Beyond All Measure (26 page)

Ada tried to relax and enjoy the festivities, but she couldn’t help worrying. The sheriff had ridden out to the house several times in the past two weeks, but he was no closer to finding out who had left the threatening note. Ada had taken extra care to lock the doors at night. For a few nights, she’d left a lantern burning in the kitchen all the way to morning.

Not surprisingly, once Lillian recovered from her initial fright, she had turned defiant, insisting that Ada not give up on her plan to help Sophie. “If you do,” she insisted, “you’ve let evil win.”

Bea, in a pale ivory bustled dress that complemented her elaborate new hat, strode to center stage and welcomed everyone to the pageant. She nodded to Mariah, who struck a single note. The children from the orphanage hummed it in near-perfect harmony, and the music began. Ada hummed the songs under her breath and turned her head, seeking Wyatt. Earlier that day, he’d driven her and Lillian to the church and then left for town to complete some last-minute errands. Now he sat across the aisle with Dr. Spencer, his dear face so serious and attentive that he might have been listening to a world-famous choir. That he showed such regard for a ragtag group of homeless children only increased her affection for him.

There was so much that she admired about him. For one thing, Wyatt was a peacemaker. He’d spent the past two weeks calming Jasper Pruitt’s anger, talking with the townsfolk, looking for a compromise that would allow everyone in Hickory Ridge to live in harmony. His efforts seemed to be working, at least temporarily; on her most recent visits to town, she’d heard much less talk about Two Creeks and more about Christmas and everyone’s hopes for the new year.

And to her surprise, Wyatt had not tried to further dissuade her from seeing Sophie. But it was clear that someone was out to stop her.

The notes of the last carol faded. The orphans, their sweet faces bright with triumph, filed from the stage and sat in a row along one wall. A little girl, her hair done up in elaborate ringlets for the occasion, stepped forward, opened her Bible, and began to read. “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.”

Ada felt a weight on her shoulder. Lillian had fallen asleep. In recent weeks she seemed to sleep more and more, for longer periods of time. It worried Ada. On one of her visits to town, she’d made a point of speaking to the doctor about it, but he hadn’t seemed concerned. “She’s just old. Let her rest all she wants. Encourage her to eat, to take a turn in the garden when it isn’t too cold. That’s all you can do.”

Lillian began snoring. To quiet her, Ada put her arm around the older woman and drew her close. Wyatt caught Ada’s eye and smiled so tenderly that it brought tears to her eyes. How drastically she’d changed. Six months ago she couldn’t wait to earn enough money to leave. Now she feared that her time in Hickory Ridge might end long before she was ready to say good-bye.

Jacob and Sabrina, dressed as Mary and Joseph, took their places on the stage. Sabrina cradled the carved Christ child and rocked him softly in her arms. Jacob, his hair slicked back, his face shining in the candlelight, placed an arm protectively around her shoulders. The children in their angel costumes stepped to the front of the stage and sang “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

Pastor Dennis motioned the worshippers to their feet. Mariah moved back to the piano and struck a chord, and the church filled with the sweet harmony of “Silent Night.” When the last note faded, he stretched out his arms palms up. “Lord, show us the way to live in your grace among all our brothers and sisters, and may the peace of this season be with us all today and forever. Amen.”

“Amen!” The congregation rose and began greeting one another. Children rushed to the refreshments table. Bea stood at the front of the church, preening in her new hat and accepting congratulations for another outstanding program. Mrs. Lowell lined up her children and led them in an orderly fashion past the refreshments table.

Lillian woke and looked around. “My lands, Ada. Did I miss the whole thing?”

Ada smiled. “You were tired from our decorating, and I hadn’t the heart to wake you.”

“Oh, what a crashing bore I am! Where’s that nephew of mine?”

“Just there.” Ada inclined her head toward the door. “Talking with Sage and the doctor.”

“Excuse me, will you? I have a bone to pick with him.”

Lillian looped her bag over her arm and wove her unsteady way through the crush of people.

“Ada?” Bea, with her entourage in tow, towered over her. A formidable figure, but at least she was smiling. She pirouetted. “How do I look?”

Ada hid a smile. Bea wasn’t after an honest opinion; she wanted to be sure her audience was paying attention. “Very dramatic. It suits you.”

“Oh, I think so too! It turned out even better than I hoped.” Bea patted her hat. “I must admit, Hickory Ridge has a true artist in its midst.”

