by Jody Hedlund
Tom pushed away from the door and crossed to the window. He closed it halfway against the cool night air and then stared outside at the lighthouse beam rotating over the water.
Yes, yesterday the plan had seemed solid. But now, with his parents sitting in a room six feet away and their faces filled with so much hope, he doubted himself. He hadn’t anticipated their enthusiasm. What would he tell them at the end of the month?
More importantly, how would he endure the month sharing a bedroom with Victoria?
He glanced at her outline on the bed. The cover he’d draped over her earlier had fallen off her legs. In the faint light coming in through the window, he glimpsed her feet poking out from the tangle of her skirt.
Tentatively, he made his way to the bed. He lifted the blanket back over her feet but couldn’t stop from noticing the lovely curve of her ankles. He took in her sleeping form and then rested his attention on her face, the high cheekbones, delicate nose, and dainty chin. Her long lashes fanned against her unblemished skin. And when she gave a soft sigh, his pulse jolted with the memory of her tiny moan of pleasure when he’d breathed into her ear on the steamship. He’d enjoyed that sound way too much and was ashamed to admit he wouldn’t mind hearing it again.
“No,” he whispered, giving himself a mental shake. He’d given his word to Mr. Cole that he’d respect Victoria. Even though they would have to appear to be a happily married couple for the next month, he’d steel himself for what he must do. As Victoria said, they were acting. He’d just have to make sure that he only acted and nothing else.
Chapter 10
The angry grumbling in Victoria’s stomach woke her. She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was a spider crawling across a cracked ceiling.
With a start, she sat up. Where was she?
At the sight of the light blue walls and lacy curtains, the memories from yesterday came rushing back. She was at Race Point Lighthouse in a quaint keeper’s house with Tom’s parents. She smiled at the memory of their hugs and sweet welcome. She hadn’t spent much time with them, but she’d immediately sensed their warmth and kindness.
With a lazy yawn, she stood and stretched. Her corset pinched her ribs, reminding her that she’d slept with it on. She patted her head and realized that she’d also slept with her hair coiled into the same knot her maids had arranged for her wedding. Large swaths had fallen out and now hung in disarray.
She must have been exhausted from the day’s travel to sleep in her clothes all night. But it didn’t matter. She’d start the day with a bath and perhaps have the maid wash her hair. It certainly was dusty after all the traveling.
Scratching her head and extracting a loose pin, she crossed to the window. She pulled back the curtain to see that the sun was already high in the sky. From the way the light shimmered above the ocean, she could tell that the day would be a warm one.
She would have to don one of her light cotton garments.
With a sinking heart, she spun to find her lone bag sitting on a cedar chest in the corner. She’d only packed two additional dresses—one traveling suit and one everyday dress. She’d assumed she’d have access to a seamstress and be able to enhance her wardrobe with pretty new outfits and accessories.
But now… What would she do?
She lowered herself to the sofa. Its braided edge was frayed and the blue faded to almost white. She nibbled her lip and stared at her bag. The tip of her wooden driftwood cross poked out, her cross of hope, reminding her to have hope and to find the best in every situation, which she clearly needed to do now.
Perhaps she could send Tom over to Provincetown to locate a seamstress there. Even better, he could telegram one of the well-known seamstresses in Boston and have her visit the lighthouse and create her wardrobe.
In the meantime, she’d have to get by with the two dresses she’d packed. Certainly she could survive a few days. After all, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of her friends seeing her.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she pressed her fist against her middle to dull the ache. First, however, she needed food. As she searched the room looking for some way to call the maid, it dawned on her that there might not be a maid. This was a small house and wouldn’t require the number of staff that one of her father’s homes needed. The Cushmans probably had a single housekeeper who attended to all of the duties.
Victoria sighed. She supposed she would have to get dressed on her own. She’d had to do so in the past when she’d taken the trip to the Midwest with her father. She hadn’t relished the experience. But she could do it if she had to.
For several minutes she worked at extricating herself from her dirty traveling gown. When she was down to her corset, she rubbed at the chafed skin on her stomach where the whale bones had dug into her. She wanted to loosen the tight-fitting stays, but she couldn’t reach her arms around the back far enough to find the laces. The more she reached, the more the whale bones poked into her.
Finally, with a sigh, she gave up. She’d have to find the housekeeper later and ask her to come up and assist her. For now, she was stuck.
By the time Victoria finished putting on a fresh gown and buttoning and lacing all of the layers, she was over-heated with the effort. She was appalled at how wrinkled the garment was and decided that the housekeeper would have to iron it, perhaps while she was having her bath.
The open window allowed in a breeze, but it was clearly growing warmer and more uncomfortable in the upstairs room. She was too hungry and hot to take the time to do her hair properly. So instead of styling it in the usual coil with ringlets, she settled for brushing out the tangles and pulling it back into a simple knot.
When she finally felt attired sufficiently to leave her room, she made her way downstairs, which was unusually quiet. She peeked into the room at the back of the house and discovered a tidy kitchen with a cast iron stove in one corner, a work table at the center, and a wash basin against another wall. But the housekeeper wasn’t in sight, and neither was any food.
