Waiting on Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “Coming, ma’am.” Etta returned carrying a forest-green traveling suit. She placed the outfit carefully at the end of the bed, then went immediately to Caroline and helped rid her of the ivory gown.

  Elise slipped from the room, knowing that neither woman needed her nor cared for her company. Her sister’s attitude only stirred her anger. How could she be so cold? Didn’t Caroline have any feelings of love toward her family? Maybe money and prestige were all she loved now.

  An hour later, Elise waited in her uncle’s borrowed carriage outside of Joseph Brett’s apartment. Her father’s first mate lived in a modest part of town. Elise knew that despite Joe being a better-paid seaman who didn’t drink or gamble, he was still hard-pressed to keep his family fed and clothed, so the tiny duplex came as no surprise.

  Joe had a family of five children and a wife who had once been quite pretty. Since Mrs. Brett had been on her way out the door when they’d pulled up to the curb, Elise had decided to wait outside and let her father and Joe visit privately. The two women had exchanged hellos, but then Joe’s wife had to be on her way to retrieve her children from her sister’s house.

  Mrs. Brett had at least shared the news that Joe was doing better. The doctor had given him medication for his wound and strict orders for tending it. She was certain he’d be back on his feet soon.

  It was good to hear. Joe had been her father’s first mate for as long as Elise could remember. Papa relied on him heavily. It was hard enough to be without Mama on board, but losing Joe would be sheer misery. Her father would be relieved to hear the good news.

  While she waited in the carriage, Elise fidgeted with the bodice of her gown. At least it wasn’t as fancy as her wedding clothes, but it was just as snug. Probably much smaller than she usually wore, thanks to the tightly tied corset beneath it. She could scarcely draw breath, and given the day’s heat and humidity, she worried she might faint dead away. How ridiculous! Why did women put themselves through such torment? A well-fitted corset tied in a reasonable manner was a useful thing, but the practice of securing them as tightly as possible was absurd.

  There was some sort of commotion going on down the street, and Elise looked up just in time to see a freight wagon veering out of control. The horses pulling the wagon were driverless and headed straight for her. All she could do was brace herself for impact as her uncle’s driver struggled to get the carriage out of the way.

  “Miss. Miss, are you all right?”

  Elise slowly opened her eyes and gazed straight up into the worried expression of a very handsome man. His face was freshly shaved, and the cologne he’d used had a pleasant aroma.

  “What . . . what happened?” She was lying on her back, and her vision seemed blurred.

  The man smiled. “Your carriage was hit by a freighter. It threw you to the street. You have a few scrapes on your chin. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “I don’t know.” Elise put her gloved hand to her chin.

  “Are you able to sit?”

  She tried with his help, but pain cut through her back. “Oh, I don’t think so.” She was grateful when he lowered her back to the ground.

  “My father . . . he’s in number twelve-twenty-three.” How had she remembered the address? “He’s visiting Joseph Brett.”

  “I know Joe,” another man said. “I’ll fetch her father.”

  The man who’d tried to help her sit up glanced around. “I think I’d best lift you rather than leave you lying here in the street.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” With a jolt of fear, she asked, “How’s the driver?”

  “He jumped free at the last minute. He’s just fine and busy trying to calm the horses.”

  The stranger put one arm behind her back and another under her legs. He was so very gentle.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Nicodemus Clark, but most call me Nick.”

  “Nick. Thank you again.”

  He frowned. “You might want to wait to thank me. This will probably hurt.”

  “I know.” She drew a deep breath. “Go ahead.” She gritted her teeth, determined not to cry out.

  “Elise!” Her father appeared. “Bring her in the house. I’m sure Joe won’t mind.” He instructed Nick where to go and turned back to Elise. “They said a freight wagon hit you. How do you feel, darlin’?”

  “Confused, dizzy, and in pain.” She smiled. “How are you?”

  Her father chuckled. “Much the same without the aid of a freight wagon.”

  Nick carried her into the house and placed her on the empty kitchen table. The pain wasn’t quite as bad as before.

