“A pit?”
He shook his head. “I lost my wagon and my plans were thwarted. It was hard for me to admit defeat. That and other realities of life were hard to shoulder. Life’s been a cruel teacher. But Margaret refused to let me withdraw. She’s pushed me to face it all.” He looked past her then. “It was a difficult time. Still is. I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s not like me.”
Every part of Penny wanted to reach out and touch him. To offer some comfort. Never had she yearned to be someone’s solace in a storm as badly as she did at this moment for this near-stranger. And yet looking at him now, he did not seem like a stranger, for already she felt she knew what was inside of him.
Instead of touching him and holding him as she longed to do, she offered only a sympathetic smile. “If her persistence and attention kept you from slipping away, I am grateful. My father always believed we should look out for one another. Margaret seems to have a knack for it.”
“A wise man.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve agreed to the social as well. I need to find men to help me with my farm. I’m told everyone will be there.”
“Margaret tells me the same.”
“And will you be dancing?”
Penny’s eyes met his. But only for a moment. His seemed to be searching hers and she feared he could see into her very soul. “I love dancing. I’ve not danced in years, but there was a time when I could dance all night and never sit a number out. I didn’t tire of it a bit.”
“I had a time in my life like that too.”
Had Clara been his partner of choice? Probably she’d been his equal in looks. She sighed. The crowds had likely parted as the two had danced around in each other’s arms.
He cleared his throat. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“You were not always a farmer?” she asked, well aware she was baiting him. Fishing for more. For everything, if she could have it.
“No, I was not. I was a very different man.” He stepped aside, opening the path to the counter. “But I’m a farmer now and the land is waiting for me. I’ll see you at the social.”
“I’ll be there.”
He walked to the counter, where he paid for his goods and thanked Abraham. With the small sack in his hands, he stepped toward the door.
“Wait! Thomas, would you carry a sack of flour to Margaret?” Abraham’s loud voice interrupted Thomas’s departure. “I promised I’d deliver it for her but won’t make it over there until after her evening meal.”
Thomas pursed his lips, then nodded before taking the sack from Abraham. “I’d be happy to help. Miss Ercanbeck, would you care to walk back with me?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She stepped away from the paper and ink without purchasing anything.
With the flour on his shoulder and the small sack in his hand, Thomas left the store and Penny followed. A few steps later and they were walking at an equal pace. Penny tried to focus on the street ahead, but she couldn’t resist stealing a few discreet glances in his direction. There he was, walking the streets of Azure Springs beside her. It was like a dream, a fantasy. And yet it was real.
“May I carry your baking powder and other supplies?” she asked.
He handed her the little bundle and shifted the heavier one onto his other shoulder. “Thank you.”
Penny took a deep breath. “It smells better here than in DC, don’t you think?”
“Much better. Here it smells like wheat and tilled earth.”
She laughed. “It’s better than stale air. I think I could get used to it here. I’ve never spent much time in quaint places like this. I didn’t even realize people lived with so much space around them.” She reached her arms out to her sides. “I love it. It feels freer, don’t you think?”
“I do. But I wasn’t as quick to figure it out as you. I showed up here and felt nothing but angry that my plans had been foiled. I didn’t want to stay. I suppose I might have felt that way about most any place I’d ended up in. I wasn’t too eager to put down roots.” Thomas looked down the street. “There I go again. Have you some magical power that loosens my tongue?”
“I suppose we will have to keep talking in order to know for certain.”
“Very well. I’ll tell you this. Azure Springs is a good place. One of the finest I’ve ever set foot in. I think you’ll enjoy your visit.”
“You came not wanting to stay and I came wishing I could stay forever.” She looked up toward the Howells’ home. “The twins told me they like to watch from their windows.”
“I’ll have to be careful what I do when I’m in front of their home.” He chuckled under his breath. “Or I could have a little fun and see if I can give them something to talk about.”
Penny put a hand over her eyes in an attempt to block the sun. “I don’t see them now. Or else I’d be curious to see what you’d do.”
“You’ll see plenty of them. They like to follow me around and ask me all sorts of questions and then giggle. They’ll likely take to you the same way.”
“I’m quite certain they won’t giggle around me for the same reason they giggle around you.” She smirked at him, then looked ahead. Her eyes and mind were trying to reconcile the man beside her with the man whose letters she’d read. An involuntary sigh escaped. He seemed to be the very best version of all she’d imagined. “I do like the twins. There’s something innocent and carefree about them. They told me you’ve a girl on the way here.” She kept her eyes looking ahead to the boardinghouse and quickened her pace. Inwardly she chided herself for mentioning a girl.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t have a girl. Not like they imagine it. It’s probably for the best. I’m not sure my farm is a place anyone would want to live. They’ve got active imaginations and I’m guilty of humoring them at times.”
“What’s wrong with your farm?”
“The farm itself is a fine enough place. I’m just not much of a farmer.” He shifted the sack of flour again.
“Why farm, then?”
“Well, I like it out there and hope to get better with time.” He stopped then. “I want to succeed. Someday I want to be more than a budding farmer. I think I do at least. I want to plant seeds and know that because of my care they are growing. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s the first place where I’ve cared about the process. Before, I only cared about my pocketbook. I don’t know that I’ll farm forever, but it’s a good spot for me now. There’s tranquility there that I’ve never known before. I’ve needed it.”
