by Mary Davis
No wonder he’d hired someone to look after Dora when he’d first arrived. He had the money to. But he must have thought better of it when he realized he shouldn’t be able to afford it.
“I feel like such a fool. Quite gullible, I am. Tell me anything, and I’ll believe it.” On the verge of tears, she blinked rapidly but from shame rather than fear this time. This was nothing to cry about. He wasn’t a Pinkerton. Fear, anger, shame, relief and a dozen other emotions tumbled around inside her.
“I’m sorry for misleading you. I had a duty and a job to fulfill. I had hoped you would understand.” His eyes pleaded.
Understand? Yes, she understood. Better than most. He was not a Pinkerton come to drag her back. The realization wrapped around her like a warm quilt. She was not at risk.
Mirth bubbled up inside her.
He had been brave enough to confess and trust her. Should she, as well?
Her mother had taught her not to diminish a man by turning the focus from him. Let him have his moment and find another time to reciprocate if need be.
She didn’t want to spoil the evening with another confession. One was certainly enough.
Maybe tomorrow after church.
* * *
Finally, a smile.
Lindley breathed a little easier with the weight of his pretense lifted. Tension seemed to drain from her whole demeanor, releasing her. He allowed himself to relax a little, as well. But she still hadn’t said anything.
He had worked his insides into knots with worry over how she would react. And from the time he’d arrived at her home until now, she’d seemed nervous and aloof. Before he’d even confessed. Maybe she had sensed something was amiss from the start.
He’d wanted to tell her sooner but didn’t know how and was afraid it would affect his job and others would discover his purpose. He had been ordered to tell no one. Only Mr. Keen had known his true intentions in being at the mine. “Please say you understand.”
Finally, she spoke. “I admit that I was a bit taken aback, but I do understand. I mean, you were working for the mining company, in a sense. Just in a different capacity.” She took a sizable bite of her salmon.
“Yes, I was.”
She swallowed. “You never quite seemed like the other miners.”
So she had noticed. “I didn’t? What gave me away?”
“For starters, your clothes.” She took another bite.
Pleased to see her finally eating, he said, “I bought the same clothes as the other miners wore. I even made them dirty so they would appear worn.”
“Yes. But they still looked new. And the dirt on both you and your children didn’t seem natural. I asked myself why you would purposefully sully your clothes. I could never figure it out.”
He had wrongly assumed that dirty was dirty. “So, what else?”
“Your hands.”
He turned his hands over. They were calloused from the past two months of physical work. Traces of mine dust and grime were still embedded under his nails.
“When you first arrived, they didn’t look as though they had seen a hard day’s work. Unlike now.”
“Oh, they have seen plenty of hard work, just not in recent years. It actually felt good to do physical labor again. There is something quite satisfying about it. Anything else?”
“Your diction.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Your manner of speech, and you used words the average miner would not. Then there was your concern for Gabe’s grades. Though a lot of the miners are grateful their children can get more schooling than themselves, they don’t value it. They know their sons and daughters will end up doing the jobs they do and wouldn’t use an education.”
He shook his head. “And here I thought I was doing so well at blending in.”
She actually gave a small laugh at that. And before long, she had eaten all her supper.
He was glad to see that her appetite had returned. Now maybe the evening wouldn’t be a loss.
* * *
Bridget had savored every bite of her meal, relieved Lindley wasn’t a Pinkerton come to take her home. On the morrow, she would disclose her own pretense, though nothing as elaborate as his.
After supper, he escorted her down by the harbor and to the end of the dock, where waves gently lapped at its pillars. Moonlight danced on the water’s surface. A gentle breeze carried in the salty air.
A perfect evening.
Lindley shifted his position. “The mining-company investors are hosting a party next Saturday. Businessmen and other potential investors from across the islands and the mainland will be here. I would very much like you to accompany me.”
Mainland? “You don’t want me at some fancy party.” In fact, she couldn’t go. It would be most unwise.
Facing her, he took her hand. “I want you at my side.”
She didn’t miss the deeper meaning to his earnest words. She very much wanted to be at his side. But if the wrong person saw her, the past three years would have all been for naught. “I don’t have an appropriate dress for such an occasion.”
He held out her arm and glanced down her dress. “This will do just fine.”
That was kind of him, but she knew better. This dress would pale in comparison with the gowns of the other ladies who would likely be in attendance. But it would be plenty fancy for a schoolteacher.
“Please?” He squeezed her hand in both of his.
She should say no.
But she wanted to go.
But it was unwise.
But her heart cared naught for wisdom.
Careful, her head cautioned.
She held a great deal of fondness for Lindley and his children. Enough to risk everything? What were the chances that there would be anyone attending who would know her or recognize her? “Very well. I’d love to go.” Her heart won out over good sense. She was both thrilled and terrified.
“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her hand, causing a tingle to radiate up her arm and through her body.
And she knew she was in love. She would risk most anything for him.
He tucked her arm around his and walked her home.
* * *
As she turned to retreat inside, Lindley touched Bridget’s arm to stay her.
