“The flowers are wilting and I have to get home. Are you ready to go?”
Olivia’s eyes sparked as she turned back to James. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see you around.” She finished, voice cooler than before.
James tipped his hat. “Miss Olivia, Miss Elspeth, a pleasure.”
I tipped my head, barely civil, in his direction.
Together we turned towards town. I could feel James’ sharp-eyed gaze in the middle of my back as we walked away and I shivered.
OLIVIA STARTED IN AS soon as we were out of earshot. “What was that? You were rude. I thought you had better manners...” Olivia whined when we were down the road a piece, the sound grating on my nerves.
I interrupted, my temper sparking. “Look, I don’t like him. Don’t like his father and that’s enough for me. If you like him, I give you my complete blessing.”
Olivia wasn’t convinced. “I think you were playing hard to get. Boys can’t resist that, that’s what Mama says.”
Elspeth rolled her eyes. “I’m impossible for him to get is what, because I’m not interested.”
OLIVIA PURSED HER LIPS and looked away, unconvinced. She hadn’t missed the gleam in James’ eyes as he glimpsed Elspeth’s flash of skin. Mama was right. Maybe Elspeth wore her skirts that short on purpose. Maybe she’d been wrong about Elspeth.
AT DINNER THAT NIGHT she told her mother all about it. “I can’t believe she flirted with James Corbin like that. Shameful is what it was. She pretended like she didn’t like him. She was rude to him, with no manners at all. But all the time I think she was stringing him along.”
Isla nodded, her eyes cruel with self-righteous indignation. “I told you she couldn’t be trusted. Those families that live up that way out of town? They are nothing like us. Trash if you ask me.”
Mr. Thompson attempted to speak up. “Now ladies, really is that any way...”
“I think it is, yes. Olivia has got to be taught the ways of the world and that includes understanding those that are less well off than we are. Poor like that, with no manners or decorum. I knew she was a shameless trollop the first time I saw her, with those skirts...”
“They are poor. They can’t afford to clothe those kids and keep everything scandal free; they grow too fast...”
“Nonsense, and for you to make excuses makes me wonder if maybe you like it that her skirts are so high? You have eyes enough for Moira Walsh when she comes into town with all that bright orange hair.”
“Red...” he started and snapped his mouth shut. It was too late.
“So you have noticed! They don’t even go to church every Sunday. Law requires it by Puritan standards.”
Olivia was warming to her subject. “She showed James Corbin her ankles on purpose, Mama, whirling that skirt so it flew right up in the air. I know she did it to get his attention. She was leading him on. What he’d want with some poor farm girl I don’t know. I mean, I come from an excellent family, don’t I.”
Isla’s eyes frosted. “Of course you do, you come from the best,” she soothed.
Oliva nodded. “And she has that awful skin condition. I bet when he gets a look at that he won’t be so keen on Miss Elspeth Walsh!” she hissed.
Mr. Thompson, who had lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, spoke up. “What condition are you talking about? Mrs. Thompson makes her own skin creams. I’d think she’d have something for that if she’s got a rash.”
Isla’s eyes narrowed on her husband, but she spoke to Olivia. “Yes, what are you talking about? I’ve seen her hands and face. Unless you count those unsightly freckles from being in the sun, she looks healthy enough.”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know. When we were berry picking the other day she broke out in these like hives. Her skin got brown and splotchy and looked like it was flaking off. It was like hives, sorta. Although she was better by the time we went to bed.”
Isla’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. “I think you should reconsider your choice in friends, Olivia. I’m not sure Elspeth and her family are an appropriate influence.”
Olivia frowned and then brightened. “Well, she’s not coming to church this weekend.”
Isla stared at her daughter in some confusion. “So, what’s that got to do with anything?”
Olivia’s eyes went dreamy. “James will be there.” Was all she said.
“Olivia Thompson, you are too young for boys!” she stated, alarmed.
