“You’ve got that right,” Seth said, tightening his hold on Nancy to an almost painful point.
“Well then, the loss is mine,” Gerome said, tipping his hat as he bowed. As he straightened, Nancy noticed a change in his demeanor. “By the way, Mr. Carpenter, I have some work that you might be able to help me with.”
“Legal work?” Seth asked.
“Yes. I wonder if you would like to stop by my place this week. It’s time-consuming work, but I would pay you well.”
“You’ll need to speak with John Lincoln about it. Come to the office and make an appointment with him. He’ll know better whether we have time for your needs.”
“I thought perhaps you might earn this money for yourself on the side.” Gerome grinned. “I’m sure you could use the extra money.”
Seth frowned. “I work for John. I wouldn’t consider doing something behind his back or on the side. He’s a good man, Berkshire—an honorable and fair man. Talk to him about your needs, and I’m sure he’ll give you a fair deal.”
Nancy thought Gerome looked insulted. His dark eyes seemed to grow even blacker, and his face took on a ruddy hue. She looked at Gabe, who watched Gerome as he might a wild animal. She could tell he was sizing him up, determining how big of a threat he might pose. The last thing she wanted was for a fight to break out.
“I must have some of those pastries,” she said, smiling at Seth. “Would you mind if we get in line?”
Seth hesitated only a moment. “I’m at your command.” He gave her a smile and loosened his hold on her arm a bit.
“Good day, Mr. Berkshire,” Nancy said and all but pulled Seth toward the line. “Come on, Gabe, you have to try these. They’re amazing.”
It wasn’t until after they’d purchased their baked goods and found a table where they could sit and sample their fare that anyone spoke again.
“I wanted to punch that guy in the nose,” Gabe said, popping an entire kolaczki in his mouth.
“Mr. Berkshire has that effect on people.” Nancy hated to admit even that much, for fear it would start them back into ill feelings and ruin the day. “But thankfully we don’t have to deal with him anymore. I’m so glad the day has turned nice.”
Everyone glanced overhead. There were still clouds in the sky, but the sun was shining, and the rain was holding off.
“I heard there is to be a Founding Fathers play at eleven. What say we make our way to that?” Clementine suggested. “One of my friends is playing George Washington.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Nancy smiled and sampled her pastry. It was just as good as she remembered, like a cookie that had been wrapped around its fruit filling. “I have to figure out how to make these. I don’t think the filling will be all that difficult, but the dough is something special.”
“I’ll bet we can get someone to share the recipe,” Clementine murmured between bites. “I’d like to be able to make these as well. Maybe once you learn, you can teach me too.”
Nancy took another bite of the filled cookie. “Maybe one of your students this fall will be of Polish or Czech descent, and his mother would be willing to teach us both.”
“We can only hope,” Clementine said, snatching another cookie. “I know this will probably spoil my lunch, but they’re so good.”
The day passed much too quickly. They enjoyed the Founding Fathers play and then watched another performance by schoolchildren regarding the founding of Oregon. Lunch was a veritable feast of roasted pig, sweet baked beans, and so many other foods that Nancy lost track. By the time evening rolled around, she was more than happy to return to the house.
“Are you sure you two don’t want to stay and dance?” Gabe asked. “I’m not much into it myself, but I don’t want it said I was the cause of you gals not getting to enjoy yourselves.”
“No. I’m supposed to be in mourning, remember?” Nancy’s feet also hurt from spending all day walking around the park.
“And my feet hurt,” Clementine declared as if reading Nancy’s thoughts. “I shouldn’t have worn these boots. They always did pinch, and now I’ve probably got a blister.”
“Put vinegar on it,” Gabe said, laughing. “That’s what our ma would say.”
They all laughed and continued toward Nancy’s boardinghouse. It was nearly dark by the time they reached it, and the warm glow of light emanating from the house made a cheery welcome.
“Would you two like to come in for coffee?” Nancy let Seth help her up the steps while she clutched a handful of her skirt.
