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The Letter (Carter Sisters Series Book 4)

Page 8

by Morgan Dawson


  “Wow. Oliver told us he dropped you off at a large house, but I didn’t know it was that large,” Ophelia says, setting a plate of cookies on the table.

  Sitting down, I look up at her. “Neither did I.”

  “How’s your list of tasks coming along?” Ada takes a cookie off the plate and bites into it.

  “Pretty well. I’ve been to see my ma’s childhood home which was really special. And I went to a bakery where she used to go when she was little.”

  Ophelia reties her apron and sits down. “Sounds like a lovely time.”

  Somehow, the time begins to go by so fast. It’s nearly dark out by the time I think I should start heading back to the house.

  We’d spent the few hours talking about my family, what my home is like, about how their ma passed away too, and a lot about Northwood. We also eat a small supper of soup and sandwiches.

  Standing, I push my chair under the table. “I hate to leave when I’m having so much fun talking to you all, but I think I should start heading back to the house.”

  Oliver stands and opens the door. “Lydia.” He turns to face me. “It’s almost dark out. By the time you get back to the house, it will be dark.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine but thank you for supper.”

  “You’re walking?” Oliver asks.

  I smile, grabbing my bag off the table. “Yes. It was nice seeing you all again. I will have to come visit again soon.”

  “Ophelia. Ada. I’ll be home soon. I’m going to walk Lydia back.” He smiles.

  I shake my head. “No. Oliver, it’s all right. I think I know the way.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Goodbye, Lydia.” Ophelia smiles, pulling me into a hug.

  “Goodbye.” I hug her back and then turn to face Oliver again.

  “After you.” He smiles, motioning for me to go out.

  I sigh. It seems arguing is pointless.

  I begin walking in the direction back to the house, and Oliver falls into step beside me.

  “So, what’s the best thing about Northwood so far?” he asks, looking down at me.

  I think for a few seconds. What is the best thing?

  I mean, I’m getting used to the way of life I’ve had to adopt here with the Harris family, but that’s definitely not my favorite thing. And going to Mrs. Taylor’s bakery was a wonderful experience.

  “The lights,” I finally say.

  He raises an eyebrow. “The lights?”

  “Yes. At night when I look out the window, there are lights from people’s houses. And slowly, as I watch, they turn off.”

  “That’s never something I really notice. What do you normally see out the window back home?”

  I pause, trying to recall what I usually saw out the window. “Stars. Stars absolutely everywhere, but it was much darker outside. Especially in an area where the stars weren’t in sight.”

  Oliver tilts his head up to look at the sky. “There are stars here too.”

  “It’s not the same.” I shake my head. “The ones back home seemed to stretch on forever. There seems to be less here.”

  “That’s odd. I always thought there were a lot here.”

  I smile a little. “Some nights back home, when it was really cloudy, it’d be so dark out. You wouldn’t think of venturing out without someone.”

  “I’ve lived in Northwood my whole life. I haven’t even left the city at all.”

  “Why would you? You’re able to get everything you need here.”

  He sighs. “I’d love to leave. Just to get away from it for a while.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Really? But this has been your home your whole life.”

  “I think my family would do better in a less…populated area.”

  “Why don’t you move away then?”

  “I don’t know really.”

  “Oh,” I reply, feeling the silence drift in.

  We walk quietly side by side down the street. The sun has almost gone down all the way, and I realize now, that I’m glad Oliver made me let him walk me back. Otherwise I’d be scared out of my mind right now.

  “It’s my father,” Oliver says, his voice a little more than a whisper.

  “What’s your father?” I look up at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “I told you I don’t know why I don’t just leave Northwood. But it’s because of my father.”

  I hesitate, sensing this is something difficult for him to talk about. “Your father…he’s not around much?”

  “No.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “He spends his time at the saloon by my house. His name is Walter.”

  “Does he come home ever?”

  Oliver frowns. “Sometimes. If he needs money after not winning for a while.”

  “Winning?”

  Oliver smiles a little, before frowning again. “You really aren’t familiar with the way of life here, are you?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not.”

  “My father is a gambler. He plays games against other men in the saloon and places his money on the line. If he wins, he gets the other person’s money. If not, he loses it. Sometimes, he wins a lot of money, but he’s addicted to the thrill of it I suppose. He then spends it on other games, until he loses. Sometimes he gets in debt and the people who won go after him for the money.” Oliver pauses, swallowing hard. “Then he comes home, and I give him the money he needs.”

  “Why do you give him the money, though?”

  “Because he’s my father, Lydia. I can’t just turn on him. I’m all he has left. He used to be a well-off blacksmith here and then married my mother, Ethel. But one day, he had an accident, and he had to give up being a blacksmith. I was around twelve at the time. He just wanted to provide for my family, so he began gambling. My mother hid this from me and my sisters, though, until I found out when I was sixteen.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I remember I was so angry with him. But then a year later, my mother passed away, and my father became more addicted to it. And eventually, we found he didn’t come home as often as he used to. My sisters both just wanted to pack up and leave him, but I can’t find it in me to just abandon him.”

