Rhyme or Reason

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Rhyme or Reason Page 6

by Amelia C. Adams


  “Isn’t that true for everyone?”

  “Yes, but it holds special meaning for me.” She took another sip of her water, then smiled. “After tonight, I’ll be ready to let go of some things that have held me back. I think I’m ready to discover who I really am.” Then she chuckled, remembering how she’d made Mr. Redfern guess at her identity. They were two different things entirely, but the irony of it was certainly amusing.

  ***

  Tobias sat in the darkness, absolutely transfixed by Miss Brown as she finished her song. He’d never heard anything more beautiful in his life. Had it been perfect? No. She’d been a bit wobbly at the start, but he could overlook that easily because her voice was honest and pure. She was not as well trained as other singers he’d heard, and her stage presence wasn’t as commanding. At times, she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. None of that mattered. Her sincerity shone through every note, and he felt as though he’d just been granted a look into her soul. That was worth several dozen of the ticket price at least.

  She seemed genuinely surprised at the response she received from the audience, and that only endeared her more. She was not only talented, but she was humble about that talent. She didn’t demand their praise, and she was grateful to receive it. That would serve her well.

  As Tobias watched her leave the stage, he knew one thing for certain. He was falling in love with Miss Brown.

  He realized, of course, how premature that sounded, but it wasn’t really. She’d only arrived in town a few days before, but in that short time, they’d had meaningful conversations. True, those conversations weren’t always serious, but he’d come to know her through the lighthearted moments just as well, if not better. And he was coming to know himself, too—he was seeing that he wasn’t just a skinny, studious fellow with spectacles and a penchant for English tea, but he was also witty. He never would have discovered that without her, and it was an aspect of himself he was rather proud of. It clearly made sense that he should marry her so he could keep being witty, and thereby keep being proud of himself, for years to come.

  And then he blinked. Had he just decided that he’d like to marry Miss Brown?

  Yes, he believed he had.

  That certainly wasn’t a conclusion he’d thought to reach while at the opera.

  Next he supposed he ought to find out what Miss Brown thought about it.

  But she’d just begun a new career. She likely wasn’t in a position to think about marriage, let alone to actually do it. She’d want time to establish herself, and then possibly to evaluate her plans and determine whether she wanted to keep singing after they wed, or if she wanted to stop singing and have a family instead.

  He shook his head. He was in such a fuddle thinking about the possibilities that he’d started making all kinds of assumptions—first, that she wouldn’t want to get married, and second, that she would. He couldn’t assume a single thing. He needed to talk to her and find out what she wanted, and to stop letting his wild imagination come up with her answers. And he really shouldn’t be trying to figure out the end of their love story when he’d only just now realized they had a love story.

  He barely paid attention to the next two acts—he was eager to hear her sing again, and when she stepped back out onto the stage, he held his breath in anticipation. She didn’t disappoint. If anything, she was even better now that she had broken the ice of that first performance. He glanced around to see the faces of the other audience members. They seemed equally transfixed. Well, no, that couldn’t be right. If they were all falling in love with her as he was, he’d have quite the competition. But they were enjoying her performance, and he knew they’d be back and would likely encourage their friends to come as well. She was getting her career off to a wonderful start.

  At the close of the concert, the performers lined up in the lobby to greet the audience, and Miss Brown had quite a crowd waiting to speak to her. Tobias held back, wanting to push his way through, but not wanting to cause a scene. When it was his turn, she looked at him with shining eyes. “You came,” she said. “And you didn’t throw anything at me.”

  “I couldn’t find anything to throw,” he replied. “The general store was out of rotten tomatoes.”

  “That’s a shame. I was rather looking forward to it.” She smiled, then whispered, “How was it really? I trust you to tell me the truth.”

  If Tobias were to act on his impulses in that moment, he would drop to one knee and propose on the spot. However, he decided he should probably behave himself. “It was outstanding,” he replied instead. “I was mesmerized.”

  “Were you?” She smiled, and her whole being seemed to light up. “I’ve never been so scared and so elated and so . . . overwhelmed in my entire life.”

  “I never would have guessed.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like I’m holding up the line. I’ll go, but let me take you to lunch tomorrow, all right? Will you meet me at the bookstore at noon?”

  “I’ll be there,” she promised.

  He gave her hand a quick squeeze before walking away.

  He wished there was a means to bottle up all the memories from that night and keep them forever. He also wished he could show her the performance from his perspective. If she knew how truly well she’d done, she’d likely be less nervous the next time. There was no such magic, however, so he’d simply have to tell her again the next time he saw her.

  Which would be over lunch.

  He had a definite spring in his step as he walked home. Yes, he was very much enjoying falling in love with Miss Brown.

  Chapter Eight

  When Louisa reached her room at Mrs. Handy’s, she didn’t bother to take off her shoes or her wraps. She plopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, numb and invigorated all at once. Every sense was tingling, and yet she couldn’t move a muscle.

