“Jonah will bring Scioto with him when he brings my niece,” the professor said. “I’d like for you to stay and take care of him. I don’t know what your background with horses is, but I was brought up on a farm, and I’m more than willing to teach you all I know.”
Peter took in the hopeful look on the professor’s face and then looked around the stable. The offer was the chance he’d been hoping for; a job that would pay wages, giving him the ability to earn his keep. But, considering his past, could he trust himself to take it?
Anne was worried about her uncle.
As they sat at the breakfast table, she couldn’t help noticing that, once again, he’d ignored the food Mrs. Werner prepared. Oatmeal, eggs on toast, and the remainder of her mother’s strudel remained untouched. The oatmeal’s presence meant Mrs. Werner worried about him as well. She had to have gotten up quite early to make it. Coffee was all he’d consumed between reviewing notes for his first class and reading the Dispatch. She eyed the strudel, truly surprised he hadn’t taken even a bite. It was one of his favorites. Ma had sent it with her, having made it specifically for him. But in the few days since she arrived, Anne had eaten most of it.
Since her aunt’s death, he hadn’t been the same, but she didn’t recall him behaving quite like this. She used to see her uncle more often, when he lived just east of the farm in Delaware and taught at Ohio Wesleyan. Since starting at The Ohio State University, contact between him and her family was limited to weekly letters and holiday visits, and he’d always seemed reasonably cheerful. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Werner opening the kitchen door a crack. Anne shook her head, and the housekeeper, pressing her lips together, returned to the kitchen. Anne rose from her seat and took up her dishes.
“Can I get you more coffee, Uncle Daniel?”
He looked up from his notes and smiled. “No, thank you, Anne. You can take my dishes. I’m finished.”
She looked at him reprovingly. “Uncle Daniel, you haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m not very hungry this morning.”
Anne sighed and set all the dishes on the tray Mrs. Werner had left on the side table. She lifted it and carefully backed her way through the swinging door leading to the kitchen.
“He will waste away to nothing if he keeps eating so.” Mrs. Werner took the tray from Anne. “’Tis true he never ate much since I came to work for him, just after Mrs. Kirby died, God rest her soul, but since young Mr. Ward left—”
“Mr. Ward? Who’s he?”
“Ah, I thought he had told you about him. A week before you arrived, Dr. Kirby went into town with Professor Townshend. They happened upon this young man being beaten in an alley and brought him back here.” She washed the dishes, and Anne dried them with a dishcloth.
“Why was he being beaten?”
“He was a tramp. Some young boys thought it was good sport.”
“How barbaric! Was he badly hurt?”
“No, although Dr. Townshend did have him stay in bed for about a week. Dr. Kirby took a shine to him though. Spoke to him about the good Lord, and young Peter took it to heart.” Mrs. Werner handed Anne the last plate and wiped her wet hands on her apron. “He offered him a job looking after his horse, but Peter turned him down. Ever since he left, Dr. Kirby’s been distracted and melancholy.”
Anne’s brow furrowed as she put the dried dish in the cupboard. “That’s odd. Did my uncle say why he turned the offer down?”
“No, but he had the coloring of your cousin, Joseph.” She gave Anne a knowing look.
It made sense now. Her cousin was one of the reasons Uncle Daniel decided to teach at the university. Joseph had decided to attend the university, but just a few months before he was to start, Aunt Kitty passed away. He’d abruptly decided to switch schools and instead left Ohio to attend Bowdoin College in Maine. Her uncle missed his son dearly.
Anne sighed. “Well, Mrs. Werner, let’s give him some time. Maybe my being here will help.”
The housekeeper nodded. “I surely hope so.” She handed Anne a cloth-covered basket. “You’ll be eating lunch with him, I expect. See what you can do about getting him to eat.”
Anne smiled. “I’ll do my best.” She set the basket on the counter. “I think I’ll have a better chance if I add the strudel.” She carefully wrapped the pastry with a piece of paper left over from packing their basket. “So what are you going to do with your morning off, Mrs. Werner?”
