More Precious Than Gold

by Merry Farmer

  “C.J. Wick asked about you last week,” Gayle gave Louisa another squeeze, earning rolled eyes from Wren. “He wanted to know if you had decided to leave the Church too.”

  “What? No!” It was the one thing that could snap Louisa’s thoughts out of the bleak place they were stuck in. “Why would he think such a thing?”

  Again Gayle and Wren exchanged glances.

  “You weren’t at church last week,” Wren said and bit her lip. “Papa made an announcement. There’s going to be a meeting this week to talk about the disturbances in the Church.”

  “It’s getting worse,” Gayle added under her breath.

  “How could it possibly get any worse?”

  “Papa wants to talk to everyone in the congregation, to hear their concerns and find out what their views on the issues are. He wants to have a, well, a sort of friendly debate, I guess.”

  “It won’t be friendly.” Louisa shook her head. “How could it possibly be friendly?”

  “Papa will keep it friendly.”

  Louisa had to admire her friend’s complete faith in her father. Rev. McBride was a brilliant and respected man, but the emotions wrapped up in the issues facing the Church seemed far too large for him to mediate a discussion about them.

  “What does your farther hope to accomplish with this meeting?”

  Wren paused before taking a breath and answering, “He says he wants to find a way to keep the differences from splitting our congregation.”

  “He says he wants to?” Louisa pressed her.

  Wren finally had to admit defeat. “I think he wants to get an idea of whether we’ll be able to survive when the split does happen.”

  “But we have to survive.” Panic welled up in Louisa’s heart. “We have to—”

  She abruptly shut her mouth as Rowan, Jamie, and Andrew emerged from the humming crowd to join them. Hope and love and anger swirled together in Louisa’s chest, taking her breath away. Wren and Gayle were equally stunned.

  “Good morning, ladies.” Jamie gave them each his most charming smile, ending with a particularly long glance at Wren. “Didn’t you think that was a wonderful sermon?”

  “Yes, it was,” Wren sputtered, flushed and flustered.

  Jamie grinned, taking Wren’s reaction to him in stride. “I’ve never heard the story of Lazarus explained quite like that before,” he went on. “I must confess, I love this idea of correspondences that the New Church has. It opens up a whole new world of theology for me. But there’s so much I still have to learn. Would you mind answering a few questions for me Wren?”

  “Rowan could give you better answers,” Wren insisted.

  Jamie wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He slid to Wren’s side and hooked her arm around his so fast that she hardly had time to react.

  “I’ve bored Rowan senseless on the topic already,” he said. “And if there’s one other thing that I love about your church so much, it’s the duality of masculine and feminine, good and truth, love and wisdom. I’d love to hear your wisdom on the topic, a really good explanation of truth, as it were.”

  Wren was so stunned by his slippery words that he was able to walk her aside and into the crowd before she even thought of resisting. Both Louisa and Gayle watched the two of them walk off in complete amazement. Then Rowan stepped forward and offered his arm to Gayle. She blinked away from Wren and Jamie’s retreating backs to stare up at him. Her expression hardened into a suspicious frown. Rowan remained silent as he tilted his head and darted his eyes quickly to Andrew. Whatever else Gayle read in his eyes, Louisa would never know. But without a word of protest she smiled like the sun coming through the clouds and took Rowan’s arm, allowing him to lead her off without a word.

  Louisa’s mind buzzed with curiosity for her friends. Until she realized she was alone with Andrew.

  A tumble of thoughts rushed on her. What was he doing here? Had he plotted with his brother and friend to get her alone? Did she still look a mess from crying? Would someone try to interrupt them? Did she want to be interrupted or did she want to talk to him for hours? Her thoughts assaulted her so furiously that her hands trembled. She clutched her wadded handkerchief to her stomach to steady herself and tried to remember to breathe.

  “Louisa,” Andrew said, glancing down then around quickly to make sure they weren’t being observed too closely by anyone.

  “Andrew,” she answered. I’m sorry, please forgive me, she thought, then instantly contradicted herself by thinking, How could you be so cruel? “Wren says you moved?”

  Andrew blinked, derailed from whatever he’d planned to say.

  “Yes, I did.” A faint grin touched the corners of his mouth. “To an apartment above the soda shop.”

  “So Wren said.”

  It was far too easy to talk to him. She wanted to be angry with him still. The way he’d treated her should be unforgiveable, shouldn’t it?

  “Anytime you want to come over for vanilla ice cream with strawberry sauce,” he offered.

  A reluctant smile tickled Louisa’s lips before she tucked it away again.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  An awkward silence slipped between them. She didn’t know where to look. Every time her eyes wandered up to meet his, a jumble of emotions tied her in knots again. She hated being tied in knots.

  “Louisa, I’m sorry.” He took a half step closer to her and spoke barely above a whisper.

  A shimmer of heartache radiated out from her chest. He seemed so genuine, so gentle. And when he stood that close to her, she could smell the distinct, masculine scent that was him. It was not what she needed to feel if she was going to keep her head about her and her pride intact.

  “I forgive you,” she ground out the words.

  He wasn’t convinced.

