These Tangled Threads

by Tracie Peterson

  “I do believe in abolition. I don’t think people should own each other. However, permitting Liam Donohue to court you is a totally different issue. You listen to me, Daughtie Winfield. You stand to lose more than you think if you continue down this path of defiance. It may be a step up the social ladder for Liam Donohue to be seen with you on his arm, but it is certain death to any future marriage plans of yours. Do you think any respectable man is going to escort you, much less marry you, after you’ve been associated with an Irishman? If you have any sense at all, you’ll cease this imprudent behavior immediately.”

  Daughtie sat momentarily silent, mystified and quite unable to comprehend Ruth’s behavior. “I was taught from the time I was a little girl that we all have equal value in the eyes of God. Two Negro women joined the Shakers and lived with us at Canterbury. They were our sisters, treated no differently than anyone else. Nothing more and nothing less was expected of them; the same rules applied to everyone; the same benefits were enjoyed by all. Why must it be so different out here among the world’s people?”

  “Greed and selfishness, I suppose,” Ruth replied simply.

  Daughtie nodded. “Life isn’t so simple away from the structured existence of the Shakers, where personal belongings are nonexistent. However, I believe change can occur—if we’re willing to pay the price.”

  Liam prepared for bed, thinking all the while of Daughtie Winfield and her passion for equality in mankind.

  “For sure she’s like no lass I’ve ever met,” he murmured to himself.

  And indeed she was unique. Her upbringing seemed to envision a world that Liam was sure could never exist—a world where no one would think twice if Liam were to show up on her doorstep to escort her to a dance or a lecture.

  “That world will never exist!” he declared, crawling into bed. “The world would never be seein’ the likes of me on the arm of a Yankee girl like her.”

  It was best to put thoughts of such a nature completely from his mind. Better to concentrate on his work. He was scheduled to begin the creation of a stone staircase for a Mr. and Mrs. Price. Mrs. Price had recently been to England, where she was entertained in the home of some grand lord and lady. Their staircase was of palatial proportions; however, Mrs. Price was confident Liam could recreate the entire thing, on a smaller scale, for her new home. Being an artist, she had made multiple sketches of the stairs, banisters, and newels. They would be paying him a nice tidy sum for the grand stonework they’d described, and he would have a good amount of cash to send home to his mother and family.

  Taking a deep breath, Liam blew out the candle on his bed table and closed his eyes. He thought of his boyhood home—of racing across the stone bridge with his playmates, of learning to jump his mare over rock walls and streams. Those were the moments he’d been most happy as a child. Life had seemed quite simple then. He had enough food to fill his belly and a warm bed in which to sleep. Every night his mother would come to tuck him in, bending over to gently kiss his forehead and bid him pleasant dreams.

  But memories of his mother soon faded, replaced by Daughtie Winfield’s dark-eyed gaze. He could see her clearly enough in his mind that if he’d wanted to, he could have etched her in stone. Her face was almost heart-shaped, with huge brown eyes that seemed to take in every detail of life. Her nose was pert, turned up just a bit at the end, and her lips . . . He pushed the images aside and rolled over on his stomach.

  “My mother would say I’m bewitched,” he muttered. “She’d say the fairies had taken my mind, and no doubt she’d have a charm or potion to rid me of such misery and thoughts.”

  But in truth, he didn’t want to stop such thoughts. In fact, he’d just as soon lose himself in dreams of what could never be.

  CHAPTER 12

  London

  Bella’s lips formed a contented smile. She stared into the blazing fire, the warmth coloring her cheeks a rosy pink. “This was a lovely Christmas,” she whispered, her fingers reaching to touch the cameo pin at her neckline while snuggling against Taylor’s chest. With Grandfather Farnsworth asleep in his bed and the others out enjoying a short visit with their friends, Bella and Taylor were alone for the first time in days.

  Taylor pulled her closer, then leaned down to place a kiss atop her head. “I know you would have preferred celebrating Christmas in Massachusetts, but you’ve been a good sport about all of this. Even though I haven’t said so before, I hope you realize I’m very thankful for your sweet attitude. Had you been in a dour mood about remaining in England, I don’t know what I would have done,” he confessed.

