Chapter 6
Abner struggled against the reins. Just for a minute, but still the rebellion had been there. In the last week, Theo hadn’t exercised him enough. Today, the horse wanted to run.
He’d been sent out of town to Widow Perkins’ farm for a signature. Holding the horse in check, Theo managed to arrive looking presentable instead of windblown. Now, after he’d left the farm, he allowed Abner to have his head and enjoy a run.
Throwing back his head to laugh, Theo knew he was enjoying the time as much as the animal beneath him. Work at the law office had been tedious, and the atmosphere between the two men remained stilted. With nothing in common, they spoke only when a business matter needed clarifying.
He didn’t rush back to town. After all, he’d only have to admit to Melvin that the widow had refused to sign. In fact, after looking over the document with her, he had advised her not to do so. The paper smelled of land grab. Someone had tried to make it appear that she would lose her land so she should grab for this pittance being offered to her.
Theo had assured the woman and her nearly grown sons that, as long as they stayed on the claim another year, the land would be theirs. They had a right to inherit and still prove up the claim.
Was Melvin behind this? The mystery called for a little digging into the files.
Silver flashed at the corner of his eye. Bright sunlight reflected off the water of a strong-moving stream.
“Perfect place to relax and think, don’t you think?” he leaned to pat the horse’s sweating neck.
Slowing Abner, he dismounted and led the horse to the water. After his satisfying run, the animal lowered his head immediately, dipping a dark velvet nose into the cold water.
A laugh, like chimes tickled by the wind, drifted to him. Curious, he tied Abner and walked along the bank toward the siren’s call.
Rounding a bend in the stream, he had a clear view for quite a distance. No one sat on the bank. Where did the voice come from, then?
Backtracking, he noticed the narrow tributary. A much smaller stream fed into this one. Curious and determined to put a face with the voice that was now singing, he pushed through bushes and twining prairie grass.
A pool surrounded by a rockface and trees! The scene was like a setting in some fairytale or a myth. Would he stumble onto a Diana bathing?
Bathing! First a head and then pearly white shoulders popped up in the center of the pool. A shapely back followed. For that brief moment, he was mesmerized. But just for a moment.
She opened her eyes and gasped. Too late he realized that, like any gentleman should, he didn’t turn away or make himself known.
Quickly doing that, he struggled to mend his error. “Uh, miss.” His tongue seemed unusually thick. Odd since he didn’t feel embarrassed at seeing the Venus rise from the water. “Pardon me. I didn’t realize you were bathing.”
At his first sound, she shrieked. He made out several splashes and imagined her leaving the pool. That was as far as he allowed his mind to go. He worked hard to control any thoughts of what she might look like as she rose fully from the water.
As she sputtered behind him, Theo began to softly recite the familiar verse from Philippians. Determined to stay pure, he’d often repeat this verse when faced with temptation. It was a habit his pastor had taught him as the man mentored Theo in the faith during his teens.
“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely—”
Lovely! What he’d seen surpassed lovely. And the circumstances were odd. He’d been compelled to seek her out. As if they were meant to meet today.
“You know, mister, this pool’s on my land. Makes you a trespasser!” Her musical voice held more challenge than indignation to it. After peeking at her, he’d expected the woman to rage at him. Instead, she seemed to be prodding him into conversation.
Fine. He’d take the bait.
“So, you’re a landowner, are you? Perhaps this is really your husband’s land or your father’s?” His voice gentled as he teased the nymph. Fabric rustled behind him. Though he waited, she didn’t answer.
Summoning all of the charm his mother had taught him to cultivate, he asked over his shoulder, “May I turn around, miss?”
That wind chime laughter floated to him on the soft June breeze. “I rather like making you wait.”
That struck him as odd. She’d had an almost hillbilly-like drawl to her words. Suddenly her diction changed, sounding like a phrase from a Jane Austen novel. Curiosity piqued, he wanted to keep her talking.
“Please and may I?” he coaxed. “I’d like to introduce myself.”
