They hesitated for a moment, then Emmeline raised her hand and knocked three times on the white front door. There was a flurry of movement inside the house.
“I’ll get it!”
“It’s my turn!”
The door was pulled open, and Emmeline was faced with two, blurry little girls. Both of them looked as though they had spatters of freckles over their face, but while one was blonde with skin the color of tea and cream, the other’s hair was as red as a ripe cherry and her skin was fair.
“Hello,” said the one with hair the color of watered-down whiskey.
“Who are you?” said the other.
“I am Mrs. Aldridge,” said Emmeline, bending low so that she was on a level with the two girls. “Are your mothers and fathers here?”
The two girls looked at one another and Emmeline noticed that the one with red hair was slightly taller. She appeared to be just a few years older. She nodded at the younger of the two and Emmeline watched her dirty-blonde curls tear away into the house.
“What is your name?” Emmeline asked. The little red-head was eyeing them suspiciously.
“Evangeline Leah-May Drexel,” she responded, dropping promptly into the cutest curtsy Emmeline had ever seen. “But everyone calls me Angie.”
“Well, Angie, how would you like to come to school again tomorrow?”
Instead of looking enthusiastic about the idea, Angie dropped her eyes. “Momma says that there won’t be anymore school for a while. Miss Feathers went up to be with God in heaven.” Her little voice plucked at Emmeline’s heart strings.
“Do you miss her?”
Angie looked up, and her nose wrinkled. “Not really. She sometimes hit my hands with her ruler. But I did like science very much. That was fun. I like mixing things.”
Emmeline made a face. “Well,” she said sternly. “What if I said that I came here to be your new teacher, and that I promise not to hit your hands with my ruler.”
The little girl’s expression brightened. “Will we do science?”
Emmeline nodded and Angie turned suddenly and darted back into the house, leaving the door open wide. They could hear her shouting for her mother.
A few moments later, the little girl with blonde hair returned with a woman on her heels. “Good evening,” she said kindly. She was only a few inches shorter than Emmeline, which was saying something. Her limbs were long and willowy, and her hair was the exact same shade of the little girl that was bouncing on her heels beside her.
“Hello,” Emmeline said. “I hate to interrupt your evening. I hope you will forgive me. I am Mrs. Aldridge.” She waited a moment to see if the woman would tell Emmeline her own name, but when she continued to look politely puzzled, Emmeline barreled on. “I shall be… taking over Miss Feather’s previous classes. We’ll be doing a meet and greet tomorrow afternoon at the schoolhouse at one o’clock and I’d rather hoped you and your children would join us.
The woman’s face broke into a delighted smile that showed very white, even teeth. “You’re starting up the school again?”
“That is my intention, yes.”
The little girl beside the woman began bouncing so fast that she was nothing more than a vibrating haze to Emmeline in her white cotton dress. She gave a little squeak of excitement and then ran off down the hall. The woman shook her head. “The children are in dire need of more stimulating company,” she said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come in?”
Emmeline stepped into a foyer that reminded her all at once of a china shop and a bakery. The smell drifting from the other room was intoxicating. There was a rather fine burgundy carpet lining the entryway, and for a moment, Emmeline could not decide whether it was made to be trodden on or not, but when the blonde-haired woman stepped onto it, she decided to follow her lead.
“I am Dianna Brittler, by the way. Forgive my lack of introduction. You are, I take it, Mr. Aldridge.” Her sharp eyes skated over Lawson. “We’ve met before. You… Don’t you own the pharmacy in town?”
Lawson was staring up at the ceiling, where a crystal chandelier was dangling. Its lowest gems were swaying gently from side to side in the breeze from the open door. Emmeline nudged him as surreptitiously as possible. “Wha—oh yes! Yes. I do own the pharmacy.”
“My husband speaks most highly of you,” Dianna stated, leading them into a room off the foyer. “He says you’re an excellent healer.”
“That would be Shiye?” Lawson looked to Dianna Brittler for confirmation. “He’s only come in a handful of times… Seems like a decent fellow.”
