Message for Minerva
A Cerridwen Press Publication
www.cerridwenpress.com
Message for Minerva
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Message for Minerva Copyright © 2009 Jean Hart Stewart
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication April 2009
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
Message for Minerva
Jean Hart Stewart
Chapter One
Minnie stilled her hands and sat in thought. What possessed her to be dispirited? It was not like her to be so glum. Her life had been delightful since her son Aiden rescued her from her violent husband. She’d been so thankful to escape from the monster her once loving husband had become, she usually rejoiced with nothing but thankfulness in her heart.
She simply never sat and moped. And she thought this might be just what she was doing. Not acceptable. Not at all.
She rose and started to walk around the room, until she stopped and smiled.
I’ve never been a pacer. I’d definitely better get back to work.
She’d barely picked up one or her quilting pieces when there was a knock on the door, followed soon by Triona’s sweet voice. And two lighter trilling voices. Her gloomy mood vanished as if it had never been. Aiden’s family was here. Certainly no one had ever been blessed by a lovelier daughter-in-law than Catriona and her granddaughters promised to follow their mother’s example. Sianna and Catie, two and three years old, were adorable. And now a third baby was on the way, possibly a little Aiden.
“You beautiful creatures,” she called out gaily as she rushed to welcome them. “I’m so glad to see you. You bring sunshine to a dreary day.”
Blast, she hadn’t meant to say just those words. Actually the sun was shining. As a Druid, Triona intuitively sensed mood, even when she didn’t try. The word “dreary” would be a red flag to her.
Sure enough, Triona’s brows arched a little higher, although she asked no questions in front of her daughters.
“Well, then I’m doubly glad we came. Besides, we longed to see you, Mama.”
“You’re all just in time for tea,” Minnie said brightly as she took a hand of each little girl and led them to the kitchen. “I’ll go fetch the dolls you keep here and see if they feel like a tea party here with you.”
Sianna and Catie squealed with joy and she soon had the little girls settled, then laid a tray for herself and Triona and took it back to the parlor.
“Now,” she said brightly. “You look even lovelier than usual, Triona. I take it this pregnancy is still going well.”
“Of course, even more easily than with the girls. Aiden says I was meant to have babies.”
As she thought of what else Aiden had said and especially what he’d done at the same time, she couldn’t keep her blush under control. Her mother-in-law only laughed.
Triona grinned. “He’s a wicked man indeed, your son. But I came particularly to ask you again to please move in with us. As you can see we need you now and will need you even more soon. Please come, Mama. We’d so love to have you. You know we mean it.”
Minnie looked at her hands for a long while. The offer was so very tempting. She’d shared this house with her friend Bertha ever since Ralph died. The house where she’d lived her married life, so painfully for too many of the last years of his life. Now Bertha had unexpectedly married at the age of fifty-five to a childhood sweetheart who’d recently tracked her down. In fact she’d never seen anyone as surprised as Bertha. Or as overwhelmed with happiness.
In a way she’d love to agree with Triona and move in with her beloved family. But something in her rebelled. She’d had so little freedom in her married life and she now cherished her independence. No matter how much she loved Aiden and his family, they were still a unit she couldn’t quite join. Almost but never quite.
And then there was her quilting equipment. The big loom and the small, small pieces of material she pieced into her own designs. Her vocation took up a lot of space. There was also the big drafting table where she experimented with sketching her ideas. Bertha had been equally skilled with her needle but Minnie was the one with the artistic visions. Sometimes the patterns appeared so beautifully in her head she wondered if her Druid daughter-in-law was helping her.
She grinned and rejected the idea. Certainly Triona easily could do so, but she’d seen patterns and shapes ever since she could remember. This was part of her inner being. No, she couldn’t compromise this important life.
Triona sighed, knowing the answer even before Minnie spoke.
“We’re sincere in wanting you but I can feel you’re not ready. We’ll keep a room ready for you though.”
Triona turned the talk to the latest escapades as well as recent achievements of Catie and Sianna. Since the two women agreed thoroughly on how exceptional the girls were and loved to talk about them the rest of the visit passed quite happily.
* * * * *
After her three lovely girls left, the house seemed more quiet than ever. With determination, Minnie turned on the lights in her quilting room. The latest quilt was stretched on the loom, not too tightly but enough to make it easy to work on.
She easily lost herself in her beloved creation and didn’t think of another thing until she heard the doorbell ring.
The old feeling of panic seized her and she determinedly beat it down. Ralph was gone. Forever. She had nothing more to fear. Besides, Triona had long ago placed a light protective shell around her, insuring that if anyone laid an inimical hand on her she and Aiden would know instantly. She resolutely squinted at the two small scraps she was stitching together and decided they’d do. She put them aside, straightened her back, flexed her fingers and went to answer the door.
