by Megan Besing
Poor Wade followed in her wake and shrugged. “I’m sorry you have to miss it.”
Nora made an unsuccessful attempt at a smile. “I’ve always enjoyed theater productions. My husband would take me to Richmond several times a year so we could see a show or two.”
“But we need someone to watch the children.” Maude humphed. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to go alone. I’m sure it’s going to be nothing but couples.”
Wade tugged on his waistcoat. “Actually—”
“Don’t be impertinent, Wade. You know those wild children of yours can’t be left unattended. Really, what are you thinking? Nora has to stay here, and that’s the end of that.”
Wade trailed after his wife and out the door. A few muffled words from Maude and the wagon wheels creaked as the couple drove away. Hot tears burned the back of Nora’s throat.
She turned just as William pushed James into the tub, water sloshing over the floor. James came up spluttering. “You dirty, rotten—”
“Boys.”
They both turned to her.
“William, you will go to the sink and start drying and putting away the dinner dishes. James, since you are already in the tub, take off your clothes, and I’ll get you a bar of soap and a towel for your bath.” She drew the curtain around the tub as she left to procure the promised items.
Thirty minutes later and still only James had been bathed, and William had dropped and broken one of the fine china cups Maude had shipped from Virginia. At least Nora had gotten Alice into bed.
Then someone knocked on the door. Just what she needed at this moment. Nora wiped her hands on her apron and did her best to smooth her hair back before opening the door to the caller.
A rotund older woman stood on the step, her buggy and sorrel mare behind her. “Good evening, dear. I’m Polly Turnbull. You must be either Nora or Maude. My husband heard all about what happened at the train this week and told me. May I come in for a minute?”
“I’m Nora, and well, Mr. and Mrs. Yates have gone to see the play, and I’m trying to give the boys a bath and get them to bed.”
“What? You aren’t going yourself?”
“Someone must see to the children.”
Mrs. Turnbull laughed, her plump cheeks rosy. “We can’t have that, can we? I’ll watch these angels. You go pretty yourself and get over to the schoolhouse before you miss it. We may be a small community, but we have a talented group of actors.”
“Have you stayed with the children before?”
“Oh, many times.”
“And survived?” Nora clapped her mouth shut at her words.
Mrs. Turnbull chuckled and pulled four peppermint sticks from her apron pocket. “They’ll do anything for candy. Now get going with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t stand here and argue with me. You’ll miss the best part.”
“Don’t you want to see it?”
“My Henry is part of the production. I’ve watched practice all week. I could repeat the lines in my sleep. Hurry up. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
In the tiny bedroom she shared with Alice, Nora pulled on her best gown, a brown silk windowpane dress with a long brown silk bow in the back. Peering into the small looking glass, she combed her hair and fastened it with tortoiseshell combs. On the bed, Alice curled in a ball and sighed in her sleep.
Nora returned to the kitchen. Charles pulled the curtain shut, preparing to bathe. This woman was a miracle worker.
“No jewelry?” Mrs. Turnbull oversaw William who worked sums on a slate at the kitchen table.
All sold to pay off debts. “No.”
“Well then, I have just the thing.” She unfastened the cameo brooch from her neckline and handed it to Nora. “Put it on, dear.”
There was no sense in arguing with her. Nora did as requested.
Mrs. Turnbull took a step back. “There. You’re a true beauty.”
“But I don’t have any way to get there.”
“My horse and buggy, of course. And you’d better ride hard, or you’ll miss everything.”
Head whirling, Nora went to the buggy and picked up the reins. Maude would be furious if she found out Nora had left the children.
She would just have to make sure Maude never found out.
Chapter 4
Out of breath, Nora stepped into the tiny school’s coatroom just as the curtain rose on the play to thunderous applause. She tiptoed into the classroom and spied Wade and Maude near the front, close to the stage, Maude’s back stiff and straight, Wade slumped over, crushing his felt hat in his hands.
No seats remained open, so she leaned against the back wall, squeezed in between it and the last row of chairs, and fanned herself against the warm evening.
The bedsheet-turned-curtain parted, and a large man dressed as a medieval king stepped forward. Was this Mr. Turnbull? Though his soliloquy was lengthy, he delivered it with aplomb and received a hearty round of applause for his efforts. The play continued and featured a regal, if not rather manly, queen, and several courtiers.
Nora relaxed against the wall and lost herself in the play. She laughed and clapped with the rest of the audience. And then the jester entered the stage. He wore green pants, a green shirt, and a black mask that covered his entire face. Sewn onto the hems of his pants and the wrists of his shirt were jingle bells that tinkled every time he moved. He gestured wide and knocked the queen over, the actor doing an admirable job of playing it up. The audience roared.
He stumbled across the stage and pulled over the king’s table, tin plates and cups flying everywhere. Then he backed up toward a flaming candelabra, acting as if he burned his backside, screaming like a woman. The audience cheered its appreciation. Nora couldn’t help but join the merriment.
For a blink-and-you-miss-it town, they sure had a fine and talented acting company. This was as good as the last show she’d seen in Richmond. Maybe even better.
