“What makes you not want to?” Cymbeline fought so hard with herself and the world to keep from admitting her feelings.
“The idea that I have to,” Cymbeline said. “Which always makes me want to do the exact opposite.”
“Yes, and sometimes that’s not a bad instinct.”
“Mama says it’s cutting your nose off to spite your face.” Cymbeline let out a long sigh. “But I grow so weary of having to take direction from men yet not being able to do any of the things they do.”
This was all true, and I’d felt the same way many times. “Isn’t that a separate thing, though? Loving a man and committing to a marriage doesn’t mean we’re condoning the way the world is. We can still believe these things even during partnership with a good man who loves us.” Theo had said I would have a say in my own life. Why shouldn’t I believe him? He’d shown me only kindness and patience. “With the right man, we can enjoy a lot of freedom. Viktor seems like a man who would take you as you are.”
“I suppose I should be more open to the idea. Everyone seems to think so anyway.” Resting her chin on her knees, she looked over at me. “What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should do whatever you wish. However, if you decide you don’t want to marry, then you must let Viktor go. He deserves to be happy with Emma or whomever if you don’t want him.”
She peered out at the water. “I know you’re right. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to do either one.”
“You are. Trust me.”
***
Cymbeline and I were still wet from a second swim when we walked in through the gate to the lawn. Our happy mood changed the moment we stepped onto the grass. At the bottom of the back porch stairs, Quinn knelt over my mother, who lay crumpled on the grass. It took me a moment to understand. Mother wasn’t moving. Quinn’s shoulders were shaking. I let out a cry from somewhere deep inside and began to run.
I fell on my knees next to Mother. Her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful.
“Louisa, I’m sorry,” Quinn said. “I found her this way. She’s not breathing.”
“She’s gone,” I said numbly as I picked up Mother’s hand and brought it to my face. She was already cold. How long had she been here while I was down at the creek having fun? “What happened to her?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “I’ve been out all morning, and when I came out to the porch to see where you all were, I found her.”
“We were down at the creek,” Cymbeline said.
A shadow came over us. I looked up to see Alexander. He dropped to his knees next to me. I began to sob. “I wanted to say goodbye this time,” I mumbled through my tears. Why was it like this again? My parent gone without warning.
Quinn put her arms around me. “I’m sorry, Louisa.” I collapsed against her and let her hold me as more tears came.
The next hours went by in a blur. Dr. Neal arrived at some point to examine Mother. We all knew it was too late to do anything. As if I were watching a play, I heard him say that Mother’s heart must have simply stopped. Then the undertaker arrived and took Mother away. Where was Theo? I’d asked Dr. Neal, and he’d said he was out in the country somewhere helping a sick family. No phone, he said, but he promised to send him home the moment Theo returned to the office.
I went back to the cottage and lay down on the bed. My dress was still damp from our impromptu swim. How could I have been having fun while Mother was dying? Thinking only of myself. I was a selfish, selfish girl.
What was I even doing here? Pretending to be part of the Barnes family as if I belonged? I was a nobody without a family, just as I’d been before the Linds took me in. Always at the mercy of people’s charity. Theo had offered to marry me out of pity. I could see that now. His kind heart couldn’t stand the thought of Mother and me being homeless and stricken with poverty. I couldn’t let him do it. Not now that Mother was dead. I would find my own way. I had to leave. Get out of here and run away. Maybe to Denver where I could start over where no one knew me.
But what would I do? I had no money and no skills. I’d had to beg before when I was a child. I could do it again if I had to. Anything would be better than relying on Theo’s pity.
An image of Flynn and Shannon as they’d stood together in the kitchen flashed through my mind. I’d been kidding myself thinking Theo and I would ever be like them. Shannon Cassidy was vivacious and pretty and competent. I was worthless.
Run, mouse, run.
Pa’s voice echoed through my mind. He’d always told me how pathetic I was and that I’d never make it without him. I’d wanted him to be wrong, but if the Linds hadn’t taken me in, I would have died.
You were a child. Incapable of taking care of yourself.
But wasn’t I still this way? Without Theo I would be out in the cold, dark world alone. The Linds were no longer here to rescue me. Taking me in had caused them both to die younger than they should. I’d caused them too much trouble and money. They were dead because of me. I would not ruin the best man I’d ever known. Not Theo.
I got up and wandered around the house, picking up objects and setting them back down again, wondering what to do next. Finally, I decided. I went to the closet and pulled out my suitcase.
21
Theo
* * *
I was in great spirits by the time I returned to the office that afternoon from my rounds out in the countryside. The moment I entered the lobby, however, I could see something was wrong.
Dr. Neal, his hair every which way, came out of his office. “Mrs. Lind passed away this afternoon.”
No. No, it couldn’t be. Not this, not now, when Louisa and I were making progress. She would be devastated. I cursed under my breath, not loud enough for Nurse Kelley to hear, who hovered near her desk.
“How was Louisa?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“She took it hard,” Dr. Neal said, shaking his head. “You should head home. She was asking where you were every five minutes, not remembering she’d already asked me.”