  “I’m a doctor,” a man said, pushing past several of the bystanders who’d followed them inside. “If you aren’t related to this young woman or live here, then I want you to leave.” Several people filed outside.

  Elise’s father grabbed her hand. The look on his face nearly broke her heart. He looked at the doctor. “Can you tell if her back is broken?”

  “My back isn’t broken,” Elise assured him. “It hurts, but look—I can move my legs and arms, and with a little help I can sit up.” She looked to the right and found the same man who had helped her earlier. “Would you lend me a hand?”

  “It’s best you don’t stress your body at this time, miss,” the doctor declared. “I’ve already sent a man to bring ’round the ambulance.”

  “That was hardly necessary.” Elise knew her protest fell on deaf ears.

  “The carriage was totally demolished, Elise,” her father added. “We’ll need some form of transport for you. The young man who helped you has no wagon either. We can’t very well expect him to carry you home.”

  Elise tried to swallow her embarrassment. She shrugged, and it hurt from the base of her neck down the back of her legs. She didn’t so much as grimace, however. Papa was already worried, and she didn’t want to give him something else to worry about.

  The doctor forced a large spoonful of medicine into her mouth. “Take this. It will help with the pain.”

  She swallowed the bitter medicine and couldn’t hide her displeasure. “I don’t know what that was, but I believe the pain was less difficult to bear. That tastes terrible.”

  Her father laughed. “Good medicine often tastes bad.”

  “It will make the ambulance ride more bearable,” the doctor said.

  She felt a wave of dizziness. “Well, I’ve never ridden in an ambulance. I suppose there are first times for everything.” She forced a smile and looked at the man who’d helped her. “What did you say your name was?” The medicine was making her sleepy.

  “Nick.”

  She fought to keep her focus. “Yes. Nicodemus. Such a wonderful name.” She closed her eyes. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “I would say it was my pleasure, but I’m not sure that’s exactly the right word.”

  She smiled. “Nor would I. But I appreciate no longer lying in the middle of the road.”

  “The ambulance is here,” someone called from the open door.

  Elise wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious in the street, but now she felt like falling asleep for a good long time. Two men with a stretcher appeared. They spoke to the doctor, then maneuvered the stretcher beneath her without any apparent concern for her comfort and lifted her from the table. She couldn’t help but moan.

  Her father gave them Uncle James’s address, then followed them. She had no chance to bid good-bye to the man who’d rescued her. And he’d been so nice.

  After her aunt’s personal maid undressed her and cleaned her up, Elise was again examined by the doctor as she faded in and out of sleep. Finally she heard the doctor tell her aunt to bring in her father.

  “I do not see nor feel anything that indicates her back is broken, but I believe she should remain bedfast for at least two weeks. I will come tomorrow and check on her. There’s a great deal of swelling, no doubt. After fourteen days, we can expect the swelling to go down, and then we can reassess
the situation.”

  “But we planned to leave tomorrow,” she murmured, looking at her father.

  “Well, you clearly cannot go.” Papa’s voice was firm, and even in her stupor, Elise knew there would be no arguing with him.

  “She will remain with us,” Uncle James said from the open bedroom doorway.

  “But Papa needs me to cook on the Mary Elise.” She tried her best to ignore the pain.

  “We’ll get by, girl. We can take turns cooking for ourselves. I’ll lay in more cheese, fruit, and bread,” her father declared. “I’m just happy to know you aren’t permanently injured. Or worse yet. You could have been killed.”

  “Indeed,” her aunt said, shaking her head.

  Elise knew by the expressions on everyone’s faces that she wasn’t going anywhere. She tried to sit up, but the pain was too much, and she fell back. Maybe they were right.

  Chapter 2

  That evening, Nick Clark made his way down a stately avenue to the estate of James Monroe. He carried all his worldly belongings on his back in a large canvas duffel bag. This way, if he managed to find a job on a ship, he would have no reason to delay the captain. It hadn’t always been this way. Years ago, he’d lived with his family in a place not so different from the Monroes’ grand house.

