Chapter 5

Ben had been right. That was the first thought that crossed Josefa’s mind as she looked at Oswald’s house. To think, she might someday live here, if all went according to her plan.

“It’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen,” Josefa said. Immediately, she wished Agnes had chosen to ride over in the carriage instead of the plain old work wagon. They were paying a return call on a new neighbor, after all. An impressive new neighbor, even if Agnes and Lupita were slightly put out with him.

Agnes and Lupita, on the wagon’s front bench, stayed silent as they looked at the two-and-a-half-story house, so new it still smelled of fresh-sawn pine. Agnes halted the wagon as they stared.

“Why are we here? Remind me,” said Lupita drily.

“This is a duty call,” Agnes said. “He’s visited twice. We have to pay our respects.”

“Si, I know that,” Lupita said.

“One, two, three,” Polly counted aloud while kneeling in the wagon bed and looking between the shoulders of Agnes and Lupita. “Three windows on each side of the front door. Three on each side of the door on the second floor. Plus all those windows on that enclosed side porch.” She continued her recitation of standout details as though the others were in need of her commentary.

Josefa stayed seated on a blanket in the back of the wagon, legs folded to one side and tucked under her body. Agnes had inched the wagon forward on the U-shaped sand drive as Polly talked. She halted the mule when they reached the front door. The fineness of the house’s embellishments came into sharper focus. Etched, beveled glass glinted in the double door’s sidelights and transom. The fresh white paint shimmered against the dark green of the shutters.

“The windows are nearly tall enough for a person to walk in and out,” Josefa said. “Oh, look, there are latches on them. A person could walk in and out!”

“Quite imposing, this house,” Agnes finally said. “The most lavish in all Persimmon Hollow, excepting the Stetson mansion, and that’s far west of town. This place is large enough to house quite a family.”

“That’s the problem,” Lupita said. “Where is the family?”

Josefa imagined herself mistress of such an estate. She imagined moon-kissed dances on the enclosed side porch, with breezes blowing through open windows and people strolling in and out, sampling delicacies laid out on silver trays on tables covered with fine lace and linen tablecloths that draped to the floor, and—

“I said, ‘Josefa, has Mr. Heller said anything to you about family members joining him here?’” Agnes repeated.

Josefa awoke from her reverie. “No, we haven’t talked much yet.”

“It just seems so empty, as though it needs warmth,” Agnes observed.

Polly gave Josefa a jab with her elbow. “Yeah, as though it needs someone like you,” she said.

“The man is too mysterious,” Lupita declared. “Why build something this large when he has no family here? No one person needs a house of this size.”

“Let’s not judge,” Agnes cautioned. “We hardly know him.”

Lupita crossed her arms over her chest. Josefa lifted her gaze toward the gentle blue of the late morning sky and prayed that Oswald would lower his obvious pride and seek permission to court her.

No one had come to the door at the sound of their arrival, and they sat a few moments longer before Agnes started to get out of the cart.

“For such a gorgeous day, I feel almost as though we shouldn’t be here,” she said. “There’s no welcoming atmosphere. Well, let’s drop off the pie and marmalade. It’s a rare person who doesn’t think that pie tastes like real apples, hard as they are to come by sometimes.”

Josefa took the basket of marmalades, and Polly carried the mock apple pie as the four of them climbed the steps to the porch and knocked on the door. A flock of robins swept through the yard and pecked and poked for long minutes before flying off. Still, the women waited. Agnes knocked again. The door opened with a sharp, fast swing.

“Ladies, forgive me, the servants haven’t yet been trained,” said Oswald, foregoing any niceties of greeting and not in the least surprised to see them. “To what do I owe this honor?” He bowed, stood aside, and beckoned them inside. He was proper, charming, correct, and, Josefa decided, cold. His eyes lacked warmth, that was it.

“No, thank you, we can’t stay,” Agnes said, to Josefa’s bewilderment. She, for one, wanted to see inside.

