The big blacksmith stood and pulled out the chair next to him. Marissa sat in the proffered seat and gave him a shy smile.
When Marissa was finally alone in the room she and Clari shared, she sank onto the chair and wilted. The evening meal had been difficult for her. She had to pretend she knew all those people. Clari had told her about them, but the information was sketchy. This room was heavenly, though. A real room in a real house. For a moment, she felt like a regular person. Then reality set in. She actually enjoyed the time at the campsite. She could relax and be herself there. Here she would have to be alert all the time, playing a role. The role of Rissa Le Blanc, a fictional person who didn’t have anything in common with Marissa Voss. She sighed and hung her head.
She allowed a few moments to feel sorry for herself; then she resolved to make the most of this wonderful room while she had it. She walked over to the bed and pressed both hands on it to test the mattress. Clari had said it was soft. Marissa hadn’t imagined how soft. She crossed to the highboy and opened the drawers, one at a time, to familiarize herself with where each thing was stored. After reopening the third drawer, she extracted a nightgown and dressed for bed. By the time she nestled into the welcoming cocoon, she had pushed her negative thoughts into a hidden recess of her mind. She could play this part as well as Clari did. Their very lives depended on it.
❧
When Marissa walked through the door of the Dress Emporium the next morning, Anna and Gerda weren’t in the showroom. They must be working in the back. It gave her time to refamiliarize herself with the shop. Lots of new accessories were cleverly displayed on various pieces of furniture. She walked around the shop and fingered several delicate, handmade lace items. Olina Nilsson must have been busy to create all these lovely things. Even the shawl Pierre had purchased before had been replaced, but the new one was white instead of blue. She might ask him if she could have that one too. He didn’t often turn down anything she asked for when other people were around. He wanted to appear wealthy and generous. But, as the girls played a part, he was playing his.
The curtains that separated the shop from the workroom parted, and Anna came through the opening. “I thought I heard the bell.” She smiled at Marissa. “Rissa, I’m so glad you came by. We’ve finished your second dress. I want you to try it on.” She led the way into the back room where Gerda sat hemming a dark skirt.
The dress they had finished for her was beautiful. Marissa went behind the screen and changed into it. When she came out and looked at herself in the cheval glass, she was pleased with what she saw. She would enjoy wearing this gown. After changing into her other clothes, she looked at the fabric Anna was spreading on the cutting table.
“Is that for one of my other dresses?” Marissa asked.
Anna nodded. “We’ll try to get both of them finished before we have to start anything else. I know your father told us you weren’t in a hurry, but we don’t want to take too long, do we?”
Gerda agreed, and Marissa looked around the room. They had so much fabric, lace, buttons, and other notions. The variety fascinated her. She glanced again at the fabric on the table. It was a vibrant emerald green. Marissa knew she would never feel comfortable wearing that color. Why did Clari always pick such intense colors? Marissa was happier in softer shades.
“Anna”—Marissa gave her a pleading look—“would it be all right if I changed the color, since you haven’t cut it out yet?”
Anna glanced at Gerda, then back at Marissa. “Are you sure? I thought you loved this shade of green.”
“I do.” Marissa almost choked on that lie. “But since it’s summer, maybe I should wear lighter colors. Do you have a softer green?”
Anna folded up the fabric, then looked thoughtfully at Marissa, who had to turn away from the intense scrutiny. “Let’s go see what’s on the shelves in the shop.”
Marissa was glad when she spied a bolt of light green, a softer color with a tiny white flower woven into it. She pointed toward the bolt. “I like that piece. Would it work as well?”
Anna pulled it from the shelf and spread it across the counter. “It might look better in the other style we haven’t made yet.”
Marissa ran her hand gently across the smooth fabric. “I would like that.”
Gerda joined them in the front room. “That piece won’t work as well with this pattern—”
“We’re going to use it for the other style,” Anna interrupted her.
Gerda looked confused. Marissa hoped she wasn’t making too much trouble for the two women. She knew Clari liked them, and she hoped she would get to know them better.
“What about this pattern?” Gerda held up the picture of the style they had planned to use for the emerald-colored lawn material. “What fabric should we use for it?”
Marissa was drawn to a light lavender silk. “Could we use this?”
She couldn’t understand why the other two women looked so stunned. What had she done now? How could she fix the problem if she didn’t know what it was?
“Or, if not, maybe you could suggest some other material.”
Anna spoke first. “No. That’s all right. We’ll use whatever you want. After all, the dress is for you.” She picked up the two bolts of fabric and carried them into the workroom, leaving Gerda and Marissa alone.
Marissa walked over to the shawl that was arranged over a rocking chair. She didn’t remember that piece of furniture being in the dress shop when she was here before. She picked up the garment and draped it around her shoulders. Then she walked to the mirror and studied how it looked on her.
She turned back around and found Gerda watching her. “I like this. I think I’ll ask Pierre to buy it for me the next time he comes with me.”
When Marissa returned to the boardinghouse, she pondered what had happened at the dress shop. Almost every time she looked at Anna or Gerda, they had a funny expression on their faces. It made her feel odd. Did they know who she was and what she was doing? Was that why they kept looking at her that way?
