Herd to Breathe

by Amelia C. Adams

  That was a good incentive, and the girls scuttled along the sidewalk like obedient little baby ducks.

  Newt Jacobson gave them a grin as they entered. “Well, hello there. This is a nice surprise, three such lovely young ladies. What can I get you?”

  “We would like some licorice, please,” Madeline told him, her hands folded in front of her properly, and Cina smiled. She didn’t know if it was the captain or if the girls’ mother had drilled it into the girl, but she was definitely on her best behavior.

  “Absolutely. Three sticks, then?”

  “Yes, please,” Madeline replied.

  Mr. Jacobson looked at Cina for confirmation. She nodded, and he turned to the candy barrel.

  The door to the shop opened, and Mrs. Woods bustled in. “Oh, thank goodness I’ve caught up to you,” she said, taking Cina by the elbow. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s the matter? You look upset.”

  “Oh, I’m plenty upset, believe you me.” She guided Cina over to the corner and lowered her voice. “You know that the ladies’ auxiliary has done everything possible to keep everything above board where you girls are concerned.”

  “Of course. You’ve already given up countless hours of your time in chaperoning us.”

  “Yes, and in most cases, it’s not even needed. Take you and Mr. Gray. I’ve never seen two people less interested in sparking in all my days.”

  Cina smiled to hear this elderly woman using a word like “sparking.” But then her face grew solemn again as Mrs. Woods continued.

  “Gossip is a nasty beast, my dear. It takes hold of the tongue and controls it with a will of iron, and some of the women in this town are afflicted more than others.”

  “What’s going on, Mrs. Woods? What are people saying?”

  She looked distressed. “They’re saying it’s not right for you to be sitting in church with Darius Gray when Captain Spencer is obviously paying you some extra attention.”

  “But . . . but he’s not paying me extra attention,” Cina replied, flustered. “I’m tutoring his daughters, and all our conversations have been about them.” Well, mostly about them. They’d veered off topic slightly from time to time, but they’d always returned to the girls.

  “The gossips don’t know details like that, and they don’t care, either,” Mrs. Woods said. “They just see the handsome captain spending some time at the Redburn house, and that’s all they need to spread their poison.”

  Cina wished there was a chair handy. She’d like to sit down and catch her breath. “I’ll fix this somehow,” she said at last. “There must be a way.”

  “I’m sure you’ll handle it beautifully, my dear,” Mrs. Woods said. “Now, if I were you, I’d gather these girls up and read them a story. It looks to me like they’ve run out of licorice.”

  The two girls stood by the counter, no evidence of licorice anywhere on their faces or in their hands.

  “Thank you for talking to me, Mrs. Woods. I’ll see what I can do.” Cina turned toward the girls. “Let’s go to the house, all right?”

  “Don’t forget your licorice,” Mr. Jacobson said, handing it to her with a smile. “It’s on the house today.”

  “Are you sure? I can pay,” Cina faltered, but Mr. Jacobson merely shook his head and waved them toward the door.

  Once outside, Cina couldn’t imagine eating a thing, so she broke the licorice in two and gave half to each girl. They trotted along willingly, their feet quick and light while hers felt weighted down with bricks. What was she going to do? That was just the thing with gossip—it didn’t matter what she did. They were going to think whatever they wanted and say whatever they wanted. Could she just ride it out?

  When they reached the house, Cina brought out the school books and set the girls to working on some simple math equations. She heard the happy chattering of the brides in the other room as they discussed their various beaus, and she smiled to hear their laughter. Romance was much more complicated than she’d thought, and it seemed fraught with ups and downs. She certainly hadn’t planned to feel so very stuck.

  Alice poked her head into the room. “We’re going to walk over to the mercantile to see if we can find a treat Myrakle would like. Mrs. Clements suggested she might like to try something new. I see that you’re busy and can’t come—could we get you something?”

  “We just came from there, actually. Thank you for asking.”

