by Anna Schmidt
“Hey,” he said, his voice and breathing unsteady. “We should head back before Aidan sends out a search party.”
“Yes.” She stepped away and put a hand to her hair to check for any damage. “Thank you for sharing your dream with me, Nick.” She motioned toward the land. “I hope you get everything you want.”
He had no words, so instead of talking, he took her hand and did not let go until they were close to where they had left the others. To Nick’s surprise, Emma, Aidan, and Jake had all joined Lily to wade in the shallow creek water. They were laughing and splashing water at one another, and judging by his soaked clothing, it was apparent Jake had fallen at least once.
“Well, finally,” Lily shouted when she spotted them. “You put me in charge of entertainment and then disappear?”
“What’s the entertainment?” Grace asked.
“Tag—you’re it,” Lily replied as she splashed Grace with water.
“Not fair,” Grace squealed. “I still have my shoes on.”
“Take them off,” Emma instructed, pointing to a place where the trees grew so close together, they provided a screen. “And you as well,” she added, turning on Nick and splashing him before pointing to a place where Aidan’s and Jake’s boots stood near a large, flat boulder.
Nick hobbled on one foot and then the other as he cast off his boots and socks and stepped in the cool water. Lily and Emma squealed and hid behind Jake and Aidan, and the game was on.
Once they straggled out of the creek, damp and chilled, there was enough food left for them to share a light supper before starting back. As they gathered at the wagon, waiting while Jake and Nick hitched up the team, Lily sighed and then spun in a circle.
“What a wonderful day,” she shouted, her face raised to the sky.
The others laughed and prepared to take their places for the ride home. “You drive the team,” Nick said, handing Aidan the reins. “Grace and I will ride in back.”
“And leave me up here alone?”
“We’ll sing to keep you awake,” Lily volunteered, pulling the blanket Jake had handed her closer around her shoulders.
“More likely you’ll all be sound asleep before we’ve gone half a mile.” Aidan turned to look at them. “Miss Elliott, would you be so kind as to ride up here with me and keep me from drifting off and leading us astray?”
Emma hesitated, then nodded.
Once everyone was settled, Aidan clicked his tongue, and the team lumbered forward. Lily rested her head on Jake’s shoulder, and the expression on Jake’s face needed no explanation. The man looked like he’d died and gone straight to heaven. Nick envied him, as Grace seemed intent on making sure no part of their bodies touched—not even their shoulders. She carefully arranged the blanket so that a furrow a man could plant corn in separated them.
She was a strange one all right. One minute, she was kissing him as if they had been lovers for weeks, and the next, she was sitting upright, stiff and tense as the wagon rocked from side to side. He leaned closer, daring her to scoot away.
“Relax, Grace,” he whispered. “I’m not going to kiss you in front of the others, although I doubt they would even notice.”
“Oh, they’ll notice,” she whispered back. “At least Lily and Emma would, and I’d not hear the end of it for days.”
Nick let out a breath and struck up a conversation about the weather in a normal tone that invited the others to take part. Emma and Aidan took the bait, and finally, Grace relaxed enough to allow their shoulders to meet and sway in rhythm to the movement of the wagon. He reached between them and took hold of her hand, interweaving his fingers with hers.
And when she did not pull away, he smiled.
Chapter 7
The dining room was extra busy the following week, but Grace didn’t mind. The busier they were, the more likely she could be promoted from serving beverages to full waitress, and that would surely mean another small raise in her wages.
At night, Lily could talk of nothing but the Lombard party. Emma and Grace listened patiently as she chattered on about who might be there, naming some of the wealthy ranchers and businessmen who often had their dinners at the hotel.
“You are being unkind to Jake,” Emma noted one night as she repaired a snag in her stockings.
“Jake and I are just buddies—friends,” Lily proclaimed. “We’ve talked, and he knows I could never feel that way about him. He’s a nice guy but…”
Emma bit off a thread and examined her handiwork. “That man is head over heels in love with you, Lily, and you know it. Is it so impossible to imagine a day when the two of you might find a way to be together?”
When Lily didn’t come back with her usual snappy comment, Grace looked up from the letter she was writing and was surprised to see Lily’s chin tremble as she bit her lower lip. Grace set her pencil and paper aside and stretched out a comforting hand. “Lily, what is it?”
“I can’t be with Jake,” she blubbered. “The truth is I can’t be with anyone.”
Grace and Emma glanced at each other and then focused on Lily. “Why?” Emma asked, laying her handwork aside.
Lily tugged at a loose curl of hair. She was not looking at them. “I’m married,” she whispered, and the floodgates opened as she threw herself down on her bed, covering her face with her pillow.
Grace looked at Emma, who sat frozen and open-mouthed, her eyes pinned on Lily. “Married?” she finally managed in a whisper.
Lily let out a fresh wail that Grace took to be affirmative. She tried to find her way through the thoughts rocketing like fireworks through her brain. “But you can’t be. I mean, we aren’t permitted.”
Lily sat up, throwing the pillow aside. “I lied, Grace. No one knows.”
