The day of the festival arrived. Fortunately, Johanna's mother and sister had already gone to the church building to gather the garlands for the race. Johanna tells them she will stay behind and that she would meet them there later. She waits by the door watching the carriage disappear over the swell in the hill. She did not mind to walk into town when she was ready. The distance was not more than a quarter of a mile.
They had taken the quarter horses, so Pepper stood faithfully in her stable when Johanna ran out to her. As quick as she could, she led the horse out, saddling with the best saddle. Luckily not many in town had seen this horse, as she was able to keep her almost as a pet since she was a pet.
"Don't worry, Pepper," Johanna whispered. "They'll never even see us coming."
Next came the tricky part of her plan. She went back inside after tying Pepper to the post outside. The silence of the house deafened her after she stepped back in. Perhaps the tinge of guilt she felt made everything seem that much more present. Even the silence. Slowly she walked down the hallway to her mother's bedroom. What she needed would be there. As her footsteps cross the threshold into the bedroom, she feels as if she is trespassing into some sacred chapel. She needed to move quickly before she lost her nerve. The ornate blue painted wardrobe was one of the few pieces of furniture her mother had insisted they bring from the east when they arrived in Neiman's Hollow.
Johanna slowly opened the bedroom door.
Her father's clothes still hung there, as if waiting for him to arrive and put his coat on for the day. Johanna flicked through, finding the shirt coat and collar that her father had worn for Sunday services.
"This is perfect," she whispers out loud in an effort to break the silence. The second part of her plan involved finding his old papers, filed away somewhere in the large rolltop desk on the other side of the bedroom.
At last, she is ready. She tucks the entry form, now completely filled out, and runs outside, pulling Pepper by the lead down the road into town toward the festival.
Reese arrived, seeing dozens of people milling around the track on the side of town where the festival was to take place. Several of the ladies from church buzzed around tucking the flower garlands to the edge of the fencing alongside the racetrack. He was saddened that he could not convince Johanna to accompany him, but his status as an eligible bachelor did not seem to go unnoticed. He had volunteered to announce the race, and he sought out the booth.
"There you are, my boy!" Mr. Andrews called out to him, directing him toward the tall booth overlooking the racetracks. "Here you are. You are sure to keep everyone's attention. Just use the large speaking device up on the counter there. Your voice will ring out over the crowd." Mr. Andrews handed him a piece of paper with a list of the names of those racing.
"Here are the names of those racing. It is not set to start for another half an hour, so feel free to enjoy the festival until then."
"Thank you, Mr. Andrews."
He glanced down the list of names, ticking off in his mind as he recognized nearly all of them from the church. The very last name struck him a bit, John Holmes, No. 7. He does not recall the name but let’s the matter go. He is new to Neiman's Hollow and has probably not yet met everyone. Almost.
"Where is your darling Caleb today?" The voice interrupts his thoughts, and he turns to see Johanna's mother approach with Sara following close behind.
"How do you do? I have him with the other children with the nursery station back at the church."
"Of course, of course. I assume you will be seeing ... "
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," Mr. Andrews comes rushing up to him. "The horses are starting to line up. Do you mind to take your place in the tower?"
"Not at all. Please forgive me, Mrs. Holmes." He turns away from Johanna's mother and makes his way to the booth.
From the vantage point, he sees out over the length of the track, half a mile in a full oval. The weather is beautiful for the day’s events: sunny and just a hint of a breeze, enough to keep everyone comfortable. Down at the edge of the track, he sees the crowd begin to gather, eager eyes peering over to catch a glimpse of the horses.
The riders all tended to their charges, patting noses and tightening straps at the last minute. He sees a young boy at the edge of the crowd away from everyone, his cap pulled down tight covering his face. The familiarity strikes him instantly, but he knows he has not made acquaintance with a young man of such stature.
He pushes the thought aside as the horses line up at the starting line.
Mr. Andrews steps forward to welcome the crowd with his arms outstretched, holding in one hand his best silk hat.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
He is greeted by polite applause.
"Welcome to the second annual match races for the Neiman's Hollow spring festival! This year I am proud to announce the race will be called by none other than the newest citizen of Neiman's Hollow, Mr. Reese Louden!" He gestures to the tower. Reese waves to the crowd, retuning the enthusiasm.
The horses took their place. The familiar young man put on the banner that contained the number assigned for the race. No. 7. So this was John Holmes, but where did he come from? Who was he? It was time for the race to begin. Mr. Andrews lifted his arm, to signal the riders.
"On your marks!"
Hooves pawed at the ground.
"Get set!"
Riders leaned in, narrowing their eyes.
"Go!"
Reese lifted the speaker trumpet to his lips. "And No. 5 surges to the front followed by No. 8. Coming up in the rear in the first quarter is No. 4!"
He continued to call out the details of the race. The mysterious No. 7 kept to the middle of the group. The horses came around the first curve and along the backstretch.
"No. 5 still holding the lead!" His voice echoed out over the crowd. "Followed closely by No. 4! Three is making a run for a place in the top three!"
Without much warning, the No. 7 horse shot forward, surging up alongside the leader like a bullet.
