Thurston House Read online

  “Mary Ellen …” He whispered her name softly. The doctor was asleep in the corner. “Mary Ellen …” She turned to him with a look of confusion.

  “Are you really here? I thought it was a dream.…” And then she looked at him with the question in her eyes that he feared most. “Jeremiah … the baby?…” But instinctively she knew, and she turned her face from him as tears poured down her cheeks and he held her hand and stroked her hair.

  “We saved you, Mary Ellen.…” There were tears in his eyes now, he had been so afraid that she would die. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry about the baby too, but there was a lump in his throat the size of a fist and he couldn’t do it.

  “What was it?” She turned her eyes to his again and saw that he was crying.

  “A boy.” She nodded and closed her eyes, and then she slept and when she awoke again, the doctor declared himself pleased and said he would leave her for a while and return that afternoon to see her. In the hallway, he told Jeremiah that if she didn’t lose any more blood, she would make it, and personally he thought she’d survive it.

  “She’s a tough gal. But I told her years ago not to try it again. It was a foolish thing to do,” he shrugged, “accident, I guess.” And then he looked at Jeremiah. “I’ll send my wife over to stay with her if you have to be getting home.” He didn’t want to pry, but he knew from the grapevine that he had a young wife in St. Helena.

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that. I was up all the night before with floods in our mines.” The old doctor nodded, he had respect for this man. He had been a great help through the long night with Mary Ellen.

  He held out a hand to Jeremiah. “I’m sorry about the baby.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Thank God you saved her.” The doctor smiled, touched by his devotion. He wasn’t the first man in the valley to have both a mistress and a wife, and children by both, and he seemed like a decent man.

  “I’ll send my wife around in a little while.” And when he did, Jeremiah took his leave of Mary Ellen.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. You just rest and do what the doctor tells you.” And then he had another thought, “And I’ll send Hannah to you in a little while. She can stay with you for as long as you need her.”

  Mary Ellen smiled weakly and held the big warm hand. “Thank you for being here, Jeremiah.… I’d have died without you.” She had almost died with him, but he didn’t say that to her.

  “Be a good girl now.” She closed her eyes on the words and was asleep again before he left the room, and as he rode Big Joe back to St. Helena, he felt every fiber in his body slump with exhaustion. He looked as though he had been beaten and dragged through ditches when he dismounted in front of his house, and Hannah came out to see him. She wanted to hear before Camille came outside and she looked expectantly at Jeremiah, and for the same reason he was quick to answer and spoke in a low, husky voice. “Mary Ellen’s all right, but the baby was stillborn.” And then, with a deep sigh, “We almost lost her. I told her you’d come to her today and stay with her for as long as she needed.” He suddenly wondered if he had been too free with his offer, but the old woman nodded.

  “I’m glad you did. I’ll get my things right now.” And then, with a searching glance, “How is she?”

  He shook his head, and the agony of the night seemed to still be with him. “It was awful, Hannah, the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why women would ever want to have babies.” He was deeply impressed by all that he’d seen, and he wasn’t sure that he could have gone through it.

  “Some don’t.” She glanced knowingly over her shoulder, and then encouragingly back at Jeremiah. “It’s not always like that, son. She knew she was going to have a hard time. The last one was almost like that. The doctor warned her.” There was faint reproach in her voice, but more sympathy, especially for Jeremiah. “Were you with her?” He nodded, and she looked at him with renewed respect. “You’re a good man, Jeremiah Thurston.” And with that Camille walked out onto the front porch with a look of exasperation.

  “Where were you all night, Jeremiah?” She didn’t care that Hannah was there, listening.

  “With one of my men who got wounded at the mines.” It explained the blood on his sleeve and the stubble on his face. He had been awake for two nights now and he was exhausted. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home, little love.”

  She glared at him peevishly and turned on her heel and slammed back into the house as Hannah watched her.

  “That’s what I like,” the old woman said acidly, “an understanding wife.” She patted Jeremiah’s arm and went up the steps to get her things. “I’ll be going in a few minutes, Jeremiah. You don’t worry about anything. Get some rest. I left some soup and some stew on the stove for you.”