“But then where is your husband?” Emma placed her fist against her lips as a fresh thought came to her. “Oh, Lily, tell me there are no children.”
“There are no children,” Lily confirmed. “He didn’t stay long enough for that.”
“How did you meet?” Grace’s question might have been inane, but there were so many missing pieces to what Lily had just shared. Perhaps starting at the beginning might make sense of it all.
Lily sniffed back a sob. “It was before you and I met, Emma. Before I knew there was such a thing as a Harvey Girl, I was down on my luck. I’d been let go from the job at Marshall Field’s, and I was barely getting by. I was cleaning rooms at a hotel, thinking of taking a job in a saloon as one of the dancehall girls, when suddenly, there he was. He was a guest, a businessman, always immaculately groomed and well-dressed. One day, the bellboy handed me a note. It was from him, inviting me to meet him for dinner.”
“You didn’t?” Emma was clearly shocked.
“Obviously, I did,” Lily admitted. “I mean, if you had seen the man, all charm and perfect manners, you would have gone as well. Yes, even you, Emma Elliott.”
“I don’t understand. You had dinner, but how did you end up married?” Grace felt an actual chill.
Lily sighed. “We met every night, and it wasn’t like what you might be thinking. He took me to a concert and bought me presents, sent me flowers. Oh, there was kissing, and after a couple of nights, things got pretty heavy between us, if you get my meaning. But when he wanted to…you know, I refused.”
“Good.” Emma seemed to breathe for the first time since Lily’s stunning announcement.
“I told him the only way that would ever happen would be if we were properly married.” Her tone was defiant, and then her expression changed to one of disbelief. “The next night, we met as usual, and he took me straight to a justice of the peace, put a ring on my finger, said the words, and called my bluff.”
“So you spent the night with him?” Emma was aghast.
“We were married,” Lily replied, stressing each word. “We are married—at least as far as I know. Nothing
really happened. I mean, we were naked and all, but he’d had so much to drink that he fell asleep before—”
“Where is he now?” Grace asked.
Lily shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care. The morning after our so-called wedding night, I awoke to a note on the pillow next to me, claiming he had business back east and would be in touch. That was three years ago, and I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him since.” She started to cry again, softly this time, the tears dropping unnoticed onto the pillow she clutched.
“But, Lily, if you never consummated the union, you can get an annulment,” Emma protested. “He’s not worth your tears, Lily, and he certainly does not deserve to ruin your life.”
“So your answer is that I should seek an annulment,” Lily fumed as she stomped around the room. “Brand myself forever with that? I did nothing wrong. When does he face the music? When does he have to endure finger pointing and whispers and gossip?”
She was right, Grace thought. It was Lily who would pay the price of her mistake in trusting this man.
With a long shuddering breath, Lily pulled herself together. Calmly, she turned to face them. “So now you understand why I can never be with Jake…or anyone else. All I have are my fantasies, girls, so please, could we just not talk about something for which there is no solution and allow me to enjoy what might have been?”
What could they say? They were her friends, so they would do what Lily asked. “But the man is not worth it,” Emma muttered.
Later, after the three of them had said their good nights and settled under the covers of their own beds, Grace lay awake staring at the blackness surrounding her. She thought about Nick and the way he had kissed her. Was he like Lily’s husband? Did he think he could simply take what he wanted when he wanted it? No, she decided, it wasn’t the same thing at all. Nick was nothing like the horrible man who had wronged her friend. He was a gentleman. And yet when Nick had walked her to the door of the hotel following their outing, he had said something about wanting to see her again but without all the chaperones.
She took that to mean he wanted to be alone with her, and when they were alone, past experience showed he would want to kiss her. She could not deny she wanted that as well. But what if he wanted more, like Lily’s husband had wanted from her? She imagined Nick opening the collar of her dress, touching her exposed throat, kissing her there—and other places. She squirmed in the bed, trying to relieve the strange and oddly thrilling ache that spread from between her thighs up through her body.
“Grace!”
Emma getting out of her own bed and shaking Grace’s shoulder brought her fully awake. “What?”
“Lie still or get up,” Emma whispered. “It’s like sleeping in a room with a whirling dervish!”
“Sorry,” Grace muttered and turned onto her side, forcing herself to remain perfectly still until she was sure Emma was asleep. Then she slipped out of bed, found paper and pencil, and curled up on the floor near the window. Working with the light from the street, she started a letter to her mother.
Dear Mama,
I want to tell you about a wonderful man I’ve met. He has the kindest eyes and the most winning smile, and when he touches my hand, it feels like we were meant to be together.
She paused, chewing on the end of the pencil. She realized what she really wanted to tell her folks was that with each passing day, she was less and less sure that she wanted to return to the farm. It felt as if her life was in Juniper now. She loved her family dearly, but what would she do in Missouri? By now, someone else had taken the teaching position, and when she thought about marrying and settling down, it was Nick she saw herself with. That might not work out, of course. But if she went back to the farm, it never could. She folded the letter into quarters, crept back to her bed, and placed the letter in the box that held the picture of her parents and the ribbon from the box of chocolates Nick had sent her.