  Standing in front of the three-story brick mansion, Nick could only imagine that the wealth of these people came close to that of his father’s—and maybe exceeded it. The gown worn by the young woman he’d helped was worth more than he would make in a year working as a ship’s mate.

  He chuckled. Who would expect a twenty-eight-year-old seaman to know about expensive women’s fashions? But he had two sisters, and such things had always been enormously important to them. How could he not know?

  The groomed walkway bid him forward. There were trimmed shrubs on either side for about ten feet, and then the yard opened up. Groundsmen were working on the far side of the front yard. One man was on his hands and knees, trimming the area beneath the flowering bushes. Everything was lovely and perfect.

  Nick made his way to the door and knocked. It seemed to take quite a while, but an older woman wearing a mobcap appeared with a frown. She looked him up and down to determine whether he was worth her time, then started to close the door.

  “We aren’t looking to hire,” she said. “Don’t need any knives sharpened nor chimneys cleaned. Good day.”

  “I’m here to see Miss Wright. Or her father,” he added, knowing it was hardly appropriate for him to visit a young woman of such high society.

  The woman stared at him for what seemed an eternity before relenting. “Mr. Wright is in the parlor. Please come in.” She stepped back and let Nick enter, but she wore a definite look of disapproval. “I’ll tell Mr. Wright that you’ve come.” She paused a moment. “I don’t suppose you have a card?”

  “No. Just tell him Nicodemus Clark would like a word.”

  Her frown deepened. “Very well. Wait here.”

  Nick nodded and lowered his duffel to the black-and-white tiled floor. He gazed around the circular entryway. There were mirrors hanging at every angle. They were in matching gold frames and nearly as long as he was tall. In the center of the room stood a round table bearing a huge bouquet of mixed flowers. Large white blooms the size of a man’s fist were trimmed out with pale pink roses and something delicate and lacy looking in a darker shade of pink.

  There was a very grand staircase—Brazilian cherry, if he wasn’t mistaken. It rose from a singular point, then split off to the left and right, while arched entryways led out of the foyer to halls on either side of the stairs. It was from the left side that Mr. Wright appeared.

  “Nick, good to see you.” Mr. Wright strode into the foyer. He wore a casual suit with a white shirt and tie. He looked just as uncomfortable as he had earlier that day. “What can I do for you?”

  Nick laughed. “You could give me a job. God knows I need one. But I actually came to check on your daughter. Was she very badly hurt?”

  “No. The doc believes she’s just strained her back. She had a slight concussion from hitting the back of her head, but he wasn’t overly concerned. So thanks be to God, nothing is broken.”

  “Indeed. I’m glad to hear it. Well, I won’t keep you.”

  “Wait, now. You mentioned being in need of a job. What can you do?”

  “Well, I was told you are a ship’s captain. I’ve ten years’ experience on the water.” Nick grinned.

  “I’m in need of a first mate on the schooner Mary Elise. It’s temporary. My man is down with an injured leg.”

  “I’m more than qualified. As I said, I’ve been sailing for over ten years—ocean and the lakes. I worked my way up on commercial schooners and served as first mate on two different ships.”

  The older man rubbed his bearded chin. “I’m impressed.”

  “I’d be grateful for any position, even one that’s only temporary.”

  “And I’d be grateful to take you on.” He extended his hand to Nick. They shook.

  “When do we sail?”

  “Tomorrow at dawn.”

  “Thank you, Mr.—uh, Captain Wright.”

  “Most of the men just call me Captain. I’ve had my crew for years.”

  Nick could imagine the difficulty of being a new man on a loyal crew, even if it was only a temporary position. “You mentioned the schooner is called the Mary Elise.”

  “Yes, she’s named for my wife and her mother. My daughter too. The young lady you rescued yesterday.”

  “Yes, I heard her name mentioned. A very pretty name.” Nick didn’t want to overstay his welcome. “Well, thank you again for your time. I’ll be on the Mary Elise before dawn.”

