Daughtie was busy writing a letter while Ruth was mending the hem of her skirt when Bella entered the bedroom. ‘‘Another letter to Sister Mercy?’’ Bella asked.
Daughtie glanced over her shoulder and gave Bella an apologetic look as she nodded her head. ‘‘I miss her so much.’’
Her friend’s words rekindled Bella’s guilt. She doubted that Daughtie was any more comfortable in Lowell than she’d been the week they arrived. ‘‘You need not apologize,’’ Bella replied, giving her friend a hug. ‘‘I miss her, too. And the children—how I miss each of them.’’
‘‘Do you remember when we found the bird’s nest and little Minnette stuffed tiny pieces of strawberries down the fledglings’ throats until they were so full they nearly burst?’’ Daughtie asked with a giggle.
‘‘And how Eldress Phoebe reduced the poor child to tears by telling her she’d most likely killed the baby birds?’’ Bella continued.
Daughtie nodded. ‘‘Had it not been for Sister Mercy taking Minnette out to see those birds were still alive the next day, I don’t think Minnette would have recovered from Eldress Phoebe’s tart words. What would she have said had she known of the days we pulled off our shoes and stockings and waded in the creek?’’
‘‘I doubt she could have withstood the shock,’’ Bella replied.
‘‘I wonder if anyone else has left the Society since our departure. I do wish I could see some of them again,’’ Daughtie reflected aloud. ‘‘Minnette was such a sweet little girl. And the two tiny boys who were always clamoring for you, Bella, toddling about in their oversized butternut breeches and little shirts.’’
A pang of sadness stabbed at her heart. ‘‘Yes. How they missed their mothers. I’m sure they still do.’’ She paused, then wanting to forget the little boys who cried for their mothers, said, ‘‘I’d best get busy or I’ll not be done with my laundry by the time Taylor arrives.’’
‘‘So you’re going?’’ Daughtie asked.
‘‘Yes. Miss Addie would be very upset if I backed out now,’’ she explained.
Daughtie gave her a sidelong glance. ‘‘I think you want to go. You’re beginning to have feelings for him, aren’t you?’’
Bella attempted to squelch her rising sense of exasperation. ‘‘I’ve already explained this to you, Daughtie. Miss Addie is hopeful Taylor will open his heart to God. She’s hoping I can help point him in the right direction.’’
‘‘The only thing open in Taylor Manning’s heart is fulfillment of his own desire,’’ Ruth said with a blush.
‘‘Amen to that,’’ Daughtie replied. ‘‘Bella, I fear you’re leaving yourself at risk to his scheming ways.’’
‘‘I’m not afraid of Taylor. Besides, this will be a good opportunity to further plead our case for representation on the selection committee. I plan to find out just how much he’s accomplished in scheduling a vote by the Association.’’
‘‘As you wish, but I doubt he’ll remain on that subject for long,’’ Ruth countered.
‘‘I believe I’ll go downstairs and begin my laundry. Please don’t follow me—I can see you two are in agreement on this issue and I’m rushing off to escape your scolding,’’ she said, giving them a giggle as she walked out the door.
By the time Bella had completed her laundry and mending and had written a letter to Aunt Ida in Concord, there was little time to prepare for her outing with Taylor. Dashing upstairs, she quickly rearranged her hair, slipped out of her gray-striped Shaker work dress, and donned a yellow organdy with embroidered crewel work, one of the gowns Lilly Cheever had given her. A quick glance in the mirror caused her to stop and straighten the lace at one sleeve before rushing downstairs and off toward the kitchen.
Miss Addie gave her a bright smile while tucking a linen cloth atop a basket that appeared to contain more than ample supplies for two people. ‘‘I hope the size of that basket indicates that you plan to join us,’’ Bella said with a grin.
‘‘Young men have large appetites. Mintie tells me that no matter how much food she prepares for the men in her boardinghouse, they empty the bowls and ask for more. Besides, I’m sure Taylor hasn’t been eating well since John’s departure,’’ Addie replied. ‘‘Their housekeeper has been ill and still hasn’t returned to her duties.’’
