Yours Truly, Thomas

by Rachel Fordham

  The two girls leaned in toward each other. Penny could pick up only a few of their whispered words. “You ask.” “No.” “I think it’s her.”

  Penny cleared her throat. Both girls looked up at her. One took a little step toward her and asked, “Have you come to see Thomas? Are you the girl he’s sweet on?”

  Penny balked. No words came.

  The one on the right had asked the question, but they both looked equally anxious for her reply. When she remained silent, one of them spoke. “You must be surprising him. We saw him not long ago and he didn’t tell us you’d be here yet.”

  “He would have told us otherwise.” The girl on the left clasped her hands together. “I knew you’d come. I wish we’d known. We would have decorated and had a whole welcoming party waiting for you.”

  Who were these girls? And was it her Thomas they were referring to? It was all so puzzling.

  “I’ve come to write . . . a novel,” she said. “I’m glad to be here, but I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  Their bright expressions dimmed a little. The girl on the left spoke up. “I was sure you were Thomas’s girl. We knew his girl would be beautiful, and you are. He writes letters to a woman who lives far away.” She frowned. “He told us he’d tell us if she ever came here.”

  The other girl reached over and dug her fingers into Honey’s long coat. “Your dog is the oddest-looking dog I’ve ever seen.”

  “Don’t say that. It’s not polite,” the other sister said while glaring in her twin’s direction.

  “It’s all right. Let me introduce you to Honeysuckle.” Penny told the dog to sit. “This is my dearest friend, Honey. That’s what I call her for short. I’ve had her since she was a puppy. We thought she was an ordinary poodle, but once her hair started growing we knew otherwise. I even have it cut, but it just keeps growing back. Sometimes I sit beside her and put little braids in it. My mother always insists I take them out before anyone sees her.”

  “I think she’d look nice with braids,” one of the girls said.

  “Someday perhaps you can sit and braid her hair.” Penny patted the dog’s head. “You’ve met Honey. Will you tell me your names?”

  “I’m Mae Howell,” said the more assertive sister on the right, “and that’s Milly. What’s your name?”

  “Penelope Ercanbeck, but everyone calls me Penny.” She kept her eyes on the dog. “Tell me about Thomas. Is he a friend?”

  “He’s a handsome newcomer to our town. He’s living on a farm now, so we don’t see him much. He’s all alone at the old Dawson place. I don’t think I’d like living alone. I think he’ll be happier when his lady gets here.”

  “He’s expecting a visitor?” Penny kept her voice level.

  “I think so.”

  “We aren’t certain,” Milly said with a bit of a bashful look on her face.

  Mae took over again. “Papa says we are presumptuous and shouldn’t spread rumors about things we know nothing about. But I don’t think it’s a rumor. I’ve seen him go to the post office from my window. I know he’s mailing letters. Even Georgiana from school said he mails letters to a woman, so it’s not a rumor. Her pa’s the postman. He’s not supposed to talk about the mail, but he does anyway and then she tells us.” Mae turned to Milly and asked, “Do you remember her name?”

  “I think it was Catherine or Cora. Something like that,” Milly answered. “I hope she comes soon.”

  Penny smiled down at them. “You certainly are observant. Do you watch everyone so closely?”

  “We live in that house over there.” The girl pointed toward a perfectly groomed two-story house. “Papa owns the store. Between us watching from our windows and spending time at the store, we usually know what’s happening. But not much ever happens in Azure Springs. Except when Em came, but that was a long time ago. I can’t wait to tell the girls from school about you and Honey. They’ll be jealous we saw you first.”

  “I’m not sure I’m much to talk about. But I’m flattered.” She felt more at home knowing these two little locals. Their eager, welcoming ways were infectious. Even in a primitive place such as this it seemed that children were still much the same—full of sunshine and excitement. “What errand am I keeping you from?”

  “We were on our way to the store. Mama wants us to tell Papa she needs brown sugar, wheat, and something else.” Mae turned to Milly. “What else were we supposed to tell him?”

