Making her way upstairs, Eleanor fought back tears. She had never been one given to crying, but of late it seemed to be all she wanted to do. It wasn’t helpful at all. Things were changing, and she had to accept that fact. Father had announced just before lunch that he would be signing papers for the Hennessy house later this afternoon. He had arranged to buy the place nearly fully furnished. There would be little for them to do but move in.
Father’s room was next door to hers. She made her way inside—noticing shirts, shoes, and luggage strewn around the room. He’d already started to pack. Why was he leaving without her? Why were people arranging her life without seeking her opinion first? Most of all, why didn’t Carter Brunswick think she was wife material just because she didn’t serve God the way he did?
Bother!Stop thinking about the man.
Well, she’d wanted to find out who she really was. It seemed she was doing so. The flat, two-dimensional, grief-laden Eleanor Briggs had been without color and life. Now...
She was feeling again. What’s more, her anger with God was diminishing. Oh, how happy that would make Mama in heaven! She had no idea what the future held, but she wanted to be valuable. Loved. To have true friendships.
The draperies in Father’s room had been pulled back, and Eleanor went to gaze out the window. It shouldn’t bother her that Carter wasn’t interested in her as a wife. She wasn’t looking for a husband. And even if she were, Carter wouldn’t be the one she’d seek.
Yes, he was kind and handsome. Very handsome. She loved it when he smiled, especially when he was teasing her. His entire face lit up and his eyes seemed to twinkle. It was like he was keeping a joke to himself. She smiled—
Stop it!
She stamped her foot. “Why am I feeling this way? It’s as if Carter is more important to me than he is. I don’t want to court him. He would be far too bossy, and he’d always be judging me. I could never be good enough for him ... or God.”
She heaved a sigh and sat down on the window seat. Life right now was just ...
Hopeless.
Over and over the past few months, her mother’s words had washed over her, reminding her of the time when she’d had faith. When she’d given her heart to Jesus.
She looked up to the sky. As much as she’d hated what Carter said at the dinner, some of it wouldn’t leave her alone. Had she done as Carter said? Put up a wall of resentment and anger to protect herself from God?
Yes ... yes, she had. And as much as she resented admitting it, Carter was right about something else, too.
Her wall hadn’t helped. In fact, now that she was being honest with herself, she had to admit ...
Ithaddone her more harm than good.
That night a thunderstorm rumbled through. A clap of thunder woke Eleanor, not that she’d been sleeping very well. Her dreams had been riddled with confusion and torment. She’d been searching for her way through a wheat field. There were no landmarks with which she could make her bearings. She just wandered and at times ran through the wheat, desperately searching.
But for what?
Lightning flashed, and she heard the rain hit her windowpanes. Getting up, she padded across the lush bedroom rug to the window. If only there were a window seat here as there was in her father’s room. She pushed back the drapes and gazed out into the darkness. Another streak of lightningsplit the night skies, and for a moment, she saw her face reflected in the glass.
She looked scared and weary. Not just weary because her sleep was interrupted, but weary of an internal fight that she couldn’t seem to win. ...
Win? Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even find a moment’s respite from it.
She let the drapes fall back into place, crawled back into bed, and pulled the covers high. The room had grown chilly, and the heavy quilt was a welcome relief. Another boom of thunder sent her under the covers like a child. She shivered, then felt the quilt begin to warm her.
Maybe ... should she pray? But what could she say? She hadn’t been able to pray since Mama died. How could she pray now? Especially after she’d flung all her anger and hatred at God, blaming Him for taking Mama.
She punched down the pillow and rolled onto her side, curling into a tight ball.
She was alone. Abandoned. Just like that awful night when the doctor pronounced her mother had passed on.
Mother was gone. Father didn’t want her with him.
She turned her face into her pillow and let the tears come.
MONDAY, JUNE27, 1904
Two days later, Eleanor bid her father good-bye, and then in the afternoon, accompanied Mrs. Ashbury to her ladies’ meeting. The women were gathered at the home of Mrs. Norris, a woman Eleanor had met at the party. Mrs. Norris,a thick-waisted matron with broad shoulders and a short stature, was clearly used to running things, especially in her own home. She had three different maids all hopping to do her bidding. A manned buffet was set up so that the women could merely point to what they wanted and have servers place the food on the women’s plates. Once this was done, the ladies took their seats in the lavish parlor and waited to attend to various orders of business.
When it came time for Eleanor to take the floor, the women were well-fed and ready to listen.
