The Scholar

by Tess Thompson

  ***

  The bell over the front door of Johnson’s Dry Goods chimed. Mrs. Johnson looked up briefly from cutting a few yards of flannel for a woman I didn’t recognize. “Hi, Louisa. I’ll be right with you.”

  Mrs. Johnson, tall and wide-shouldered, with thick silvery-blond hair and broad features, was still beautiful despite being in her fifties.

  “Thank you.” The Johnson family had owned the store for as long as I could remember. With both Martha and Elsa married, they had hired help occasionally to help Mrs. Johnson run the counter. I didn’t have high hopes, but I figured it was worth asking if she had any work.

  I wandered around the store while I waited. In addition to fabric, the store sold dry food, home supplies, ice skates, balls, and almost anything else I could imagine. Since the ski lodge had opened, they also sold skis and boots. Flynn had said a ski area would bring commerce to the entire town. This store was evidence that he’d been correct.

  When she’d finished with her customer, Mrs. Johnson came out to where I stood by a display of skates. She was the type of woman who commanded both attention and respect. Her daughters, whom I’d been at school with back in the early days, looked very much like their mother. Elsa was married to the town’s first dentist. Martha was married to Dr. Neal. They lived in new, beautiful homes not far from the Barneses’ property. I disliked myself for it, but just thinking about them made me twitch with jealousy. Everything clicked along with ease for women like the Johnsons.

  “What do you need today, Louisa?” Mrs. Johnson asked.

  “Nothing. I came to see if you needed any help here at the store.”

  “But why?” Before I could answer, her thin brows came together. She brushed a few silvery strands of hair back in her bun. “Have they really run him out?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “They want us out of the rectory as well. I was wondering if you needed any help here?”

  “I hired someone last week. If she doesn’t work out, I’ll be sure to let you know.” She cocked her head to the side, looking at me with her sharp eyes. “I can’t imagine the young men aren’t knocking one another out of the way to get to you. Has no one caught your eye?”

  “Me, no.”

  “I’m sure you’ll meet someone eventually.”

  “Do you have any ideas of places I could look for work?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “The Higgins brothers run the butcher shop without any help, so I don’t think they need anyone. Same with Mr. and Mrs. Olofsson. The feed store has work occasionally, but I think they only hire men. Have you thought about asking Annabelle Higgins? She might need some help.” Annabelle, Quinn’s younger sister, made wedding gowns. I could sew a button on a shirt but that was about the extent of my seamstress abilities. I’d not learned when I was young. Mother had tried, but I didn’t have the aptitude for it. From the cutting of the fabric to the sewing itself, the entire process was too slow and detailed for my impatient ways. I’d grown easily frustrated. Knitting was also not in my list of capabilities. Really, what could I do? Other than cook and clean, I was useless.

  “I’m not a good seamstress,” I said. Shame crippled me. I looked away, unable to meet the compassionate Mrs. Johnson’s gaze. Kind people made me ashamed. If she’d been nasty, I would have risen to a fighting position. For most of my life I’d had to rely on the charity of others. I’d do almost anything not to have to take another handout. Poor, poor Louisa Kellam. I could almost hear Mrs. Johnson’s inner thoughts.

  “I’ll keep an ear out for other work.” Mrs. Johnson patted my upper arm. “Please don’t worry. Something’s bound to come up.”

  The front door swung open and Nora Cassidy walked through wearing overalls and a man’s leather hat.

  She greeted us in her usual friendly manner. “Good morning, ladies.”

  “Hello, Nora. I’ve got the part you ordered in the back.” Mrs. Johnson hurried toward the back to fetch whatever it was Nora had come in for.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.” Nora snatched her hat from her head and held it in front of her as a man would. Her white-blond hair hung just above her chin and complemented her elfin face. So many of the girls who wore the square, boxy cut had looked better with long hair that softened their features. Nora didn’t need any enhancements.

  “Is the rumor true?” Nora asked in a hushed voice. “Are they kicking you out of your home?”