  She had done it—she had really done it. She had taken the stage, performed for the audience, conveyed everything she wanted to convey, and they had appreciated it. Her ears were still buzzing from all the praise she’d received afterward. She’d been invited to parties. Several people had said it was the most enjoyable night out they’d had for a long time.

  With all that, there was one bit of praise that meant the most, and that had come from Mr. Redfern.

  She hadn’t realized until she saw him just how much his approval really meant to her. But when she saw that he had been touched by her music, she nearly burst into tears of pride and relief. She wanted him to like her. She wanted . . . well, she wanted him to fall madly in love with her and spend every waking minute of the rest of his life with her, but maybe she was asking too much. Regardless of what happened from then on out, she knew he would be a good friend and support. And he was taking her to lunch the next day.

  She finally stood up and dressed for bed, realizing that if she didn’t, she’d drift off to sleep in her wraps and become overheated. But then, once tucked under the covers, she found herself wide awake and reliving every moment of that glorious night from seeing the top of the conductor’s head bouncing around in the orchestra pit to hearing the applause for the first time. The admiration in Alice’s eyes. The approbation on Mr. Westcott’s face. And it would all happen again the following night and the following week.

  Tingles raced down her arms again—they’d been doing that a lot lately—and she snuggled deeper into her blankets. This. This was what she had dreamed of, and it was every bit as wonderful as she’d imagined. And if for some reason this was the only time she ever stepped foot on stage, she’d have these memories forever, and she would cherish them as the blessing they were.

  For just a small moment, she allowed herself to think of her parents. They had died from an illness when she was five years old, so her recollections of them were somewhat vague. She pictured her mother singing as she kneaded bread in the kitchen, and her father telling stories as he whittled by the fireplace. She felt the sensation of being whisked through the air as her father grasped her h
ands and twirled around and around, her feet flying, spinning until they both collapsed on the grass, laughing.

  She wiped tears off her cheeks as she thought of them. They had been forced to live in humble circumstances, but she had been loved. She knew that clear to the middle of her soul. When she went to live with her aunt, she suddenly had enough clothing to wear and enough food to eat, but the love had been taken away, and she would gladly have returned to her shabby little house if given the chance. There were things that could not be replaced with money.

  If her parents had only been able to hear her sing that night …

  Her heart warmed, and she had the thought that yes, perhaps they had heard it. She didn’t know for certain what she believed about passing on and whether those who had gone ahead were aware of those they’d left behind, but she felt comforted, and she was willing to hang on to that sensation. She carried it with her as she went to sleep, warmer than any blanket.

  ***

  Miss Brown entered the bookstore precisely at noon the next day, and Tobias grinned when he saw her. “Happy Saturday,” he greeted her. “Are you ready for lunch?”

  “I’m very ready. I’m afraid I slept late, so this will be breakfast and lunch for me. Then I need to get down to the theater to prepare for tonight.”

  “I’m not surprised you slept late. Last night must have been exhausting.” Tobias locked the door to the shop, put the key in his pocket, and offered his arm to Miss Brown. “Have you eaten at the Iron Skillet?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve only eaten at the Hearth and Home—once with you and once with Millie and her husband’s family.”

  “Then I hereby volunteer to take you on a tour of all the eating establishments in town.”

  “You want to take me to all the eating establishments? Not on the same day, I hope. I need to be able to fit in my costumes.”

  “No, I figure it will take us a few weeks at least to visit them all. That is, if you can stand the thought of spending a few weeks in my company.” He held his breath as he waited for her response.

  “I’m sure I’ll endure it somehow.” She flashed him a smile, and he grinned in return. So, she liked him—at least a little bit. He’d take that.

  When they reached the Iron Skillet, they were seated by a waitress he’d never noticed around town before. She introduced herself as Catherine as she handed them menus.

  “Are you new in Creede, Catherine?” Tobias asked.

  “I just got here on the train yesterday. Ivy’s my cousin, and she asked me to come and bring some friends.”

  Tobias had met Ivy—she was the waitress who usually served him when he came here. “Oh? How many cousins?”

  “I have three. One of them works here with me and Ivy, and the other two got jobs at a restaurant across town.”

  Four new young women in Creede. Tobias blinked as he recalled what Miss Chapel had said about ladies on their way to town. She’d been right. Well, of course she’d been right—she knew things no one else did. Still, it was startling to see it happening right before his eyes.

  He and Miss Brown placed their orders, then settled back to wait for their food. “I’m sorely tempted to come to the theater again tonight,” he said just to see her reaction.

  “Oh, I’m not expecting you to do that,” she replied. “Once is enough, don’t you think?”

  “No. I don’t think it ever could be.” He hadn’t meant for his comment to sound so serious, but it did, and she blushed.

  If he hadn’t already been falling for her, that would have done him in.

  “Here’s your pot of tea,” Catherine said, setting it on the table between them and breaking the spell of the moment. “I’ll be back with your food in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Brown said, not taking her eyes off Tobias as she spoke. He wasn’t sure if she was thanking the waitress or him. And it didn’t really matter because of the warmth that was passing between them.