“We’re here to deliver a formal welcome to Persimmon Hollow,” Agnes continued and motioned for Josefa and Polly to present the foodstuffs. Polly made a stiff half-curtsy and thrust the pie forward.

“Much appreciated,” Oswald said. He stood against the door in the still-open doorway and set down the pie on a sideboard Josefa could see just inside the door.

She dropped into a deep, graceful curtsy, rose, and smiled at him as she presented the woven, palmetto-leaf basket. The contents were covered with a gingham cloth.

“Here you’ll find homemade marmalades, candied orange peel, and a loaf of freshly baked bread,” she said. “The citrus products are a sample of the types of goods the Taylors offer at their tourist store.”

“You can almost see it from here,” Agnes said and pointed. “It’s right at the edge of our property, near where the railroad laid its new line through last year.”

Oswald kept his gaze on Josefa. He took the basket and set it down on the sideboard without breaking the look.

“I’m honored,” he said and lifted her hand and kissed it. She felt herself flush from the feel of his lips through her thin glove. Their gazes locked. In his, she saw an assurance that she certainly didn’t feel in herself.

“Tia Lupita wove the basket from strips of palmetto leaves,” explained Polly.

Oswald looked at Polly as though she were an annoying gnat. Josefa saw his muscle work in his jaw and irritation cross his expression. He recovered and arranged his face in a pleasant mask.

“A most useful skill,” he said. He scrutinized Josefa again as the five of them stood there. Josefa felt more restless with each passing minute.

“Señora, I’d be honored to have your permission to visit this exquisite young lady,” he said to Lupita, while he continued to look at Josefa. She held her breath. She felt there was nothing else in the world but she, Oswald, and his stunning house.

Lupita didn’t answer right away. Josefa stared at the slats of wood in the porch floor.

Lupita finally nodded. “Visits only. Chaperoned. No leaving Taylor Grove.”

“But then how can he take Josefa to the dressmaker’s so she can start working at her apprenticeship…oops!” Polly clasped a hand over her mouth. Josefa groaned and closed her eyes. She opened them to see foxlike interest in Oswald’s face, thunder in her aunt’s, and questions in Agnes’s. Polly crept back a few steps and mouthed the word sorry to Josefa. But it was too late.

“I’m most happy to transport the señorita wherever she needs to go, whenever she needs to do so,” Oswald said. “Ladies, are you sure you won’t step inside?”

Lupita’s face grew darker by the second. Agnes shook her head. “Thank you, but no,” she said.

“When would you like me to escort you to town?” Oswald asked.

“Tomorrow,” Josefa blurted. It was the only thing that came to mind.

“On the first day of Holy Week?” Had they planned it, Agnes, Lupita, and Polly could not have spoken in more perfect unison.

“Just to meet with the dressmaker and review our agreement,” Josefa improvised. “I won’t start until after Easter.” Better to get this out in the open now. Oswald as a buffer could boost her cause.

“What time?” he asked, as though a storm didn’t rage around him.

“Josefa, do you really mean to go to town on the Sunday that starts Holy Week?” Agnes asked. “Does the dressmaker even keep hours on Sunday? I doubt it.”

“I mean, Monday, eleven o’clock,” Josefa said, flustered. She hoped the dressmaker would be there. Eleven o’clock on a Monday. Of course she would.

“My niece will not leave the premises tomorrow, or Monday, or the following day, nor ever, for any such activity,” Lupita stated.

“Tia, I sent my word to the dressmaker. I can’t go back on my word.” Josefa forced herself to appear calm. They didn’t need to know she hadn’t indicated in her letter what day or time she’d be in town.

Oswald looked amused.

Agnes swirled around. “Good day, Mr. Heller. Ladies, we have overstayed our welcome.” With each free hand, she grasped Lupita’s arm and Josefa’s and marched them toward the cart. Polly was already there, having hopped down the steps and into the wagon when Oswald asked what time he should arrive.