“None for me,” Gabe said. “Even though it’s Saturday tomorrow, I have to be down at the mill, working. We’ve got to get a big shipment of finished lumber down to California. After that, I’m headed home, so I doubt I’ll see you again on this trip, sis.”
“And I’m looking forward to my bed and a long sleep,” Seth said with a grin. He dropped his hold on Nancy’s arm when they reached the door. “I’m just going to bid you good night. Thank you for the wonderful day.”
“That’s what I was about to say.” Nancy opened the front door. “I had a splendid time and am very glad I let you talk me into going.”
“It was fun,” Clementine chimed in. “I didn’t realize just how delightful your brother could be.”
“Of course I’m delightful. I’m also charming, witty, and dashingly handsome,” Gabe added with a laugh.
“That he is,” Nancy said, shaking her head. She kissed Gabe on the cheek.
“Hey, what about me?” Seth said, sounding pitiful.
Nancy surprised herself and him by going to him and repeating the gesture. She placed the briefest of kisses on his cheek, then stepped back with a smile. “Thank you as well.”
Seth said nothing more, and Nancy felt a little overcome by her actions and the day. She had the strangest feeling of awakening from a dream. It was as if she’d been sleeping for years—dead to the world—and now she was coming back to life. She could almost feel the blood coursing through her veins.
“Good night,” she whispered, then hurried into the house.
Without bothering to see if the ladies were in the front room, Nancy made a dash for her first-floor bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She thought about the day and how much fun she’d had. She hadn’t enjoyed herself that much in forever. She’d never had fun like that with Albert. He wasn’t one to enjoy such things, and business always kept him much too busy.
The thought of Albert and his business affairs caused her to go to the bedside table where she’d left his river journal. Picking it up, Nancy thumbed through to the pages of suspicious drawings. She paused on the drawing that looked familiar. She was certain it had to be that place they used to go. Tomorrow was Saturday. Maybe if she got her work done in time, she would saddle the horse and slip off to investigate.
“Your sister is quickly charming her way to my heart.”
“I think you’re completely gone on her,” Gabe replied as they walked back to Seth’s apartment.
“I suppose it would be foolish to say otherwise. She does have a way about her that I can’t deny is extremely attractive.”
“I think you two work well together,” Gabe said. “I think she needs a man like you.”
“I do too,” Seth replied, laughing. “I never would have figured that scrawny, sad-faced little girl would be the woman I’d one day want to marry.”
“Are you sure about it now?”
“Gettin’ surer every day.” Seth pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets. “I never gave too much thought to settling down. I mean, I was never against the idea, but there was always my schooling or work. I was determined to be finished with school and secure in my job before I even bought a place to live.”
“Well, you can’t get much more secure than working toward a partnership,” Gabe countered. “I’d say you’re well enough established to take on a wife and family.”
“And you wouldn’t mind having me as a brother?” Seth asked, grinning.
“I can�
�t think of anyone I’d rather have. That Pritchard fella wasn’t worth the spit it would take to wet a stamp.”
Seth paused to make sure his voice still sounded natural. “Did you know him well?”
“No. He wasn’t inclined to let any of us know him very well,” Gabe admitted. “He wanted nothing to do with the family. Pa and I both tried to reach out to him—to make him feel welcome. None of us wanted Nancy to marry him, but once the deed was done, we didn’t want to do anything to come between them. We always tried to extend friendship, but Pritchard wasn’t interested. He told us to mind our own business and left it at that. He didn’t want Nancy having much to do with any of us.”
“Perhaps he was afraid of someone finding out about his liquor and weapons business.” Seth was surprised to find they’d already reached his apartment. He fished out his key and shook his head. “One thing is certain. Albert Pritchard was a man of secrets.”
Gabe shrugged. “I suppose we all have them.”
Seth frowned and thought of his reason for coming to Portland in the first place. Investigating Albert and Nancy Pritchard. Theirs had only been names on a page until Seth realized who Nancy truly was. Now that he knew, how was he ever going to explain his position to her?
