The Letter (Carter Sisters Series Book 4)

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The Letter (Carter Sisters Series Book 4) Page 12

by Morgan Dawson


  I let out a long breath. “Josephine. If you truly love this man, your family will in time accept him too. Have you talked to your ma about it?”

  “I tried. But she said I should listen to my father. She said that she wishes she could help, but my father won’t listen to her. And she’s right. I also asked Sadie about it. She told me she thinks I’m being silly, throwing my whole life away. But I’m not. I believe I can be happy even without much money.”

  “You can. Money is something that makes some people think they have power. But you can be so happy without it. I’ve seen it firsthand. My family has never had much, but we’ve always been so close and loving to each other. We’ve always managed.”

  “I just… I just wish I was born in a family with less money. You talk about your family so much. I can see how close you all are. My father is obsessed with it, though, and spends more time investing it in places, than us. We don’t spend time together as a family.”

  I sigh. “I think you should follow what your heart is telling you, Josephine.”

  She sniffs. “Thank you, Lydia. I feel like while you’ve been here, you haven’t gotten to see much of my family. I apologize for them. Mother would most definitely like to see you more than just at meal times, but she has to fulfil the duties of being married to my father. She has to go to suppers with him at estates that could be…”

  “I understand, Josephine. And besides, I’ve made friends here. And you are one of them.”

  She smiles, her eyes shifting to my weaving I’d left sitting on the bed earlier.

  “Lydia. This is absolutely incredible.” She gently traces the pattern of the blanket I’m halfway finished.

  “Thank you.”

  Somehow, Josephine and I end up visiting for an hour in my room. We talk about how our lives are different, about our likes and dislikes, and for the first time since I arrived, I understand where the wealthy people are coming from.

  Chapter 27

  It’s been a few days since I went to Grandma’s house and while I was there, she gave me the address to Aunt Beatrice’s house.

  Josephine and I have been spending our spare time together these past few days. She’s refused the marriage proposal from the man her father wanted her to marry. He’s now angry with her, but she’s hoping he’ll get over it soon.

  I also invited her to come with me for supper at Oliver’s house when I went last night, and she was pleased to be included.

  She got along really well with everyone and has insisted Ophelia and Ada come over to visit her sometime.

  Today, though, I’m on my way to Aunt Beatrice’s house. I decided I would walk this morning when the chauffeur told me it’s only a little distance from the house.

  It’s a cloudy day, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to rain. At least I hope it doesn’t.

  As I make my way in the direction of where I hope to find my aunt, I try to recall her children’s names. I know there are two of them, but the names seem to have slipped from my memory.

  There are many people out today, because while it’s cloudy, it’s also warm and humid.

  Walking along, I hear a small child crying on a nearby bench. He looks about six or so, with short blond hair. His eyes are wide, as he looks around at the people walking by. There doesn’t seem to be any adult near him. Lifting my skirt up a little, I walk over and crouch down in front of him.

  “Are you okay?”

  He sniffs, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. “I lost Mama.”

  “You lost your mama? How about I help you find her?”

  He nods.

  “My name is Lydia. What’s yours?”

  The boy sniffs again. “Peter.”

  “Okay, Peter. Let’s go look for your mama. What color hair does she have?”

  He looks up at me. “Like yours.”

  “Okay, and do you know what color dress she was wearing?”

  Peter seems to think for a few seconds. “Blue.”

  “Let’s walk and see if we can find her. Come on.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it.

  We begin to walk slowly through the crowd. I look at every person we pass, but none seem to be Peter’s mother.

  After a while of walking, I notice a woman pacing back and forth in front of a store. Her eyes have red around them, and her hair hangs in loose blonde curls. Plus, she’s dressed in a light blue dress.

  It has to be her.

  I pull Peter in the direction of his mother, pointing at her. Once he sees her, he lets go of my hand and runs over to her, his arms open wide. She begins to cry, grinning as she crouches down to embrace the boy.

  Smiling, I make my way over to her.

  “Thank you. Thank you for bringing me my boy. I thought I’d be looking forever.”

  “You’re welcome. Have a good day, ma’am.”

  I look back at Peter who is now grinning up at his mother, before turning away again and setting off in the direction I’d been going before.

  I remembered what Oliver had said when I asked him why he had stopped to help me when I first arrived. He said if it had been his sisters, he would’ve wanted someone to help them. And I figured that if I was that boy, I would’ve wanted someone to help me too, just like Oliver did.

  After a short walk, I’m standing in front of the house I think my aunt lives in. I look down at the paper with the address written on it, then up at the house, then back at the paper again.

  I keep telling myself this is it.

  Finally, with a sigh, I shove the paper back into my bag and make my way to the door. It’s a small, white house. But it has a large wooden door.

  I knock and the door opens. My aunt Beatrice stands in the doorway, her brown hair in a tight braid and a small child hanging onto her skirts.

  “Aunt Beatrice.” I smile at her.

  She looks at me for a few seconds, before tilting her head. “Lydia? Or is it Hazel?”

  “Lydia. Hazel’s in Nebraska still.”

  Beatrice opens the door wider. “Come on in, dear. What’re you doing here?”

