by DiAnn Mills
“Let’s go!” Emily rasped in her ear.
“I’m leaving, too,” Claire said, looking sadly at the group who watched them.
As soon as they reached the hall, Emily huffed an angry sigh. “I’m getting more disgusted with this dorm every day. They’re just a bunch of snobs.”
“Do you really think Amelia bumped Caroline on purpose?” Claire asked in her weak little voice.
“Of course she did,” Emily said as they entered the room. Emily closed the door and faced Claire and Caroline. “Amelia has a crush on Ryan Blankenship, and I don’t know why the girls here can’t see through her little act.”
“Act?” Caroline repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I hear Amelia is really hurt that he’s quit courting her. If he ever was. Surely you can see that he’s completely taken with you, Caroline. He speaks to you every chance he gets and stares at you as though you’re a goddess—”
“Oh, I don’t think—” Caroline interrupted.
“No, you don’t think so because you’re too modest, but it’s true. I see the way he looks at you, and I know that look, believe me.” She sank onto the bed and tears filled her eyes for a moment. “I miss Tommy so much I could just die.” Claire looked from Emily back to Caroline, her little face bleak. “I’m so sorry about everything.”
Caroline shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it did, and she felt heartsick when her eyes dropped to the ugly red smear on her bodice. It was the most flattering dress she owned, and if what Emily had said about Amelia was true, she had picked the right dress to ruin.
“Why don’t you take the dress off and let me have it?” Claire suggested. “My father owns a shop here that specializes in cleaning garments. Maybe he can get that stain out.”
“I hate to put your father to any trouble.”
“My father will be glad to help anyone who has helped me. And you have,” she said, touching her hand gently.
Grateful for those words, Caroline changed into one of her old dresses, glancing intermittently at Emily, who had stretched out on the bed, her face to the wall.
After Claire left, Caroline thought of how Emily had defended her. She wanted to tell her she appreciated it, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation.
She cleared her throat. “Emily, why don’t you write a letter to Tommy? Maybe that would make you feel better.”
“I won’t feel better until I see him again,” she wailed.
Caroline’s eyes drifted to her Bible on the nightstand. She sat down on her bed and picked it up, trying to think of a chapter to read to calm her nerves. Was it true what Emily had said? That Ryan really liked her? Was that why Amelia had behaved as she did?
Caroline glanced across at Emily. “Do you think Ryan likes Amelia?”
Emily rolled over and looked at Caroline. “No, of course not. And Amelia is humiliated because she’s made a fool of herself over him.”
“I guess that would be humiliating,” Caroline said. “Feeling an ache in your heart is much worse than getting a stain on your best dress. The dress someone very nice gave me.” She smiled sadly.
“Well Amelia has a heartache and a torn dress, which was her fault, by the way.”
Caroline frowned. “How? I stepped on her dress.”
“That dress was so long it spilled over her feet. She was standing so close that if you took a step, it would be on her dress. And didn’t you notice the way she suddenly backed up?”
Caroline frowned. “It was my fault.”
Emily shook her head. “I still say Amelia is a little schemer, particularly when she dislikes someone.”
“And she dislikes me,” Caroline said with a sigh, looking down at her Bible. She remembered a verse Granny had taught her. “Love your enemies, do good to all which hate you….”
Did Amelia really despise her? And if so, what could be done to change that?
She had been a seamstress all of her life; Granny had taught her well. In her mind’s eye, she saw again the bit of torn fabric. It could easily be reattached to the skirt at the edge of the ruffle. She could do it by hand. Probably tonight.
She glanced at Emily, who had taken up her pen and stationery, still ignoring her books. It would do no good for Caroline to remind her she needed to study; she knew that. If she chose to write a letter to Tommy—and Caroline had no doubt he was the inspiration for the letter—then that was Emily’s business.
She got up from the bed. There was no point in telling Emily her intentions. Emily would only argue with her.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Caroline said, but Emily scarcely heard her.
In the hall, Caroline tried to remember where Amelia’s room was. When they had met in the hall, Amelia had snubbed her, then turned and entered a room. Which room?
Caroline wandered down the hall, noting the numbers on the left side. It had been a door on the left. Halfway down, one door was ajar and she could hear voices coming from inside.
She stopped at the open door. Inside, two girls lounged on their beds while another leaned against a dresser.
“She comes from some—” All three had spotted Caroline and were staring wide-eyed at her.
Caroline focused her attention on Amelia, wearing a beautiful pink lounging gown as she propped against her pillows, munching chocolate candy.
“Excuse me,” she called from the open door.
No one spoke. They just stared at her.
“I came to apologize to you, Amelia. I’m sorry about your dress, and I would like to mend it for you.”
Amelia glanced from Caroline to the other girls. Then her lips curled and her blue eyes shot sparks. “No thanks. I don’t think you would know how to mend a fine garment.”
Caroline had never met anyone so cruel, but rather than be embarrassed now, she was proud of herself for not stooping to Amelia’s level.
“I know how to forgive,” she said slowly, making her point, “and I know how to be polite.” She lifted her chin and turned from the door.
