Finding Grace: A Novel (12 page)

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Authors: Sarah Pawley

Tags: #romance, #historical, #1920s

BOOK: Finding Grace: A Novel
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Grace unfolded the thin navy blue shirt and
pants. “What are they?” She’d never seen anything like them.


They’re cotton pajamas,”
Alice replied. “They’re perfect for summer sleeping, and a hell of
a lot better than those old flannel nightgowns, and I just know
that’s what you brought with you.”

Grace smiled, but didn’t answer. She didn’t
have to, for her sister-in-law knew her better than most anyone.
“Thank you,” she replied sweetly.

Alice pursed her lips, waving away the
gratitude. “No thanks required, sis.” She took the pajamas and set
them aside for her. Then she turned back with a big smile. “Well, I
think I'll leave you to it. I've had a long day myself, and I think
I'll turn in.” Suddenly she gave a little bounce of excitement, and
threw her arms around her. “I’m so excited to have you here! We’re
going to have so much fun. I can’t wait!”

With another little bounce she made her way
towards the door, but Grace stopped her for a moment.

"You're sure I won't drown in there?" She
pointed towards the mountain of bubbles that was rising in the tub.
But Alice just smiled.

"I think you'll be safe.” She closed the
door behind her, leaving Grace on her own.

For the first time in days, she was
completely alone. She looked around, and the first thing she did
was to go over and shut off the faucet. Not because the water would
overflow…though it had, indeed, reached its limit…but because she
wanted to see if she really could control the thing. There was an
odd kind of pleasure she found in managing the flow of water,
turning it on and off again and again for several long moments. But
after a short time playing, she made herself stop. She could have
happily kept on, but felt a little silly for doing it, so she
ceased and went on with her task at hand.

In the bedroom, she put her bag on a chair
and rifled through it, finding her hairbrush. Carrying it into the
bathroom she placed it on the sink, and shutting the door behind
her, she took in the silence…the complete privacy the little room
provided. Taking off her boots and socks, she set them neatly by
the door. One by one she removed her garments, putting them neatly
in a pile beside the boots. Then she turned to look at the bath. It
seemed a little scary to see the big white tub, deep with water and
high with bubbles, but she told herself not to be so ridiculous. If
Alice had told her to do it, she would. It was only water, after
all. She’d taken baths before, even though they’d been taken in the
water of the spring, or just out of a bucket or a wash basin. This
couldn't be so bad.

She stepped one foot over
and slowly tested it. The bubbles were cool to the touch and
smelled like lavender, which she liked very much. Then her foot
touched actual water and she yanked it back briefly. She’d never
felt hot water except on her face and hands, and it took several
more tests before she found herself able to put both feet in and
stand there, letting the heat radiate up her legs. Finally she made
herself bend her knees, and slowly sinking down, she adjusted to
the feeling of hot water all over her body.
Lord
, she thought with a sigh of
pleasure,
Alice was right. This is
heavenly
.

But even in the midst of such delight, she
knew she had little duties to perform. Only this time, it was a
duty to herself and not to her entire family or anyone else. After
several days of traveling, she was sure she smelled quite ripe.
Jack and Alice would have been too polite to say anything, but she
could imagine what others would have thought. Especially Henry.

She didn’t know why he’d popped into her
head, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how rude he’d been. Not
that she cared about his snobby opinion. And what was he to her
anyway? The feelings of a womanizer meant nothing to her. In fact,
there were very few people whose opinion she cared about at all.
But she did care about herself, and after all, cleanliness was next
to Godliness, or so she believed. She cleaned herself up quickly,
scrubbing herself from tip to toe, and giving her head and hair a
thorough wash and rinse. Then she sank down in the water up to her
neck, closing her eyes and relaxing, her obligations filled for the
moment.

