The Glassblower

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  “But, Father.” Meg slid farther forward in her chair. “I told him, and he attacked Colin. Or tried to.”

  “He failed.”

  “But he won’t next time. Next time he’ll dismiss him, and that could be worse than a scar. I can’t marry Joseph now, even if he still wanted to marry me—which he doesn’t—but I’ve decided I can’t associate with Colin either.”

  “The poor lad. Why would you break his heart like this? Don’t you care for him after all?”

  “I do.” Meg gulped. “More than anything. But I caused so much trouble setting my cap for him it can’t be right.”

  “Seems to me Joseph caused the trouble, not you, my dear.”

  “Well yes, but if I hadn’t been so willful, wanting everything my own way—”

  “We don’t know what would have happened instead.” Father gave her a gentle smile. “One thing I did while waiting about in the city was talk to an old friend from Princeton. He’s a man of deep faith, but I’ve never asked him about it until now.” He leaned forward. “I see now that we’ve been going our own way and not trusting the Lord to either guide us or help us. We are doing good, we say, so we think it’s right.” Meg nodded.

  “And that makes us worry when things don’t go our own way.”

  She nodded harder.

  “But good doesn’t mean right.” Father rose and rounded the desk. “I got a no the first time I tried a city banker, so I took Joseph’s terms, thinking I was doing good for you. But after the incident with the tree, I knew I had to try again, humble myself if necessary. But first I prayed and left it in the Lord’s hands. It may be the first time in my life I’ve done that.”

  “I prayed, and the next day the school caved in.”

  “Destroyed by someone’s hand. Don’t you understand?” Father moved to crouch before her and took her hands in his. “God allowed this so I would see Joseph for the greedy, selfish, and dangerous man he is, not so you would think you should marry him.”

  Tension inside Meg eased just a bit. She still had to ask, “What about the glassworks? Everyone’s positions there?”

  “Safe.” Father broke into the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face. “When I asked for a loan before, I didn’t have the orders I do now. With these new contracts for glass, we’ll make a profit in no time and pay off my debt to Joseph. In fact, I paid him before I came home. He can’t threaten any of us any longer.”

  She covered up the stab of disappointment that she couldn’t celebrate this moment with Colin and grinned back. “Then let us join our friends and give thanks to God for the birth of His Son.”

  “Let’s. I believe I just heard some people arrive.” Father rose, a little stiffly, and drew Meg with him.

  They exited the study. Indeed several more people were crowding through the front door: Sarah’s parents and brothers, and behind them, a parcel in his hands, his bright hair dusted with snow, was Colin.

  Meg pressed her hand to her lips to stop herself from calling his name. She didn’t know why he’d come. Father began to introduce him to everyone, his voice ringing out with pride.

  “This is my master glassblower, Colin Grassick, come all the way from Edinburgh, Scotland, to bless us with his presence.”

  Colin smiled to the ladies, who preened before his charm, and shook hands with the men, who appeared a bit surprised. No one snubbed him. They wouldn’t. He had been presented as Father’s guest.

  Across the entry hall, Meg caught Sarah’s questioning glance and shrugged. She didn’t know what was afoot. She ached for Colin to speak to her, wish her a blessed Christmas if nothing else. Hearing his voice, seeing his smile, even past the heads of two dozen people, smoothed balm on her bruised spirit.

  Then only a dozen people stood between them. Half a dozen melted away. Three. Two …

  He stood in front of her, holding out his parcel. “A wee gift for you, hinnie.”

  “Th–thank you.” Aware that the crowd watched her, Meg took the package and looked at him. “Should I open it?”

  “Of course,” people chorused.

  “Aye, open it.” Colin smiled. “‘Twas to be a wedding gift and perhaps still is.”

  “No no. I don’t have to marry Joseph now. That is—” Her hands shook.

  “Aye, I ken. Your father stopped to talk to me on his way home.” He took back the parcel. “I’ll be holding it.”

  “Thank you.” Fingers clumsy, Meg untied the string and allowed the brown paper wrapping to fall back. Meg thought she gasped, but she couldn’t be sure amid the collective inhalation.

  Before her, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, rested a goldfinch as delicate and detailed as the ones who populated the countryside, brownish in the winter but golden in summer.

  “‘Tis a perfume bottle in which to store your apple blossom scent.”

  “Colin, I—” Tears blurred the work of art before her, and her throat closed.

  “Martha Dalbow says the goldfinch takes a partner for all his life,” Colin said, his rich voice flowing around her like music.

  “If he sings as well as he talks,” the pastor said from the parlor doorway, “we have to get him into the choir.” Meg choked on a giggle.

  “So what better gift for a bride than a goldfinch?” Colin continued as though no one had spoken.

  “But I’m not going to be a bride,” Meg murmured. “You know that.”

  “I ken nay such thing.” He tucked one hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “I cannot offer you many fine servants and a grand house, hinnie, but I can give you my heart, my devotion, my enduring love, if you’ll consent to becoming my wife.”

  All too aware of a score of people witnessing this proposal, Meg struggled for an appropriate response.

  “Yes,” someone hissed. “Just say yes.”

  “F–Father,” Meg stammered.

  “I have his blessing, if you can bear to be wed to a mere glassblower.”

  “Colin Grassick, I’ve never thought of you as a mere anything.” Meg’s tongue released with a spate of words. “How dare you think I would turn down the man I love because he works with his hands instead of ordering people about. Never has it been my choice to separate myself from people because—”

  He raised his thumb from her chin to her lips, stilling the flow of speech. “Then I understand you are saying yes?”