“I intend to visit my sister-in-law down in the south part of the city.”
“That’s a long walk; I hope you’ll be careful.”
“Oh, me old legs couldn’t stand walking that far. I’ll take the streetcar.”
Anne glanced up, her interest piqued. “Columbus has streetcars?”
“Aye, horse-drawn, they are. They run along High Street, from Dodridge to the north to well past Broad Street. The last stop is near City Park, right where I’ll be getting off.”
Anne smiled. “Well that’s good to know.” Yes, she thought, that is good to know.
“It’s not fast, mind you, and it smells something awful if your seat’s in the wrong spot, but it’s certainly better than walking.”
“Anne?” Uncle Daniel poked his head in. “Are you ready? Neither of us should be late on the first day.” He smiled at Mrs. Werner. “Thank you for breakfast this morning.”
Mrs. Werner opened her mouth to say something just as his head disappeared. “That man!”
Anne laughed. “I’ll make him eat something at lunch, I promise.”
Basket in hand, Anne walked to the front hall where her uncle waited for her. She eyed the hall clock. “I thought you said we were late.”
“If we’re to take a trip out to the stable first, we’ll need extra time.”
“I should have known,” she said, taking his arm.
“I’d ask you if you mind, but I know better,” Daniel said as they walked. “You didn’t think your Pa wouldn’t tell me the regard you have for my horse, now, did you?”
“Of course not.” Anne sighed. “He told you to keep me out of the stable, didn’t he?”
He stopped and looked at her. “He told me some other things as well. I’m very sorry, Anne.”
She felt him squeeze her hand where it sat in the crook of his arm. “Pa’s hoping I’ll make a match down here and forget about what happened.”
“Is that what you want?”
Yes nearly escaped her lips. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really forget.”
“I can understand that. Pain can leave a lasting and bitter aftertaste.” His eyes sobered, then he smiled gently. “I know my brother. He wants what’s best for you. And so does God. Trust them.”
Anne tugged on his arm, trying to maintain a peaceful countenance. They walked on in silence for several moments.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Uncle Daniel said, “all other matters aside, did you enjoy teaching?”
Anne smiled. When she decided to get a teaching certificate, her uncle had been delighted and given her every encouragement. Taking a breath, she tried to soften how she really felt as best she could. “I don’t know. It wasn’t awful. But I didn’t enjoy it as much as I enjoyed working with our animals when I was younger. I can’t remember liking anything better than that.” She looked at him in wide-eyed apology. “I’m sorry.”
He chuckled and patted her hand. “Don’t be, but I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy the library much better.”
“I know.” Her uncle’s house sat close to High Street, and she caught a glimpse of a streetcar going past. Her true reason for taking the library job twisted her heart so much it was hard to form her next words. “But it’s only for a few months.”
“True, I had forgotten Miss Fuller hopes to return from her convalescence just before the spring term starts.” He squeezed her hand again, and she turned back to him. “You’re always welcome to visit Scioto. I’ll be praying for you.”
When they reached the stable, Uncle Daniel
opened the door for her, and she immediately saw Scioto at his stall door. He grunted as they walked over to him. Daniel stroked his horse’s neck, reminding Anne of how her uncle used to be before Aunt Kat died. She scratched the horse’s withers, noticing he hadn’t yet been groomed. She looked in Scioto’s feed bin to see if he had finished eating. It certainly appeared he had; so why wasn’t Ben brushing him down? She’d always groomed him just after he ate. She was about to say something to her uncle when the young stable hand appeared.
“Good morning, Professor Kirby, Miss Kirby,” he said with a smile.
Anne nodded, and her uncle quickly turned to him. “How has he been spending the night?”
“Very well, sir, I hardly ever hear him.”
“Is he behaving better for you now?”