She gazed up at him.
“Tonight I was hoping to ask you— Well, I wanted to ask long before tonight.” He took a deep breath. “May I court you?” There, he’d said it. And now his heart thundered so hard in his chest it hurt, and he was sure she could hear it.
She smiled demurely. “I would like that very much.”
“You would?” That was the answer he had wanted, but he still couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, I would. I do have one more week of school. It would be best to wait until it’s concluded.” She gazed up at him.
He caressed her cheek with his fingers. The emotions he’d held at bay broke free, knowing she felt the same. Her skin felt like silk under his touch.
Her tongue flicked across her pink lips.
They seemed to invite him closer. Cupping her face, he stepped forward.
She didn’t pull back or turn away from him.
He pressed his lips to hers. Warm and inviting. Slightest pressure.
She wrapped her arms around his waist.
He intensified the kiss.
After several moments, he broke off but kept his mouth very close to hers. “I guess this means we didn’t wait for school to be out, Miss Greene.”
“Apparently not, Mr. Thompson.” Smiling, she slipped inside her house.
Curious that he wasn’t nearly so nervous with her now. He supposed having kissed her and she kissing him back would do that. He looked forward to the next time.
His mouth hitched up on one side as he backed off her porch to head for home.
* * *
Bridget leaned against her door, listening to Lindley’s footsteps descending her porch and crunching on the dirt. She rushed to the window and coul
d see him in the moonlight. He appeared to have a spring in his step. She sighed.
All that worrying for naught. He had been harboring a secret, but not one that concerned her. At least not directly. And now she was being courted by a man she loved with her whole heart. A man she had pictured herself married to.
A man who deserved to know her secret, as well.
She pushed the thought aside. Certainly he would be as understanding.
She must go unpack.
Chapter 11
It warmed Bridget’s heart to see the church full once more with everyone well again. When she finished the final hymn and turned from the piano, she looked for Lindley at the back. She halted, perched on the edge of the piano bench, and stared.
Three young ladies and a young man stood with him and his children. None of whom she had ever seen before. And all were gazing at her with smiles. One lady held Dora, and the man held Gabe. She hadn’t realized the new people were with Lindley.
He’d said his sister was in town. But that would account for only one of them and not the man.
She stood.
Lindley left the gaggle and met her at the first pew. “Evidently, Priscilla telegrammed my family about you, and they sent a scouting party. They arrived last night while we were at supper.”
She picked up her black leather-bound Bible and tucked it in the crook of her arm. “Are they all your siblings?”
“Just the girls. Emmett is married to Winnie. They couldn’t come without a chaperone.”
“Half your family came?”
“Oh, this isn’t even half of them with all the nephews and nieces. Come, and I’ll introduce you.”
“I…” She shifted her Bible. They would be a lot to take in all at once. And he had more family elsewhere on the island. A lot more.
“My sisters won’t relent until they meet you.” He picked up her shawl and hat and then led her down the aisle.
Four pairs of expectant eyes stayed fixed on her. Did she look all right? She touched her hair and glanced down. She was glad she had worn her favorite green-and-white-striped spring dress adorned with white lace.
Dora leaned toward her, and Bridget instinctively reached for the girl and settled her on her hip, as naturally as if she were her own.
Lindley took Bridget’s Bible and motioned to her. “This is Miss Greene. Bridget, these are three of my sisters. Winnie and her husband, Emmett Halsted. Edith. And Priscilla.”
Bridget nodded to each person in turn. “Mr. and Mrs. Halsted, Miss Thompson, Miss Priscilla, I’m very pleased to meet all of you.”
Dora piped up. “I’m Dora.”
Everyone laughed, and tension rushed out of Bridget.
Mr. Halsted dipped his head toward her. “We are all pleased to meet you, Miss Greene. You may call me Emmett.”
The young ladies had eager gazes. Their smiles pressed into thin, upturned lines, as though they wanted to speak but were forcibly keeping their mouths closed. One even appeared to be holding her smile between her teeth. But all three remained silent.
Bridget wondered why. She dipped her head to the man. “Emmett, I’m honored. Please call me Bridget.”
“I’m honored.”
“Well, you must call me Winnie,” the sister who wore a burgundy calico dress said.
“And me Edith.” In blue calico.
“Just Cilla for me.” Yellow calico.
“I couldn’t believe Lindley didn’t tell one person in the family about you.” Burgundy calico.
“You will have to give us all the details about yourself.” Blue calico.
Bridget didn’t know which sister to focus on. They practically spoke on top of one another as though a dam had ruptured. And she daren’t try to squeeze in a word. There wasn’t room.
“You’re the schoolteacher.” Yellow.
“Dora and Gabe told us all about you.” Blue.
“I was a schoolteacher until I married Emmett.” Burgundy.
“Have you lived on the island long?” Blue.
Bridget tried to nod, but the next question came too quickly and several more after that.
Lindley held up his hands. “Not all at once.”
His sisters apparently hadn’t heard him and kept talking.
Emmett shrugged, his gaze on Lindley. “You tried.”
