Like Gold Refined (14 page)
“Is it over?” she whispered.
Her father nodded. “This part,” he answered, his voice low.
“What do you mean?”
“You have a trial date. The case now goes to trial.”
“ Trial? I don’t understand. We aren’t making any charges … ”
“No,
you
are being charged—in a way.”
“We are?” Virginia was incredulous. “You mean … we are being charged with … with keeping Jenny’s child?” she gasped.
“That’s about it,” said her father, stuffing papers back into his attaché case.
“But that’s absurd. Jenny gave her to us.”
“There are no documents.” Her father sounded tired. “But—”
“Her lawyers will say she was distraught over her broken marriage relationship—which she was. That she was not thinking clearly—which she probably wasn’t. That she agreed to leave her with you—for the time. And she now wishes to resume the mother-daughter relationship.”
“But … ”
But there was nothing Virginia could say. Her head ached again. She felt nauseated and weak. She needed some fresh air. “Please,” she turned to Jonathan. “I need to get outside.”
He helped her from the close courtroom. She barely noticed its richly paneled walls and straight-backed wooden benches. Down the marble stairs, past the crowd that milled about, to a bench under the shade of a tall tree. She lowered herself to the seat and took several deep breaths. As she regained some composure, the realization hung heavy over her—they had only taken the first steps. Much more still lay ahead.
Back home with the children and duties of wife and mother, Virginia tried to pick up the pieces and go on with life as she had known it. But it was very hard. That small date circled on their calendar seemed to loom larger and more menacing with every passing day. Jonathan and Slate worked almost nonstop with the horses to ensure they were ready for the spring sale. They would need every dollar the auction would bring to pay their legal costs.
Drew had contacted a city lawyer, experienced in such cases, and preliminary information had been passed back and forth. The attorney now was preparing their case for the court appearance. Already a sizable amount of money had been transferred to him by way of a bank loan to be paid back at the time of the spring sale.
Virginia tried to ignore the cloud of uncertainty that hung over the household. Even the task of planting her spring garden did not fill her with enthusiasm and anticipation as it had in the past. Everything—everything seemed to be focused on that one date on their calendar.
The children no doubt felt the tension, though nothing was said, even from Mindy. All the daily activities, including prayer time, seemed strained.
At night when Mindy included her usual prayer for “Mama Jenny, and help her to love you,” Virginia’s heart felt as if it were being torn in two. Virginia and Jonathan dared not voice their deepest concerns until in the privacy of their own room. And then in mere whispers. Virginia wondered if she might collapse under the strain of it all.
It was almost a relief when she had something else to worry about. A letter from Danny told of the birth of their child. It had been a difficult delivery, and Alvira had not gained back her strength as they had hoped. She was holding her own, but they did ask for the family’s prayers.
The baby seemed to be doing fine. They had named him Robert Daniel. Virginia liked the name. She longed to be able to see this new nephew. Her prayer focus changed a bit and some of the tension left her.
Then came another diversion. Slate, who had been steadily maturing, began to court one of the young ladies in the con? gregation. She was a fine girl, from a good family, and Virginia smiled to herself as she remembered those times from her own youth. But Jonathan seemed troubled, though he said nothing. At length Virginia felt she should discuss it with him.
“You don’t care for Lucy?” Virginia prompted after they had retired one night.
“What makes you say that? Of course I like Lucy. She’s a fine young lady.”
“But you don’t seem pleased—about Slate. About his inter? est in her.”
He was silent for a long time. It suddenly dawned on her that the problem might not be with Lucy. “You think—we’ll lose him?”
“What I’m paying him wouldn’t support a wife and family.”
“But he does get room and board. It’s a fair wage,” Virginia reminded him.
“Well … he won’t expect his wife to live here.”
Virginia pondered. “No, no I don’t expect he would. But they are still young. Surely … surely they aren’t seriously considering marriage … yet.”
“The boy should have a few years to lay aside—to prepare for the day that does happen,” said Jonathan. “I had hoped—had planned—to offer him a partnership. Gradually let him pick some of his own stock. Work together here. Maybe even give him some acres for a house.”
Virginia pushed up in bed, her eyes shining in the lamplight. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Virginia,” he said, “we don’t know if we’ll even have any horses left when we get through this thing. Not for Slate—not for us.”
She slumped back onto the pillow. There it was again. Their whole future, their very lives, depended on what would happen over the next months. “The thing,” as Jonathan always referred to the upcoming trial, was a threat hanging over their heads every waking moment.
From then on, the sight of Lucy’s shining eyes whenever Slate walked toward her made Virginia sigh rather than smile. It didn’t seem fair that even this shared joy should be taken from them.
