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

the unopened letter from his private desk, stuck it in his coat pocket, and headed for the livery stable where his horse, Sumi, waited.

On the way home, Rad passed a small one-seater carriage. He smiled and touched his hat as he recognized his son’s fiancee, Ginna, but she did not see him. Her eyes were on the road and she was going inordinately fast. Too fast, Rad thought, for safety. Just like Jonathan. Uneasily, he rode on, glancing back only once. But she had already disappeared in a swirl of gray dust.

Half of Ginna’s life had been spent waiting. Waiting for her mother to notice her. Waiting for Cassie to become the loving sister she so desperately desired. And when she had despaired of either one, waiting to grow up so that she would no longer have any need for their attention, their approval.

But the old life had not been shed. She was still bound to them, even at that moment. Once again, she would have to wait—to approach her father for the truth. Cassie’s baby was coming and its birth took precedence over Ginna’s grief.

In her mind, she had already given up Jonathan. But in doing so, Ginna knew she could never continue in her present role as a dependent daughter. Hadn’t Jonathan already warned her? “Your place is no longer in this house,” he’d said.

Yes, she accepted that. But just where was her place in this world? Not as a wife and mother. Never that, because of the disgrace. But she was good with children. She could teach. Or, like Martha, she could work in an office. But not in Washington. It would have to be in another city.

The brownstone at the end of the street had a forbidding appearance to it in the late-afternoon haze as Ginna stopped short. She hurriedly tied the carriage reins to the hitching post and ran to the front door.

In the hallway, she breathlessly called out, “Mummy, where are you?”

In the shadows at the foot of the stairs, Nathan sat, with a cat’s cradle of string between his fingers. “She’s not here yet. Just me and Clara.”

“Do you know where she could be?”

“She’s gone over to speak to Pinky’s mother.”

“Oh, no. Are you two in trouble again?”

“Maybe. Pinky finally came to get some of his tadpoles out of the pool. Mama said he wasn’t supposed to come here, ever again.”

“Has she been gone long?”

“Depends on what you mean by long. Long as it takes ice to melt? Or long as it takes for her to get mad at me?”

Ginna looked at her little brother’s face. She sat down on the step beside him. “Oh, Nathan, you’ve been by yourself for three whole days, haven’t you? And not allowed to go anywhere.”

“The bad part is, I didn’t even get to see Pinky. Not even for a minute. He came into the garden about the same time she got home from Cassie’s.”

At the mention of her sister, Ginna remembered why she’d been in such a hurry. “Well, Cassie’s baby is coming and Mummy asked me to let her know the minute—” She looked at her brother and hesitated.

“You don’t have to stop on account of me, Ginna. I know how babies get here. Papa let me watch when the puppies were born.”

“Of course. I forgot.”

“Is Cassie yowling like Perserpina did?”

Ginna smiled in spite of herself. “Not at the moment.”

She stood and walked to the door, to peer down the street. “Did Barge take Mummy in the carriage?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go to meet her, Nathan.”

“She might get mad at me for leaving the house.”

“I’ll take the blame, Nathan, if it comes to that. You need some fresh air. But I have a feeling that when I tell her the news, she’ll forget about both of us.”

Nathan removed the cat’s cradle from his fingers and stood, pushing the string into his pocket. Ginna knew that he would return it later on to one of the paper bags stashed along the ledge of his bedroom window. In each bag, he kept small treasures, important only to Nathan—bits of string in one; acorns to feed the squirrels in the park in another; agate marbles that he’d traded with schoolmates; and smooth, round pebbles from the creek bed. She suspected that he’d even saved a little dirt from their garden in England, too.

Ginna glanced at the horse harnessed to the one-seater in front of the house. Then she turned to Nathan. “Do you want to ride or walk?”

“Let’s walk. It’s not that far.”

The two started down the street, with Nathan taking a hop, skip, and jump, lagging one moment and then rushing ahead, like a small, eager puppy finally breaking free of its leash.

But when he saw the family carriage returning up the street, he immediately stopped and waited for Ginna to catch up with him. “I see Mama,” he said, sliding his hand into hers.

“Yes.” Ginna waved to get Barge’s attention. She and Nathan crossed the street, and when Barge brought the carriage to a stop, Ginna and Nathan climbed in.

Ginna did not give her mother time to scold Nathan. “Cassie’s baby is coming,” she announced. “Stanley has already gone for Papa. Harriet is with her right now.”

“Hurry home, Barge,” Araminta said. “I’ll need to get my packed valise.”

Then Araminta began to give Ginna instructions. “You’re to stay at home with Nathan, do you understand? And you’re to let no one into the house while I’m away. I don’t think Pinky will be a problem from now on. But you never can tell.”

“Will Papa be coming home tonight, do you think?”

“It depends, I’m sure, on what time the baby arrives. But I’ll stay overnight, of course. And Nathan?”

“Yes, Mama?”

“We’ve had word from the school. They’re going to take you early. You’ll be leaving with Mr. Graves, one of the teachers, tomorrow afternoon. He’ll stop at the house for you on his way to the train station promptly at ten o’clock.”

She ignored the betrayed look on Nathan’s face as