Rose thought she felt him relaxing, but by such a small fraction that she wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking. She combed out his thick black forelock and gazed into his eyes.
“Monday, April ninth,” she whispered. “We only have three weeks left.” She loved the warm breath from his nostrils. “Please, Star, trust me not to harm you.”
She’d have to try again to show Star that someone in the saddle didn’t have to mean harsh treatment. Instead of tugging the reins, it would be so much better to direct him with properly placed, gentle pressure from her legs. Of course, that couldn’t be done sidesaddle. Rose sighed. She’d have to get the divided skirt from the back of her closet. She couldn’t possibly let anyone see her in it! But if she changed at the stable and back again before she left, no one would know, except Kat, Amanda, and Lizabeth if they came by.
After school the next afternoon, Rose was heading home to pick up the divided skirt when she saw Amanda and Hannah ahead of her on William McKinley Road. They were going toward Lighthouse Lane. Should she hurry to catch up and walk with them? She was so uncertain. Even after Rose’s outburst in the tower, Amanda had continued to be friendly, but maybe that was just her gentle, well-mannered way. Maybe she thought Rose was too peculiar….
Hannah was lagging behind; Amanda stopped and turned back.
“Rose!” Amanda waved. “Aren’t you going to the stables?”
“Not until later. I have to stop at home first.”
“Oh, good, then we can walk together! How’s Star?”
“About the same,” Rose said.
“I’ll bring an apple for him when I come Thursday,” Amanda said.
“Me, too,” Hannah piped up. “I love horses! I love Nellie the best!”
Amanda smiled. “You’ve made Kat horse-crazy, too.” “She hasn’t come by very much,” Rose said cautiously.
“That’s because of her gift wrap. Didn’t she tell you? Last week, she finally finished a last-minute order for Easter.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“So cute, with little rabbits in all different colors. I guess you didn’t see them. You haven’t been up to the tower in a while.”
“Well, I’ve been busy with Star. And then homework and—”
“Can I run ahead?” Hannah asked.
“May I,” Amanda corrected.
“May I,” Hannah echoed. “Well…can I run or not?”
Amanda laughed. “All right.”
They watched Hannah streak away.
“Rose, what’s wrong?” Amanda asked.
“Nothing.” Rose shrugged. Then, finally, “Kat’s…um…different. Is she angry with me?”
“No. She decided she doesn’t blame you.”
“Blame me for what?” Rose asked.
“Well, I might as well go ahead and say it.” Amanda sighed. “We’ve all noticed that you don’t want to invite us over. And then, when Kat wasn’t invited to that tea and it was canceled so fast…Well, she thought it was because of your mother.”
For a horrible moment, Rose couldn’t breathe. “My mother?”
“You and Kat were becoming so close and…well, Kat thought maybe your mother didn’t like that because your father’s a doctor and hers is just the lighthouse keeper.”
“No! That’s not true!” Rose said. “She’s wrong!”
“But Kat decided it’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for how your mother feels. But you know, Kat loves her father more than anything and her pride was really hurt.”
“She’s so wrong!” Rose said. “My mother’s not like that!”
Amanda looked at her curiously. “We don’t really know what your mother’s like.”
“She’s not a snob! Not at all! Please, tell Kat—”
“I think you’ll have to tell her yourself,” Amanda said.
Rose sighed. How could she explain? What could she say?
They had reached Amanda’s cottage. Hannah bounced inside, and the door slammed behind her.
“Oh, look,” Rose said. There was a bouquet on Amanda’s doorstep, a bunch of pussy willows held together by a bedraggled ribbon. Hannah had just missed stepping on it.
Amanda picked it up and bit her lip.
“Is there a note?” Rose asked.
Amanda shook her head. “I know who it’s from. At the barn dance last fall, I told Jed I love pussy willows even if they’re not flowers….” She turned the bouquet-around and around in her hand. “He remembered.” Her eyes were suddenly shiny with tears.
“Amanda, what is it? Aren’t you glad that he—”
“I don’t know what to do! That night, we danced together all evening, from the Virginia reel all the way to ‘Good Night, Ladies,’ and we talked and—it was so wonderful! The very best evening of my life!”
“Well, then why aren’t you happy?”
“Father didn’t notice. But later Mrs. White mentioned it to him and he said it was improper for me to dance with the same boy all evening. That I shouldn’t have done that. And he’s told me I’m too young to even think of courting, not until I’m sixteen, at least close to marriageable age. I want to please Father more than anything in the world and I don’t ever want to disappoint him. But I’m only thirteen, Rose! Does that mean I can’t see Jed at all?”
“I don’t know.” Rose was touched by the misery in Amanda’s eyes. “Maybe…maybe you could see Jed sometimes. Would your father have to know?”
“I can’t do that! I won’t go against his wishes. And Rose, the worst part…” Amanda was suddenly blushing. “I held hands with Jed,” she whispered. “Just for a little while, when we were walking. And then I read in the Ladies Home Journal that hand-holding was improper unless you’re officially engaged! I’m the minister’s daughter and I need to set a good example and I’m failing miserably!”
