The Promise of Morning (35 page)

He lifted Graciana off his knees and stood, intending to search for Ruby, when the person behind him hissed, “Siddown! I can’t see.”

Matthew dropped back onto the bench, resettling Graciana on his lap. Once the drama played itself out, concluding with the rightful king of Scotland being acclaimed, Matthew took Gra-ciana’s hand. He slipped out of the row and led her to the area behind the stage.

Players in the troupe jostled each other as they pulled off headgear and removed their outer costumes. At the rear of the building, a door opened. A woman emerged, holding out a hand toward a man standing nearby.

“Give me your cloak before you tear it.”

As he handed it to her, she looked up and locked eyes with Matthew. The color drained from her face. Backing up, she stepped into the room she had just left and slammed the door.

Ruby!

He looked down at Graciana, who was staring around at the backstage commotion. He needed to talk to Ruby alone. Packing crates lined the hallway. He led the child to one not far from the door Ruby had just slammed.

“Wait here. I have something to do.”

Tears filled her eyes. She dropped her head and pinched the folds of her skirt. “You’re going to leave me here, aren’t you?” Her voice was so soft Matthew had to strain to hear her.

He lifted Graciana onto one of the crates. “See that door?”

She nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks.

“That’s where I’ll be. I promise I’ll be back in a few minutes. If you get worried, come and get me.”

He pulled her into a hug, resting his cheek on top of her head. Then, oblivious to stares and muttered complaints, Matthew shoved through the milling performers and knocked on the closed door.

“Go away.”

Instead, he pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. He and Ruby stared at each other in silence. She looked thinner than he remembered, and her skin bore a grayish tinge.

She turned her head away. “I have work to do. We need to be packed up and on the road.”

“So you can cheat another innkeeper out of the price of lodging?” He bit his tongue. Wise men turn away wrath.

Ruby’s face flushed. “Mr. Bryant was paid. We sent him a draft.” She looked bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

Matthew searched for a place to sit in the crowded space. Locating a closed trunk, he lowered himself onto it. “I believe it was the Lord’s leading. With everything that’s happened, it can’t be a coincidence.” He held out his hand to the woman who had been part of his life since the day he’d married Ellie. “I want you to come home with me. Your place is with your husband and family.”

She clutched a crimson cloak to her chest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Arthur’s not my husband any more.” Her voice caught in her throat as she said the words.

“Leaving him doesn’t cancel the bonds of matrimony.”

“No, but divorce does.” Her lower lip trembled. She shoved a stack of clothing to the floor and sat on a chair facing him.

Matthew tried to hide his shock at her words. “Divorce?” He knew very little of the procedure, but he believed that she would have to wait a minimum of two years to sever her marriage ties. “It’s only been a few months. You cannot be divorced.”

“I already filed the papers.” Ruby’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I can’t go back now.”

“Yes, you can. Talk to whoever it was did the filing and tell him you changed your mind.”

She broke down, burying her face in the red folds of the cloak she held. Matthew moved over to her and settled an arm around her shoulders, feeling sobs shake her body.

“I did a terrible thing,” she choked. “An unforgivable thing. There’s no going back.”

A sharp rap sounded at the door. Sorrel Forsythe stood in the opening, surprise written across his features. “Why aren’t you packing?” His jaw dropped when he recognized Matthew. “What . . . what are you doing here?”

Matthew stood. “I came to take a member of my family home with me.”

Forsythe looked between Matthew and Ruby. “She’s done nothing but snivel since we left that backward town of yours. It’s no superstition that
Macbeth
is a bad luck play. Meeting this woman has been the worst luck I’ve ever had.” He grabbed the cloak from Ruby’s hands. “You’re welcome to her.”

Ruby avoided Matthew’s gaze. “I can’t face people. Especially Arthur. He’s a good man.” She glanced at Sorrel Forsythe. “Good through and through. Not just on the surface.”

Watching them, Matthew recognized that Ruby stayed because it was preferable to the humiliation of returning. With a stroke of intuition, he recognized the parallel between their situations.

He cupped one hand around the back of her head and lightly kissed her forehead. “People forget, sooner than you think. Something new always comes along to catch their attention.”

She pulled free of his embrace, shaking her head. “I won’t go back to Beldon Grove. Leave. Please.”

27

Dust rose beyond the willows. Ellie stood, her sewing basket in one hand. “Maria, Mr. Beldon is coming. Time to go.”

Maria bounded down the stairs. “I’m ready.” She wore her apple green dress, made from the same fabric as the frock Ellie wore. She twirled. “How do I look?”

“Very nice—but you and Lily will be playing outside. Be sure you don’t get dirty.”

“I’ll be careful. I wore this because Mr. Beldon is driving us. He calls me a pretty little girl.”

Ellie flushed, realizing that her reactions to Mr. Beldon’s flattery had transferred themselves to her daughter. “It doesn’t matter what he calls you. It’s Papa’s opinion that counts.”

“But Mama—”

“The ride to Aunt Molly’s this afternoon is the last time we’ll be with Mr. Beldon. After this, we walk or stay home.”

“Does he know that?”

“He will soon.”

When the phaeton crossed the bridge, Ellie and Maria stepped onto the back porch. Mr. Beldon stopped the carriage and came toward them, a smile creasing his features.

He swept his hat off and bowed. “Don’t you two look like a picture! Such pretty ladies.”

“Thank you.” Maria beamed at him, then glanced at Ellie and dropped her smile.