  The child is still peering at me from behind her mother.

  “Well, I’d love to tell you.”

  And so, I begin to explain why I’m here. This is a story I’m going to be able to recite the same every time I tell someone, for the amount of times I’ve had to explain it recently.

  * * *

  We’re now walking down the street. I told Beatrice all about what I’m doing here and when I mentioned Wentworth Hill, she began to cry. We’re now on our way there. Beatrice is carrying the small boy in her arms, who I now know is called Johnny. She told me her daughter had gone to get some supplies with her father.

  It’s not very busy in this end of town. Only a few people pass us.

  After a while of walking, I see a small grassy hill. It’s behind a bunch of buildings, and it’s not very large. Just a round, grass covered hill.

  She sets Johnny down and he giggles, running up the hill.

  “This is Wentworth Hill, Lydia.”

  “It’s…smaller than I imagined.”

  Aunt Beatrice chuckles. “Your ma and I thought it was the largest hill when we were young. We used to spend an hour after school playing here. Sometimes, we’d roll down it and come back home covered in dust and grass.”

  I take a few steps up onto the hill. My ma played here. I, for some reason, can’t seem to imagine it.

  We spend about ten minutes here with Johnny running up and down the hill. I suppose to a young child, this is the most fascinating thing.

  Aunt Beatrice sighs, looking down at her feet. “I miss your mother very much, Lydia. She was my closest friend.”

  I think of how close I am with Hazel and all my sisters. If something were to happen to one of them… Shuddering, I don’t let myself continue the thought.

  I give Aunt Beatrice a quick hug, and we then begin walking back to the house. Johnny refuses to be carried on the way back, though, so we walk very slowly.
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  It takes a long time to get back, but eventually we arrive.

  “Would you like to stay and visit?”

  I nod. “I would love to.”

  We go inside, and I sit down at a small, wooden table. It’s a one room house. The kitchen is on the far side of the room with a small fireplace by the door. It’s cozy and warm, just like my house back home.

  And it smells like fresh baking of some kind.

  My aunt sets a plate of cookies on the table in front of me.

  “Me want,” Johnny whines, trying to reach the plate.

  “Manners, Johnny,” she warns.

  He smiles. “Please?”

  Laughing, she hands the boy a cookie, and he runs off giggling.

  “So how are your sisters doing?”

  “They’re good. Darlene, Adeline, and Genevieve are married now. Darlene and Adeline have children too.”

  Aunt Beatrice gives a small smile, her eyes softening. “Tell me about them.”

  And so I do. Telling her about every last one of my sisters and their children. We then talk about her family, the memories she has with my ma and about how she wants to come out next Christmas to stay.

  “Where are you staying while you’re here?”

  “One of my ma’s friends, Anna Harris.”

  She nods. “Oh yes. I know her. Your ma and Anna did everything together when they were about thirteen. I wonder why she didn’t ask me to let you stay here, though.”

  I smile, nodding. “I wondered many things about why my ma did things the way she did for this journey. But I think she had her reasons.”

  “I suppose we’ll never know.”

  I let out a long breath, folding my hands in my lap. “I suppose we won’t.”

  After a long visit with my aunt, and also watching Johnny run around the house in circles, I decide I should head back home.

  I notice the sky turning gray, and I don’t want to be caught in the rain.

  I hug her. “Goodbye. It was nice seeing you again and thanks for showing me the hill.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope you’ll come visit again soon.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  I open the door and wave, before shutting it behind me.

  Looking up at the sky, I notice it’s now a dark gray color. I silently pray it doesn’t start raining while I’m walking back home.

  Making my way down the street, I walk in a fast pace. It’s warm out still, and humid. I have a feeling we’re going to get a good storm.

  I should make it back before it rains, though.

  After walking for a few minutes, I realize I was wrong. I’m still quite a ways from the house when it begins to rain. It’s light at first. Just a few raindrops. Then it begins to pour. It’s a cold rain too. A loud crack of thunder vibrates my ears.

  It’s kind of nice, though. Even if I’m getting soaked through with water.

  No one else is out here now, and I’ve got the whole street to myself.

  I step around a puddle and keep walking. This isn’t so bad.

  Chapter 28

  I forgot how nice the rain is as it runs down my face. My sisters and I used to run outside as soon as it began to rain when we were young. We always got a scolding from Ma. She told us we were going to get sick, but we never listened.

  Soon, though, I’m making my way up the steps of the house. As much as I love the rain, I know I should get inside.

  I’ve only just begun feeling better, so I don’t want to get sick again.

  I’m greeted at the door by Mr. Owens, his eyes widening at the sight of me. “Miss Lydia. Get inside. You’re soaking wet, you poor girl. I’ll fetch Jane.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Owens. Can you get her to come to my room please?”

  “Of course, miss.”

  I rush up the steps and into my room, not wanting to drip too much onto the floor.

  Jane comes in and as soon as she sees me, she sighs. “Lydia. What were you doing out in the rain like that?”

  “I’m sorry. I had to walk back.”

  She laughs a little. “You make me laugh, Lydia.”

  “It’s only water.”