“You’re not, Amanda! You take care of Hannah so cheerfully, without any complaints ever, and you keep house and—”
“I keep thinking about Jed.” Amanda’s eyes were downcast. “I don’t mean to, but I do. I miss my mother so, now more than ever.”
“Amanda, I’m sorry.”
“Lizabeth looks down on Jed because he’s just a deckhand and Kat never cares about what’s proper, but I have to talk to someone! I thought you, coming from New York City and all, you’d know about boys and flirting.”
“I don’t know anything about boys.” Momma would be the perfect person to advise Amanda, Rose thought, but of course that would be impossible!
“I have to prepare Hannah’s snack.” Amanda fingered the bouquet nervously and a soft gray bud fell to the ground. “I don’t know what to do with this.” She sighed. “Well, see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Rose crossed Lighthouse Lane. She opened the front door of her house and started up the stairs to her bedroom. Momma’s voice was coming from the parlor and the words Rose heard made her stop short.
“And then there were two absolutely burly policemen, holding me by each arm…” Momma’s lighthearted laughter was punctuated by the sound of tinkling teacups. “And they actually handcuffed me! Can you imagine? Miranda Forbes, dangerous criminal on the loose!”
Rose’s face became red-hot. What was Momma doing? Who was she talking to? Rose crept down a few steps to take a peek. Mrs. Cornell, the owner of the Pelican Book Shop, and another lady she didn’t recognize were sitting on the sofa. This was Rose’s worst nightmare come true!
“And they actually dragged me from the parade and arrested me and charged me with assault, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest!” Momma’s carefree laugh pealed again. “Oh, and indecent exposure because of my bloomers! It wasn’t funny while it was happening, I was too furious, but now, after the fact…”
Rose sank down on the stairs and buried her head in her arms. She couldn’t face it! Momma was revealing everything!
Did she think she was entertaining them? Now everyone in Cape Light would talk about their worst secret. What would
Lizabeth, Amanda, and Kat think? And Mrs. Williams? And Reverend Morgan? Mrs. Merchant? Her teachers? It was all too horrible to imagine! The Forbes family might as well pack up and leave right now! How could Momma do this to her? Again!
Rose had exactly the same horrible, stomach-turning sensation that had engulfed her when she’d read the article on page seven of the New York Daily Mirror last November.
“…the spitfire wife of well-known physician Dr. Merrill Forbes…suffragette parade along Lexington Avenue…With sharp raps of her umbrella, Mrs. Forbes injured two gentlemen bystanders along the parade route…overnight in a holding cell at the precinct until Dr. Forbes arrived to collect his combative lady…”
Rose heard footsteps, good-byes, and finally the front door opening and closing. She ran down the stairs in a fury.
“Rosie? I didn’t hear you come home,” Mother called.
“Of course you didn’t! You were too busy spilling all the family secrets!”
“Oh, you mean—” Momma came to the foot of the stairs. “Mrs. Cornell and Mrs. Lancaster were here. Have you met them yet? Why didn’t you come into the parlor?”
“Because I was too ashamed to face them!” She just couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “How could you? How could you tell? Now it will be all over Cape Light!”
“Mrs. Cornell and Mrs. Lancaster are my best friends here, and are completely sympathetic to the suffragist movement. In fact, Mrs. Cornell is going to join me in—”
“I’ll be completely humiliated! And Poppa, too! Everyone will know!”
“I absolutely trust Mrs. Cornell and Mrs. Lancaster not to gossip.” Momma extended her arm toward Rose. “Don’t you give me any credit for common sense, Rosie?”
“No!” Rose was red-faced. “I’ve done everything I could—everything—to keep people from…from knowing about you and now you…. Oh, what’s the use!”
“If you’re embarrassed by me, that’s too bad!” Now Momma’s eyes were blazing, too. “I’m not planning to shout it from the rooftops, but I’m not the least ashamed of anything I’ve done. If you care to remember, I was defending myself against—”
“I don’t care to hear it again!” Rose’s voice was cutting. She’d heard the story before, and too many times at that.
She could recite Momma’s excuses in her sleep: Yes, thousands of men had lined the parade route to jeer at the suffragists. Yes, many of these men had been drinking quite a lot. Yes, some of them thought these liberated and bloomered women were inviting physical contact. Yes, the police officers had little experience with such unladylike behavior and they didn’t protect the women properly. And yes, when two of the men along the route poked and prodded Momma, she whacked them soundly with her umbrella.
“Whether you want to hear it or not, I have nothing to apologize for,” Momma said. “It was lucky I had the umbrella with me. That cut scalp—I believe it needed several stitches—and that black eye were richly deserved!”
“If you hadn’t been parading in the first place,” Rose said, “none of it would have happened. ‘Spitfire wife!’ ‘Combative lady’! I don’t see how Poppa could hold his head up after the newspapers ran the story!” It enraged Rose that Poppa, instead of putting a strict stop to Momma’s activities after that awful incident, said he was proud of her courage!
“I can’t believe a daughter of mine cares more about what people think than about what’s right! The right to vote matters and you have to be willing to take risks for—”
“It doesn’t matter to me! I don’t care. You’re ruining my life!” Rose shouted. “I wish I had a normal mother like everyone else!”