  “Miss Fairbanks didn’t eat her licorice,” Summer informed Alice, a serious look on her face.

  “She didn’t? Well, that doesn’t sound right.” Alice turned to Cina. “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about things.”

  “All right, but if you want to talk later . . .”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Alice gave the girls another smile and then ducked back out of the room. A moment later, the door opened and shut, and the sound of voices trailed down the sidewalk and off into the distance.

  “You have lots of friends,” Summer said. “That must make you happy.”

  “I do have lots of friends, and yes, I’d say that makes me happy,” Cina replied. “We all came here to live at the same time, so it’s almost like we’re a family.”

  “I wish we had lots of friends,” Madeline said. “I don’t think we’ll ever have any.”

  Cina’s heart nearly broke at that. “Don’t you have any friends? Not even at the fort?”

  “There aren’t very many children at the fort. And the ones at school . . . well, they still teased me today about crying on Friday.” Madeline was studying her paper and didn’t look up to meet Cina’s gaze.

  “And did the teacher do anything about it?”

  “He told them to stop, but they’d already said it by then.”

  Cina pressed her lips together. It would take a tremendous amount of willpower not to say everything she was thinking. Children weren’t born mean. They learned it by watching others—others who had never been taught better. Of course, when she had children of her own, every theory she had would be tested, but one thing she knew full well—if a child was allowed to be unkind, they would continue it because they wouldn’t know any different. She couldn’t do much about those other children, but in this instance, she could do something to help the girls.

  “I’m sorry they’re choosing to be unkind to you,” she said, putting a hand on each girl’s shoulder. “I’m sure that makes you sad.”

  “Yes, it does. I want to punch their noses!” Summer said, waving her fist in the air.

  “But we don’t because Mama wouldn’t like it.” Madeline sounded like they’d had this conversation many times before, and she was getting tired of explaining it.

  “Oh. That’s right.” Summer slumped dejectedly. “And she’s watching over us, so she’d know.”

  Cina grinned. Oh, these children. “What do you think you should do instead of punching them?”

  “I think we should ignore them,” Madeline said. “I’ve tried being nice, and it doesn’t work.”

  “I’m glad you tried being nice, and you’re right—ignoring someone who’s being mean is a good idea. You have more important things to do than listen to them.”

  “That’s right.” Madeline held up her piece of paper. “Look at all these problems I solved. I can do this instead.”

  “Yes, you can. You can use your time doing something meaningful instead of worrying about them.”

  The girls seemed content with that answer, and their conversation turned back to math. Cina wished she had more to offer them, but Madeline seemed the wisest in that situation, recognizing that her attempts to be friendly were getting her nowhere and choosing to put her energy somewhere else. She was likely planting seeds of friendship for later, but who knew how long it would take for them to sprout.

  When Captain Spencer arrived to get the girls, Cina noticed that he was in a new uniform, and it fit his shoulders perfectly. It was hard not to notice something like that. />
  “The girls are just finishing up,” she told him as she showed him into the parlor. “And they left these behind last week—I thought you might want them.” She handed him the drawings of their mother.

  He took them and studied them, a smile on his face. “Budding artists,” he said, nodding toward them.

  “Yes, they could be. I’m seeing storytelling traits in Summer, too—she might become an author.”

  “She is always making little things up.” The captain looked over at his daughters, a flicker of pride and nostalgia both on his face. “They’re growing up so fast. It hardly seems fair that we don’t get more time to enjoy the moments before they’re gone.”

  “Did . . . No, never mind.”

  He turned back to face Cina. “What is it, Miss Fairbanks?”

  “Nothing. I was going to ask something that was none of my business, but I’ve changed my mind.” Why had she said anything? She wished she could snatch it out of the air and pretend she’d never spoken.

  “How do we know it’s none of your business if we don’t know what it is?”

  “Maybe you could just trust me?”

