Page 6 of The Gift of Seeds
A cold flush went through Hester’s body, making her light-headed.No, no. This couldn’t possibly be true. Not Jimmy!
She dropped the letter onto the table and covered her face with her hands. She forced herself to breathe through the tightness in her chest. Then, her heart in her throat, with shaking hands, she picked up the letter, reread the first paragraph, and then continued.
I wasn’t well acquainted with your brother. As I’m sure you know, Mr. Smith was a reserved man, not prone to joining social activities, although he faithfully attended church services when he wasn’t working at the logging camp.
From the one time my wife badgered him to attend a small dinner party we held at our home, as well as the four quiet chess games we had at his house, I was able to have a few conversations with him. I can tell you that Mr. Smith played an intelligent game of chess—we were two and two. He did tell me of his dear sister. I know from his tone and manner of speaking that he held you in high regard. He praised your skills in cooking and housekeeping, and he seemed especially proud of your talent with horticulture. He looked forward to what you’d accomplish with his garden and hoped you’d enjoy viewing the pampered roses in my father-in-law’s conservatory.
We held a funeral for Mr. Smith, with my father officiating and myself, Dr. Fergus Cameron, and Dale Marsden, Mr. Smith’s neighbor, attending. Your brother is buried in the graveyard behind the church, in a sunny corner near a tree. As of now, no tombstone has been placed. I have waited to know your wishes in the matter.
As I understand from your brother, you are his only living family member. I’ve taken the liberty of collecting Mr. Smith’s final wages, less the doctor’s fee and funeral expenses, and am sending them to you. In addition, my father-in-law, Andre Bellaire, who’s a great benefactor of our community, has purchased a train ticket for you.
I know you had plans to join your brother in Sweetwater Springs in the spring, and he told me he was eager for you to move here. I urge you not to wait and instead to come before the winter settles in. This being Montana, that could be any time soon.
I know this sad news must be a profound shock, and that the knowledge that Mr. Smith is with our Lord in heaven might not provide enough comfort when you want him to still be here on Earth. Your life will now be different from what you planned. I pray that God will guide you on your new path.
Please know that you will be welcome in Sweetwater Springs, for your brother’s sake, as well as your own. Let me know your plans and date of arrival.
Reverend Joshua Norton
Out of the deep recesses of her breaking heart came a wail of grief, quickly tempered lest Mrs. Ransome or Kitty heard. Hester dropped the letter into her lap, wrapped her arms around her middle, and rocked back and forth to soothe herself. In her shock, she didn’t know what to do or what to think. In spite of the stark words she’d just read, she couldn’t believe James was dead.
This must be a terrible mistake or maybe a horrible prank.
For a blessed moment of relief, Hester seized on that idea, clinging to the belief that her brother still lived. But upon reflection, the truth shone through. She might have doubted a letter from any other person but not Reverend Joshua Norton. Jimmy had written of his admiration for the minister and hisfamily—of their goodness and their care for the members of their community.
No, Reverend Joshua wouldn’t be so cruel.
Kitty flounced into the kitchen, then stopped, her close-set eyes widening when she saw Hester sitting so still in a chair instead of bustling about. “Yer as pale as a ghost.” Her gaze focused on the letter. “Bad news, aye?”
Hester would have given anything to be able to answer to the contrary. She had to swallow several times before the bitter lump in her throat allowed her to speak. “I’m not well.”
Her voice wavered. “I’m afraid you’ll have to handle supper preparations without me.” She folded the letter around the train ticket and tried to tuck the pages back into the envelope. But her hands trembled so much, she couldn’t slide the papers inside.
With an exasperated sound, Kittie took both from Hester, replaced the letter in the envelope, and then handed it back.
“Thank you,” Hester murmured, trying to stand. But her knees wobbled so that she lurched to the side.
Kitty placed a hand on Hester’s shoulder and pressed her back onto the chair. “Sit a moment, lest ye fall over.”
The kindness in the maid’s tone made Hester sink back against the seat and throw off her usual reticence. “My brother was killed in a logging accident.”
Kitty drew in a sharp breath. “The one ye were going to Montana to live with?”
Hester met the maid’s eyes, astonished. She’d barely said anything about Jimmy, and nothing about moving to Sweetwater Springs.
“Not a big leap to guess yer plans.” Kitty patted Hester’s shoulder. “Let me make ye a cuppa tea. Then go up to yer room and have yerself a good cry. Most of the preparations for supper are done, anyway.”
Although grateful for the woman’s unexpected solicitude, she couldn’t help being a bit stunned by this side of the usually flighty maid.
Kitty caught Hester’s disbelieving gaze and flashed a gap-toothed grin. “What? Ye think ye didn’t train me right?”
“I didn’t think much stuck.” The wry words slipped out before Hester thought to hold them back.
Kitty brayed a laugh, and then slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in obvious consternation.
The girl’s reaction brought a small smile to Hester’s face—something she’d have thought impossible a few minutes ago. “It’s all right, Kitty. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Ye’ve been nothing but kind to me, Miss Smith.”