  “Ink. She wants to write to Grandma Howell about Eliza.” Milly sighed. “I wish she had married someone else. We never see her now. I thought since Jeb was so handsome she’d be happy, but she just frowns and tells us to mind our own business.”

  Penny couldn’t follow the conversation. She didn’t know who Eliza and Jeb were. And she certainly didn’t understand the rush to write Grandma Howell. “You best run along and deliver your message. I’d hate to keep you from it.”

  “Mama gets worried if we take too long. I’ll tell her we’ve an author in town and that’s what kept us.” The girls started away from her. “You will have to come and eat with us sometime. Mama’s a great cook and loves visitors. It was lovely meeting you, even if you aren’t Thomas’s girl. If his girl never comes, maybe he’d court you.”

  “It was lovely meeting you too,” Penny said. Honey barked. “I look forward to meeting Thomas.”

  The girls waved as they frolicked away.

  Penny laughed to herself as she watched their brown curls bouncing behind them. When they disappeared into the general store, she again turned and faced the yellow building. Yellow was an expensive paint color. She’d learned that from an especially dull letter from a painter to his father. If she hadn’t read Thomas’s letters, she’d have been completely stunned to see such a building in this tiny town. But it was real and she was here.

  Penny knocked, and then mere seconds later the door flew open. There before her stood a tall woman in a bright blue dress trimmed in yellow. Her brown hair was curly and wild, but her face was soft and full of life.

  “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” The woman stood with her hands on her hips. “I’m Margaret Anders. Tell me why you’re standing on my doorstep.”

  Penny stood gaping, her feet planted firmly like the roots of a tree.

  The woman winked and Penny felt the blood pulsing in her limbs once again. Margaret reached out and grasped Penny’s hand, pulling her and Honey inside. “My, my, look at this dog.” She moved her gaze to Penny. “And you—such dark hair and green eyes. My goodness. Let me guess, you’re here to meet someone?”

  “No.”

  “Even if you’re not, I’ve a whole list of fine folks for you to meet. Don’t you always feel more settled in a place when you know a few friendly faces? Makes you feel less like a stranger.”

  “Yes. I suppose. I’ve met the Howell twins so far and the ticket man. They’ve all been very welcoming. I haven’t traveled much. I’m new at being . . . new,” she said lamely as she pulled on Honey’s leash, urging the dog closer to her side.

  “That’s a good start. Those twins are mighty well connected for being only nine. Stick by them and you’ll know the whole town before the week’s through. How long you here for? You are here to rent a room, aren’t you? And the dog, will it be staying?”

  “I’m staying, if you’ve a room. My dog too, if you don’t mind. I should have had her hair trimmed before coming. She’s a good dog even if she doesn’t look it.”

  “She’ll draw some attention, that’s for sure. If you’ll keep an eye on her, then she can stay. Tell me, though, are you planning to be here a good long while?”

  Penny struggled to find an answer. “I’m not completely sure. Two or three weeks. Less . . . more. It’s hard to say.”

  “That’s fine by me. Two or three weeks is long enough. I’ll have time to introduce you to everyone, and who knows, maybe we can even convince you to stay.” Margaret smirked as though she had a secret. “The men in this town are going to be thrilled to have yo
u here. There’s a social Friday night. That’ll give you two days to recover from your journey before you stay up way too late dancing. I’ll get anything washed and pressed you need. I’m hardly a lady’s maid, but I can help you with your hair too if you wish. It’ll be good fun getting you ready.” Margaret reached a finger up and twisted it around one of her wild curls and winked. “I do my own every day.”

  “Oh. It’s very . . . nice.”

  Margaret filled the air with a deep, rolling laugh. “It’s wild. Don’t you worry though. I take more time on other people’s. I gave up on my curls long ago. They are what some people like to call disobedient. I’ve been called a good many things. Between my hair and the color of this house, everyone seems to think I’ve lost a few of the screws in my upstairs.”

  “That’s not very kind.”