The silence was a heavy pressure in his ears as he strained to hear anything from her. It was as if she’d become a frozen statue. Then a heavy sigh escaped the woman.
“Of course, how silly of me to forget that we’ve never met. The customs must be observed.” The words seemed overly formal for a wooded glade. Definitely not second nature to her. His mind, trained to spot deception or error, picked up on that fact.
Fabric swished through tall grass before a finger tapped his shoulder. Had he not heard her approaching, he might have jumped at the sudden touch. As it was, he felt a jolt that was far from alarm zing through him at the single finger on his shoulder.
“You may turn now.” In the tones of a coldly polite matron, she continued, “Thank you for your consideration.”
He turned and met a towel. She’d wrapped it around her wet head.
His eyes looked down just a bit and connected with ice blue eyes. The color should have made them cold. Not these eyes. Humor and something else that he couldn’t identify made these eyes snap with warmth. Maybe the something else was challenge. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure.
He was sure, though, that he wanted to get to know her. Life and joy radiated from his forest nymph.
Get to know her. That reminded him. He was supposed to be introducing himself, not staring like a young boy.
Smiling, he doffed his hat. “I am Theo Edwards.”
The woman sneaked a hand out of the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. “It is a pleasure, Mr. Edwards. I am Miss Ginger Snap.”
Unable to resist since she used drawing room manners, Theo took a hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. The smell of the water as well as the woman’s own sweet scent filled his senses as he leaned over the creamy hand.
Her face was anything but white as Theo straightened. Red flags tinged her cheeks, as if no man had ever made her so much attention. Perhaps that was a sign she wasn’t married.
A very different question came to him then. “Are you related to Guy Snap?” That young man couldn’t be her husband, could he?
She ducked her head as she muttered an answer. “Guy Snap is my brother.”
He nodded and went back to what worried his mind before—a husband. Now why did that matter so much to him? Without thinking, he looked into her eyes and whispered, “Are you married?”
His question broke a spell. The girl stepped away from him, still clutching her blanket, and giggled. “Now, Mr. Edwards, didn’t I just introduce myself as a miss?”
He shook his head to clear it. She misunderstood and grumbled, “I did so say it. You callin’ me a liar?”
The twang returned to her words like a dash of cinnamon on a sweet roll. “I like the honest way you just spoke. Don’t pretend with me, Miss Snap, please.”
The stiffness of her spine eased with the toothy smile she flashed. “You lookin’ for a country girl to sweet talk, Mr. Edwards?” Though her words teased him, he caught the current of worry carried along with them.
Theo didn’t have to work to produce the expression of sincerity he felt sure must be clear on his face. He held his hands palm up in front of him in a gesture of pleading. “Never, Miss Snap. I’m looking for the girl God means to be my helpmate. Nothing more.”
“Can’t be me, then
.” Her head shook as she turned to leave.
Stepping forward as if to follow her, Theo called out. “Stop. Don’t go yet.”
She turned, and a wavy red tendril slipped from the towel by her ear. “What do you want?” Her voice wasn’t annoyed. She was, he thought, genuinely confused by his plea.
“Why can’t you be the wife God intends for me?”
She gave him the ghost of a wistful smile and shook her head. “I’ve memorized a lot of verses. I know the Lord can’t be pleased with my life right now. Why would he bless me with a good and honorable husband?”
Step Pappy glared over his shoulder as “Guy” lagged behind him. “Come on, boy! Got corn to cultivate at home. We need to get this done.”
Ginger dreaded facing Theo Edwards. She didn’t know why Wiley Snap insisted they come to the law office today. Melvin Edwards made it plain before that he wouldn’t give Guy the deed.
Yesterday, afraid that she would see disgust in Theo’s eyes after her confession, she’d run off. His deep voice had pleaded with her to stay. She couldn’t. Why waste more time on their disastrous “first” meeting?
Stepping inside the office, she saw Theo approach and pulled her hat a little lower over her eyes. He’d already met her as Guy. It still amazed her that he hadn’t recognized her yesterday.