“Thank you.” Ada felt a rush of relief. The schoolteacher seemed sincere; perhaps the two of them had at last reached an understanding.

“I have but one request.” Bea leaned close and whispered, “Don’t make another one like it. My uniqueness is my hallmark.”

“You’re certainly right about that.”

Then, to Ada’s further astonishment, Jasper Pruitt pushed his way though the crowd. “Miss Wentworth? Could I have a word with you?”

“What is it, Mr. Pruitt?”

“In private, ma’am? I mean, I know I’ve got no right, after some of the things I’ve said to you, but I’m hopin’ you’ll overlook that.”

“Well, well,” Bea said. “If this doesn’t beat all.”

“This ain’t none of your business, Bea Goldston,” Jasper said. “Go on back to the schoolhouse. Wash your chalkboard or sharpen some pencils or something. Leave us be.”

“I was just leaving anyway,” Bea said, “to show Wyatt Caldwell my new hat.”

“Miss Wentworth,” Jasper began as Bea whirled away. “I was rude to you when you first come here, and I’m sorry for it. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. Thinking about the Yankees and what they done to us down here just riles me up. But it wasn’t none of it your doings. I shouldn’ta took it out on you.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Pruitt.” Over Jasper’s shoulder, she saw Mrs. Lowell gathering the children, helping them into their coats. Sophie stood alone, a copy of the program in her hands. “Please excuse me.”

“I need a hat.” Jasper placed one meaty hand on her arm. The stub of his severed finger twitched.

Ada looked at him, puzzled. “The men’s haberdashery on Main Street has a nice selection. I believe Mr. Caldwell buys his hats there.”

“No ma’am. I mean a lady’s hat. Not for me,” he added hastily. “It’s for Jeanne. My wife.”

Ada hadn’t realized he was married. “I see.”

“We lost a little baby a few months back,” Jasper went on. “A girl, born dead. My Jeanne took it real hard, and she’s still grievin’. I’ve been trying to cheer her up, take her for walks, bring her little trinkets from the store, but it don’t do a bit of good. Tonight I noticed her starin’ at all the fancy hats the ladies are wearin’, especially Bea Goldston’s, and I figure a new hat might be just the thing to bring her out of her misery.”

“I can’t speak from personal experience, Mr. Pruitt, but I can’t imagine anything that would compensate a mother for the loss of her child.”

“No ma’am. I know that. I just don’t like seein’ her with such a bad case of the mullygrubs is all.”

The church door opened as people began leaving. Snow swirled onto the floor. Somewhere outside, a child laughed. A harness jingled.

“This being the season for miracles and all,” Jasper continued, “I hoped—”

“I’ll do it.” Despite his earlier treatment of her, and her near certainty that he belonged to the Klan, something in the man’s voice and the defeated stoop of his shoulders touched her heart. “I’ll make a hat for your wife. Something similar to Bea’s, but not an exact copy.”

“You will? That’s real fine! And if you need credit at the store, for anything at all, just ask.”

“Mr. Pruitt—”

“Yes ma’am?”

She searched for words. “You mustn’t be disappointed if the hat doesn’t have the desired effect. Time will soften the pain of your loss, but a mother’s grief will not be assuaged this side of heaven.” She gathered her shawl and bag. “Please ask your wife to call on me, and we’ll get started.”

“But . . .” He ducked his head. “I was . . . kinda hopin’ it could be a surprise.”

“But I don’t know her hat size.”

Jasper scanned the room. “That’s her, talking to the preacher. I’d say she’s about average.”

“All right. Average it is. A hat like Miss Goldston’s costs six dollars.”

Jasper whistled softly. “Six dollars? Bea must have a secret gold mine somewheres.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. I’ll deliver the hat to the mercantile when it’s finished.”

“Thank you, kindly. I appreciate it.” He hurried off to join his wife.

Ada gazed after him for a minute, then went to find Sophie. She found the girl talking with Wyatt.

He looked up, his eyes gleaming. “Miss Ada? May I present Miss Sophie Robillard.”

Ada dropped a mock curtsy. “Miss Robillard. So delighted to make your acquaintance. How do you do?”

Sophie giggled. “I’m not Miss Robillard. I’m just plain ordinary Sophie.”

“There’s nothing ordinary about you, my dear,” Ada said. Sophie looked pleased.

“I thought it was time you had a last name,” Ada told her. “Everyone else has one. Why not you?”