Or maybe they were ignoring their brother? Had he told them ahead of time not to deluge her with questions?
“Your dress is lovely,” one sister said.
Dora patted Bridget’s dress.
“The color of your hair is lovely,” another said.
Dora patted Bridget’s auburn hair.
“Everything about you is lovely,” the third sister said.
Dora squeezed Bridget around her neck. “I love her!”
From his uncle’s arms, Gabe stretched out his hand and touched her shoulder. He apparently didn’t want to be left out but knew better than to try to talk while his aunts were engaged.
Lindley tried again to quiet his sisters, to no avail. So he looped Bridget’s free arm through his and walked away with her.
“Lindley! What are you doing?” one of his sisters asked.
“Taking Bridget away from you clucking hens.”
Winnie scooted around in front of them and blocked their way. “No, you don’t.” She took Dora from Bridget and handed her to Lindley. Then she wrapped her arm around Bridget’s. At the same time, Edith hooked her arm through Bridget’s now free one. Cilla pressed in behind them, squeezing out the men and children.
And that was how one disentangled a person from a situation. An expert move. Had they planned that?
The sisters ushered her toward the door.
Bridget glanced back at the men. Lindley stood slack-jawed, and Emmett smiled, shaking his head. Dora and Gabe waved.
“You are coming to dinner.”
“We have most of it prepared.”
The ladies jostled around to all get out the door. Not one of them looked back to see if the men and children were coming.
“We made a pie and a cake and cookies last night.”
“We didn’t know what you preferred.”
Bridget couldn’t keep up with who was saying what. “Dinner?”
“Yes. At Lindley’s.”
“I hope you like chocolate.”
“We’ll have it ready in a trice.”
“And peach.”
“You won’t have to do a thing.”
“But his place…” She couldn’t imagine how his small house could accommodate all these people. And with the roof leaking. “Will we all fit?” Even her house would be stretched with them all.
“Of course.”
Bridget glanced at the darkening clouds. “But it looks like rain.”
Cilla giggled, much like Dora. “What does that have to do with you coming to dinner?”
Edith looped her arm through Bridget’s. “Then we better hurry before the clouds burst.”
The sisters hustled her down a road away from the mining camp. She wanted to correct their direction, but they were busy discussing what needed to be done first upon arriving. They would soon realize their error and turn around.
Instead, they ushered her up the path of a quaint, yellow cottage with white shutters. Bigger than her own. Bright pink rhododendron bushes stood sentry alongside the walk, and large lilacs guarded at the corners of the house.
“What? Who?”
Gabe and Dora ran ahead to the door.
Lindley came up as close to her as he could with his sisters gathered around. “We’ve moved.”
That made sense. Since he wasn’t a miner, he wouldn’t stay in a company house. His change in status was going to take some getting used to. “This is nice.”
“Gabe and Dora are excited to each have their own room. We have a kitchen and separate sitting room. Much better than the company houses. But they are going to be repaired.”
Edith squealed. “I just got hit by a raindrop. Hurry inside.” She ran
up the walk and through the doorway.
A drop hit the side of Bridget’s nose and another on her hand. Then they splatted here, there and everywhere.
Everyone ran for cover. Lindley ushered her in, his limp more pronounced.
The house smelled of fresh bread, stew and sweets. Though cozy, everyone fit comfortably.
Dora held out her arms. “No rain.”
“What does that mean?” Winnie asked. “It went from dry to pouring out there in a matter of a couple of seconds. There’s plenty of rain.”
Gabe spoke up. “Our other house leaked.”
Winnie jerked her gaze to Lindley.
He cringed and shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. We were always dry and warm. I made sure of it.”
“I’m hungry,” Emmett said. “When’s dinner going to be ready?” Kind of him to distract the sisters.
Lindley gave his brother-in-law a nod of appreciation.
The ladies shooed the men and children out of the kitchen and scurried around.
Bridget stood near the door. “What can I do to help?”
All three sisters shook their heads, but Edith spoke. “Oh, you get comfortable, and let us do the work.”
That wouldn’t be right. “I can’t sit idly while you all bustle around doing the work.”
Winnie came over and gave her a hug. “I love you for that. You can slice the bread.”
The meal was delicious, and the afternoon flew by.
Father and uncle carried the sleeping children to their rooms.
When Lindley returned, he sat next to Bridget on the sofa in the sitting room. “I’m sorry about my sisters.”
She’d had a lot of fun with his family. “Don’t be.” She would have liked to have had a sister or two.
“They haven’t scared you off? They can be a bit much.”
“Not at all. I like them a lot.”
“The rain has let up. Shall I walk you home?”
She was reluctant to leave the camaraderie. But in truth, the three sisters had worn her out more than a classroom full of children. His sisters had welcomed her and treated her like one of them. But the looming clouds wouldn’t recess for long.
Lindley retrieved Bridget’s Bible, shawl and hat.
“You aren’t taking her away from us, are you?” Winnie asked.
“The rain has stopped for the moment. I think this is a prudent time to take her home.”