Dianna laughed and sat herself down gracefully on a floral settee. She gestured for Lawson and Emmeline to sit as well, but as they did so, a positive hoard of children rushed into the room.
One of them, a little boy of approximately five years old with jet black hair, stood on his toes to whisper into Dianna’s ear while the rest stood frozen in the doorway, all staring at Emmeline.
Whatever the child said into her ear made Dianna laugh. “Yes, this nice lady is going to be your new teacher,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you say hello to her, Jeremy?”
The other children crowded around Emmeline at these words, but Jeremy was the first to stick out his pudgy little hand. He had a round face and dark eyes that looked like little molten pools of chocolate to Emmeline. “Jeremy Thomas Black,” he lisped in a decisive little voice. “If you’re my teather, I will like you.”
Emmeline giggled. “I am sure we will get along swell, Mr. Black.”
But the others wouldn’t let Jeremy keep Emmeline to himself.
“I’m Margaret,” said another little blonde girl. She had just as many freckles as red-haired Angie and the same pointed nose. In fact, when Emmeline looked around, she found that most of the children had some feature that was similar to another’s. Marie, who was nearing her teen years by the look of her, sat down beside Emmeline on the settee. Rose, who was the only dark-skinned child among them all, sat beside her. They had the same high, elegant cheekbones as Dianna.
Thomas and Fredrick, who were also older, introduced themselves one after the other. Emmeline thought they had the same dark eyes, although it was very hard to tell with her vision as it was.
She tried to keep all their names straight as she counted. “Tell me,” she laughed over the heads of the children. “Which are yours?”
Dianna was watching the children crowd around Emmeline with an air of wholehearted amusement. She pointed to Rose and then to the little girl who had answered the door with Angie, but had yet to tell Emmeline her name. “Rose and Lavender. They’re both mine.”
Of course. She had known Rose must belong to Dianna by her caramel-colored skin. Lavender was not quite as fair as her mother, but nor was she as dark-skinned as her sister. Her blonde hair would have disguised her heritage, were it not for her wide lips and nose. She was clearly part Indian, but she had the most beautiful blue eyes that Emmeline had ever seen.
“Those three are mine!” called a cheerful voice from the doorway. A shorter woman, also blonde, made her way into the room to sit on the settee beside Dianna. “Sarah-Jane,” she announced to Emmeline over the rush and babble of the children around her. “Marie, Thomas and Fredrick belong to me.”
Two more women entered the room then as Emmeline looked around. Noelle bent forward to hug Emmeline where she sat on the settee. “Your wedding was beautiful. You looked positively stunning.”
“That reminds me,” murmured Emmeline, squeezing Noelle’s fingers. “I brought back your dress. Thank you for lending it to me. Thank you for everything. You helped make that day truly special for us.”
Noelle winked. “If I had known sooner, I would have had time to bake you a wedding cake.”
Emmeline laughed as the last of the Brittler sisters stepped forward. Her expression was haughtier than the rest, but when she smiled down at Emmeline, her smile was genuine. Emmeline stood up to shake the hand the woman offered her. “Charlotte Drexel,” she said. “I would ask wh
o you are, but I have already been informed six or seven times!”
Emmeline laughed with the sisters, and Lawson, who looked as though he felt distinctly out of place amongst all of these women and children said, “Er… Are your husbands out and about?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is my husband, Lawson Aldridge.” Husband. It felt very odd to introduce him as such, but oddly comforting as well. Lawson stood and shook each of the women’s hands in turn.
“Kenneth should be around here somewhere,” Noelle shrugged, glancing toward the tall windows at the other end of the room.
“Well, we won’t keep you.” Emmeline straightened and turned to gather her bag into her arms. “I just wanted to inform you ladies that I will be hosting a meet and greet at the schoolhouse tomorrow at one o’clock. The following day, classes will resume once more, starting at seven in the morning.”
“Excellent,” breathed Rose, and Emmeline winked at her.