  “They need room for the new pastor. It was never ours to begin with, really. The house belongs to the church.”

  “I suppose, but it’s terrible to be left with nowhere to go. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep our small farm going. If we lost it, I don’t know what would happen to Mother and me. It’s terrifying to be alone, isn’t it? I mean, without a man.”

  “It is. How are you holding up?”

  “I have two hired men helping, so the farm’s doing all right.” Her expression darkened as she gazed down at the hat in her hand. “My mom’s been sick. Dr. Neal doesn’t know what’s wrong with her.”

  I listened as she described her mother’s symptoms: lethargy, coughing, and an aching head.

  “The headaches are the worst part,” Nora said. “She has to stay in a dark room.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Seems to me you have your hands full as it is. Thank you, though.”

  “We’ve come a long way since our schoolgirl days, haven’t we?”

  “Yes, but in what direction?” Nora asked.

  We laughed. Despite hardships, there was almost always something that could make me laugh.

  “We have the summer party out at the Barneses’ to look forward to,” Nora said. “I’ve been saving my pennies to buy fabric for a new dress.”

  The last few summers, Alexander and Quinn held an end-of-summer party. Everyone in Emerson Pass was invited. Women fretted over their attire, knowing that Quinn and her girls would be dressed well.

  “Will you sew it yourself?” I asked.

  “Yes, who else would?”

  I was saved from admitting I couldn’t sew a stitch when Mrs. Johnson returned with Nora’s package. After saying goodbye to them both, I returned to the street. What now?

  ***

  Ten minutes later, I walked along the dirt road toward the Barneses’ estate. The weather was pleasant, and despite my troubles, I enjoyed the beauty of the wildflowers in the meadows and the sounds of birds singing from the trees.

  The hum of a motorcar drew my attention. I turned to look and was surprised to see Cymbeline behind the wheel. She came to a stop next to me.

  “Louisa, what are you doing out this way?” Cymbeline asked.

  “I’m walking out to call on your mother,” I said.

  “Would you like a lift the rest of the way?”

  “I’d be grateful, thank you.”

  Seconds later, we were barreling down the road.

  “Where were you this morning?” I asked to make conversation. Cymbeline intimidated me. She was smart and assertive and never seemed to worry what anyone thought of her.

  “I’m coming home from helping Poppy. One of the Reynoldses’ horses had a difficult birth.”

  “Did everything come out all right?”

  Cymbeline nodded, then yawned. “Yes, but we were up half the night.” She wore men’s trousers, held up with a cinched leather belt around her waist. I glanced down at her feet—men’s boots caked with dirt. Why did she enjoy mucking about in mud? If I were rich and beautiful, I’d do nothing but read and pick wildflowers.

  “I’d heard you were assisting Poppy. Are you enjoying yourself?” What a stupid question. I felt stiff and old-fashioned next to progressive Cymbeline, who spent nights helping to birth foals and drove a motorcar and wore pants.

  “Oh, yes, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. Papa wants me to get married and stop all this running around. So far I’ve escaped the noose.”

  Fathers wanting to see their daughters married seemed to be a
commonality in all families, whether rich or poor.

  “Why are you headed out to see Mama?” Cymbeline asked.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “I don’t ask questions I don’t want the answer to.” She glanced over at me with a grin on her face. “I’m too nosy, but I can’t stop myself.”

  I told her what had happened, closing the sad story with my conclusion that I needed a job.

  She tugged off her hat and tossed it into the back seat. Her hair was in a braid. Brown curls had escaped and bounced with the movement of the car. “Oh dear, this is quite the conundrum. As far as my mother goes, I’m not sure she’ll have anything for you.”

  I sighed as the pit in my stomach returned. “Are you all full then?”

  “It’s not that. There’s no way Mama or my father will hire you. They see you as a family friend, not someone they would employ.”

  I turned away to look at the landscape and tried not to cry.