Josefa glanced back and saw Oswald full frame in the door, leaning against the doorframe with one arm up for support. He raised the other arm in a farewell gesture.

“Eleven on Monday,” he repeated. No one answered.

“It got hot up there,” Polly said by way of excuse for not saying a proper goodbye.

They weren’t yet to the end of the drive before Lupita spoke up.

“Your impulsive ways are one reason I wish to ship you off to safety with our Texas relatives!”

“Impulsive ideas based on fancy and whim,” she continued. “Mr. Heller is not for you. I have a feeling.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Josefa asked. “If you ask me, he could make a suitable husband.”

She saw Agnes glance at Lupita as though considering the same question.

“We don’t even know if he is Catholic,” Lupita said.

“True,” Agnes said. “I meant to invite him again to devotions and Mass.”

“I know nothing of his family,” Lupita continued.

“Yes, we do,” Polly protested. “They’re rich and own businesses in Philadelphia and Charleston.”

“The outside tells us little about the inside,” Lupita said. She had her arms crossed over her chest, but Josefa noted that her hands were relaxed and not clenched.

“We can take time to find out,” Josefa said. “I’ll learn more as we visit together.”

“She has a point,” Agnes said. “Like you, Lupita, I have questions about him, but it behooves us to give him a chance.”

Josefa seized the momentary ally. “Plus, I really can’t go back on my word to the dressmaker. It wouldn’t be right. Please, Aunt Lupita. You know what this means to me.”

Her aunt shifted so that she could look Josefa in the face. Josefa saw the love in her eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you I worry over you, Josefa? You went behind my back and didn’t ask about this dressmaking because you knew I would likely say no. This pains me.”

It pained Josefa, too, for she knew her omission was as bad as an outright lie.

“I need to go to confession,” she mumbled.

“That you do,” said Lupita.

“So it’s OK if I go visit the dressmaker Monday?” Josefa asked, her voice small.

The hope in her voice was poignant.

“Si, very well,” Lupita said. “I can see this is so important to you. I don’t understand why.”

Josefa felt ill-prepared to lay out for the small group her hopes and fears for the coming years. She still held them close to her heart.

She felt a smaller hand grasp hers. “Forgive me, Josefa, I didn’t mean…” Polly said.

Josefa squeezed her hand. “It had to come out sometime,” she said. She was relieved the plan was no longer a secret.

“Despite your underhanded behavior, I still may insist you decline the apprenticeship, should your uncle and I decide that is best,” Lupita continued. “I will speak with him as soon as we return. On the other hand, it may be better for you to stay in Persimmon Hollow while he recovers instead of going to Texas so soon.”

She turned toward Agnes. “You can invite our new friend to worship when he comes to escort Josefa. Although I doubt he will accept.”

“I can try,” said Agnes as they reached the end of Oswald’s long drive, crossed the railroad tracks, and rolled onto the grove’s property. “Let’s give him a chance, Lupita, even though we have reservations. And you know I’m one for saying God helps those who help themselves. Josefa wants to better herself. How about if we send Polly, and Billy too, as chaperones for this trip to the dressmaker on Monday. Surely Mr. Heller won’t mind.”

Surely he would, Josefa thought to herself.

“I need to make a quick stop at the orphanage,” Agnes added as they neared the tidy building that anchored one side of the grove acreage. “I want to find out if Father Kenny sent word about his arrival. He mentioned he might come for all of Holy Week, to teach the children and visit other mission sites. Plus, we’re almost in time for noon prayers.”

They halted, climbed out of the wagon, and waited until Polly gave the mule some water before walking together toward the orphanage. As they neared the front door, it opened, and a male voice said a hearty goodbye to Sister Rose. Seconds later, Ben exited. He walked forward but still looked behind him as he finished talking to Sister. When he turned face front, he nearly plowed into the four women.

***

Ben stopped short, his face open and welcoming. Josefa’s mood brightened.

