Josie looked down, noticing Rose’s cup half empty. “Would you like more tea?”
“Please,” Rose answered, holding out her cup.
As Josie filled Rose’s tin cup, Rose continued their conversational visit.
“Would you consider a quilting bee for the baby? I know the ladies of the church would enjoy the fellowship, especially one honoring a new life coming into the world.”
Josie nearly spilled the teapot. She quickly pushed Rose’s cup to her, then forced a smile. However, Rose seemed to see through her facade as though she was transparent glass.
“Whenever you’re comfortable. Take your time with the decision.”
The thought of women coming into their home, dedicating their afternoon to make her a quilt with her belly twice the size it was supposed to be, nearly knocked the wind out of her. More lies. She’d have to lie again, making her turn back to her deceiving ways she wanted to avoid. Deceiving one family was different than deceiving the whole town, and even with Travis, she couldn’t hide for too long.
“I’ll think about it.”
Rose reached out, touching Josie’s hand. “Whatever you need, don’t feel shy to ask.”
Josie’s chest flooded with warmth. “Thank you, Rose.” Tears pricked in her corners. “You’re a wonderful friend.”
Statesville, North Carolina; Early September 1872
General smiled as he gripped the bedrail. Carefully, he used his strength to push one foot forward, then he tried the other. As he propped his weight against the wooden rail, his chest swelled with excitement.
“Take that, Colson,” he muttered bitterly.
General had spent the last month doing the man’s ridiculous exercises, and at night, when everyone was in bed, he had attempted his own. One foot after the other, trying to balance himself, and he’d done it. Next, he removed his grip from the bedrail and held his arms out to steady himself. A grin stretched across his face. He was standing. All on his own—no doctor, no mammy. He didn’t need anyone’s help.
He chuckled to himself. Invincible General—that was who he was. No more would he be the house’s prisoner. No more would he be Colson’s little experiment. He’d be free, free to do what he set out to do since he woke.
Steps echoed up the staircase, and General’s veins pumped intensely with enthusiasm.Let’s show them.The door opened, and Mammy entered, her mouth open in shock, and her breathhitched. She held her hands over her mouth, muffling her scream.
“General, yuh’re standin’!”
General crossed his arms. “Go fetch Dr. Colson. It’s time to begin our little game.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Willow Grove, Montana; Mid-September 1872
Josiecouldhardlycatchher breath in the claustrophobic cabin as the church ladies surrounded her, watching her every move. The hair on her neck stood as Caroline brought another handmade gift from their quilting circle, smiling down on her. When Josie was told this would be a quilting bee, she expected the day to be about sewing, not gifting. Caroline’s presence gave Josie a little ease, but as she looked out, the curious eyes caused her heart to race.
“That’s from me,” Mrs. Lynde, the shopkeeper’s wife, said, seated next to her daughter who seemed to not be much older than Ivy. Josie smiled, trying to show her gratitude.
As she looked down, ready to open the gift, the ladies put down their needles, their eyes never leaving her. Josie covered her bump with the present, trying to avoid prying eyes, but she could only hide so much. Sitting while wearing a dress that was definitely too tight wasn’t helping any. Thank goodness for Caroline’s extra clothes, but the woman must had been half her size during those pregnancy days.
Josie removed the brown paper and string, revealing a red and green quilt. The ladiesoohedandaahedat the sweet gift that would wrap around a sweet little babe.
“That is gorgeous, Mrs. Lynde,” Mrs. Scott said, pulling a thread through her side of the yellow and white quilt. “Did you make that by hand?”
Mrs. Lynde smiled, patting her daughter’s leg. “With a little help from my Dolly Anne.”
“It’s beautiful,” Josie said with appreciation. “This will go to great use.”
“I made it from a couple of Dolly Anne’s old clothes and a few other items. I hope you don’t mind the mis-match.”
“I don’t mind it at all.”
Josie noticed a slight Southern accent in Mrs. Lynde’s voice. Since it was never brought up in conversation, she wouldn’t ask. But the thought of her having a Southern ally nearby made her feel more confident she would be just as welcomed, even though she hadn’t had any issues regarding her heritage. The frontier was a blend of many different sides of the war—North and South, giving her hope that one day the prejudice would pass.