  “Why don’t you head over today? You can talk to Sam Matthews. He’s my second mate. Tell him I’ve hired you on to fill in for Joe. He’ll give you a tour and acquaint you with our operation and show you where you’ll sleep. I don’t have a regular cabin for my first mate, but there is space set aside from the men in the forecastle. I hope that will work for you. And before you go, why don’t you come upstairs with me to see Elise? I was just heading up. You can see for yourself that she’s just fine.”

  Nick nodded. “Of course.” He left his duffel beside the table and followed the older man up the stairs and to the right.

  “Knock, knock,” Captain Wright called when they reached the open door. “I’ve brought you a visitor.”

  “Come in, Papa.” Elise sat propped up on several lace-trimmed pillows. “Who have you brought?”

  “Your rescuer, Mr. Nicodemus Clark.”

  Nick popped his head around the doorjamb. “I just came to check on you. Your father thought I should see you for myself.”

  She smiled, and it warmed him from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. “Hello, Mr. Clark.”

  “Please call me Nick. Everyone does.”

  “Very well. Nick it is. Thank you again for what you did for me. I still shiver at the idea of lying unconscious in the street with terrified horses threatening to bolt and run over me.”

  “I’ve just hired Nick to fill in for Joe,” her father said. “He has a lot of experience.”

  She nodded at him. “Welcome to our family—at least temporarily.”

  “Thank you.” Nick found her smile infectious. “How are you feeling?”

  “My back hurts, but my head is clear. I disagree with the doctor wanting to keep me on bedrest for two weeks, and I hate that nasty medicine.”

  “But we are going to follow his orders,” her father interjected. “Your Uncle James and Aunt Martha will take good care of you.”

  Nick wasn’t sure how this family was related. Captain Wright was a ship’s captain—a laboring man who obviously worked hard, from the look of him. Then there was James Monroe, one of the wealthiest men in Oswego. He must have been Elise’s mother’s brother, since his last name wasn’t Wright. He supposed there’d be time later to sort it out.

  “I know they’ll tak
e care of me, but who will take care of you?” Elise asked.

  Captain Wright laughed, and it was so genuinely full of joy that it made Nick smile as well. He looked at Elise, who folded her arms across the ruffles of her white robe.

  “I suppose you’re on his side,” she said.

  Nick shrugged. “He’s the man who just hired me. Don’t you think I should be?”

  She pushed back her long black hair, and Nick found himself wishing he might do the same. Her hair was a thing of beauty. It was long and straight and dressed only with a simple ribbon tied in a bow atop her head.

  He glanced into her eyes. He couldn’t forget their deep blue color. She was watching him and looked curious, as if she had unspoken questions.

  “I suppose you must be loyal to him,” she finally replied. “I still think the doctor is daft for making me rest. I’ll be fine in another day or so.”

  “Two weeks will pass before you know it, darlin’ girl,” Captain Wright said. “You take a rest here, and we’ll leave at first light. Then soon enough I’ll be here for you, and you’ll be back in the galley, cooking up a storm.”

  “She cooks for the Mary Elise?” Nick asked, surprised. He had assumed she lived here with her uncle.

  “She does, and we’re known for having the best meals on the lakes. But for the next ten days, we’ll have to make do cooking for ourselves. I’ve laid in extra bread and cheese. It’s always good for a quick breakfast or lunch.”

  “It’s hardly enough to give you the energy you’ll need for the work you do,” Elise countered. She shook her head. “You’ll all starve.”

  Her father again roared in laughter and rubbed his muscular midsection. “I’m sure that won’t be happenin’ anytime soon. Now, you get your rest. I’ll be back to see you later.” He leaned over and kissed her head. “I love you, my darlin’ girl.”

  “I love you too, Papa. Oh, and Mister . . . Nick, it was very nice to meet you under less painful circumstances.”

  “You too.” Nick followed Captain Wright back downstairs. He picked up his duffel and headed for the door. “I’ll head on over to the Mary Elise.”