  “Thank you, Hannah.” He strode quietly inside and poured himself some soup in the kitchen before going upstairs to find his wife in their bedroom.

  “Where were you?” She reeled to face him again.

  “I told you where I was.” He wasn’t anxious to talk about it. He had watched his first child die that night, and almost his mistress of seven years with him.

  “I don’t believe you, Jeremiah.” She looked beautiful and immaculate in a pale pink voile dress, and beside her he felt exhausted and filthy.

  “I don’t think you have much choice, Camille. I told you, I was with one of my men.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he almost died, that’s why.” He snapped the words at her and sat down with his bowl of soup at a table near the fireplace, but she was still fuming as she paced the room.

  “You could have let me know you weren’t coming home.”

  “I’m sorry.” He looked openly at her. “There was no one to send.” The answer seemed to satisfy her and she turned away again, but it intrigued him that she had such a strong sense that he was lying. She was even brighter than she knew, but he couldn’t tell her that, he just went on eating his soup, with fresh respect for her sharp mind and intuitive senses.

  “I suppose you’re going to bed now.” She sounded a little less angry as she sat down in a rocking chair nearby.

  “I’d like to go to church, after I get cleaned up.”

  “Church?” She almost shrieked the word. She hated church, always had. Her mother liked to go to church, but she had never thought much of her mother. “You never go to church.”

  “I do once in a while.” If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have been amused by her reaction. “And we just lost fourteen men at the mines, Camille.” That, and his only baby. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but it would look better if you did.” She glared at him in obvious annoyance.

  “When are we going back to town?”

  “As soon as I can.” He stood up and walked toward her. “I’ll do my best to get you back to San Francisco soon, little one, I promise.” That seemed to mollify her, enough so that she changed her dress and accompanied him to church an hour later. And when they returned, he slept the sleep of the dead until dinnertime, and only woke up to eat another bowl of soup and sleep again until the next morning, when he had to rise to attend the funeral of the men who had died in the mine on Friday. But this time Camille didn’t join him. She stayed home and complained to him later that Hannah hadn’t come in. And he explained that she was tending a sick friend.

  “Why didn’t she tell me that?” Camille fumed. “I’m the mistress of this house. She works for me now.” Jeremiah didn’t like the way she said it, but he didn’t want to enrage her further.

  “She mentioned it to me on Sunday morning when I got home.”

  “And you let her go?” She was livid.

  “I did. I was sure you’d understand.” He tried to embarrass her into silence, but found that he couldn’t. “She’ll be back in a few days.” But it was almost a week before Hannah returned, and reported to him that Mary Ellen was still feeling poorly but she was back on her feet now. He nodded, and was satisfied that she knew there was no hu
rry. He had sent her a note several days before, assuring her that the death of his child changed nothing. He would not remove the stipend she had already been receiving for several months. He had already informed his bank that it would be permanent, and he told her that he hoped she wouldn’t go back to work now. She could stay home and take care of her children, and get her health back. She had wanted to send him a note thanking him, but she hadn’t dared, for fear that it would fall into Camille’s hands. Instead, Hannah thanked him for her. “You’re sure she’s all right, Hannah?”

  “She’s still weak as a cat, but she’s getting stronger.”

  “Probably your good cooking.” He smiled his thanks at the old woman and warned her that Camille had been upset during her absence.

  “Did she cook for you herself?”

  “We managed.” And then he told her that they’d be going back to San Francisco in a few days. The prospect of their departure didn’t please Hannah.

  “It’ll be lonely around here, Jeremiah.”

  “I know. But I’ll be coming back and forth to see to the mines.”

  “That’s hard on you.” But it was only fair to his bride. He couldn’t build her a palace in the city and then condemn her to country life, which she apparently hated.

  “It’ll be all right. And we’ll move up here for the summer months, probably June till September or October.” But if he had his way, he would have moved up in March, and stayed till November. “If you need anything, just let me know, betweentimes.”

  “I will, Jeremiah.”

  “What was that?” A waspish little voice behind them took them both by surprise, and Jeremiah wondered how much she had heard before she made herself known. “Did I hear you say ‘Jeremiah’?” She was addressing herself to Hannah, and they were both startled.