“I got one,” Sophie said. “Nobody knows what it is, though.”

“Well, this one was my mother’s. I’m lending it to you until we find yours. How will that be?”

“All right, I guess.” Sophie licked the piece of hard candy in her hand. “Mrs. Lowell said you can visit me. If you still want to.”

“She did? Of
course
I want to.” Ada looked at Wyatt. “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”

Wyatt grinned. “Must have been the Christmas spirit that got to her.”

Just then Lillian appeared, holding a cup of punch. “This is good. Have you tried it yet, Ada?”

“Not yet.”

“You coming to see me tomorrow?” Sophie tugged on Ada’s skirt. “I got a new story.”

“Not tomorrow, but in a few days.”

Mrs. Lowell clapped her hands. “All right, children. Hurry up. Time to go.”

“I’m going too, Wyatt,” Lillian said. “The Whitings will drive me.”

“I don’t want you at the house alone, Aunt Lil.”

“Sage and Mariah will stay with me. I’ve already asked them.” She winked at Ada. “You two stay and enjoy yourselves. I don’t mind a bit.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I had planned a surprise for Ada.”

“I love surprises!” Sophie grabbed Wyatt’s hand and smiled up at him. Ada laughed.
What a little flirt
.

“Sophie!” Mrs. Lowell called. “Come here this instant, or I’ll leave you to walk back in the dark by yourself.”

Sophie let go of Wyatt’s hand and ran to join the others. Sage emerged from the crowd. “There you are, Lillian. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” She handed him her cup and pulled her gloves from her bag. “Goodnight, Wyatt. Goodnight, Ada.”

Wyatt kissed his aunt’s cheek. “Happy Christmas, Aunt Lil.”

“You too, son.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow for Christmas dinner. I’ll bring my famous raisin pie.” He smiled down at Ada. “Other than steak and beans, it’s the only thing I ever learned to make.”

Lillian snorted. “Better bring a hacksaw too.”

Wyatt laughed and took Ada’s arm. “Let’s say goodnight to the preacher and get out of here.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Ada slipped her hand through the crook of Wyatt’s arm, and they joined others leaving the church. Outside she looked around for Wyatt’s rig and spotted Smoky harnessed to an ornately-carved sleigh. Painted in dark blue and bright gold, it gleamed like a jewel against the silvered snow.

With a cry of utter delight, she let go of his arm, ran to the sleigh, and climbed in. “I haven’t been for a sleigh ride in years. And I’ve never seen one as beautiful as this!”

Wyatt wrapped his muffler around his neck, pulled on his gloves, and climbed aboard. “I built it myself. After the war I needed something to do to clear my head. But I haven’t had much chance to use it. This is the most snow we’ve seen in these parts for a long while.”

He handed Ada a thick woolen lap robe and flicked the reins. The sleigh glided through the deep snow. They crossed the road and drove along a narrow trail that led upward through the dark trees.

“We never got our chance to ride up to the top of Hickory Ridge,” Wyatt said. “How about it?”

She nodded and snuggled beneath the robe. As the sleigh ascended, Ada looked down at the snow-covered road below. A line of wagons, buckboards, and rigs, some with flickering lantern lights to guide their way, fanned across the valley toward home. Muffled in snow, the sounds of creaking wagons and jingling harnesses came to her softly, like music. The gently falling flakes drifted onto her cheeks and lashes and settled onto the robe warming her feet. Wyatt smiled down at her and clasped her gloved hand in his. Ada released a contented sigh. In this moment, all the world seemed beautiful and enchanted.

They passed through the tree line and continued on. At the top of the ridge, Wyatt halted the sleigh. Above them, a few stars glimmered through the snow clouds. Ada inhaled the cold, damp air. Up here she felt as if all her cares had vanished and the world was a more benevolent place.

Wyatt wrapped his arm around her and pointed to the dark expanse of thick timber below. “All this belongs to my company— except for the bottomland in Two Creeks.”

“I don’t want to think about Two Creeks tonight.”

He nodded. “At least Jasper has calmed down, now that the Powell boy is paying for the stolen goods.”

“It was kind of you to give the boy a job.”

“The sheriff had him locked him up. I had to do something. Jasper sure wasn’t in the mood to give him another chance.”

“Mr. Pruitt is such a contradiction.” Ada brushed away the snowflakes gathering in the folds of her robe. “He’s so harsh and unforgiving toward others, but tonight he was quite tenderhearted when he told me about his wife.”