by Jane Peart
Holly knew she had to control her fury for the children's sake. She managed a reassuring smile for Aurelia, then said in a tight voice, "No, thank you, I'm not hungry. I think I'll go for a walk. I need some fresh air." That was all she allowed herself to say to indicate her reaction to Hetty.
Back in the bedroom, Holly put on her bonnet, carefully anchoring it with two long hatpins, trying to calm herself. Her hands were actually shaking.
"If it were possible, I'd take the first stagecoach out of here!" she declared to her reflection. But where could she go? She was trapped. "I must get hold of myself. I must not lose my temper. Whatever happens I won't let her break me." Maybe she could walk off her seething anger. Whatever, Holly was determined not to stoop to Hetty's level.
Returning to the kitchen, she halted at the door and, in the most even tone she could muster, asked Hetty if she needed her to stop at the store for anything.
Still at the stove, her back to Holly, Hetty merely shook her head. But as Holly turned the doorknob and started out, Hetty's voice followed her, warning, "Don't bother Ned at the store, Holly. He's got customers to look out for; he don't have time to waste gabbing."
"I had no intention of doing that, Hetty," Holly could not resist calling back. It was all she could do not to slam the door after her.
She went down the porch steps and out of the yard, so angry she had no idea in what direction she headed.
Chapter 4
Holly's heart was beating like a metronome; her pulses raced. She was angrier than she could ever remember being. She walked so fast that before long she was quite warm and breathless.
Without realizing it, she took the path off the road onto the trail leading down to the river. She had come quite a way before she calmed down enough to notice what a beautiful day it was. Under the ponderosa pines and the red-barked manzanita, clusters of wildflowers sprinkled with early morning frost, glistened like gems in the sunlight streaming down between the trees. Through the heavy brush she caught a glimpse of the sparkling water below.
She found a sun-warmed rock to sit upon. This close to the river, the sound of water rushing over the rocks was loud but in a way rhythmically soothing. A few leaves from the aspens and birch trees on the bank had fallen and drifted onto the shining surface. She watched them dancing and drifting with the rippling flow.
As the silence of the woods settled around her like a peaceful cloak, from high up in one tree came the fluting sound of a bird. But the peace of it all—instead of soothing her—only seemed to accentuate her sense of isolation and loneliness. Eventually, she began to think about the dilemma of her situation. Her walks had become a palliative but no solution. Yes, the woods were beautiful and the weather lovely and these walks did help, but what was she to do when the legendary Oregon winter rains began? What would she do then to escape? Her every attempt with Hetty met with resistance. She was at the end of her rope.
It wasn't only the problem with her cousin, it was everything else! Losing Jim had been a dreadful blow. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. Life had always been so easy and pleasant for her that she had never dreamed it wouldn't go on being that way forever. It was even more painful to know she had brought the whole terrible thing on herself!
Holly had never been introspective, never explored her feelings nor thought much about her life; she had been too busy living it. Rarely had she thought beyond the next dance or party, what she should wear, or which invitation to accept. Life in Willow Springs, in the large white clapboard house with its deep porch and green shutters had been, in retrospect, serene and blissful!
Before Jim's "betrayal" nothing really bad had ever happened to her. It had left her dazed and bewildered. In that state, she had let others make up her mind for her, suggest to her what was the "best thing" for her to do. Now she realized the "best" thing may not have been the "right" thing for her to do at all!
Suddenly Holly felt very young and sad and childishly like crying. She put her head in her hands and let the pent-up tears come. After awhile, she lifted her head and sniffled. What good would crying do? She couldn't sit here moping all day. She wasn't ready yet to go back to the house. She still had things to sort out, to think about. She was now hungry and could have used a cup of coffee and something to eat.
She would go by the store, which she had not had a chance to see yet, being careful not to "bother Ned" as Hetty had cautioned her. Perhaps she could amuse herself looking around.
Wiping her eyes, she dug into her reticule for a hanky to blow her nose. As she drew out one of the fine lawn, lace-edged ones that her great-aunt Ancilla had made and given her at Christmas, a small, rectangular, printed paper fell from it onto the ground. Curious, Holly picked it up. As soon as she saw what it was, she started to smile. Of all things! she thought. Great-Aunt Ancilla up to her usual "tricks." A tract!
