by Isabel Morin
“Oh, Mr. Fletcher, I’m so sorry. How awful.”
“It was quite some time ago,” he said, and she could see that he didn’t want to speak of it further. And no wonder. What could be worse than losing one’s wife and child? Her heart ached for him, but she knew instinctively he wouldn’t want her pity.
“And was it then that you moved out west?” she asked. She hoped this was a less sensitive topic and was pleased to see the tension leave him.
“Yes, six years ago now. I suppose I just needed to be somewhere else.”
Roes said nothing for a moment. It was so like what her father had done when her mother had died. He must have loved his wife as her father had loved his.
“Will you stay here, now that you’re back?” she asked.
Luke frowned thoughtfully and then looked over at her.
“You do get right to the point, don’t you?” he said wryly, causing her to blush. “I’ll stay at least until we get the railroad over those hills, but it was never my intention to stay beyond that. Most likely I’ll get restless and want to be moving on again.”
Rose tried and failed to imagine living the kind of life he described. Though she wanted very much to see new things, what he described sounded lonely rather than adventurous.
“It must be strange to start over again and again. I would miss my friends and family terribly.”
“You get used to it. I don’t depend on anyone for anything, and that suits me fine.”
“But didn’t you miss having people you could count on, and who counted on you?”
Luke scowled and she could see she’d made him uncomfortable.
“I didn’t want to know anyone, and I didn’t want anyone knowing me,” he replied brusquely. “All I wanted was to be left alone.” He stopped speaking for a moment and when he continued he sounded more thoughtful than agitated. “Lately I have wondered what it would be like to stay in one place long enough for it to matter. I suppose that’s why I finally came back.”
“And what do you think so far?” she asked.
“It has its attractions,” he said, looking sideways at her as he steered the carriage to their usual spot near the stone wall.
Rose felt herself flush and dared not look at him until he’d handed her down, this time pressing a kiss to her hand before he bid her goodbye.
Rose had now searched Jonas Fletcher’s desks at home and in his office. She could think of nothing else to do now but listen carefully and ask questions without inviting suspicion. Though she felt she had gleaned very little in her time at the house so far, she was more certain than ever that Mr. Byrne, and perhaps others, were responsible for her father’s death.
Chills ran through her remembering that map on the office wall, the black line broken off at her family's farm. Something about that had shaken her. It felt as though everything she held near and dear was threatened, its fate decided in that plush room, far from the lives in question.
Until she knew more, all she could do was conduct herself as any maid would and draw as little attention to herself as possible. However, that became more and more difficult as Mr. Byrne came around more often. He was at the house nearly every day and without fail managed to find her. Often he stood watching her intently, paying her compliments that made her skin crawl. Ever since her ride in his carriage she had regarded him warily. Now her nervousness grew.
Late one afternoon she was laying the table for a large dinner party, her thoughts far away as she set the china and silver along the table. She was brought out of her reverie by the smell of spirits. Looking up, she saw Mr. Byrne leaning against the doorjamb, his waistcoat partially unbuttoned, his cravat askew. She flinched as his bloodshot eyes raked over her.
“Ah, so we meet again. Fate seems to throw us together, Rose.”
“I would call it supper,” Rose replied, unable to suppress her distaste.
Byrne entered the room to stand beside her. His proximity made her stomach roil and her nose wrinkled at the stench of liquor, but she continued her task, refusing to give him any sort of reaction, for that was what he seemed to crave.
“You’ll turn your back on me but you’ll accept rides from my stepbrother?”
Rose gasped and looked at him. What had he seen, and when?
“That’s got your attention, hasn’t it?” he said, moving even closer.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but Mr. Fletcher did nothing but give me a ride home from town.”
“That’s not how it looked to me. You were riding beside him in a rented buggy. That speaks of more than coincidence, my dear. My esteemed stepbrother is going to great lengths on your behalf, leading me to wonder what favors he’s receiving in return.”
“Your imagination is getting the best of you. Mr. Fletcher passed me on the road and politely offered to take me the rest of the way here. I couldn’t say whose benefit the carriage was for, but it wasn’t mine.”
“Either way, my mother will be most displeased to hear of it. I hate to think what she’ll do.”
“You can’t mean you’re going to tell her?”
“Indeed I do. Of course, I could be persuaded to keep silent were you to show me the same generosity you show Luke.”
He was blackmailing her, his face glowing with pleasure as he watched her with predatory eyes, no doubt sure he’d trapped her. He drew even closer, so near now that were someone to see them, there would be questions.
Rose stepped away, bumping up against the table behind her in her haste. “You have no proof, and it won’t be my word against yours, it will be yours against Mr. Fletcher’s. Do you think he’ll stand by while you make your accusations?”
Mr. Byrne’s mouth tightened, his nostrils flaring as he glared at her in fury. With great effort he reconfigured his features until they were fixed in a grim approximation of a smile.
“Of course I was merely jesting. There’s no need to look at me so. But do watch yourself,” he said, straitening his cravat with feigned nonchalance. “Mrs. Fletcher has no tolerance for antics such as yours. Of that you can be certain.”
