“You are lucky to have a husband who allows you to travel with me and roam barefoot, sister.” John winked at April, but I believed he also meant for me to see. After all, we had known each other since we were mere babes. Their family gave us references to gain employment and keep us in society.
April poked her brother’s lapel. “You need a barefoot wife.”
I looked toward Mother to hide the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Had I been left an inheritance or had the means, John might’ve been able to propose to me the previous year. But, he went to work in the ports of San Francisco to earn his own wealth, while I was left in Sacramento, toiling beside Anna and Mother with only our needles to scrape by. My solace rested in the news that he was not betrothed, according to April’s weekly letters.
“April.” I knew John’s terse warning. He had never declared or promised me anything, but it never stopped her from playing matchmaker since our schooldays.
“John.” She was a force to be reckoned. Mr. Bettis must have had his hands full after four months of marriage. “Robin?” April leaned into my shoulder. “Who is that strange creature with a blue beard sitting with your mother?”
Behind us, John snorted. “A man for solitude, with that affliction.”
His answer made my rancor rise. I squared my shoulders. “That is Mr. Meyer, owner of the Suss Mining Company.”
John’s hummed response let me know that he recognized the company’s reputation.
“We recently made his acquaintance, just today. And while an unfortunate accident did taint his beard, I assure you that his manners are not untoward.”
As I made my proclamation, Mr. Meyer looked up and tipped his hat to me. I hoped John saw. Served him right, acting so rudely to a man he did not even know.
“My, my.” April kissed my cheek and goosepimples raced down each of my arms. “I do believe you have a rival, my dear brother.”
I desperately wanted to turn, to see if my beloved was upset by my comments. Were his brown eyes looking at the ribbons in my hair, wondering if his sister was correct? Or was he twisting the end of his mustache in contemplation?
Across the lawn, Mr. Meyer helped Mother to her feet and escorted her to the refreshment table. He deposited her into a collection of friends and then made his way to my little group, balancing two small cups.
I heard John rise to his feet. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Good afternoon. I brought some refreshments for the ladies.” Mr. Meyer knelt and made his offerings. “Miss King.”
“Please allow me to introduce my dearest friend, Mrs. Bettis.”
April nodded her head.
“And her brother, Mr. Hastings.”
John snapped his hand out once Mr. Meyer was upright. “A pleasure.”
I continued, “Mr. Meyer recently arrived to Sacramento.” The air felt tense as the men shook hands, as though I’d pulled a stitch too tight and the thread would break. I focused my attention on the newcomer. “I have known Mr. Hastings and Mrs. Bettis my entire life.”
“We grew up chasing each other in the creek.” John awkwardly fanned his face with his top hat, though he was outright staring at the ghastly-colored beard. “Now what sort of fashion is that, Mr. Meyer? Some new idea you brought with you from across the ocean?”
I was mortified at John’s forthrightness and wished he would simply hop onto his horse and ride away. This wasn’t the man I grew up with—the one who brought me flowers when Father died and held my hand in the crook of his elbow before he boarded the stagecoach months ago. How could John be so inconsiderate to our guest?
Mr. Meyer chuckled and stroked the wiry, blue hair. “As I told Miss King earlier, my dog upset my glass of blueberry cordial. The cook suggested lye, and now I am a distinguished man.” He laughed again, and the gold pocket chain watch swished back and forth. What a lovely disposition—to be able to find humor at your own folly! John should learn from Mr. Meyer. John was always a sore loser.
Mother and Anna joined us in our little shade, their cheeks flushed. Anna flipped the fan to cool their faces and gracefully took a sip from my cup.
A rogue, hot gust nearly toppled Mother, sending her into Mr. Meyer’s side. “Oh my stars. This wind is enough to blow me clean off my feet.”
Mr. Meyer assisted her back to the Jacobs’ porch, and Anna clasped my arm as we followed. He patiently waited while she settled onto a chair. Anna fetched a cool, wet rag while I fanned Mother.
