clara's announcement that Anthony was to have a new sister or brother. At first there was deep concern, even on Clara's part. She was closely observed by the two doctors in town and watched even more closely by her mother. But no signs of recurring illness developed in the first few months of her pregnancy, and everyone began to relax.

Virginia let herself be excited and once again began a new round of purchases for baby things. This time she was hoping for a niece.

———

Virginia was on her way home from work late one afternoon, her coat collar pulled up about her face, her scarf securely tied to keep out the cold, when she almost collided with a man hurrying down the sidewalk.

She stepped aside just in time, excusing herself but thinking that the near miss was mostly because of his carelessness. Then the man spoke.

“Virginia?”

It was Jenny's father.

“Yes,” she replied in a faltering voice. Was he intoxicated again?

“A call just came,” he said, his voice strained. Troubled. “It's Jenny. She's been hurt in an auto accident.”

CHAPTER 11

V
irginia stared at Jenny's father, trying desperately to make sense of his hurried words. Jenny. Hurt. Auto accident. Her mind processed the words, but she still fought against what they meant. At last she spoke, but her voice was choked. “Where is she?”

Not,
How is she?
Virginia didn't know if she was ready to hear that part.