Once they were headed toward town, Ellie turned sideways and studied him. His white linen jacket looked rumpled and sweat-stained. Tired lines etched the skin next to his eyes.

His face brightened when he noticed her watching him. “What time would you like me to collect you at Spenglers’ house?”

“It would be best if I had Dr. Spengler take us home. I fear there will be too much talk in town should you continue to escort me to and fro.”

Anger flared across his features. He stared ahead saying nothing, a muscle twitching in his jaw. In silence they passed Wolcotts’ farm, then Uncle Arthur’s lane and Griffiths’ pottery works.

When he didn’t reply, Ellie relaxed against the seat.

Mr. Beldon turned the corner at Adams Street and brought the carriage to a halt in front of Molly’s house. When he looked at Ellie, all traces of anger had left his face, replaced by his usual smile. “I hope you will allow me one last opportunity to convey you and your charming daughter to your home. As it happens, I’ve discovered information that will be of great interest to you regarding that matter in Texas. I’ll bring it with me when I come back later this afternoon.” He waited her response with one eyebrow raised.

Ellie bit her lower lip, torn between curiosity and her promise to her sons. She nodded at him. “Very well. I’ll expect you some time after four.” She held up her index finger. “After this, however, we will find other ways to get to town.”

“Of course. I understand.” He stepped to the ground and walked to her side of the phaeton. “Allow me.”

Mr. Beldon took her arm and helped her down. “I’ll see you at four.”

Molly led the way to the rear of the house. “We’ll sit out here this afternoon. It’s cooler.”

Maria and Lily skipped ahead of her, chasing each other in circles and giggling. Ellie followed, her thoughts in turmoil. She could picture the expressions on the twins’ faces when Mr. Beldon brought them home, after she promised she’d no longer ride with him.

When she turned the corner behind the house, she saw Luellen sitting at a makeshift table under the silver maple Molly and Karl had planted to commemorate their wedding. Head bent, she stitched something on the back of her honeycomb quilt.

Ellie squeezed her shoulder. “This is a pleasant surprise, young lady. I’m glad you’re helping today.”

“Charity couldn’t be here,” Molly said. She lowered her voice. “I think they have a passenger from the Railroad with them at the farm right now.”

Ellie nodded understanding. “Looks like you didn’t need me anyway. I see the binding’s finished.” She moved closer to the table. “Let’s turn it over. I want to see our handiwork. Maria, Lily, come here and help.” She paused and studied the words Luellen had embroidered on the back of the quilt.

Luellen McGarvie.

Beldon Grove, Illinois.

July 30, 1846.

Ellie smiled at her niece. “What a nice beginning to your bridal chest.”

Luellen gripped a corner of the quilt and rolled the patterned side to the top. The colors bloomed in the light. She stroked the pattern with her fingertips. “It
is
beautiful—like flowers.” Then she raised her chin and looked at her mother. “But I’m not going to be a bride.”

Molly shook her head. “Don’t be silly. Someday you’ll change your mind.” She patted Luellen’s back. “Who’d like some Scotch bread?” Without waiting for an answer, she strode back into the house.

Ellie watched her go, glancing at Luellen. The girl’s face was set in the same stubborn lines she often saw on Matthew’s.

“I’ll help you fold your quilt. We don’t want to get crumbs on such a lovely piece of work.”

At rest in the variegated shade cast by the maple tree, Ellie helped herself to more Scotch bread. Maria and Lily sprawled on the ground nearby, busy weaving chains from the daisies that starred the grass. Luellen had taken the quilt into the house and returned with a book. She sat a little apart from them, engrossed in the story she was reading.

“Mr. Beldon will be here soon,” Ellie said to Maria. “Gather your things.”

When Maria stood, Molly added, “Don’t forget to take those loaves of bread with you.”

Maria nodded, skipping toward the cabin door.

Ellie touched Molly’s arm. “Thank you. Wheat bread is a treat nowadays.”

“You and Matt have done so much for me—this is nothing.” Molly shifted on the bench and lowered her voice. “I love your company, but perhaps you shouldn’t accept any more rides from Mr. Beldon. I’m afraid people will talk.”

“I told him so earlier. This is the last time.” Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “The twins compared me to Aunt Ruby the other day.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can’t have my children thinking ill of me.”

“Oh, Ellie.” Compassion showed on Molly’s face. “How unfair of them.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I explained that he’s offered to help me learn about my family in Texas.” The silvery undersides of the maple leaves trembled as a breeze ruffled past. “The boys scoffed at the idea.”

A frown creased Molly’s forehead. “I’m beginning to wonder too.”

“About what?”

“Whether he has any contacts at all. He apparently had nothing to do with James’s return.”

Ellie brushed crumbs from her skirt. “He said he would bring me information this afternoon—that’s the only reason I agreed to let him take us home.”

The two women stood when they heard hooves on the dirt road.

Molly took Ellie’s hand. “Let me know what he says.” She kissed her cheek. “We’ll come get you for church on Sunday morning. We plan to go to the service Mr. Wolcott is conducting.”

Ellie massaged her temples. How could she accept Mr. Beldon’s help and then not attend his church?

At that moment, he appeared around the side of the cabin. He’d changed into a fresh shirt and jacket. “There you are, ladies.” Sweeping off his broad-brimmed hat, he bowed in their direction.

Molly nodded a lukewarm greeting.

“Your daughter has already seated herself in the carriage,” he told Ellie. “We can be away whenever you’re ready.”