I looked away, uncomfortable to discuss money matters with him.
“Do you have a particular preference?”
“I hadn’t realized the price would change depending on the wood. How interesting carpentry must be! And how complicated.” I found myself rambling, running the risk of babbling, and I looked to Sav to save me. However, she would not look up even though she must have felt the weight of my stare.
“Yes, miss, all in all, it is a fascinating profession,” he said.
I was unable to tell if he mocked me or genuinely agreed.
“Though I’m a cabinetmaker, not a carpenter.”
I squinted at him, unsure of the difference.
“What do you think of the chairs you are sitting on? I have altered a traditional design, and I am not sure if they will be comfortable to all. I may like them simply because I made them,” he admitted.
“I find them comfortable, though they seem a little tall.”
“Tall? In what sense?”
I blushed. “My feet barely touch the floor.”
He looked and noted for the first time that my toes were touching, but the rest of my foot dangled in midair. “Hmm…I can see that would be a problem.” He seemed to become lost in thought and then addressed Savannah.
“And for you, Miss Russell, what do you think?”
“I agree with Clarissa. I’d like a chair where my feet touch the ground. However, I am sure Lucas, Patrick or Colin would love these chairs,” she replied.
He looked from her to me, apparently thinking over those names, although I thought they should all be familiar to him.
“Lucas is my cousin, Lucas Russell. If you remember, you met him a few days ago,” I said.
A grim expression flitted across his face then vanished.
“Patrick and Colin are my brothers,” I explained. “They are very tall, though not quite as tall as you.” At that last remark, I looked away.
Savannah nearly choked into her tea and had the presence of mind to act like she was coughing.
Gabriel merely smiled and nodded. “Yes, well, that makes sense now. I should have them out to the workshop to see what they think. I believe Colin and Richard are good friends,” he said. He smiled and sipped his sweetened tea.
I nodded my agreement.
“If you don’t mind me asking, miss, if your main concern was the type of wood I would be using, maybe as we finish our tea you could read more from your book?” he asked with a hint of longing in his voice.
“Oh, I would have liked that, but I didn’t think to bring it with me,” I apologized. Savannah shook her head at me and rolled her eyes in exasperation, as though I were a complete idiot. After a few more moments, Savannah and I stood to take our leave.
“I thank you for your visit here today, Miss Russell,” Gabriel said with a slight nod in Sav’s direction. “Miss,” he murmured in a husky voice, nodding more fully at me with warm eyes. “I will see you again at the schoolhouse.”
I said something that hopefully sounded like an agreement and then turned to leave. Thankfully Savannah gripped my arm, or I would have spun myself to a sitting position on the floor.
Savannah propelled me into motion, tugging me down the stairs. We clattered our way down the increasingly dark hallway until we reached the ground floor and the street. We stepped onto the sidewalk, dodging the bustling peddlers. I tripped on the uneven stones, smiling my thanks as a fish peddler prevented me from falling. Turning toward Savannah, I gripped her arm once more, and we began to stroll away from the workshop. We looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Wow, that’s Mr. Carpenter up close,” Savannah breathed. She acted as if she were fanning herself, then looked around the street, remembering we were in public. “No scenes, Rissa. Let’s walk and talk quietly.” She gripped my arm and again propelled me faster into motion. It never ceased to surprise me how such a small woman could be so strong.
“Yes,” I agreed, “that’s him. What do you think?”
“I think he is the handsomest man I have ever seen. Virile is the word that comes to mind.” She sighed, giving me a teasing smile. “Just be thankful I’ve already agreed to marry Jonas, or I might try to entice him away from you.”
“Sav, he’s not interested in me,” I protested.
“Hmm…if you say so. Now I understand why Lucas disliked him so much,” Savannah said.
I watched with confusion, waiting for her to say more.
“Not only is he handsome, but he looks at you…” She paused, in a similar fashion as Lucas had, but, rather than displeased, she seemed pleased.
