by Indiana Wake
“Nobody has God-given choices,” her mother snapped angrily.
“Yes, they have; we all have. Just because they are taken away does not mean we did not have them in the first place, and it does not mean we do not have the right to them now.”
“Your notions, those silly ideas you get from books, will only make your life a misery. I warned your father against letting you have too much education, but he would not listen. If he had thought of it himself…”
“Exactly that, Mama. If it had been his idea, I would not have been educated at all. But it was your idea, and you are only his wife,” Amanda said, noting that she was going too far but unable to stop herself. “He only let me sit in that schoolroom because he would not have his wife tell him what to do. It is the only thing I’m grateful for.”
“You have much more to be grateful for than that.”
“When I have no choice? When my brothers may choose their own brides, but I may not choose my own husband, tell me exactly what it is I have to be grateful for, Mama?”
“I had no choice over my husband, Amanda.”
“Why would you force the same on me?”
“It is not for me to force you.”
“No, that is Papa’s domain, isn’t it? But it is in your power to keep my confidence, isn’t it? It is in your power to forget what you saw today and give me the smallest hope that my life might one day be my own.”
“You’re too young to know what you want.”
“No, I’m not,” Amanda bit back. “Just because you were forced to marry my father, should that really mean that you would happily see the same thing happen to me? Why would you, my own mother, not want to see me married to a man I love? Why would you not want to see me, your only daughter, happy?”
“I might not have chosen your father, but I grew to love him in the end. I’ve had a good life and I know well when to be grateful. It would serve you well to learn the same.”
“Mama, Garth Walton is a pig.”
“He’s no such thing.”
“If you had heard how he and his friends laughed as he looked me up and down in the diner and called out suggestive remarks, you might not be so convinced of that.”
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you say,” her mother said but had the decency to look unsettled by it.
“It was. He would never have behaved that way towards me in front of you and Papa, would he? Which means he knows it is not decent.”
“And kissing a man you hardly know is?” Her mother had quickly rallied.
“I do know Joe Macey. I love him and he loves me,” Amanda said, hoping that she was speaking the truth. “He’s a wonderful man, Mama, so kind and caring. He listens to me and is so clever, he’s learned so much. And we have so much in common, our books and our interest in…”
“Books again! That is no guarantee of a happy life.”
“To me it is. And Garth Walton is an absolute guarantee of an unhappy life, Mama. You should see how he behaves at the barn dance. Every time I set eyes on him, he is leering at some young woman or other. Do you really think a man like that will be faithful to me?”
“Men will be men, my dear. There is nothing that can change that, and it will be all the better for you the sooner you just accept it.”
“Like you?”
“Your father has never been unfaithful to me, Amanda!” Caroline Hargreaves said defensively.
“I know. But the idea of it has turned you upside down. Why would you be happy for me to be treated that way?”
“You can’t be sure Garth would do that to you.” Her mother looked unsure of herself now.
“But I can be sure that I will never love him, Mama.”
“As I said, I grew to love your father.”
“I already love Joe Macey. I want my own life.”
“I’m going to lay down for a while. I have a dreadful headache.” Caroline Hargreaves rose to her feet and held out her hand, putting an end to the conversation.
“Mama, please don’t tell Papa about Joe. Please.”
“I’m going to lay down for a while. I can’t think about this now.” And with that, her mother left the room.
If only they had not been found out so soon. If only she knew for certain that Joe loved her, her parents’ wishes would count for nothing.
All Amanda could do now was hope that her mother would keep her secret; the one thing which might save her only daughter from a life of misery.
Chapter Fifteen
“Joe, you have a visitor,” Dr. Macey said as she popped her head around the edge of his bedroom door.
It was early evening and he had retired to his room to write in peace while his mother and father caught up with each other at the end of their working day.
It was something which had always made Joe smile; the fact that his parents still loved and respected each other after so many years of marriage. His earliest memories were of his parents’ chatter at the end of the day and the genuine interest in each other. It was the sort of partnership in life Joe had always wanted for himself; the sort of partnership he already knew he could have with Amanda Hargreaves.
“Oh?” Joe looked up from his writing desk; his heart leaped at the idea it was Amanda.
He had missed her all-day Saturday and had been in hopes of seeing her in church on Sunday, if only for a secret glance at her beautiful chestnut hair and peachy skin. But her family had been absent, and he had been left with a sense of deprivation.
Maybe Amanda had felt the same way and sneaked out to see him.
“It’s Bess Lawler,” his mother said and frowned; she was as perplexed as he was.
Joe hurried out and made his way to the sitting room where Bess had been neatly settled on the couch.
“Bess?” he said, smiling as he sat down on the armchair nearest to her. “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know, Joe,” she said and looked pale and anxious. “I don’t think so.”
“What is it?”
“I think Amanda’s daddy knows about the two of you,” she said in a whisper, as if Joe’s own parents might be dismayed to hear it.
“Why? What has happened?”