* * *
Grace had never been to such a grand party as the one the Lombards hosted. The large house and courtyard were alive with the wavering flames of dozens of candles. A quartet of musicians played classical selections in the front parlor, while in the courtyard, a trio provided livelier music for those wishing to dance. The food rivaled anything Grace had ever seen, even at the hotel. The guests were all dressed in costume, the upper halves of their faces covered with masks. Grace moved among the clusters of guests with a silver tray filled with crystal glasses of sparkling cider. In spite of her determination not to, she caught herself searching the crowd for Nick. She had already recognized one of the men who’d taken them on the trip to the falls weeks earlier, but she did not see Nick.
She focused on the younger women, many of them single. After all, Nick and his men had been given the assignment of dancing with the unaccompanied young ladies.
And then she saw him—or rather the back of him, his broad shoulders accented by a white shirt covered with a black leather vest, the unmistakable way his hair curled just slightly over the shirt collar. Her tray tipped dangerously, but she recovered as she recalled the feeling of her fingers entwined in that thick hair when he’d kissed her. He turned with his partner, gazing down at the woman in his arms, and Grace saw that he wore a black half mask that made his smile even more appealing.
“Just doing his job,” Lily whispered with a nod toward the dance floor. She passed Grace and moved on to serve a gathering of businessmen engrossed in conversation on the veranda.
And I should get on with mine, Grace thought. She smiled brightly and offered cider to two women about her age who were watching the dancing. They each accepted a glass, and as Grace moved on, she heard one whisper, “Who is he?”
“I have no idea,” her friend replied, “but I wouldn’t kick that one out of my bed, believe me.” The two giggled as they edged closer to the dance floor, no doubt for a better look.
Grace was tempted to tell them that Nick Hopkins was simply doing his job, and if there was anyone at this party he would think of taking to bed, it would surely be her, not them.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.” The man blocking her way was her father’s age and obviously drunk. “How about a dance, little lady?”
Blessedly, that was the moment the tune ended. Grace smiled politely. “I’m so sorry, sir, but I’m part of the staff.” She held up the tray to prove her point.
To her surprise, the man relieved her of the tray and placed his broad hand flat against her back, guiding her to the dance floor. “I said I want to dance, missy,” he muttered and motioned to the musicians to strike up a tune. He pulled her tight against his barrel chest, and his cheek resting against her temple was wet with perspiration. She tried to put distance between them as he moved her awkwardly into a waltz, but any attempt in that direction seemed only to fuel his determination to hold her as close as possible. “Do you know who I am?”
She tried to smile. “You’re wearing a mask, sir, but—”
“I am Jasper Perkins, and I have more money than you’ll ever see, girlie, so count your blessings I chose you tonight.”
“It’s my pleasure to dance with you, sir…”
His laugh was too loud and made him slobber slightly. “This ain’t about dancing. This is about you meeting me later. Top of the stairs, end of the hall. I’ll be waitin’.”
Grace was sure she was going to be sick. And then Mr. Lombard was there, his hand on Mr. Perkins’s shoulder. “Jasper, there you are. We need you for the card game.” He was smiling, but Grace noticed his eyes were cold as ice. “My foreman will finish the dance for you. Come along.” He led the man away.
Grace turned to bolt from the dance floor and found herself facing Nick instead. He held out his arms to her. “Shall we?” he asked.
“I have to—”
“Don’t run, Grace. Never run. Hold your head up. Smile. That’s my girl.”
He spun her
to the music as others who had witnessed the scene settled back into the rhythm of the dance. And in his arms, she felt safe, but she resisted the inclination to rest her cheek against his chest. The tune ended, and the dancers dispersed. Jake, who had wrangled a position on the serving staff, picked up the silver tray Perkins had disposed of so unceremoniously.
“You okay, Grace?” he asked.
She nodded, swallowing the bile that burned in her throat and forcing a smile. Mrs. Lombard threaded her way through the guests. Grace was sure she was about to be dismissed for the evening.
“My dear,” Mrs. Lombard said, taking Grace’s hand between both of hers. “Please accept my apologies. Jasper is—well, aside from being my brother-in-law, he is an ass, pardon my language.” She turned to Nick. “Please see that this young lady gets some air, Nick, and a chance to recover her nerves.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick took hold of Grace’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s start by getting you some of that fruit punch.”
“I’m fine,” she protested.
He grinned. “Sorry. Boss lady gave me orders, Grace.”
The punch helped. Nick even joined her, and it occurred to Grace that they must look like two more guests enjoying the party. They each wore a mask, and although she was dressed in the garb of a lady-in-waiting, it was no less a costume than that of those women who were clothed as princesses or fairies. The two young women who had been watching Nick dance stared at her standing so close to him, their mouths open in surprise. She resisted the temptation to raise her punch cup in a toast to them.
“Now we walk,” Nick said, once again taking hold of her arm and tucking it through the crook of his elbow.
“Walk where?”
“Away from here,” he replied.
Willingly, she followed him away from the throng of guests, away from the candlelight, away from the music and chatter. He led her past the corral and on toward the bunkhouse and a banco just outside the door. “Sit,” he instructed.