* * * * *
Minnie stared at the most appealing man she’d ever seen. Not too young, thank the angels. His dark hair had a few silver strands and white wings flared at his temples, only emphasizing his strong and definitely masculine features. Not too young but definitely too handsome.
At least for the likes of her.
She stood silently, waiting for him to speak. Doubtless he wanted directions or something innocuous. She sensed no menace in him at all, even as a tentative smile curved his chiseled lips.
“I’ve come to see Mrs. Thomas. Might I come in?”
By all the saints, this paragon had come to see her? His deep voice seemed a bit too much, on top of his appealing exterior. Didn’t he have any shortcomings at all?
Stunned, she opened the door and invited him in. Afterwards she thought how much that simple act was for her. But she felt instinctively
this god-like man would never hurt her.
Gregory Maitland felt as if someone he couldn’t see had hit him on the head. He’d come to be polite, for heaven’s sakes. This slender, blonde-haired beauty couldn’t be Bertha’s friend, could she?
He walked into the hall and waited for her to say she’d call Mrs. Thomas. She made no move to do so but instead motioned him to a chair and took one across the room from him. She smiled as she did so and unsettled him even more.
“You can’t be Aiden’s mother,” he blurted. “You’re far too young.”
She blushed like a young girl. “I’m forty-eight,” she confided.
She looked almost frail and Greg felt protective instincts he’d not even known he possessed surge to the fore. Unfortunately, that wasn’t all surging. He crossed his legs, as confounded as he could remember. He was no randy youngster, for pity’s sakes. Even more pitiable, he’d only just met her.
What the blazes was wrong with him?
He stammered out his explanation for his visit.
“My best friend married your best friend. Bertha wanted me to call and I’m so glad I did. I would have come anyway, as Bertha claims you’re responsible for the gorgeous designs of the quilts you made together. Dare I hope you’re continuing on your own?”
Gregory watched her slight apprehension lessen. If the fast road to her heart was admiring her work that was certainly easy to do. The woman was brilliant.
“I’m experimenting with a new design. Even Bertha hasn’t seen it but then she’s been busy being a new bride to William. Don’t you find the two of them just delightful?”
Gregory smiled. What an exceptional woman, to take such pleasure in another’s joy. Especially when that happiness had left her alone after a long and special friendship.
“I’d be honored to see it,” he said simply.
Flashing the smile that rocked him to his toes, Minnie led the way to another room, this one quite large. Every corner seemed bathed with light. He’d heard Aiden had remodeled the house to facilitate his mother’s quilting but this room was simply stunning.
Minnie smiled at his reaction. “My daughter-in-law’s a Druid you know. She’d laid a special spell on this room. Peace and furtherance of creativity, she told me.”
Gregory slowly turned from side to side. Stacks of material were piled against one wall. An artist’s sketching table beckoned to him, with several drawings pinned on it. The loom occupied most of the space and he walked to it as if in a trance. A beautiful quilt was almost completed, glowing colors almost assaulting his eyes as he strove to find the words to praise her creation.
“Mrs. Thomas, I’m speechless. The room is special but this new quilt is extraordinary. Your talent is unsurpassed.”
The deep sincerity in his voice made Minnie blush to an extent she’d not dreamed possible. Her marriage had been arid in so many ways. Never a word or glance of praise, merely a blow if caught sewing anything other than a garment for her husband. Thank god Aiden, Triona and his own folly had led to Ralph’s death. A death freeing her body, her soul and her mind.
She’d blossomed since then, into the creature she’d kept buried for years. She truly loved her quilting, especially designing her creations.
Gregory moved just one step closer but Minnie felt as if he’d wrapped her in his arms.
“I want that quilt when it’s finished, Mrs. Thomas.”
She gasped. “But you haven’t even asked what it will cost. Probably a great deal, as I spent more time than usual on this one. I don’t want to obligate you. I have a long list of prospective customers and I don’t want you to feel committed to something not even finished.”
He stepped closer and Minnie thought she’d dissolve into smoke. She might just drift away if he moved nearer.
“Just let me know the price. I want to own it. Will you promise it to me?”
She stammered and finally managed a coherent sentence.
“Without even knowing how much I’ll have to ask? You’re either rich or insane, I don’t know which. Maybe both.”
His smile was serene and tender.
“Just tell me the final price. Whatever you charge, it won’t be enough. I do have one request. May I come back from time to time to check on what I now regard as my own special quilt?”
Her bones felt liquefied and Minnie looked up at his handsome, eager face.
And nodded yes.