Across the hallway from the kitchen was a dining room with a long table that looked like it could seat two families. A vase at the center of the table was filled with a strange collection of dried flowers and grass. A sideboard sat along the far wall decorated with an assortment of tableware, including a white pitcher, oval platter, and a coffee creamer and sugar bowl.
Her mouth watered at the prospect of freshly brewed coffee. Although she hadn’t seen a coffee pot in the kitchen, surely the housekeeper wouldn’t mind making her a cup.
If she could locate the housekeeper.
She headed down the hallway toward the front of the house and the entryway. When she reached the sitting room, she poked her head in hesitantly.
“Good morning,” came a motherly voice. Zelma sat in the same spot at the pedestal table where Victoria had seen her yesterday. Again, her Bible was open on the table in front of her. She smiled up at Victoria and motioned to the chair across from hers. “Come in. I’ve been waiting to see you this morning. You were sure tired when you got here last night. I hope you slept well.”
“I didn’t wake up once,” Victoria replied, returning the smile and lowering herself across from Zelma. “I didn’t sleep at all the night before, and so I guess I really needed the rest.”
Zelma’s smile widened. “Ah, the life of newlyweds.”
At Zelma’s conclusion for the cause of her sleepless night, Victoria felt herself flush from her neck to her cheeks. She was too utterly embarrassed to make a sound, much less speak.
Zelma laughed, and the sound was like the tinkling of silver bells. Victoria couldn’t help noticing, as she had last night, that Zelma was lovely. She had very few wrinkles in her creamy complexion. Her eyes were especially pretty and had a youthfulness about them that made Zelma seem too young to have a son Tom’s age.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Zelma said, reaching across the Bible and capturing Victoria’s hand. “I shouldn’t tease. Not everyone is quite as open as we are
in our appreciation of married life.”
Victoria looked at the hand holding hers, the delicate fingers that had veins showing through the thin layers of skin. “I’m still adjusting to being married,” Victoria said shyly.
“Did you have time for a wedding trip?” Zelma asked.
Victoria shook her head. “No. Tom was anxious to get here.” If she’d married Nathaniel, she already would have been sailing to Europe, likely relaxing in one of the luxury suites on the Independence. She’d been looking forward to returning to Europe, had planned what she’d wear and what she’d see down to the last detail. Even if she and Nathaniel ended up getting married later in the summer, she doubted they would be able to make the trip that late in the year.
“Don’t worry.” Zelma patted Victoria’s hand. “I can see that you’re disappointed, but I’m sure I can persuade James to give Tom a few days off so the two of you can have some time alone right here.”
Oh, my. Once again Victoria flushed. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she and Tom would handle that type of situation under his parents’ noses.
“I’ve embarrassed you again.” Zelma gave another light laugh. “Forgive me, dear. I’ll try to be more tactful.”
Victoria was thankful when Zelma changed the conversation to her daughter Ruth, son-in-law Greg, and their two children. She spoke about how much she missed them and was praying fervently for Greg’s health. Then she talked for a little while about the grandchildren, and it was clear that Zelma loved her family dearly.
Finally Victoria’s aching stomach prodded her up from the table. “Where might I find your housekeeper?”
Zelma peered up at her with uncomprehending eyes. “Housekeeper?”
“Your hired help?”
“We don’t have any hired help, dear. Ruth took care of everything, and my grandchildren worked hard too.”
No housekeeper or hired help? Victoria stood unmoving, and her mind spun as she tried to grasp the situation. Without help, how were they surviving? Without help, how would she last an entire month?
After a moment, Victoria smiled. She had the perfect solution. Maybe God had brought her here to this forsaken place to solve the problem by hiring someone for them. “Do you know where Tom is this morning?”
“He’s outside making repairs on the lighthouse.” Zelma reached for the teacup near her and took a sip. “He’s been hard at work for a couple of hours, and I’m sure he’s ready for a break so that he can spend time with his bride.”
Victoria started toward the door with a lightness in her step. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take all the time you need, dear,” Zelma called after her.
Victoria let herself out and crossed the porch into the bright morning sunshine. She hesitated on the front step as the heat of the sun touched her face. She ought to go back for her hat or parasol. She’d religiously kept her skin lily white, and she certainly didn’t want that to change here. But at the sight of Tom on a ladder working on the lighthouse tower that sat a short distance away, she started down a well-worn sandy path toward him.
The wind coming off the ocean was refreshing. The never-ending lap of the waves against the nearby shore reminded her of her family’s cottage in Newport, except that the waves seemed louder here and more constant. Several sandpipers with their skinny legs and long thin beaks waded in the wet sand. In the distance, she caught sight of the sails of fishing boats along with a steamer, its puff of smoke the only cloud in the clear blue sky.
When she reached the broad white tower, she stopped at the base, shielded her eyes with her hand to block out the sun, and looked up at Tom, waiting for him to see her. He was perched at the top of his ladder, a bucket in one hand and a tool of some kind in the other. She hesitated in calling out because she didn’t want to startle him and risk him falling.
