The Jewel of His Heart (35 page)

“I’m impressed. These are very good. Do you know all the artists?” Juliana asked.

Helen smiled proudly. “Yes indeed. All were more than willing to donate for a good cause. It helps to be the mayor’s wife. I have a little bit of influence.” Helen’s blue eyes danced. “Fanny Cooney donated several of her watercolors of children. Then there’s a few of Charlie Russell’s, and one Howard Stockton was kind enough to contribute. Some of the best are our own Esther White’s paintings of various landscapes in oil.”

Juliana was taken aback and looked over at Esther in surprise. “My goodness, Esther. I wasn’t aware you were an artist. How delightful!” Juliana realized she knew very little about Esther or her life.

Esther had the decency to appear modest. “I’ve been painting since I was twelve.”

Juliana exclaimed, “Well, they are quite beautiful. I’m sure these will sell.”

Helen clapped her hands. “Ladies, we must get busy. At least we don’t have to set up refreshments. But I think there’s going to be a large crowd today.”

They worked for two hours, lining the walls of the room with landscapes of flowers in oil and watercolors of children. Juliana suggested they not hang them in order of size. Instead, Helen took her suggestion of varying the placement of size to draw the eye of the guests to the different works of art.

“I must say, Juliana, for one so young you have quite an eye for this sort of thing. Esther will place a card at the corner of each piece with a suggested value, since this is her field. I’ve never held an art show, so I’m worried about its success. Of course, this will be just one of our fund-raisers. We’ll have to come up with several ideas throughout the year to continue to raise money.”

Esther glanced at Juliana. “Perhaps we should invite Juliana to be a part of our ladies club. It seems as though she has a lot to offer.”

Juliana couldn’t believe her ears. Maybe Esther had a heart after all.

“Excellent idea. I’m sure the rest would agree, and I’ll tell them. We need fresh ideas.”

Amusement touched Juliana’s lips, and she forced back a giggle.
New, fresh blood?
she couldn’t help but think. It was hard to think of herself in that light.

“Thank you, ladies. I’d be honored to be involved in the community work. Just think—I could continue to write the column but wouldn’t need an invitation.”

A small smile crossed Esther’s lips. “Then it’s settled. We’ll vote on it.”

Juliana felt her heart begin to warm toward Esther, and she was flattered that the women thought she would be an asset to their group.

Right before the guests would arrive, Juliana walked around and stood admiring all the artists’ work. Upon closer inspection, she found the sketch that had hung in the Stockton Hotel. She walked closer, looking at Josh’s eyes. The artist had captured the light of Josh’s soul through his amber eyes, and Josh’s love for his dog through the way he laid his hand on Shebe’s head.

She loved the picture. She must have it! She looked at the suggested price and gulped. She could never afford fifty dollars, but oh, did she ever want it. Her mind was thrashing around with the idea of owning that sketch. Why not use some of the reward money? At first she hadn’t wanted any part of the money, but now she realized this was the perfect thing to do, and it’d be for a good cause. She felt like hugging herself to think she would finally own the sketch, but she needed to tell Helen before someone else made an offer.

A flurry of activity at the door signaled that Natalie, Louise, Miss Margaret, and Cynthia had arrived, laden with baskets of finger sandwiches and desserts. Marion came right behind them, carrying large tablecloths and a punch bowl. Juliana watched them all congregated in the corner, feeling left out while she stood deciding about the sketch. Natalie left the group and walked over to her, urging her toward the other ladies.

Louise drew her toward the group. “It gives me great pleasure to tell you that you’re now a member of the Lewistown Ladies Social Club!” The ladies clapped and cheered, congratulating her as though it was the most enviable club to belong to, and Miss Margaret banged her cane on the floor.

Juliana stepped forward, expressing her thanks. It felt good to be a part of a group for the first time in her life. “I’m honored, and I will work hard to do what I can to further the good of our community.” There was another round of applause.

Natalie tapped a punch cup to get their attention. “I want to further add that Marion has accepted the position to be the teacher once the new school is built.”

