PHEBE STOOD OUTSIDE OF ELLIE’S Fine Dresses looking around for Jake. She saw him wave at the blacksmith and head for the hotel. The sunny day didn’t resonate with her anymore, dimmed by the dismal news from Ms. Ellie.
When she tried to press for more answers, Ellie’s customer came out of the fitting room and put an end to the questions. Introductions were made, and Phebe made an appointment for another day to talk about the dress. She couldn’t remember the lady’s name because Ellie’s words pounded in her head. Anthony is dead.
She wanted to know what happened, how old he was at the time of his death. Questions popped into her mind, one by one. All Ellie gave her was a quick whisper in her ear. He died at two years old.
Her leaden feet trudged toward the hotel as she returned Jake’s wave. She’d promised him ice cream. It was unthinkable to disappoint him.
“Did you order a new dress?” Jake asked the question politely, but kept his eye on the hotel window.
“Actually, no. She had other customers. I’ll have to go back. Ready for some ice cream?”
“Sure am!”
Inside, several customers enjoyed a dish of the cold treat. She smiled at them and watched with interest as they put heads together, whispering among themselves while their eyes remained on her.
They found a table in the corner and sat down.
“Guess everyone knows who I am by the reactions I’m getting.”
Jake smiled. “Yep. I told ya. Everybody knows everybody in this town. Can I have a double scoop?”
She looked at him, his face beaming, freckles glowing. For the first time in a long time, he looked like a little boy instead of the stern, grown up, stable boy. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a cool treat like ice cream.
The waitress took their orders. Jake, a double scoop. She settled for a single.
The creamy goodness of vanilla slid down her throat, but she hardly noticed. Her thoughts were on Anthony’s disappearance. I never saw his grave. It should be close to Mary’s.
Every fiber within her strained to put an end to the ice cream diversion so she could hurry back to the cemetery and find Anthony’s gravestone. But Jake looked so happy, she didn’t have the heart to rush him.
The street outside bustled with people going about their daily missions. Phebe allowed herself the distraction of wondering where they went and what particular errand they pursued as she waited for Jake to finish. Some of the women wore expensive looking bonnets with matching parasols, but most were dressed in a more subdued homespun fashion. Several men passed by dressed in the appropriate garb of their trade. From bankers to blacksmiths and cowboys.
She looked away to ask if Jake was finished, but glanced back at the window in time to see a hatless, dark-headed man pass out of her sight. Only his back was visible, and then, he was gone. Something familiar struck her. His bearing, straight and tall, his clothes, different than the other men. Well made, expensive looking.
Where have I seen him before?
And then, it struck her. Edmund! It can’t be. Why on earth would he come to town? I’m simply overwrought. Seeing things that aren’t there.
She turned to hurry Jake along, but was interrupted when his spoon clattered into the empty dish.
“That was so good. Thank you, Ms. Phebe.”
“You’re most welcome. Ready to head home?” She took her last bite and let the spoon clatter into her bowl, as well.
They both laughed.
She paid the bill. Jake held the door for her as they stepped out into the sunshine.
The crowd on the sidewalks cleared a bit. She craned her neck in the direction the dark-haired man was headed, but saw nothing. Just as I thought, my imagination.
Jake helped her into the buggy and off they went.
“Anytime you need to go to town, just let me know. I’m usually available,” he said, a big smile danced on his face.
“Are you sure your offer isn’t about the possibility of more ice cream?”
“Well…”
They chuckled together as Rowena trotted briskly down the trail towards home.
Jake led the horse into the barn and gave her a quick wave.
Her mind was still on Anthony. She turned toward the house, but waited until the barn door closed, then scurried around the old building and onto the path to the cemetery. “I must find Anthony’s grave.”
A light breeze carried the smell of fresh grass, soothing her jangled nerves. Her pace slowed as she breathed in the aroma. “Someone has cut the grass, recently. I wonder who keeps the cemetery grounds? I’ve never seen a caretaker out there? Maybe Jake does that job, too.”