“Isn’t she pathetic?” Amelia’s voice rang out. But no one answered.
Chapter 4
The next day Caroline took a different route to class. During the past week, Ryan had begun waiting for her near the science building. From there, they walked to English class, but not today, not anymore, she had decided. Furthermore, Mary Elizabeth, whose room was next door to her, had informed Caroline that she often saw Ryan and Amelia together. At that, Caroline decided Mary Elizabeth knew more about Amelia and Ryan than Emily, and she must not interfere.
As she traveled the rear path, she glanced toward the front walkway and saw Ryan through the trees. He was standing with his back to her as he looked down the walk toward the approaching girls. She bit her lip, feeling guilty. She had to do this, she told herself, walking faster, forcing her eyes straight ahead.
“I missed you somehow,” Ryan said, pausing at her desk when he entered the room.
She glanced briefly at him and felt her heart wrench. “Sorry,” she said, busily opening her book and searching for a pen.
“Me, too,” he added, then turned and walked away.
She avoided Amelia, but she could feel her eyes upon her at times. As soon as Mrs. Stockton dismissed class, Caroline grabbed her books and was out the door. If Ryan wondered what was wrong with her, perhaps Amelia could explain.
Ryan spent the next week trying to figure out what he had done to offend Caroline. At first, he thought she was only preoccupied with her studies, but now he was certain she was avoiding him. He wanted to ask her why, but he never got the chance. She was always gone before he could catch up with her.
He sat in the library, staring through the window to Brunswick Hall. Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind? She was like a breath of fresh air in his stifled world. Sometimes, after his eyes were dazed from studying, he would think about her and the way she had read her theme on Pine Ridge. To him, she was the most beautiful girl on campus
, for there was something radiant and pure flowing from her soul. He longed to get to know her better; he even had a crazy desire to go to Pine Ridge and see that way of life firsthand. But she continued to ignore him, day after day. He stayed busy with schoolwork, poring over his books long into the night, determined to make his family proud as he followed the family profession of medicine.
“Why didn’t you come to the Addison party?” The voice pulled him back to reality as he shifted against the library table and focused on Amelia. She had slipped into the chair opposite him. He noticed that she was a pretty girl, but she just didn’t appeal to him.
“I’ve been busy with schoolwork. And besides,” he added more truthfully, “I’m tired of parties.” He was flattered that she liked him, and he could tell that she did; but they had nothing in common, other than family background. They had none of the same interests, and he suspected Amelia did not take her studies seriously, which bothered him even more.
“Oh. Well I never see you anywhere,” she said, starting to pout.
“I never go anywhere,” he said, sounding more abrupt than he intended.
Silence lengthened between them as her eyes dropped to his open book. “I’ll let you get back to studying since you seem to enjoy it so much.”
A wry grin tilted his lips as he took the verbal jab with no offense. “See you,” he said, turning back to his anatomy book.
The days grew shorter with the approach of November. The sun’s rays softened as autumn’s cooling breezes settled over the campus. The oaks, maples, and hickories turned to brilliant hues, but Caroline thought that city trees didn’t compare to those out in the country, where there was more room for the branches to spread wide. Still, she appreciated the color and shape and texture, and she was always stopping to pick up an exceptionally pretty leaf to press between the pages of her book. She collected so many they often fell from her books, and most instructors, upon finding another stray leaf on the floor, knew the source.
During the second week of November, she had stopped to capture one last dying leaf when she heard a familiar voice over her shoulder.
“This one is prettier.”
She was kneeling on the grass, reaching for the leaf, when she heard his voice. She turned and looked up. Ryan was holding a huge maple leaf, the most beautiful shade of scarlet she had ever seen.
She gasped. “I thought all the pretty leaves had died. Where did you get that one?”
“In the backyard of my parents’ home.” He helped her to her feet and handed the leaf to her. “I know you collect leaves, so I brought this one back for you.”
Her eyes met his, and her wall of reserve toppled. “That was awfully nice of you,” she said, dropping her gaze to the leaf. It hurt to look into his friendly brown eyes and recall how many times she had avoided and even ignored him.
“There’s a catch,” he said, as she reached for it.
Her hand paused in midair, as her blue eyes widened questioningly.
“You have to have lunch with me.”
“Oh,” she said, dropping her hand.
He tilted his head and stared down at her with shocked eyes. “Is it that painful?”
She laughed softly, seeing the humor. “Of course not. It’s just that…I’m awfully busy these days.”
“I’m sure you are,” he nodded patiently, “but I assume you do take time out to eat.” His eyes swept down the dark taffeta dress she had worn at least once each week. “Still, you look as though you eat like a sparrow.”
She laughed again and allowed herself to look directly into his eyes. Their gazes locked as she stared into his and thought of warm chocolate. “I don’t know why I do that,” she said, blinking and looking away.
“Do what?”
“Compare colors to favorite things.” She shook her head. “I’m battin’ the breeze,” she bit her lip, trying to shut off more country talk.
“Are you comparing this leaf to a place in Pine Ridge?” he asked, trying to catch up with her thoughts.
Her blue eyes danced as she looked at him. She wasn’t about to tell him what she was really thinking. She took the leaf from his hand and placed it in her book. “Thanks.”