  “I made some mistakes,” he went on, reaching carefully toward her hand. He drew back just as quickly, glancing around as if he had just remembered that they were surrounded by friends and family. “And I didn’t make some mistakes.”

  The clutch of emotion in Louisa’s gut froze and she glanced up at him, puzzled. What was that supposed to mean?

  “I—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” he cut her off, “but I just want to say two things. I know it will take time, and I’m working on it.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, to explain his odd comments. Confusion had knocked everything she thought she would feel in this moment haywire.

  “All right,” she said to fill the space. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. He didn’t add anything. “You’re working on it,” she repeated.

  “Yes,” he answered her and broke into an unexpectedly genuine smile.

  “Okay.”

  Again there was silence. As hopelessly lost as Louisa felt, she was no longer afraid or angry.

  “That’s it,” he told her, leaning closer and winking.

  “Um … thank you for telling me?”

  She had no idea how she was supposed to react to this moment. Her life hovered in limbo.

  “Jamie and I are taking the boats out for our trial fishing expedition this week,” he went on as though it were any other Sunday and nothing out of the ordinary had passed between them. He placed a hand on her back and steered her toward the long table of refreshments against the far wall.

  His touch felt so natural it was uncomfortable.

  “Really?” She made small talk as best she could.

  What was going on? Shouldn’t everything be odd and awkward? Shouldn’t he have a hard time looking at her, let alone talking to her?

  “We’re going to be out a little longer than usual this time. We want to see how the boats handle in deep water, as well as how the nets work.”

  They wound their way through chatting people. Louisa returned the nods and smiles that other members of the society gave her with as pleasant a look as she could manage. Andrew kept on talking.

  “If everything goes well, we’ll come back with a large haul
of fish to sell to the distributors.”

  “That’s good.” She tried to wrap her exhausted mind around the concept of commercial fishing.

  “It is good. It’s the first step to a healthy business empire.”

  In spite of her desire to trust him, suspicion crept into her thoughts. It was always about the business. Was he telling her about his hoped-for success so that he could impress her into marrying him? Or perhaps he was subtly letting her know that his future wealth would put him too far above her to worry about any more proposals. The mental gymnastics of it all was giving her a headache. She didn’t want to think about or worry about his intentions anymore. She just wanted to go home, pack her things, and admit defeat.

  Before she knew it, Andrew was handing her a glass of punch and walking her to the other side of the room, where her friends had gathered. Jamie had managed to work Wren into a high pique in the short time that he had been with her. Wren’s cheeks were red and her back was as stiff as stone. Whatever the nature of the argument, Rowan wasn’t helping out at all, and Gayle just kept peeking back and forth between Wren and Jamie with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

  Louisa tried to catch on to the thread of the conversation and to figure out what had Wren so upset, but between her increasingly throbbing head and the general confusion of the day, she ended up contenting herself with nodding carefully and keeping quiet.

  It was a blessing when the scattered conversations throughout the room began to disperse. She could have cried in relief when Henry approached their group and laid a hand on her back.

  “Mother’s ready to go,” he whispered in her ear. “Joe Cleveland has offered to drive us home, since the rain looks like it’s not going to let up.”

  “You should come home with us.” Gayle pretended as though Henry had spoken to them all. “To Cliff House, I mean. You should come too, Henry.” She flashed her brightest smile.

  Gayle’s flirtatious glance at her brother decided the matter.

  “I would, but honestly, I have a terrible headache. It must be the rain.”

  Louisa glanced at Andrew out of the corner of her eyes. He was determinedly looking off toward the front of the makeshift church where his mother was supervising his youngest siblings in clearing away the altar. She didn’t know if she was relieved or vexed that he wasn’t paying attention to her. Heaven help her. She couldn’t make up her mind about anything anymore.

  “I think I’ll just go home and take a nap,” she finished.

  Henry jumped right in to support her. “I’m going to walk mother out to the carriage with my umbrella. I’ll come back for you.”

  He gave her hand a quick squeeze, then dodged off toward the barn door.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Jamie offered out of the blue.

  Wren and Gayle gawked in surprise, and Rowan blinked. Even Andrew shifted his glance from his mother to his friend with a confused frown.

  “Thank you, Jamie.” Louisa hoped her reply didn’t sound too much like a sigh of relief.

  She sidestepped to put her half-empty punch glass on a nearby table, then took his arm as soon as he offered it. He pulled her away from the others to the stand full of umbrellas by the door.

  Without preamble he pulled a large black umbrella out of the stand and opened it into the rain. He took Louisa’s arm and pulled her outside under the shelter of the umbrella. The rain was coming down in sheets now. She could hardly see the drive in front of the Clevelands’ house where the carriages were parked, and she was forced to squeeze closer to Jamie than she ever would have dreamed of doing otherwise. Strangely enough, it wasn’t at all awkward being so close to him.

  “All right,” he began boldly as soon as a heavy blanket of rain separated them from the barn, and from everyone and everything else. “I know that Andrew and Wren and Gayle and probably all the rest of the McBrides have a grand scheme that they’re intent on sticking to where you and Andrew are concerned, but I’m not in on it.”

  “What?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that.”

