“Thirty-five miles?” Alice looked dismayed. “We’ll be driving till night. And what are all those places—Aiden Lair, was it?—and the Lower Works, anyway? I thought we were going to the Tahawus Club?”
“Aye, miss, it’ll be well on dark by the time you’re gettin’ there. Some folks prefer to stay at the Lower Works for the night and then go on up in the morning, but thems weren’t my orders. Tahawus Club used to be the McIntyre Iron Works back ’fore the war—the club took over the company’s old houses. There’s the Lower Works and the Upper Works, and your folks are staying at the Upper Works. Aiden Lair’s a fancy hotel for sports on the road north.”
While he was speaking, the dirt road before them suddenly changed texture, and the horses’ hooves and the buckboard’s wheels clattered on a surface that Grace realized was wood—logs sunk into the dirt, perpendicular to the road.
“What the devil is that?” Alice exclaimed.
“Corduroy road.” Their driver didn’t bother to turn around. “Helps on the places where it gets muddy when it rains.”
“Don’t your teeth get shaken loose?” Alice asked, gritting hers.
“What teeth, miss?” His shoulders heaved, and Grace realized he was laughing.
Alice blinked at his back, then laughed too. But her smile didn’t last long. “Grace?” she said quietly.
Grace dragged her attention from the trees. “Mmm?”
“What in blazes are we doing here? Two days ago, we were in one of the most civilized places in the country. And now, we’re here. Look at it.” She lifted a hand to gesture at the tree-covered mountains ahead of them, then grabbed the frame supporting the canopy over them as the wagon lurched over a slipped log.
“You don’t like it?” Grace realized too late that it was a foolish question. After the excitement and glamour of Newport, how likely was it that Alice would be happy here? “It is beautiful, don’t you think?” she added, rather lamely.
As she expected, Alice snorted. “For about ten minutes…which ended five minutes ago. What are we going to do here? I can only take so many scenic walks before I start frothing at the mouth with boredom. And I’m sure that whatever this Tahawus Club is, it’s going to be horribly rustic and picturesque. Good God—you don’t suppose we’ll be living in tents, do you?”
“You liked sleeping in my brother’s tent when he let us use it that summer,” Grace reminded her.
“Yes, when we were what—twelve? For a night or two?” Her eyes narrowed. “You like it here, don’t you? And I thought you were wanting to have fun this summer and meet people and do exciting new things.”
Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and not from the effects of the corduroy road. She had said that, hadn’t she…and what had she ended up with? Had she had “fun” in Newport? What was Newport, compared to this?
“Excitin’s what you want, is it?” Grizzle-head spat over the side of the wagon. “‘Round here, we ain’t fond of excitement. In the woods, if things get excitin’, it means someone’s likely to get hurt, or worse.”
After that, they all remained silent until they arrived at Aiden Lair Lodge, a large, porch-wrapped building built right on the road. She and Alice got out to stretch their legs, have a quick glass of lemonade, and use the washroom while the horses were changed for the next leg of the trip.
Grace stared at herself in the mirror over the washbasin as she washed her hands. Their driver’s words echoed inside her brain: in the woods, if things get exciting, it means someone’s likely to get hurt. Well, she was excited: her eyes were bright and wide, and a faint color showed in her cheeks. Even the tendrils of hair that had escaped their pins under the brim of her hat curled exuberantly, as if ready to bounce off her scalp and into the trees. But she couldn’t think that anything would hurt her here in this wondrous place. Alice, however…poor Alice, to be longing to be back in Newport with Kit.
It was midafternoon now as they set out again, the road climbing more steadily. The sunlight had taken on a deeper, autumnal gold that lit the faint haze hanging over the valleys and touched a few maples already starting to show color on the hillsides with an extra gilding. Alice closed her eyes and somehow managed to doze sitting bolt upright, but Grace could only gaze raptly at each new vista every turn in the road gave her. The murmur of the trees that only she could hear seemed to grow louder with each passing mile.
