Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] Read Free Page A

Meyer fellow—” Cass began.
    “A good man, from what I can tell,” Ma said. “He was dragged into Goldie’s by a bunch of wild friends. He paid Sadie to
talk—
and then begged her not to tell his friends that’s how they spent their time. It’s been that way ever since.” She paused. “I think Sadie genuinely likes him.”
    When the couple came to where Cass and Ma stood talking, Meyer offered Ma his arm. She took it with a smile at Cass. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be all right.”
    “Come to supper tomorrow,” Meyer said, and mentioned an address in the tidy neighborhood called the Russian Bottoms.
    Cass promised to come and stood for a few moments, watching the three make their way toward Meyer’s neighborhood. Cass didn’t know Meyer, but Sutton Builders employed plenty of Germans from that neighborhood, every one of them God-fearing and hardworking. At some point in the past they’d emigrated en masse from Germany to Russia. But they’d kept their heritage and their traditional faith alive. They were pacifists, and when the Russians began to force their sons into the army, the Germans were forced to either leave the region or betray their conscience.
    Conscience.
The things conscience could demand of a man. Cass thought again of the boss. What caused a man to betray a woman as beautiful and accomplished as Juliana Sutton?
What causes another man to remain silent when he knows it’s going on?
    When Cass had finally realized that Jessup’s suspicions were true, he’d told himself it wasn’t any of his business. Maybe it wasn’t, but that wasn’t why he ignored the obvious, and the real reason shamed him. Confronting the boss would almost definitely amount to firing himself. And Cass didn’t want to lose his job.
    Coward. You ignore what’s going on right under your nose and let your own mother, your own sister
—He corrected himself. He wasn’t
letting
Sadie or Ma do anything. He’d begged Sadie to leave Goldie’s, but she refused. And as long as Sadie wouldn’t leave, neither would Ma. He was doing the best he could. Working, saving money, and hoping for better things. He’d even started going to church a couple of years ago, not only surprised at how well he remembered the Bible stories Ma had read to him when he was a boy but also comforted by the sermons. Pastor Taylor was a humble man who had a way of scattering hope across his congregation. And hope kept Cass coming back. Hope that God hadn’t abandoned him. Hope that someday he’d be able to make it up to Ma and Sadie for running off. For not being there when they’d needed him most.
    Cass turned back toward the ruined building. The fire was almost out, the crowd dispersing. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed for the rooming house. He’d only taken a few steps when a shout sounded and Dr. Gilbert jumped down from the back of the wagon where he’d been tending the blond-haired working girl. He darted toward the stretcher being carried out of what was left of Goldie’s.
    It didn’t take long for the doctor to shake his head and draw a sheet over the victim’s face.
    But it was long enough for Cass to recognize Sterling Sutton.

CHAPTER 2
    Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions.

P SALM 51:1
    L udwig Meyer’s house was so small it barely deserved to be called a house. Yet as Margaret followed Sadie and Mr. Meyer inside, the aromas of soup and pipe tobacco, along with the warmth of a tiny coal-burning stove in the miniscule parlor, transformed her first impressions. The house might be tiny, but it was also cozy. It felt like a home.
    Divided down the middle, it boasted a combination parlor and kitchen on the left and what Margaret assumed to be two bedrooms on the right, both of them opening directly into the living area. In the parlor portion of the house, two rockers sat atop a large rag rug. Between the chairs, a