  For a moment Louisa’s mouth hung open and her head pounded. She was through with all of the intrigue. It wasn’t like any of them.

  “I wish that someone would please just tell me what’s going on,” Louisa said. “I know Wren and Gayle aren’t telling me something, and I couldn’t make heads or tails out of a thing Andrew said to me.”

  The flash in Jamie’s eyes was an odd relief to her, almost as if he wasn’t taking this seriously.

  “Everyone wants you and Andrew to get married, of course.”

  The knot in Louisa’s stomach clenched tighter.

  “I wish they wouldn’t.” She sighed and shut her eyes over the pain in her head.

  “Why not? Andrew is a fantastic man and a great friend. You’re very well matched.”

  “We are not.” She opened her eyes and frowned at him. Frustration boiled in her and for once she felt it was safe to share. “I wish they would all just let it go and realize that the way things are now I am miles below Andrew. He’s going to be a fishing tycoon, apparently—”

  “Tycoon,” Jamie repeated the word with relish.

  “—and I’ll either be a seamstress working in a factory, or a governess or something in England. They need to just let whatever is going to happen happen, and not build false hope by pretending otherwise.”

  Jamie laughed. If it had been anyone else she would have given him a piece of her mind. But there was something different about James Darling, something that made her wonder if he knew something she didn’t.

  “You’re too hard on yourself, Louisa White. And you seem to be blind to all of your wonderful qualities.”

  “What wonderful qualities?” she scoffed, lowering her head and watching the water soak the hem of her dress.

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Jamie shook his head.

  He turned to her. With so little space under the umbrella, his nose was about eight inches from hers.

  “You’re one of the brightest women I’ve ever met for one,” he told her with the same sort of indignant scolding she would have expected from her brother. Or Wren. “You’ve got the strength of Samson, before his nasty haircut.”

  A grin tweaked its way onto Louisa’s lips in spite of herself. She forced it into grim submission.

  “I most certainly do not.”

  He arched and eyebrow and fixed her with a frank stare. “Do you think that you’re worthless because your pockets are a little bare at the moment?”

  The way he put it, the way his eyes held a frank combination of fondness and scolding, made her blush with shame.

  “It’s what life has taught me,” she answered.

  “Ah yes,” he grinned. “Life. And you’re how old? Eighteen?”

  “I’ll be nineteen in November,” she muttered, knowing it was a poor argument.

  “Well I’m twenty-six,” he countered, shifting the handle of the umbrella to his other hand. “I was born to an unwed mother in a filthy slum in a terrible corner of New York City. My mother died when I was nine. Since then I’ve been homeless three times. I’ve worked in factories and on boats since before I was legally old enough to be doing any of it. I’ve seen things that you can’t even imagine, Louisa. I don’t want you to imagine them. I don’t want you to ever know.

  “But here I am now. Andrew McBride is my best friend. He’s a good, hardworking man who saw another man trying to be good and befriended him. In spite of the fact that I had only two shirts and one pair of shoes with holes in them. In spite of the fact that I lived in a shack down by the docks. Andrew never blinked once at the condition I was in. And personally, I think that has something to do with what I’ve been discovering in that barn over there for the past several Sundays. He never once bothered with my externals, as your lovely Church would call them. He saw the good inside me. So while you’re practicing giving yourself the credit you deserve, give him some credit too. He loves you.”

  Louisa listened
to Jamie’s story with growing awe and respect for the man Jamie was. But when he finished by telling her Andrew loved her, the twist of anger flared in her heart again.

  “He does not love me.” She frowned and pushed her glasses up her damp nose. She would have walked away if Jamie hadn’t been the one holding the umbrella.

  He laughed again. “Are you sure those glasses help you see? Because as far as I can tell you’re not noticing the obvious.”

  Louisa’s cheeks flared red and she glanced away.

  “Then why hasn’t he told me?”

  Jamie paused and shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe he needs glasses too. As far as I’m concerned a man should tell a woman he loves her every chance he gets.”

  “So when was the last time you told Wren?” Louisa rushed to turn the tables on him. She instantly regretted her words. “I’m so sorry.”

  If Jamie was bothered by her outburst, he didn’t let on. In fact, his eyes twinkled with mirth.

  “I’m waiting to declare myself to Wren until I’m sure she won’t throw something at me for my insolence.”

  Louisa crossed her arms and stared hard at him.

  “How quickly those of us in glass houses rush to throw stones,” Jamie laughed.

  They started toward the drive again, slightly faster this time.

  When the silence drew on too long she sighed and said, “I appreciate your help and advice, Jamie, I really do. But I’m too tired to do anything about it now. It’s hopeless. That’s all there is to it. I’m going to have to move to England and nothing will stop that.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know it. So if you could pass the word along to everyone to please stop pressing things that just aren’t meant to happen, I would be grateful.”

  Jamie didn’t answer. Instead he raised a dark eyebrow at her again and switched hands on the umbrella handle to hold it more fully over her head.

  “You still owe me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “For fixing the tire on your bicycle. You still owe me a favor.”

  A tickle of dread slipped down Louisa’s spine.

  “I do,” she admitted.

  Jamie nodded at her good sense in admitting it.