“Thank you, Mr. Meyer.” A bead of sweat rolled from my forehead. I must’ve appeared disheveled, my limp brown hair losing its curls and stuck to my cheeks. “I believe we’ve overstayed our visit and need to make our way home.”
“Can I be of some assistance? Let me fetch your carriage.”
If my cheeks weren’t burning from the heat, they were on fire with embarrassment. “We don’t live that far.” I cleared my throat and pumped the fan, hoping the air would cool my face.
Mother kept her eyes closed, but I saw them move underneath her lids. I wasn’t sure if those were tears or sweat at the corners of her eyes. It had been difficult to accept charity that year, but we had to live. Walking to and fro was a way of life. Selling Father’s horse had allowed us to rent rooms at a respectable hotel since we were seamstresses, not farmers.
“Allow me to call for my man to take you home.” Mr. Meyer’s hand brushed my elbow. I looked to him and he continued. “Please, Miss King. It would be my honor to assist you.”
Just over his shoulder, John watched our exchange. He met my gaze, and I felt cold fingers creep up my spine, despite the heat. One of John’s eyebrows twitched. I knew those eyes. I’d seen them a thousand times and more for nineteen years. He was disappointed.
“Miss King?” Mr. Meyer twisted to see where I was looking, only to see John tip his hat in our direction before leaving the porch. “Please excuse my ignorance. I did not know that you were previously engaged to be escorted home.”
“No, no,” I said. “We walked here unaccompanied and planned on returning the same way.”
“Then please accept my carriage. Your mother is unwell, and I fear for her safety.” His pronunciation of “muzzer” was charming, no matter if my stockings were glued to my calves.
Mr. Meyer saw us home, helping Mother to her room. There was an uncomfortable silence. My sister and I hardly knew how to show our gratitude, unused to such attentions.
“Are you sure I cannot send my doctor?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” I said before I curtsied. Had he not given us a lift, Mother would have needed the physician. “She will be fine once she rests.”
He squeezed the top hat stowed under his arm and took my hand. “Until we meet again, Miss King.” When he placed a kiss on my knuckles and departed, I was not even bothered by his forwardness. In fact, I rubbed the place his lips touched with my thumb, hoping that we were reunited soon.
The next week, he accompanied us to church and a picnic. We even happened upon him on an evening walk to the river and back.
It didn’t take long for Mother to hold back Anna on the occasions we were all together. Mr. Meyer offered his arm, and I accepted. He was generally in good spirits and told me of his journey across the continent. But, the mining company kept him busy, and I found myself missing his company when he was away for more than a day or two. He brightened my days more than April’s letters.
A blessed breeze cooled my shoulders. I was in awe of the delicate lace on the neckline, trailing down the silk bodice. It was not my stitching, but the craftsmanship was impeccable. Even my gloves were daintier than I’d ever imagined to own. Pink roses crowded my one hand and I smoothed my dress with my other.
“Quit fidgeting,” Mother whispered, adjusting my waistline. Her purple silk dress was the first color she’d worn in over a year.
“I cannot help it.”
“You must.” She turned me by the shoulders until we were nearly nose to nose. Unshed tears swelled in her eyes. “You are so
very beautiful, Robin-girl.”
We did not have to say it—we missed Father and wished he could be there to present me as a bride. Instead, Mother clutched me tightly. I didn’t want to leave her and Anna, but Mr. Meyer had promised that we would be together soon.
“Your sash is perfect,” Anna said. “I hope Mr. Meyer will be entertained by our humor.”
I eyed the blue satin. “I am certain he will.” Even though his beard had long outgrown the cordial stain, he still teased me that once we were married, he would dye it again, to be my “distinguished” husband.
“Marry in September’s shine, your living will be rich and fine. White, you’ve chosen right and blue, your love will be true.” Anna hummed and pecked me on the cheek. “Best wishes, my sweet sister.”
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a lucky sixpence in your shoe.” I double-checked myself in the cloudy mirror. Father’s handkerchief was tucked against the roses. A new circlet of pearls rested on my neck. Mother lent me her own sixpence.