“Yes, sir. He’s a little less fractious now that we’ve gotten to know each other a little.”
Uncle Daniel chuckled. “I’m afraid he’s always been like that. With the exception of my niece here and … my late wife, he’s never taken well to new people.”
“I was just getting ready to let him out in the paddock awhile.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll lead him out,” Uncle Daniel said eagerly. He took the lead from Ben and snapped it onto Scioto’s halter.
Anne laid her hand on Ben’s arm before he could follow Scioto and her uncle. “Ben, I was wondering something about Scioto—”
“Don’t worry, Miss Kirby,” he said quickly. “I’ll take real good care of him.”
Remembering how Pa had told her to stay out of Ben’s way, she nodded. “Of course you will.”
She watched him join her uncle. She truly hoped Ben would take care of Scioto, considering how attached her uncle was to his horse. But Ben was young—seventeen—and a little too eager to please and prove himself. She shook her head. Scioto’s daily care wasn’t her responsibility any longer. People had different ways of doing things. Perhaps Ben didn’t see the point in grooming him until after Scioto had been exercised. She hoped he would remember. Scioto trotted around the perimeter of the paddock before loping over to Uncle Daniel. He smiled and gave him a final pat.
“I’ll be back, old boy.” He shook Ben’s hand then joined Anne. She watched his face lengthen a little, and she mustered a cheerful smile as she took his arm.
“We can come back this evening and spend more time with him,” she suggested as they made their way back to the front of the house.
He shook his head. “We won’t have time, I’m afraid. If you recall, Dr. Townshend invited us to his home tonight. He’s sending a carriage for us.” He glanced back at his horse. “I’d have Scioto take us, but he’s still getting used to it here, and I haven’t gotten a new buggy yet.”
“Then we’ll visit him tomorrow morning.”
He nodded slowly, and Anne decided she would make sure Ben took proper care of her uncle’s horse. Promise or no, she couldn’t stand to think of the melancholy Uncle Daniel would sink into should something happen to Scioto.
Chapter 4
I thought four o’clock would never get here!”
Anne smiled at Emma’s exclamation as the young assistant librarian closed the door. It had been an exhausting first day. Never had she imagined that working at the library would be so similar to teaching, at least regarding discipline. She’d spent a great deal of the day attempting to keep the students quiet and the young men from propping their feet up on the windowsills and tables. At one point, when a young lady had fetched them to help get some reference material, several young men had situated their feet on the shelves such that it was impossible to access the tome she required. Some had actually removed books from the shelves and set them aside to make room for their feet. They hadn’t bothered to replace them. Anne and Emma now took up the numerous volumes sitting about and began to reshelve them.
Anne looked around as they worked. She couldn’t help but admire the library’s new home on the third floor of the Main Building. She’d been told the room used to belong to the botanical department. They had moved upon the completion of their own building, opening up this space. It was a large room with elegant wooden columns running down the middle. The smell of fresh wood still hung in the air from the newly built shelves, and broad tables for students to work at stood in neat rows. Anne sighed as she looked at all the books stacked on them now. The library seemed to have so many volumes already, and yet Emma had told her the university intended to acquire more!
She looked at the sunshine dancing in from one of the windows, longing to step outside. There hadn’t been one opportunity to do so all day, not even at lunchtime, since Uncle Daniel’s office was just down the hall. When she had been teaching, she’d always made it a habit to step outside for at least a few minutes during the day.
Emma set down a stack of books at the sound of a knock at the door. “I’ll bet that’s that engineering student, begging to be let back in for just one more peek at a book.” Her huff poofed up her brown fringe of curly bangs. “I’ll shoo him back to his dormitory.”
Anne chuckled as she took an armful of books to where they belonged. She heard Emma open the door, but judging from the tone of her voice, it must not have been him. The door closed, and a moment or two later when she returned to the study tables for more books, Emma was there.