The day was warm and inviting, and Virginia decided she needed to get out. She had not visited her grandparents for some weeks. It was time for her to drop in and see how they were doing.
With Jonathan so busy with the horses, she would not ask him to take on three lively children, too. She got them ready to go with her and went to inform Jonathan of her plans.
“I won’t be long,” she promised. “I’ll be home to fix your dinner.”
He nodded, his face acknowledging the fact that the outing would do her good.
“We’re going to see the farm Grandma and Grandpa,” called Martha excitedly. Olivia clapped her hands to indicate how she felt about the proposed trip.
Virginia smiled. Her children lived on a farm, but to them the only real farm was the one where Grandpa Clark and Grandma Marty lived. That was The Farm. The one with the apple trees and porch swing and kittens in the barn.
The motorcar started with no problem, and they were on their way. Virginia had to ask Martha to take charge of James. He insisted on standing on the seat so he could see everything there was to see. Martha wrapped her arms around him so a bump in the road would not send him sprawling into the dash.
Soon they were pulling into the driveway. Virginia was as excited as her offspring. It always felt good to be back in her grandparents’ yard with all its memories of family times.
Mr. Simcoe greeted them at the door. Virginia had expected her grandmother and felt a moment of panic.
“Come in,” Mr. Simcoe welcomed them, no sign of any concern on his face. “Folks’ll be right glad to see you all.”
“Where are—?” began Virginia, but then she saw her grand? mother slowly coming up beside the man, a big welcoming smile on her face. “Come in, my dear. Come in.”
“Now, why didn’t you just stay put?” he scolded gently. “I told you I’d bring ’em on in.”
Marty’s smile deepened. “You think I want to lose even one minute of this visit? I might be slow in gettin’ round, but I can still move my body to the door.”
Virginia frowned as she noted the difficulty with which her grandmother moved. “Did you fall again, Grandma?”
“No, child, I didn’t fall. I jest got me a hip thet don’t want to work anymore. Gets stiff when I sit and sore when I don’t. Come in. Come in all of you. Here—come give Grandma a hug.” She held out her arms to the children.
From the corner of the room Virginia heard her grandfather stir. He might have just wakened from a nap. He blinked once or twice, licked dry lips, and began to grin. “Well … lookee here,” he said. “We got us company.”
“We came to see you.” Martha stated the obvious, then ran to give him his hug. “We wanted to visit awhile.”
“ That’s a wonderful idea,” he agreed, holding out his arms.
Olivia was right behind her older sister, and James trotted along on short legs, hopping a bit as he ran and squealing in his excitement.
“I think Grandma can find some cookies,” Marty began. “May not be as good as yer mama’s, but I think we got some here somewhere.”
Virginia set a small basket on the cupboard. “I brought a few things,” she said.
Marty hobbled across to where the basket sat and lifted back the tea towel that covered the contents. “Gingersnaps. My favorite. And some lemon cake.” She smacked her lips and turned to her husband. “What do ya think of thet, Pa? Lemon cake. Haven’t had thet fer a while. I’ll put on the tea water.”
“You just sit yerself,” said Mr. Simcoe, moving to get the kettle. “I’ll put on the tea water.”
Clark chuckled. “ They have them one awful time,” he said, seeming amused. “Jest like two younguns, the two of ’em. Always jawin’ at one another.”
“She still thinks she’s a teenager,” noted Mr. Simcoe play? fully.
“An’ he thinks I’m an ole woman,” she countered.
From his corner vantage point, Clark chuckled again. Virginia went to kiss him on the cheek.
“Where’s your other one?” he asked suddenly.
At Virginia’s puzzled expression he went on, “You got another one, haven’t ya?”
“Mindy? She’s in school.”
“She in school already? My, seems she’s jest a little thing. In school already. They do grow up.”
Come fall, Mindy would be in fifth grade and Martha would be starting off to school. But Virginia noted that her grandfather had not seen Mindy for a while. It would not be surprising if he were having difficulty keeping all the children sorted out. She dismissed the comment as natural enough in the circumstances.
T
hey sipped their tea while the children played on the floor by the table. Virginia could not get used to a man moving about her grandmother’s kitchen. But it did not seem to bother Marty. She wanted to talk. Talk about family. About the difficulties of another winter. About the warming of spring and the garden Virginia had planted. Eventually Virginia began to relax. Maybe life for her grandparents hadn’t changed so much after all.
But yes—it had. It was evident when she bit into one of her grandmother’s sugar cookies. They were not the same as in the past. It was all she could do to nonchalantly keep chewing.