  “You need to be here with your family, especially now that your grandfather’s health is no longer improving. I fear I’ve done little other than lend moral support. I wish there were more I could do.”

  Taylor placed a finger beneath her chin and, tilting her head upward, gazed into her eyes. “You have been an immense help, especially with Elinor. I don’t know what we would have done without you. Somehow you’ve miraculously managed to keep her entertained and out from underfoot. Believe me, that is quite an accomplishment. Grandmother has been ailing herself, and keeping up with Elinor takes more energy than she can muster.”

  “Elinor is a sweet girl. I find she uses her misbehavior to gain attention. Whenever I lend an ear to her woes or provide a bit of entertainment, she immediately settles. She’s even begun reading with me each day,” Bella replied.

  Taylor nodded. “When I saw her sitting and stitching while you read to her the other day, I could hardly believe my eyes. Quite frankly, I didn’t think Elinor had any idea how to use a needle.”

  Bella giggled. “She didn’t. There were quite a few pricked fingers and several screams of pain before she mastered the technique. However, she’s taken quite a liking to needlepoint. I’m going to see if I can interest her in tatting over the next few weeks.”

  “From what I saw of Grandmother’s Christmas gift, you’re quite the teacher. I’m not sure who was more excited over the gift, Elinor or Gran.”

  “We used to make sewing kits in the Shaker Village and sell them to the townsfolk or give them as gifts to visitors. They were one of our bestselling items. Elinor is quite interested in the Shakers—she’s been quizzing me incessantly.”

  Taylor’s laughter filled the room. “I can’t imagine our Elinor interested in the strict communal life of a Shaker. She can’t even discipline herself to come to the dinner table on time. How would she ever survive?”

  Bella joined his laughter. “You’d be surprised how quickly Eldress Phoebe could change bad habits. A hickory switch to the legs and extra laundry duties usually made an impression upon us. Of course, I’d never want to see Elinor forced into such a situation. A child needs the freedom to enjoy her early years without fear of constant reprimand. I’m ever so thankful I have memories of life with my parents before going to live in Canterbury. Poor Daughtie spent her entire life among the Shakers until we ran off.”

  “And I’m still surprised she agreed to leave with you,” Taylor remarked.

  Bella smiled and nodded. “I don’t think she regrets her decision. Ever since she secured the drawing-in position at the Appleton, she’s been content.”

  “Did she say anything in her last letter about finding a beau?” Taylor inquired.

  “No. I am a bit concerned, however. She mentioned Liam Donohue several times in her letter. I’m beginning to fear that her interest in him goes beyond friendship.”

  “Liam’s a fine man. Not many Englishmen could match his work ethic, and his talent is without challenge.”

  “A fine man, yes. But he’s Irish. We both know such a relationship is unacceptable. Daughtie would be shunned by the entire town.”

  “You’re worrying unnecessarily, my dear. I doubt either one of them would enter into such a thorny situation.”

  Bella gave him a sidelong glance. “Once love begins to bloom, people tend to forget the difficulties of ‘thorny situations.’ I do hope Daughtie will guard herself
against heartache.”

  “Pen her a letter and speak of your concerns. After all, you’re the closest to family she’s ever known, and I’m certain she values your opinion.”

  “Perhaps I’ll write her tomorrow while Elinor works on her stitching.”

  Taylor turned to face Bella and then clasped her hands in his own. “I’m truly pleased you and Elinor have been getting on so well, because Gran has approached both Uncle John and me about Elinor’s future. She’s asked that we consider taking Elinor back to Massachusetts with us. I told them I didn’t feel we could undertake such a responsibility. After all, we’re newlyweds not yet adjusted to marriage, and a nine-year-old is quite a handful, but Gran said to pray about it and talk to you.”

  Bella swallowed hard before speaking. “What did your uncle John say? Perhaps he and Aunt Addie would be the better choice to raise Elinor.”