Her mother's aunt was known in the family as "the Evangelist." Passing along tracts was the dear old soul's "ministry," as she told everyone. She was forever giving them out to family, friends, and perfect strangers. She slipped them into books, put them under dinner plates, folded them into freshly ironed laundry, tucked them under bed pillows.
Even as the tears dried on her cheeks, Holly laughed. She had been asking for help with her problem, and here like a message from home came one of her fey little auntie's tracts.
Great-Aunt Ancilla held staunchly to the belief that no matter what your problem, whenever you need guidance of any kind, go to the Word. To her mind, the Bible had all the answers. Well, if ever Holly needed guidance it was now. She read the bold line of type at the top of the little booklet: "WHATSOEVER YOUR HAND FINDS TO DO, DO IT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT" ECC. 9:10. On down the page there were further exhortations to be cheerful, patient whatever your path in life happened to be, to trust in God and He would make "straight your path."
Oh, if I could only believe that is true, Holly sighed, and her shoulders drooped a little. But as she continued reading, oddly enough, some of the anger, some of the lostness she had felt began to fade. There was "comfort in the Word" as Great-Auntie Ancilla declared so positively.
The wind off the river had risen, and the sun shifted and moved up behind the towering trees. Involuntarily Holly shivered and, feeling chilly, got to her feet and started walking down toward the edge of the river where it was warmer. But as she did, a stone caught in the tiny heel of one of her dainty boots causing her to twist her ankle. As she did, the heel broke off.
Drat it! Holly picked up the narrow little heel and held it in the palm of her hand frowning. The fragile nails were bent and loose. She could not possibly reattach it. It would have to be fixed by a shoemaker—if there were such a thing in Riverbend!
Stepping on the toe of one foot, she hobbled awkwardly back toward the road and turned in the direction of Hetty's. In her anger after leaving the house, she had walked very fast and come much farther than she realized. Now, thus handicapped, she would have to retrace her steps. This is a fine kettle of fish! she complained glumly to herself as she limped along.
She had to stop to rest every few minutes, and her lopsided gait made her very tired. Holly wasn't sure how long she had hobbled, although it seemed like forever when she heard the clopping sound of horses' hooves approaching. She halted and turned to see a small, black-hooded buggy rounding the curve of the road. As it came nearer, it slowed then pulled alongside her. With a mixture of embarrassment and relief she saw that it was Riverbend's doctor, Blaine Stevens.
"Miss Lambeth!" he tipped his hat and leaned toward her. "You're limping! Have you injured yourself?"
"Well, no, not exactly—I've—" She held out her hand, opening the palm and showed him the dainty broken heel.
"Well, thank goodness, it's nothing serious. You don't need a doctor; you need a ride, right?" He smiled and in a flash jumped down and helped her into the buggy.
"Would you like me to take you back to the Thorntons' or to town, where you can get your shoe fixed?"
"Right! And it's not any trouble at all. Luckily, I'm on my way from a house call, not on my way to one." He looked over at her and smiled.
Once settled in, Holly glanced over at the doctor. "I can't thank you enough for rescuing me! I don't know how much longer I'd have lasted, hobbling like that."
"That's my role in life!" he laughed. "Rescuing people."
"Lucky for me!" she joined in his laughter. At close range, Dr. Stevens did not appear as young as she had thought at their first meeting. Of course, that had been in the evening, when it was fast growing dark. Now she guessed him to be in his early thirties. His was a face that was both young and old, the skin of his cheeks was taut and tan, his eyes remarkably clear and blue, but there were fine lines around them. There were deeper lines around his mouth, etched there, perhaps, by the suffering and pain he had witnessed in his profession. It was a face that Holly instinctively felt that one could trust.
As he looked over at her, smiling, his eyes held both laughter and interest. "So, other than today's mishap, I hope you've been enjoying your stay in Riverbend. I'm sure you and Hetty have had lots of things to catch up on—I know how most folks enjoy hearing about things back home. It must be even better to have a visitor."