  “You did.” Hannah looked as though she couldn’t figure out what Camille meant, and neither could Jeremiah.

  “I will thank you to refer to my husband as Mister Thurston, from now on, he is not your ‘boy,’ or your ‘lad,’ or your ‘friend.’ He is my husband and your employer, and his name is Mister Thurston.” She had never sounded more Southern or more vicious and Jeremiah was furious at her. He said nothing in front of Hannah, but he followed his wife upstairs, and slammed the door to their bedroom.

  “And just exactly what was that all about, Camille? That was unnecessary, and you were rude to that perfectly decent old woman.” The same old woman who had just nursed his mistress back to health after the stillbirth of his baby. He was still feeling sensitive about all of it, but Camille didn’t know that, and she was in for a surprise now. She had rarely seen him angry. “I won’t tolerate that, and I want you to know that right now.”

  “Tolerate what? I expect respect from our servants, and that old woman acts as though she were your mama. Well, she isn’t, she’s an ugly old woman with a sharp tongue and forward ways, and I’ll whip her if I hear her call you Jeremiah again.” She looked tiny and evil as she stood there and suddenly he wanted to shake her. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her halfway across the room.

  “Whip her? Whip her? This is not the South, Camille, and these are not the days of slavery. If you lay a hand on her, or are ever rude to her again, I’ll whip you, mark my words. Now go down and apologize to her right now.”

  “What?” she shrieked at him in disbelief.

  “Hannah’s worked for me for more than twenty years and she’s decent and loyal, and I’m not going to have her abused, not by some spoiled brat from Atlanta, and you’d damn well better apologize to her right now, or I’ll tan your hide for you!” He was serious but he was already beginning to calm down, unlike his wife, whose eyes blazed with tears of fury.

  “How dare you, Jeremiah Thurston! How dare you! I’ll do no such thing, apologize to that scum.…”

  But this time he’d had enough. He reached out and slapped her, and she caught her breath and reeled backward, catching herself with a hand against the mantel. “If my Daddy were here, he’d whip you to within an inch of your life.” She spoke in a low venomous voice, and Jeremiah instantly sensed that things had gone too far between them.

  “That’s enough, Camille. You were rude to a trusted servant, and I will not tolerate that. But that’s enough talk of whippings, and threats. Behave yourself from now on, and this won’t happen.”

  “Behave myself? Behave myself! Damn you, Jeremiah Thurston. Damn you, and damn you, and damn you!” And with that she stalked out of the room, and slammed the door, and she did not speak to him again until they returned to San Francisco. She was all icy politeness and distance, but as she walked in the front door of their magnificent home on Nob Hill, it took her breath away again, and for an instant she forgot herself and threw her arms around her husband. She was so happy to be back that she forgot how angry at him she had been, and he laughed with pleasure as he carried her upstairs to their bedroom and made love to her.

  “Well, you survived the month in Napa, little lovebird.” He was still discouraged about how she felt about the valley he loved so much. “All we have to do now is have our first baby.” The sting of loss over Mary Ellen’s child was still with him, and it only spurred him to want another one quickly, this one by Camille, his wife. He thanked God that she was young and healthy, and hopefully would never undergo an ordeal like Mary Ellen’s. They had been married for nearly two months now, and he was anxious for her to get pregnant.

  “My mother says it takes a while sometimes, Jeremiah. Just don’t think about it.” But he was growing impatient. And talking about it made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want a baby yet. She was eighteen years old, and they had a magnificent house, and she wanted to give lots of parties, not get fat and feel sick and stay home and die in childbirth.

  And all through the spring months, as she ensconced herself in San Francisco’s social scene, Jeremiah did not get his wish, but she had never been happier in her life. She had reached the status she wanted so badly and they gave parties and balls and dinners and went to operas and concerts. She gave a beautiful picnic in their enormous gardens in May, and she rapidly became known as the city’s most glittering hostess. The balls she gave in their ballroom rivaled those at Versailles in Paris, and Camille was ecstatic at their life. Jeremiah was slightly less so. He was commuting back and forth to Napa as much as he could, and most of the time he was exhausted. She teased him when he fell asleep at one of her sumptuous dinners, and she insisted that they go out every night when he was in town, and when he wasn’t, went out without him. It was a constant social whirl, and she almost went into mourning when he reminded her that on the first of June, they were moving back to Napa.