“In shock, most likely, poor mite,” Mrs. Kelley said.
I thanked them and drove home, my stomach in knots. Why couldn’t my girl catch a break? I parked out in the garage and loped across the driveway and into the gardens toward the cottage. A shadow figure moved on the other side of the curtains.
I knocked and called her name. Footsteps came from the other side, and then the door opened. Louisa, her face red and damp with tears, stared back at me as if she didn’t know who I was.
“Louisa? I’m so sorry.”
She straightened her shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve decided I’ll be leaving for Denver right after the funeral.”
I jerked as if she’d struck me. “Denver? What are you saying?”
“This isn’t what I want. I was only marrying you for Mother. To keep her safe.”
My stomach churned. She wanted to leave. She didn’t want me. It was only about the money. My brother was right. Still, my instinct was to take care of her. “But what will you do? How will you live?”
“I don’t know.” She retreated into the room. I followed her, shutting the door behind me. “All I know is that I can’t be a burden on you like I was the Linds.”
“You’re not a burden. Not to them and not to me.”
“You want what Shannon and Flynn have. I’m not like her. I’ll ruin your life. You should have a whole woman, not one broken like me.”
“You don’t have to marry me, but you can’t run away. My family will look after you.”
“No, I can’t let it happen again.”
“Let what happen?” She wasn’t making sense.
“I killed the Linds. They would still be here if they hadn’t taken me in.”
“That’s not true. They were old and lived full lives. Much fuller because of you.” The classes I’d taken at university had delved a little into grief and trauma. She was clearly reacting irrationally to her mother’s death.
“T
hey put all their money toward me and look what happened. I didn’t come home with a rich husband.”
“Your father hoped for that because he wanted what was best for you. But you didn’t fail him. You didn’t cause his death.”
She sank into one of the chairs and covered her face. A sob rose out of her chest that sounded like a wounded animal. “I didn’t deserve them. I’m trash. I’m a scared, worthless little mouse. That’s what he called me. When he chased me, Pa shouted, ‘Run, mouse, run.’ The gun was aimed at the back of my head. I would run and run, scared out of my mind, sure the bullet would come at any moment. I knew I would die that way.”
My entire body shook with rage. I staggered over to the nearest chair and sat. An image of the little girl she’d been the first time I ever saw her played before my eyes. She’d been so small and skinny with those giant eyes. How could a man do that to a little girl?
She wiped her face with her hands, then pointed a finger at me. “See there. I can see how you feel sorry for me. I can’t allow you to wreck your life over this…marriage to me. I can’t ever give you what you want or need.” She jerked to her feet and went to her suitcase, tossing one last dress inside and shutting the top. There were too many items, though, and it remained open, reminding me of an alligator’s mouth. “I can’t let you do it, Theo. You’re too good a man.”
I could barely speak my chest was so tight. “This isn’t an act of charity. I love you.”
She whirled around. “I love you, but what good does that do us? I’m still me.”
“You love me?” My heart felt as if it might burst. “I thought you said you were only doing it for your mother.”
“I lied. I’ve been lying to myself all this time. I’ve known all along this was wrong. For you.”
“You love me?” I asked, repeating myself.
“How could I not? You’ve accepted me as I am. But at what detriment to yourself, Theo? I love you enough to leave you and let you have a good life. I can’t let you marry me over pity.”
“I want you, not because I pity you but because I adore you. Everything about you. Your beauty and courage and fragility. We fit together. You know we do. This is all grief. Bringing back all the feelings you’ve stuffed down inside you all this time.”
“It would kill me to think of you sacrificing yourself for me,” she said.
“If you want to go, I can’t stop you. Just know that, to me, you’re the finest woman in all the world. I’d do anything to have you by my side for the rest of my life. But you’re not trapped here. I’ll give you whatever funds you need to get started somewhere else. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“Oh, Theo.” The way she said my name made my heart feel no longer like an organ pumping my blood but the heart the poets wrote of. One that could break in two and leave me ruined. “My Theo,” she whispered, swaying slightly, as if she might faint.
I got up from the chair and sped over to her, catching her just in time. Lifting her in my arms, I carried her over to the sofa and set her down as gently as I could. She curled onto her side, resting her head on a decorative pillow. I knelt next to her, stroking her arm. “Please stay with me. Marry me. We can have a life together. Two broken parts that make a whole. You don’t have to be perfect. All the hurts from your past won’t magically disappear. And they don’t mean you don’t deserve to be loved or to love or to enjoy all that life offers, including a man who adores you and his big, interfering family.”
She stared at me with sad eyes. “What if you come to your senses and change your mind? I couldn’t bear it.”
“I can say with all certainty that I won’t change my mind.” No truer words had ever come from my mouth. “If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the next fifty years proving it to you.”
“I’m sorry. I want that. More than anything.” She sat up and reached for me.
I pulled her onto my lap and stroked her hair and kissed her damp cheeks and let her cry into the fabric of my shirt until she was out of tears.