  “Yes!” Meg cried.

  And as the Christmas party guests laughed and cheered, Colin lowered his head and kissed her in front of what sounded like half the residents of Salem County, New Jersey.

  epilogue

  Carriage wheels rumbled on the hard-packed lane leading to the Jordan house, and Colin grasped the railing around the porch to keep himself from jumping up and down like a small boy. Beside him Meg danced in place, sending her curls and hat ribbons bouncing. “It’s them, Colin, I know it is.”

  “Aye, lass, I believe so. But perhaps a wee bit of decorum before you meet my mother?” Grinning he tucked a pin back into her hair.

  “Oh no, is she strict? You never told me she’s strict.”

  “Nay, she’s as gentle as a—well, she’s more like a ewe than a lamb, but far smarter.”

  “She won’t like me.” Meg began fussing with her curls, her ribbons, the puffed sleeves of her muslin gown. “She’ll take one look at me and say I’m not good enough for you. And she’s right. You’re so thoughtful and good, and I’m still willful and—oh, that cat!”

  Wanderer rambled onto the porch, leaped atop the railing, and proceeded to bat at Meg’s hat ribbons fluttering in the summer breeze.

  “Leave her be, you beastie.” Colin scooped the cat to the ground.

  “Did he mess them up? Please make certain I look all right. I don’t have time to go find a mirror.”

  “You look as bonnie as ever.” Colin cupped her face in his hands and smiled into her eyes.

  Behind her extraordinarily long lashes, the amber irises shimmered like gemstones. Her lips parted in a half smile, a
nd he kissed them.

  “Now they’ve come, we can wed, aye?”

  “Aye, I mean, yes. Tomorrow. No, tomorrow is the Fourth of July. The day after. There they are.”

  “And none too soon.”

  Meg had refused to marry him until his family arrived. Sending messages to Scotland and making the arrangements for six Grassicks to pack up their home and sail across an ocean made hazardous by the war between England and France and uncomfortable relations with England and America, proved time-consuming and sometimes seemed impossible. But a messenger arrived on horseback the previous day announcing they would reach Salem County the next day.

  That came, and there they were, five brothers and sisters tumbling from a coach, pushing and shoving, shrieking and crying, and looking like they’d grown a foot apiece.

  Colin landed on the ground without use of the steps and raced forward to greet them. All of them at once. He gathered as many into his arms as he could reach and didn’t mind that his eyes misted so badly he could scarcely see their faces.

  “This country is huge.”

  “Are we going to live here?”

  “Where can we go fishing?”

  The questions poured over him, bombarded him, felt like a shower of gifts.

  “And have you forgotten your mother, hinnie?” a soft voice asked from close beside him.

  “I could never forget you.” Colin drew her into the circle of his arms, too. “‘Tis glad I am to have you here.”

  “And you.” She stepped back and scanned him from head to toe. “America agrees with you.”

  “My bride-to-be takes good care of me.” Colin glanced over his shoulder and saw Meg poised at the top of the steps, her fingers fluttering like her ribbons. “Will you come to meet them, Meg?”

  She headed down the steps and glided over the gravel with the grace of a princess. The children fell silent. The eldest of his brothers, a mere lad of eleven, stared with open admiration. The eldest girl, a woman of five and twenty, tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips then glanced down at her own muslin gown. She didn’t need to speak for Colin to guess the comparisons she was making. If he knew his Meg, she would be giving Fiona and the other lasses half her gowns within the hour.

  His Meg. The mere thought of that sent joy surging through him, and he stepped forward to take her hand in his. “Meg, let me present you to my mother and the rest of the clan; Fiona, Annabel, Jean, Jock, and Douglas.”

  “How do you do?” Her voice came out breathy, and her hand shook.

  “Do not fash yourself over remembering all of them,” Mother said, taking Meg’s hand in both of hers. “Sometimes I forget them myself.”

  “How could you forget such beautiful children?” Meg glanced at Colin. “And you look too young to have a son as ancient as Colin.”

  Mother laughed. “I see you found yourself a flatterer.”

  “Oh no, I’m not like that. I’m simply on my best behavior today. I’m so afraid you’ll meet me and not want me marrying your son and—”

  “Hush, hinnie.” Colin touched his finger to her lips. “They’ll love you as much as I do soon enough.”

  “Indeed we will.” Mother glanced from one of them to the other. “As long as you love my son and the Lord, you have my blessing.”

  “Well yes, I do, very much. And—oh, here’s Father.” She waved to Isaac as he exited the house. “Father, come meet Colin’s family. Aren’t they beautiful?”

  “They are a fine sight to see in my yard.” Meg’s father descended the steps and held out his hand to Mother.

  And as their hands and eyes met, Colin caught the flash of a bird taking flight, the bright yellow plumage of a goldfinch in full summer glory.

  To my agent, who wouldn’t let me give up.

  A note from the Author:

  I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:

  Laurie Alice Eakes

  Author Relations

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  Uhrichsville, OH 44683

  Award-winning author LAURIE ALICE EAKES has always loved books. When she ran out of available stories to entertain and encourage her, she began creating her own tales of love and adventure. In 2006 she celebrated the publication of her first hardcover novel. Much to her astonishment and delight, it won the National Readers Choice Award. Since then, she has sold eight more historical romances. A graduate of Asbury College and Seton Hill University, she lives in Texas with her husband and sundry animals.