by KQ Salsbury
“Always.” He clears his throat, then seems to chuckle as an afterthought. “But for now, I desire you join me in preparing the list.”
Mr. Judson sits in his favorite chair and I have learned that he wants me to sit for this exercise as well, so I find a spot on the nearby stool. He settles the list early so I might go straight to town from my home in the morning rather than doubling back from their house.
Handing him the notes from my pockets, I nearly jerk away at the warmth of his fingers. How dreadfully cold mine must have felt to him.
He reads my markings, making little sounds and humming. “Well, I can think of nothing that you may have overlooked.”
“Thank you, Sir.” My cheeks warm at his praise.
“Now, I have noted that the livery boy seems to have an eye for you. Do you require a chaperone or are his advances welcome?”
I blush. It is true enough that Milton has been making himself handy when I go to town, but he is not for me. I am not for him. Something along those lines.
“No, Sir.”
He tilts his head, inviting further comment.
“On both counts, no,” I say as brightly as I can.
“Very well. We’ve been so fortunate to have you here. Perhaps it is a waste of time for me to double check you.” He smiles over to me. “Surely you know better than I what is needed at this point.”
“If it is all the same to you, Mr. Judson, Sir, I would feel better if you were to always assure us both that I’ve not forgotten something. I do want please your family. But, I’m sure that when it comes to certain things, only you know what you want.”
He seems lost in thought for a moment – I cannot imagine why – and then hands me back the list. “I suppose that is the truth of it.”
In town, as the orders of flour and feed are filled, I mill about the stores and clusters of people gathered about. There’s a shortage of yeast but a surplus of canning supplies. I wish I had stocked up on yeast when it was cheap so I could barter now.
I also wish I had not taken a moment to step out for fresh air right now.
Across the way, under the mercantile awning, the banker’s middle daughter (swirled in a pink confection of a dress so frilly and sweet I may get a toothache just from the sight of her) hangs off Nathan’s arm as well as his every word.
She’s so virtuous…looking.
Blonde curls pulled up high and rouge in just the perfect spots.
My eyes fall down to my navy muslin dress. Dark and dull, but not stained. I wear my best to church and to town when I represent the Judsons.
My very best, and yet it looks like a potato sack rung through a pig sty compared to hers. I pick at my cracked knuckle.
This is the first time in months I’ve actually had to endure the sight of Nathan keeping company with another.
To be sure, when I first came to work for them, nary a day went by that some young lady wasn’t to be seen basking in his attention.
Near shameless.
Then, a change. I reckon word got out about him working his way through the lot of them or whatnot, because Nathan no longer let on who he saw or when or where.
But, lest I forget, it still goes on.
I know because he always manages to be unaccounted for at times.
I know because he took to asking for date baskets or whatnot a few weeks ago.
And I know today, beyond all doubt, because he is with one now.
A slight tingle, an almost-burn, and I look up.
Nathan is looking at me.
He knows I’ve been watching.
Slowly, never unlocking his eyes from mine, he kisses her hand.
What comes next I do not know because I am back inside the store before I’ve even thought to do so. When I chance to peer out the window again, she is still there in all her pink glory, but Nathan is nowhere to be seen.
“Why the long face?” Spinning in surprise at my sister’s voice, I step back into a quiet general store aisle to join her. “Cynthia! What brings you here?”
“Just making my rounds,” she says, swinging a smaller bundle of laundered goods playfully.
Even though we see one another at our house every eve, only when we are out do I feel we can be ourselves. I hug her warmly and she kisses the top my head before breaking away and returning to work.
She winces as one of the lye-cracked splits in her hands catches on my dress. I try to hide my frown; she’s already all-too aware of the toll her job takes on her.
Knowingly, Cynthia looks over my shoulder and out to where Nathan had been standing moments ago; I know I haven’t fooled her, she must have observed me watching.
“Dearest, I fear you’ll do yourself a harm when that Judson boy finally marries. Promise me you won’t try to mend a broken heart by running off with the likes of the skinny livery boy if he makes an offer.”
I give her what I hope is a withering look before she turns to walk away.
When she reaches the end of the aisle, she turns and calls back to me, “Please be seeing if Mr. Harrison Judson has any use for me, if you’d be so kind.” She winks and laughs, and to anyone but me it might seem like a casual exchange. But, I know how serious she is and how much it means to her to feel a part of something stable, how much she is herself there, how much it pains her to leave. At night, I often hear her sniffle into the mattress when she thinks I am asleep.
Once done shopping, my heart still races and my mind fights the memory of Nathan earlier, I load the last of the goods.
Near the sewing notions, I mark a new and finely dressed older gentleman. The talk about town today has been that he’s looking to settle and brought his wife and daughter along. No more than a year ago, local folk might’ve sniggered in the wake of such a dandy, as they surely did when Harrison Judson and his brood came to town; however, Mr. Harrison proved himself a crafty farmer and more solid than his gleaming carriage would have had one think.
Just as the total is tallied, the new gentleman approaches me lead by a familiar face, George, the local blacksmith.
“Elizabeth, fine day isn’t it?”