“Good morning. How may I help you?”
At the polite greeting, Wiley snickered. Hitching up his drooping pants, the older man pointed a finger in Theo’s face. “Well, name’s Wiley Snap. You can get me the deed what’s to my stepson’s farm.”
Ignoring the older man’s rude finger, Theo invited them into the small office. She remembered it from that day they moved onto the farm. It was the day that really started the lie that trapped her.
Theo’s brow rose as he looked from Ginger’s hunched figure to the man seated beside her. “You say Guy is your stepson. Did you adopt both him and his sister? I notice you share a last name.”
With a harrumph, Wiley snorted. “Don’t see as that’s yer business, but I was cousin to Guy’s dear departed pappy. Married up with the widow.”
Ginger remembered Wiley pestering her mother until the woman gave in and married him. Not even a year passed before she was dead, and the man suddenly inherited her small farm. And snared her in this lie.
Though she tried to keep her eyes downward so he wouldn’t connect “Guy” with the woman from yesterday, she saw Theo’s face tighten with concern. Evidently, he’d noticed her frown at Step Pappy’s explanation. Well, she was a liar who deserved no sympathy.
Yesterday, she’d made the lie worse by claiming to be related to the person she presented to the world—Guy. Sure, she really had had a brother named Guy. When Theo had asked if she was related to Guy, she knew he meant the person she now pretended to be. One more falsehood!
Thinking about that deception, she stifled a sigh and watched Theo move around the small desk. From under the hat she’d refused to remove upon entering the building, she admired his straight back and strong shoulders. Ginger would never expect a city boy or a lawyer to look strong enough to do a hard day’s work. Melvin Edwards’ thin frame certainly didn’t look capable of it.
Theo’s body, on the other hand, showed that he was active and fit. Very fit, she thought, with another stifled sigh. One of admiration this time.
While Theo silently read through the papers in Guy Snap’s file, Ginger remembered the day before. After telling this wonderful man that she couldn’t be the wife meant for him, she’d run across the fields as if her lie was chasing her. It was guilt, not the deceit, that chased at her heels.
All through supper, she’d considered ways to escape the lie her stepfather trapped her in the day he cut her hair. She could run away. What would happen to Willard, then? Would the family lose the farm if she weren’t around?
She’d even thought about speaking with Melvin Edwards, confessing that she was Guy’s sister. Maybe he would allow them to still live on the farm since she would be Guy’s heir, if a girl could inherit anything. She didn’t know for sure if they could.
It would be better to run away, she’d decided. Then, she’d looked across the table at Step Pappy. With a sinking sensation in her belly, she feared she couldn’t leave Willard or the new baby that Amy May carried. Someone had to look out for the innocents in their family.
Anyhow, she wouldn’t make a final decision until after the Independence celebration. Ginger wanted to wear a fine dress and, hopefully, dance with Theo.
He’d noticed her yesterday. Had actually seemed interested. Imagine him considering her as the wife God had sent him. Excitement stirred in her chest at the thought of marrying a fine man like him. It was an impossible dream, but for one moment she imagined it.
“—And so, according to Mr. Edwards’ notes, I may not release the deed to you.” Theo’s firm voice carried a note of finality. She’d been imagining a fancy life as his wife and had missed the entire conversation.
Wiley Snap rose with a growl. “Might be, I’d better find my own lawyer. I’m smellin’ a rat what’s tryin’ to get a hold of this boy’s property.”
He rose and leaned his round gut against the desk as he shook his fist in front of Theo. “Some of the boys what visit me have told tale of Edwards pushin’ young’uns and widows to sign over their land.”
Pulling his head backward, away from the fist, Theo also rose. “Do you remember any names, Mr. Snap? I’d be interested in pursuing this. I can search the files if you can give me names.”
The older man straightened, surprised. Then he rubbed a hand over his grizzled jaw. “Well, I was half-lit when they told me ‘bout ‘em.”
