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

got the message you left at the club. But I suppose I’m not really surprised to see you here.”

Jonathan was serious. “We’ve got to talk, Morrow. The four of us. Is Andrew coming in?”

“No. He merely brought me home. Unfortunately, he has an appointment with Gladney Shelburne. It was something he couldn’t get out of.”

“Maybe it’s just as well, since it really involves the three of us—you, Ginna, and me.”

Morrow stood, smoothing David’s blond hair as he leaned against her. “Darling, run and find Nanny,” she said.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, David. But don’t go far. I’ll call you when we’ve finished talking and perhaps we can go for a walk by the lake.”

The child obeyed, picking up his toy and taking it with him.

“All right. What is it, Jonathan?”

Ginna sat in the curve of the beige sofa and listened as Jonathan began to talk. The story from his lips was gentle, loving, not at all like Cassie’s. Yet the facts were the same.

And when he had finished, Morrow said, “Poor Mother.”

“It’s a complicated, awkward situation,” Jonathan added. “But it’s in the past. Nothing can be undone. But it needn’t bring any more heartbreak than it already has.”

He looked over at Ginna. “I’ve already told Ginna that she had no business running away from me. It still doesn’t change the fact that I love her and want to marry her.”

Morrow walked over to the sofa and sat down. “And how do you feel about it, Ginna? Do you love Jonathan enough to marry him?”

“He’s my life,” she said simply.

Morrow smiled and reached out to take Ginna’s hand. “And you’re really my sister, aren’t you? You’ll have to tell me about our father. I want to know everything about him. But that can wait until later, when we’re alone.”

Ginna nodded, but it was Jonathan who spoke again. “Ginna has suffered from her mother’s abuse. And if she goes back to Washington without marrying me, Araminta will find some way of keeping us apart. That’s why I want us to be married here.”

Morrow hesitated. “Has your … our father given his blessing for this marriage?”

“Yes. We were to be married at home in three weeks. I already had my dress fitted and I was going to wear the Meadors family veil.…”

“Perhaps the solution would be to have a private ceremony here. That way, if something happens once you get home, then you would already be married. But I understand how a mother would feel wronged, especially if the daughter eloped and turned her back on the plans already made. If you didn’t go through with it again, that might cause a schism between you and your mother that could never be mended.”

“You mean, have two weddings?” Ginna inquired.

“It’s done all the time here, among our Catholic friends. A civil ceremony first, followed by a church wedding.”

Jonathan smiled. “I’ll go to see Dr. Brunson tomorrow, as soon as the church doors open.”

“He’s not in his office on Mondays, Jonathan. You’ll have to wait until Tuesday.”

“Then we’ll all go to the exposition tomorrow,” Jonathan commented. “There won’t be much time for that later on.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to make your plans,” Morrow said. She reached out and hugged Ginna. “Welcome to our family, sweet Ginna.” Then she walked out of the room, calling to her son. “David, it’s time to take our walk.”

When she was gone, Ginna whispered, “You don’t think we’ll get into any trouble doing this, Jonathan?”

“I’m determined not to lose you, Ginna. No one need know unless it’s absolutely necessary. It will be our secret.”

CHAPTER

27

Another secret was taking shape several hundred miles away in a dormitory room at Braxton School, where Nathan Forsyte lay in the dark and listened. For almost an hour, he had waited for the sound of a gentle snore that would indicate Mr. Graves in the next room had finally gone to sleep.

Most of the dorm beds were still empty, for the school session had not yet started. But the younger boys would be arriving with their parents the next day, a full week ahead of the older students.

He and Pinky had already hidden their few belongings in the woods, just over the hill, with the railroad timetable and the map. They didn’t dare leave from the Braxton depot, for they would be sure to run into some of the school officials. Instead, they planned to walk the three miles to Holborne and buy their tickets there.

Nathan had written only one letter home and that was just a few lines. He was afraid he might let the cat out of the bag—that Pinky had been sent to the same school. If his mother ever got wind of that, there’d be trouble. But he guessed it didn’t matter much, anyway. He’d be in trouble as it was, going off to the exposition. But it wasn’t as if he’d be missing any classes. He and Pinky would be back by then.

He felt under his pillow for the note he would leave on Mr. Graves’s desk downstairs. He and Pinky had worked long and hard wording it just right, a little different from the one Pinky was going to leave with Mr. Riley. But the handwriting was the same—in Spencerian script, which Nathan had copied from his old penmanship book, and each had the signature of his respective father.

The sound he was waiting for drifted past the partially closed door: breath in, breath out, with a rattle at the end. Hearing it, the fully clothed Nathan crawled out of bed, reached underneath the cot for the food satchel, and, with the letter in his hand, stole down the hallway.

The stairs creaked badly and, midway down, Nathan stopped. Then, not hearing anyone stirring, he slowly walked the rest of the way, checking each tread as if he might have been walking on eggs or balancing himself on the rail track.

The moon seeped through the transom glass with barely enough light for him