Blessed Assurance Read Online Free Page A

morning at dawn.”
    â€œAt dawn? Who was it?”
    â€œA stranger. He actually tried to make me believe some train conductor recommended my boardinghouse.”
    â€œWhy would he choose your house if someone hadn’t recommended you?”
    â€œJust my luck.” Jessie gave a half-smile. He continued to intrigue her. Why? Maybe it was merely the fact that the war had taken such a dreadful toll on the population of young men that no man under the age of forty had sat at her table for over five years. Maybe that made him keep popping into mind.
    â€œBut…please be careful.”
    â€œAfter meeting Miss Wright, I doubt he’ll be back.” Jessie firmly put the man out of her mind.
    â€œHow is Miss Wright, the poor woman?”
    â€œPoor woman with a razor-sharp tongue. She sliced that stranger up like the bacon for breakfast.”
    Her mother shook her head. “Margaret loved Miss Wright so. You had the sweetest mother-in-law I’ve ever known.”
    â€œYes, I did.” Jessie looked away. Losing Margaret in the final months of the war less than a year after Will had died still had the power to hurt her.
    How often she still yearned to lean her head on Margaret’s soft bosom and listen to her voice soothe every problem with a prayer.Jessie took a deep breath and felt her stays press against her ribs.
    Then she heard it, the idle clang of a fire bell. With misgiving, she watched the shiny red, black, and brass fire wagon coming toward them. Her stepfather, in his highly starched blue fire-captain’s uniform, hopped down from it; grim satisfaction on his square face.
    â€œHiram, I…” Her mother pressed her hand to her heart. “You surprised me.”
    â€œI knew you’d be shopping about now and I wanted to have a word with your headstrong daughter.”
    â€œI don’t need that word,” Jessie muttered.
    â€œPlease.” Her mother touched Jessie’s sleeve.
    â€œWe already know, Esther, that your daughter doesn’t have a teachable spirit.”
    â€œWhat is it you want to teach me, stepfather?” Jessie forced herself to speak politely for her mother’s sake. Her mother suffered over any confrontation, however mild.
    â€œA fellow fire captain of mine saw you leaving that shantytown at an ungodly hour this morning—again.”
    â€œA sick baby needed me.” Jessie lifted her chin.
    â€œYour actions reflect on us. No decent woman would go there at any time, but certainly not at night.”
    â€œThe baby might have died—”
    â€œThis odd behavior will stop now . Esther, I’ll be home late this evening.” He tipped his hat and climbed back on the wagon.
    His condemnation set a wildfire inside Jessie. She tried to call up some of the phrases that Margaret had taught her about loving those who persecute us in vain. In a low voice, Jessie said, “Mother, I am doing the work God has given me. No one will turn me from my purpose.”
    Painful crosscurrents of love and shame showed on her mother’s face. “Daughter, will you come to Field & Leiter’s with me?” Her mother blinked back tears.
    Jessie was touched. Calling her “daughter” sounded like a commonplace. But in their unspoken code, using this term was an endearment that had slipped by her stepfather. Even now when Jessieno longer lived under her stepfather’s roof, these brief daily shopping trips were the only way they saw each other regularly. “No, but I’ll walk you there.”
    Jessie enjoyed strolling beside her mother through the streets crowded with shoppers. Then at the corner of Washington and State stood the five-story “marble palace” built by Potter Palmer. Its gala grand opening night had taken place two years ago. If Will had survived the war, he would have drawn her arm through his and escorted her like his princess through the aisles of exotic rugs, Balmoral petticoats,