“I think I got a bit too much baking soda,” Marty mused. “I fergit sometimes.”
Her grandfather chuckled. “Ya shoulda been here the other day,” he told Virginia, his eyes sparkling with merriment. “Ma was in the midst of baking up some of her biscuits—an’ the phone rang. It was Belinda, an’ by the time she finished her chat she couldn’t remember a thing. Couldn’t tell what she had put in an’ what she hadn’t. An’ tastin’ the flour mix didn’t help her none. It turned out she put in a double dose of salt—an’ no sugar.”
Marty laughed right along with him as though it were a great joke on herself. “Had to throw thet batch out,” she said.
Now Clark laughed aloud. “This time ya didn’t try buryin’ ’em in the garden.”
“Oh, ya’d have to bring that old story up again,” she said in mock disgust. Then she laughed, too. “My, my, that was a long time ago. … ”
The look her grandparents exchanged made Virginia’s heart twist with an emotion she could not have described.
Their marriage has been such an example to all of us
, she mused.
Grandma Marty was saying, “Harry here makes a good batch of bread. I love to smell it baking. Every Tuesday and Friday—them’s his bakin’ days.”
So Harry Simcoe baked bread. Virginia should not have been surprised. He’d had lots of years as a bachelor.
“Well … I do git mixed up sometimes,” admitted Marty, not seeming the least embarrassed about it. “My mind jest don’t stay on it like it used to.”
“We ain’t suffered thet I can tell,” responded Clark. “I git myself any heavier and Harry here won’t be able to lift me.”
“I think we both put us on some pounds since Harry’s come,” Marty informed her granddaughter. Virginia could not see that they had, but they had both lost some weight in recent years. Perhaps more than she had realized. They had needed to put on a few pounds. Even now her grandmother’s shoulder blades looked bony under the cotton housedress.
Small Martha now came across the room dragging Clark’s prosthesis. “Grandpa Clark,” she asked. “Do you need your leg?”
Now, where in the world did she find that?
wondered Virginia, quickly rising to her feet.
But her grandfather laughed heartily and took the artificial limb from the child. “You think I need thet? Tell you what—I don’t use thet there thing much anymore. Jest a nuisance. I jest use this here cane—an’ Harry’s nice strong arm. We git us anywhere thet I need to go.”
Martha looked from her great-grandfather to Mr. Simcoe. She seemed to be thinking that this new houseguest maybe had taken away some of their fun. She had loved to help Grandfather Clark strap on his leg.
Virginia glanced at the clock. “I must get on home,” she said reluctantly. “I promised Jonathan I’d be home in plenty of time to get dinner.”
Marty moved as though to jump up, but a spasm of pain passed over her face, and she settled back in her chair. “I’m so glad ya come. It’s been a long time since ya been over. Pa and me been talkin’ about ya and wonderin’ how things are goin’.”
Virginia ached to be able to talk with her grandparents about the situation with Mindy—but she could not. They still could not freely talk about the court case because they did not wish Mindy to be traumatized by the whole event.
“Well, I was mighty glad to see another spring come,” Virginia said, hoping her voice held a light note.
“Aren’t we all,” responded her grandmother. “But then, I been thet way every spring since I can remember. Yet when thet first snow falls, I must admit I feel rather snug. Like God is tucking me in with His white blanket fer the winter. Sort of a time to slow down and ponder a bit ’bout all of the blessin’s of the year past. Funny how it goes.”
Virginia nodded.
“Guess He made the seasons fer a good purpose,” said her grandfather, then held out his hands. “Now bring those younguns over here, and we’ll pray before you go.” It had always been his ritual, this little gathering close of family members as he prayed for them before they left his home. He did so now. His wavering voice suddenly became stronger and more sure. With arms that pulled them all close against his knees, He asked God for His continued care and protection upon those they loved.
Virginia felt the tears behind her eyelids. It was a wonder? ful comfort to know her grandfather’s prayers were as strong as ever—even though his body was showing signs of weakening.
Jonathan’s reputation as a rancher had become well-known, and the young horses brought in more than expected at the spring sale. Virginia looked at the bank statement Jonathan brought home. What a difference it could have meant to their livelihood had it really been theirs. Much of it would go to pay the bank loan for the lawyer’s initial fee. And the rest would be sorely needed for the next batch of bills. It would not go for the addition to the house as Jonathan and Virginia had previously planned. They needed more room. More bedrooms for the growing family. With Slate occupying one of the small bedrooms, three were just not enough.
Virginia wondered woodenly if the addition ever would happen. Would some other family be living in their house in the future? Would they lose the horses? The farm? Would it take everything they had to fight for Mindy? And would it even work …? She shook off her frightening thoughts.