  He laid his hand, palm up, on the table and left it there, wondering what she would do. After a moment, she slid her hand into his, and the warmth in his chest spread from his fingers all the way up his arm. He wanted to say something, but for the first time since he’d met her, he was speechless. He needed the right words to tell her everything he was feeling, but he wasn’t sure they even existed. How could a person take the sum total of all their emotions and condense them into a mere sentence or two?

  That must be why Shakespeare had written one hundred and fifty-four sonnets. One just wasn’t enough.

  He reluctantly let go of Louisa’s hand as Catherine approached the table with a tray of food. “Here you are,” she said, setting their plates in front of them and then adding a bowl of bread to the center. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Pie,” Miss Brown said. “Apple pie.”

  “I’ll bring that out in a few minutes.” With a swirl of skirts, Catherine walked off again, and Tobias swallowed.

  “I’ve seen some remarkable things in my life, Miss Brown, and I’d thought I’d gotten to the point where I could no longer be surprised, but I was wrong. Tell me. How is it that you’re so completely wonderful?”

  She looked startled. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You’re wonderful. Every particle of you. And I’m trying to figure out how it’s possible.”

  She smiled and looked down at the table. “I think you’re just glad I asked for pie.”

  “Of course I’m glad about the pie. I’m touched and honored that you remembered my favorite kind and thought to order it.” He reached for her hand again, and this time, she didn’t hesitate. “Miss Brown, I didn’t originally plan to have this conversation here in the middle of a restaurant, but I can’t wait any longer. I’m fascinated by you. I’m intrigued by you. I want to know you better. I don’t know how these things are done anymore because it’s been so long since I considered it, but I’d very much like to court you. If you want. If you’re not too busy.”

  “Truth be told, I’m very busy,” she replied, and his heart sank. “Why, at this very moment, I’m having lunch with an admirer, and we’re going to share some apple pie. After that, he’s going to walk me to the theater, and then tomorrow, he’s going to take me for a drive after church. So you see, I’m swamped.”

  He loved the little smile that was playing on the corners of her mouth. “That does sound like a rather full schedule,” he replied. “I presume that you’re also not free on Monday because he’ll be taking you to dinner.”

  “You’ve guessed it correctly. I’m sorry, Mr. Redfern, but you’re completely out of luck.”

  He stroked her knuckles with his thumb, wondering who had first invented holding hands. They were a genius, whoever it was.

  “There is one thing you can do for me, though,” she said.

  “Anything. I remain your devoted slave.”

  She nodded at the table. “I’m quite hungry, and I’m right-handed. I must ask that you either take possession of my left hand instead, or that you give me leave to eat entirely unfettered.”

  He chuckled and let go. “I’m sorry. I was enjoying the moment and wasn’t thinking.”

  “Well, I was enjoying the moment too, but if I don’t eat something soon, I’m likely to fall over in the center of the table and land in the bread. That would probably ruin everything, don’t you think?”

  “It would.” He smiled, but then a thought struck him, and he sat back and studied her. “Miss Brown, are you frequently dizzy?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose so. I’ve always noticed that strong emotion makes me lightheaded. I just assumed it was because I’m female and we’re supposed to come down with the vapors on a regular basis.” She chuckled, then said, “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve noticed that you mention feeling dizzy or nauseated quite often, and I can’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t see a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” She looked thoughtful. “I suppose I could. This has been going on for so long, I assum
ed it was part of who I am.”

  “JT Thomas is our doctor here in Creede and the surrounding areas, and he’s a good man. Hannah Wheeler, the wife of our local marshal, helps him out quite a bit, especially if the complaints are of a female nature.” He wondered if saying that would embarrass her, but she didn’t seem to bat an eyelash, so he decided not to worry about it. “She’s also the owner of a very unusual rooster.”

  “Oh? How is this rooster unusual?”

  Tobias didn’t think he should reveal quite everything he knew about Bob. “He acts as somewhat of a bodyguard. He’s also interested in poetry. He came to my class Thursday night.”

  “He did?” Then her eyes grew wide. “I’m so sorry—I haven’t even asked how your class went. Did many people come?”

  “There was a decent turnout, but they all came a little late, including the rooster. For a few minutes, I thought the whole thing would be a failure.”

  “And that would have been a shame. I think it’s a marvelous idea—you should start up something similar for the ladies. That is, if you’re determined to keep the two groups separate.”

  Considering that his charge was to prepare the men for proper courtship, Tobias didn’t think it was a good idea to put both men and women in the same room, but he wouldn’t be opposed to a second class. “I’d need some help if I were to start a ladies’ group. I’m not sure if you noticed this, but I’m not a lady.”

  She smirked. “So, this is your roundabout way of asking me to be your assistant? Very well, I accept. But I’ll require a great deal of compensation.”

  “You will?”

  “Yes. I insist on being taken for drives. Particularly tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’m sure I can make that work.”

  They finished eating, and Tobias walked up to the counter to pay. He pocketed his change, then motioned to the door. “I believe I’m walking you to the theater now?”

 

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