At Theo’s silent stare, the older man agreed. “If you be serious, I’ll give you them names.”
Pencil scratched across paper as Wiley Snap recited the three names. Then, he told Theo approximately when the families moved from the area. Finished, he rose and harrumphed with importance.
Thanking him, Theo shook the man’s hand and then Guy’s. He gave Ginger a surprised look as his hand enclosed hers. Did he feel the same tingle that rippled through her at the touch?
This masquerade had to come to an end!
Chapter 7
Emerald taffeta gleamed in the sun coming through the parlor window. The material seemed finer than anything Ginger had ever seen.
She reached across the sofa and reverently touched the dress lying in Mrs. Hooper’s lap. “You can’t really want to give me yer dress?”
The woman made a tutting sound. “Your not yer, my dear. Remember to practice the speech from Miss Austen’s book.”
Coloring, Ginger nodded and then stopped, objecting. “Theo Edwards likes the way I speak. When he caught me in the altogether that day, he told me so.”
Mrs. Hooper sighed, as if something pained her. “Now Ginger, he may like it. That doesn’t mean, however, that you won’t benefit from practicing polished speech.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will strive to make you proud of me.” She worked to keep the words smooth while using a formal tone.
Mrs. Hooper rewarded her with a warm smile before rising. “Go through to the small bedroom off of the kitchen and change. I will meet you in my sewing room.”
As the younger woman turned to leave, Mrs. Hooper stopped her. “Oh, I put a corset and petticoats on the bed in there. You will definitely need them with this dress.”
Her voice held a note of concern. “Do you think you’ll need my help? The corset does hook in the front.”
Beauregard chose that moment to fly into the parlor. At Mrs. Hooper’s question, he started to cry, “Help! Help!”
Holding up her arm for him, Mrs. Hooper settled the bird near her. “Shush now, you! No one needs help.”
Moving from one foot to the other on her arm, Beauregard squawked before saying, “Shush, bird! Shush, bird!” Since he heard it so often, it was another of his phrases that he loved to repeat.
Ginger laughed and assured the woman. “I’ll be
fine. You can head to the sewing room. I’ll go there once I’ve changed.”
It amazed Ginger that she felt so exhausted after pushing herself to speak properly around Mrs. Hooper. Her visits had been less enjoyable since she’d asked the woman to ready her for the upcoming dance.
Mouse followed her with his limping gait. At the door of the small bedroom, she shooed him away. “Go on with ya. I don’t need help changin’.”
The dog tipped his head before plopping down by the door. As Ginger moved to enter the room, Mouse suddenly tore off toward the front of the house. Minutes later, howling started as the clock struck the hour.
Laughing as she muttered, “Crazy dog!” Ginger removed her costume. Laying the boy’s clothing and bindings on the bed, she struggled into the corset. Having never owned one, she groaned as each hook seemed to take more of her breath away. Why did women voluntarily wear these contraptions?
The emerald gown caressed her skin as she slipped the taffeta over her head. Ivory buttons ran down the front. Across the room, a shaving mirror hung on the wall. Ginger watched her reflection change with each button.
The gown became more fitted to her as she secured it. In the end, she stared at the elegant woman in the mirror. Small cap sleeves hung off her shoulders and ended in fine, ivory lace. Lace also edged the rounded neckline of the gown that drooped, needing some fitting.
All that seemed missing was a fancy hairstyle. Maybe Mrs. Hooper could figure a way for them to use the braid Ginger kept carefully wrapped away in her small trunk.
A small bowl of hairpins sat on the dresser. Using them, she pinned up her nearly shoulder-length hair into curls on the top of her head that she’d formed around her fingers. Her tresses had grown over the last five months. Ginger kept her head carefully hidden under her hat so Step Pappy wouldn’t take it into his head to cut her hair again.
The curls added to her height and seemed to lend her elegance. Or maybe it was the fine dress she wore that made her feel like a lady. Here she was pretending to be someone else, again. This time, she didn’t care. It would be for one night only.
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