As she drew close to the gate, she saw a round-shouldered old man guiding some sort of contraption between the rows. He was toward the back and didn’t seem to hear her approach.
Unwilling to startle him, she waited until he made a turn.
He looked up with raised brows, his lips parted as if to say something.
“Hello. I’m Phebe, the new governess here. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.” She glanced at the contraption he was pushing. “I’ve never seen such a machine. What it is?”
The old man frowned as he looked down at the mower. “Some new-fangled thing Mr. Powell bought. Says it’ll make the grounds easier to maintain.” He shook his head. “Rather stick to my sheep and a hoe.” He scratched the top of his gray head. “Say, what are you doing out here? No one comes to this place much anymore.”
“I do sometimes. It’s very quiet. I like to read, and this is a good place to find some peace and quiet.”
His frown returned, and his brows knit with disapproval. “Ain’t no place for a young lady to wander around in. Spooky, if you ask me.”
“What’s your name. I told you mine. I’ve not seen you before.”
“Elmer Evans. Not surprised old Winston didn’t mention me. Sorry brother he is.”
“He’s your brother?!”
“Yup. We’ve worked for the family for forty years. Thinks he’s better than me, since he’s got a fancy butler job. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t even have that position.”
“Why, I never even heard his last name. Winston Evans. Well, well.”
“I gotta get back to work. It’s a big cemetery.” He turned back to the mower.
“Of course.”
For a few minutes, she watched him mumble to himself as he tried to wrangle the new mower. Then, she remembered why she came.
Mary’s gravestone shone brightly in the sun next to Jonathan’s. She looked around for a child’s grave marker. There wasn’t one. She checked Edmund’s. Nothing.
Perplexed, she looked again, sure she missed something.
“What are you looking for?”
The old man’s sudden appearance made her jump. “Uh, a grave stone. For a child.”
“There ain’t no child buried back here.”
“You must be mistaken. I was told he died when he was two.”
“I told ya. Ain’t no child buried back here. I ought to know. I know these stones like the back of my hand. What name you lookin’ for? Maybe it’s somewhere else.”
“Anthony McAdams.”
Elmer’s face paled under his timeworn wrinkled tan. “Anthony McAdams?”
“Yes, Mary’s boy.”
“I know who he is. What I don’t know is why your lookin’ in the cemetery.”
“Where else would they bury a child of two?”
The old man sat down on a bench beside the big elm tree. “They wouldn’t have buried him, at all.”
Confused, Phebe watched the old man’s face as his eyes moistened with tears. “I don’t follow what you’re saying. Of course, they would bury him.”
The old man stood and took her hand. “No, no they wouldn’t. Because he ain’t dead.”
WHEN ELMER SPOKE, A CLOUD passed in front of the sun making his revelation even more ominous.
“Not dead? How can that be?” She returned his grip as if willi
ng the answers from him.
“I’ve said too much. They got their reasons for not tellin’ people, I suppose.” He extracted his hand and turned away.
“Elmer, please, I have so many questions. I know it’s not my business, but in some ways, it is. You see—I’ve seen Edmund’s ghost.” She didn’t know what impact this revelation would have, but went with her intuition.
He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Please, Elmer. Talk to me.”
His white head shook back and forth and groaned. “I can’t. I’ll lose my job here. Shouldn’t have told you anythin’.”
“So, you’ve seen Edmund, too?” she asked.
Head still bowed, he answered, “No, but I’ve heard things.”
“What things?”
He turned slowly. “No more questions. It’s time for trimmin’ the weeds around the gravestones. I’ll run out of daylight afore it’s all done. You best go home.”
Instinct told her she pressed too hard. She let him go.
At the gate, she turned for a last look at the elderly man.
He waved and said, “Don’t mention you talked to me. It wouldn’t bode well for either of us.”