  “Don’t look like that,” Cymbeline said as we veered right into their driveway. “You’re right to ask them for help. They’re not going to let you and your parents go without a home. Not when we have enough room for you.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I felt certain my father would be reticent to accept that kind of help.

  We came through a thicket of aspens to the Barneses’ large house. Besides the brick-and-wood house, there was a red barn and carriage house. Horses grazed in the green meadow and chickens pecked the dirt. Flowers bloomed all around the house in attractive clumps. A twitch of envy came to me. What would it be like to live here and have the freedom Cymbeline had? Money was freedom, I thought.

  “I’ll drop you at the front here before I park the car,” Cymbeline said. “Jasper will answer the door, so go on in without me.”

  I thanked her for the ride and hopped to the ground. I’d been here many times for parties and had always enjoyed myself. However, this was different. I needed something and would have to be brave enough to ask.

  As promised, Jasper appeared before I even had the chance to use the knocker. “Miss Lind, how nice to see you.”

  I admired his clipped British accent, which made him sound smart and elegant. “Good morning, Jasper. I’m sorry to call unannounced, but I wondered if Mrs. Barnes was available?”

  “Come in. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  I thanked him and stepped inside the Barneses’ foyer, where dark wood gleamed under the lights. A maid I didn’t recognize came up from the basement and nodded at me before scurrying up the stairs to the second floor. I steadied myself with a deep breath, remembering the first time I’d ever set foot in this home. I’d been scared and ashamed of the dirty rags that passed as clothes and the gnawing hunger in my belly. Mrs. Barnes had been Miss Cooper back then, before she married Lord Barnes. When she’d come to Emerson Pass to become the town’s first teacher, she’d been poor too. Like me, yet not like me. Her father had died, leaving her to look after her mother and sister; my mother had died, leaving me alone with Pa. I shuddered. Put him out of your mind, I instructed myself. He has no place here. I was here to take care of the people who had taken care of me. Pride and fear could not rule.

  I looked up at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. “Louisa, how nice to see you.” Fiona Barnes glided down the stairs in a pink summer dress. Her brown hair was pinned demurely at the back of her neck. “Is the pastor all right? Your mother?”

  “Yes, everyone’s fine. As of now anyway.”

  Fiona stopped in front of me and took my hands. “Dear me. I can see something’s wrong. What’s happened?”

  I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from crying. Although she was only seventeen, Fiona had the essence of someone much older. Her strong hands squeezed mine before letting them go. No one would know from looking at them how they could fly across piano keys to make the most extraordinary music. Her tenderhearted eyes were fixed upon me. “Whatever it is, we can help. I’m sure of it.”

  “The church board fired Father. We have to leave our home.”

  “What? No, no, that’s not right.”

  A girl in Fiona’s enviable position might not believe how badly adults could act, especially when it came to money or power. I, however, knew exactly.

  “I’ve come to talk to your mother about it,” I said. “Hoping she might have an idea of what to do.”

  “If anyone can, it’s Mama.”

  Quinn appeared in the foyer. As always, she was tidy and perfectly turned out in a cream-colored dress. Her doe-like gaze fixed on me. She seemed to immediately know something was wrong. “Louisa, what’s happened?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.” My voice shook slightly. Was it a mistake to have come? Father would not like it, airing our troubles to the Barneses. I was here. It was too late to turn back now. I would have to go through with it.

  “Come into the library. Lizzie just sent up a fresh pot of tea. You can tell us all about it.”

  All three of us went into the sitting room. I breathed easier just being here. The shelves were lined with books. Cozy reading nooks and chairs gave the room a comfortable and inviting environment. I could pretend for as long as I had to that I belonged here in this finery. Fiona’s piano caught my eye. Its black surface reflected the sun that streamed in through the windows.

  Seconds later, I was seated on one of the sofas facing Quinn and Fiona. June weather being warm, the stone fireplace was unlit today and had been brushed of all remnants of wood or ash. Quinn poured me a cup of tea and then sat back to look over at me. Fiona had taken the seat next to her mother. I was likely keeping her from her piano practice. Where were the little girls? School was out for the summer. They were probably playing outside or reading somewhere.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” Quinn asked. “And how can we help?”

