Millwright's Daughter

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Millwright's Daughter Page 3

by Zina Abbott


  Eliza felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her already overheated neck and cheeks as she observed the amused grin on the man as he studied her. She grabbed the top edge of his wagon sideboards in an attempt to hide the tremble in her limbs. Her thoughts in a jumble, she blurted out the first words that came to her mind. “I don’t recall seeing you before. Who are you?”

  The grin spread into a full smile that, to Eliza, lit the man’s face.

  “Mr. Kit Halsey, Miss. I’m doing some hauling for Mr. Wells now. I heard he had a couple of daughters. Might you be one of them?”

  Eliza, her face now suffused in pink, stepped back and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself first before so rudely demanding to know who you are. I’m his niece, Eliza Wells. My two cousins who are the daughters you referred to are still working in the house. I was helping Joey out in the barn and decided to take a break while he catches up.”

  She watched Kit’s eyes twinkle with a knowing look. “Joey must be the son I’ve heard about. I take it he is not enthusiastic about cleaning the barn.”

  “No. He’s not enthusiastic about any kind of work, especially when his father orders him to do it. Then again, he’s fourteen. Most boys his age would rather decide what to do with their time, and they prefer some kind of amusement with their friends over work. Even though I understand, I warned him at the start I’m only doing my fair portion. I hope by my example he’ll learn that if he finishes quickly instead of dawdling, he has time for a rest to do what he wants. Then again, my uncle tends to keep him working, so maybe he has decided if he hurries to finish, Uncle will just find him more work to do.”

  Kit glanced in the direction of the barn before he once again focused his gaze on Eliza. “I’m sure your uncle is trying to teach him that in order to be successful in life, a man must learn to work. However, I’m surprised to learn you’ve been out laboring in the barn. Barn work is not usually for young ladies. Do you do it because you enjoy horses?”

  Eliza broke eye contact with Kit as a wistful expression brushed over her face. “I’m not sure anyone really enjoys barn work, but I enjoy riding. I had my own horse until after my mother died. My grandmother felt it was more appropriate for me at my age to use a carriage.”

  “I see.”

  Eliza watched Kit’s gaze turn in the direction of the mill office. She turned to see what had captured his attention. Her uncle, a scowl on his face and anger pouring off him, marched towards them. She wondered what had upset him.

  Kit turned back to Eliza, his smile once again sending her insides tingling. “It’s been my pleasure to meet you, Miss Wells. It looks like your uncle has it in mind to speak to one of us. I better continue loading the wagon.”

  “Eliza!”

  Hearing her name shouted, Eliza involuntarily jumped and spun to face her uncle now ten feet from them and still approaching. She studied Joseph’s countenance, her face crinkled in puzzlement.

  Joseph jerked his head in the direction of the mill office. “Wait for me in my office, Eliza.”

  Eliza raised her eyebrows, but she kept her voice respectful. “Certainly, Uncle Joseph.” She turned to call to Kit who again walked towards his wagon with another barrel of flour balanced on his shoulder. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Halsey.”

  ~o0o~

  Out of his peripheral vision, Kit watched Eliza saunter towards the stone office building. He had needed no introduction to know the pretty blonde was Eliza, not one of her cousins. She still looked like the portrait Kit had seen at her grandmother’s home.

  Kit’s focus remained on Joseph Wells who now stood, his arms akimbo, as the man glared at him. He dropped the barrel into the wagon back and walked it in place to ride solidly along with the rest of his load.”

  “I’m not paying you to talk to my niece.”

  Kit refused to let the bully of a millwright ruffle his confidence. He turned to Joseph with a smile. “No, you’re paying me to take a wagonload of eighty barrels of wheat and corn flour to the railyard in Oak Hill to go out on this evening’s train. Even with stopping partway to rest the mules and get something to eat after I get across the covered bridge, I’ll arrive there in plenty of time.”

  “You still don’t have time to dawdle with my family members.”