“Thank you for stopping by, Mr. and Mrs. Aldridge. We shall all look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Noelle walked them to the door, linking her arm in Emmeline’s. “You did not take much of a honeymoon,” she whispered in her ear as they went. “Best make the most of tonight!”
Emmeline swatted her new friend’s hand. “For shame,” she hissed back. “Ladies don’t speak of such things.”
“Oh trust me,” Noelle opened the door with a wink and murmured under her breath so that Lawson could not hear, “they do.”
Chapter Eight
Lawson gripped Emmeline’s hand tightly as they retrieved their lantern from the front porch and made their way down the steep hill that led back into town.
At the base of the hills below them, little golden lights were shimmering in windows. Here and there, in the occasional light of the full moon overhead, they could see smoke furling up from a handful of chimney pieces. Around them, insects were chirping in the trees and undergrowth.
His thoughts were full of Emmeline’s smile and of the patient air she had had with each of the enthusiastic Brittler children. She had been something of a wonder, listening to each voice as they tumbled one over the other, responding with indulgent smiles and tolerant words.
She will be a wonderful mother someday, he thought wryly. Immediately, as though she had sensed his thoughts, his wife’s voice floated over to him on the night air. “How do you feel about children, Lawson?” she asked, and Lawson grinned.
He tried to make out her expression in the swing of the lantern light. “I like them right enough,” he answered with a shrug. “Why?”
Emmeline stumbled then, and he caught her as she nearly fell. “I’m sorry!”
“It’s all right,” he said gently. “There’s no need to apologize.” They were nearing the street onto which they would turn towards their home. “How do you feel about children?” He thought he knew the answer, but her response caught him off guard.
As a cloud shifted overhead, a bright shaft of moonlight slid over the gravel track ahead of them. “I—I don’t want to have children, Lawson.”
He froze mid-step, so that his boot thudded to the ground with a loud crunching noise. He could not have heard her correctly. “You don’t want children?” Lawson turned to stare at Emmeline in amazement. “But you seem to love them!”
His eyes flew over her face, ghostly pale and ethereally beautiful in the moonlight. Her hazel eyes seemed to have taken on the colors of the shadowy night, but she was not looking at him. She had kept striding along... as though she had not just dropped a rather large stick of dynamite on any future they might have been planning together.
“I do love them,” she whispered quietly, and Lawson thought he heard his wife give a little sniff. It seemed as though her revelation was something of a sore spot for discussion.
He took three quick strides to catch up to her side. “But I don’t understand...”
“We can adopt,” she interrupted. “I would love to give a child in need a place to call home. I would love—” she sighed. “To be a mother. But I will not have a child of my own. I could not... I will not...” Emmeline broke off, and Lawson saw that she had tears sparkling in her eyes.
He stopped once more and took hold of her shoulders. She turned toward Lawson with a reluctance that bordered on indifference. “I don’t understand,” he repeated, his voice low to disguise his growing ire. What was the matter with her? Didn’t all women want children? How could she act as though they brought her so much joy and not want any of her own?
She would not look at him. It was so difficult to try and understand what she was thinking when she would not meet his gaze. Her eyes were staring at some point just over his shoulder. She did not respond.
“Please. I need to understand... Are you... are you unable?”
Emmeline bit her lip.
He could feel the tension in her shoulders. They were rising toward her ears, and she was tucking her arms over her chest, as though she was building a wall to keep him at bay. He could almost see her closing a door between them, so that he could not catch a glimpse into the room she occupied beyond. He sensed it was a private space, somewhere that a man she had only known for two days would not be allowed in for some time.
He sighed, and let his hands drop from her shoulders. It cost him everything he had to reach for her hand and give her a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps... It is a discussion for another day.”
She doesn’t want children. No children of your own. No little boy with blue eyes and dark hair. He glanced at Emmeline. No little girl with blonde curls and warm hazel eyes like sunlight. He would not have thought that the idea would make him so miserable. Of course, Emmeline was more than correct. There were plenty of little children in orphanages in and around Wyoming. Little children that would flourish in a loving home, beneath Emmeline’s teaching and patient smiles.