Bella shook her head back and forth. ‘‘I doubt whether Taylor Manning will starve. Although I don’t think he’d attempt any cooking on his own, I’m certain he’d solicit dinner invitations in order to keep his stomach filled.’’
‘‘Now, now,’’ Miss Addie clucked.
Bella had just opened her mouth to answer when a knock sounded at the front door. Miss Addie bustled past her, obviously excited to welcome Taylor. Bella lifted the hefty basket, the wooden handle cutting into the fleshy padding of her fingers. She edged down the hallway with the cumbersome container shifting at her side.
Taylor moved toward her and in one fluid motion took the basket from her hand. ‘‘Let me help you. You must be anxious to be off,’’ he said, giving her a broad smile.
Bella decided his smile bordered on a smirk. Most likely he truly believed she was fervently anticipating his company. ‘‘I’m in no hurry. Did you want to come into the parlor and visit with Miss Addie for a while?’’ she inquired in her sweetest voice.
He fidgeted for a moment, obviously uncertain how to answer without offending Miss Addie. Bella, on the other hand, was enjoying his discomfort.
‘‘You children be on your way,’’ Miss Addie said, shooing them toward the door and saving Taylor from further uneasiness.
Moving with unusual celerity, Taylor whisked Bella to the carriage, loaded the picnic basket, and climbed up beside her. ‘‘My! Suddenly it appears you’re in a hurry—or is that my imagination?’’ Bella inquired with a demure smile as he flicked the reins.
‘‘You did that on purpose!’’ he accused.
She swallowed hard and sucked in on her cheeks to keep from laughing. ‘‘Did what?’’ she innocently asked.
‘‘You know exactly what I’m talking about,’’ he countered.
Her eyes grew wide as she gave him a questioning look and feigned innocence.
‘‘You intentionally suggested we visit with Miss Addie in the parlor before leaving the house in order to make me uncomfortable,’’ he alleged.
‘‘And you, sir, did the same to me. I returned no more than you gave,’’ she said, giving him a winsome smile.
‘‘I suppose you’re right about that,’’ he said, giving her a hearty laugh. ‘‘I’m not accustomed to ladies who . . .’’ He hesitated for a moment, appearing befuddled.
‘‘Ladies who don’t care if they keep company with you?’’
His eyes darkened as he met her gaze. ‘‘You care—you just won’t admit it,’’ he replied.
Bella shook her head. ‘‘I’ll not argue with you. It’s obvious you need to feed your ego with such nonsense. Where are we going for our picnic?’’ she asked, abruptly changing topics.
‘‘I had planned on stopping near Pawtucket Falls, but then Matthew Cheever mentioned a spot that’s a bit farther away. He says the view is worth the extra time it takes to get there. Of course, I can’t think of a lovelier view than the one I’m gazing upon at this moment.’’
Bella turned in the opposite direction, her gaze fixed upon the passing countryside. Her cheeks surely resembled two bright red apples. He would enjoy knowing that he’d caused her embarrassment.
‘‘You have no response to my compliment?’’ he asked.
‘‘No. We both know such talk is inappropriate.’’
‘‘I spoke the truth. Surely that’s not improper.’’
‘‘What was the topic of Reverend Edson’s sermon this morning?’’ she inquired.
‘‘Let’s see—how do I summarize an hour of preaching in one sentence? It is best to perform acts that are in the best interest of the body of Christ, even though such acts may be detrimental to you as an individual. God will h
onor your obedience. That was two sentences, wasn’t it? See there? It took him an hour to say what I told you in less than a minute.’’
Bella turned in her seat and faced him. ‘‘It sounds as though Reverend Edson’s sermon was directed at the people who oppose the school issue,’’ she replied. ‘‘Was Mr. Boott present?’’
‘‘Indeed he was—at least for a portion of the sermon. However, after the topic became evident, he and his wife got up and walked out of the church.’’
‘‘No! Surely they wouldn’t act in such an offensive manner. Miss Addie didn’t say a word about this. Are you making up this story to entertain me?’’
Taylor laughed as he pulled the horses to a stop. ‘‘This is beyond my storytelling ability. Obviously Kirk Boott doesn’t care what other people think. On the other hand, his wife doesn’t appear to share his views; she appeared extremely uncomfortable as they left the church,’’ he said as he assisted her out of the buggy.
