by Lorin Grace
“Miss Garrett, what is the reason for dressing in such a manner?”
Elizabeth hung her head and gave no answer.
Gideon could not help but deliver the lecture he’d planned the moment Elizabeth had loosened her fichu during the service. “You embarrassed your aunt, the reverend, and every God-fearing member of the congregation. The only man not embarrassed is the one man you should want nothing to do with, as you have discovered. How could you embarrass Mina in such a manner? For her sake alone you should have stayed within the confines of propriety. Was it not enough your dress attracted the attention of every member of the congregation? Did you not see even the children pointing? Not another woman in the congregation has the money to purchase a dress like that. And to show yourself as … as a … as a—Until this morning I thought I had taken the full measure of your character. I thought your father too harsh in his assessment. Now I am not so sure he was wrong.”
Elizabeth’s head shot up, anger flashing in her eyes. “What do you know of my father’s opinion of me?”
Gideon winced and stepped back. “Enough to know he would be upset to see his daughter in such a state.”
“Mr. Frost, what my father thinks is hardly any of your affair.” Elizabeth turned and continued to walk down the road to her gate, somewhat unsteady.
Gideon caught up with her in two strides. “I agree. What your father thinks is not the problem. The problem is your behavior, not only in the churchyard but during the sermon. Virtuous women do not undress during services.”
Elizabeth stopped abruptly, using the sleeve of the coat to wipe her face before turning to face him. “Undress? Disrobe? I did nothing of the sort. My fichu slipped. It was an accident! And do you think I invited Mr. Butler to take such liberties? No gentleman would ever—”
“Mr. Butler is not a gentleman.
“Then we are agreed on that point.”
“I was referring to your removing your scarf during the sermon, not your current state.”
“I did not disrobe. I was trying to be covered and my hand slipped.” She lifted her chin.
“Slipped? No, your entire display this morning was for some other purpose. You may not have intended for the scene in the churchyard, but you did intend for some reaction. Why else would you wear a red dress to church?”
“I wore it because it was my favorite. And I—” Elizabeth hiccupped. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it? I shall never wear the dress again. Not that it will matter to you, as I doubt Father will allow me to stay the week once he hears. He will never believe I didn’t plan it all. He will blow it all out of proportion just like you are. I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
Something in her voice stopped Gideon from responding. Sincerity? Remorse? Could he be wrong and the fichu slipped as she had said?
I will never rush to judgment. The words he’d penned during his seminary years after talking with an old sailor on the wharf came to mind. He’d broken his vow again.
The cool wind blew across the empty field, ruffling Gideon’s shirtsleeves. Several yards down the road, his coat kept Elizabeth warm. He followed after her lest Mr. Butler return. The harsh words he’d uttered begged for an apology. He hadn’t asked if she was injured or offered his handkerchief to ease the bleeding. He was a cad.
Holding the coat, her dress, and the hat became almost impossible as the wind started to blow. Elizabeth dropped the hat and wiggled her arms into the sleeves of Gideon’s coat, the fabric flapping beyond her fingertips. The coarse wool scraped against her shoulder where her dress no longer protected it. She heard Gideon behind her. She stepped on the center of the hat, giving it a twist and flattening the red flower before quickening her pace.
If only he would leave her alone. The momentary look of disgust on his face when she’d caught his eye during the sermon hurt as much as the lecture he’d just given her. Never had any man looked at her like that.
New tears threatened. She’d only wanted Gideon to see her as a woman. Not Mr. Butler. Certainly not him. The field before her blurred, and she stepped off the road and into a reasonably dry furrow.
“Where are you going?” Gideon’s familiar hand gripped her elbow, but this time his grip was gentle and his voice inquiring, not accusatory.
Unable to answer, Elizabeth pointed to her boulder.
“I don’t think that is a good idea. You shouldn’t be out alone in case—and I shouldn’t be alone with you. Mina will be worried. Let me escort you back to the house.”
Elizabeth shrugged off Gideon’s hand and took another step forward. Her foot sank into something unearth like, and she stepped back. The farmer had fertilized the field. Her favorite fichu was gone, her best dress was torn beyond repair, and now her slipper was coated in manure. Mina had warned her against wearing the silk shoes. Ruined. Everything was ruined. She brought her hands to her face, or tried to, but the coat sleeves had her hands encased, and the wool fibers scraped against her cheeks. She shook the sleeves down to free her hands.
As soon as they were free, a handkerchief was set in them. She wiped her eyes before looking up at Gideon.
He held out his arm and nodded to the road. Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm and followed him back out of the field.
They walked in silence. Just as well. If he lectured again, she felt she might shatter like one of Aunt Mina’s bowls. Each time her soiled slipper met the road, she listened to it echoing “Ruined, ruined, ruined.” Not completely, but enough to cement her reputation in this little town, and it was all her fault.
When they came to the place where she’d discarded her hat, Gideon bent to pick it up.
They turned the corner, and the Purdy’s house came into view, as did others. It seemed to Elizabeth that far too many people were resting on their porches after church this early in March. She extracted her hand from Gideon’s arm.