When she was alone at the campsite, Marissa enjoyed reading novels. Pierre was glad to supply plenty of them. One of her favorites was The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Now she felt as if she wore a sign as Hester did in the book. How fitting her dress was in red, which was not a color Marissa liked to wear. Only hers wasn’t a letter A for adultery. Would it be a C for criminal or an L for liar?
She threw herself across the bed. “Mother, why did you have to die and leave us in the hands of that man?” Her crying tired her out. She slept the rest of the day and through the night on top of the covers of her bed.
❧
One of the horses had thrown a shoe. Ollie almost wanted to send Lowell to town instead, since he so often complained about Ollie not doing his share of the work. But this was work. And Ollie wasn’t going to let him change what he did. He was an adult, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
The closer he got to town, the more his thoughts turned to Rissa. It would take a little while for August to shoe the horse. He might have to wait in line, so he should have time to go to the dress shop. If Rissa wasn’t there, he’d check the mercantile and the ice cream shop. He knew she liked ice cream.
At the blacksmith shop, August was waiting on a stranger. Ollie tied the horse he’d led into town to the hitching post in front of the shop. He told August he’d return in about an hour to check on the work. That should give August time to finish what he was doing.
He rode his own horse to the dress shop, then hitched him in front of the mercantile. He glanced up and down the street. Rissa was just coming out of the ice cream shop. He leaned his arms on the saddle and watched her cross the street, heading for the Dress Emporium. He couldn’t ask her to get an ice cream with him, but he could go in and visit with her. She didn’t look up before she pushed the door open. That was strange. He never before had seen her walk with her eyes studying the boards in the sidewalk. He hoped nothing was wrong with her.
He opene
d the door, and the shop bell tinkled. Rissa glanced back toward the entrance. Her gaze encountered his. She blushed and looked at the floor, then turned and hurried into the workroom.
Ollie followed her through the curtains. Both Anna and Gerda looked up when his boots sounded on the wooden floor.
“Ollie!” Anna jumped up and came over to hug him. “It’s good to see you. You haven’t been coming to town as often as you did.” She turned a puzzled look at Rissa, who was studying a folded dress lying on one of the shelves.
He thought it odd that Rissa hadn’t greeted him warmly. He’d come to town in hopes of basking in her sunny smile, but something must be wrong.
Before he had a chance to ask her if she wasn’t feeling well, she scooted through the curtains. “I’ll come back when you’re not busy,” she said softly to Anna.
The bell on the front door tinkled.
Ollie furrowed his brows. “Is something wrong with Rissa?”
Anna and Gerda glanced at each other.
“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” He didn’t care if he did sound frustrated. He was.
❧
Lowell saw Ollie as soon as he returned to the farm. “Did you just get back from town again?”
“Now don’t start in on me.” Ollie frowned. “I had to take the palomino. She threw a shoe.”
Lowell stepped back. “Okay.” He hesitated a moment. “Did something bad happen while you were in town? You weren’t in this kind of mood before you left, were you?”
Ollie stopped and took a deep breath, then looked at Lowell. “Something funny is going on, and I don’t understand it.”
“So what seems to be the problem?”
Ollie kept staring at Lowell. Finally, he took off his cap and tapped it against his leg. “I don’t understand that woman.”
Lowell didn’t have to ask what woman. He knew it was Rissa. What had she done now?
It had been a dry summer. The wind blew a little whirlwind of dust around their booted feet. Ollie kicked at the small dust funnel as if it were a living thing.
“It was almost as if she didn’t know me. She hurried out of the dress shop right after I got there.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “When I asked Anna and Gerda if Rissa was okay, they told me she had been acting strange for a couple of days. She even changed the color of fabric for two of the dresses they’re making for her.”
Lowell slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He could think better in that position. “Isn’t that just something women do? Change their minds? Remember all the times Anna has changed hers without any reason.”
Ollie turned to walk away when Lowell heard him mutter, “But she didn’t even smile at me.”
Lowell pitched clean hay into the stalls he’d mucked out while he mulled over what Ollie had told him. He decided he would see for himself what was going on. Without telling anyone, he saddled his horse and set out across the fields. He could get to town faster that way instead of on the road. He turned his horse down the street toward the mercantile and saw Rissa enter the front door of the Dress Emporium. Good. He would go there first.
When the bell over the door tinkled, Rissa turned from where she was talking to Anna at the counter. Their gazes met, and hers went straight to his heart. She looked so vulnerable. Some pain was hidden in the depths. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be fine, but he didn’t have the right. He wished he did.
“Lowell!” Anna crossed the room and gave him one of her exuberant hugs. “I’m glad to see you again.” She linked her arm with his and pulled him toward the back of the store.
Rissa continued to gaze at him, but she had shuttered the pain, only allowing him to see her sweet smile. Nothing seemed to be wrong with her, except that now she recognized him. Not like the last time he was in town. The smile she gave him was reminiscent of the ones she had bestowed on him when the Le Blancs came to Litchfield earlier in the spring.