By the time the play wound down, Nora’s sides ached from all the laughing, and her hands tingled with all the clapping. Mrs. Turnbull would be sorry she missed the theatrics.
The master of ceremonies took the stage and announced that refreshments would be served as soon as the ladies got the tables set up. Reality crashed around Nora. That meant Maude would leave her seat, turn around, and spy Nora.
If only she could stay and get to know some of the townswomen. There weren’t many of them, but having a friend here would ease the transition. Not that she’d have much time for visiting with having to keep four rambunctious children in check, but at least she could greet them by name at church on Sundays.
Maude rose, raised her shoulders, and shook her head. Probably finding something to complain about regarding the production.
Any moment she would spin around.
Heat rose in Nora’s neck. She had to get out of here, but the mingling crowd blocked the exit. She ducked behind a taller, broader man as Maude scooted toward the aisle.
“Well, it wasn’t like back in Virginia, that’s for sure. There we have professional theater. This just doesn’t measure up to those standards.”
Nora cringed. Maude’s words would never ingratiate her with the local people.
Ah, a sliver of light, an opening. Nora hurried toward it. She had to get home and in bed before Maude and Wade arrived.
“Excuse me, excuse me, please.” She wound her way by several gentlemen discussing something or another about their cotton crops.
“Oh, Nora? She’s good with the children and handy around the kitchen. That’s about all I can say for her.” Was Maude’s voice closer than before?
The door was right in front of Nora. She sprinted for it.
Smack. Right into something.
No, someone.
The masked, green-clad jester. He grabbed her by the elbow and steadied her. “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss.”
“If you’ll pardon me, I must be going.” The words rushed over her lips.
He held on to h
er, his grasp firm. “Wouldn’t you care to stay for refreshments? Pies and cakes, from what I understand.”
“Please, I have to get some fresh air.”
“Are you ill? Forgive my poor manners.” But instead of letting go, he steered her through the door and onto the school’s steps. “Is this better?”
With her free hand, she patted her flaming cheek. “Yes, thank you, but I’ll feel even better when I get home.” She moved to descend the stairs.
“I can’t let you leave like this.”
She turned to face him. “Why not?”
He cleared his throat, his voice deep and warm, his accent tinged with Virginia. “If you’re unwell, you shouldn’t go until you’ve recovered a bit. Have some pie and coffee, at the very least. I insist. Let me get you something. Promise you’ll still be here when I get back?”
A desperate plea? No, just a thoughtful, concerned man. “I’ll be here.” Praying the entire time that Maude and Wade wouldn’t decide to go home early. She suppressed a nervous giggle.
Josiah’s heart pounded faster now than it had when he first stepped onstage tonight. His jester’s mask hid his identity, and his green pants covered his wooden leg. But he’d almost stopped breathing when he spied Nora standing alone in the back of the room. As beautiful as the day she stepped off the train. Maybe more. Definitely more.
With shaking hands, he poured two cups of coffee. On top of the cups, he balanced two slices of Mrs. Turnbull’s famous butter cake.
Just as he reached the front door, someone clapped him on the shoulder. “Where are you off to?”
Wade. “Um, just passing out refreshments.”
“I thought the ladies were doing that.”
“I, um…” Why didn’t he want to tell Wade that Nora, if she kept her promise, stood just outside the door?
“Good show. In a way, your standing up your bride is working out for me. Nora is home with the kids, and so me and the missus can get out for the night.”
She was supposed to be watching Wade’s children? So then, who was with them?
“Wade, I need a drink. I’m positively parched.” A woman called across the room.
Josiah exhaled. “Sounds like you’re needed elsewhere.”
Like a defeated child, Wade slunk away. Before anyone else could detain him, Josiah slipped outside. Nora stood right where he’d left her. The moonlight splashed across her cheek. He gasped at her beauty. And tripped down the last stair, balancing the plates and cups like he was part of a circus.
She turned. “Oh, be careful.” The plate in his right hand teetered and tottered, and she caught it in the nick of time.
Could the earth just open up and swallow him right now? “I brought you a piece of cake.” His voice squeaked.
“Thank you.” Even in the dim light, he caught her soft, gentle smile. Like she didn’t even notice what a fool he was making of himself. Then again, he was dressed like a jester.
“I’m Nora Green, by the way.”
“Yes, I know.” Pesky squeaking vocal chords. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Wade told me about you.”
“You know Wade? And what about J. M. Griffin? Do you know him?”
Better than anyone in the world. “Never have met him. He keeps to himself and likes it that way. I heard of your plight, but I wouldn’t go bothering him. Best just to stay on with Wade and his new wife.”
Her shoulders sagged. “I was so hoping to meet him tonight. Maybe he and I could get to know each other and…Well, that doesn’t sound like it’s going to happen.”
“I’m mighty sorry about that.”
She waved him off. “It’s not your fault. You’re not the one who left me at the altar. I didn’t catch your name, though.”
He swallowed hard. What was he going to tell her? Quick, quick. “Just call me the jester. Everyone does.” If by everyone, you meant him.
“Aren’t you warm with the mask still on?”
“Not at all. The director told us to stay in costume during the refreshment time, sort of to keep the feeling of the play alive for a little while longer.” Like she was going to believe that.