  It’s quiet for a minute while I try to find the words to answer. “I understand why you don’t want to leave him, Oliver. I would feel the same if it were my pa.”

  “Tell me about yours.”

  I smile. “Well, he’s a farmer. He has a few cows and some crops. He’s such a kind man too. Would do anything for someone. My pa went through a similar thing when my ma passed away. He became very distant from me and my sisters. He locked himself in his room and wouldn’t come out. My sisters and I were forced to take the crop off to save the farm from being taken away. But he came around.”

  “He sounds like a good man.”

  “I’m sure your father is too, Oliver.”

  He smiles faintly. “I know he is. But every day I’m losing the hope of him coming back to us.”

  “I was a little young when my pa went through his state of depression. I don’t remember it much, but I’m sure my older sister Darlene, could tell you she felt the same way.”

  Oliver nods, his eyes meeting mine. “Thank you for letting me tell you all that. I know you probably think my family is a mess now but—”

  “I don’t think that at all, Oliver!”

  He smiles solemnly. “Thanks. So, tell me more about your family. I’d like to know more about how families are in Nebraska.”

  “The same as here.” I chuckle and begin to tell him about my sisters, step-ma, and Bradley and Douglas.

  Chapter 18

  It was undeniably a longer walk back to the Harris home than I was expecting. And now it’s fully dark out, I feel grateful Oliver was so insistent on walking me back.

  Standing outside the house now, I turn back to face Oliver, smiling. “Thank you for walking me home. I’m actually quite glad you did because I would’ve been halfway back and gotten frightened.”

 
“Well I wasn’t about to let you get lost. You may know the city by day, but by night is a whole different story.”

  “I guess I should head in now. I don’t want Anna to be worried.” I smile at him, before taking a step toward the house.

  “Wait.”

  My eyes meet his, and I raise an eyebrow.

  “Thank you for being so understanding about my father. And I figure you should know why I panicked at the sight of that man outside the saloon. I don’t want you to think I got into some bar fight.”

  “Oliver. I know who it is.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “You do?”

  “It was your father. Wasn’t it?”

  Oliver nods, smiling a little. “How’d you know?”

  “When you told me about him, I remembered the way you looked at him. I realized you weren’t afraid of him, but rather embarrassed. Then I connected your story to that.”

  “You’re pretty good at being able to figure things like that out.”

  I shrug. “It’s called years of being quiet while others speak.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “How about I tell you that some other time?”

  He smiles. “I’d love to hear it.”

  I watch as he takes a few steps backs. “Goodbye, Lydia. Maybe we can go for lunch somewhere tomorrow.”

  “Uh…yes. How about Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Walker’s…ba-bakery,” I stutter.

  “I’ll be there.”

  I watch him as he walks back in the direction of his house. And I’m not sure if I’m imagining things or not, but he seems to walk with a little more confidence.

  The door opens, and Mr. Owens smiles, holding the door open for me to step inside. “Good evening, Miss Lydia. Did you have a good day?”

  “Indeed, Mr. Owens.”

  He nods, and I continue walking down the hall. I realize I should probably let someone know I’m back.

  “Mr. Owens. Would you be able to let Anna know I’m home? I’m rather tired and am going to retire to my room for tonight.”

  “Will do, miss.”

  Smiling, I make my way up the steps. I’ve noticed it’s gotten easier to walk up these stairs now. Before I was quite exhausted by the time I reached the top, but now it’s hardly anything.

  I make it to my room and sit down on my bed. I try to remember what happened earlier between Oliver and me, just as the door opens.

  “Good evening, miss. Are you ready to get dressed for bed?” Jane stands in the doorway.

  “Yes, Jane. Thank you.”

  She nods, stepping in the door, and closing it behind her.

  “Jane. I need your advice on something.” I smile, and her eyes meet mine.

  I’m sitting on the chair while Jane brushes out my hair.

  I tell her about Oliver and how we’re going for luncheon tomorrow.

  “Oliver sounds like a very kind man, miss. I think going to lunch tomorrow will be a good thing.”

  “But Oliver and I have only known each other for a short time. Doesn’t it seem too quick?”

  I see her smile in the mirror. “Not at all. That’s what it usually starts as. Besides, it’s only a luncheon.”

  “I suppose. It’s just, it was so unexpected.”

  “Was it? I think it was clear from the time he walked you back here, making sure you got back safely. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do but it is a rather long walk. You’re obviously worth it, miss.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Jane.”

  Her face lights up. “Oh, how could I forget? A letter came for you, miss. I’ve got it in my pocket.”

  My heartbeat quickens as she pulls the envelope out, and hands it to me before walking to the door. “Have a good evening, miss.”

  “Thank you, Jane.” I smile as she shuts the door behind her.

  I run to the bed, and flop down on it, the letter clutched in my hand.

  To Lydia.

  I recognize the writing of Hazel instantly.

  I carefully tear open the envelope and pull the folded-up paper out. Opening it, I feel my heart thudding in my chest.