“A fine day well enough, George, to have begun so long ago that now’s near time to say it has been a fine day,” I tease and am treated to one of his trademark grins. “What is it that you require of me?”
“Oh, can’t a fella greet a lovely young lady?”
“Pssh!” I would smack his arm if it were proper. “Yes a fella can, but you have a gentleman in tow and I suspect his time far more valuable than mine. Further, I am certain you’d rather being inquiring after my sister.”
He smiles, blushes a bit. He has been faithfully trying to find reasons to hold the door open or any other interaction with Cynthia for well-on six months or more. It’s a shame their paths do not appeared to have crossed this day.
Clearing his throat, he says, “This is Mr. Montgomery and he is quite keen to meet with his old friend, Mr. Judson. Would you mind if he follows you when you’ve finished your errands.”
Well, this is interesting. I am at a loss as to whether it is my place to show a man of whom I’ve never heard of my employers’ home…but neither am I certain I can properly deny a gentleman’s request.
George must see the concern on my face as he looks aghast for a moment. It must have just occurred to me that he’s set up for me to play escort to a strange man.
“Of course.” I right my posture. “I should be done straight away.”
Mr. Montgomery bids his family goodbye and I try to figure out how to spread what I had planned for tonight into a meal fit for a newly arrived, Eastern guest and friend of Mr. Judson.
Chapter 4
The shouting is almost more than I can bear.
I take young Sarah out to the barn and we look for new kittens. A bid to get out of earshot, but it for was naught. The men’s blustering is clear as a bell.
It seems young Nathan had made an arrangement of promise to Mr. Montgomery’s daughter years ago.
“
I was a silly, short-pants schoolboy! It was long ago! How can I be held to this?”
“Nathan Judson,” Mr. Montgomery bellows, “it matters not to me when you made this arrangement and I do not want to think what manner of indiscretion it accompanied. The fact remains that my daughter is of marrying age and promised to you for some time now. Fate has brought my family to this area and this union will happen.”
“Father?” I had never heard Nathan be anything but smooth and cheerful until this moment of pleading. His voice cracks.
“Son, I had high hopes that you’d do the right thing in these past months and take a wife. Lord knows I have done all but giftwrap one for you, but you’ve dragged your feet for whatever reason. I suspect the thrill of a few stolen kisses beyond the barn seems foolhardy to you – finally. If you’d married, this would be moot.”
I cannot stomach another word and little Sarah looks as though her eyes might burst from her head. It would be more than I could bear to listen to the actual moment of Nathan becoming truly and utterly unattainable – and to a marriage he seemed distraught to entertain made it all the more worse.
I am not stupid. I knew this day would come. That he would marry. I knew it would not be me. But the hear it and see the deal happening, to know I would not see his face or hear his voice or have even the paltry moments when he chooses to share his day with me is more than I can bear.
It is acutely painful to think he would go off to a life and wife that were not his choosing; I’d only ever wished him happiness.
“Nathan can be very stupid sometimes for such a smart person,” Sarah whispers as we head to the remotest part of the yard to do some laundry a day early.
“He is a man and they are a frightful sort.” I try to make light of the day, somehow. “Always wanting more than their lot for as long as they can have it.”
Sarah kicks a stone. “He would have been well matched with you.”
My heart skips a beat. Breathe. “Sarah, dearest, your brother would no more look at me for settling than a pudding.”
“He could look at you no less.” She shrugs and grabs her end of the sheet. “And he says pudding is delicious.”
I resist the urge to break her romantic spirit by pointing out that looking in the direction of a full plate of food is different than looking for a sweetheart.
As she stretches to reach the line, I notice a pink smear where she was holding the sheet. “Sarah! Whatever have you been into?” She hangs her head and from her skirt pocket she pulls a jelly roll.
I could not be more shocked.
“Where…where did you get that?” But I know the answer. I just cannot believe it.
“Um…well, he told me not to tell you…”
I yank the dirty sheet back down before it attracts pests. “Nathan?” Wad the fabric. “Why would he think I should care if you ended up with one of the treats I packed in his basket?”
“He says you might not keep packing him baskets if you were to find out he always shares them with me.”
I don’t know what to think. Did he not see a woman for lunch yesterday? Always shares them with me…. I try to recall the time I actually saw anyone at the house…
“He says he just doesn’t want your cooking to go to waste,” she says eagerly, trying to fix something that may not even be broken.
I shake my head and start hanging the next wet sheet. “I just don’t understand. What’s he playing at, giving me more work for no reason?”
“Who knows?” Sarah shrugs and licks her sticky fingers. “Brothers are weird.”
When we return later in the evening, we are treated the sight of Mr. Montgomery’s wagon stirring up a cloud of dust as it thunders down the lane.
“Elizabeth!”
Never before have I heard Mr. Harrison Judson raise his voice.
My lungs feel as though they are in the smithy’s vice. Sarah runs around to the backdoor, her face contorted in concern. I lift my skirt and hustle up the porch steps to where he stands with his back turned.
Eventually, I finally find enough air to speak. “Yes, Mr. Judson?”