“I won’t tell. Take care, Elmer. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
Afraid she’d run into Jake before she got to the house, she hurried along the path. He would still be tending the horses, but could finish early. A sigh of relief escaped her as she slipped inside the kitchen door.
She closed the door quietly with her back to the room.
“Enjoy your day in town, Phebe?” Winston’s voice was quiet.
She spun around. “Oh, I didn’t see you there. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“I’m sorry I startled you.
Her back straightened. She smoothed her skirt. “To answer your question, we had a lovely day. Indulged in a bit of ice cream. I met the lady at the dress shop. I enjoyed the day very much.”
“Good.”
“Where’s Myrtle?”
“Packing.”
“Really, where’s she going?” She glanced around the room.
“She’s packing for the children. They are going to see their aunt in the country. By the way, you’re going on this trip, too.”
She blinked. “I am?”
“Yes, it’s customary. The only reason you didn’t go last time is that you had only just arrived.”
“Oh.”
Winston cleared his throat. “I suggest you go up and start packing.”
“Yes, right away.”
His eyes narrowed and the already prominent frown on his face deepened. But, he only nodded and left the room, leaving her to wonder at what thoughts lay behind his disapproving eyes.
Upstairs, she shut the bedroom door and stood still, staring out the window.
I don’t want to take this trip, right now. There are more questions than answers. I want to go upstairs tonight and try to find Edmund again.
A knock on the door made her jump.
Myrtle stood in the open doorway. “Oh, there ya are, Phebe. Winston told me you were home from your trip into town. You best start packing. You’re going on a special holiday with the children.”
She could only stare at Myrtle.
The cook’s eyes grew round. “Why, whatever is the matter, girl? I thought you’d be beside yourself to go. You’re always running here and there, to the barn, to that depressing cemetery. A trip to the countryside would suit you fine.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I am excited to go. It’s a surprise, that’s all. I thought they only went there once a month. I don’t even know what to pack.”
Myrtle laughed. “Some kind of business they must attend to. Yes, your wardrobe leaves much to be desired. Same bland dresses and sensible shoes. Seems to me it wouldn’t be hard at all. Just throw a couple of dresses in a suitcase and be done with it. They’ll be leaving in an hour.”
Phebe stood in the doorway as Myrtle descended the stairs. An hour. Maybe I’ll have time to go back to the sky-parlor.
The suitcase closed easily as she snapped the latches shut. Two dresses, two pair of shoes, a change of undergarments, a hairbrush, and other toiletries. Not much for a woman my age. I certainly live a simplistic life.
The valise, a bit worn, was all she had. She scooted it into the hallway. After a quick look around, she confirmed no one was around and hurried to the stairway leading to the next floor.
Inside the parlor, she was shocked to see books strewn everywhere as if they’d flown off the shelves.
He’s back.
Now more than ever, she wanted to stay, not accompany the family to the country. If there was a chance to talk to Edmund once more, she wanted to take it.
Maybe I can feign illness. Surely, they won’t want me to go if I have something contagious. A bad cold, influenza, whooping cough. Oh, what am I saying? No one will believe I took sick so quickly. I must make the trip and deal with Edmund when I return.
She closed the door on the littered parlor, hurried downstairs, grabbed the suitcase, and headed for the kitchen.
PHEBE DIDN’T ENJOY THE CARRIAGE ride to the country. The children wiggled constantly, the Powell’s argued about the household finances, and the road was dusty and rough. Adding to her discomfort was the memory of the parlor upstairs in disarray. Was Edmund back or was someone else rummaging around up there?
She stared out the window wishing she was back at Queens Court Acres.
“What world are you in, Phebe?” Mr. Powell’s sharp voice cut through her musings. “I asked you a question?”
“Oh, I am sorry, sir. I guess I was enjoying the scenery.”
He made a funny harrumph sound. “I asked if you are happy to be away from the house for a couple of days. I know your schedule with the children is hectic.”