“Morning!” he said and took a quick step back to the door and held it open for them. Sister Rose stepped out. “What is it, Ben…oh, hello! Come in.” She held out both her hands to Agnes, who took them and beckoned the others to follow her inside. What had been laborious and awkward at the Heller mansion was natural and warm here.

Rather than make his exit, Ben trailed inside after them.

“How’s the caterpillar?” he whispered from behind Josefa.

Josefa always felt like she had to whisper inside the orphanage anteroom, too. The space had a calm, peaceful atmosphere with a hint of incense from the frequent opening and closing of the double doors to the chapel. The myrrh and frankincense mingled with the clean aroma of wood soap. Cast-iron coat pegs above pine wainscoting, a few benches, and a narrow table just inside the doorway were the only pieces of furniture. The hallways that reached out from either side of the room were empty.

“It grows bigger by the day,” she whispered back.

“No need to keep your voices down right now,” Sister Rose said. “We’re not at services yet.” She glanced at the clock on the table. “Fifteen minutes. That’s why you’re here, yes?”

Josefa nodded. Sister Rose looked from one to the other. “Mr. Stillman, perhaps you can delay your next chore until after prayers?” she asked.

Ben nodded yes to Sister Rose but watched Josefa. “I reckon another half hour or so won’t matter,” he said. “The work there is finished. I’m waiting only for Heller to declare himself satisfied.”

“Then what?” asked Josefa, seized by a need to hear that Ben wouldn’t leave for who knows where. Not yet.

“I’ll help out here at the grove until your uncle is mended. That, plus assist the orphanage caretaker—Mr. Bight, I think is his name—build up his furniture stock.”

“His stock?” Agnes jumped into the conversation. “Why does Toby want to stockpile furniture?”

“For the store he’s going to open in town,” Sister Rose answered for Ben.

“How do you find out such things before anyone at the grove?” Agnes asked. “You’d think I’d know what’s going on with my best friend’s husband.”

Just then, footsteps fast, slow, loud, and soft came down the hallway.

“Could be because Toby is caretaker here, he and his lovely wife and children,” Sister Rose said, and her kind face creased in a smile as the anteroom filled with orphans and the entire Bight family, led by Toby and his wife, Sarah.

Agnes ran forward to meet Sarah as the small blond woman entered with a collection of children. Five of them were obviously hers, by appearance and by the varied clothes they wore. Another eight wore the orphanage uniform of gray frock with white apron, or gray pants with suspenders and homespun shirt. The orphans hung back, bashful for the first few minutes of any encounter with the grove residents.

“Sarah, what’s this about Toby opening a store?” Agnes asked.

“Not until the end of the year, at the earliest,” Sarah said as she hugged Agnes. “I’m happy for him.”

“He makes some of the finest furniture I’ve seen,” said Ben. “I’m mighty impressed. The young’uns here have a superb woodworking instructor in him.”

“We just settled on the timing last night,” Sarah said as she set down her toddler Noah in the care of her eldest, Pansy, who was busy whispering secrets with Polly. “I was just telling sister this morning at breakfast,” Sarah said. She began to explain the details to Agnes.

Josefa walked over to Ben, who had stepped back when the room filled.

“If the Bights relocate to town, Agnes will feel responsible for finding new caretakers for the orphanage,” she told him. “Toby handles the building’s needs, and Sarah does the cooking and helps with housekeeping. She also teaches some needlework. The five children with the reddish-blond hair, the ones who look alike, are the Bight children.”

“Ah, I wondered how everybody fit together,” Ben said.

“It’s going to be a big change,” Josefa said.

“Agnes, we’ll only be two miles away, not two hundred,” Sarah said on the other side of the room and laughed. She had healed, body and soul, during her time at the orphanage. Josefa had heard of Sarah’s struggles with melancholy and Toby’s business failures until he stopped trying to be the farmer he wasn’t meant to be.