My family hustled away, leaving me in solitude. This was not the bridegroom I had dreamt of growing up. That man was far away, though his sister was already seated at the ceremony. But, I had no reason to deny Mr. Meyer’s attentions. Mother and Anna would be cared for, their futures secured.
That day, I would become Mrs. Bluebeard, as Anna said in private. I had to leave childish dreams in the past. No more romps in the creeks, no idle company to watch the sunsets.
It was time to grow up.
I stepped into the doorway and toward my new life.
Chapter 2
NO ONE WOULD dare deny Mr. Meyer’s generosity to me. Not only did he move Anna and Mother into a fine house near the Hastings for their comfort, but his thoughtfulness extended to me ten-fold. I clutched his arm as he guided my tour through our home, a mere hour-long carriage drive from Sacramento and my family.
“Dees lamp,” he said, stopping under a grand light in the dining room, “Comes from New York. Only use paraffin oil, my beloved.” Wilhelm slipped his arm to my waist as we gazed upwards. “I know you are not used to this, so I’ve instructed Cook to assist you.”
Of course, he was right. Our tallow candles left soot lines on the walls and ghastly, dark rings on the ceilings of our rented rooms. Not to mention, the smell. The Hastings only used the beeswax candles for special occasions, such as April’s wedding party.
“I will take special care to follow Mrs. Mason’s directions,” I said.
“And Michael will also be able to help.”
The servant stacked firewood in the next room. Michael was tall, with arms as round as a willow tree. But for all of his kindness, he would always be cast out of society for the stutter that kept him mostly mute.
“Thank you, Wilhelm.” I turned and kissed his cheek. He enjoyed affection. In fact, I had found if I withheld my reactions from him, it often provoked him to irritation. How could I not try to please him when he provided my family with such consolation?
“My dear, only the best for you.” He continued through each room and corridor, pointing out particulars he had helped design or chose. His dog, Hund, always stayed within Wilhelm’s reach, nails clicking on the floors.
We stopped in the kitchen. Mrs. Mason was dusted to her elbows in flour. My stomach grumbled when she turned the dough over and dropped it into a bowl. She covered it with a towel and bobbed a curtsy. Wilhelm required both of his servants to acknowledge his presence. It was still difficult for me to not correct them. I didn’t mind if she continued to work—I knew what it was like to lose the rising for the bread.
“Mrs. Mason. How is the new floor?” He leaned down and slapped the slate with an open palm.
Although I felt like we had imposed, I smiled politely.
She nodded again, her brown hair escaping her cap. “Yes, sir. It helps keep everything nice and cool.”
“Good, good.” Wilhelm’s voice bounced off of the stone floor. The following summer, I imagined sneaking into the kitchen on a hot day to cool off my feet. I pondered how Mrs. Mason’s knees felt after scrubbing this floor and decided to offer my assistance the next time it came up.
“Now, I must go prepare some business documents.” He pulled me out, toward his office. “I hope you will make this as much as your home as it is mine.” Both of Wilhelm’s hands grasped my waist. “But there is one thing you must promise me.”
“Anything.”
“You must not venture into the basement.”
“Yes, of course.”
He pulled my chin up so that we were looking at one another. His mustache tucked down, matching his eyebrows. “Never go into the basement. The keys to the entire house hang right inside my office, but that door is to always remain locked.”
I said nothing, but nodded. He had never looked so determined, save for the moment he recited his vows. His words twisted my stomach until his mustache tickled my forehead.
“The mail will post in two days. You should prepare letters for Michael to take.”
Our lives strung into days of waiting for Wilhelm’s business letters and my own from April and Anna. I was overjoyed when my best friend surprised me with news that she and her husband would be moving to Sacramento by mid-October. I could make visits to see everyone!
My happiness made me fly down the stairs, April’s letter flapping in the air, and into Wilhelm’s office. “My love!” I said, coming through the doorway.
His desk was vacant.
Behind me, at the end of the hallway, hinges squeaked. Wilhelm pushed the basement door closed, and a heavy lock thudded into place when he turned the key. Hund lay at the doorway, head down. Wilhelm didn’t seem startled to see me watching him. No words passed from his lips while he hung the iron keys. I was nervous when he lowered himself into the leather chair, the only sound was the protesting springs.