Marion beamed and accepted the ladies’ congratulations. “I hope I can call on each of you from time to time to help out with some of the specifics I’ll be teaching.”

Juliana was so tickled that her friend would now have something to center her life on. “I’ll be more than happy to help with reading and literature, Marion.”

“And I’ll be taking you up on that! Thanks, Juliana.”

Marion seemed quieter than normal. Juliana would try to visit her soon. She owed her a lot and hoped they would always be friends. She focused her attention back to Helen and her instructions.

“Things are shaping up nicely,” Helen declared to everyone, looking around the fellowship hall. “I have a string quartet that will be using this end of the room and will be playing as our guests arrive.” Her comment brought a rousing response from the ladies.

“It looks like you’ve thought of everything,” Miss Margaret said.

“If you’d like, I’ll stand next to the door and play the role of greeter,” Natalie offered.

“Perfect. Louise, you take the clipboard and keep track of what we sell. Marion, you can serve the punch. Cynthia, you handle the snacks. The rest of us will play hostess.”

Juliana touched Helen on the sleeve, pulling her away. “I want to be the first to purchase a piece of art,” she said in a hushed tone.

Helen eyes widened, and she cleared her throat. “Dear, we simply
must
start at the suggested price.”

“I understand, Helen. But I have the reward money from the bank, and I want to use some of it for that.” Juliana’s smile faded, and she looked away, exhaling slowly as she remembered how the money came about.

“Honey, I think that’s a fine idea. I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t own one. Which one are you interested in? I’ll tag it sold. That should start things moving in the right direction when people see that one is purchased before we even start.”

“I want the sketch of the sheepherder and his dog.”

“Excellent choice! Russell is gaining ground as a popular Western artist. But something tells me by the look on your face that you know the subject.” Helen stared at her.

Juliana hesitated. “Oh, all right. I do. His name is Josh McBride, and we’re courting.” It felt good to say it out loud.

Helen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Ah ha, I knew there had to be a reason. I’ll tag the picture, and you go mingle with our guests,” she said, and scurried off.

The quartet arrived right on time, and lovely violin music filled the fellowship hall while guests perused the artwork. They dined on the delicate sandwiches and punch served from a beautiful etched glass bowl with matching cups. Marion had borrowed the dishes from the hotel, and along with the silver trays of food, they transformed the lowly room to a more formal one.

To be sure, Helen had a vast array of friends, some with lots of money, Josh thought. He’d worn the suit he’d quickly ordered right after the fire, but it was a tad snug on his thick chest and arms. The string tie at his neck was tight too, making him uncomfortable. He’d needed it fast to wear to church, but soon he’d have to find a tailor to make one that fit him right. He wasn’t crazy about dressing up anyway. He was more comfortable in his jeans, chambray shirt, and a great pair of boots.

He strained to see over the heads of everyone in the room to locate Juliana. He walked among the people with a nod of his head to several. He said hello to Albert and Sally, then stood talking with them when he spotted Juliana. She was standing with Cynthia and Jane, who sat in her wheelchair alongside Mark. Juliana’s head was slightly tilted, and when her laughter floated across the room, he felt a ping in his heart. Josh studied the outline of her shape in what appeared to be a new blue dress, which showed off every curve when she bent down to speak to Jane. She looked lovely and fresh as a flower. His hand holding the cup of punch shook, and he felt for the small box in his suit pocket, giving it a pat.

“I have my eye on that winter landscape,” Albert said. “What do you think, Sally?”

Sally took Albert’s arm. “Let’s go have a closer look. Will you excuse us, Josh?”

“Yes, of course.” Josh moved toward Juliana just as he saw Wes approach the group. He was surprised to see him here. He didn’t appear to have a lot of money, or if he did, he spent it on his fine belt and boots. Josh figured Wes thought of this as just another way to meet ladies. He’d better go see what Wes was up to, but as he moved toward the cowboy, Miss Margaret used her cane as a hook to catch his arm. “Young man, come here a moment.”