Bella spread one of Miss Addie’s quilts on the nearby bed of grass, then gazed about her. ‘‘Mr. Cheever is right. This is a beautiful spot.’’
‘‘I’ll tell him you approve,’’ Taylor replied as he placed the basket between them. ‘‘Are you hungry, or would you prefer to take a short stroll?’’
‘‘Perhaps we should eat first and take our walk afterward,’’ she suggested as she began unpacking the basket of food. ‘‘And you enjoyed the sermon?’’ she asked.
Taylor gave her a look of confusion. ‘‘You do change issues rapidly. I’m going to have to stay on my toes if I’m going to keep up with you,’’ he said with a grin. ‘‘I suppose the sermon was as interesting as most. Personally, I don’t see the need to talk so long in order to say something people already know.’’
‘‘Obviously the words bear repeating since people don’t live by them,’’ she replied. ‘‘And I’m certain Reverend Edson used the additional time to detail his thoughts and point the congregation toward the Scripture he used as the basis for his sermon.’’
‘‘That’s exactly what he did, but please don’t ask me to quote the Scripture. I listened to enough of that when I was growing up,’’ he replied absently.
Bella placed a piece of Miss Addie’s baked chicken on a plate and handed it to Taylor. ‘‘You learned to quote Scripture as a little boy?’’
‘‘Um,’’ he said, nodding his head affirmatively as he stuffed a piece of chicken into his mouth and licked a finger. ‘‘That’s right.’’
She was amazed at the revelation. A young Taylor Manning committing Scripture to memory was quite difficult to envision. ‘‘How did you make the transition from a child reared in a godly home to someone who, who . . .’’
‘‘Are you at a loss for words, Bella? Let me help you. Perhaps you were going to say someone who enjoys life? Or someone who enjoys the company of ladies?’’
‘‘Or someone who enjoys life by keeping company with nearly married ladies,’’ she snapped. She slapped a hand across her mouth the moment the words slipped off her tongue.
‘‘You seem to know a great deal about my past. I find it charming that you know of my past indiscretions yet you permitted me to call upon you and agreed to accompany me on a picnic to this secluded place,’’ he said while moving closer.
‘‘Stop right there, Mr. Manning,’’ she commanded. ‘‘I don’t find your actions humorous.’’
He leaned back against a large maple tree and gave her a wide grin. ‘‘Anything else you’ve been told about me that you’d like to share?’’
‘‘No, but I wondered when the Mechanics Association was going to vote on our request to have representatives on the selection committee.’’
His forehead furrowed in deep creases. ‘‘There you go changing subjects again,’’ he said. ‘‘But because I’m such a gentleman, I’ll answer your question anyway. We’ll be voting on that issue soon.’’
‘‘It seems as if it’s taking quite a while for the matter to come to a vote,’’ she said, slicing a piece of cheese.
He picked up an apple and tossed it into the air, caught it, and then pitched it upward again. ‘‘These things take time. We presented the proposal at our last meeting, but because of machinery problems at the Merrimack, there were very few members in attendance. It seemed unwise to move forward.’’
‘‘Until you had enough men there to vote it down?’’ she asked.
He raised a brow. ‘‘That’s not what I said. In fact, I’ve decided having additional representatives would be a good idea, and I think many of the men are in agreement,’’ he replied in a gentle tone before giving her a tender smile.
His words surprised her and she returned his smile. ‘‘Thank you, Taylor.’’ She thought of her convictions from the night before. Here she had such grand plans to be all gentleness and kindness, and she’d really done nothing but antagonize Taylor since they’d come out together. Her thoughts were quickly shattered, however.
Before she realized what was happening, Taylor had gathered her into his arms, his lips capturing her mouth. She momentarily struggled against him and then succumbed to the warmth of his embrace.
Moving back ever so slightly, he waited until her eyes fluttered open and then gave a soft chuckle as he cupped her face in his hand. ‘‘I knew you’d fall prey to my charms. Even a straightlaced little Shaker girl can’t resist me.’’