Mentally Virginia ticked each day off the calendar on the wall. They were getting closer and closer to the court date. Did she want the time to go any faster? What would it mean to all of them?
Slate continued to visit Lucy, and Jonathan let him borrow the motorcar on Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons. Virginia hoped and prayed that the young people were not already making plans. They were not prepared to lose Slate. Nor could they pay him more.
One evening Jonathan said to Virginia, “Had a little chat with Slate this morning.”
Virginia waited.
“Felt he needed to know exactly what’s going on. Also wanted to be straight with him on the farm situation. Told him what I’d planned to do.” He hesitated. “He seemed right excited about the prospect of being partner with us.”
There was a moment’s silence before Jonathan went on. “I also told him that things had sort of turned aside at the moment.”
Virginia thought that was putting it mildly.
“I felt I could trust him with the facts of our situation with Mindy. He assured me he would tell no one—not even Lucy.”
Virginia nodded, relieved that Slate now knew what was going on.
“He said they are in no hurry. Lucy’s folks, though approving of Slate, think they are both too young to take on marriage yet. They want them to wait a spell.”
Virginia was again relieved. They wouldn’t lose Slate, and he wouldn’t need to give up his plans, either.
“He would like to get working on his house though. Says he wants to rough-frame it in, then finish as time and money allow. He’s got some money coming from his grandfather’s estate. Not a big sum—but it’ll allow him to buy building materials and get started.”
“I hadn’t known,” Virginia remarked.
“No, he hasn’t talked about it before.”
Jonathan was very quiet. Virginia knew something had him deep in thought. At last he said, “When he knew just how things were with Mindy, the costs and all—he offered the money—outright—to help pay the lawyer fees.”
Virginia knew the young man’s generosity had touched Jonathan as deeply as it now touched her. What a sweet and unselfish thing to do—and him courting Lucy and planning their house together.
“Of course we can’t take it,” she said unnecessarily.
“Of course not.”
Virginia brushed away tears.
The trial date was upon them. Once again Belinda came to care for the children. Virginia’s hands trembled as she packed their bags. She did not know how long they would be gone—nor, of course, the outcome when this was finally over. Would they still be family? Would Mindy be ordered to live in a strange new world with a woman who had no idea how to take care of a child—a woman who was dying? Virginia’s heart constricted, and for the thousandth time she prayed, “Father, please help us. Help Mindy. … ”
They said their good-byes and climbed into the motorcar. This time the roads were passable and they would drive. Drew would travel with them and be on hand to help in any way he could. Having the car would certainly give them more mobility in the city.
Virginia wept silent tears for the first several miles. The two men did not even attempt to distract her or to comfort her.
Perhaps
, she thought,
they wished they could be free to express their feelings in just the same way
.
The road stretched endlessly before them. She had thought the train ride tiresome, but it seemed that the car was even more so. It was hot, and the breeze from the open windows blew her hair about her face in a fashion she found most agitating. She yearned for a chance to get out and stretch her legs.
At length her father, who had taken a turn at the steering wheel, pulled up to the side of the road in the shade of a spruce tree. “What say we have a bit of that lunch you prepared?”
Virginia was only too glad to present the basket and focus her attention on laying out the contents. But her appetite seemed to have deserted her. She noted that Jonathan did not eat very much, either.
Eventually she walked about the area. The natural breeze across the fields of barley felt much more comfortable against her cheeks than the hot wind in the moving car. She tipped her face toward it, hoping it would cool her flushed cheeks.
And then it was time to move on again. Reluctantly she repacked the basket, replaced the lid, and passed it to Jona? than.
He touched Virginia’s shoulder. “Would you like a turn in the front with your father?”
“You go ahead. I’m fine in the backseat,” she answered, trying to smile.
“Go on. Sit up front for a while. You’ll get a much better look at the countryside from there.”
Numbly Virginia allowed Jonathan to help her into the front seat. It was cooler in the front, and the wind was not so wild.
She turned to look back at Jonathan. He had leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She wondered if he was getting some sleep. Or perhaps he was simply resting. Or praying. They had done a lot of that recently.
You love Mindy even more than we do, Lord
, her heart whispered as she watched the grasses beside the road wave in the wind.
She is your child first of all. We entrust her into your care
.
Virginia took some comfort in that thought.
Virginia had never experienced such agonizing, difficult days as those facing them in that city courtroom. The lawyers paced the floor or stood thoughtfully, droned or shouted by turn, reiterating the same material, the same charges and countercharges. Virginia wanted to tune it out. In fact, she often did.