❧
Marissa was glad to see Lowell Jenson enter the shop. Ollie’s presence seemed to overwhelm her. Somehow Lowell made her feel at ease. He was restful. She wished she could stay in Litchfield forever. Maybe get to know Lowell better. Perhaps then she could lead a normal life—with a home and family. She would have to stop thinking about it, though. He wouldn’t even look at her if he could see her scarlet letter. If he knew the truth about who she was and what she’d done. She’d tried to push all that into a quiet place in the back of her mind. Lowell’s presence brought it to the forefront. She felt imprisoned by circumstances. Circumstances and an evil man. An evil man named Pierre Le Blanc.
Five
On the way to the farm, Lowell took off his cap and stuffed it in his back pocket. He liked to feel the wind blow through his hair. It made him feel much cooler on a hot summer day. His thoughts were filled with Rissa Le Blanc. When he saw her in town, her glistening black curls were tied away from her face with a ribbon the same color as her blue eyes. It made her look more approachable than when she wore an elaborate hairstyle. She was more beautiful than he remembered, but the pain he glimpsed deep in her eyes disturbed him. What could have put it there? Had someone treated her badly, or was it something else? It made Lowell wonder about her father. No matter how many times they met, Lowell had never felt any warmth from the man. Surely he wouldn’t abuse his own daughter. But something or someone had hurt her.
After he considered the things Anna and Gerda had told him when he was in town, he had to agree that Rissa was acting strangely. It wasn’t any one thing she did that would cause concern; but when they were added together, it was almost as if she were a different person than the young woman he had seen a couple of weeks ago. He had heard about people who put on one face for some and another for others. People like that couldn’t be trusted. But he couldn’t believe Rissa was like that.
Something in his heart wanted to know her better—to help her. But how could he?
When Lowell arrived at the farm, he searched for Ollie. He and his brother needed to talk. They had to heal the breach between them. It was important to their parents—and to both of them too. Lowell had noticed their father had not seemed as strong as he used to be. Maybe he and Ollie could take more of the responsibility for the harder work from him. Father wasn’t a young man anymore.
Finally, Lowell found his brother training one of the colts with a bridle. As Ollie led the young horse around the pasture, he talked to him and rubbed his neck in a soothing manner. Lowell leaned his arms on the top rail of the wooden fence and hiked one of his booted feet onto the lower rail. He took his cap from his pocket and put it on to shade his eyes from the bright sun. Ollie was good with the young animals, that was for sure.
His brother looked up; then he led the horse over to the fence and tied the lead line to the top rail. “Did you want to see me?”
Lowell gazed at his brother. He loved him, in his own way, even if Ollie did make him angry sometimes. Maybe they could work this out. “I’ve been thinking about what Fader said earlier.”
Ollie crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him. “And—?”
Lowell moved away from the fence and stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “And I think he’s right.”
Ollie stared hard at him but didn’t say anything. Why was it so hard for Lowell to get his brother to talk to him? He talked to everyone else. After untying the lead line, Ollie started toward the stable with the young horse. Lowell followed him into the cool darkness of the barn. He sat on a bale of hay and watched Ollie carefully remove the bridle from the animal before he opened the door that led to the pasture. The colt walked through the doorway, then ran toward his mother.
Lowell leaned both forearms on his thighs and let his hands dangle between his knees. “Are you going to talk to me about this or not?”
“What do you think we can do?” At least Ollie must have been thinking about it too.
“Well, do you like the way things are going?”
Lowell looked up at him.
“No, but we don’t seem to agree on much right now.”
Lowell stood up from the bale of hay and thrust his fingers through his windblown hair before stuffing his hands into his back pockets. “You mean, we don’t agree about Rissa Le Blanc.”
Ollie nodded. “That’s all we don’t see eye-to-eye on, isn’t it?”
A headache was starting at the back of Lowell’s neck. He rubbed the spot, but it didn’t help. “I guess I shouldn’t tell you that when I was in town earlier Rissa was more friendly than the last time I was there—but that’s what happened.”
Lowell kept looking down at the ground, then finally glanced up at his brother. Ollie’s green eyes were like ice and bored into Lowell’s.
“I don’t understand that woman at all.” Ollie stomped across the barn and picked up a pitchfork. He started toward the bale where his brother had been sitting only a few moments before.
Lowell didn’t want to be in the way when Ollie started wielding that tool. He stepped closer to the door. “I hate for this to come between us.” Silence fell over the room. Even the sound of the pitchfork slicing through the hay had ceased. “And I hate to upset Fader. Maybe we could just not talk about her—and maybe we could act friendly when we’re working together.” At the door, he turned and studied his brother.
Ollie was still holding the pitchfork. “We could try that.”
Lowell nodded and walked out into the hot sunshine. Why couldn’t the two of them agree? Were they so different? Maybe it was because they were adults now and their ideas weren’t the same. Somehow they had to protect their father’s health. He hadn’t even mentioned that fact to his brother.
His ride and the talk with Ollie had made Lowell thirsty. A cold glass of water pumped straight from the well would taste good right now, so he headed up to the house. When he rounded the end of the porch, he saw his father sitting on the top step with his head drooping against his chest. He looked as if he would have fallen if he hadn’t been leaning against the post. Lowell hurried toward him.
Double Deception Page 4