“Nice show going on here,” Wes said. His tall, lanky form leaned in close to Juliana. “I don’t know the first thing about art, but I know when I see a picture I like. What about you folks?” he said, addressing the small group.

Mark was the first to respond. “Art is subjective. Its beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” He smiled down at Jane, who smiled back at him.

Wes had a quizzical look on his face. “Sub . . . what?”

“Mark means that everyone has a different way of looking at art. What one might like or see in a picture, others would disagree about,” Juliana said. Mark cleared his throat, apparently stifling a laugh.

“Okay, I get it now.” Wes grinned and stood staring at the art on the wall, his hip slumped to one side and his arms crossed.

Juliana noticed that today he’d actually pressed his shirt and slicked his unruly hair down. He hadn’t checked his Stetson at the door but twirled it in his long, thin fingers. So he
could
try to be civilized when it suited him.

Cynthia turned to Mark and asked, “Shall we get some refreshments? I think Jane is thirsty.”

“Sure thing,” Mark said. “How about you, Juliana? Even a hostess needs refreshment.”

“I’ll be along in a moment. I’d like a word with Wes.” Juliana decided she was going to be bold.

“Miss Juliana, are you still coming over next week?” Jane asked.

Juliana touched her hand. “You bet I will. How about I bring a board game?”

Jane’s face lit up. “Oh, I’d really like that.”

Mark pushed the wheelchair with Cynthia leading the way over to the table. Suddenly Juliana was alone with Wes, and she chewed her lip.

For the first time she noticed he had hazel eyes, a nice chiseled jawline, and a face bordering on thin. Why he ingratiated himself with their group, she hadn’t a clue, but she would be civil, God help her. Wes
had
helped her pull the carriage out of the mud on the way to the funeral. She tried to remember what Natalie said, that he really wasn’t all that bad. She’d have to see, but she was curious what he knew about her father. Something she’d read last night in Matthew came to mind—if she didn’t forgive others, then her Father in heaven wouldn’t forgive her. This was something Miss Margaret had repeated to Juliana more than once since her father had died. It wasn’t easy to do, but Juliana was trying hard.

Wes had whirled around and now looked surprised. “
You
want to talk to me? Well, ain’t it just my lucky day! I never thought you would be saying that to me.”

Juliana sucked in a deep breath. “It’s nothing personal, Wes, so don’t get your hopes up. I wanted to ask you how you knew my father.”

Wes leaned back on his boot heels, his grin suddenly gone. His gaze traveled over her with an admiring look. “I met Davin one day at Big Spring Creek. He was panning for gold, and I was on my way to Lewistown. He invited me to have a bite to eat, and we struck up an unusual friendship of sorts.”

Juliana sighed. “What was he like?”

“I know what you’re thinkin’.” Wes shook his head. “But he seemed to be a decent, hardworking man as far as I could tell, who just took the wrong bend in the road of life. I think he was desperate to strike it rich, and then when he got back here, he found out his wife, uh, sorry—your mother—had died. He told me about the bank deal without really meaning to. It surprised me that he didn’t spend the money but hid it. If it were me, I think I’d be hard-pressed not to have kept running with my saddlebags full, then find me a woman and have a heck of a time for sure.”

“I’m sure you would, Wes. Thanks for telling me. I—”

Wes touched her arm, staying her. “Now see here, Juliana. I may not know art, but I sure know a good-looking woman standing before me. How about I get us some punch?”

She stiffened, trying to pull away. “I beg your pardon, please let go of my arm.”

Suddenly Josh was standing next to her. He shoved Wes’s shoulder hard, pushing him away from Juliana, and Wes tried to steady himself against the punch bowl table. Marion was unable to stop the bowl from shaking sideways, and the punch sloshed all over the damask white tablecloth. Cynthia grabbed a napkin to quickly try to soak up the mess, but it was too late. Half the sandwiches were now soaked with pink punch.