"Here comes No. 7!" He shouted, his excitement overflowing into his voice. "And they are coming around the back bend into the straight away! Five and seven are at battle, ladies and gentlemen!"
The honey-golden horse bearing the slight figure pulled forward into the lead. Reese watched as the rider leaned in, as if willing the horse to move faster. Yards before the finish line, he could see the hat, which by some miracle had stayed in place up to this point, began to flutter. The wind caught it, and it flew off rolling away in the middle of the infield. The rider's hair, much to his surprise, flies out in long chestnut strands, giving away the identity of the rider.
He knows that hair.
And he knows that face.
The mystery rider was none other than Johanna Holmes! His Johanna.
"Ladies and gentlemen, talk about a dark horse! The winner is horse No. 7! And if my eyes do not deceive me, the rider is none other than our very own Johanna Holmes!"
The crowd surged to their feet. The front row pressed up against the railing, mouths open, eyes wide. Johanna turned toward them as her horse crossed the finish line. She pulled the horse to a trot, standing up in the stirrups. Reese could not believe he did not see it right away. The men's clothes had hidden her identity enough for her to get into the race. The crowd was overcome, chattering and cheering. Some of the younger women were waving their kerchiefs and fans with adulation. In the corner next to the stands, Reese saw Mr. Andrews poring over the rules with Pastor Harkins, their faces pinched in confusion.
Reese can stand it no longer.
He lays down the speaker and climbs out of the booth, making his way through the crowd to the finish line. She is still on the horse when he catches up to her.
"Johanna!" he calls, catching the bridle and leading her away from the approaching crowd.
"Reese!" She calls his name over the crowd, speaking through the huge smile on her face.
Johanna climbs down from the horse into Reese's awaiting
arms.
"I think," she says in a breathless voice, "I think I have the answer to your question."
"Do you?"
"I think perhaps it might be all right for you to call on me sometime."
He laughed and swept her up in his arms, lifting her feet off the ground and spinning her around. "Oh, Johanna! My Johanna! I never thought you would say so."
She felt her feet touch the ground at last, and he tilted her chin between his thumb and forefinger. With no measure of the crowd around them, he leans forward and kisses her gently on the lips.
"And I thought winning the race was the best thing that would happen to me today," she says when he breaks away.
He laughs and kisses her again, completely ignoring the press of the crowd. As far as either of them cared, they were the only two people that mattered.
The End
Return to the TOC for Bonus Content
Anne and the Baby
Chapter One
Life was simple before—before things got bad. Irina lived on a small farm in rural Kentucky. She and her family weren’t rich, but they always did well for themselves. God graced them with a fruitful farm and a good family.
For the past three generations, the Moore family had lived in Pikeville, ever since they had arrived in America from Europe. It was their home and a place they’d come to love. The rolling hills and tall trees were just a few of the things that attracted the Moore family to the beautiful state of Kentucky. What kept them there was the sense of community that seemed to pervade every aspect of society. Big cities held no appeal to the close-knit family. Pikeville was the type of place where everyone knew everyone, and Sunday morning church services were something to look forward to.
Anne sighed as she threaded her fingers through her hair, twisting her golden locks into a messy braid. She glanced outside and softly as she watched tiny white snowflakes fall from the sky. She couldn’t remember the last time it snowed like this. They seemed to get a few small flurries every year but nothing like this.
She pushed herself up from her bed and slipped into her coat before knocking on her sister’s door.
“Ashley, wake up or we’ll be late for church,” she called through the door.
The younger girl poked her head out and looked up at Anne, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Just beyond Ashley’s sleepy figure she could see that Beth was still asleep in the bed her youngest sisters shared. “It’s so cold, Anne. And Ma and Pa are not back yet.”
There was a hint of worry in the girl’s voice, but Anne just leaned down and kissed her forehead. “They’ll be home today, but we need to go to church and pray for their safe arrival.”
Ma and Pa left nearly a week ago to travel to the city in order to get to a doctor. Pa had fallen ill, and the local physician couldn’t help him, though he seemed positive that a doctor in a hospital might be able to cure his ails. The elderly physician seemed confident in her father’s recovery. Anne wasn’t going to question it.
After her sisters were dressed, Anne led them up the small hill to the church. The preacher welcomed them with a smile, and everything seemed right in the world. Of course, Anne was worried, but she knew that she needed to have faith and to believe in God’s plan. He would guide them through this trying time. It was the attitude she was raised to have, and she wasn’t going to start questioning it now.
The sermon was as beautiful and moving, as always, and she thanked the preacher for giving them strength and comfort. They certainly needed it. The sisters stuck around after church and chatted with their neighbors about the upcoming harvest and how badly they wanted for spring. They were true Southerners and didn’t take kindly to the cold weather and snow. They said their goodbyes and headed back down the hill.
Anne’s heart skipped a beat when they reached the bottom: Her parent’s horses were back. They were neighing softly, steam rising from their nostrils. Apparently, they didn’t like the cold, either.