Holly was at a loss as to how to reply. Blaine's natural assumption about her and her cousin was one that anyone would make. But nothing could be further from the truth. He was looking at her expectantly, so she hedged her answer carefully. "Well, of course, it's been six years since I've seen Hetty or Ned, and—to be honest, we never were very close. I mean our lives were—are quite different. I mean, she's busy with her home and children and I—"
Holly halted. Why on earth was she rattling on like this, and to a perfect stranger? She felt her cheeks get hot.
"Of course. I understand. Life in the East is much different— takes some adjustments and getting used to the West isn't all that easy, either—" Blaine stopped, then tactfully switched the subject, saying, "Here we are, and I'll take you right by Hedrick's, the shoesmith; he'll have your heel back on in a jiffy."
"Thank you, Dr. Stevens, you've been very kind."
Blaine drew up in front of a small storefront, secured the buggy brake, and got out. He came around the other side and helped Holly down.
"I'd be happy to wait for you, then drive you home, Miss Lambeth."
"Oh, that won't be necessary, but thank you," Holly said. "I'm very grateful you came along when you did."
"It's no trouble at all. I'd be delighted, in fact. I have a house call to make out in the direction of the Thorntons' and can drop you off there on my way."
Holly hesitated, then seeing no reason to refuse the offer, smiled and said, "Very well, thank you."
Blaine spun the hat he held in his hand for a second before saying shyly, "I'd suggest you ask Jake about some sturdier boots if you're going to do much more walking, Miss Lambeth." He smiled shyly. "There's some awfully pretty country around here, but some of it's kind of rugged."
"As I have just found out!" Holly laughed. "Thank you for the advice. I'll do that."
When the heel was replaced, Blaine was waiting outside. He helped her back into his buggy for the short distance back to the Thorntons' house.
Blaine assisted her from the buggy and escorted her to the gate. Before opening it for her, he said, "There's some very nice country around Riverbend, not all within walking distance. If you'd like, Miss Lambeth, I'd like to show you some of it. Maybe some Sunday? After church? That's my day off—well, at least— I cannot always be certain of attending the service. A doctor's life is not exactly his own, Miss Lambeth. Sometimes there are emergencies—so far, I'm reasonably sure of next Sunday." Little lines crinkled around his intensely blue eyes as he smiled.
He went on to quickly to explain that he could not always be certain of attending the service. "A doctor's life is not exactly his own, Miss Lambeth. Sometimes there are emergencies—I do like to try to make church. But I'm reasonably sure of next Sunday." He smiled; little lines crinkled around his intensely blue eyes as they looked down at her.
For a moment Holly debated whether it was wise to accept the young doctor's invitation, then she became conscious of the movement of the curtain at one of the windows and realized Hetty must be watching. She felt a flare of indignation. Somehow she knew it would irritate Hetty if she made plans to drive out with Blaine Stevens. Defiantly, she thought, Why not? "Why, yes, Dr. Stevens, that sounds very nice indeed. I would enjoy that." Here was a chance to break the awful monotony of Sunday at Hetty's.
Smiling demurely, she put out her hand and said sweetly, "and thank you again for rescuing me."
The following Sunday, Holly came out of her room, ready for church, dressed in a bronze poplin "promenade" dress. Her bonnet beribboned with brown grosgrain sported a cluster of golden daisies, and she carried a silk, flounced parasol. Aurelia, seated on a high stool while Hetty finished braiding her hair, saw her and exclaimed, "Oooh, Holly, you look so-o pretty!" Hetty turned to look at her cousin, and her expression made Holly draw in her breath. What she saw on Hetty's face was ugly. For a minute, Holly was stunned. It was devastating to be the target of such raw dislike. Nervously she drew on her gloves, trying to think of something to say to ease the tension. But none came. Then Hetty said to Aurelia, "You're done now. Go out to the wagon. Your pa's waiting."