“I believe you will tame the land.”
“That’s just it. The land is taming me.” He started walking again. “Come and see it sometime. You’re from the city. You know the constant ruckus of it. Come to my land and tell me if it whispers to you the way it does to me. I may sound foolish, but it’s teaching me, and whatever lessons it has for me, I’m going to learn them.”
“You’ve no idea how much I would like to see it and to hear it.” If only she could ask him to take her now. What she wouldn’t give to lay eyes on the old Dawson place. Instead, she schooled her tongue and said, “For my book, of course.”
Thomas shook his head as he walked away. His pants were wet. His shirt was wet. Even his shoes were wet.
He’d carried in Margaret’s sack of flour. His intention had been to leave it and then go on his way. He’d already spent far longer in town than he should have. But once he had opened the door, Margaret had come running, commanding them to catch the dog and get the filthy beast cleaned up.
“I thought you said not to hurry,” Penny responded.
“I didn’t realize your dog was so wild!”
Penny looked at him, her green eyes pleading. “Want to help? Again?”
“Of course,” he said, unable to leave her helpless. The two of them chased the muddy dog through the boardinghouse until Penny finally cornered her and threw herself on top of the dog.
“I don’t think you were properly introduced to my dog. Thomas, this is Honey,” she said from her
spot on the floor. “She seems to think rural living means no rules.”
“You get that dog cleaned up,” Margaret said. “You should have told me I couldn’t leave the door open.”
“I didn’t know.” Penny’s voice was full of remorse. “I’ve never lived by a muddy creek. I had no idea she’d run for it every second of every day.”
Margaret put a hand on her forehead. “Look at the floor.”
They all looked. Muddy footprints dotted the floor and little brown spots were haphazardly strewn across the wooden planks.
“You’re in such trouble,” Penny said to the dog. Then she looked down at her own dress and laughed. “This will be her third bath of the day. And the third dress I’ve soiled.”
“Let me help you,” Thomas said.
Together they’d taken the dog outside and cleaned the thick mud from her coat. A muddy dog and a green-eyed girl. Neither had been in his plan for the afternoon. He laughed under his breath. It had been the finest afternoon he’d spent since coming to Azure Springs. He walked away wondering why he felt what he felt. Something was different. She was different—or maybe he was different because of her presence. He felt strangely at ease around her, comfortable as though they’d shared a long and intimate history. It didn’t make any sense. Perhaps it was the flush of her cheeks when she’d scattered the papers or the striking contrast of her fair skin and dark hair. Or was it the tenderness he felt when she looked at him? Her eyes were so attentive. She cared about what he said. He knew it. And then there was the way they’d laughed together as they splashed the wet and muddy dog with clean water. It had been a good day, and he’d needed a good day.
But now the farm was calling. Thomas pulled the reins off the hitching post. “Come on, girl.”
The horse pulled away, fighting against his command.
“Trouble with your horse?” Jeb Danbury sneered at him from across the way. “If you can’t even manage your animals, how will you ever succeed as a farmer?”
Thomas would’ve liked nothing more than to slug the rebellious horse and then take a swing at Jeb. Instead, he tugged harder on the reins and turned his shoulder to the man.
“I hear they’re hiring on the railroads. Maybe you’d do better with a pickax,” Jeb called to his back. “Or you could go back to where you came from. There might be a factory that’d take you on.”
The slight slur of the man’s voice told Thomas he’d been drinking. Arguing with a drunk wouldn’t get him anywhere. Besides, he’d had too good a day to let a worthless excuse for a man steal that from him.
Thomas clicked his tongue and led his horse away. With his back turned, he waved a hand in the air.
14
Thomas bent near the broken mirror the Dawsons had left on the wall. He ran his hands through his long hair and over the coarse beard that covered his face. For months now he’d cowered behind it.
“No more hiding,” he said to the face in the mirror. Then, with dull scissors, he cut the scruff from his face and finished by sliding the edge of a razor back and forth until only the smooth skin remained.
From the bottom of his trunk, he pulled out a creased but otherwise perfectly preserved three-piece suit. Shaking it out, he felt a rush of memories. It had been tailor-made to perfectly fit the man he’d been. He pulled it on and the fabric clung to the muscles the land had awakened in him. The suit was the same, but he was different. Larger, stronger. He was changed. Inside he was not the man he’d been before either.
Once his tie was knotted, he stood back and looked at himself, struck again by both memories and realizations. He nearly tore the suit from his body, but the social meant hands for his farm and food for his stomach. It meant seeing Penny again. And he liked the idea of seeing her.
“You ready to go for a ride?” he asked his mare once he stepped into the barn.
She snorted and pranced in her stall.
In an effort to soothe her, he kept talking. “It’s hay and grain for you no matter where we are. But I’m aching for something other than my cooking to eat. You wouldn’t want me to starve, would you?”
The horse whinnied.