Olivia nodded and dipped her head demurely, hiding a smile. She wasn’t too young for that boy.
I PULLED THE LAST OF the pungent bunch of wild garlic up, shaking off the roots but collecting every other part of the leafy plant with its tiny purple flowers that I’d pulled from along the north facing hill of the Green River. The sun was high, shining on the bright purple petals, the cones reaching upwards. One more herb to complete what mama needed. She’d make it into a tincture to ward off asthma and shortness of breath. I turned to look at the river as it meandered slowly in both directions, wide and clear. A great fishing river that my brother’s and Da frequented when they were all in the mood for a little trout for the dinner table.
I collected my basket and moved further upstream. I was almost done. My eyes moved back and forth over the hill, looking for the large white heads of Valerian. It was the last herb on my list and I’d be heading back to help Mama with supper. The warmth of the morning sun beat down on my white-capped head, making sweat pool along my brow. I used a piece of muslin I’d draped around my neck and dipped it in the cool river water to wipe at the grime and sticky dampness. It was a welcome relief and I closed my eyes in relief.
“So you weren’t feeding me a line about that.” A deep voice mused.
My eyes flashed open in shock and I squealed in surprise as I jerked around. A tall shadow, back lit by the sun, stood on top of the bank. James Corwin, legs spread, hands on his hips, stared down at me in sardonic amusement.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, less than kindly. I was not fond of unexpected surprises.
He stared at me with interest, his eyes sliding along my throat where the water droplets pooled and disappeared beneath the neckline of my high-necked collar. More than a few wispy platinum tendrils had escaped the hasty bun I’d thrown up that morning, straggling in a dangle from beneath my bonnet to hang over my shoulder.
“Fishing, I was dipping the pole and hoping to come up with a fat trout for supper.” He said, eyes continuing to rove without permission or welcome to my mind.
I shrugged. “I had no reason to lie. It’s common knowledge that I walk the banks of this river and through the woods looking for the proper herbs and roots for what Mama makes.
He looked at her with suspicion. “What is she making, anyhow? Why doesn’t she just get her medicine from the Good Doctor in town like everyone else?”
I scoffed. “I wouldn’t trust the good doctor to fix a sprained wrist. I trust my Mama to know what’s best. She’s been helping people in these mountains as long as I’ve been alive.” I stared at James, using my hand to shield the sun as I looked up. I didn’t like that his face was in the shadows, making his expression difficult to read.
“Strange coincidence. Running into you though.” I noted. I wound the still damp cloth around my neck and tied a small knot to keep it in place. Picking up my basket, I climbed to the top of the bank. At the last minute he bent down and offered me a hand over the edge. I thought to ignore it but couldn’t come up with a principled reason for my continued rudeness. Mama had taught me better than that.
The clamminess of his fingers as he clasped my hand and pulled me up sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine. As he pulled me abreast of the hill he gave a sharp, unexpected tug. I stumbled forward, losing my balance. I gasped and threw up my arms to brace myself as I fell into him.
Laughing, instead of pushing me away, he snugged me closer as if I’d purposely thrown myself at him. He nuzzled my mussed hair aside and tried to nuzzle my neck.
&n
bsp; Trembling, growling with outrage, I wrenched myself free. “What are you doing, sir? I did not ask for your attentions.” I ground out, incensed.
He scowled, his mouth drawing into what resembled a pout of temper. He reached out and grabbed my arm. “Of course you did. You all but attacked me, coming at me like that.”
I Stared at him in amazement, doubting anyone could be that dense. My temper spiked. I felt my cheeks heat with color and my skin burn where he’d touched me. I stared at his hand, still on my person.
“Let me go, James Corwin.” I hissed.
He laughed and squeezed tighter. “Stop playing games. You know you like me. All the girls do.” He said, self-importance thick in his voice.
My gaze should have frozen him where he stood.. “Not this girl. I’m not interested. If you don’t let go of me this instant I’m gonna scream so loud. I’ll tell your daddy you are accosting girls. You take liberties you’ve no right to.” I bit out, shaking with rage.