He didn’t seem to mind that she hadn’t answered him, and they fell into step along the walkway leading back to the dorm.
“You didn’t answer my question about lunch. Tomorrow. Or any day next week. We’ll go someplace different.”
She took a deep breath, staring at the brick walls of Brunswick Hall. It would be rude to say no, for she couldn’t make excuses for every day of the week. Besides, Amelia was still just as rude as ever, so Caroline had begun to wonder if avoiding Ryan really made a difference after all.
“Tomorrow?” she asked shyly.
Tomorrow was Saturday and she would welcome a chance for a nice lunch, especially with Ryan. Her scholarship covered meals in the dining hall, but she was beginning to get tired of looking at the same walls every day.
“Great.” A wide smile stretched over even white teeth as he looked down at her. “How about a picnic lunch?”
She stopped walking and turned suddenly. “A picnic? I’ve been wantin’ to go on a picnic, but nobody…” Her voice trailed as she glanced toward the dorm then back again. “Where would we go?”
“There’s a park not far from here…and a lake,” he added. “Maybe we’ll see some ducks.”
She smiled at him. “You remembered what I said in my theme about ducks.”
“I remember every word of your theme.” They had reached the steps of the dorm and were gazing into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everything else.
“Hi, Caroline,” Claire called with a smile.
“Hi, Claire. Do you know Ryan Blankenship?” Of course she knew of him, everyone did, but she wanted Ryan to meet Claire. Ever since Claire had returned her dress with most of the stain gone, she had been indebted to her. Claire had even given her a locket on a long chain, measuring it carefully so that the locket covered the small stain on her bodice.
“Hello, Claire,” Ryan was saying. “I’m glad to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.” Claire blushed, smiled quickly at Caroline, then slipped away.
It always touched Caroline to see how Claire carried herself with great dignity, despite her crippled side.
“She’s nice,” he said as his eyes followed Claire briefly before he turned back to Caroline. “I’ll call for you here at noon tomorrow. Will that be okay?”
She nodded, hugging her books. “I’ll be looking forward to it. And thanks for the leaf,” she added, smiling at him.
When Ryan called for her the next day, Caroline wore the green taffeta dress with her locket and a black knit shawl that arrived in the mail for her the day before. She knew Granny had spent weeks knitting it, and as she wrapped the shawl around her, it was as though Granny’s loving arms enveloped her as well.
Ryan was dressed in casual slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt. As she signed out of the dormitory, he opened the front door and she spotted a sleek buggy and black horse waiting at the curb.
She held her tongue, having begun to practice that art now, as they walked to the buggy and Ryan talked about the weather. It was a beautiful fall day with just enough crispness in the air to bring a glow to one’s cheeks and spark a sense of adventure.
When Ryan assisted her into the seat of the buggy, she spotted the picnic basket on the floor.
“Mmm. Something smells good,” she said, smiling at Ryan as he got into the buggy.
“Aretha fried chicken.” He stopped suddenly, as though he had revealed an important secret.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He lifted the reins and clucked to the horse.
“Who is Aretha?” she asked, suspecting he was embarrassed over having a cook.
Ryan hesitated. “Aretha helps Mother in the kitchen.”
Caroline nodded. “Then I’ll look forward to the chicken.”
She had h
eard that his family was wealthy, and now the carriage and his reference to “help” confirmed it. She turned and looked out across the campus as the horse trotted smoothly up the street. Ryan couldn’t help being born into wealth, just as she couldn’t help being born at Pine Ridge, which she considered a blessing.
Her thoughts turned quickly to the scenery around them. Beyond the campus the boulevard was lined with all kinds of shops—a dry goods store, a meat market, another clothing store—with nice buggies and carriages parked in front of them.
“Are you liking Davis?” Ryan asked.
She turned and looked at him. “Yes. By the way, I’ve been wondering about your field of study.” She had wondered a lot, in fact, and had intended to ask before their campus walks got interrupted.
“I’m in premedical studies. I want to be a doctor.”
“That’s wonderful. What made you choose that profession?”
He hesitated as he steered the horse down a side street. “My father is a doctor, and my uncle as well.”
“Here in Birmingham?” she asked.
“Yes. They have a private practice downtown. Here we are.”
Caroline turned and looked out at the park. “This is beautiful. Do you come here often?”
“As often as I can,” he said, getting out of the buggy and coming around to her side. “When school starts to wear on my nerves, I come here and walk around the lake.”
“I reckon it makes you feel better.”
“It does.” He handed her down and then reached for the picnic basket. “I’ve thought of inviting you, but you haven’t been too friendly lately,” he said, pressing her hand into the crook of his arm, with the picnic basket swinging from his other arm.
She turned her face away from him and looked at the lake. “Do you think we’ll see any ducks?” she asked.
He chuckled. “You know how to dodge subjects, don’t you? Yes,” he looked at the lake, “we may see a duck or two.”
They located a small wooden table beside the lake and opened the picnic basket. Spreading a cloth over the planks of the table, Ryan lifted out containers of chicken, potato salad, and chocolate cake.