As she lay there, she kept seeing those cold
blue eyes of his. For a moment she tried to push his image from her
head, but it remained stubbornly implanted, and soon she gave up
fighting it and let her mind wander. There was something strange
about that man. Not that she feared him. But his look was so harsh
it made her uncomfortable, while fascinating her at the same time.
There was not one hint of softness in his appearance, starting with
those eyes that seemed to pierce right through her, and moving on
to other little things about him. His mouth, for one….thin lips set
in a very angular lower jaw. His nose was hawkish and a bit long,
but not ugly. It only added to the masculinity of his face. That
seemed to be the thing about him…the lack of gentleness in any of
his features. Maybe if he smiled, it would soften him a little. But
she hadn’t seen him make any attempt at that, and so she couldn’t
know if it would make a difference or not.

She sighed, and looking down, she saw that
the bubbles had long dissolved. The water was growing cool as well.
With great reluctance, she reached down and pulled the plug. She
stood up in the tub, wringing the water out of her hair. She
reached over and took a towel from the ring on the wall, wrapping
it around herself. Just as she started to step out, the last of the
bathwater was going down…and suddenly there came a demonic kind of
sound from the bottom of the bathtub. It was the last of the water
being sucked down the drain.

She practically jumped over the side, so
terrified was she by the noise. In all sincerity, she thought it
possible to be taken down with the bathwater, so she quickly got
out and stepped away from the evil sounding thing. She might have
pondered it further, if it weren't for the fact that she was
suddenly freezing cold. She dried herself quickly, stepping into
the pajamas Alice had given her. How odd it felt not to have a
dress hem brushing her calves. But it wasn’t unpleasant, not at
all. She found the pajamas quite comfortable, just as Alice had
said they would be.

As she went into her bedroom, she flipped
off the light switch…then flipped it on, and off, and on and off
again. She still couldn't get over the amazement of electric
lights, among other things…and she was sure there were many other
discoveries yet to be found.

As she sat on the edge of the bed she
braided her hair, using the same tattered ribbon she'd been wearing
for days. She saw how it was beginning to fray. Maybe she could ask
Alice for some new ribbons tomorrow. She and Jack had been so good
to her. They would probably give her new ribbon and a lot more, and
without expecting anything in return, generous souls that they
were. But she was determined to pay them back for their kindness,
one way or another. The thought was a fading one, though, as both
the wear of travel and the heat from the bath were suddenly taking
a toll on her senses.

She pulled back the soft blue comforter,
folding it neatly at the end of the bed, for it was too warm to
need much cover. The sheet would be enough, and she slipped under
its softness. Reaching over, she turned off the light…and unable to
help herself, she pulled the little chain several times before
finally letting the room settle into darkness.

Her last act, before she fell asleep, was to
clasp the little cross at her neck and to send a prayer to heaven,
thanking the good Lord above for guiding her on her way.

 

Chapter 6


A New
World

 

Morning
, she thought.
It is morning. Time to
rise.

Sitting up, rubbing her weary eyes, she
wondered for a moment why everything was so silent. That danged old
rooster never missed a day.

But then she remembered that there was no
rooster. No fires to be lit, no water to be fetched. Looking around
her new room, hearing the absolute silence, she realized that she
wasn't bound to those kinds of drudgeries anymore. Her time was now
completely her own, perhaps for the first time in her entire life,
and it made her smile with contentment.

Stretching like a lazy cat, she fell back on
her pillow where she remained for some time, just staring at the
ceiling. There was an inkling in her head that she could lay there
as long as she wished. No one would care if she did.

But laziness was not in her blood, even
now.

Throwing back the sheet, she swung her legs
over the side of the bed. How strange and soft the carpet felt on
her bare feet, so different from the bare wood floor she was used
to. She crunched her toes in the material as she walked to the
chair to fetch her clothes. As she dressed, she suddenly wished
she'd had the time to make more clothes for herself. Her wardrobe
was scanty at best, and most of what she did have was worn and
faded. But it was all she had, so it would have to do. As she put
away her pajamas, she suddenly had a thought.