As soon as he left the room Rose sagged against the table, trembling with reaction. She had managed to outwit him this time, but it wouldn’t be the last time she had to contend with him.
“Are you saying Nathan threatened you?” Luke asked, his expression ferocious.
They were standing beside the carriage outside Vivian’s home the very next Monday, as Rose had refused to get in.
Rose nodded. “He’s seen us. I don’t think he’ll tell Mrs. Fletcher, at least not yet, but I would put nothing past him. In any case, you can see why our drives must end. I can’t risk losing my place.”
Luke looked as if he wanted to tear something apart. Abruptly he turned and walked away, turning around after a few paces and walking back to wear she stood. His cheeks were flushed and he was scowling with such ferocity, the passersby regarded him warily.
“I’ll be damned if I let Nathan threaten us out of something perfectly innocent. I see no reason why I can’t continue to drive you, so long as we’re more careful. We’ll simply keep the top up so no one can see us. I’ll let you out farther away from Cider Hill, as well.”
Rose looked at him. “Why do you and your father put up with Mr. Byrne? It seems to me he must be detrimental to your work.”
Luke sighed and rubbed his face in a weary gesture. “Because he’s family, and we don’t turn our back on family. No matter what.”
A chill coursed down Rose’s spine at this, for if this were true, might they not all close ranks around Mr. Byrne to protect him? She would need to be absolutely certain of his guilt, and have proof of it as well, before accusing him.
Of course, at the moment she was more worried about what Byrne might accuse her of, and whether riding with Luke was worth the risk. Her mind raced as she considered Luke’s suggestion. The safest thing to do would be to end their drives. Then again, how would anyone know it was them if they kept the top up?
“Very well,” she agreed. “Let us do as before, only more cautiously.”
Luke looked relieved. “I’ll speak to Nathan and ensure he stays away from you.”
“Please don’t. He hasn’t done anything yet, and your interference will only make him more certain that we’ve been too familiar.”
Luke stood with his hands on his hips, looking as if he would argue. Then he sighed. “As you wish. But promise me you’ll let me know if anything else happens.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
He regarded her with an aggrieved expression, then shook his head, as if giving up. Without another word he moved back to the buggy and began raising the top. Rose waited, anxious that they might be seen, though they were on a small street down which no one from Cider Hill could possibly need to travel.
A few minutes later Luke turned back to her, his hand outstretched. “Shall we?”
They both settled into the buggy, the raised top enclosing them together in a whole new intimacy. He was so close, mere inches from her, and it was many minutes before her breath evened out and she could look at him again.
Chapter Six
Each week Rose felt closer to Luke, but when at Cider Hill they acted as strangers to each other. Luke nodded and greeted her when they met in a hallway or room, and if she were serving him at mealtimes, he thanked her but paid her no more mind then he did the other girls. It was a strange, divided existence, and yet another deception she had to negotiate.
Her situation at Cider Hill took yet another turn as she was cleaning Luke’s bedchamber one morning not long after Mr. Byrne threatened her.
“Rose?”
Rose started at the unexpected sound of Luke’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of his bedchamber, looking at her with surprise and dismay. She stood up straight, letting go of the counterpane she’d been straightening.
“You startled me,” she said, laughing to ease the tension.
He was frowning at her now, his gaze sweeping the room and taking in the fresh flowers in the vase, the clean towel and full water pitcher on its stand. Then he looked at her.
“Am I to understand that you come in here every morning and clean up after me?”
“Well, yes, but you needn’t look so horrified. I tidy all the bedchambers.”
Luke let out a groan and closed his eyes. Opening them again he came into the room until they were standing a mere two feet apart.
“This is untenable,” he said, his voice pitched so that no one else might here. “I cannot abide you having to clean my chamber. If I’d had any idea …”
“You mustn’t make too much of it. It takes but a few minutes.”
“That isn’t the point, Rose.” He was whispering now. “There must be another way. Perhaps one of the other girls could take your place.”
Rose looked at him, horrified. “That’s impossible. Suggesting such a thing will only make everyone suspect us.”
Jut then a frigid voice spoke from behind Luke.
“What exactly is going on here?”
Luke and Rose turned as one to see Mrs. Fletcher looking at them, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Fortunately Luke spoke up, as Rose’s mind had ceased to work properly.
“I’ve lost the key to the offices. I thought perhaps I might have left it here, but it seems not.”
Mrs. Fletcher was unconvinced. “Is that so? There was a good deal of whispering for something so mundane.”
Luke’s expression hardened as he faced her. “Yes, it’s so.”
Rose tried to quell the panic rising in her at the silent battle being waged between them.
Finally his stepmother broke eye contact, her mouth tightening in displeasure. “Very well. I’ll mention your lost key to Mrs. Craig. Now why don’t we leave Rose to finish in here? She’s already taken far longer than she should.”
Mrs. Fletcher stood where she was, waiting for Luke to precede her out. Rose turned away to finish making the bed, fearful something of her inner panic would show on her face. When she looked up again, they were gone.
***
Luke stood next to his father, the two of them studying the map on the wall and shaking their heads over the incomplete rail line.