Holly stood there uncertainly. Hetty had turned away, presenting only her back, with its rigidly held shoulders, shutting out any possibility for any words. Silently Holly went out the door, feeling sad that she had caused her cousin such distress. But what could she do? A few minutes later, Hetty came out wearing a Quaker plain shovel bonnet and gray bombazine. Without saying anything, she got up into the driver's seat of the wagon beside Ned.
Seated with the children, Holly sought for something she might do to scale the barrier between her and her cousin. If somehow Hetty envied her outfits, the way she dressed or looked, why didn't she do something about her own appearance? There was much she could do! A less severe hairstyle would soften her sharp-featured face. She could certainly wear brighter colors. Surely she had the pick of the yards of fabric at Ned's store, many colors to choose from and more becoming patterns from which to make her clothes. Holly would have easily made such suggestions to any of her other cousins—but not to Hetty! Never Hetty. By this time they had reached the church, and without a word, Hetty marched the children off to the Sunday school rooms, leaving Holly to walk into church with Ned.
The Thorntons' pew was at the front of the church. It took all of Holly's willpower not to look around to check the congregation for Dr. Stevens. She hoped he had not forgotten or that there had not been an unexpected emergency this morning. That possibility kept her preoccupied during what turned out to be a rather dull sermon. After the service she stood with Ned outside on the church steps, searching for him. But there was still no sign of Dr. Stevens. Holly began to get worried. What if he didn't show up?
Holly had intended to tell Hetty about Blaine's invitation, but after the scene in the kitchen that morning there had been no chance. Now it was awkward. It would appear that she had purposely withheld the information. Which is exactly the reaction she got when Hetty returned with the children.
Ned was in conversation with some of the men when Hetty said, "Come along, Holly, we'll wait for Ned in the wagon." Hetty's voice had its perpetual impatience.
"I'll not be going home with you, Hetty," Holly replied coolly. "Dr. Stevens is meeting me here; he has asked me to go for a drive."
Hetty's eyes popped wide then squinted suspiciously. "Oh?" she said, then pointedly glanced around the quickly emptying churchyard. Neither Blaine nor his small black buggy were anywhere to be seen. A sly smile twisted her mouth, and she asked "You sure about that? Maybe you misunderstood Dr. Stevens' intentions?"
Because she was having her own misgivings, the snideness in Hetty's voice brought Holly
's own anxiety into sharp focus. Could she have been mistaken? Unwilling to give Hetty a chance to gloat, Holly lifted her chin, saying with more assurance than she felt, "He's possibly delayed by a patient's sudden illness or—he told me this was always a possibility—"
Ned finished his conversation with the man he'd been talking with and joined them. "Ready?" he asked innocent of the building tension between the cousins.
"Holly isn't going home with us, Ned. She has an appointment with a gentleman," Hetty told him with a toss of her head. "Come on, children." Hetty grabbed Aurelia and Teddy by the hand and marched down the church steps without a backward glance. Ned stood for a minute looking after his wife, then doubtfully at Holly.
"You go ahead, Ned. Blaine Stevens invited me to go driving. I'll be home later," Holly said with all the poise she could gather.
"Oh, Blaine? Well, that's nice, Holly. He's a prince of a fellow." Ned looked both ways down the road then back at Holly. "You sure? He could have been called out, you know—"
"Yes, I know, he said there's always that chance." Holly nodded her head wishing Ned would go. If Blaine didn't show up for some reason, she didn't want any witnesses to her embarrassment.
Ned hesitated. He looked up at the sky where some shadowy clouds moved ominously. "It looks like it might rain—I don't like to leave you here by yourself in case—," he halted, flushing, and amended, "what I mean to say is, you know how it is with doctors—Blaine may have got called out on an emergency—"
"I understand that, Ned. He told me he might be late. Please go on, don't keep Hetty and the children waiting. Something must have delayed Dr. Stevens, he'll be along soon," she assured him.
Reluctantly Ned left. The children waved as the wagon went by; Hetty looked straight ahead.
Now, I've done it again, Holly thought grimly. Oh, well, it wouldn't have mattered what I said or did, Hetty just doesn't want to he friends with me, no matter what! It probably riles her that someone as attractive as Blaine Stevens has asked me out.