  Kit shrugged. “She approached me and introduced herself. I’m sure you would not wish me to be rude to your family members. Beyond that, nothing but pleasantries was exchanged between us until you arrived.” Kit offered a grin. “She does not much favor today’s spring weather.”

  Kit allowed his eyes wander over Joseph’s face. He suspected something more than a simple introduction and a few comments about the weather drove the man to warn him off Eliza Wells. He knew he must tread carefully. He still had too much to learn to antagonize the man.

  “Excuse me, sir, I should finish loading and get going, if for no other reason than to finish my journey before the heat of the day catches up with me. I don’t want to overwork my mules unnecessarily.”

  Just as he turned towards the warehouse, Kit realized Joseph continue to stare at him.

  “You don’t talk like a Californian. Where did you say you’re from?”

  Like the Wells family, Kit was from Ohio. However, he knew he better lie about it to deflect suspicion. He turned back to face Joseph. “Indiana. No more room on the farm, so I decided to try my luck out west.”

  It was not much of a lie. Once he started law school in Bloomington, he would be a resident of the state of Indiana. And, for lack of ability of the ice business to support both his brother’s family and him, he had needed to move on from the family “farm.”

  Joseph responded with a grunt. “Stay away from my niece. She’s promised to another.”

  Kit nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. He watched Joseph’s retreating back as the man walked with purpose towards the stone building where they had met just a few days earlier.

  Promised to another? Kit mulled that over as he returned to the warehouse to load the last few barrels. He realized he had gleaned enough information to send a progress report to Catherine Arnold by way of her attorney. He dared not send a telegram or even a letter to Ohio from either Kerr’s Ferry or Oak Hill, two small towns close to the mill and where Joseph Wells no doubt conducted a lot of business. It might be noticed and word of his communication back to Ohio might be passed on to the millwright. Once he finished his delivery to the railyard and put his mules in the stables to reward them for their hard work this warm day, he planned to rent a horse and follow the road towards Modesto, a bigger town than Oak Hill, and one where he was not known.

  He would send a telegram coded to the effect that the ordered goods were still in the warehouse in good condition, but the seller claimed they were promised to another. That should serve well as a first communication.

  ~o0o~

  Eliza stopped pacing the floor and turned towards the sound of the opening door. She remained quiet as she watched her uncle, a scowl on his face, enter and then push it shut.

  “What were you doing by the mill warehouse, Eliza? I thought you had chores to do.”

  “I finished my chores. With this heat, I came down by the river to see if I could catch a breeze.”

  “So, you and Joey are finished? Why isn’t he here? I have other things for him to do.”

  “No, he’s still working on his portion. I started dividing the work up between us once I realized he would hold back in hopes I would end up doing three-fourths of the job. I now insist we agree on what each of us will do ahead of time.”

  Joseph shook his head. “The boy is lazy.”

  Eliza kept her voice soft, hoping to not further antagonize her uncle. “I’m not so sure of that. He does do a good job. I think he would like a little more say in how spends his time. He’s mentioned more than once it doesn’t pay for him to hurry up and finish a job because you just find more work for him to do. If anything, he’d rather work here with you rather than d
o other chores.”

  When Joseph stared at her but said nothing, Eliza inhaled and ventured forth with her suggestion. “He’s still young, Uncle Joseph. He still enjoys having some free time to do the things he likes to do. Maybe you should tell him if he finishes his chores and does them well, he can have a bit of the time left over for himself.”

  Joseph shook his head and scowled as he walked behind his desk and fiddled with some papers. “That’s not how the world works, Eliza. Joey needs to learn in order to succeed, there is always work to be done.”

  “He sees no success in exchange for his work, Uncle. He sees no reward. You work hard for your business, and your reward is the money you earn and the right to make the decisions on how to run your business. Joey doesn’t have that. Maybe, Uncle, if you give him a reward—not necessarily money, but choices about where to work or what to do with his free time if he learns to work faster—maybe he’ll be more enthusiastic about his tasks.”

  “Where did you come by such nonsense?”