“Thank you.”
Lawson was so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly missed Emmeline’s words as he shoved open the gate that led to their home. He opened his mouth to respond, but she was already making her way ahead of him, nervously avoiding the excitable dogs that darted down the front porch steps to greet them.
Lawson watched her go, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Was it possible to feel so much for a woman in such a short space of time? Was it possible they could be happy together, even if they clearly wanted very different things? Did it really matter to him, if she never wanted children of their own?
Lawson shrugged to himself and shut the garden gate behind him, but as he moved up the front walk and made his way into the house after Emmeline, a small voice whispered an obstinate “Yes,” in the back of his mind. He pushed away the thought, tucking it deep down into the depths of his overwrought brain. He stepped into the sitting room, but Emmeline was already padding softly down the hall.
Lawson eyed his makeshift bed on the sofa cushions, and the telltale aches in his back from the uncomfortable night before seemed to give a low throb. He glanced after Emmeline, wondering if he dared... but the quiet click of the latch on his bedroom door might as well have been the sound of six bolts and a key turning in the lock.
He shook his head and sighed, reaching both hands up to the ceiling and listening to his back give several loud pops. By the look of things, they were a long way off from having to worry about children at all.
In the following week, Lawson felt as though he saw very little of his wife. She was so busy at the schoolhouse, making lesson plans and helping the children acclimate to her teaching methods, that she hardly seemed to have any time for him at all. He tried to tell himself that being a teacher was a difficult task and that his wife had much to accomplish in the first few days in her new position... but as the days stretched, he started to suspect her of an ulterior motive.
She began staying later and later at the schoolhouse, and arising earlier than need be to depart the house before he awoke. There was no doubt about it. His wife was avoiding him. Had he been insane to think sh
e might feel something for him? Had he imagined the feeling of hope and possibility that had existed between them from their very first meeting?
One night, after a solitary supper that Emmeline had left on a plate for him beside the stovetop, Lawson had had enough. He hadn’t married the woman so that he could go on just as he always had. He’d wanted a companion, and he was going to have one, whether she liked it or not.
He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and made his way across town to the schoolhouse, where he wasn’t surprised to see the windows all aglow. It was evening time. The sky overhead was a light navy, and a handful of stars were peering questioningly down at him, as though waiting to see what he was about to do.
Lawson was deliberating, his mind skating over words he had sulked over for days. They were angry words, most of them. He was furious that she had decided to abandon him after one—albeit rather major—disagreement. What had he done to deserve such treatment? It was she who had brought up the subject of children, not him. A few days in his presence and she had already given him up as a bad job? How was that fair? How?
He wasn’t even going to knock on the schoolhouse door. He was going to march right in there and give her a piece of his mind, all right. She was going to listen, and then she was going to be a proper wife to him. This was just silly! They didn’t even have a marriage to build on, they were merely housemates. That wasn’t what he had wanted, no sir!
Lawson was stomping across the school yard, his temper foul, when he happened to glance up at the golden glow of light that was streaming from the window beside the door. He saw Emmeline, sitting there, and... then he stopped. She was crying. He could see her clearly through the glass. Her slender shoulders were hunched over the teacher’s desk in the front corner of the room and they were shaking with the force of her sobs. Tears were glistening on her pale cheeks, dropping rapidly onto the stack of papers in front of her.
As he watched, she fumbled in her drawer and withdrew a handkerchief. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and stood, dragging her hand along the corner of her desk. She stopped there, and Lawson saw her chest heaving as she inhaled, as though readying herself. Then she took her left hand and drew it along the chalkboard. He saw her lips move, and realized she was counting her steps from one side of the board to the other. Her fingertips were making smooth lines over and over again in the same place. A moment later, she left the chalkboard and wandered around the edges of the room, still tracing her hands along every available surface.
Emmeline's Exile (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 5) Page 7