With a snort of disgust, he released me, thrusting me away. “Do you really think they’re gonna believe you? Do you know who my daddy is? You should be grateful I’m willing to give you the time of day.”
I snorted, temper spiking so high I saw red. “Oh yeah, I know who your daddy is alright.” I sneered, backing away. He kept pace, stalking me, the idiot. His brows were steepled in anger as he followed.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Just who do you think you are? Miss high and mighty. You think you’re too good for me or what?”
I struggled to keep my mouth shut, but my temper got the better of me. “I Know I am.” I hissed.
Face turning purple with rage, James stepped forward once more and snagged my wrist. My skirt’s twisted about my ankles and I fell backwards onto my backside, the basket tumbling from my nerveless fingers.
Suddenly James released me with a strange look on his face, his eyes glued to my exposed forearms and the brownish scales that now covered them. With a gasp of shock, I yanked my sleeves down and jerked my arms into my lap to hide them, itching furiously.
“What’s that. What’s all over your arms?” He shrieked in horror, looming above me where I huddled on the ground.
I thought fast. “It’s a skin condition. What, I’m not proud of it. It comes on when I’m scared or mad.” I lied.
He scowled at me. “Let me see it, I don’t believe you.” He threatened, taking a step forward.
I cringed away from him. “Stay away from me James Corwin, you hear? I’m not showing you anything you—you pervert! Leave me alone.”
He hesitated, incredulous. “What did you just say?”
I scrambled to my feet, keeping my sleeves pulled down. I started picking up the scattered herbs and shoving them back in the discarded basket, many of them trampled and wilting in the dirt.
“You heard me. What do I have to do to convince you to go away? You should pay attention to Olivia. She likes you.”
He snorted. “That pinch-faced cow? Have you taken a good look at her mother? Can you imagine what Olivia will look like in ten years? On the other hand if you look like your mother I’d be fine with that.”
I cast a surreptitious glance at the back of my hands. Just freckles, the scales had receded. I sighed in relief.
“Look James, I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just not into boys yet, okay?” I tried. Maybe if I reasoned with him...
James slanted me a sly look, ignoring anything he didn’t want to hear. “Wonder what my dad would say about you leading me on and that strange skin condition...”
“And I wonder what he would say if he knew you were stalking girls putting your hands on them uninvited.”
“I was fishing,” he started.
“Where’s the fishing pole James?”
His guilty expression said it all.
“Leave me alone and I won’t tell. We’ll just forget this ever happened. How does that sound?”
His mouth grew tight in a mutinous line. “Better watch yourself, Elspeth Walsh. People round here don’t cotton to those what think they’re better than everyone else.”
I watched him stalk off, back ramrod straight, a swagger he didn’t bother to hide to his step. Like you James?
I gripped the handles to my basket with white knuckles. The back of my hands itched and I scratched the stiff hairs there. A few of them had flattened into tiny brown scales once more. I didn’t trust him not to blab, not a bit.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I THINK WE SHOULD GO on a picnic. It’s a beautiful day and its finally stopped raining. It will be cooler by the river.” Olivia insisted.
I wasn’t so sure. My latest run in with James Corwin on the banks of the riverbank was still fresh in my mind. Still, it was beautiful out, just a dusting of light fluffy clouds to mute the bright impact of the sun, and a breeze that ruffled the fine hairs along the nape of my neck and lessened the heat of the day.
“Okay. I brought nothing though...” I added, feeling guilty. I left this morning for market with a picnic in mind after. “I do have some fresh Raspberries left. We could bring those?”
Olivia grinned. “We have leftover cold chicken in the icebox and potato salad. Mom made it last night.”
I grimaced inwardly. Isla Thompson’s skills didn’t extend to the kitchen. “Sounds great.” I lied. “I do have some of Mama’s mint tea left to bring with us.” I offered.