  “Exactly what I thought. But Uncle John pointed out that we would be much better suited than he and Aunt Addie since we’re young and would be more capable of keeping pace with a girl Elinor’s age.”

  “Oh, pshaw! Aunt Addie was managing a boardinghouse filled with young women not long ago, and her health hasn’t deteriorated one iota since marrying your uncle. Don’t misunderstand—I think your grandmother has a valid concern, but what about your older sister, Beatrice, and her husband? They’re in Scotland, and that would be in closer proximity if Elinor wanted to return and visit your grandmother from time to time. Surely Elinor would be happier with her own sister.”

  Taylor’s laughter was tinged with disdain. “Don’t expect Beatrice to step forward and offer assistance. She’s always been one to shirk any responsibility that happened her way, and I don’t expect she’s changed a jot. Besides, if Beatrice and that Scot she calls a husband did agree to rear Elinor, they’d expect the child to arrive with a pocketful of coins to pay for her keep and then require Gran to send money at every turn. They’d bleed Gran for every farthing she’s managed to save. In addition, Elinor would likely run off before she’d ever agree to live with Beatrice. They can’t seem to abide each other for more than a few minutes at a time.”

  Bella refused to panic. They would be in London until early spring. By winter’s end, they would surely arrive at an agreeable solution. “Well, then, we’ll do as your grandmother has requested. We’ll pray that the Lord will provide a solution.”

  Taylor silently stared into the fire, his hands, fingertip to fingertip, forming a small pyramid. Finally, he turned toward her. “Yes, surely by spring we shall have an answer.”

  Just then a ruckus sounded at the front door. Taylor got up to see what was the cause and Bella followed him into the vestibule just as Elinor burst into the house.

  “Oh, Bella, you missed the best fun. There was dancing and storytelling, and Uncle John even sang for us.”

  John assisted Addie and Cordelia through the door as Elinor made this announcement. He laughed and released the women. “A mistake I won’t be repeating.”

  Bella smiled. “I’m sure your offering was as fine as could be had.”

  “If you heard me and still thought so,” John said, helping Cordelia from her coat, “I would have to assume you to be tone deaf.”

  Taylor laughed and pulled his wife close. “Uncle John doesn’t lie. He sounds rather like a hound to the fox.”

  Bella elbowed Taylor and moved to Uncle John’s side. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous because he can’t carry a tune.”

  John winked. “It’s a family curse.”

  “Not so,” Addie threw in, “for Elinor sang like a bird.

  She has a sweet voice.”

  The girl beamed under the praise. “I love to sing.”

  “See there,” John replied, pointing to the girl, “she’s inherited all of the family talent.”

  “Come now,” Cordelia stated stiffly, “let us go into the parlor and warm up. I’m certain in spite of the hour we can still have a cup of tea and some refreshments.”

  Bella remembered her arrangements with the cook. “Indeed we can, for I had such thoughts earlier in the evening. I’ve already arranged for tea and some other goodies. Just come in by the fire and I’ll see to it.”

  Cordelia eyed Bella for a moment, and then with a look of approval she nodded and motioned the family to the parlor.

  Taylor followed Bella to the kitchen. “You’ve made points with her for sure. My grandmother is not easily won over, but I believe you have her in the palm of your hand.”

  “I hope she doesn’t think me simply trying to impress.”

  “I’m sure she recognizes your good nature and ability to think ahead. She values sensible people,” Taylor replied, halting Bella before she entered the kitchen. He pulled her into his arms. “And I value the warmth of your lips and the sweetness of your kiss.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

  “I see some of us are getting our refreshment sooner than others,” John Farnsworth said, surprising them both.

  Bella jumped back, feeling her face grow hot, while Taylor only laughed. “I couldn’t help myself, sir.” He threw Bella a look of pure mischief. “She insisted.”

  Bella gasped. “Taylor Manning! How dare you tell such falsehoods—and on Christmas!”

  The men roared with laughter while Bella turned back for the kitchen. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips.