22
Louisa
* * *
We buried Mother on a Sunday, her favorite day of the week. For me, the burial was a blur. If Theo had not been there to hold my hand, I’m uncertain how I would have gotten through the ordeal. Afterward, we all returned to the house. Quinn had invited anyone who wanted to come and pay their respects. As the maids served small sandwiches and coffee, I managed to greet the mourners and thank them for coming. Theo and the rest of the Barneses did their best to mingle and thank everyone as well. Finally, exhausted, I slipped away to the porch.
I heard the clatter of small feet and turned to see Delphia and Addie running up the stairs. They spotted me and stopped. They’d not come to the grave site and were not dressed in black as the mourners were.
I attempted a smile, but my mouth was as numb as the rest of me.
“Hello, Miss Louisa,” Addie said.
“We’ve come from the barn,” Delphia said. “Feeding the chickens.”
“Mama said we’re not to disturb you,” Addie said.
“But we didn’t know you were out here,” Delphia said, a little defensively, as if she thought they would be in trouble.
“It’s all right,” I said. “You’re not disturbing me. In fact, I’d like some company.”
Addie came closer, inspecting me in a way that reminded me of Theo, both sensitive and curious. She came to sit beside me. Delphia, perhaps following the lead of her older sister, did the same. They rested their cheeks against my shoulders. The scent of sunshine emanated from their golden heads.
“I’m sorry you’re sad,” Addie said. “I wish we could take another person’s sadness away.”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” I asked.
“We read a book about a fairy godmother with a magic wand,” Delphia said. “You’d need one of those.”
“What would you use a wand for? If you had one?” I asked.
“Could I have a candy jar that never ran out?” Delphia asked. “Or does it have to be for someone else?”
“It should be for someone else. To help people.” Addie said this as if she were thinking out loud. “Candy doesn’t help people.”
“Too bad,” Delphia said.
“Tell me a story about my mother,” I said. “From Sunday school.”
They both lifted their heads to look at me.
“Won’t it make you sadder to talk about her?” Delphia asked.
“No, it won’t,” Addie said. “Remember when Grammie died? I wanted to talk about her and remember fun times. But no one would.”
“People think it helps if they don’t bring it up,” I said. “Because they think it’ll make your grief worse, but Addie, you’re right. You don’t forget about how sad you are just because no one talks about the person you lost.”
“I remember one time in Sunday school,” Delphia said. “I made Mrs. Lind laugh really hard.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I asked her why God made toots,” Delphia said, quite seriously. “She laughed so hard that tears came out of her eyes, and she had to leave the room for a minute.”
“It was awful,” Addie said. “I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Everyone was laughing.”
“Why’s everyone so afraid to talk about toots?” Delphia shook her head, clearly mystified by this lack of tolerance for her curiosity. “Mama says it’s bad manners.”
For the first time that afternoon, I smiled. “There are certain things we’re not supposed to mention in polite society.”
“Well, I still want to know why God made them,” Delphia said. “Also, why did he make the type of bees that sting you?”
“I’d like to know why he gave anyone the idea that cow liver was good to eat,” Addie said. “I plan on asking when I get up to heaven.”
“Everyone’s always trying to get Addie to eat it,” Delphia said. “Because she’s so weak and pale.”
“Which only makes me sicker.” Addie shuddered. �
��Liver’s disgusting.” She drew out the word disgusting.
“I have to agree,” I said.
“Did Mrs. Lind ever make you eat it?” Delphia asked.
I shook my head. “No, she didn’t. We never had any at our house.”
“Lucky,” Addie said.
“Mother was a terrible cook,” I said. “She often burned our supper.”
“Really?” Delphia asked. “What would you eat then?”
“Sometimes we’d have bread and butter, which Father and I loved. Then, when I got a little older, I started cooking for us.” I flashed back to a cozy evening last winter when I’d made soup from squash and cream. Father had eaten three helpings, and Mother had chastised him for cleaning his bowl with a piece of bread.
“We have Lizzie, so we don’t know if Mama can cook,” Delphia said.
“Lizzie’s the best cook in the whole world,” Addie said.
“Yes, she is,” I said.
The three of us sat together in silence for a moment. Wise Addie was correct. Talking about Mother made me feel better. “Delphia, I was just a little older than you when the Linds took me in. Did you know I was adopted?”
“Mama told us,” Addie said.
“Families are made all different ways,” Delphia said. “Mama told us that too.”
“Because our brothers and sisters had a different mother first,” Addie said.
“I knew them all before Quinn married your Papa.”
“What happened to your real mother and father?” Delphia asked.
“My mother died when I three or so,” I said. “My father is dead too. My real one, that is. They’re all gone now.”
“We’re here though,” Addie said.
“We will be your family now,” Delphia said.
Theo appeared around the corner of the house and bounded up the stairs. He took his hat off when he saw the three of us sitting there. “Little ones, Mama’s looking for you. She says it’s your teatime.”
Delphia and Addie jumped up from the bench. Each, in turn, gave me a hug.
The Scholar Page 21