Together we packed the basket. I watched Olivia taking extra care with her hair, catching all the loose tendrils and neatening them beneath the small white cap she wore, and frowned.
Olivia gave me an innocent smile of encouragement as we took off. I didn’t miss the crafty glimmer in her brown eyes. I had a nasty feeling about this picnic.
We walked out of town along the river, keeping to the path and careful to avoid any snakes that might sun themselves on the bright day along the way. The Green River was swollen and high from recent rains; the water running fast and tumbling past several large rocks inhibiting its progress along the way.
I looked up ahead to the large leaf maple that sat on its bank, a carpet of soft grass making the perfect spot for us to set up. The shade extended over the river’s edge, creating a canopy of dapples shimmering through the trees and dancing over the river’s inky surface. Olivia nodded in approval and I spread the blanket wide for us to sit on.
I removed items from the basket, dividing them up and pouring us each a glass of cool tea. I handed one to Olivia and she smiled in appreciation as she took a drink. “Oh, now that’s fine. Thank you.” She murmured, a wide grin on her face that had nothing to do with the tea and much more to do with what was walking along the river bank in our direction, this time with an actual fishing pole and tackle in hand. Inwardly, I groaned.
James Corbin paused at the edge of our blanket, looking in my direction suspiciously. I scowled. Great, with his ego, he probably thought I’d planned the entire affair just to seek his company. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Olivia spoke up, a pink tinge to her cheeks that wasn’t the sun. “Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Corbin. Fishing I see?”
His eyes touched on me as he answered, speculation lighting them up. “It’s what I do whenever I can get away from working at the lumber mill with my uncle. Looks like you ladies are making good use of the warmth and lack of rain.” He paused, noting my forbidding expression. “I don’t want to keep you ladies, though that chicken looks mighty fine. I’ll just move on up the river for a spell and leave you to it.”
Olivia looked panicky all of a sudden. Before I could stop her she blurted. “Oh, well, we have plenty if you’d like to join. Elspeth’s Mama, Moira makes the best mint tea. Perfect on a scorching day.”
I felt my face heat in the shade as I ground my teeth. I opened my mouth to explain there wasn’t much left, but I was too late.
“Well, that’s the best invitation I’ve had all day.” He leaned his pole and tackle against the tree and stepped onto the blanket, muddy shoes and all, the offen
ding dollops of mud falling off as he sat down between us with a smile.
Olivia dished up and handed him a platter heaped with chicken and potato salad. “This looks wonderful.” He grabbed a leg and took a bite, his expression inscrutable as he chewed. And then chewed some more.”
“Terrific.” He mumbled.
I smiled, watching his face, and took a wing from the basket. It wasn’t wonderful at all—it was chewy and rubbery and tasteless. But I was hungry. Breakfast had been a long while ago.”
I ignored the way his eyes drifted over me when he thought Olivia wasn’t looking.
“So, you work at the lumber mill?” Olivia added, swiping daintily at her mouth with a napkin.
I blinked as I watched my friend try to draw his attention there as she plumped her lips into a fine pout. Her legs beneath her skirt were slightly bent and straight out in front. The bottom hem of her skirt had risen above her boots, and the faintest outline of her tan stockinged feet showed.
Despite himself, James’ eyes pulled to the exposed glimpse of leg. “I do. My father’s partner, John Hathorne, owns it and I work for him. Just part time, but the extra money is welcome. Do you help in the mercantile?” He asked, taking a long pull of cold tea, smacking his lips in appreciation.
Warming to the subject, Olivia smiled, fluttering her lashes shyly. “I do most days of the week. I stand to inherit the entire thing when Mama and Papa pass.”
James eyes sharpened at her words. “That will make you quite the catch someday, then won’t it.”
She giggled, the sound high and annoying, missing the way his eyes crossed at the sound. “Yes, but I’m going to need a husband to manage it. I’m afraid I’ just have no head for business,” she simpered.
Dragon's Wish Page 5