  “Or maybe you could trust me to be fair-minded about it.” His tone was lighthearted, but his eyes were intense, and she had to pull in a breath and look away.

  “I just find it remarkable that you’ve raised the girls yourself since your wife died. I’ve known other fathers in similar situations who weren’t able to do the same, and their children ended up being raised by aunts or other relatives. And I wondered if it was ever a hardship for you.”

  “I don’t consider that an inappropriate question, Miss Fairbanks.” He glanced over at the girls again. “At first, I didn’t know what to do. I was overwhelmed and far too young to be making such important decisions on my own, but I had to—I was the father, and it was up to me. I considered turning to my mother for help, but her health is poor, and there really isn’t anyone else. I felt sorry for myself for a few days, but then I realized that I could make a difference in our circumstances, and I chose to get up the next day, straighten my shoulders, and get to work. It helps that I’m in the military—I’ve had resources that others might not have, and I’ve been able to move up in ranks and earn some special accommodations as far as housing and whatnot as well.”

  “I think the girls are blessed to have you,” Cina replied.

  “No, I’m the blessed one. They show me that every day.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Cina went to answer it. She’d forgotten that Darius was coming, and when she greeted him, her surprise was evident in her voice.

  “Please, come in,” she said. “You remember Captain Spencer.”

  “Of course. Captain, hello.” Darius stepped forward and shook hands. “I see the girls have been hard at work.”

  “I did twos. Twos are hard,” Summer informed him.

  He gave her a nod, but it was clear he wasn’t paying much attention. “I’m sorry if I’ve arrived ahead of schedule.”

  Cina glanced at the clock. She and the captain had been chatting again, and time always flew when they did that. She should have been more observant, or at the very least, told the captain that she had an obligation.

  “Not at all, I’m sure. We were just getting ready to leave.” Captain Spencer looked at Cina. “Thank you, Miss Fairbanks. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The girls each gave her a hug, and they closed the door behind them as they left.

  “I’m sorry, Darius. We lost track of time. But did you see how well Summer is writing her twos? She’s becoming quite the expert.”

  “I’m sure she is.” His tone was wry. “I’m not much in the mood for the restaurant now, if you don’t mind. What if we took a drive instead?”

  Was he sulking again? Yes, she believed he was. She was sorry for disappointing him, but she wished he had another way of dealing with his disappointment. “We could eat here,” she suggested. “Beans has been working hard in the kitchen all afternoon.”

  “No, I’m not hungry. Let’s just go. Mrs. Woods is waiting for us in the carriage.”

  Cina opened her mouth to reply, closed it, and then paused. She couldn’t just let this go—it went against her very nature. “I’m sorry you’re not hungry anymore, but I am, and I’m sure Mrs. Woods is too. It’s not fair for you to decide if we get to eat, is it?”

  He blinked. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

  “I’ll see if Beans has something we can take along with us. That way, you get your drive, and we get our dinner.” Cina walked past him and went into the kitchen, taking a moment to get her temper under control. Honestly? He wasn’t hungry, so that meant no mealtime for anyone?

  Beans provided her with a fresh loaf of bread, some cheese, a bottle of lemonade, and some dried apples. “This ain’t nearly as good as what I’m makin’, but if you’ve gotta have somethin’ to eat on the run, this’ll do,” he told her.

  “Thank you, Beans. I don’t mean to spoil your nice dinner plans.”

  “Not at all. With all you gals comin’ and goin’ with your beaus, I never know who’s going to be here for dinner anyway.”

  She tucked the food into a basket, then carried it out to the entryway. Darius was standing by the front door, his fingers already resting on the handle.

  “Is something bothering you?” she asked. Of course there was, and she knew what it was, but they needed to discuss it, and she’d rather do it without Mrs. Woods nearby. It would be more comfortable in private.

  “I . . . I can’t help but feel jealous of Captain Spencer,” he said after a long moment. “He’s here every afternoon where I’m only able to come half that much, and you seem to get along well.”