His words and actions ignited her anger. Without further thought, Bella drew back her arm and, with all the force she could muster, slapped his face. She gave a self-satisfied nod as red welts began to form along his cheek. Attempting to jump to her feet, Bella dropped back to her knees as Taylor’s fingers grasped her wrist.
‘‘Turn me loose,’’ she commanded, wresting her arm from his hold and moving out of his reach.
‘‘Bella! Come back! It’ll be dark before long,’’ he called out.
She hurried, relieved to find the narrow road before darkness began to fall. Rushing off had been foolish, yet she wasn’t going to abide Taylor’s boorish behavior. Gray clouds were moving in overhead, bringing darkness sooner than usual. Without benefit of illumination, she tripped along the rutted path. Twice she twisted her ankle before deciding the grassy area alongside the road might provide more stability.
Soon she could hear Taylor’s slowly approaching carriage. Obviously he was looking for her, hoping to rectify the situation he had so callously created. He certainly wouldn’t want Miss Addie to find out he hadn’t changed a jot since moving to Lowell. Secreting herself among a stand of trees, she pulled her skirts close and peeked around the trunk of a towering elm, watching for his approach. Let him worry. He needed to suffer the consequences of his ill-mannered behavior, she decided.
‘‘Bella!’’ he called out.
Permitting herself only the shallowest of breaths, Bella flattened herself against the tree and waited until the buggy passed. She remained sculpted in place until the clopping sound of the horses grew faint to her ear. Suddenly she realized how very alone she was.
‘‘You’re being silly, Bella,’’ she told herself. ‘‘You spent the whole night in the woods before traveling from the Shaker’s village to Concord. You are no more at peril here than you were there.’’ The words bolstered her courage. ‘‘And look what you’ve done. You’ve put that pompous ninny in his place once and for all. God would surely never have expected you to compromise yourself all in hope of sharing the Gospel.’’
She took only a moment to bask in the delight of having outwitted Taylor before departing her hiding place. The hoot of an owl startled her into movement. Perhaps she should have kept the buggy in sight, she thought as she attempted to remain close to the path. The bushes up the road appeared to rustle. Was it the wind? Her palms grew wet, her breath coming in short, shallow spurts. Her instincts told her to run, yet her feet remained firmly planted. She couldn’t make them take flight. There was a sticky dryness in her mouth, a tackiness akin to a sturdily woven spider’s web. And in the midst of t
his fear, why was she remembering the stirrings of Taylor’s embrace, the warmth of his kiss? She pushed the unseemly thoughts from her mind, feeling cheap. She’d been nothing more than one of his conquests.
Finally able to force one foot forward, she slowly moved along the path, though she was still unable to allay her increasing terror. If there is anyone out there, it’s Taylor attempting to assure himself I’m going to make it back to town, she decided. He’s probably still hoping to convince me to remain silent about his behavior. Or possibly he thinks he can frighten me and I’ll rush to his carriage. He would certainly enjoy playing the hero!
Shadowy branches stretched in eerie patterns across the road as a breeze once again whispered through the trees. ‘‘I know you’re out there, Taylor,’’ she uttered in a trembling voice, realizing her newfound courage had already deserted her.
She was making a futile attempt to pray when her thoughts went careening off in another direction. What about those Irish girls who’d been reported missing? Only last week she’d heard of another one. Most likely those girls had been out alone—just like her. The thought sent a chill coursing down her spine, and her heart began pounding.
Bolting as though she’d been shot from a cannon, Bella heeded her innermost warning. She ran as though the devil himself were on her heels, hysteria nearly overtaking her as she arrived at the edge of town and finally the boardinghouse. She stood on the front step, grasping the door handle while hoping she could avoid prying eyes.
‘‘Thank you, Lord, for getting me home safely,’’ she whispered, trying hard to bring her breathing under control. ‘‘Help me now so that I don’t have to answer any of Miss Addie’s questions.’’
She opened the door, looking hesitantly into the house. No one was nearby. If she hurried, she might enter and be up the steps before anyone noticed. Drawing a deep breath, she gathered her skirts in one hand and widened the door’s opening with the other. I won’t let them see me as the fool, she told herself. Let Taylor Manning explain this one.
A Fragile Design Page 24