“Looks at me how?” I demanded.
Savannah studied me for a moment, surprise evident in her expression. “Are you telling me that you don’t see it? The way he studies you?” Savannah demanded, speaking to me as if she thought I were a simpleton.
I shrugged my shoulders, unsure.
“Well, start paying attention, Rissa,” Savannah encouraged with a broad smile. “This could be a grand adventure.”
CHAPTER 9
I SAT VISITING WITH FLORENCE after school in her room. It was a cold, blustery day, and I did not relish going outside. Florence had the gaslights on due to the weak light coming in from the window. The chalkboard had been erased, prepared for another day of teaching, and Florence sat behind her desk with a stack of papers in front of her. I sat in the only other adult-sized chair in the room, an uncomfortable straight-backed chair that I had moved toward Florence’s desk.
“Florence,” I asked, “what happened to your family?”
“They all died when I was young,” she replied.
I watched her, sympathy and concern flooding me.
As I remained silent, she continued to speak, “Baby Sam got sick first and then it spread to everyone else. We didn’t have money for a doctor, and there we were, all crammed into our one-room tenement, in pools of…” She broke off, embarrassed, not finishing the sentence. “Mama ’n’ Papa never thought about taking us to the relief station. Maybe by the time they did, we were too sick,” she whispered.
I gripped her hand, unsure of any other way to show my sadness at her story.
“They all died, left me alone,” she whispered. “Left me all alone.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“When the neighbors finally came in, they found only me. They took me to the relief station, got me well,” she said, wiping away a tear. “Then I went to an orphanage.” She stopped, shaking her head, as though she couldn’t say any more.
“Oh, Florence. I am sorry.” I grimaced, feeling the inadequacy of my words.
“There are hundreds just like me, Clarissa. Except I made something of myself, got a good job,” she said with pride.
“Why did you never marry?” I asked, curious about her relationship with the McLeod brothers.
She watched me warily before asking, “Why didn’t you?”
I looked at her in confusion, then in dawning understanding. I nodded with a rueful smile. “Come, let’s go home. Why don’t you join us for tea?”
Her eyes flared in concern, looking at her stained dress. “Oh, thank you, Clarissa, but not today. Maybe some other time. I wouldn’t want to shock that stepmother of yours too much.”
I stood to gather my things. “I understand. But we will go for tea one of these days,” I said as I donned my jacket and hat.
***
I RETURNED HOME after an uneventful walk to find Colin pacing our family parlor. He skirted the ottomans, chairs and settees, making an agitated pattern across the floor. The rose-colored wallpaper appeared darker than usual on this dreary day with little sunlight streaming in the large front windows. A small fire crackled in the marble-topped fireplace to the left of the door.
“Why are you here, Colin?” I asked rushing toward him. “You are never home midday. Is it Da? The smithy?” Colin studied me for a moment as my anxiety mounted.
I looked entreatingly at Colin, and he met my gaze with mou
rnful eyes. “Rissa, sit.”
I dutifully sat on the pale gold settee.
He took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself as he met my eyes again. “Rissa, Cameron is back.”
I frowned at him, unsure why he acted like this was news. “You warned me that you thought he was back a few weeks ago. But he wouldn’t come back,” I scoffed. “And if he has, it has nothing to do with me.”
“He’s back. I saw him. He was asking about you today at the smithy.”
“Why would he come back? Why would he be interested in me?” I sat dazed, unsure where to look. My mind couldn’t make sense of it. I had known, deep inside, when I had seen a glimmer of his profile a few weeks ago, that he had returned. Yet, I didn’t want to believe it possible.
“Rissa, don’t be childish. He’s clearly still interested in you,” Colin chided. “There will be a lot of talk.”
“When have you ever cared about what people said, Colin? And when was the last time you were left at the altar? Don’t you dare tell me you know what that feels like, because you have no idea,” I snapped at him, hastily wiping away a tear, hoping that I could keep the rest of them locked inside.