“I should not have allowed you to escort me—your reputation. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean—” Elizabeth bit her lip. One more word would set her tears to falling again. She concentrated on the dormer window of Aunt Mina’s house. Gideon remained at her side, his fingers on the coat at her elbow giving her confidence.
He wasn’t leaving her side. After the lecture he’d given her, he should have fled. Mr. Frost was the most confusing man. Perhaps if her head hurt less, she would understand.
Elizabeth walked to the back of the house, Gideon matching her step for step.
At the bottom stair, Elizabeth stepped out of her slipper. She had no desire to foul Aunt Mina’s kitchen with it or scrub floors this afternoon. She kept her head down so as to not see Gideon’s reaction to the impropriety of baring her foot. “I’ll return your coat straight away.” She hurried into the house.
Halfway up to her room, she heard Aunt Mina greeting Gideon. What she would give to never have to come back down the stairs.
Reverend Porter frowned. The conversation was not going as Gideon hoped. He wished he could pace as the reverend did.
“I could have you charged for any number of Lord’s day violations, such as fighting with one of our wealthiest citizens. Only a half hour ago he was by pledging the rest of the funds we need to complete our building.”
“Didn’t you wonder about his face?”
The reverend paused. “I did ask, but he claimed his horse knocked him in the head—a burr caught under the saddle or some such.” Waving his hand as if to dismiss the incident, he continued. “I am more concerned with Miss Garrett’s actions. If the other girls follow her example, can you imagine what will happen to my little flock? I shall have to plan the sermon. I cannot condone her behavior.”
“Her behavior? What of his? A few more minutes and I would not have been able to save her from him.”
“But if she had dressed in a more appropriate way, you would not have needed to.”
“Did she not provide the temptation?”
The room grew stiflingly hot. Gideon needed out. Now. The temptation to hit something, namely the reverend, grew. “I see your point, but I do not agree. I think I had best take my leave for the afternoon.” Not wanting to hear his answer, Gideon left the reverend’s office intent on saddling Jordan. A good ride would clear his mind.
Mina rocked in her chair near the window. The Bible sat in her lap, but she hadn’t turned a page for more than half an hour. She needed wisdom. Gideon’s brief description of his fight with Mr. Butler and his poor reaction afterward to Elizabeth caused her head and heart to ache.
After he’d finished his story, Elizabeth had reappeared, dressed in her gray dress, her hair back in its tight bun, staying only long enough to hand Gideon his coat and a muttered apology. Then she’d retreated to her room, where she remained.
Mina debated the merits of reporting today’s incident to Ebenezer. When Elizabeth had descended the stairs in the red gown this morning, she’d been disappointed, but she had not foreseen the day’s events. Regardless of what she wore to church, Elizabeth did not deserve the unwanted attentions of Mr. Butler. Of course, many would disagree with this view. She wouldn’t be surprised if next week’s sermon were entitled “A Virtuous Woman.” She doubted Mr. Butler would be publicly censured. He never had been before. But Elizabeth was not a servant or a poor farmer’s daughter; her father held both position and money. However, given Ebenezer’s feelings toward Elizabeth and her need to reform, he would take Mr. Butler’s side and force an apology or, worse, a marriage.
Mina shuddered at the thought. Pity Mr. Butler’s wife, may it not be her dear Elizabeth. Perhaps it was best to leave this particular incident out of her next correspondence.
The shadows lengthened on the wall. Mina set the Bible aside and went to the cabinet to retrieve the witch hazel. She needed a closer look at Elizabeth’s cuts and bruises.
Bones and stairs creaked as Mina made her way upstairs. Her knock at the door went unanswered. As Mina pushed the door open and peeked in, long shadows crept across the room. Elizabeth lay facedown on the bed, her shoulders shuddering as if she’d tried to stop crying for a while.
Mina sat on the bed in the space next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sit up, child. Let me see those bruises.”
A ragged breath escaped Elizabeth’s lips before she pushed herself up. Mina fought to keep a neutral expression. The left side of Elizabeth’s face was swollen and purplish. Her eye peeked through a narrow slit. Dried blood surrounded a cut that must have come from the ring Mr. Butler usually wore.
“Open your mouth. Did he loosen any teeth?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth a fraction of an inch.
“Can you open it farther?”
Mina’s brow furrowed at the mumbled no. She uncorked the witch hazel and poured some on a cloth. Gently she dabbed Elizabeth’s face. “Where else do you hurt?”
Elizabeth held her palms up. The twigs and rocks had not cushioned her fall. Mina administered to half a dozen cuts.
“Any more?”
Elizabeth’s face reddened where it wasn’t already purple as she fumbled with the buttons near her collar and turned her back to her aunt.
Mina stifled a gasp as Elizabeth lowered the dress over her shoulders. Scratches covered Elizabeth’s back. Mina leaned closer to examine them. “There are splinters in some of these. You will need to come down to the kitchen where I have better light.” Mina shook her head as she lifted the dress back onto her niece’s shoulders.
Elizabeth buttoned her dress before turning around. “Is Gideon … ?”
“No, he is not here. When he comes, I shall have him bring us ice from the ice house.” Mina softened her features in response to the terror in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Don’t you worry. I will not let him in.”