  “We could get along well too,” she reminded him. “We’ve discussed opening up to each other—isn’t that our goal in courting?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and I’ll keep trying. I’ve mentioned that it’s difficult for me.”

  “You did, yes. And I appreciate every effort you make to overcome it.” She waited for a reply, but there didn’t seem to be one coming. “Let’s go, shall we? I’m sure Mrs. Woods is wondering where we are.”

  They ate their small meal as they rode along. Darius took a different road than he usually did, and when Cina asked about it, he replied, “I thought you might like to see my house.”

  “Your house? I’d love to see it.” She glanced at Mrs. Woods, who gave her an approving look. This was good news for their relationship, wasn’t it? Things were progressing?

  The house was white clapboard, with a charming flowerbed surrounding the foundation on all sides. The property, while not large, was edged with fruit trees in bloom, and the smell was heady.

  “This is a beautiful piece of land,” she said when Darius came around to help her down.

  “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed it quite a lot.” He helped Mrs. Woods down as well, then took the ladies on a tour.

  The house contained a front room, a spacious kitchen with a large table, a washroom, and two bedrooms. There were a couple of closets, but that was essentially all. Cina didn’t think she needed much, though—she could make this work, especially because it was clean and well-maintained. She wouldn’t have to scrub it top to bottom or discard years of trash to make it livable.

  Once she’d peeked into the pantry and noticed the fabric of the curtains on the windows, they went back outside, where he showed off his vegetable garden. Again, he came to life as he spoke, and she decided that she’d have a bench put right in the middle of the carrots so whenever she wanted to talk to him, she could bring him out here, sit him down, and have a decent conversation.

  “This is a lovely home,” she told him as they walked back out to the carriage. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

  “You like it, then?”

  “I do. Quite a lot.”

  He didn’t answer, but he did give a nod that looked rather satisfied.

  He helped both ladies back into the carriage. As he was walking around t
o climb in on his side, Mrs. Woods tucked her arm through Cina’s and whispered, “The patience of Job. That’s what you have, my dear.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Cina began.

  “Trust me. I’m old enough to know Job personally.”

  Cina grinned. She’d miss Mrs. Woods when the courtship was over and they were no longer required to have a chaperone.

  Chapter Eight

  Cina exited Myrakle’s room and closed the door behind her. The girl still wouldn’t come out, and Cina was beginning to wonder if they shouldn’t send for a doctor. Mrs. Clements had also wondered about that. Some sorts of grief required more than just time to overcome, and even visits from Mr. Penella, Myrakle’s suitor, didn’t seem to lighten her burden.

  “I just hope we’re doing all we can,” she said to Bert, who was passing her in the hall carrying a tray of tea, bread, butter, and jam.

  “I don’t know what else we can do, really,” Bert replied. “Could you open the door for me?”

  Cina took a step back and twisted the knob, then continued on her way downstairs.

  Her walk to the school was almost over too quickly. She was still trying to decide what to do about the gossip mongers in town, and her thoughts consumed the entire walk. Before she knew it, the girls had run up to her, and she was no closer to resolving the question than she had been before.

  “How was school today?” she asked as they walked back to the house. “Was anyone nicer today?”

  “No, but that’s all right because we decided we don’t need them,” Madeline said. “If they aren’t nice people, they probably wouldn’t make good friends anyway. If they change their minds and are nice, then we’ll be friends.”

  “So, you’re still ignoring them?” Cina asked. “You’re not being mean too, are you?”

  “We’re not allowed to be mean,” Summer replied. “Our daddy would put us in the corner.”

  “Well, that sounds like a good daddy,” Cina replied.

  When they arrived at the house, she had the girls read to her, and then they worked on their spelling. She had yet to find a subject where they were falling behind—it was like she told Darius. They just needed help to get through a rough patch, and now with these “mean” children at school, she was more glad than ever that she could do something to help.