Tracie Peterson - A Lady of Secret Devotion

LADIES OF LIBERTY

A LADY of
SECRET
DEVOTION

TRACIE PETERSON

A Lady of Secret Devotion
Copyright 2008
Tracie Peterson

Cover design by Brand Navigation/Deanna Pierce
Author photo by Mark Dixon
Cover photography by Steve Gardner, PixelWorks Studios, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwisewithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Printed in the United States of America

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Peterson, Tracie.
A lady of secret devotion / Tracie Peterson.
p. cm. (Ladies of liberty)
ISBN 978-0-7642-0532-3 (alk. paper) ISBN 978-0-7642-0147-9 (pbk.)
1. SocialitesFiction. 2. Philadelphia (Pa.)History19th centuryFiction.
I. Title.

PS3566.E7717L34 2008
813'.54dc22

2008014237

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To Cathy and Chris
Thanks for the laughter, the love
and the joy of our friendship.

Contents

T RACIE P ETERSON is the author of over seventy novels, both historical and contemporary. Her avid research resonates in her stories, as seen in her bestselling Heirs of Montana and A LASKAN Q UEST series. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana.

Visit Tracies Web site at www.traciepeterson.com .

Books by Tracie Peterson
www.traciepeterson.com A Slender Thread I Cant Do It All!
What She Left For Me Where My Heart Belongs A LASKAN Q UEST
Summer of the Midnight Sun
Under the Northern Lights Whispers of Winter B RIDESOF G ALLATIN C OUNTY
A Promise to Believe In A Love to Last Forever T HE B ROADMOOR L EGACY
A Daughters Inheritance An Unexpected Love B ELLS OF L OWELL
Daughter of the Loom A Fragile Design
These Tangled Threads
Bells of Lowell (3 in 1)L IGHTS OF L OWELL
A Tapestry of Hope A Love Woven True
The Pattern of Her Heart D ESERT R OSES
Shadows of the Canyon Across the Years
Beneath a Harvest Sky H EIRS OF M ONTANA
Land of My Heart The Coming Storm
To Dream Anew The Hope Within L ADIES OF L IBERTY
A Lady of High Regard A Lady of Hidden Intent
A Lady of Secret Devotion W ESTWARD C HRONICLES
A Shelter of Hope Hidden in a Whisper A Veiled Reflection Y UKON Q UEST
Treasures of the North Ashes and Ice Rivers of Gold

with Judith Miller

with Allison Bottke and Dianne OBrian

Philadelphia
April 1857

C assandra Stover couldnt put the screams and sight of blood from her mind. The sounds and images had haunted her for the last three days, three days of torment and torture as she remembered the ten-year-old boy whose hand had been torn off by the iron teeth of a machine gear.

It had been Cassies second day of work at the textile factory, but it also proved to be her last. She couldnt bear that such horrific accidents were seen as commonplace, yet most of the workers had continued with their duties. Only a few went to take charge of the child and whisk him away. Injuries were seen as just one more risk of employment.

Still, I need a job, she told herself as she left the steps of Christ Church, where shed just spent the last hour praying for guidance. Her mother and little sister, Elida, were depending on her. Now that Elida was nearly ten, she was old enough to help their mother with the family laundry service and Cassie could venture out to find a job that could offer even more money for their living expenses.

The only problem is, she whispered to herself, Im not qualified for much of anything. My sewing is atrocious and my cooking, only fair.

She sighed and looked across the grassy park. The day was proving to be quite pleasant. Flowers bloomed, offering delicate touches of color against the new grass. The budding trees revealed new life, and the world seemed fresh and renewed.

Cassie strolled for some time before deciding to take a seat on one of the park benches. Father, I dont understand what I am to do, Cassie said with a sigh. She glanced heavenward at the wispy white clouds and tried to imagine she could hear God answering her with some profound wisdom that would change her life.

She smiled to herself. How silly I can be. She recalled her childhood games of pretend when she would serve tea to Jesus and His disciples. Except, of course, for Judas. Giggling to herself, she recalled explaining to her mother that Judas didnt deserve tea and cookies. After all, he would betray Jesus. Her mother, however, explained that no one deserved to share tea and cookies with Jesus, but that everyone certainly needed to do so. After that, Cassie had set up another cup and saucer away from the other twelve. Judas could have his tea and cookies, but he would do so at another table.

Make-believe had accompanied Cassie most of her life. She had loved to pretend as a girl that she was a princess from a faraway country. She had dreamed of being rich and not merely the daughter of a modest merchant.

Papa, if you were here, you would surely know what to suggest. Of course, if Papa were still alive, there would be no dilemma regarding their welfare.

Cassie heard noises behind her and fell silent. No sense in letting people believe her teched in the head. She bowed in prayer, pleading with God to see her need and answer her questions.

Her mothers laundry service had provided well enough since Cassies fathers death, now nearly ten years past. They werent poverty stricken, yet providing for their needs was a constant concern. Everything good came with effort, her mother would often say, but Cassie worried that such effort was aging her mother before her time. Not only that, but from the moment her father had died, Cassie had longed to ease her mothers burden, to take her turn caring for the family. Finding another job would allow Cassie to do just that.

Oh my.

Cassie raised her head and opened her eyes to find an elderly woman leaning heavily against the back of the bench. Stylishly dressed in a dark rose walking-out suit, the woman looked oddly familiar. Cassie immediately got to her feet and offered to help her sit.

Are you all right? she asked gently.

Goodness, I believe Ive walked too far today. She pulled a fan from her reticule and attempted to open it.

Cassie took the fan in her hand as recognition dawned. Here, allow me. She opened it and let the air work to revive the woman before adding, Arent you Mrs. Jameston? We attend Christ Church, and Im certain weve met before.

Oh yes, youre Cassandra Stover. I know your mother, Dora, quite well. She has often helped with various church affairs.

Smiling, Cassie nodded. That would be my mother. She loves to help others.

Mrs. Jameston smoothed out her jacket and closed her eyes for a moment. I feel much revived. You are a good nurse, my dear.

Well, please sit and rest for a while longer. Ill walk home with you when you are ready, but you mustnt press yourself too hard.

The older woman opened her eyes at this. It seems Ive been pressing too hard all of my seventy years. A habit that is difficult to break, for I come from stubborn stock.

Cassie grinned. My mother says the same of me. I have a tendency to be opinionated, outspoken, and stubborn.