  Dear Lydia,

  I read your letter and nearly fainted. You must’ve been absolutely terrified. I’m glad you made it to the Harris house after all. So is everyone else. Pa thought it was his fault because he didn’t prepare you enough. I told him he was being silly. And I can’t believe that man tried to chase you. Good thing that other man came along. What did you say his name was? Wait. Let me check again. Oliver. Yes, Oliver. Pa wants you to thank him for him. And me too.

  Servants you say? How odd is that? I suppose you’ve gotten used to it now.

  What’s the city like? Busier than what you’re used to I reckon. How many tasks have you completed so far? Are you still at the Harris’s house? Have you made any new friends? What’re the people like there? I’ve got so many questions. I just wish I could ask you. But I know I won’t get the answers for a while.

  Okay so, we’re doing well here. Although Bradley cut his hand up pretty good with the scythe. He was helping Pa sharpen it and sliced his hand. He’s got it all bandaged up now, though. It’s mostly just Freida and me in the house now. It’s kind of lonesome. I’m used to having you near me all the time. Now I have to fetch eggs in the morning alone. The boys are out doing stuff all the time.

  Darlene is doing well too. She’s still pregnant, though, I assume you probably knew that. Alice is still her sweet self. Oh! And Levi took his first steps the other day. But Robert said he hasn’t walked again since. Probably scared himself a little.

  Adeline and the twins are doing well too. Although Charity was a little sick for a while. Just sneezing and coughing. But that’s almost gone now.

  Genevieve and Joel are good too. They rode in to see us just the other day. Genevieve’s horse, Daisy is doing really well. Genevieve’s able to ride her like she does with Old Red.

  Anyway, don’t worry too much about us. We’ll manage just fine. We’re more worried about you, though.

  I miss you very much and so does the family. Write to me soon, okay?

  Love always, your sister Hazel.

  I smile. I sure miss her and the rest of my family. I flip over the paper and see some messy writing scrawled on it.

  Hello, Lydia. This is Bradley. Hazel doesn’t know I wrote on here. But I told you that you can’t get away from me bugging you. I bet you’re in love with that boy who saved you. How heroic…

  Laughing, I set the letter down on the bed. My family is seriously wonderful.

  Immediately, I sit down at the desk and write back to Hazel and my family. I tell her all about how living in the house with the Harris family has been, about my experience going to ma’s childhood home and Mrs. Taylor’s bakery. I ask her to tell everyone else all about it. Then I write a section just for Hazel to read. I write that me and Oliver are going for luncheon tomorrow. Also, that I’m nervous and confused about it.

  I ask how she’s doing as well.

  I know she won’t receive this letter for a while, but for some reason it helps me to write to my sister about my feelings. If she had come with me to Northwood, I undeniably would’ve ran and told her everything. But she’s not here. And neither are any of my family.

  The thought of it all, suddenly weighs down on me. It comes on so fast. I’ve been missing home my whole time here, but just now, at the thought of not being able to tell Hazel about Oliver, I break down. I realize just how far from home I am.

  Tears running down my cheeks, I stand and make my way to the bed. Curling myself into a ball around all my pillows, I allow myself to cry and think of all the things I miss about home. And for some reason, it feels nice.

  Chapter 19

  I wake up to the bright sunlight shining through the window. I remember I’d cried for a while last night, until I assume I eventually fell asleep.

  My letter I had written last night, still lies flat on the desk from where I’d left it.

  I feel better now, though. I realize I�
��d held it all in, trying to enjoy myself on this trip, when really, I just needed to let it out. I know Hazel has likely done the same.

  Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand up and make my way to the cupboard where my dresses are stored.

  I decide to wear the blue one. I feel it is the best for today’s events. I dress myself quickly, wanting to do it myself without Jane insisting on helping me.

  All dressed, I sit down at the desk, and finish up folding the letter I’d written and putting it into an envelope.

  I jump when there’s a knock on the door, just before it swings open.

  Jane is beaming as she shuts it behind her. She has a bag in her hand and sets it down on the table. She doesn’t comment on the fact I dressed myself this morning.

  “Why are you so happy this morning, Jane?” I chuckle, moving to sit at the table with the mirror.

  “Because today is a big day for you, miss! I must do your hair perfectly. I also asked Miss Josephine if you could borrow some of her jewelry. She immediately accepted.”

  Laughing, Jane begins to brush out my long, blonde hair.

  “Jane, this is just a luncheon. Not me getting married.”

  “Well I’m very sorry, miss, but this is exciting. Is it not?”

  “It’s no different than me going for luncheon with a friend.”

  She smiles. “It is most entirely different, miss.”

  Laughing, I look up at her. “Oh, Jane, would you please stop calling me that? Just call me, Lydia.”

  “But Sir Andrew said—”

  “I know he did. And if he’s around, then you can call me by that, but I’d be much more comfortable if we could just be friends. Okay? I don’t have that many friends here, so having someone would be really nice.”

  She nods. “All right, mis—Lydia. All right, Lydia.”

  Jane finishes brushing my hair, then lets out a long breath. “What should we do with your hair?”

  “I really like the loosely pinned back, braided look, you did for me the other day. Maybe you could do that?”

  “I think that would be lovely.”

  Eventually my hair is done up in a way I could never dream of doing on myself.

 

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