by KQ Salsbury
Well, on this we can agree.
“To be sure,” I say. “What would be made of that, if I were to sit beside you?” I cannot make light of this now, the realness of how wrong this encounter is coming into focus. “I am the help.”
“You were my choice!” His fist pounds the wooden rail.
His voice echoes in the empty night. Then, silence.
I watch him sag more with each passing moment. Then, finally, he speaks so softly I can barely hear him.
“Help be damned. You were my choice.”
The world seems to swirl in front of me. Before I can stop myself, I hear words spilling from my mouth. “I may be skilled at many things, Nathan Judson, but mind reader I am not. None but a dullard would think you favored them when a throng of admirers was paraded by on your arm for nigh on a year.”
His eyes widen and he spins further away from the light, pulling at his hair and pacing. “I saw no one but you since the thaw. But you would not see me.”
He leans on rail and looks out over the land.
“In desperation, I tried to court others again. To move beyond you. They amounted to no more than foolish attempts to see if you could come to be jealous. All the more foolish that I was so smitten that I could remain blinded to where your actual affections actually lie.”
“Was your heart always taken?” He near shouts, looks quickly back toward where his father sleeps.
I want to step closer, but his outburst leaves me rooted where I stand. “What care you about my heart?”
“More than I should say.”
The lantern creaks in my hand.
“Nathan,” I begin, then pause wondering if I should continue. Throwing caution to the wind, I cannot imagine a moment more suited to confession. “If ever I thought you would look upon me with affection, you would have met the same in my eyes.”
He steps, cautiously, forward. One step. Two.
Just when he is close enough that an outstretched arm might touch the other if either of us took that leap of faith, the front door opens.
It is his father.
My betrothed.
My chest compresses. He deserves better than me indulging my curiosities at the revelations of his son.
“Elizabeth? Nathan?” His voice is groggy. “Why are you outside at this hour? What is the meaning of this?”
Nathan steps back and holds the door. “No meaning, Father. I returned in time to see Elizabeth retrieving my sister’s wayward books.”
Though it is hard to distinguish his features in the lamp light, Harrison seems unperturbed and looks to Nathan and then myself. “Nothing to report then?”
“Nothing more than a coyote beyond the property line. Goodnight Father. Elizabeth,” Nathan says, and ducks inside.
I swallow thickly. What a terrible fiancée I am. An Ingrate.
“Elizabeth,” Harrison says softly, his hand on the door knob, but not opening again as yet. “Am I to understand that you ventured outside at this hour and encountered Nathan here by happenstance?”
Oh, he suspects. My heart races. But, I take some solace that I can answer honestly. “Yes, that is so. Miss Sarah asked me to collect her books.”
He remains paused at the door and appears to be selecting his words carefully.
“Sarah’s books are far less important than your safekeeping. Going forward, if I am unavailable, make every effort to have Nathan escort you in similar circumstances.”
What an exceedingly terrible idea.
Chapter 9
The most sleepless of nights. Turn and toss.
Then still. Oh, so still.
Hold my breath.
In the stillness, a thousand times I think I might hear Nathan move around in his room.
Or never once.
It might well be the night wind.
Dawn goes down to daylight. A lifetime of early risings finds me up and busying myself about the house long before.
The day is new, my residence changed, and I will set a place for myself at the family table, but little else seems altered.
Because knowledge changes nothing. I almost wish I did not know. That I’d remained unaware. That I could believe Nathan never thought of me as I think of him.
Almost.
But I am selfish. It is more than I dared dream and I will hold it close and tight.
Because nothing more can be done. He would no more dishonor his father than would I.
Harrison and Sarah can be heard within their rooms. There is no sign of Nathan until his plate is ready.
Breakfast goes off without a hitch. At first, there is little conversation beyond Sarah’s usual, cheerful chatter.
Just as she finishes telling of an especially colorful dream about badgers, raccoons, and caramel squares, Sarah’s narrative takes a sharp turn. “When is the wedding?”
All commotion stops. After a pause, Harrison finishes chewing his mouthful of biscuit before speaking. “Well, I suppose there will be a wedding as soon as all the details are ironed out.”
“Excuse me,” Nathan mutters, scraping his chair along the floor.
Harrison places a hand over his arm, halting his retreat. “Wait. This is family business.”
Reluctantly, Nathan nods. His eyes flash to mine.
“There has been no formal announcement as I’ve been awaiting a resolution to Nathan’s arrangement. Montgomery always was a flannel-mouthed opportunist and I’ve no doubt it was not fate that brought his family here so much as debt. Will you be able to dissuade Tara…Tammy…what is the blasted name of the Montgomery girl?”
Nathan looks nauseated. “Tabitha. That would require I actually speak with her, Father. It is not a meeting I am anxious to make.”
“Anxious or no, there are many lives on hold. Go to town this morning. Break with her by any civil means available to you. Also, deliver a message for Cynthia that I need her here and I will be around to pick her up.”
Quickly, Nathan slides his chair back and slips from his father’s hold. “As you wish.” He looks sharply between Harrison and me. “It is evident how very eager you must be.”