  CHAPTER 13

  Lowell

  January 1834

  Church was over and the noonday meal completed. Ruth, Daughtie, Naomi, and little Theona sat in the parlor, the four of them primly lined up on the settee and chairs with their hands folded, poised, as if waiting to be cued into action. However, when a knock on the front door finally sounded, they all startled.

  “I’ll go,” Mrs. Arnold announced, standing and pressing the wrinkles from her skirt with the palm of her hand while moving toward the front door.

  Daughtie and Ruth leaned forward as the door hinges squeaked, straining to hear the exchange of voices or perhaps catch a glimpse of the doctor who would be depriving Mrs. Arnold of a portion of the house. Being hired as a physician for employees of the mills granted Dr. Ketter the right to occupy the greater portion of the first floor. Mrs. Arnold’s voice sounded more animated than usual as she offered welcoming words. Moments later, the older woman returned to the parlor with the new doctor in tow.

  Daughtie noted he was a slim, smallish sort of man with a narrow face and aquiline nose. His dark brown hair and eyes were his better attributes, she decided, for while he was not an ugly man by any account, neither was he truly handsome.

  “Dr. Ivan Ketter, I’d like to introduce Miss Daughtie Winfield and Miss Ruth Wilson. And this,” she said, taking Theona’s tiny hand in her own, “is my daughter, Theona.”

  Dr. Ketter gave a slight bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. When I was told of the disruption my arrival would cause, I became concerned that perhaps I should find another place to set up my practice. However, Mrs. Arnold’s letter set me at ease. I want to thank all of you for your willingness to accept these changes.”

  They’d really had no choice in the matter, but Daughtie wouldn’t embarrass him with that tidbit of information. The Corporation had declared Dr. Ketter would board with Mrs. Arnold, using the downstairs rooms for his living quarters and medical practice, with the exception of the kitchen and the dining area. Those two rooms would remain under Mrs. Arnold’s authority. The parlor would be rearranged as a waiting room for his patients; the bedroom Mrs. Arnold and Theona had shared would become an examination room. Daughtie lamented the fact that there would be no parlor for entertaining guests or reading by the fireplace on a cold winter’s evening, but Mrs. Arnold was at the mercy of the Corporation. Of course, the Associates had been generous in granting their permission for her to remain in the house after her husband’s discharge from the Appleton. She could ill afford to be less than receptive to their recent announcement, but moving to an upstairs bedroom with little Theona would certain
ly make her life more difficult.

  Obviously the changes would be most difficult for Mrs. Arnold and Theona, so Daughtie attempted to hide her irritation over the newest boarder. After all, she shouldn’t make this any more difficult for Mrs. Arnold. Besides, she reasoned, bearing a grudge against the doctor would be unfair: it isn’t his fault the Corporation foisted him upon Mrs. Arnold.

  And so she smiled and gave a small curtsy in response to his welcoming gesture before glancing upward. As she met his eyes, he stared deep into hers. The boldness of his gaze caused her to quickly look away.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, appearing surprised by her discomfiture. “Daughtie. Is that a nickname for Dorothy?” he inquired, obviously hoping a bit of cordial conversation would set matters aright.

  “No. I was told that my parents were certain they would have a son. Because of their confidence, they had not chosen a girl’s name. My father called me Daughter, and my mother decided to shorten Daughter to Daughtie— at least that’s what Sister Mercy told me.” The doctor’s face appeared to cloud with confusion, but Daughtie ignored the questioning gaze and directed him to Ruth. “Ruth, step forward and meet Dr. Ketter.”

  The doctor briefly greeted Ruth but immediately turned his attention back toward Daughtie. “I’m going to want to hear more about you, Miss Winfield.”

  “Perhaps you should get settled, Dr. Ketter. I’m certain your journey was tiring, and Mrs. Arnold has your rooms prepared—don’t you, Mrs. Arnold?”

  “Indeed. And I hope you’re going to be comfortable with the way I’ve arranged the rooms. I thought you could use the parlor as your waiting room, and I’ve made very few changes. You may want to purchase some additional seating, for when word spreads that you’ve arrived, I’m certain there will be many townsfolk who wish to avail themselves of your services.”