A Texas Christmas Reunion. Carol ArensЧитать онлайн книгу.
to set down its spur was as useful as wishing there was something she could do to restore Beaumont to the hometown she loved. The place where neighbors smiled at one another when they passed on the boardwalk, where one laid down one’s head at night in blissful slumber without the racket of saloons to disturb the peace of the evening.
A flash of yellow caught her eye. A hatbox with a fluffy yellow bow sat on one of the tables.
Oh, no! A customer—Miss Quinn her name was—must have left it behind. The woman had been distracted with joy over boarding the train and going home to marry the handsome man she was engaged to.
There was nothing to do but store the hatbox away in the event that Miss Quinn returned for it one day.
Reaching for it, Juliette saw an envelope tucked between the box lid and the bow. Curiously, Juliette’s name was written on the delicate parchment.
Before she had a chance to wonder about it, she heard a baby’s strident cry coming from the small room behind the kitchen.
“Sounds like your brother is hungry, Miss Lena.”
“If you can’t keep that boy content, you shouldn’t be running a business. Family comes first for a woman.” Her father-in-law’s grumble reached the dining room from the kitchen.
Thankfully there were no customers present to hear his lament.
Truly, did the man not understand that she would rather be at home tending her husband and their child?
Circumstances had sent her life another way. She could smile at the future or weep over the past.
She chose to smile.
* * *
Juliette sat down at a table in the back of the dining room and draped a shawl over her left shoulder. Tenderly she tucked the end under Joe’s small padded bottom.
There was rarely a time when she put him to her breast that she did not think of Lillian. For all that she smiled while she cooed to Joe and tickled his fat little belly, she felt a tug of sadness that it was Juliette feeding him and not his mother.
“Your mama was beautiful, Joe—just like you are. And she loved you so very much.”
Truly, no one could have looked forward to a child’s birth with more joy than Steven’s brother and his wife had.
Juliette knew this because they had shared a wedding day and a home. Lillian had only been one month along in her pregnancy with Joe when Juliette conceived Lena.
Their large home had nearly vibrated with happiness over anticipation of the babies’ arrival. But there was worry, as well. Her husband and her brother-in-law were determined that their children would be born to the best of everything money could buy. The trouble was, at that point in their young lives, they’d been far from able to provide a pair of silver spoons.
So the men had left their pregnant wives behind and gone away to California...to make a living working for the Southern Pacific Railroad.
During the wee hours of a January morning in the mountains at Tehachapi, the rear cars of the train they’d been on had detached, rolled back down the grade, crashed and burned. Life as Juliette knew it had perished along with Steven and Thomas.
Lillian lost her will to live. Try as Juliette might to get her sister-in-law to look toward the future for her child’s sake, she could not draw Lillian out of her despondency. After Joe’s birth she grew even more morose. She wouldn’t eat or take the fresh air, choosing instead to sit in her darkened room and weep.
Until the chilly night she’d crept quietly out of the house to crouch in the rain. Juliette didn’t know how long her sister-in-law had been in the yard shivering. She only discovered Lillian was out there when Joe began to cry.
That had been the first time she took her nephew to her own breast. The poor baby was hungry and his mother refused him. As Lillian sat in front of the fire, shaking with cold, a distant look in her eyes, Juliette had known she’d set her sights on death.
For a week she had tried to get Lillian to eat, to smile at sweet baby Joe, to do anything but stare blankly into space. In the end, her sister-in-law caught a fever and was gone within three days.
“But I love you, Joe.” Juliette stroked his soft round head. “I’m yours forever.”
Juliette was more grateful for this unexpected son than she could say. He was her sweet little miracle in the ashes of what had been her life.
Smiling down at him, she was rewarded with the endearing sigh babies made when they nursed.
“What do you suppose this note has to say, sweet boy?”
Reaching for the hatbox, she could not even imagine.
The bell on the front door jangled. A young woman blew inside along with a gust of cold wind.
“Hello, Nannie,” Juliette said with a smile for her customer. “Just give me a moment. Coffee? Pastry?”
“Oh, I’ve no time to eat! I’ve found out a tasty bit of news that simply has to be shared.” Nannie’s small, closely set blue eyes glittered in apparent delight with what she was about to impart. “You know, Juliette, you’ll ruin your figure nursing both those babies.”
“I suppose that’s a risk I’ll have to take if Lena and Joe are to survive.”
Nannie Breene tipped her head to one side, frowning. Unless Juliette missed her guess, the girl would have spent no less than an hour and a half this morning arranging her blond hair in flirtatious curls about her face.
“I’m sure you know best, of course. But wouldn’t a wet nurse do as well?”
“A wet nurse in Beaumont Spur?” Juliette would not hire one even if there had been a woman wanting the job. Love and cuddles went into the feeding as much as life-sustaining food did. “Someday you’ll—”
Nannie cut her off with a crisp snap of her fingers.
“My news!” Her small eyes flashed in clear anticipation of Juliette’s coming reaction. “You won’t believe this!”
Nannie sat down in a chair across from Juliette, anchored her elbows on the table then stretched her neck forward, leading with her dainty, pointed chin.
“It’s hardly news that the bank has been robbed,” Juliette pointed out. “Can I get you some tea—a cookie?”
“How can I even think of it? Not knowing what I know—and it certainly is not something as common as the bank being robbed.”
For all that Nannie was bursting to repeat her news, she was apparently waiting for Juliette to drag it from her.
Very well. “What is your news? It must be something urgent.”
“Oh, it is!” Nannie leaned farther forward and whispered, “Trea Culverson is returning to Beaumont Spur.”
* * *
It was after midnight when Juliette wrapped a blanket about her shoulders and stepped onto the back porch of her small house. She stared up at the moon. It was full and bright. Not even halfway up the sky, it looked huge and close, almost as if she could reach out and touch it.
Her day had not ended when she bade the last customer good-night then put the Closed sign on the restaurant door. She’d wrapped the babies against the late November chill, tucked them in the pram then bundled her father-in-law up in a heavy coat.
As he normally did, Warren Lindor had insisted on being led to The Saucy Goose. As she always did, she pushed the pram with one arm and dragged the old man home by the coat sleeve.
Luckily, home was only a block away from her café.
By the time she fed the babies, tucked them into bed, gave Warren a snack and settled him into his room, and then baked the pastries for the next morning, it was late. Her neighbors had doused their lamps hours ago.