  “That’s how I was raised. I had work assigned to me when I was not in school. However, as long as the completed chores met their expectations, my parents allowed me to do what I wanted if I finished early.”

  A frown on his face, Joseph jerked his head up until his gaze met Eliza’s. “That sounds like my brother. He always was soft. Joey’s reward—and yours, for that matter—is you two have food to eat and clothes on your back. Now, either go help Joey finish in the barn, or go to the house and help your aunt and cousins there.”

  Bristling at the insult to her parents, Eliza turned to look behind her at the clock on the wall next to the door. “Aunt Phoebe asked me to come to the house by eleven o’clock to help her and the girls get dinner on the table. I still have a few more minutes before I need to return and wash up.”

  “Go now. And I don’t want to see you down by the mill by yourself again.”

  Eliza studied her uncle, aware of the anger pouring off him. She kept her voice calm, hoping to not antagonize him further. “Why may I not come to the mill by myself, Uncle Joseph? I’ve been there several times with Aunt Phoebe and the cousins. Back home when my father was still alive, I used to go to the mill all the time. I know to stay away from the mill race and the moving gears.”

  “This is your home now, Eliza. I don’t want you around the men.”

  Bewildered, Eliza shook her head. “Papa’s men always treated me with respect. They knew I was the millwright’s daughter and they looked out for me. Are you saying you don’t hire trustworthy men?”

  Eliza stepped back as Joseph slammed his palms on his desk and leaned towards her. “Do not argue with me! I don’t want to hear what Benjamin allowed you to do. I am your…” Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and stood to his full height as he inhaled to regain his composure. He continued in a quieter voice. “You are with me now, Eliza. You are no longer a young girl. Men look at you differently now than they did when you were a child. I don’t want you wandering anywhere near the mill or the warehouse alone. Now, go help your aunt and cousins.”

  Realizing it was not wise to provoke her uncle further, Eliza stared down at her feet. She glanced at him, her murmured response barely loud enough to be heard. “Yes, Uncle Joseph.”

  Eliza left the office and quietly closed the door behind her. She exhibited one remaining sign of rebellion by slowing her walk to the house so she arrived no earlier than the time her aunt had requested her to be there to help.

  While she walked, Eliza pinched the fabric of her bodice and pulled it away from the sheen of perspiration coating her skin. She shook the damp material in hopes of drying it somewhat so it did not continue to cling to her. She smiled to herself as she realized when she experienced this level of heat back home in Ohio, the higher humidity of the region caused her clothes to stick to her even more.

  Eliza’s smile slid from her face. Home in Ohio. How she wished to return to her home, even with its biting winter storms and humid hot summers. Once again, she felt frustration rise in her over her California family’s resistance to her returning home. Why had her uncle insisted this was her home now? It was almost like her family here in California was trying to force her to stay.

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  Kerr’s Ferry, California – May 6, 1882

  Chapter 5

  ~o0o~

  E liza turned to her oldest cousin. “Julie, do you wish for me to style your hair?”

  Julie shrugged, a look of hopelessness on her face. “No need to bother. There will be no benefit for me either way.”

  Eliza sucked in her breath. “Julie, how can you say that? We’re going to the May Day social. I know you like to dance. With it being held in Oak Hill, it will draw people from all over, including several eligible men.”

  “I’m not interested in several eligible men.”

  “You can’t be serious. I thought you would have been looking forward to this for weeks. Look at Lydia. She can’t wait to go.”

  “That’s only because this is the first time Papa has given her permission to dance at a grown-up party. I’ve been before.”

  Eliza blinked in surprise. “So? I’ve been to socials before. That doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to this one.”

  Lydia stepped over and sat on the bed with a bounce. “Oh, she’s just in a sour pucker because Mr. Irwin is going to be there, but he’s only supposed to pay attention to you.”

  Eliza twisted to face her younger cousin. “Who said that?”