“Likin’ it, are you?” their driver asked at one point.
The man didn’t miss much, did he? “Yes,” Grace said simply.
He nodded. “It takes some people that way—the woods. Some folks have a real feelin’ for them, even if they ain’t seen ’em before.” They resumed their silence—a companionable one now.
“I ’spect you’ll be wantin’ to walk in the woods up there by the old works,” he said after a while.
“I expect I will.” Nothing would keep her away from them.
“Well…” He hesitated. “You’ll want to be careful, when you do.”
“Are there bears up there? Or wolves?”
He shrugged. “The wolves are long gone, and the bears’re mostly fat and lazy this time of the year. Just yell at ’em iffen you meet one, and he’ll leave you alone all right. It ain’t bears I’m thinkin’ about, though.” He hesitated again. “You may not believe me, but there’s…things in the woods. Especially up by the tops of the mountains. They’ve been there a long time, prob’ly before even the Indians got here, and they’re not especially fond of you nor me.”
“I see.” Grace looked at his back thoughtfully.
“You keep your eyes open, an’ if things don’t feel good, you go on back home. Chances are it’ll be fine the next day. But you don’t want to mess with them none. I’ve heard stories.” He hunched his shoulders and fell silent.
What would he say if he knew that she was far more likely than he to sense any strange entities? “Thank you, and I will be careful,” she said.
He nodded and didn’t speak again until they drew up outside of a house in the middle of what looked like a tiny village. Another wagon was already there, probably waiting to bring them the last miles to the Tahawus Club. The sun had dropped behind a mountain to the west, but the sky still flamed with its dying light. They’d have some twilight left for the rest of the trip.
Alice yawned and stretched. “I can see why people like to stop here and continue on in the morning. I’m stiff as a board. And it’s getting chilly too.” She shivered as they climbed down from the wagon.
“Maybe we’ll have time for a cup of something hot,” Grace said. It was getting colder now that the sun was setting.
“I ’spect they might have a cup of tea for you in the house, but I wouldn’t be too long about drinkin’ it so’s not to waste daylight. ’Scuse me—” As soon as they were clear of the wagon, their driver began to lead it around the back of the house. The horses perked up, sensing dinner and a soft bed of hay.
“Goodbye,” Grace called after him. “And thank you.”
He waved one hand and disappeared from view around the corner.
“Good riddance,” muttered Alice. “I can’t believe we’ve still got another leg to go on this hellacious journey.”
The front door of the house suddenly flew open, and lamplight flowed out the doorway. A thin, boyish figure stood there, peering out at them. “Alice! Is that you?” His voice cracked.
“Ted?” Alice brightened and hurried up the porch steps. “What are you doing here?”
“Come to meet you, silly.” He came forward to greet her. “How was your trip? Is your friend with you?”
“Fine, and yes.” Alice punched him lightly in the arm. “And I’m not a silly. Show some respect for your elders, lad. How’s Father? How’s Quentin’s ear? Did you come all alone? Grace!” she called imperiously over her shoulder. “Come meet my brother!”
“Father’s not here yet. He’s in Vermont on a speaking tour, but we hope he’ll be here soon. Quentin’s fine. And I’m not quite alone,” the
boy said. Grace caught a gleam of spectacles on his face as she climbed the stairs toward them. “Anyway, they wouldn’t let us go without a driver who knows the road.”
“Us? Is Mother with you?”
“No, not Mother.” Ted grinned and stepped aside. A taller figure had come up behind him and stood outlined in the rectangle of light from the door. But even half in silhouette, there was something familiar about the set of its shoulders and the tilt of its head.
“Welcome to Tahawus, ladies,” said Kit Rookwood.
Chapter Ten
“Kit!” Alice shrieked and launched herself across the porch toward him.
He took a quick step backwards so that she could only catch at the lapels of his jacket rather than throwing her arms around his neck, as Grace was sure she’d intended to. “Hello, Miss Roosevelt—er, Alice.” He glanced at Ted, but Alice didn’t seem to notice.