Secrets indeed.
Chapter 14
They’ve written about Mr. Berkshire’s speech in the newspaper,” Bedelia announced at breakfast Sunday morning. “Did any of you attend on the Fourth?”
Nancy shook her head and passed a bowl of fried potatoes and onions. “I had no desire to listen to him drone on and on about his hatred of people of color. You would think he had been personally harmed by the emancipation of slaves.” She sipped her coffee.
“I suppose it’s not that surprising that so many hate other kinds of people,” Mimi said, her fork halfway to her lips. “I find that folks are often afraid of things or people or even places that are unfamiliar. I believe if white people took time to get to know the black population, or the Indians or Chinese, they might change their tunes.”
“I agree. One summer when I was about fifteen, I went to one of the Indian reservations to help my aunt and uncle.” Nancy remembered it fondly. “I got to know some of the Indian women and children and learned about their history and their culture. It was fascinating.”
“You lived with the heathens?” Bedelia asked, her voice a mix of disapproval and awe.
“Not exactly. I stayed with my aunt and uncle and cousins. They minister to the Indians and teach school. They have always had a love of all people, and I really admire that. I wish I could say I had always felt the same, but as Mimi mentioned, I suppose fear kept my heart guarded until I got to know them myself.”
“Well, there are hardly enough black people in Portland to worry over. Yet Mr. Berkshire would see them all rounded up, severely whipped, and then put on a train for parts unknown,” Clementine said, reaching for another biscuit. “The article said he spoke in a particularly distasteful manner about the integration of black children into white schools. He believes the black children would corrupt the thinking of the whites.”
“Corrupt it? In what way?” Mimi asked.
Clementine shrugged. “I suppose in every way. Mr. Berkshire said black people are lazy because they aren’t working. Yet he doesn’t encourage white people to hire them. In fact, he suggests it be made an illegal offense to hire black people or Indians for positions white men can do. He truly doesn’t see anyone but whites as deserving of jobs and education.”
“I read that it was illegal to educate black slaves,” Mimi said.
“It was in Georgia,” Mrs. Weaver announced as she entered the room. “I apologize for being late.” She looked at Nancy and nodded.
“You mustn’t fret, Mrs. Weaver. We do not stand on ceremony here. Please have a seat.”
Nancy was glad Mrs. Weaver had decided to join them. She had told Nancy the day before that she wanted to attend church, and Nancy had invited her to come along with her and Clementine and Mimi. Mrs. Weaver had admitted that she hoped to do exactly that. It was a show of trust, Nancy thought, that the old woman had become more social, and Nancy intended to do whatever she could to promote it. The fact that she had come to join them for breakfast was just another encouraging moment.
“You were saying that it was illegal to educate slaves,” Bedelia reminded Mrs. Weaver.
“Yes.” The old woman nodded, and her lacy cap bobbed. “But I didn’t care to be a stickler for the law. If one of the black children showed interest, I taught them the alphabet. I even taught one child to read. My mother was all for such endeavors. She thought it foolish to keep people ignorant. She was of the strong opinion that knowledge equaled power.”
“But would that not have been the precise reason white people refrained from educating their slaves?” Bedelia asked. “They would not want them having any power.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right on that account,” Mrs. Weaver replied.
“Mr. Berkshire believes all blacks should be sent back to Africa—the land of their origin—yet never accounts for the fact that most were born right here in the United States and know nothing of their African ancestry or culture,” Mimi threw in. “I can’t imagine if someone suggested I go back to Germany where my ancestors were born. I can’t speak German and certainly have no idea where I would go or what I would do.”
“Not only that, but Seth and I were discussing the fact that many black people aren’t even from Africa. How would you ever figure out where to send them?” Clementine asked no one in particular.