He stands straight, staring at the door frame. Though I cannot see his face, a tension radiates from him. “It seems that the time has come to end your current services here with us.”
A mare kick to the gut could feel no worse.
Whatever shall I do? Beg Ma to keep me without my contribution? “But, Sir, Mr. Judson Sir, I…I did not know what to do other than bring Mr. Montgomery here. He told everyone in town he was your old friend. I meant no harm-“
”Elizabeth-“
“No! Please!” I reach up and nearly touch his back before I remember my place.
A glimpse of Nathan, wary-eyed, flashes from the side window. He is listening to my dismissal. I try to burn what may be my last image of him in my mind.
“What can I do? Pay me less? Half my pay…or more. Please, I cannot g-“
Mr. Judson spins and grabs my shoulders, the impropriety of it all forgotten as I realize I was truly, physically reeling.
“Elizab-“
“I beg you, do not forever part me from…” I catch myself just in time. “…Sarah! What of Miss Sarah? Please I care for your daughter so!”
“Elizabeth! Shush. Now.” His palms press into my shoulders and I turn up to his blue eyes. “You’ll not be cast back to that ungrateful woman you have the misfortune to call mother.”
I am awash with shame. “Where ever would I go then?”
“Circumstances have changed this evening. You misunderstand me. This should be your home and should have been for some time now.” Suddenly, the world is off-kilter because Mr. Judson is holding my hands gently within his own.
“I’ve thought this over and find it to be the best course.” He lifts my chin to have my eyes meet his. “Marry me.”
I feel myself obediently nod my ascent while a large, dangerous sound echoes from deep inside the house.
Chapter 5
News of my betrothal has not set well with my mother.
I’d rather expected her to be relieved. She’s made every effort toward assurance and reminder to me of what the burden of my existence has meant to her for so long.
Instead, she cleaned my plow and moaned about my disloyalty to her and my sister then uncorked a new jug. Another round in her ceaseless bender.
Mr. Judson has urged that we make no public mention of our arrangement. I believe he is holding out hope to find a resolution to Nathan’s situation with Miss Montgomery, though I do not know what it might be. Their relationship – for want of a better term – is also not public knowledge. I do not think Nathan has even spoken to the young lady since her move here.
It would not look good for either party if it is publicized and then dissolved.
In either case, Mr. Judson feels it would be best to not detract from our engagement by announcing in this current climate. He knows more of public opinion than I.
And, truth be told, I am not ready for the questions and whispers that will come my way when it is known in town that we are to be wed.
Mother, however, has taken upon herself to explain one reason to limit scandal. “Ol’ fancy pants been proddin’ round and got you in a family way, now didn’t he?” she cackles.
I am offended, but it is no worse than other things mother spits at me most days. “No, Ma. Mr. Judson is an honorable man.”
“Oh, it were his pretty son been bending you over an’ now he cain’t be lowered to marry ya, now? Cain’t say as I blame him, but his pa prolly cain’t stand the idea o’ you raisin’ his blood on a whore-maid’s wages. Now, fetch me my cup.”
Why bother explaining to her that someone sees value where she has never?
It is not lost on me that this is the closest she’s ever come to explaining the birds and bees.
I hope it does not condemn me that I cannot make myself fret over my mother’s welfare.
My sister is another matter entirely. Poor Cynthia.
“I wish you well, Elizabeth, please don’t think otherwise. I just…” Cynthia says, doing our familiar balancing act of cleaning enough for mother but not disturbing her. “…well, I never thought Mr. Judson fancied you.” She is quiet for bit. Stokes the fire. “He does cut a swell, you have to admit and he is wise, isn’t he? He knew you’d accept the first man you laid eyes upon once Nathan was off the market.”
“Yes, he’s handsome to be sure. If it makes him wise to think like you, then he is,” I try to joke. I know Cynthia is worried about being left alone here now, and doubly concerned that she has entered old maid territory.
But, a well-placed word in the right ear should set the ball in motion nicely. Hopefully, Cynthia may wed the blacksmith before even I make my vows.
My vows…to Harrison Judson.
He is a fine man. Fine in many ways.
I have been looking at him with different eyes since he proposed.
I have been trying not to look at Nathan at all. Trying and failing.
I am honored – perhaps more than honored, but the proper term escapes me – that Mr. Judson would consider me.
There is the ever-present obviousness that he has surely proposed more out of some misguided sense of duty or honor. I’ve gone about the day since in a bit of a haze. This morning, I burned the bread as a result of my distraction. The time has come for clarification…as long as I have the nerve to ask for it.
“Sir,” I ask, rapping on the open door of his room.
He sets aside a book. “Yes, Elizabeth? Is all well?” He looks at me with no small measure of concern.
“Oh, yes.” I swallow, feeling foolish suddenly. “I do not mean to bother you.”
“You are not a bother, Elizabeth. In fact, it is my hope we might begin spending more time together. I should like to invite you to sit with me as I read from time to time.”
He gives a small smile. I’ve never much noted it before. It is a pleasant smile.
I cannot help but look briefly down at the floorboards, a rush of unexpected shyness or some unknown emotion running through me.
“I should like that very much, Sir.”