“I called on her yesterday afternoon. I was worried, you see, when she wasn’t in church in the morning.”
“I didn’t see any of the family.”
“Neither did I. I called to make sure everything was all right.”
“And?”
“Her father sent me away. Politely, but I was left in no doubt that I wasn’t welcome.”
“And is he often so obstructive?”
“No, never. He has always welcomed me into the house.” She became a little tearful. “I’ve been Amanda’s friend since we were this high.” She held out a shaky hand to about waist height.
“Did you see Amanda?”
“No, I told Mr. Hargreaves I was worried about them all because they weren’t in church. He just brushed it off, saying that it was a family matter which has now been solved. He told me that Amanda would not be seeing me that evening. Oh, but Joe….” She finally broke down into sobs. “He left me with the impression that I wouldn’t be allowed to see Amanda ever again. I could see it in his eyes. He must know, Joe. He must.”
“And you haven’t seen Amanda since?”
“No. I went to the diner today. She usually works alone on a Monday.”
“Yes, I know.”
“But Sandy was there, and she wasn’t very helpful. She was angry, you see, because she’d been forced to come in on her day off and work.”
“And she couldn’t tell you why Amanda wasn’t there?” Joe had a sick, dull feeling in the pit of his stomach.
As Bess continued to cry, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He handed it to her, and she silently nodded her thanks.
“She wasn’t in the mood to be helpful in any way. Sandy isn’t the nicest young woman I’ve ever met.”
“I’m going to go over there now,” Joe said decisiv
ely.
“But the diner is closed now, Joe.”
“Not the diner, the farmhouse.”
“Don’t, Joe, please. You need to find out what’s happening first, and I reckon that Sandy will talk to you if she won’t talk to me. She prefers men, you see,” Bess said and managed to give a sneer of derision through her tears. “Can you go to the diner tomorrow morning and find out? It might be nothing, it might have blown over,” she went on as if trying to convince herself that everything was going to be all right. “Amanda might even be there.”
“Yes, she might,” Joe said, trying to give comfort despite the fact that he already knew there would be no sign of Amanda the following day.
“Thank you, Joe. Amanda really does care for you, you know.”
“I know, and I really do care for her.” He was only too glad to admit it. “I’ll find out and I’ll let you know.”
Without a moment of sleep, Joe rose early the following morning intent on making his way to the diner. Knowing that it wouldn’t be open for a while yet, he knew he couldn’t just sit idle in the house. Instead he walked through the town and down to the riverbank, pacing back and forth in the hopes that the sound of the water and birdsong would do something to calm him. But it did not; he would not be calm again until he knew what was going on.
By the time he reached the diner, it was to find Sandy, sour faced and alone, wiping down the tables she had obviously not managed the day before. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that Amanda managed to work alone and work well, but he knew he would have to sweeten the woman, not sour her further.
“Oh, good morning,” Sandy said, her sour expression becoming something more sugary; Bess was right, this young lady certainly did prefer the male of the species. “What can I get you, honey?”
“Just some coffee, thanks,” he said and sat down at a table not far from the counter.
His stomach was churning, and coffee was the last thing he wanted, but he would have to play his part for a while; his questions were going to raise suspicion enough if he wasn’t careful.
“There you go, nice and fresh,” Sandy said and pouted.
Joe almost laughed; he knew that Sandy was not at all interested in him, he was undoubtedly far too bookish for her taste. But it was some sort of reflex action he was witnessing; her pout and swaying walk an instant reaction to male company of any kind.
“Thank you,” he said and spent some minutes in silence drinking his coffee while Sandy went about her business.
There was nobody else in the diner and he knew that he needed to get on with it. If he didn’t start making his enquiries soon, the solitude would be interrupted by someone looking for a little breakfast.
“Sandy?” he said and she turned to him, her bright smile fixed. “You don’t normally work on your own, do you? It seems a lot for one person,” he added, hoping to keep on her good side with his feigned concern.
“You can say that again,” Sandy said, clearly pleased that somebody had finally recognized her obvious plight. “But I was on my own all day yesterday as well. No doubt I’ll be on my own until the boss finds a replacement for Amanda.” She spat the word Amanda as if it were a curse.
“Oh, she’s left, has she? Found a job somewhere else, I suppose.” Joe was struggling to be nonchalant; what on earth had happened?
“I suppose she’ll be working on her father’s farm from now on.” Sandy shrugged.
“Is that what she said?”
“She didn’t even bother to come in herself and say it; her daddy came in. Spoke to the boss Monday morning, he did, and told him that his precious little girl wasn’t going to be working here anymore.” Sandy clearly thought the whole thing was Amanda’s fault and Joe found himself despising her for it. “And then the boss was knocking on my door demanding that I give up my day off to cover for her.”
“How annoying for you,” Joe said, struggling to sound sympathetic. “And that’s it? She’s not coming back?”
“No, and good riddance, I say. She’s so superior, thinking herself too good to accept a smile and a wink from the handsome farmers. She ought to think herself lucky rather than thinking herself better than everybody else.”