“Oh, I see.”
Better to switch topics before he got in any deeper. “Wade told me something curious just now. He’s under the impression that you are at home with his children.”
“Oh, I was. And please, don’t tell him I was here.” She touched his forearm, and tingles raced up to his elbow and down to his fingers. “Mrs. Turnbull came over and volunteered to stay with the little ones so I could attend. Wasn’t that kind of her? She even lent me this brooch and her buggy.”
“She does have the kindest heart. It sounds like you’re making friends already.”
“Just the one. Maude, Wade’s wife, hasn’t been feeling well, so I’ve taken on the responsibility of running the household.”
Muffled voices came from inside, and then one shrill one. “Really, Wade, I’m exhausted. You drag me to this second-rate production when I’m just off the train from Virginia.”
Nora sucked in her breath and thrust her plate and cup at Josiah. “I have to go. Remember not to tell anyone I was here.”
“Nora.”
With a swish of her hoop skirt, she turned and ran to Mrs. Turnbull’s buggy. Before he could sort out what was happening, she was nothing more than a puff of dust in the starlight.
The door opened, and Maude and Wade left the building.
Josiah glanced at the ground, and a white square of lacy fabric caught his eye. He picked it up. Nora’s handkerchief. He sniffed it.
Her sweet rosewater scent clung to it.
Chapter 5
Nora stood at the stove stirring the oatmeal, all the while staring out the window and across the cotton fields. She sighed. All night long, she’d dreamed of the jester. Jester. Was that his name or some nickname he’d picked up somewhere? A bit strange that he didn’t take off his mask or tell her much about himself, yet he knew all about her.
Then again, he was so sweet and took such good care of her when he thought she was overcome with the heat, helping her outside and getting her some refreshments. And, at least so far, he’d kept his word. Maude and Wade had returned home moments after Mrs. Turnbull left the house and Nora had fled to her room. Neither Maude nor Wade mentioned seeing her.
But who was he? When would she see him again? Maybe he could be an alternative to the reclusive J. M. Griffin.
“What is that I smell burning?”
At the sound of Maude’s voice, Nora jumped and flicked the spoon so that oatmeal splattered on the wall beside her. Now she needed to add cleaning the wall to today’s long list of chores.
“Aren’t you paying attention to anything? I’ve been calling for you for the past ten minutes. Alice’s hair is tangled, and she won’t let me anywhere near her with a brush. And Charles wet the bed. Again. Really, I don’t understand how a boy of seven can’t use the chamber pot at night. For goodness’ sake, pull that oatmeal off the heat. You’ve ruined our breakfast.”
Nora grabbed the pot from the stove, but the scorched mess was beyond saving. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”
“Well, have it hurry back here.”
Pain throbbed behind Nora’s right eye.
Maude rubbed her temples. “I have such a headache, I must go lie down again. Keep the children quiet so they don’t disturb me.”
“But…”
Before Nora could say a second word, Maude disappeared down the hall, the bedroom door slamming shut after her. Nora took a deep breath, let it out a little at a time, and wiped her hands on her apron. What had to be done had to be done.
Within half an hour, she had the sheets soaking in a tub outside, Alice dressed and combed, and a batch of pancakes on the griddle. Wade and the children had just situated themselves around the table when the front door squeaked open.
“Hello? What is that delicious smell?”
Wade scraped back his chair. “Josiah. Didn’t expect to see you
this morning.”
A young man entered the room, Wade’s junior by a few years. With his dark brown hair and strong, large hands, he held an air of familiarity. But Nora couldn’t place him. She shook her head. He’d probably been one of the many men at the play last night.
He doffed his felt hat and nodded at Nora. “I’m Josiah Abbott, the Yates’s neighbor.”
“Nora Green, Mrs. Yates’s stepsister.”
“I’ve heard so much about you. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Won’t you sit and have breakfast with us? And a cup of coffee?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He seated himself in Maude’s empty chair and dug right into a stack of flapjacks.
Nora kept the griddle going. “Were you at the play last night, Mr. Abbott?”
“No, ma’am, I didn’t make it.”
Wade raised one of his eyebrows. “But didn’t you—”
“Ate something that didn’t agree with me.” Josiah flashed Wade a narrow-eyed glance. What was that all about?
Josiah leaned over to Alice and chucked her under the chin. “But I bet you went in all your finery, didn’t you, Miss Yates?”
Alice giggled. “I wented to bed, like Miss Nora told me to do.”
“Aren’t you the little angel?” Josiah gave Nora such an intense stare that she wriggled under his gaze. “What about you, Miss Green? Did you enjoy the production?”
“Um.” Heat rose up her neck, and not from the warmth of the stove. “I stayed home with the children to give Mr. and Mrs. Yates an evening together.”
James opened his mouth and drew in a breath. Was he going to tattle on her? “James, could you get more milk from the cold cellar? Right now.” Nora crossed her arms and glared at him. So many furtive glances this morning.
The rest of breakfast passed in an easy manner, and soon the children scattered without last night’s secret being divulged. With that weight off her shoulders, Nora picked up a stack of plates to carry to the sink.