Mina capped the witch hazel and stood. She did not relish going back down, knowing her hips would creak more than the stairs. Gripping the handrail, she descended one step at a time. When Elizabeth lingered in the bedroom, Mina turned back to call her and missed the next step.
Sixteen
The terrible sounds of Mina’s fall echoed through the little house. Elizabeth ran from her room and dropped the papers she’d gathered when she saw Aunt Mina lying at the bottom of the stairs.
The scent of witch hazel drifted up from the broken bottle next to her aunt’s still form. Elizabeth flew down the stairs, ignoring the feeble protests of her own bruises. “Aunt Mina! Aunt Mina!”
Blood oozed from a gash in her aunt’s forehead. Elizabeth pressed the witch-hazel-soaked cloth to the wound to try to stop the bleeding.
“Help! Oh, help!” But there was no one to hear her feeble request. Not even God. Would God ever listen to her after today?
A horse neighed. Jordan!
Elizabeth patted the shoulder of her unconscious aunt and dashed out the kitchen door.
“Help!” Her volume increased at the cost of clarity. She threw open the barn door and yelled again.
Gideon took two strides to reach her and held her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong? Is Butler here?”
“No!” It was hard to get the words out through her swollen mouth. She stepped out of his hold, grabbed his hand, and tried to pull him to the house, but he stood there as if confused.
“Aunt Mina fell!” she finally yelled, giving one more tug.
When Gideon realized what had happened, he began pulling her to the open kitchen door. Together they ran into the house. Mina’s inert form remained at the bottom of the stairs. Gideon beat Elizabeth to her side.
Elizabeth started to kneel down when Gideon’s hand shot out. “Glass!”
Shards of the witch-hazel bottle littered the floor. Seeing she couldn’t get close to her aunt, Elizabeth did the next best thing. She grabbed the broom and cleaned up the mess. After all, cleaning was what Aunt Mina would have her do.
Gideon finished examining Mina. “I don’t think anything is broken. I’m going to move her to her bed. Can you go get it ready?”
Elizabeth nodded and crossed the hall to her aunt’s room, opening the door wide. She pulled back the quilts, then grabbed the towel from the washstand and laid it over the pillow. Aunt Mina looked so small in Gideon’s arms.
“Light.”
Elizabeth lit the lantern on the bedside table.
“Water and a clean cloth.” Gideon’s vocabulary shrank with the enormity of the situation.
“Docthor?” Elizabeth winced at the garbled word, but her mouth just would not work correctly.
Gideon gave her a long look before giving her a nod. “I’ll go. No offense, but he might think you are the patient.”
Elizabeth tried to smile at what she hoped was a joke. The smile felt lopsided.
“Hold this.” He placed her hand where he held the bloody cloth. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If she wakes up, keep her in bed.” Before hurrying out the door, Gideon gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder.
Elizabeth turned her attention to her aunt and hoped God would answer her prayers for Aunt Mina’s sake.
East Stoughton didn’t have a doctor.
Gideon headed west along Page Street to Stoughton, hoping one of the doctors was at home. Jordan matched Gideon’s need for haste, but it seemed as if Stoughton had moved several miles farther west. If he could have asked Jordan, the horse would have told him he’d set a new personal record for the three-mile run. When the houses began to appear closer together, relief filled Gideon.
The first doctor, Dr. Whiting, was not only home but was well acquainted with Mina Richards. Gideon waited only until Doctor Whiting climbed into his own carriage before
retracing his way to Mina’s.
Gideon wanted to run immediately into the house to see if Mina’s condition had changed, but leaving Jordan in a lather would be irresponsible, so he gave the horse an extra handful of oats as the doctor pulled his carriage around by the barn.
As Doctor Whiting let himself in the back door, he called over his shoulder for Gideon to see to his animal.
Gideon prayed for Mina as he rubbed down the doctor’s horse. Near the end, he added a plea for Elizabeth. Her bruises were far worse than he’d thought.
Entering the house, he found Elizabeth at the kitchen table with an untouched bowl of milk toast before her. Elizabeth looked up at him with her eyes full of tears.
“Mina?”
“She woke up.” She swiveled to stare at the closed bedroom door.
Gideon let out a sigh and settled onto the bench on the opposite side of the table. Elizabeth turned back to him. She looked from her bowl to him before getting up and getting him a plate of bread and cheese and a bowl of the stew left from the earlier meal. She set it in front of him before returning to her seat.
“Does it hurt to talk?”
“Not much.” Elizabeth stirred her milk toast but didn’t eat it.
“May I pray?”
Elizabeth placed her hands in her lap and bowed her head. Gideon took the action as permission and prayed over the meal and for Mina’s and Elizabeth’s recoveries. Gideon heard her soft amen as he finished the prayer.
One bite of the meat in the stew revealed why Elizabeth wasn’t eating it. He chewed steadily before asking her the questions he hadn’t earlier. “How did Mina fall?”
“My fault.”
“You pushed her?” Gideon fought to keep his voice steady.
“No! She came up to—with hazel.” Elizabeth made a dabbing motion in front of her face, then opened her hand.