Nathan stalks off and Harrison, smiling, dips another hunk of biscuit into his gravy. “Oh, I believe it takes no effort at all for you imagine how anxious one would be to marry Elizabeth.”
By late afternoon it is unseasonably chilly and the wind remains unrelenting. I chase a stray pair of underdrawers that escapes the line and tumbles across the yard. It finally catches on a thistle bush.
I am still picking free the burrs when Nathan rides up the lane.
I look up to him, high in his saddle, and silently ask if he was able to get out of his predicament.
A small shake of his head and I have my answer: They were not dissuaded.
Without a trace of emotion evident on his face, he nods down at me from atop his horse as he passes. It is the same level of courtesy one might extend to a perfect stranger.
Agitated, I use too much pressure and thorny spires pierce my thumb.
I wasn’t aware that I’d cried out, but almost immediately Nathan is at my side, applying pressure to my finger.
“Thank you, but I did not require your assistance,” I say yanking my hand free of his.
“Suit yourself,” he says tonelessly. “Bleed all over your dress. You’ll have a new, white one soon enough, I suppose.”
“Arrgh! Nathan Judson, you are the most infuriating man in the whole of the Plains!” I yell, and in a fit of pique, chuck the drawers at his chest.
The wind holds them there. Slowly, he looks down at the offending garment splayed across his chest. Then, he looks up to me and, in one motion, he sweeps them away from his body.
A crack in his veneer. A small hint of smile. It is infectious and I cannot suppress a giggle.
He smiles brightly for a moment and brushes my windblown hair from my face. His hand lingers on my cheek.
I look up, unblinking.
His eyes are deepest blue with flecks of gold. Life outside has brought
tiny wrinkles in to frame them.
I try to memorize them. Try to imagine a life where I could look into them every day.
Suddenly, his face falls. He walks away in silence.
Chapter 10
“Elizabeth,” Harrison calls out from where he and Nathan stand within the family the garden. Nathan has his hands in his pockets. He never takes his eyes off his boots.
“Yes?”
“Tonight is a momentous night. I can feel it in the air.” Harrison slaps Nathan on the back twice, jostling a listless Nathan despite the half foot of height he has over his father. “I must run into town and I’ll be bringing your sister back to help on a project. Do tell me it is not too late for you to serve a special dinner? Something as delicious ever but will stick to our ribs?”
I cannot think of a single meal I have ever served the Judsons that was not of the hearty variety, but I agree eagerly and suggest a sweet pudding for dessert.
When they return after lunch, Cynthia remains continuously at Harrison’s beck and call.
If it was not nailed down, they have moved it. I cannot imagine why this was important to do today, or any day for that matter, but he appears incredibly focused.
I want to inquire, but see the most curious thing.
On the steps out front, Harrison works salve into the cracks on Cynthia’s hands then helps her on with a pair of delicate short gloves. I can neither hear nor see their exchange, but he talks quietly with her all the while.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and when I see him go outside, I seek Cynthia for some answers. When I find her, she is opening the door to the closet in Harrison’s room.
“Cynthia, wait!” I rush in and put my hand on the door before she pries it open.
“What’s gotten into you?” Her brow furrows, but she seems more confused than angry.
“That is his late wife’s closet,” I whisper. “I do not believe he’d wish you to go rummaging about in there.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh.” Her gloved hand remains poised upon the handle. “But why would he say…” She stops short.
“What is he having you do all day?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t rightly say. Rearranging the house mostly and moving some items to and from storage. Loading others up for sale, perhaps. Of course, it would go much faster if he weren’t always asking my thoughts on if this looks good there or if that should be sold. As if my opinion matters, right?” She laughs a little. “Seems he’s trying to make more room in the house or clear it out.”
Or, preparing for Nathan to set up his own household.
“Elizabeth,” Cynthia says quietly, her hand still on the doorknob. “Why would he tell me to go through this closet?”
“Because it is high time that folks get off their duffs and do the right thing.” We both jump at Harrison’s voice behind us. He looks softly to us both. “You ladies can surely find better use for those things than feeding moths as they are bound to do hanging untouched.
“Elizabeth, take what you can use, but I believe that, Cynthia, you are closer in size to what… Ester was.” He smiles, a bit wistful, but more at ease than I have ever seen of the few times he’s spoken of his late wife. “Sarah has long ago pulled out a few things for her hope chest. The rest are for you. If it is not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it if you made them over in some fashion so that they do not look like exactly the same dresses.”
Now, I believe I know at least one more reason why Harrison invented a reason for Cynthia to work here today; alterations are best as teamwork.
Later, as instructed, I set the table for five.
Harrison is uncharacteristically absent until just before call to dinner when I see him exiting the part of the house where the bedrooms are located alone and carrying a large bundle.
Nathan encounters him almost immediately and looks at first confused then, upon inspecting the bundle and discovering it consisted of his overnight travel belongings, near livid. Though I know he has to have seen the upset evident on Nathan’s face, Harrison slaps him on the back again jovially and walks away whistling.
Whistling for heaven’s sake!
Chapter 11
If one were to describe dinner as tense, it would be a gross understatement indeed.