Joe smiled and bit his tongue; he had very little time for young women who had no respect for themselves; the kind who became angry with others who did. But the pouting Sandy was none of his concern; he’d found what he had come to find and it was time to leave the waitress to her complaining.
“Well, that’s me, finished,” Joe said, smiling broadly and rising to his feet, determined to get out of there. “I hope you soon have a little help, Sandy. Good luck to you.”
“You sure are a kind man,” Sandy simpered and Joe wondered what she would say if she could read his mind.
Chapter Sixteen
Amanda looked down at her plate of food and knew that she would never get through it. She’d hardly eaten anything all day and, even if her appetite had returned a little, it had been crushed again when her mother informed her that Garth Walton was going to be taking his evening meal with them.
Her parents never had company so early on in the week, and Amanda knew that her father was becoming more determined to have his way.
When her mother had given her away as she was always bound to do, Peter Hargreaves had been incandescent with rage. Amanda had never seen her father so angry in her life, so much so that she had begun to fear that he would finally strike her for the first time ever.
Throughout the hours of his anger, Amanda had not been allowed to speak at all. She had tried to tell him about Joe Macey, but he shouted her down; he did not need to know anything about Joe Macey because she was never going to see him again. And if he had to stop her going out of the house until the day she was married, then that was what he was going to do.
He had certainly started as he meant to go on, forbidding her to leave the house to go to work on Monday morning and returning later to tell her that she no longer had a job in the diner. If she needed something to do, she could help her mother about the house or on the vegetable plot, nothing more.
Worse than any of it, he had turned Bess away from the house on Sunday night, having already declared her to be an ally in all of this, to be assisting Amanda in her tawdry deception. Her father had carried on and on until, in the end, Amanda had almost felt ashamed of herself, as if she had truly done something wrong and indecent.
It was only the long and sleepless hours of the nighttime in which she had fully returned to herself. Her anger was threatening to consume her, almost setting her on fire and ready to consume all around her in its wake. By the time Garth Walton took his place at the table, secretly looking her up and down as he did so, Amanda Hargreaves was just about ready to blow.
“Something wrong with the food, Amanda?” her father snapped when she did not pick up her knife and fork when everybody else began to eat.
“There is nothing wrong with the food, Father, I am just not hungry.”
“You must eat something, my dear,” her mother said in a cajoling and motherly fashion.
But Caroline Hargreaves would not meet her daughter’s eyes; she could pretend all she liked in front of company, but she knew she had hurt Amanda beyond all repair. She had betrayed her; she had turned her back on her own daughter.
“I am not hungry, Mother,” she said, using the epitaph against her; only a kind and caring mother deserved to be warmly called Mama by her child.
“And how are things on the Walton farm, Garth?” Peter Hargreaves spoke in a rather too jolly voice, hiding his awkward concern that his daughter was about to do or say something which would leave his plans in tatters.
“Very well, Mr. Hargreaves. With this weather, I suppose no farm could fail to do well.” As Garth spoke, Amanda glared at him. Here he was all respectability and pleasantness when she knew him to be something entirely different. “But our farm is expanding all the time, as you know, and things just get better and better.” His self-satisfactio
n made her want to lift her plate and tip hot potatoes into his lap.
Amanda sat with her hands in her own lap, stoically refusing to pick up her knife and fork. In the end, her father could not ignore it any longer.
“Don’t be willful, child,” he said, his forced air of dismissiveness hiding his own anger. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry, Father.”
“Then eat something for me, Amanda,” Garth said, smiling at her brightly and clearly convinced that he, the handsome Garth Walton, could cajole the willful filly.
“Why would I do that?” she spat back.
“Amanda, mind your tongue,” her father warned in a dangerously low voice.
“Yes, Amanda, Garth is only trying to be nice to you, even though you are behaving so badly,” her mother added and Amanda turned to glare at her.
“Yes, Garth behaves so well in front of my parents. What a pity you both could not hear him demeaning me in the diner, calling me a peach and suggesting that he could find a way to put a smile on my face while all his friends sniggered and looked me up and down.” Her father looked furious, but with Amanda, not Garth. “Really Garth, you ought to be consistent. If you’re going to treat me with so little respect outside of this house, maybe you ought to have the courage to do the same inside it.”
“Garth, you must forgive her,” Peter Hargreaves said in a steady tone. “She’s been in a mood ever since I forbid her to work in the diner any longer. She is taking it out on everybody, you mustn’t pay her any attention whatsoever. She’ll soon learn how to behave; I promise you that.”
“Of course,” Garth said, smiling and joining forces with her father.
“Women,” Peter said and laughed a little too heartily. “They are like unbroken horses, Garth. But a firm hand in life soon brings them under control.”
Amanda felt hot and sick; was her father really suggesting that Garth could be the man to do just that? To control her? And for his part, Garth looked satisfied again, warming to the idea.