“I know. It doesn’t feel right going. Like I’m cheating somehow. I ask myself if it’s right for me to laugh or dance when Clara is not here dancing with me. But I can’t change that, and I can’t hide forever. I need men to help with the farm. Anyway, it’s been too long since I’ve seen Margaret. And there’s a newcomer who might be there. I could help her feel welcome.” He lied to the horse. Welcoming her was not his motive. Dancing with her and holding her in his arms was. Was that desire so wrong?
He gently put his hand on the horse’s neck, only to have her pull away. “You aren’t much of a friend.” He kept his voice smooth despite his growing impatience. “You think I’m wrong. That I ought to wallow in misery for the rest of my life. I read you the letter, the one from the girl at the dead letter office. If I’m still here, there’s work for me to do. Maybe I will even find some joy. Would you deny me that? Would you rather I live out my days waiting to die, and nothing more?”
The animal turned toward him.
“Of course you do. You may wish that upon me, but I like the plan where I find a bit of joy. If I’m alive, there’s a reason for it. Don’t you think I ought to look for that reason?” He reached for a handful of grain and offered it to the mare. “It’s not easy though.”
He hoped with time the mare would learn to like or at least tolerate his voice and his touch. When she finished eating, he pulled himself onto her back. “Let’s go. This is our home now. I think it’s best if we at least pretend to sink some roots in.”
Thomas rode across the rolling hills into town, fighting the mare’s stubborn nature the entire way. As a young boy, he’d learned to ride. By age eight he’d known how to move with the horse. But this mare was not willing to accept him, and so he bounced along, swaying and knocking about until at last they reached the hall.
He eagerly slid off the mare’s back and tethered her to a hitching post. “You stay out of trouble and I’ll do the same.” He patted her neck before walking away.
The closer Thomas came to the hall, the tighter his chest became. The memories of his last dance flooded back to him. Mere months ago he’d been in Alexandria and had attended the coming out dance of a wealthy businessman’s daughter.
“Clara’s over there,” the matron had whispered in his ear when he entered the decorated hall. “She will look lovely on your arm.”
He went to her then.
“Dance with me?” he asked, and she smiled up at him with her perfect smile.
“I’d be honored.”
Thomas stood outside the little Azure Springs hall, but there still was not enough air. He took a quick lap around the building to clear his head. He didn’t want to think of Clara and their days of dancing. He didn’t want to think of the way she had clung to his arm and followed his lead. He didn’t want to hurt. Not tonight. He wanted to be a different man, a better man. He wanted to pretend he had a future.
Hugh greeted him with a pat on the back. “You came. I hardly recognized you.” Then he gave him another pat. “You going in or going to spend the evening out here?”
Thomas shook his head. “No. I . . . I just haven’t danced in a long time. I was just about to go in.”
“No need to be nervous. The crowd’s fairly friendly. I’d hoped you’d come. I had no idea you’d shave and clean up.” He let out a low whistle. “It’s a good thing you came. If you hadn’t, the town would’ve started gossiping about the recluse in the old Dawson place. Trust me, you don’t want the town talking.”
“Come now, that wouldn’t have been all bad.”
Hugh shot him a crooked smile. “It looks like you nicked yourself with a razor.”
Thomas touched his freshly shaven jaw.
“It won’t make a difference. The ladies will be flocking to you.”
Suddenly, the three-piece suit and freshly shaven face didn’t seem lik
e such a good idea. “I don’t want any ladies after me.” He ran his hand back and forth along his jaw. “I thought we were supposed to clean up for a dance.”
His friend laughed. “We do our best to spiff up, but no one in town owns a suit that fine.” He pointed toward his mostly clean shirt and loose trousers. “You look like you’re headed to see the queen.”
“Seems I can’t win around here.”
Penny admired the garlands and flowers that adorned the simple whitewashed walls. The arrangements were bright local flowers with heather woven between them, giving the decor the perfect touch. Such detail. Such devotion. The sight of it all, the smell of the food—her senses jumped with excitement.
A long table ran along the back wall and upon it sat mountains of food. Mouthwatering, enticing food that smelled of home and love. And then she stopped. Her hand came to her heart.
Penny thought back to years ago when she would eat with her mother and father. Their cook, Cordilla, would serve them course after course. She breathed deeply, surprised by the memories flooding back to her. Memories of food and laughter. Memories of family. Of life before her father had died and everything had changed.
“You’re looking at that food as though you’ve never eaten before,” Margaret said.
“Your food has been delicious. Truly, it has. I’m not sure what I smell, but something here tonight smells like home. It smells of better days. That sounds silly.” Penny looked again at the table of food and inhaled the sweet aroma. “I was merely remembering.”
“When I hear the sound of the violin, I think of my late husband, Wyatt. I think God knows we need reminders from time to time. He wraps up a little blessing in a sound or a smell. A testament of his love. That smell, that memory is a gift for just you.” She reached for a molasses cookie. “He even knows how to touch my old heart. Molasses reminds me of my mother.”
“I did need it tonight.” She took in another deep breath, relishing the smell of the food. “I feel so out of place and confused. I’m unsure at times of why I’ve come here. I promised my father years ago I would enjoy life, and tonight I will do my best to feel that way.”
Yours Truly, Thomas Page 12