If there were no chores, what did a person
do at this hour of the morning?

Then another thought came to her…a memory,
of something Jack had once written to her about in a letter...

Dear Sis,

 

Today I saw the funniest thing. I'd heard
tell that they bring eggs and milk to your door here, every
morning, and today I learned it's really true. At dawn this
morning, a man in a white uniform came up to our front door and
sure enough, he brought with him a basket of eggs and a jar of
milk. Mama sure would be pleased to have something like that. One
thing though - the milk sure tastes different than the stuff old
Bessie used to give. It has kind of a sweet taste - pasteurized,
they call it. Just one more thing to get used to, I suppose...

 

Her curiosity went wild as she thought about
it. Slipping quietly from her room, she made her way down the
stairs, determined to see for herself this early morning ritual
Jack had described. The hall clock struck five as she opened the
front door and took a look around.

The sky was soft and purple, the sun just
starting to light the horizon, and the birds were chirping in the
trees. Otherwise, it was very quiet and peaceful. And there was no
sign of anyone, and nothing at the door. If Jack hadn't said it was
so, she might have doubted that anyone or anything might be on
their way. But if he had said it, she believed it. So she went to
the swing to sit down, rocking back and forth as she waited.

She didn't have to sit for long.

A small white truck soon came down the
street. She watched, intrigued, as the delivery man criss-crossed
from one house to another, carrying his goods and placing them at
each porch stoop. When he came near the Langdon house, she found
she couldn't sit still a moment longer. Her curiosity was too
great, and she went out to the curb to meet the driver as he
approached. He seemed startled by her sudden appearance, but she
paid it no mind.

She bid him good morning, sticking out her
hand out in greeting. "My name is Grace. How are you?"

He gave her an odd look. But accepting her
hand, he gave it a firm shake as he introduced himself.

"I'm Mike.”

She smiled shyly, realizing that she might
be making trouble, but unable to help herself.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Mike. It’s
just that I never saw a milkman before. I'll tell you one thing, we
don't have nothin’ like this back home. You sure are doing a
service to folks around here. I hope they all appreciate it as much
as I do."

He still seemed a bit befuddled, but he
tried to smile as he handed her the delivery of eggs, butter, and
milk. She smiled at him again.

"Thanks, Mike. I've got to get in the house
and make breakfast before my brother and his wife wake up. I want
to surprise them. You have yourself a good day." With her goods in
hand she made her way back up the sidewalk, missing the strange
look on the milkman’s face.

As she came up the front
step, she had a sudden feeling she was being watched. It made her
think of Charlie, and she shuddered at the thought.
He's another world away
,
she told herself.
He's not watching you,
and no one else is either.
She laughed at
herself for her silliness, and went into the house.

* * * * *

 

In the house across the street, the
grandfather clock in the hall struck five. The sun was just showing
itself out on the horizon. Lying in bed, Henry twitched in his
sleep. A sheen of sweat beaded on his brow. An old foe had returned
to him in the night, invading the peace of his rest…

Mortars screamed…an ear-splitting noise
through the black of night. Then the ground exploded in a violent
upchucking of rocks, dirt, and mud. The battering of machine-gun
fire was relentless and deafening…but not loud enough to block out
the sounds of lives being blown away in the blink of an eye. In the
cold, muddy rows of the trenches there were the cries and moans of
the dying, the barking of orders, and the shouting of men in states
of near madness. Grown men, torn to bits by bullets and explosions,
cried for their mothers. The stench of blood and carnage, of death,
was everywhere…a putrid scent that infiltrated the nostrils and
never left, no matter how long the passage of time. Men gave stark,
sudden cries and fell to the ground, as puddles of red mixed with
the water and mud…

 

He gave a slight cry he woke, trembling
slightly as he lurched to a sitting position. His breathing was
rapid, his eyes wide. Beside him, Victoria lifted her head, her
voice drowsy.

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