“Mike Dixon, the university janitor, sent his assistant over to check the gas pipes before cold weather sets in,” she said, taking up a stack of books. “He won’t be but a few minutes.”
Anne nodded and took up a particularly large book. She walked over to its shelf only to find that she was too short to put it back where it belonged. She grimaced in disgust, wishing yet again she were a respectable height. “Emma, do we have a step stool?”
“It’s back in the corner, near the science shelf. Sorry it’s tucked away, but I hardly ever use it.”
Anne sighed. Of course Emma didn’t use it. She was at least four inches taller than Anne. She walked over to the corner and spied the stool. She was so intent on fetching it and getting back to work, she didn’t notice the janitor’s assistant working close by. She knelt down and grasped it, barely moving it an inch before she shrieked. A spider scurried out and sat on the wooden floor, all too close to the hem of her skirt. Anne froze in fear. The vile thing was the size of a large walnut and just as black. The sound of Emma calling her name began to register in her mind as a brown boot came out of nowhere, crushing the spider. She gasped and looked up into a pair of emerald eyes. Their owner offered his hand. “Are you all right?”
She reached out a shaky hand and felt his fingers fold over her own. Somehow their warmth helped steady her racing heart as he helped her to her feet. Emma popped out from between the shelves and hurried over. “Anne, are you all right? What happened?”
“A spider gave her a fright.” The quiet manner in which the man said it gratified Anne. Most thought her fear of spiders silly. He lifted his boot and gently squeezed her hand as she looked away in revulsion. Emma’s face registered disgust as well, and she shuddered.
“I’ll clean this up, Miss Long,” he said, handing Anne off to Emma.
She found herself releasing his hand reluctantly and couldn’t help but look back at him as Emma gently grasped her by the elbow. His voice sounded young, but his full beard and mustache made her wonder if he was much older. He knelt down, took out a handkerchief, and wiped up the remains of the spider. “Thank you,” she said, hoping to catch sight of his green eyes once more. But they remained focused on his task, and he simply nodded.
Peter’s heart raced. She wouldn’t have been hurt, of course; wolf spiders weren’t poisonous, but the sight of them was anything but pleasant. What set his heart at such a pace was his first sight of Anne Kirby.
He’d known when he’d taken the job working for Mr. Dixon he might cross paths with Professor Kirby’s niece. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon or in such a way. Normally he would have caught the spider and let it go, but the look of fright on
her face compelled him to crush the thing.
And he certainly hadn’t expected her to be even more beautiful in person. Her small build, porcelain skin, and ginger-red hair made her look just like one of the china dolls he’d seen in the shops back in Pittsburgh.
Stop it, he told himself sharply. She wasn’t a toy for him to play with, but a person. He tried to reinforce that thought in his mind by remembering the fear in her brown doe eyes and how shaky her hand had been as he helped her to her feet. Peter shook his head. Thinking of her like that didn’t help either.
He wadded up his handkerchief and, not seeing a trash can handy, placed it in his pocket. He’d shake it out and wash it later. He finished his work, placed the tools Mr. Dixon had given him in their bag, and slipped out the door. He struggled to push thoughts of Miss Kirby from his mind as he made his way over the gravel walkway to the new botany building.
Setting his jaw, he tried to go over the list of things Mr. Dixon wanted him to check, but all he heard was her soft voice, thanking him, making it hard to concentrate. Why had he helped her to her feet? He still felt the gentle pressure of her fingers on his. Peter was so focused on his thoughts, he bumped into someone as he walked.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry,” he said. He began to move on when someone grabbed his arm. Frowning, Peter turned to see a dark-haired man a few years older than him. Another man stood beside him, thumbs in his suspenders.
“Who are you? What do you think you’re doing with that bag?”
His superior tone sparked Peter’s temper, but he managed to answer civilly. “I’m Peter Ward, the janitor’s assistant. Mr. Dixon gave me this bag this morning.”
Brides of Ohio Page 32
