Free Josiah's Treasure by Nancy Herriman

Cady, girls. Please don’t speak to the others about this. You need to concentrate on your studies and our preparations for the studio, that’s all. Don’t worry.”
    “Why might we worry?” Anne asked.
    Sarah frowned; she’d made a poor choice of words. “Anne, you can begin coloring the master sketch. You’ve drawn enough detail to give a good sense of the landscape. Lottie, I need to speak with you in the garden.”
    Sarah removed her apron and swept out of the room, frightening Rufus from his favorite chair on the landing.
    “So it did go badly,” Lottie stated, pulling her skirts upward to keep from stumbling as she dashed down the stairs behind Sarah.
    Sarah strode through the dining room, Rufus trotting behind, straight out the rear door past the kitchen and down into the garden. She breathed in the sweetness of the roses, enjoyed the sunlight warming her face, listened to the burble of the fountain.
For just a moment, let there be peace . . .
    Any peace she would feel would be an illusion, though. An illusion she could ill afford to lose herself in.
    “He didn’t accept the bribe. He threw the money back at me, in fact.” Sarah hugged her arms around her waist and watched Rufus weave between the legs of the wicker garden chairs, his bent tail slapping against the stretchers. “He boldly proclaimed he would definitely prove he was Josiah’s son. And then, foolish me, I thought to take him to the shop. I wanted to show him what we intend to do. Maybe even convince him to invest in our business. As if my plans could melt that glacial heart of his.”
    “I do not believe you have known him long enough to assess the condition of his heart, Sarah,” Lottie replied with a small, sly smile.
    “Oh, Lottie, don’t tease. Not at a time like this.” Scooping up Rufus, Sarah took to pacing along the tiny gravel path. After Josiah’s passing, she had paced endlessly, wearing a track in the parlor carpet, which Mrs. McGinnis had spent hours repairing with a hot iron and a coarse coconut-fiber brush. “What am I to do now?”
    “I will not suggest you plead or beg him to be generous. I know that is not like you.”
    “We’ll have to find more donors. It’s obvious.” But if she lost the house and the Placerville property, would anyone be willing to provide enough money to cover all her expenses? The question made her brain churn like a paddlewheel on a riverboat. “And I’ll have to sell more paintings. Beyond that, I can’t think of what else to do. And before you say ‘pray’—”
    “Sarah,” Lottie interrupted, her tone chastising but her expression kind. “We simply must trust in God’s mercy.”
    Trust in the God who had let her father die and then her mother and siblings perish in a summer storm, blown away on the wind? The God who had deposited her in the home of a bitter aunt who didn’t know what it meant to love? The same God who had brought Edouard Marchand into her life, the man who had nearly led her to ruin?
    Sarah curled her fingers through Rufus’s fur and looked away, stared at the roses basking in the sunshine, let the tabby’s purr rumble through her arms. And she said the words burning in her heart that would make Lottie cross. “God sent Daniel Cady here. If He intended to be merciful, the man never would have found me.”
    “You cannot know what His plans are for you. But I believe you are not meant to fail now, so near to realizing your dream. Our dream.”
    “Let’s hope Daniel Cady pays attention to God’s merciful plans.”
Because I do not trust them.
    The rear door slammed open and Minnie burst through,bounding down the steps into the garden. “Miss Sarah, I’ve found another girl.”
    “Minnie Tobin,” Lottie chided. She squeezed Sarah’s arm before wagging a teasing finger at the girl. “How many times have you been told to make a more ladylike entrance?”
    Minnie flushed. “Sorry, miss, but Mrs. McGinnis said you were both out here and I wanted Miss