“I care what people say, Rissa, when they are maligning my baby sister. I care when the ba…man who hurt her comes back into town, as though he’s done nothing wrong,” Colin nearly shouted, seething with anger.
Colin took a moment to collect himself. “There’s every chance you’ll meet him on the street, Rissa. We can’t protect you completely from him. He’s proven he’s no gentleman, and I am sure he’ll not wait for you to acknowledge him before speaking with you. None of us can be away from work as much as would be needed to always escort you.”
“I don’t want to always have an escort,” I cried. “I want my freedom.”
“Rissa, be realistic,” Colin said. “You must know that’s not possible now.”
I sat, mutely staring at him, a kaleidoscope of memories rushing through me. Once again I found myself waiting, waiting on Cameron, while trying not to think too much about the past. I silently squeezed Colin’s hand, unable to speak, overcome by emotions.
“I sent for Aunt Matilda and Savannah. I thought you might want their support.”
I blinked a dazed agreement.
Colin nodded and gently patted me on my shoulder. Soon he left to return to the smithy.
There was a commotion at the front hall door as Aunt Matilda and Savannah arrived. Aunt Matilda demanded tea and cakes be delivered immediately to the parlor. Savannah exuded calm although she was unable to hide the concern in her light blue eyes. She sat next to me on the settee, with Aunt Matilda across from us in a comfortable lady’s chair. I felt cocooned by their love and support.
I leaned into Savannah and finally began to cry. I hadn’t cried in my bedroom waiting in vain for him to show or in the days after the wedding, while waiting for a reason for his disappearance. I hadn’t cried through all of the pitying looks and the snide, not-so-subtle write-up in the newspaper or my grandparents’ scorn. I realized now how much I had held in and how much I needed to let it go. I sobbed quietly into Savannah’s shoulder, and she simply held me, saying nothing.
I finally stopped weeping and let go of Savannah. She smoothed away the hair from my forehead with a gentle touch. “All better, Rissa?”
I gave a start of laughter, as I knew I was far from “all better.” I looked at her, mumbling, “I think crying should be recommended. I feel much better now.”
“Well, maybe in the privacies of our own homes, but we wouldn’t want men to see us this way, would we? Not at all becoming,” she said with a small smile.
Aunt Matilda began to fix cups of tea. “Have some tea, Clarissa. It will calm you.” She overlooked my red puffy eyes and pink nose. “Tomorrow will be a trying day, dear, as you will be worrying about seeing him, though I doubt he will seek you out so quickly. He seems more subtle and cunning than that,” Aunt Matilda mused.
“I wouldn’t call going to the smithy cunning nor subtle, Mother,” Savannah retorted.
“True, but now that he has us all up in arms, he can see how we react and then decide what to do. I think the best thing for you, Clarissa, with Cameron roaming the streets again, would be to have no set schedule, so he would not know where to find you at any given time.”
I looked at her blankly. “Are you saying…?”
“Yes, for now, give up the teaching. It’s almost end of term anyway,” Aunt Matilda said.
“Aunt, I can’t stop teaching now. It’s the most important time for many of the students!” I looked toward Savannah but realized I would get no support from her. My heart raced as one thought was paramount in my mind. If I am not at school, I won’t see Gabriel.
“Clarissa, the family has indulged this whim of yours to teach for long enough. You have no need to teach. You should be spending your time at home, refining your knowledge on how to run a proper house.” Aunt Matilda spoke with a note of chastisement in her voice, as though the decision had already been made.
“Aunt Matilda, I want to teach. I like teaching. I like being outside of the house,” I protested.
“Clarissa, you do not realize how badly it reflects on the family, you leaving the house each day for employment. It makes people wonder if it is a necessity. I shouldn’t wonder that your father’s customers worry that he is in financial hardship, with his daughter working.” She emphasized working as though it were a bad word.
“You work with Uncle Martin,” I replied.