  “Papa. He said Mr. Irwin is not for me. I must do what is best for the family and encourage you to spend time with him”

  Eliza turned back and stared at Julie. She slowly shook her head. “I know Uncle Joseph made a point to introduce me to Mr. Irwin. I didn’t think much of it until Uncle kept asking me if I liked him, and he extended an invitation to Mr. Irwin to come calling. He seems nice enough. However, I don’t want to spend much time with Mr. Irwin. He simply does not interest me.”

  Julie, her eyelids brimming with tears, spun to glare at Eliza. “How can you say that? He is the most handsome, most wonderful man…” She turned away and hunched her shoulders. “I don’t care if he’s a little bit older. I would give anything to have Daniel…I mean, Mr. Irwin…spend time with me.”

  Eliza canted her head as she studied her cousin. “You really care for Daniel Irwin, don’t you?” Eliza watched the back of Julie’s head bob. “Then, sit up and let me style your hair. We are going to do everything we can to make you look your most beautiful self so Mr. Irwin will only see you.”

  Julie straightened in her seat and turned to look at Eliza. “I’m not pretty like you, Eliza. I don’t even have the Wells eyes like you and Lydia and Joey. I overheard Papa tell Mama Mr. Irwin will prefer you, and that’s what Papa wants.”

  “Well, that’s not what I want. Besides, your eyes may not be the same as the rest of us, but they have their own beauty.”

  Eliza pulled a handkerchief from her waistband and handed it to her cousin. “Dry your tears, Julie. My mother once told me that when a woman is in love, it makes her face glow and appear more beautiful than ever.

  “She said she knew people thought her pretty, and she always had young men—and some not so young—trying to win her affections. She knew a friend who was rather plain and attracted no beaus for months. Finally, one young man began to pay a bit of attention to her friend, and her friend soon fell madly in love with him. But, what amazed my mother was, as soon as her friend was in love and started being seen with her young man, other men began to notice her and ask if they could call on her. Mother realized it was because of the glow about her and light of love in her eyes—it attracted men. If you truly care for Mr. Irwin, it will show through. Perhaps he will see it and want to be only with you. First, though, you need to get rid of those tears and red eyelids so the love you feel shines through.”

  Julie’s whisper revealed hope. “Honestly, Eliza? Do you truly believe that?
You’ll help me win Mr. Irwin’s attention?”

  “Certainly. I think you are perfect for Mr. Irwin. Besides, I’m not interested in becoming seriously involved with California men because I plan to return home to Ohio as soon as possible.”

  “Better not let Papa hear you say that. He wants you to stay here with us.”

  Eliza turned to Lydia in her sky blue dress and shook her head. “I’m beginning to think that. I just don’t know why. I’ve always planned to go back home after a short visit. I never even planned to stay over winter. Lydia, please be a dear and see if there’s any ice in the house you can chop up and put in a cloth to put over Julie’s eyes. We need to get rid of the swelling. Once you get back, I’ll do your hair next if you like.”

  “All right. But don’t talk about anything important until I return.”

  “We won’t. And, Lydia? This secret is between us. Don’t say anything about it to your parents.”

  Eliza grabbed for the curling iron heating in the flame of the oil lamp and turned Julie to face her. “Here, let me curl the fringe hairs at your temples so they draw attention to your beautiful eyebrows and forehead. We’ll fix your hair high on the back of your head.” Eliza did not say so, but she knew drawing attention away from Julie’s heavy chin would improve her appearance. The glow of love and the pretty pale pink gown Julie planned to wear would need to do the rest.

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  Oak Hill, California – May 6, 1882

  Chapter 6

  ~o0o~

  K it stood in the shade of a stately oak and studied the people entering the Oak Hill town hall, the location of the May Day dance. It was six days past the first day of May, the acknowledged May Day. However, considering most people worked, the following Saturday was best day for the community to celebrate spring and the promise of a bountiful harvest. Early stone fruits such as apricots and cherries would soon be harvested. As the summer progressed, other fruit and nut varieties grown in the San Joaquin Valley in increasing numbers would enjoy their weeks of harvest. Interspersed among the trees were acres of row crops, some of which Kit did not recognize.

 

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