Anne ran into the house, her face bright with excitement, and her sisters followed behind. “Ma! Pa!” she cried out. But Anne was surprised to find only her mother sitting beside the cold fireplace, her eyes dead and lost. She was alone, and anger and sadness hung in the air. Anne looked around, blinking quickly. Where was Pa? As she inched closer to her mother, she could see tears sliding down her face. “Ma, where is Pa?” she asked, her voice quivering ever so slightly.
Anne’s mother didn’t look up to meet Anne’s gaze. She just stared into the fireplace. “The angels took him, Anne.”
“But the doctor said … ”
“I know what the doctor said!” she snapped, the tears flowing faster now.
Anne just stared at her mother’s shoulders heave with each sob. She wanted to comfort her mother, but she didn’t know where to begin. She could hear weaker sobs behind her. Anne was fighting tears herself, but she knew she needed to be strong. Pa would have wanted that.
She knelt beside her mother and wrapped her arms around her. The tears were hot against Anne’s skin, but she didn’t pull away. She wanted to tell her mother that it would be OK and that they were going to make it, but Anne wasn’t so sure. Pa was the backbone of their family. Without him, she wasn’t sure what would become of them.
Anne wasn’t just worried about their well-being, either. Her heart was broken. She and her Pa had a special bond. Her life would be empty without him, and she wasn’t sure how to cope with the loss. She wanted to cry, but she knew that Pa was looking down on them and that she would be the one expected to take the reins. She wasn’t going to let him down. “It’ll be all right, Ma. It’s going to be all right.”
Her mother let out another sob and clung desperately to her daughter. Anne closed her eyes and did the only thing she could think to do: She prayed.
Chapter Two
Anne tried to stay hopeful and strong, but it didn’t last long. Pa’s funeral was a few days after his body was delivered from the hospital. They said their final goodbyes and then buried him behind their beloved church. Watching Pa be lowered into the ground was the hardest thing Anne ever had to do. She cried more that day than any other in her life.
The family mourned the passing of Pa all winter long. The community offered the family food and as much comfort as they could, but the town eventually moved on, and the Moores were expected to as well. It was a brutal truth, but life didn’t stop moving just because someone died.
Anne tried desperately to take over her father’s role in the family. Ma was too shattered to take control. When spring came, Anne took to the fields and tended to the animals and crops as best she could. She’d spent time on the farm with her father, though her mother rarely allowed her to spend too much time outside. It wasn’t ladylike to play around in the field with the pigs and corn.
Anne didn’t remember everything Pa taught her, but what she remembered she put to use. Anne did her best to nurture the crops and keep the animals fat, but nothing seemed to be working. She didn’t have enough skill or know-how to make the farm thrive. She grew a few ears of corn and a pumpkin or two but not enough to sustain the family.
Eventually, there was no choice but to start selling off the animals and patches of land. The neighbors were generous in their offers. They didn’t take needlessly, and they offered them a fair price. Even so, that money didn’t last for long.
Anne not only conducted the family business but also kept the family fed. She cooked, she cleaned and she sent her younger sisters off to school. At 18, Anne was considered a woman, and it was expected for her to get married. Seeing as she was the one caring for the family, marriage wasn’t really an option.
Before Pa passed, Anne had a sweetheart. His name was Levi, and his dark hair and coal-black eyes made Anne’s knees week. He was her teacher, though he was barely older than she. He was 22 and eager to change the world. He loved God and his students, and to Anne, that love and charity was even more attractive than his stunning looks. Now that Pa was gone, Anne was just trying to keep her head abo
ve water. She didn’t have time for a sweetheart. It was painful, but she needed to put her family first
Her blue eyes stared out the window, taking in the stunning sea of green grass that blew softly in the wind. It was a beautiful, cloudless day. Normally, Anne would have been out picking flowers or meeting with Levi, but she was stuck in the house, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she scrubbed the floor.
Ma had gone out earlier that day. Although Anne was surprised, she didn’t want to burden Ma by asking too many questions. She let her go, staying silent and doing her housework. She was still gone, though, and Anne was starting to worry.
She picked up the bucket of dirty water and carried it to the back door to toss it out. Just as she was returning to the fireplace to start a fire for dinner, the door pushed open, and Ma stepped inside, smoothing out her dress with the envelope in her hand.
“Welcome home, Ma,” Anne said with a smile. Anne’s mother didn’t look up at her. She stared at the floor, her fingers brushing the soft fabric of her dress. Anne frowned and walked over to her with a concerned look. “Is everything OK, Ma?”
“You need to pack your things, Anne,” she whispered.
Anne was caught off guard. “What? Why do I need to pack my things?”
“Because you are going West,” she said.
“What do you … ”
“I have made arrangements with a gentleman out West. He is going to marry you—in exchange for a dowry.”
Anne finally understood. “You sold me?”
“Do not blame me, Anne,” she said sharply. “You are old enough to take a husband, so that’s what I expect you to do,”
“I put off marriage to take care of this family because you couldn’t,” Anne argued.
“Well, now you can do both. This marriage will keep your sisters and I in this house. Without this, Anne, we might lose the farm.”
Anne’s heart clenched as she looked down, her eyes wet with tears. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly. She didn’t want to leave Pikeville. She didn’t want to leave her family and her church. She didn’t want to leave Levi.
Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance) Page 13