“Only out of necessity,” she retorted, her eyes flashing at me as though in anger at the reminder. She lifted up her teacup to forestall any more conversation. I noted Savannah watching the conversation avidly.
“Aunt…”
“Clarissa, we yielded to your desire to teach as it appeared the only way to have you emerge from the sadness after dear Agnes’s death. It should have ended two years ago. However, you have been pampered long enough. Think of the effect it may be having on Savannah and Mr. Montgomery. The last thing we would want would be for Mr. Montgomery to lose esteem for the family.”
I spoke in a determined, confident voice. “Aunt Matilda, I am truly sorry if my teaching reflects poorly on the family. However, I am sure there are many other things that I have done that have tarnished the reputation of the family much worse than my helping to improve the lives of young children.”
“Clarissa, I will be discussing this with your father. I believe I have the agreement of Mrs. Sullivan?” Aunt Matilda inquired, raising her eyebrows, looking toward the door, where Mrs. Smythe now hovered.
“Of course, dear Mrs. Russell,” Mrs. Smythe simpered. “You have my full support. I have despaired for a long time over Clarissa’s lack of social graces.”
I watched as Mrs. Smythe looked ready to start on her favorite topic and knew I needed to escape.
“I am sorry. It has been a trying afternoon,” I said. “I have a headache. If you will all excuse me?” I rose and left the room, heading upstairs to the relative tranquility of my bedroom.
CHAPTER 10
FOR DAYS I WAITED anxiously for Cameron to approach me. Da had continued to support my teaching, and there had been very little discussion about me leaving before term ended. I was able to continue with my daily routine, and I enjoyed the sense of normalcy. One day nearly two weeks later, I heard heavy footsteps approaching my school door. My stomach tightened.
At the gentle knock, I turned to see Gabriel at the doorway. “Hello, Mr. McLeod,” I said, unable to hide the flash of joy in my eyes at seeing him. I bit my lip, worried for an instant that I was alone with him, unchaperoned in my schoolroom, but soon focused on Gabriel and his visit rather than propriety.
“Miss Sullivan,” he said in a formal tone. “I am sorry for the delay in coming by the school.” He looked down, running the edge of his hat through his fingers as though nervous. “I…” He broke off, looking up to meet my eyes.
I met his gaze, my interest heightened
by his hesitation. I raised my eyebrows in encouragement, signaling him to continue.
“I don’t have much news about the bookcase. Or the sideboard,” he said. “But I wanted you to know I’m still working on them.”
“Excellent,” I said with a small smile, feeling comforted by his presence.
“If it would not be improper, miss,” he said, meeting my gaze, “do you think you could return to my workshop some day?”
I inhaled shortly, taken by surprise.
“It’s just that I have a few ideas but wanted, needed to discuss them there.”
I continued to watch him silently. He ran his hand through his hair. “I would like your opinion on a few design ideas and wood choices, Miss Sullivan.”
I remained silent as though incapable of speaking.
“The wood’s too bulky to cart around the streets.”
I blushed, glancing down. “Of course, the sideboard. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
He nodded once, smiling, “That would be fine, miss.” He paused, studying me. “How is the school year progressing, miss?”
I nodded at him. “Well enough. Though the students are becoming anxious to be out of school. As am I,” I murmured, flushing softly at my escaped comment.
His lips quirked a quick smile, and I saw a small dimple in his right cheek. “At least you’re an honest teacher,” he said. He perused the room, taking in the chalkboard and the maps on the wall. “Do you teach geography, miss?”
“I teach a little of everything. Well, except homemaking arts. That would be a true disaster,” I admitted.
He wandered toward the map of the United States pinned on the wall. “Do you ever dream of traveling?” he asked in a wistful voice. At my quick shake of my head in denial, he said, “I do. I dream of California. Seeing the San Francisco Bay. I think it must truly be a land of opportunity there.” He continued to study the map. “Or anywhere out West. It seems a magical, wild place. Full of possibilities.”
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