  I told her bluntly that Father had been fired and that we needed to find a place to live as soon as possible.

  Quinn’s eyes went wide as she leaned closer, as if she hadn’t heard me. “Why on earth would they do that?” Even after giving birth to two children, Quinn Barnes was as slender and petite as she’d been when she first arrived in Emerson Pass as a young woman. She’d been the same age then as I was now, I realized. How brave she’d been to come out to the frontier and teach school. I must be like her now. I’d grown soft living with the Linds. Now was the time to step up and be strong. I must save my family. The only family I’d ever known.

  I told them about Mrs. Poe. How she’d come from Chicago and taken over the church board. “She had a pastor in mind from her old church in Chicago. Slowly but surely, she’s been undermining Father and convincing the others that he’s no good.”

  “How do you know this?” Quinn asked.

  “She said as much when she gave him the news that they’d already found his replacement.” Afraid I might burst into tears, I set aside my tea. “We have to be out of the house very soon. We’ll have to leave Emerson Pass. Father will be forced to start over somewhere. Unless I can find work and a house for us. They’re getting frail. Both are in poor health. I don’t think they could survive a move, even if he could find another church.”

  “How could they do this after Pastor Lind’s years of service?” Fiona asked. “Can’t Papa do something?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Quinn said. “The way the bylaws are set up at the church, the board does have the power to dismiss a pastor. Alexander wanted it that way so that he didn’t have ultimate power simply because he’d helped to found the church.”

  “If only he’d put himself in charge. This Mrs. Poe is a stranger to us.” Fiona rose to her feet and went to the window, clearly upset. “What can we do, Mama?”

  Before she could answer, I jumped in to ask the question I’d come here for. “Would you have any work for me?”

  Quinn’s forehead creased. “Do you mean here with us?”

  “Yes, as a maid or anything else you’d have.” My voice quivered.
The helpless sensation I remembered as a child rattled me. I hesitated as Fiona returned to us. “I could learn whatever it is you need done. I’m a decent cook. Does Lizzie need any help?”

  “Having been in your position,” Quinn said, “I do understand your desire to help your family. But working for us is not the answer. You’re our friend, almost like family. In addition, a maid’s salary can’t keep an entire family afloat, not to mention your parents’ need for a place to live.”

  “What can I do, then?” I asked, unable to keep the desperation from my voice.

  “You and your parents will move into our guest cottage,” Quinn said matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t know if Father would do that,” I said. “He’s proud.”

  “We can propose the idea to him as a temporary solution.” Quinn folded her hands in her lap. “Most men are proud. However, he and Alexander have been friends for a long time. My hope is that he’ll accept help from us, especially considering you and your mother.”

  A sense of relief took hold. Quinn was right. Father would have to accept help. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing else needs to be said.” Quinn stood. “What if I were to come out later with Alexander? We can propose the idea to them?”

  “Yes, it would be better coming from you,” I said as I got to my feet.

  Fiona, who had risen from the sofa, threw her arms around me. “Don’t worry, Louisa. Everything will be all right in the end.”

  I hoped she was right. At the moment, I couldn’t imagine a time when my parents would ever feel right again.

  5

  Theo

  * * *

  Dr. Neal’s nurse, Mrs. Kelley, greeted me as I came through the door. “Dr. Barnes, welcome.” She stood, smoothing her skirts as she came around the desk. “You’re looking dapper.” Her husband, Thomas, had opened a feed store when they’d moved here a few years back. Kathleen Kelley was a handsome, broad-shouldered woman in her late forties. Silver hair framed a wide face, and her green eyes sparkled with intelligence. From my interactions with her on the telephone, she’d been startlingly frank. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t much she wouldn’t share, including that she hadn’t had any children and, by God, preferred it that way. “I like to work and have my own life,” she’d told me. “I already raised a gaggle of siblings, thank you very much, and don’t need to do that again.”