“My dear, Mrs. Bettis and her husband are settling in Sacramento.” I limply offered the letter for him to see.
“How long were you watching me?”
I pulled the paper back to my chest. “I’d only just come into your office when you closed the―”
“How long!” Wilhelm’s shout made me step back until my calves hit the chair behind me. Hund simply pushed into my skirts and laid down near the desk.
“Only a moment. You shut the door and turned the key.” My lungs burned like the time I’d slipped into the creek as a girl, and my skirts caught on a rock. “That is all, husband.”
He toyed with a small knife on the edge of his desk. Slowly, ever so slowly, he looked up to me. “Swear to me,” he growled.
Reverend Kent would have been thoroughly disappointed if he ever knew, but I repeated Wilhelm’s order. “I swear.”
He stood and came around the desk. April’s letter was the only thing between me and my furious husband. I closed my eyes and flinched when he caressed my cheek.
“No need to fear me, wife.” His lips grazed my nose. “Tell me about Mrs. Bettis.”
I recounted April’s message and dates.
He stroked his short, now white, beard. “I must attend business in town next week. Please write her a response, and I will deliver it myself.”
Although I desperately wanted to ask to go with him, I simply nodded and returned to my rooms to pen a letter. With shaking fingers, I poured my loneliness across the page. I missed Mother and Anna. We’d talk for hours in the rooms while we sewed. The silence of Wilhelm’s magnificent house was almost too loud, at times.
Even after Wilhelm departed with Hund, I felt as though he was watching me. I spent the week avoiding the hallway and his office. Mrs. Mason allowed me to make biscuits when I promised her that I wouldn’t tell Mr. Meyer. Michael showed me where the gardening tools were kept and often checked while I worked in the dirt.
It was an uneventful afternoon when Michael tore into the yard on horseback. He leapt from the saddle as soon as I had hold of the reins. “M-m-m-m-m-m-m,” he repeated, until he s
lapped his own cheek. “Mr. M-m-m-m-m …”
“Mr. Meyer?” I touched his elbow.
He nodded and pointed back down the direction which he came.
“Oh, Mr. Meyer is coming?”
Michael’s grin spread wide over his gaping teeth. He tried to speak again and became frustrated with the stuck sounds. Mrs. Mason joined us and translated through Michael’s hand motions. “Your ma is coming, too.”
I hugged them both to keep from crying tears of joy. Shucking my work apron, I ran to the house to wash up and change. As the mistress of the house, I needed to make sure everything was exactly right. Pots clanged into one another from the kitchen as Mrs. Mason hurried to prepare more food. Chairs scraped the floor as Michael tidied the rooms. Once I changed into Wilhelm’s favorite dress, a white silk with tiny embroidered roses, I rushed to each of the empty bedrooms to open the windows and air them out. It was from my favorite room, the one with a soft, blue bedcover, that I spied the carriage, dust billowing high into the air.
Waiting on the porch until the horses stopped, I smoothed my hair. I carefully made my way to Wilhelm, who stepped out first. I tried to force myself not to run, but couldn’t help it when Mother climbed down. We were squeezing one another when Anna added herself to our embrace. When another set of arms encircled my shoulders, I looked up to see April!
After we all settled into the house, I slipped my hand into my husband’s. “Thank you.”
“Your joy is what I live for, my dear.” His kiss, in front of my family, made my cheeks burn.
The next day, Wilhelm delivered his bad news to me, in the privacy of his office. “I must go to the mine and then on several trips for zee, no, the, business. I will be gone for some time. My Robin, this is why I have brought your family, so you will not be lonely.”
“You are the finest husband a woman could have.”
Again, he spun the tiny knife on the corner of the desk, its tip drilling into the wood. “You have everything you need. Supplies will be ordered by Cook. Michael will see to everything else.” His dark eyes shot up. “Just know that you must stay out of the basement. It is forbidden.”
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