Chapter Two
Gregory’s from time to time turned out to be much oftener than Minnie had dared hope. He was at the door two days later, a box of chocolates under his arm and a smile on his beguiling lips. Well in time for tea.
“These are just to keep your strength up,” he joked as he handed Minnie the chocolates. “Don’t want you bogging down now you’re almost on the last section of the quilt.”
“Mercy.” Minnie goggled at the size of the box. “So much sugar will keep me going for months. It will probably send me skittering around the room.”
The blessed man immediately looked concerned. “Have I given you a problem, Mrs. Thomas? I didn’t mean to.”
She seemed to be doing a lot of blushing these days, Minnie thought as she accepted the chocolates with a grateful smile.
“No problem at all, sir. I was joking. I truly adore chocolates.”
Gregory relaxed and followed her to the quilting room.
He stood in silent admiration for a spell, simply standing with folded arms and gazing at the quilt.
“You deserve so much,” he finally said. “An artist’s presentation at a prestigious London gallery, a photographic book showing your complete works. This should also describe your sources of inspiration and oh, so many other things.”
Minnie stared at him. “You’re insane, you know but it’s an awfully nice form of insanity. There’s nothing special about my work at all. Do you know my late husband used to toss my materials in the trash if he found I spent much time at my quilting?”
She almost put her hands to her mouth. Even Aiden didn’t know this. What on earth had made her confide in an almost-stranger?
Gregory moved closer and she thought for a moment he was going to put his arms around her. Then he stepped back.
“Your husband was a bully and an idiot.”
He wheeled and left the quilting room. He didn’t go far and he didn’t apologize. Somehow she liked him better for being so honest and again invited him for tea.
Tea soon became an almost daily ritual. He brought something every visit. Fancy cakes, an usual brand of tea he’d heard about, a package of books he hoped she’d like. Minnie found his attentiveness hard to believe. Such an attractive man must meet beautiful women every day. At least she managed not to question the frequency of his calls. She crossed her fingers and simply basked in his obvious interest.
Loving every minute he was with her and sorry the instant he left.
She did manage to remark on the amount of free time he seemed to have. She’d never be so rude as to ask what he did for a living, or if he was even obliged to work. When he responded he owned a small book store but didn’t have to be present all the time, her eyes rounded.
“Maitlands. Of course. I hate to accuse you of prevaricating sir but Maitlands is hardly small. It’s the biggest bookstore I’ve ever seen.”
His special smile beamed at her again.
“I’ve worked hard and was lucky. I have an excellent staff and now I can take time off whenever I truly want to.”
She could only hope her blush wasn’t too apparent.
One afternoon he’d stopped by and seemed even more impressed than usual with the quilt. Minnie almost gave in and confessed how she’d deliberately slowed down her progress. She simply couldn’t bear the thought of putting the last stitch in the quilt. He’d buy it, she had no doubt and then he’d put it under his arm and take it and himself away.
Would he wrap it around himself at night when he slept? Did he sleep nude, or did he wear a nightshirt? Was his body as powerful when str
ipped as it seemed?
Once again her thoughts made her blush and she hurriedly said she’d start tea. She was nearly fifty for heaven’s sakes. With two years of a happy marriage and many more of misery with a brute. No man would ever want her and her sorry background.
To her surprise, he put out his arms and barred the doorway to the hall.
“No, no, I intend to be chef this afternoon. I have a little surprise for you and I want you rested and relaxed. May I please take over your kitchen, ma’am?”
She nodded, hearing Triona’s delighted chuckle in her mind. Triona seemed to be communicating with her a lot lately. A nice feeling, even though having a daughter-in-law who often knew what you were thinking could be unhandy. Quite evidently Triona was keeping track of her mother-in-law’s relationship with the handsome Gregory. Minnie couldn’t really mind. Triona might be a Druid but she used her powers solely to help others. If Triona approved of Gregory this was just another plus for the ever more intriguing gentleman who filled far too many of her thoughts.
“Then I’ll be a true lady of leisure, Gregory. I’ll sit and look at a picture book as if I were a wealthy lady of leisure with nothing else to do.”
He chuckled, seated her with ceremony in the parlor and headed toward the kitchen. She suddenly wondered why he never called her by name. He’d urged her to use his given name weeks ago but she couldn’t remember him calling her Minnie.
In fact he didn’t call her by name at all.
As she sat pondering this insight, the doorbell rang.
She answered the summons almost automatically. Gregory’s strength had somehow transferred a feeling of peace to her life. She no longer was afraid as she’d been after Bertha first left. Surely the world was better than she’d thought. With Gregory in it, her horizons seemed broader, brighter and infinitely more intriguing.
With a slight smile on her face, she opened the door.