“True,” Caleb agreed, “but human beings are a resilient bunch, and when they are driven to accomplishment, they do great things. I think you’ll be surprised.”
“I suppose, but so many are dealing with sorrow on top of the loss of property. Their loved ones have died. I know very well how that can discourage a soul.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re missing your grandmother, aren’t you?”
Judith hadn’t really considered it, but now that Caleb had put it into words, she had to agree that she did long for the woman’s return. “I knew her for such a short time. I wish she could have been with me longer.”
“You made the most of that time. You went to live with her even though she was a complete stranger.”
“Yes, and how glad I am now that I did, even with all of the trouble I faced there. I might never have learned as much as I did about my family.” Judith was still trying to understand her past, which included being raised by a man and woman who weren’t really her parents, but rather her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t imagine the desperation of a woman stealing one of her sister’s twin daughters to raise as her own.
“It’s good that you know about the past, Judith,” Caleb said, “but you mustn’t dwell on it. You have a future ahead of you, and we will create our own family and memories. I presume you do want a family?”
She turned to him and saw his questioning look. “Of course I do. I hope we have a dozen children.”
His expression changed to concern. “A dozen? Well, I hadn’t thought of that many, but I suppose if that’s what you desire, I will do my best to comply.”
She felt her cheeks warm. “Oh, Caleb, I honestly don’t care how many children we have, so long as we’re together.”
He nodded. “I feel the same way, and it isn’t ours to decide anyway. Only God can create a life, and if He chooses to bless us with a dozen or just one child, I will be a happy man.”
They arrived at the address Caleb had mentioned. Here the houses showed some signs of damage but overall looked to be in decent condition. Caleb helped Judith down from the wagon, and together they made their way up the stone walkway.
The door was quickly answered by a housekeeper who ushered them inside without question. “The front rooms have been converted to offices,” she explained. “Just sit here, and I’m sure Mr. Bridgestone’s secretary will be with you directly.”
She left them in a small room that had once no doubt been a family parlor. It wasn’t long before the pocket door across the room slid back and a man emerged. He took one look at Caleb and smiled.
“Caleb Coulter, as I live and breathe.”
Caleb stood, smiling. “Samuel Deter. I haven’t seen you since last year’s Bar Association charity dance.” The two men shook hands. “I didn’t realize you worked for this firm.”
“I was just hired on. Mr. Bridgestone is a good friend of my father’s, and after Mr. Pettyjohn’s death, he was looking to add to the firm.”
“Then he chose well.” Caleb turned and drew Judith to her feet. “This is my fiancée, Miss Judith Whitley. Judith, this is Sam, an old friend.”
Judith smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise. I’ve heard all about you. Goodness, you were all the firm could talk about until the earthquake. Quite an amazing story you have.”
“It is,” Caleb said, “and it’s the reason we’re here today.”
Sam looked at Caleb. “Regarding the will?”
“Regarding Victoria Whitley. We’ve realized we have no way of knowing whether she’s been informed of her father and brother’s death.”
“Grandmother’s as well,” Judith added. “Although she knew Grandmother was most likely going to pass.”
“Of course. Let me explain the situation to Mr. Bridgestone. I’m sure he will want to discuss the particulars with you. Would you care for something to drink?” Sam glanced around. “I think the secretary is sorting records, but I don’t mind getting it for you. We have coffee and tea.”
Caleb looked at Judith, who shook her head. “No, we’re fine.”
Sam disappeared back down the hall for a moment, then returned just as quickly. “Mr. Bridgestone will see you. Follow me.”
They were taken to a large office at the back of the house. Mr. Bridgestone was a man in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache. He rose from the chair behind his desk and extended his hand as Caleb and Judith entered the room.
“I’m glad to be of service to you, Miss Whitley,” he said, coming to stand directly in front of her. “Mr. Coulter.” He gave a nod.
Judith took his hand. “Thank you for seeing us. We’re concerned about my cousin Victoria.”