After a long minute, with the dampness of perspiration already forming between her shoulder blades, she wondered if she should wait until he was done to discuss the matter. She started to turn away.
“You’re finally awake.” He spoke without glancing at her.
She should have known he’d notice her standing there. In fact, he’d probably seen her coming the second she stepped out of the house. “Yes, I’ve been awake for a little while now.”
“Fifty-five minutes.”
He’d been keeping track? She knew better than to question him. Instead, she watched him work. He dipped his tool into the bucket, removed it, revealing a gray glob on the end, and then smeared the paste on a crack in the bricks. He wasn’t wearing his usual dark suit, but was instead attired in a pair of faded blue trousers and a white linen shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. His arms were just as thick and muscular as they’d felt through his coat. She supposed he couldn’t very well wear a suit every minute of the day while he was at the lighthouse, and she had to admit, that even in the plain clothes he was still striking.
“I know you didn’t come out just to stare at me.” He scraped his tool along the crack, smoothing the gray paste.
“I’m not staring.” But that’s exactly what she’d been doing. “I came to discuss an urgent matter with you.”
“Urgent?” His tone was skeptical.
“Very. I wouldn’t bother you otherwise.”
He smoothed the tool over the bricks for another moment before finally putting it back in the bucket and starting down the ladder. When his feet were back on the ground, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the moisture from his brow. “What’s wrong?”
She gave him what she hoped was her most enticing smile. “I’d like to hire a housekeeper for your parents.”
“No.”
She’d been prepared for his negativity and had a ready answer, her perfect solution. “I’m prepared to pay the entire cost. It would be my way of saying thank you to your parents for letting us stay with them this month.”
“No.” He leaned down and picked up a leather canteen leaning against the tower.
“Your mother said Ruth took care of everything, and now that she’s gone there’s no one to do the work.”
“There’s someone now.” Tom unscrewed the cap.
“There is?” The news took her by surprise. Maybe Tom had already anticipated her needs and made the arrangements. “Who?”
“You.” He lifted the canteen to his lips.
“Me?” She laughed. “I’m not trained to be a housekeeper. I’d much prefer to hire someone who knows what they’re doing and can give us the assistance we require.”
He guzzled water from his canteen, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. His neck and chin had a slight layer of dark scruff, which was out of character since he was normally so cleanly shaven.
“Besides, if I don’t hire someone, then your mother may think I expect her to wait upon me, and that would be awkward, don’t you think?”
Tom wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and his eyes turned dark, almost dangerous. “My mom won’t be waiting on you, Victoria. Not now. And not ever.”
His voice contained a bite that she’d never heard there before, and it gave her pause. Before she could think of a suitable response, he spoke again in the same low tone.
“Apparently, you’ve been too preoccupied to notice that she doesn’t have any feet.”
His words seemed to reach out and slap her across the cheeks and she stumbled back a pace. “I didn’t know… I’ve only seen her twice and both times she was sitting at the table. I didn’t look…”
“That’s my point. You need to get better at looking at the needs of others instead of focusing so much on yourself.” Tom screwed the lid back on the canteen with jerking, almost angry movements.
Victoria swallowed a sudden rise of bile, not sure why she was suddenly sick to her stomach. Perhaps from Tom’s accusations? Or the fact that his mother had no feet?
He turned and started up the ladder without a backward glance.
Her heart pattered with the sudden nee
d to prove herself to him. “Since your mother is impaired, isn’t that all the more reason to hire a housekeeper? Just think of how much help it would be to her.”
“To you,” he said. “You want the help for you.”
She couldn’t deny him, and somehow that made her feel even worse. “I’ll admit, a bath would be delightful.”
Tom swiped off his hat and jammed his fingers into his damp hair. He looked as though he wanted to say more. But then he slapped his hat back on and put a hand on the next rung. “You’re not hiring anyone, Victoria. It would jeopardize your safety.”
With that, he started back up the ladder.
She watched with growing helplessness. Who would iron her dress? Who would help her with her bath? And who would find her something to eat?
“I’m hungry. Could you at least bring me breakfast?”
Tom climbed higher. “You’ll find food in the pantry.”
“Pantry?” She’d never been in a pantry. She wouldn’t know where to find it, and even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do with any of the supplies.
He stopped near the top and looked down at her. “My dad hasn’t slept more than a couple hours straight for the past two weeks. Today he is. Do you want to know why?”
She thought she knew. But before she could answer, he continued.
“Because I’m here to help him. And you’re here to help Mom.”
How could she possibly help Zelma? She’d never waited on anyone before. “I won’t know how to do anything—”
“You’re smart. You’ll learn fast.” With that, he dug his tool back into his pail and began to work again.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to learn. But she couldn’t sway Tom. Once his mind was made up, he was too stubborn.
She sighed and mopped a sleeve across her damp brow. For now, she’d have to resign herself to being without a housekeeper, even though she didn’t have any idea how she’d manage for herself, much less be of any use to Zelma. But she could try, couldn’t she? At the very least, in the short term, she could ask Zelma if she needed anything.