“Oh, yes indeed. It’s always nice to see new places and break up one’s routine occasionally.”
“Good. You will no doubt accompany us on every trip from here on out. It’s nice to have someone who can occupy the children’s time so Mrs. Powell and I can enjoy some leisure time with my sister.”
“Of course. I’m always happy to spend time with the children.”
Mrs. Powell held a scented handkerchief to her nose, but lowered it long enough to bestow a smile on her. The lacy hankie was returned to her nose post haste, however.
Phebe surmised Mrs. Powell suffered from a bit of motion sickness considering a lavender essence filled the carriage. In turn, the fragrant bouquet calmed her, as well.
An hour passed, and she wondered if they would ever arrive at their destination. The lavender faded, replaced with the odor of sweating horses mixed with the dust of the road. The children fell asleep against one another soothed by the rocking carriage. The Powell’s stopped arguing and fell into a mutual silence.
At least, calm prevails now. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer.
“Ah, here we are. Just around the corner,” Mr. Powell announced.
Relieved, Phebe sat straighter, smoothed her skirt, and adjusted her bonnet in preparation of meeting the extended family.
The horses came to a stop in front of a modest farm house, well-maintained with a neatly trimmed green lawn, and a great wrap-around porch filled with bright, white rocking chairs. All in all, it was very inviting.
A woman dressed in gardening attire ran down the pathway, shears waving in gloved hands, large hat flopping. “Children! You’re here. Come, come. Let’s have a glass of lemonade.”
Everyone filed out of the carriage and embraced the woman.
Phebe took in the whole of Aunt Martha. Unruly gray hair peeked out from under the large brim of a straw hat. She was dressed in a tan billowing skirt with a long loose-fitting light green jacket. Piercing blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Although disheveled, there was a certain gentility about her.
Mr. Powell turned to her. “This is the new governess I told you about. Phebe Whiteside.”
Phebe curtseyed. “
Nice to meet you, Mrs. …”
“Just call me Martha. We don’t stand on formality here. I’m so glad to meet you, finally. Robert has told me so much about you.”
She blushed. “All good, I hope.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Come, let’s sit on the porch. I’ll get Maggie to bring us some ice-cold lemonade.”
Martha shed her gloves and hat and dropped them on a small table near the stairs landing. While everyone found a chair, she bustled into the house, the screen door banging shut.
The countryside was beautiful with rolling hills as far as you could see. Some trees fanned out around the grounds and a pond glistened in the distance. She noticed the well-kept garden at the side of the house and hoped she’d get a chance to explore.
Martha burst out of the front door. “Good, I’m glad everyone is settled. Maggie is bringing the refreshments. We’ll visit and catch up for a bit. The children can take Phebe for a walk around the grounds, so she can stretch her legs when she feels up to it.” She turned to Mrs. Powell. “Emma, I’ve found the most beautiful fabric. I know it will make a stunning dress for you.”
Mr. Powell lit up a cigar while the ladies chatted.
The front door opened and a young girl of about twelve eased onto the porch with a large tray. The glasses rattled as she set it on the main table.
“Lemonade?”
“Why, yes, thank you.” The tart liquid refreshed her instantly as she leaned back in the rocker. Maybe this is what I needed after all. To get away and clear my head.
While the others were served, Phebe watched the lovely young lady. Her long brown hair, tied back in a red ribbon, complimented a dewy complexion and big brown eyes.
I wonder how she fits into this unusual family?
The children rebounded from the long trip invigorated and eager to explore.
Elizabet tugged on her hand. “Have you rested enough? I have so much to show you. You can come with me. The boys want to ride the pony in the back.”
She laughed at the child. “I suppose I am. I’m sure there are lots of things to explore around here. I’m always up for a good adventure.”
Someone already removed their bags from the carriage. They sat on the bottom step.
Somewhere Between Page 10