“I don’t believe the blacks should be forced from Oregon,” Bedelia interjected. “However, I can well imagine they’d have little to do with white people. They don’t understand our culture, just as we don’t understand theirs. It would be better for them to remain in their own communities amongst their own people. Like the Indians. Perhaps there could be a black reservation.”
“Rather than take time to learn about one another?” Mimi questioned.
“Well, we would hardly have any reason to learn, would we? It isn’t like we will ever be able to socialize together.”
For a moment everyone looked at Bedelia.
“But why not?” Nancy asked.
Bedelia frowned. “Because we’re not alike. We have nothing in common.”
“Surely we have in common the things of life itself. Our families, homes, fears, and dreams,” Nancy reasoned.
“I believe friendships are possible,” Mrs. Weaver interjected. “But it is true that few people are accepting of such things.”
The conversation dried up at that point, and it wasn’t until the clock chimed eight that anyone seemed compelled to do anything but eat.
“I need to get to church early,” Clementine said, dabbing her mouth and then setting her napkin aside. “I’m teaching Sunday School this morning.”
“I am too.” Mimi got to her feet. “I’ll walk with you.”
Clementine got up and grabbed her dishes. On Sundays everyone helped clear off the table and put the dishes in the sink to soak. Mimi followed suit, and together they headed for the kitchen.
Bedelia took a final sip from her teacup, then nodded at Cornelia. “Come, sister. We should be on our way as well.”
That left Nancy and Mrs. Weaver to finish breakfast. Nancy smiled at the older woman. “Since it’s raining, I thought we’d take the buggy.” She had decided to take the buggy rain or shine in order to accommodate Mrs. Weaver’s frailty.
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Pritchard.”
“I want you to call me Nancy.” She smiled. “I’d like us to be friends.”
Mrs. Weaver nodded. “I feel that we are. In fact, I have felt most welcome here.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m afraid I haven’t always been the most congenial.”
“But of course not. You’re a new widow and so very young. I can’t imagine losing my husband at your age. It was hard enough as an old woman.”
“I would think
that would make it all the harder. After all, you had a lifetime of memories together.”
Mrs. Weaver nodded. “And we were so very happy. My Robert and I fell in love when I was just thirteen and he fifteen. We were inseparable.” Her eyes dampened. “The days are quite lonely without him, and but for—” She stopped abruptly. “Oh goodness, how I do ramble on.” She finished her biscuit, then struggled to her feet. “Do we still plan to leave at nine?”
Nancy could see the old woman was rather flustered. Perhaps she wasn’t yet ready to speak about her dead husband. “Yes. Nine. I’ll bring the buggy around front.”
Mrs. Weaver hurried from the room without gathering her dishes. Nancy didn’t mind, however. This was only the second time she’d joined them on a Sunday, and she had probably forgotten the procedure the others had started.
Nancy got to her feet and collected the dirty plates. She couldn’t help but think about the conversation they’d shared at breakfast. People like Gerome were so hateful toward the Indians, blacks, Chinese, and anyone else who wasn’t white. Albert had been the same way, and her husband’s prejudices made her angry. Why did he hate the Indians so much? Her own family had actually suffered at the hands of Indians, yet instead of hating, her family held great love for them. Her father still made journeys to see his old friend Sam Two Moons, a Nez Perce who lived with his family in Canada. Her uncle Adam was even part Cherokee, although no one talked about it in public. There were all sorts of laws against races intermarrying, and Aunt Mercy had no Indian blood. Her marriage to Adam might be questioned should anyone realize his heritage.
With the table cleared, Nancy went to her room to finish dressing for church. She chose a gown of darkest green trimmed in black. She wore her black mourning hat but removed the veil. Had anyone seen her at the Fourth of July celebration, they might think her hypocritical to come to church draped in a mourning veil. Besides, she didn’t feel like mourning. With each passing day, Nancy felt less and less given to dwell on the past and her loss. Her new walk with God had given her much to think about, and while she couldn’t say she felt completely certain of His path for her, Nancy felt so much better just for having cleared the air, so to speak.
Secrets of My Heart Page 14