“We'll have to decide soon. It’s costing us money just to wait,” Jonas stated matter-of-factly.
“We should never have built so far west without having that farmer sign the papers,” replied Luke, unable to hide his frustration.
“Yes, yes, that's clear enough now. But I thought that was well in hand. Nathan told me as much.”
“Nathan’s a fool. He wants so badly to prove himself, he'll do or say anything. Anything, that is, except get to work on time and put in an honest day.”
Jonas sighed. It was a discussion they'd had many times.
Luke pressed his point.
“Frankly, I fear his character is not all it should be. For several months now I’ve been hearing disconcerting news. I’m told he gambles, seemingly without control or sense. He incurs debts and takes too long to pay them off, an unpopular character trait to say the least, particularly for the crowd he associates with.”
Jonas sighed and sat down, looking weary. “I hadn’t realized it was so bad. I’d hoped he would build his character and reputation through the business. Charlotte thinks Nathan merely needs someone to guide him, though he’s a bit old for such hopes. She sees him with a mother’s eyes, I suppose. Be that as it may, I cannot give up on him just yet. We must both try to work with him, give him a chance to come through. He may surprise us yet.”
Nathan had received little in the way of an inheritance when his own father died, and that had been frittered away long ago. He now relied exclusively on the salary Jonas paid him, whereas Luke had made his own living for years and also held substantial stock in the railroad. Nathan thus had every reason to put forth his best effort, and his failure to do so clearly troubled Jonas. But instead of looking to the source of the trouble, both Nathan and Charlotte resented Luke’s return and the shadow he cast over Nathan.
“I hope you’re right, but I fear you’re too optimistic. He seems to be getting worse, rather than better. I've run into him a time or two in town and he's always in his cups. Not to mention the fact that he's late again today.”
“Never fear, dear brother, here I am.”
Nathan entered the room with a swagger and sat down heavily in the chair beside Jonas. It was not yet ten o’clock and already he smelled of spirits, his face an unhealthy pallor. Luke's jaw clenched as he took in Nathan’s state of dress and bleary eyes. He looked as if he'd been up all night, and he smelled it too. The fact that this sad excuse for a man had a stake in their company infuriated him.
“It was good of you to show up,” Luke shot back, immediately regretting his lack of control.
“I hate to disappoint you, but I have things well in hand.”
“Is that right? By all means then, do show us where we are to lay track,” he said, gesturing to the map on the wall.
At this, Nathan’s skin paled and his eyes darted to the map and back again.
“Actually, I believe we've received a break on that score. Mrs. Harris’s brother has been killed in some sort of an accident. I daresay we'll have no trouble buying the land now.”
“I see.” Jonas replied. “When was this?”
“Five months ago, I believe. But I only just found out.”
Nathan’s manner was curious and Luke watched as he shifted in his chair, his eyes not quite meeting theirs. If what Nathan said were true, things might turn around. Still, he had no desire to circle the women left behind like scavengers at a kill.
“Well done, Nathan. It's a smart man that keeps his ears open,” Jonas said, his tone warm with approval. “We’ll approach Mrs. Harris and make another offer, a little more generous than our last. That should suit her well if she ha
s any notion of selling.”
“Of course, it only makes sense to make one more offer,” Luke put in. “But I think we ought to leave it at that. We've spent enough time badgering a family that has no interest in selling. Until we know, we should continue looking into other routes.”
Nathan glared at Luke with true malice.
“Agreed,” Jonas said. “Luke, I’d like you to ride out to the Harris farm and see what you can do. If Olivia Harris doesn’t accept, we'll lay track to the north and get on with the business of building a railroad. Either way there will be more mapping and surveying to do. Nathan, once Luke returns you can ride to Albany and reassure interested parties there.”
Luke expected Nathan to argue that he ought to be the one to go to the Harris farm, but in fact he looked relieved not to be chosen.
The three men discussed other business for a few minutes more before the clerk knocked on the door and poked his head in.
“Sir? Mr. Miller is here to see you about the coal.”
“Oh yes, I'll be right with him. We're nearly done in here.” Turning to Nathan, Jonas fixed him with a steady look. “I’ll expect you to arrive promptly to work in the morning. We have a lot to accomplish if we want to get back on schedule.”
Luke didn’t linger after his father left. Without a word to Nathan he headed down the hall toward his own office, only to have Nathan catch up to him before he reached his door.
“I know very well what you’ve been up to with Rose,” Nathan said, walking quickly to keep up with Luke’s longer strides. “I can’t fault your taste. We've had ourselves some nice little talks lately. In fact, I think she's grown rather fond of me. I know I'm quite fond of her,” he finished, smirking at Luke in deliberate provocation.
Luke fumed. Nathan was like a spoiled child trying to pick a fight because things hadn't gone his way. Still, there was something threatening about his remarks. Was Nathan all talk, or would his fixation on her lead to more trouble? He’d assumed Nathan hadn’t bothered Rose recently, but would she have told him if he had? It didn’t sit well with him that he’d be away for several weeks and Rose would be left without anyone to protect her.