“Josefa, maybe you could take over my duties as sewing instructor,” Sarah called to her.

“Why, yes, I’d be honored!” Then she gave a saucy look at her aunt. “I’ll have many new skills to share from my apprenticeship!”

She batted her eyes in an exaggerated manner toward Lupita, who replied with feigned exasperation.

“Silence, please. The worship hour is upon us,” Sister Rose called over the din. The room fell quiet as the group moved into the chapel. Josefa felt a hand at her elbow. It was Ben, escorting her into the chapel.

“Are you Catholic?” she asked, somewhat astonished at his action. She knew every Catholic in Persimmon Hollow. And just what was Ben doing at the orphanage anyway?

“I was baptized Catholic,” he said.

But…She opened her mouth then closed it. There was a but there, but she didn’t know him well enough to ask. Sarah whispered to her four oldest to join the sisters and others for prayer while she took Noah and fixed lunch for everyone. She closed the chapel doors on the hushed gathering seated quietly on benches.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” Sister Rose began and then led the service of prayers and readings. Josefa tried to stay focused, but her mind wandered to Ben beside her, to how natural it felt to pray with him, to what she had yet to sew on her new Easter outfit and what color trim she should use, the blue or the garnet, to the thought of Oswald and what a fine pair they would make. She tried to picture him here, at prayer beside her, but couldn’t grasp the image. No matter, she thought. Many men weren’t churchgoing before marriage. She could fix that afterward.

After the service, the Bights and orphans went off for lunch, and Josefa and the others started to say their goodbyes to Sister Rose and Sister Bridget, who had tiptoed in to the chapel a few minutes late.

“When is Father Kenny coming down, have you heard?” Agnes asked.

“We received word this morning,” Sister Rose said. “He’ll be here Wednesday to hear confessions, and he plans to stay through Easter Sunday. We are so blessed. He’ll be here for the stations of the cross and to conduct Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services. He also will instruct Mr. Stillman in his final confirmation studies.”

Ben colored slightly as he became the center of attention.

An inexplicable gladness suffused Josefa.

“Is that why you’re here today?” she asked him. He nodded. “Partly. Along with the work I’ll be doing for Seth, I’ve been here to shadow Toby and learn his routine.”

“So, you’ll stay in town a bit longer? That’s wonderful!”

“I think so, too,” he said.

She turned to see Agnes, Lupita, Sarah, and the sisters all watching them.

“My Josefa, she has big dreams of being a dressmaker,” Lupita said.

“Dreams are good,” said Ben, with a stout loyalty that Josefa appreciated.

Lupita raised her eyebrows. Agnes smiled.

“Ben, would you like to join us for Holy Week devotions?” Agnes asked.

“Ma’am, I’d be honored,” he said. “I’m a bit rusty at all this, but my heart’s willing.”

“That’s what it takes,” Lupita told him. “Now, tell us about your family.”

It was Josefa’s turn to blush. She wanted to run from her aunt’s blatant interrogations of any man of marriageable age, as though they all wished to ask for her hand. She loved Lupita dearly, but…she beseeched Agnes with a glance that asked for pity, but Agnes’s nonverbal reply made it clear there was no stopping Lupita once started.

“Where are you from?” Lupita peppered him with the first volley.

“Saint Augustine, ma’am,” Ben said. “I travel the state on carpentry jobs to help support my mother and sister, who live there in the family house. My father died a number of years ago.”

“You support your widowed mother?” Lupita was impressed, Josefa knew. Ben had just jumped up several levels on the Lupita scale of worthiness.

“And my sister. Her health has never been strong,” Ben added. “Best mother and sister a man could have, I tell you.”

He inched even higher on the worthiness scale. Josefa was glad her aunt liked Ben. Yet, the more he revealed, the more she sensed a touch of sadness in him, a want of some kind. When he turned to go, she saw a hunger in his eyes. Those bright, ocean-blue eyes carried a sadness she longed to wipe away.