Sadie’s ears seemed to be ringing. This was beyond anything she’d ever suspected. It could be the solution to the problem that had been tying her into knots for weeks. But… “I don’t want to leave home,” she admitted.
“There’s no need for you to,” her mother said hastily, yet firmly. “We’ll make do. We always have.”
Sadie stopped walking, and clutched her mother’s hands in her own. “Mama, you know it’s not as easy as that. As long as Papa can’t work—you and I can’t make up the difference. But if I were married—if I married someone kind—maybe he would be willing to provide for my family, too. It has to be something you’ve considered.”
Her mother’s eyes were pained. “I had thought of it. But Sadie… I don’t want you to jeopardize your future for our sake. You shouldn’t marry someone simply because they’re convenient. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“Nothing could make me happier than knowing that I had some part in providing for my family,” Sadie said. Tears filled her eyes and she threw her arms around her mother—never mind acting like a grown-up. “I have to at least try it. And if it doesn’t work out, well, maybe I can find a job in New York.” The very words felt strange and exotic on her lips. She shivered, and tried to hide her reaction.
“I won’t stop you going,” her mother said, her words muffled in Sadie’s shoulder. “But, love, know that any time you want to, you’ll be welcome back here. Don’t do anything that makes you unhappy.”
“I won’t,” Sadie promised, then took a deep breath, hoping to stifle her tears.
* * *
Sadie clutched Harriet’s letter in her hands as the train shook its way along the track. A piece of paper seemed a flimsy thing on which to make a decision that would affect the rest of her life—but the contents of this particular letter were momentous enough to have forced her hand.
It was a short letter to change at least one life. Though it began with a salutation to her mother and a wish for good health, it wasted no time in getting to the point. I have enclosed some money, which I hope will ease your way, her mother’s cousin had written. But there is something more I can offer you, or rather, your daughter Sadie…
She knew relatively little about this cousin, whom she’d never met, but she gathered from the letter, and from the few stories her mother had vouchsafed her before her departure, that Harriet was old and very rich. With me as chaperone, she can seek out the husband a small town could not provide. I may be unmarried, but my reputation makes me no one to be trifled with.
Trifled with. It had been easy, in her parents’ parlor, to think of this journey as one with predefined steps and a guaranteed outcome. She would meet rich men, determine which were amenable to marriage, make her selection, and be home to tell her parents the good news within a month. But, of course, New York was infamous for its confidence men, its criminals. It was just as likely she might find herself taken advantage of, abandoned, and left in a worse situation than just struggling to make ends meet. She tried to force down the terror by taking deep breaths and watching the scenery fly by, still green and populated with trees enough to seem like home.
The train pulled into the station and broke Sadie from her reverie. She stood to gather her two small valises; they’d shipped her trunk and it would arrive the next week.
While she was gathering her bags, someone collided with her from behind, causing one of the valises to go sprawling down the aisle, the clasps popping open. Sadie whirled, furious, to face her assailant.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said; “let me help you pick that up.” It was a young man, his hat at a rakish angle; Sadie thought at first that their collision had knocked it awry, but the fact that he didn’t immediately straighten it suggested otherwise, as did the rest of his appearance: the man was dressed in clothing that was well-made and stylish, but somewhat sloppily kept, the jacket and vest partially unbuttoned and the tie askew. He clearly had no man—or wife—to help him dress, and was too impatient to take the time to care for his appearance himself.
As Sadie made her observations, the young man was already reaching beyond her. “Oh, no,” she said, propelled back into action by the thought of him rummaging around among her own clothing. “It’s no trouble at all. Don’t let me delay you.”
“Don’t be silly,” the young man said, and with no further discussion heaved the valise onto one of the seats. Sadie reluctantly moved aside while he gathered the items that had fallen out in order to allow other passengers to move past. As soon as the way was clear, she darted forward just in time to watch the stranger deftly close the lid of her valise and fasten the clasps. He lifted it up and, instead of handing it back to her, swung it once as if to test its weight.
“What’s your destination?” he asked.
“Fifth Avenue—but—” she said, confused. “You needn’t carry my luggage. I am going to hire a hackney.”
“Let me at least walk you to the street,” he said. “As an apology for nearly knocking you over.” He smiled and hoisted the other valise up from the seat, and Sadie was left trailing behind him, feeling helpless.
She was glad enough to have company as they fought their way through crowded Grand Central Terminal. Sadie had never ridden on a train before today, and while she was sure she could have navigated the station on her own, it would have taken longer and left her exhausted. The young man conveyed her across the building so quickly she was barely aware of its enormity, let alone the sheer number of people who shared the space with them. Before she knew it, they were out on the pavement.
The city was less noisy than the station, but being open to the air, it seemed it must be even more clamorous to produce so much disorder. Sadie found her steps faltering as she took in the racket, the smells, the massive wall of humanity that now faced her. She had to force herself to keep up with her companion.
“First time in the city?” he asked with an understanding grimace.
“Yes,” Sadie replied, her voice little more than a whisper. She tried again. “I’ve come to live here, with a cousin, but I’d never before been out of my home town.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said.
“Have you visited many times?”
“Naw,” he said, with a strangely appealing drawl. “I’ve never been here before either! I’ve just been in enough places to figure out my way around.” His eyes were roving, searching the street for, she assumed, some signal she could not recognize that meant a vehicle was unoccupied. “Here!” he shouted, and a moment later he was ushering her into a carriage.
“Thank you, Mr.—” Sadie said hurriedly.
“Slater,” he told her, “Charley Slater.” He swept his hat off his head for a little bow, and replaced it even more cock-eyed than it had been before. He waited expectantly.
“I am Miss Chisolm,” she said, feeling it was rude to deny him her name after his assistance, though knowing it was improper to offer it.
“I hope you enjoy New York City, Miss Chisholm. Perhaps we’ll encounter each other again.” He stepped back and the driver flicked his whip, causing the horse to surge forward into the tumult and Mr. Slater to disappear from her site. Sadie felt oddly disappointed, perhaps because she was now entirely without friends in this city, having lost the only person she knew at all—even if their acquaintance had lasted for only a few moments.
Other Works by Meredith Acker
Novels & Novellas
Miss Pierce's Protégées
SHORT STORY: "End of the Engagement" (May 2016)
Planning on Passion (March 2016)
Depths of Desire (June 2016)
Ardent After All (Forthcoming 2016)
NOVELLA: Seduced by a Stranger (Forthcoming)
Lessons in Love (Forthcoming)
Novelettes & Short Stories
Christmas at College
“All Wrapped up in You” (December 2015)
“Snowed in with You” (December 2015)
About Meredith
A southern transplant to New York, Meredith fell in love with an Italian boy from Long Island, and now she’s stuck here. They live in Brooklyn, where she is shadowed by a faithful and affectionate girl cat. She works in midtown in a big fancy office by day, then comes home and writes stories about other people kissing.
Website | Mailing List | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest
End of the Engagement Page 3