“I can’t believe you’re— Oh, Kit, I was furious that you didn’t come to say goodbye to me in Newport!” Her voice trembled. “But this is why, isn’t it? You wanted to surprise me, you bad boy.”
“So I guess you do know each other,” Ted said, still grinning.
Grace stood rooted to the top step of the porch, staring. What was Kit doing here?
As if he’d felt her regard, Kit looked over Alice’s head to her. “Miss Boisvert—Grace. How…how are you?”
What, no Puritan-maidening? Had he finally gotten tired of it? Grace opened her mouth to respond, but Alice beat her to it.
“She’s fine,” she said impatiently. “Oh, Kit.” She buried her face against his chest.
Grace wished she could see his expression, but the glow in the western sky didn’t cast enough light to see it by. But there was a curious, un-Kit-like stiffness about the way he moved his arm to pat her shoulder, then stepped back half a pace to disengage from her.
A murmur of voices from the open door finally seemed to bring Alice to the awareness that she and Kit weren’t alone. She let go of his jacket and straightened, but still gazed up at him with such adoration in her face that it was painful to see.
“Um….” Alice’s brother shifted uncomfortably, and Grace took a deep breath and climbed the last step to the porch. Somebody had to behave rationally here, and it appeared to be up to her.
“Hello.” She held her hand out to Ted. “I’m your sister’s friend, Grace Boisvert. I’m happy to meet you. Alice has spoken of you so often.”
Ted turned to her with a relieved expression. “Hello! I’m pleased to— Oh!” He stared at Grace for a few seconds, then took her outstretched hand and turned bright red. “She—you—that is, Alice talks about you too. But she never told us how pretty you are.” He gulped and turned even redder if that was possible.
And then a woman came out onto the porch scolding them to come in and get warm by the fire, and Grace and Alice were bundled inside to gulp a quick cup of tea and get ready for the final leg of their journey.
Alice would barely let Kit stir from her side in those few minutes. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said again. “You must have left right after Mrs. Rennell’s party! Grace, can you believe it?”
“Well, yes, since he is,” she couldn’t help replying a little impatiently. “I will admit, however, to being curious as to why he’s here.”
Alice looked at her as if she were crazy, but fortunately Kit spoke before she could.
“It’s your fault.” He smiled at Grace. She was put off-balance by that smile—she hadn’t seen it aimed at her since the day they met. “After you told my father where you were going, he couldn’t get it out of his head. He hadn’t been to the Adirondacks since he was a boy and decided that now was as good a time as any to return.”
“And you didn’t say no,” Alice put in demurely.
“No. I’ve never been here and neither had Mother, so here we are. I think you’ll like the Tahawus Club—right, Ted?”
Ted nodded enthusiastically and started to explain to Alice what he and their younger siblings had been doing since their arrival, but Alice didn’t appear to hear him. When a wiry, pleasant-faced man came in and suggested that they take advantage of the last of the daylight and get going, she waited while Ted and Kit went out, then pulled Grace aside inside the front door. “Kit’s parents!” she whispered. “I forgot about them! What am I going to do?”
“Do about what? I thought they were lovely when we met at the party.”
Alice made an impatient gesture. “Yes, because you actually met them. I was drunk as a lord and passed out. What are they going to think of me? And what if they say something about that night in front of my family?”
Grace started to tell her not to be silly, but there was a note of desperation in Alice’s voice that she’d never heard before. “They really were very nice. I don’t think they’d be so careless or mean,” she soothed.
“But what if they don’t like me?”
Grace was saved from having to reply by Ted sticking his head around the door. “Coming?”
Alice composed her face. “Yes, already.”
“Good. It’s getting dark and Mr. Kellogg wants to get going. If you get cold on the way, you can have my jacket.” He looked at Grace, then turned red again and ducked back around the door.
Alice grinned at her. “Ted’s found a new interest, I see. I think I’d better write to Tom Livingston and tell him he’s got a rival.”