  “But I wanted to give a summer ball, Jeremiah,” she wailed sadly at him, “can’t we go in July?”

  “No, we can’t. I have to spend some time at the mines, Camille, or there’ll be nothing to support all your parties.” But he was only teasing, he was still the richest man in the state, and they had no financial worries. But he did want to spend more time at the mines, and in summer he liked being near his vineyards, and he had lived long enough in the city. They had been there since February, and he was ready to go home to his valley. He had told Hannah as much when he’d spent the night there the week before.

  “And no baby yet, Jeremiah?” she had asked. She had agreed to humor Camille and call him Mr. Thurston within her hearing, but when they were alone, she still called him Jeremiah, and always would.

  “Not yet.” He was disappointed about that too, and hoped that when he got her away from the city and her constant parties, she would get pregnant. She needed another taste of country life, he told himself, but Hannah pursed her lips with disapproval.

  “Well, we know it’s not you.” And then she frowned. “Maybe she can’t have babies.”

  “I doubt that. It’s only been five and a half months, Hannah, give her time.” He smiled at the old woman. “Give her some good St. Helena air, and she’ll be pregnant in a month’s time.�
�� And then his brow clouded as he remembered Mary Ellen. “How is she?” he asked Hannah. He hadn’t been to see her again since the night their baby died. Somehow, he just didn’t want to. It didn’t seem the right thing to do considering Camille, and she was far too intuitive for him to lie to her very often.

  “She’s all right. It’s taken her a long time to get back on her feet though. I’d say she’s fine now.” And she decided to tell him the rest too. He had a right to know after all, he’d been decent to her. No one could say he hadn’t done the right thing. Jacob Stone at the bank had told everyone how generous Jeremiah had been. “She’s seeing some man who works at the spa, he looks nice enough, works hard,” Hannah shrugged, “but I don’t think she’s too crazy about him.”

  “I hope he’s a nice man,” Jeremiah said quietly, and turned the conversation to other things. They would be moving up to Napa soon, and there was plenty to keep Hannah busy, getting the house ready for their arrival.

  But when Camille arrived in St. Helena, with all her bags and trunks and belongings, she did nothing but find fault with what Hannah had done, and the old woman was so frustrated with Jeremiah’s shrewish young wife that she turned to her one day with a gust of passion and suggested that it was a damn shame he’d married her, and not the woman he’d been seeing in Calistoga before she came along, and that only infuriated Camille further. She began a campaign to try to find out who the woman was, but neither Jeremiah, nor Hannah, who was filled with remorse for her indiscretion and clammed up at once, would tell her who the woman was, or confirm that what she’d said was really true. And the more she dug, the less she found out, until one day, for the fun of it, she went to the spa in Calistoga with a group of her friends who were staying there, for the mudbaths. She had agreed to meet them for lunch at the hotel, and as she waited for them, she saw a man in the spa’s white uniform stroll along with an attractive redhead in a green dress that caught Camille’s eye. There was something about the girl that held Camille’s attention. She held a lace parasol carelessly resting on one shoulder and she was laughing up into the man’s eyes, and as she did so, something in the distance seemed to catch her attention, and she instinctively turned toward Camille, feeling her gaze upon her. The two women’s eyes met, and Mary Ellen instantly realized who Camille was, she looked exactly as she’d been described to her by Hannah and others who had seen her, and at the same moment it was as though someone had shouted in Camille’s ear or put a sign up over Mary Ellen’s head. She knew instantly who she was and what she had been to Jeremiah. She half rose in her seat and then sat down again, feeling flushed and breathless, as Mary Ellen walked quickly away on her friend’s arm, but for the rest of the day, Camille was haunted by her. She was the prettiest girl she had seen in the Napa Valley, and she instinctively knew now that this had to be the woman Hannah had inadvertently referred to … and with all of Jeremiah’s trips back and forth to the mines during the winter and spring months, who knew if the liaison hadn’t continued. She stewed about it all the way home in the carriage, and when Jeremiah returned from the mine office that evening, she pounced on him with a venom that both alarmed and amazed him.