  Still laughing, she helps me get out of my wet, cold dress.

  * * *

  Dressed in a much dryer outfit, I’m now sitting by the window looking out at the rain. It’s a lovely sound, and I love the way the raindrops race down the window.

  Jane sets a cup of steaming hot tea down on the table beside me.

  “Anything else, Lydia?”

  “No. I’m all right. Thank you, Jane.”

  She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

  I carefully take the cup in my hand, feeling the warmth of it spread through my fingers.

  I think of Genevieve, knowing she would likely be reading right now. She always liked to read inside when it was raining.

  And I’m enjoying the book I found in the Harris’s library. Perhaps I shall spend the rest of the afternoon listening to the rain running down the window while reading a good book.

  I take a sip of the tea, smiling as I reach for the book lying on the bed and open it, quickly getting lost in the pages.

  I read for a few hours in peace, sipping tea, and relaxing before looking up at the clock. It’s almost time for supper.

  I make my way downstairs to the dining room. Sir Andrew is sitting at the end of the table as always.

  Josephine has a chair next to him, and I take a seat, smiling at her.

  “Good evening, Lydia.”

  “Good evening.”

  Once we’ve dished out our food, Anna looks across the table, her eyes meeting mine. “How was your day, Lydia?”

  I set my fork down. “It was lovely. I got to see my aunt and her son for the first time in ages.”

  “Aunt Beatrice. Right?” She tilts her head slightly.

  “Yes.”

  We eat quietly for a while.

  “Mother, guess what I did at school today?” Russell grins, taking a bite of his food.

  “What?”

  “I was playing with Eddie at recess, and we found a hole dug in the ground. We think it might’ve been a bear’s den.”

  Sir Andrew sighs. “Russell, I doubt a hole by your school would belong to a bear.”

  “But it might’ve—”

  “No. It would have to be very large for a bear. And they wouldn’t be near people.”

  Russell looks at Sadie and whispers, “Why’s father so grumpy tonight?”

  Sir Andrew slams his fist on the table, and I jump, dropping my fork on the ground.

  Josephine flinches.

  “I’m only telling the truth, Russell. Now go to your room for the night,” Sir Andrew shouts, glaring at Russell.

  The poor boy begins to cry as he bolts from his chair and runs out the door.

  “Andrew.” Anna sighs. “Couldn’t you have just let him have fun for once?”

  Sir Andrew groans, pushing his chair back from the table. “I’m going to bed. Thank you for this pleasant meal, everyone.”

  Once he’s gone, we all sit quietly. I’m not too sure what to do. After a while I stand and push my chair back.

  “I’m going to go to bed now. I’ll see you all for breakfast.” I smile, making my way out of the dining room.

  That had been a rather uncomfortable meal.

  Climbing the steps, I hear footsteps following me. Turning around, I see Josephine.

  She smiles a little. “I’m sorry about my father. He gets like this sometimes. I think he’s in a foul mood because I told everyone about the baker I’ve been seeing.”

  “Oh, it’s all right.” I continue walking up the steps, Josephine beside me.

  “It’s just how he is I guess.”

  “Everyone’s allowed bad days. It really doesn’t bother me. You should see my step-brother’s when they get mad.”

  At the top of the stairs, Josephine turns to where her room is. “Goodnight, Lydia.”

  “You too, Josephine.”


  I shut the door of my room behind me. I’m proud of Josephine for not giving in to her father’s ideas for her life. It was very brave of her.

  Jane’s folding my clothes and putting them in the drawer.

  “Oh, sorry, Lydia. I didn’t think you’d be up so soon.”

  “I’m rather tired, Jane. I couldn’t wait to rest.”

  She nods, finding my nightgown. “Of course.”

  Once I’m ready for bed, I climb under the covers, and Jane leaves. What a day today was. I enjoyed seeing my aunt again, but seeing her made me miss my sisters even more, and worry even more about them.

  I hope they’re all right. I just wish they were all here with me. I also wish I could talk to Hazel in person, about Oliver. With these thoughts of home, I begin to fall into a land of darkness.

  Chapter 29

  I’ve spent the last few days teaching Josephine how to weave. She’s been working really hard at it and can now do a basic pattern.

  It’s been rather rainy and miserable but today, the clouds have seemed to clear.

  I’ve decided today I will walk to Oliver’s. I haven’t seen them for days now, and I miss their company.

  After seeing only gray clouds lately, it’s refreshing to see some blue sky.

  There are people out everywhere, people walking past me, others sitting on benches talking. It’s clear we’ve all been pretty cooped up inside these last few days.

  I follow the same route I’ve taken every time I’ve walked to his house or back to mine. When I go past the saloon, I think of how Oliver, Ophelia, and Ada are so affected by their father spending his time there. I wish I knew how to help them, but I think their father is trapped in gambling now.

  Arriving at their house, I knock on the door.

  It opens after a few seconds, and Ophelia greets me with a warm smile.

  “Lydia! It’s nice to see you. Come in.”

  I make my way inside and sit down on the chair next to Ada.

  “I figured since it’s finally quit raining, I would come visit you.” I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

 

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