“Oh, stop it,” Grace replied irritably.
But Alice was already out the door. “Ted, you and Grace can sit up front,” she announced, descending the stairs. “Kit and I will take the back.”
Ted registered his approval by at once climbing into the seat next to Mr. Kellogg. “There’s plenty of room here, Miss Boisvert,” he called to her.
Kit helped Alice up into the rear seat. She smiled down at him and patted the seat beside her. “I want to hear all about how you came up here.”
But to Grace’s surprise, he turned and held his hand out to her. “May I help you up?”
She hesitated at the foot of the porch steps. “Don’t you want to sit there?”
Again, it was hard to read his expression in the twilight. “I think it’s best if you do. Up you go,” he said cheerfully—determinedly so, Grace thought—and taking her arm, almost pushed her up into the seat. She landed heavily next to Alice, and the near horse stamped his foot and snorted.
“Kit Rookwood! I thought you were going to sit with me!” Alice protested.
He’d already crossed behind the wagon and was swinging himself up next to Ted, who looked as disappointed as his sister. “All set, Mr. Kellogg,” he said to the driver, who nodded and told the horses to start.
As they started up the road, Alice sat as rigidly as one could when riding in a jolting wagon. “Why did he do that?” she muttered to Grace.
“I don’t know, but can’t we talk about it later?” Grace murmured back. She was exhausted—sleep had been all but nonexistent last night on the ferry—but right now she was too exhilarated by the beauty of the trees’ song, bidding the sun farewell for the night, to listen to Alice. Time enough for that tomorrow…if the thought of the great forest around her didn’t keep her in a tumult all night.
Fortunately their horses were not as tired as she was and kept up a brisk pace through the growing darkness, to their driver’s frequently expressed surprise. “They’ve already been down to Lower and back twice today,” he commented. “I don’t know where they’re getting all this energy.”
So it wasn’t much more than two hours later that they drew up in front of a two-story frame building, made welcoming by the light spilling from its windows into the dark night. And then the front door flew open, and what seemed like a horde of children but was really only three boys and a girl came scrambling across the porch and up to the wagon, shrieking, “They’re here! They’re here!”
After that, much of the rest of the evening was a blur to Grace. Someone helped her down from the wagon—she didn’t remembe
r who—and she and Alice and Ted and Kit were dragged in to the building by the children, whom she realized were Alice’s younger siblings.
“C’mon,” said the tallest one, who was perhaps eleven or twelve. “Mrs. Hunter sent some dinner for you if you’re hungry. It’s on the stove.”
“We’re hungry,” Ted said, then glanced at Grace and blushed again, but none of his brothers noticed. They entered a sitting room, the details of which were obscured by two rows of small shirts and trousers and pinafores hanging from lines stretched along its width.
“Alice.” A handsome, calm-faced woman rose from an armchair to greet them—Alice’s stepmother, Edith Carow Roosevelt. “So you’re here. And Miss Boisvert, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Hello, Mother.” Alice dutifully kissed her cheek. Grace shook hands with her and found herself surveyed by cool gray-blue eyes.
“You are looking well. You will excuse our décor; the children spend a great deal of time playing in the river behind the house and get very wet as a result. May I present Miss Young, the children’s governess?” A sturdy-looking woman who’d just walked into the room with a basket of mending nodded to her and smiled at Alice. “Mr. Rookwood, thank you for accompanying Ted this evening. I am sure we will see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m sure too.” Alice smiled sweetly at him.
Kit nodded. “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Roosevelt. Good night.” He nodded again to the rest of them and, for a brief moment, met Grace’s eyes. Before she had time to react, he’d turned and left.
* * *
“Eating breakfast at eight in the morning is barbaric. The sun is barely even up,” Alice grumbled the next day as they left the cottage with Mrs. Roosevelt, Miss Young, and the children.
“That’s true,” Grace agreed. “I’m sure that in Newport sunrise wasn’t till half past nine at the earliest.”
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