  “I don’t mind. I don’t really want to blend in with the town. That’d be a bit dull. Tell me, are you the type who wants to dress and act exactly how you’re told to? If you are, that’s fine. Best to know now, though, so I can watch what I say around you.”

  Penny shook her head. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know where I fit in this world.”

  Margaret pulled her farther into the house. “I think you and I will get on just fine. I’ve never known exactly where I fit either. It’s a wonderful way to be. Only one who matters is the Lord, and he has a way of getting you where you need to go if you’re willing to listen.”

  If only it were so simple. “Sometimes not knowing is not an option. One cannot simply meander through life never making a decision.”

  “I suppose decisions are part of life, but while you’re here, there’ll be no worrying about fitting in.” Margaret shrugged. “Come to the social and you’ll see. We all dine and dance together.”

  “I’m not sure I should be going to the town social. I’d feel like an intruder. I’m only here temporarily.”

  “Nonsense. Of course you should come. Everyone will love having a new partner to dance with. We’re mighty close to even numbers, but often the men still outnumber the ladies, which works out fine for me. Besides, I don’t cook that night. Even I need a night away from the kitchen. The way I see it, you’ll have to come.” She nudged Penny with her elbow. “We’ve got a few eligible men. You aren’t married, are you?”

  Penny pointed to herself. “Me? No.”

  “Good! Things have been a little slow around here lately. I could use a little fun in my life again.” She put a finger to her chin. “Maybe a little matchmaking will liven things up.”

  Penny wrinkled her brow. “No. I’m not—”

  “Don’t you worry. I won’t let just anyone have you. I only make good matches.” She patted Penny’s arm. “You can trust me.”

  “I suppose I should thank you.” She giggled despite herself. “I’m not willing to marry just anyone. But I didn’t come looking for a match. In fact, I left a scheming mother and uncle back home.”

  “Most people who find a good match find one when they are not looking. They tend to sneak up on you. Although, I’ve known of a match or two that were made by clever friends.” She motioned toward the stairs. “Come along. Bring your dog too and I’ll show you around. Don’t worry too much about my teasing ways. I’m just having a bit of fun.” She began climbing the stairs. “I had a man staying here while he waited for a wagon. He was determined to go as far west as possible. But in the end, he bought up land here. He’s a mighty fine fellow. I simply delighted in teasing the poor man.”

  “How do you know he’s a fine fellow?”

  Margaret turned and gave her a quizzical look. For a moment Penny feared she had given herself away.

  “I’m a good judge of people,” Margaret said as she continued up the stairs. “And with Thomas, I could just tell. That’s his name, Thomas Conner. Room’s been open since.”

  Penny followed in silence, but within she quivered with excitement just knowing she was going to walk where he had walked. And then there she was in the little room. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find. Truly, it was an ordinary room. It contained a bed with a brightly colored quilt, a washbasin, and a little desk. Her eyes paused at the desk. He’d written to Clara from that very spot. Absently, she walked to it. She touched the smooth wood and looked out the window and admired the same view he must have gazed upon.

  “Will this suit you?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “You let me know if you need anything. I take care of meals and board, but I’ve also been known to offer a good listening ear. Sometimes I think that’s why the good Lord’s left me here. I get the pleasure of feeding a houseful every night and listening to the life stories of the friends who stay under this roof.”

  “I’d like to sit and talk with you.” Penny didn’t turn from the window. “I would very much love to be considered one of your friends.”

  “When you’re ready, come and we’ll share a cup of tea, or better yet, a thick slice of buttered bread. And then we’ll really get to know each other. For now, you just get settled.”

  When Penny turned around, Margaret was gone.

  By her second morning in Azure Springs, Penny found herself already wondering how she ought to fill her time. The idea of being aimless and free had seemed more appealing prior to her arrival. She found herself longing for something engaging to do, a plan to work toward, something. Anything.

  “What do you think Father would do?” Penny asked Honey as they walked down the street for the fourth time. “I think he’d tell me to enjoy myself. Or to have an adventure. But how does one go about that?”

