The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗

of class. Ginna gathered up her things and slowly walked outside to the small courtyard of trees and grassy lawn. Finding a bench in the shade, she pulled out the sandwich that Clara had prepared for her and began to eat it.

“Oh, there you are, Ginna. I was afraid I wouldn’t find you.”

“Well, you certainly are a ten o’clock scholar, Martha. I thought maybe you weren’t even coming today.”

“I know I’m late. But I just had to come to school, even for one class. I got the job, Ginna.”

Martha sat down on the bench beside Ginna and unwrapped her own sandwich. “I start on Monday. Isn’t that the most exciting thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I think it’s wonderful. Have you told your mother yet?”

“No. I wasn’t actually hired until this morning, at the second interview. I’ll tell Mama tonight, after all the boarders have left the parlor.”

“I have some good news, too.”

“What?”

“Jonathan is back from Kentucky. He’s coming for me after class, and I’m joining his mother for tea.”

“Then you’ll probably be deciding on your wedding date this afternoon.”

“Probably. Subject, of course, to Mummy’s approval.”

“Just think. Here we are, all grown up. I’m going into the world of commerce, and you’re getting married.” Martha took out the other half of her sandwich. As she removed the piece of cheese that she didn’t care for and began to feed it to the gathering pigeons, she said, “Why didn’t you tell me that Mr. Quail works in the same law firm with Mr. Motley?”

“I just … Well …” Ginna was seldom at a loss for words, but somehow she couldn’t think of an adequate excuse.

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t think he really recognized me as your school chum. But I will be typing for him from time to time. At least that’s what Mr. Motley said.”

“I didn’t want you to worry, Martha. About the interview. But now that you actually have the job, it really doesn’t matter what Stanley thinks.”

“Oh, I get it. He probably doesn’t like the idea of women out of the kitchen.”

Ginna laughed. “You see, I didn’t have to tell you, after all.”

“Well, I’ll have to tell Miss Radnick this afternoon that I won’t be coming back to class after today.” Martha stood. “It will more than likely be a relief to her.”

“Miss Radnick likes you, Martha. We’ll both miss you. But what are you going to do about your china?”

Martha smiled. “I think I can finish some of the saucers today. But since I have such a talented partner in the class, I thought maybe she might finish the set for me.”

“Why don’t we go in and ask her?”

“But that’s what I thought I was doing. You don’t mind, do you, Ginna?”

“Of course not.”

Students in small groups began to stroll toward the classroom building. Ginna and Martha joined them, and they worked steadily in the studio for the remainder of the day.

Then, when it was quitting time, Martha stayed behind to talk with Miss Radnick, while Ginna nervously smoothed her lustrous dark hair, bit her lips for color, and ran down the steps to meet Jonathan.

CHAPTER

15

Jonathan swept down the deserted street in a dead heat with the clock. The carriage careened to the right at the curve and then righted itself on the full stretch as the road widened and became arrow straight and sure.

“Whoa, Angel,” Jonathan called out to the lead horse, the big gray with the star set into her forehead. He watched with admiration as she broke pace and caused the big black, Daemon, beside her, to do the same, slowing up and then coming to a stop amid the fury of snorting nostrils and tosses of the head to show Jonathan her displeasure at being stopped just when she was in full stride.

“We made it, Browne,” Jonathan said, glancing at the clock in the tower. He thrust the reins into Browne’s hands. “Here, take over for me. I’ll be back with Miss Forsyte in a few minutes.”

For the last quarter of a mile, the servant seated on the box with Jonathan had kept his eyes closed. The sting of the wind against his face had told him how fast the horses were flying, and he’d clung to the seat with all his might. When Jonathan and his horses got together, it was like being dragged into the Kentucky Derby holding on to the horse’s tail.

“One of these days, Mr. Jonathan, there ain’t gonna be nothin’ left of us except a wet spot on the road.”

An amused Jonathan turned his head and looked back. “You can go as slow as you want on the way back. In fact, the slower the better.”

He walked on, past the courtyard and toward the side door of the ugly redbrick building.

“Ginna!”

As she stood on the steps, her large-brimmed hat shading her face from the afternoon sun, she looked in the direction of the voice. And when she saw its owner, her heart gave a sudden little jolt. Jonathan’s dark hair was ruffled by the wind, giving him a carefree look despite his immaculate attire. It was this that had attracted her to him the first time she ever saw him, that freedom she envied—an exuberance for life, so in contrast to her own staid existence.

“Jonathan.”

Her face lit up, bringing love to her eyes, as she followed his progress toward her. He was tall and handsome in a disconcerting, masculine way, with an open, unguarded face that spoke of assurance and an innate trust in mankind. How different he was from Cassie’s husband, with his thin lips set in almost constant disapproval.

“Here, let me carry your art supplies,” Jonathan said. Their hands touched as she relinquished the satchel to him, and he was in no hurry to break contact.

“I’ve missed you this past week, Ginna.”

“I’m glad. Because I missed you, too, Jonathan.”

They stood, staring into each other’s eyes, unaware of the other students walking past. Then Ginna suddenly realized where they were,