Page 55 of Beyond Montana's Sky
“Why don’t they like you?”
She adjusted a fold in her robe and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if they don’t like me so much as I wasn’t the wife they’d wanted for your father. They had another woman all picked out—a sweet insipid thing, with impeccable lineage and a good fortune, too.”
Ben gave her a skeptical look. “She would have bored Papa in months, if not weeks. Probably even days.” He grinned. “Maybe minutes.”
Edith laughed. “That’s almost exactly what your father said.” In spite of looking like a Livingston, sometimes Ben was very much his father’s son. “What they really didn’t like was my mother’s low pedigree.”
His brow furrowed. “I thought Grandma was a teacher? Wasn’t your grandfather, too?”
Edith chuckled and leaned to kiss his forehead. “Your Western corruption is showing, my son,” she teased. “In Sweetwater Springs education isvalued. Not that education isn’t important here. But an education is taken for granted, expected—at least among our social class—and the teachers who provide that education aren’t highly regarded.” She shrugged. “For that matter, the Graysons didn’t approve of your grandfather, either. Seems no one in Boston approved of Black Jack.”
Ben lay back against the pillows, his eyes becoming heavy. “Why do you always call him Black Jack?”
“When I was little, he wasPapa. I guess your uncle and I got in the habit of referring to him as Black Jack when we came to live in Boston.” She smiled, remembering. “My father had the dark Livingston looks, although he was broader—” she touched the tops of her shoulders “—than your uncle, with a big booming voice and a laugh that could shake the room. When Papa was excited about something, he’d pick up my mother and twirl her around. She’d laugh and scold him in practically the same breath. Me, he’d toss in the air or carry on his shoulders. I was up so high I felt I could touch the sky.”
“I wish I had known him,” Ben murmured sleepily, sliding farther down and settling back against the pillows.
“You would have been the apple of his eye.” Her smile fell away.I’d forgotten so many of these memories.She let out a slow breath. “Because you might hear gossip…the Boston relatives consider Papa the black sheep of the family.”
“Somehow, Black Ben doesn’t have the same ring.”
“Don’t even think it.” With another chuckle and kiss, Edith rose, turning the knob of the oil lamp until the flame snuffed out. She moved to close the window. Before she left the bedroom, she pressed the button to shut off the electricity and closed the door behind her.Black Ben, indeed. I can just imagine how well that moniker would go over with our families.
* * *
Edith’s room was the one she’d shared with Nathaniel when they were newlyweds, before they’d moved to their own home, and held so many memories. In the past, she’d shunned those reminders as too painful. Now, they held a bittersweet quality, which made her able to smile and feel a pang of sadness at the same time.
Before their marriage, the room had been completely redone as the Grayson’s wedding present. Everything looked the same as before—the matching faux-bamboo bedroom set manufactured with bird’s eye maple wood—composed of several wardrobes, chests of drawers, a dressing table and end tables. Two tufted chairs sat in front of the fireplace. In one corner was a Chinese-painted screen.
When she and Nathaniel moved to their row house, they’d left the furniture behind and instead used the pieces from her parents’ home, which had been stored away.
Next to the secretary hung their wedding photograph—the same one she’d taken to Sweetwater Springs.We looked so young.
“You’d be so proud of our son, my love.” Edith spoke aloud, something she rarely did. “One of the things I’ve missed most is glancing at you and knowing you shared the same feelings of pride. I’m sorry, Nathaniel….” Her voice faltered. “In Sweetwater Springs, Ben and I weren’t people to be proud of. Did you cringe in shame watching us? No, of course not. You’d have been worried. Done whatever you could to guide us, even if we ignored any of your prompts. I’d like to think we became people you can take pride in—at least Ben did.”
With a sigh, she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, and then settled in one of the chairs and stared into the flames. “If you can guide us from heaven, please do so as we learn to live in Boston again.” She fell silent, wondering if she should make the request on her mind. Certainly, she couldn’t ask the question aloud.
Could you steer a second husband my way?She refused to think of Cai Driscoll.Nathaniel, you’d know the kind of man who’d suit me. Could you have a talk with God and settle on the right second husband?
Edith glanced back at the photograph.I couldn’t possibly love him like I did you. But I know you’ll choose well—a man who will make me happy and be a good influence on Ben. He’s too old to need a second father. But without Caleb around, I want him to have solid male footsteps to follow into manhood.
Her throat tightened. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then blew a kiss toward the photograph.
Remembering her promise to write to Caleb and Maggie as soon as possible, Edith opened the desk part of the secretary. She lowered the lid, knowing she’d find several kinds of stationery inside. She selected paper with flowered borders and pulled the page closer, along with a pen and a crystal inkwell. She flipped open the silver top of the inkwell and noted that the ink was fresh.How thoughtful of Mildred.
Picking up a pen, Edith paused, thinking. She’d have to write in a rather light-hearted way, even though she wasn’t feeling particularly light-hearted at the moment, for she didn’t want her family to worry. In fact, she hadn’t felt light-hearted since leaving Sweetwater Springs.Surely, I’ll feel better when I start attending social events.
She dipped the tip of the pen into the ink and began to write.
Dear Caleb and Maggie,
Just a quick note to tell you Ben and I arrived safely—at least physically. Mentally, I’ll need a few months to recover from the constant complaints and discomfort of putting up with the relatives. If we weren’t related, I’d never speak to them again. Except for Uncle Atticus, of course. But in the constant barrage of negativity, even his good nature faltered, and he became rather peevish. So I wasn’t sorry to bid him adieu with the others.
I won’t tell them how Aunt Agatha and Cornelia spent an entire day criticizing the wedding, she thought.
As expected, the Graysons are over the moon to have their only grandson back under their wings and were quite welcoming, although rather upset at my not wearing mourning attire. While I can understand their sentiments and don’t want to hurt their feelings, I cannot conform to their wishes. I can, however, wear half-mourning when at home. (Don’t tell Dr. Angus I’m wearing purple!)
On an interesting note, their darling grandson is seeing them through different eyes and feeling quite defensive of Sweetwater Springs and the inhabitants thereof, as well as protective of his mother. They will need to modify their attitude, or I think they could cause some serious estrangement between them. Once Ben’s settled in school, I really will need to look around for our own house.