  A few blocks from the boardinghouse was the edge of town. Penny took the leash off Honey and let her run and play while she sat with paper in hand and attempted to write a rousing letter about her travels.

  Dear Dinah,

  I’m here in Azure Springs. It’s a charming enough little town. I’ve walked the main street and the side streets many times. I’m grateful for Honey beside me. She draws attention, though, with her long hair. Everyone stops and asks about her and then they ask about me. I should see if the town’s barber would cut her matted coat. That would fill an afternoon and allow me to blend in at least somewhat better. Plus, her ridiculously long hair carries along with it dirt and grass. And if she decides she must jump into a creek, then she is nothing but the filthiest creature to ever walk this earth. Luckily, Margaret has a giant washtub set up behind her house, but I’ve seen her jaw set firmly when Honey’s tracked mud into her boardinghouse. I must break Honey of her newfound love of mud and water. I fear my beloved four-footed friend may become a bit of a menace.

  I believe I have wasted enough of my page space on Honey. I must tell you about two charming twin girls I met when I had just arrived in town. They stopped me before I’d even reached the boardinghouse and peppered me with questions. They were certain I was Thomas Conner’s lady. Can you imagine that? I wonder, though, if he does have a lady. What if he is one of those wicked men who has a woman in several different places? Since arriving, I’ve had far too much time to think, and lately I’ve been creating the most absurd ideas about the man. I picture him old one moment and the next he’s a terrible drunk. What I hope, though, is that he is neither old nor drunk. I try to remind myself that I did not come to this town only to meet Thomas Conner. I came because I needed a place to think and this place was good enough. But I’m anxious to get a look at him. I wonder if we’ve passed each other on the street and I’ve just not known it was him.

  Oh dear. Honey just ran off to who-knows-where in pursuit of a bird. Mother always said Honey was not meant to be kept in small places, but here may be a bit too large.

  I shall go traipsing after the disobedient animal in a moment. First, I must tell you of the atrocious tale I’ve told. Upon arrival, I was practically interrogated about my reasons for coming to this quaint little town and somehow my wagging tongue declared I was here to write a book. I am now known throughout town as an aspiring author. I
could write about my exciting life as a reader of other people’s mail and the consequences of forgetting that all that mail was not intended for me. Do you think such a book would sell?

  Write me when you can. I’m at the boardinghouse. There’s only one. I desperately want to know if you are married. And if you are, I want to know what it is like to make vows with a man.

  Wishing I had my friend beside me,

  Penny

  She folded the letter and slid it in her pocket. Then she stood, lifted her skirts a few inches, and went stomping through the golden field, yelling for Honey.

  “You looking for that hairy dog?” a large man with a scruffy beard asked from atop his horse. “I’ve never seen a dog like that before. You know, there’s no law against trimming a dog’s hair.”

  “When I become acquainted with the barber, I’ll see if he can oblige.” Penny put a hand above her eyes to block the sun and pointed. “She went that way chasing a bird. I’m afraid she’s not used to so much freedom. And I’m not used to keeping this close a watch on her.”

  The man slid off the horse’s back. “I’ll help you. I saw her as I rode toward town. She wasn’t too far away.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure you’re busy.” She stopped worrying about her dog for a brief moment and looked at this helpful stranger. He was handsome in an unkempt way. For a moment she wondered if he could be Thomas. But Thomas wasn’t a rugged man. He was a city man. A bark a fair distance away pulled her attention back toward her present predicament.

  The man approached her, leading his horse behind him. “It’ll be faster on horseback.”

  She looked at his impressive gray mare. “All right.”

  Then, before she could speak again, he reached for her waist, and the next thing she knew, she was up on top of the horse and sitting in the saddle. Only a moment later he was behind her. She sat up straight and stiff. “I must warn you, though, this horse has a mind of her own.”

  She braced herself. “I used to ride. I’ll manage.”

  His arm came around her waist. She felt the air leave her lungs. It had been a very long time since she’d been so close to a man. The last time had been . . . years ago when she used to attend dances.