Even dear Sarah cottoned quickly to the stressed atmosphere and we were deprived of her usual chatter. A stranger might’ve determined Cynthia mute.
As I clear away the supper dishes, Harrison halts Nathan on the way of out the door. They whisper.
I do not hear the first of what they say, and I swear I do my level best not to eavesdrop, but their voices rise quickly.
“Son, you cannot be serious about this path with Tamilda.”
My ears perk up in spite of myself.
“Tabitha. And you have said yourself that I am without recourse.”
“No, I said if you had married, the old arrangement would be moot.”
“Whatever the case, I can see no reason to forestall the inevitable.”
“You are being short-sighted and stubborn. There is an easy solution to the mess you created for yourself, yet you refuse to see it,” Harrison huffs, an unusual irritation in his voice. “Must I drag you to prudent behavior?”
I miss whatever Nathan says next over the sound of footsteps leading away and presumably toward the front door. Then, his voice is slightly louder. “I cannot tolerate the changes in this household. It now falls to me to pursue a direct and expedient route out of it.”
“Nathan Isaac Judson!” Harrison bellows. It is the second time in as many days that I have heard him yell when he never had before.
My eyes fly wide open and nearly topple the stack of plates I carry.
“Do you take me for a fool, Boy? Do you think I am so aged and feeble-minded that I do not see what happens in my own home?”
“No, Father,” Nathan’s voice is tense, but wavering. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Blast respect, Son! If you walk out of this house and further complicate this situation by entangling yourself deeper Tallulah, you will not only seal your fate, but others’ as well. Do not resign us all to similar misfortune.”
“What are you on about?” Nathan now sounds more than passingly annoyed himself.
“Are you merely being noble or have I reared an irretrievably stupid child?”
“Father,” Nathan talks slowly, unsuccessfully cloaking the irritation in his voice. “As you appear so disappointed in my intelligence and my effort to honor commitments, perhaps you should bestow us all with the grace of your superior wisdom and simply tell me what it is you wish I do? Feel free to use small words.”
Unexpectedly, Harrison laughs. “That may be the most reasonable thing you’ve said in months.”
“Father, you test my resolve. I do not wish for any more animosity between us than…”
“Than what, Son?” Harrison interjects quickly.
“Never mind.”
“Nathan, your blessed pride will not keep you warm at night. You will not say, but long have I known. Perhaps longer than you have yourself.”
I hear steps approach the kitchen and I do my best to jump back on task by submerging my arms in dish water.
“Elizabeth, Nathan has something he needs to say to you.” Harrison holds Nathan by the elbow. In any other moment I might smirk at how very much he looks like a little boy being scolded.
Nathan narrows his eyes at his father. His nostrils flare slightly. “Best wishes on your pending nuptials, Elizabeth. I wish you joy,” he says, running the last few words together.
“Sweet Lord!” Harrison sighs and smacks the doorjamb. “I did not mean for you spew social pleasantries!”
He grabs Nathan by the shoulders and spins him to face me. “If you do not confess your soul and bare your heart to that dear girl whom I love like a daughter right this instant, I will deem you forever unworthy of her and release her from her arrangement with me so one of the salivating young men in town can snatch
her up.”
Nathan, slack-jawed, looks disbelievingly between his father and me.
Doubtless, I am his mirror image.
“Let me be clear with you, Nathan.” Rolling his eyes at the both of us, Harrison continues. “If you do not immediately take the bag I packed for you, throw Elizabeth over your shoulder and find the nearest justice of the peace before old Montgomery comes around with a shotgun to drag you to the alter with his insipid daughter, I will disown you.”
"Sarah! Cynthia!" Harrison calls over his shoulder. "Come say goodbye to Elizabeth."
Nathan still stands, rooted to the spot. My hands are pruning in the stagnant dishwater.
Within moments, the pair appears beside him.
"Well, go on, Boy. Get a wiggle on." Harrison sweeps his hands forward as though he were shooing a cat.
"Go on with what?" Sarah asks.
"Nathan is about to tell Elizabeth he loves her and beg her to marry him."
"Finally!" The girls say in unison.
"But, I thought you wanted to marry her," Nathan says, wide-eyed.
"Son, I'm touched to learn the level of respect you have for me and the sacrifice you'd make. But, no, I do not wish to marry your girl."
Sarah digs around in her skirt pockets. "You'll be needing this." She tosses a white and blue blur toward me.
I catch it, and upon opening my wet hand, the wad springs out into a lacey circlet. The periwinkle ribbon I'd admired so much is woven throughout.
"I made it. Old, new, borrowed, blue. It's a garter," she chirps.
"I know good and well what it is." I can feel all their eyes on me.
Mortified.
I could not be more mortified.
"Well, slide it on then so Nathan can take it off of you later."
I stand corrected.
Chapter 12
The world looks different from this perspective.
Of course, this is due in large part to the fact that I'm dangling upside down and my gaze is rather fixated on Nathan's buttocks.
It’s not as if it’s the first time I've looked.
"I am perfectly capable of walking, you know," I say as calmly as I can while Nathan saddles his horse. I'd quit thumping him on the back before he ever left the house.