Momma’s eyes widened and Rose bit her lip. She knew she had gone too far.
They stared at each other in silence over the stairs that separated them. Rose gripped the banister.
Then Momma said, her voice even and very low, “You are a huge disappointment to me, Rose. A huge disappointment.”
There we are, Rose thought. I’m not the daughter she wanted and I never will be. I don’t care about politics or voting and I care too much about what people think to ever run around in bloomers! Finally it’s out. The plain, awkward daughter with the Forbes nose is a huge disappointment.
Rose knew that she had to get away before she exploded. To Star and the stable! She grabbed the divided skirt from her room and ran from the house.
eleven
Rose leaned against the side of the stall as Star finished munching oats from his bucket. At least he wasn’t waiting for her to leave before he ate. That was something, she supposed, though not very much.
Everything possible was going wrong. Star was still a frozen horse she couldn’t reach. Her fresh start in Cape Light had turned sour—from an explanation she didn’t know how to give to Kat, to the story about Momma that might be all over town in a day. The thought of Momma’s words made her wince. Rose wished Poppa were home. She believed Poppa loved her, but she wasn’t even sure of that anymore. If she was such a huge disappointment to her own mother, why would anyone else care for her?
“Oh Star…Star.” Rose put her arms around the horse’s neck. She was so all alone, she needed comfort from any warm body, even from a horse that shrank from her. Well, no, he wasn’t moving away so much right at this moment. “Star, what am I going to do?”
She combed his mane and his forelock. She concentrated on what she was doing and tried to empty her mind but the lump in her throat grew and grew and finally erupted in explosive, heaving sobs. She buried her face against Star’s neck and bawled. She shook with sobs, her nose ran, her eyes leaked uncontrollably, and rivers ran down her cheeks.
It was a long time before she could make herself stop. Her breath came in long gasps. And it was combined with other breaths, the warm, moist breaths from large nostrils against her neck. Star’s head was weighing down her shoulder. Star was nuzzling her!
Rose kept very still, afraid to spoil the fragile moment. She looked into Star’s lovely long-lashed eyes. The far-away expression was gone. His eyes held hers.
Had the weeks of patience and kindness finally reached him, by coincidence, at this particular time? No. Rose knew this as clearly as she’d ever known anything: Star felt her distress, just as she had been feeling his. The expression in his eyes showed kinship.
Her tears had left a dark, damp mark on Star’s coat and she smoothed it with her hand.
Star nickered—what a sweet sound!—and pressed against her. In spite of everything, he was taking a chance and offering her his affection and trust. Fierce joy swept through her.
Rose wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Star.”
He needed to be exercised, she needed to change his water, but for now, she stretched her arms along his side. His hair was bristly against her skin and smelled of the pasture: grass, hay, and sunshine. Her long, dark hair, fanned out upon his coat, blended with his black mane. They relaxed together in the afternoon quiet of the stable, broken only by Star’s released sigh and the buzz of a fly.
Rose knew that if she rode him now, whether sidesaddle or whatever, he would respond—but she wanted to do this right, with her best skills.
“I’ll be right back, Star,” Rose said, smiling. “Don’t go away.”
Rose shut the door of Star’s stall and went down the stable aisle into the storage area that served as a tack room. It smelled deliciously of leather and saddle soap. In a dark corner, she changed quickly out of her petticoats and normal skirt, and put on the divided skirt. It was made of soft tan leather. She actually loved the way it felt against her skin, though of course it was a most peculiar thing to wear. She liked walking with the new freedom it gave her, but she’d never want anyone in Cape Light to see it. She put on her riding cap with the hard crown in case of a fall. She peered around the door. No one was nearby. The stablehands must be feeding horses housed in the other stables. Riding school was in session at the far end of the property. She was safe from disapproving eyes.
St
ar welcomed her back with a soft whinny; how heartwarming that was, especially because she had given up on ever being greeted by him!
She put the saddle pad in place on Star’s back and checked to make sure it wasn’t bunched up when she put the saddle over it. She strapped the girth around his belly and slid her flat hand between the girth and the horse. Good, not too loose and not too tight. She led him out of the stall and mounted. She didn’t need a mounting block, everything was so much easier when she could use both her legs!
Now her thighs and knees rested against Star on either side. Rose held the reins lightly and squeezed with her lower legs. Star responded immediately by walking. Rose closed her left hand on the reins, eased with her right hand, pivoted her head and shoulders to the left and squeezed and released with her left leg. Star made a smooth left turn onto the path. “Good boy!” This was so much better for his tender mouth than directing him by yanking on the reins!
Rose squeezed with her legs and pushed with her back; Star began to trot on cue, not like the perfectly trained, miserable machine he’d shown her before, but as her willing partner. Rose found Star’s rhythm. She followed his motion, moving her hips forward and pivoting from her knee. She felt his eagerness to run, but she kept him in a slow trot to warm up.
They left the paddock area and cantered along the trail leading away from Clayton Stables. “All right, Star, here we go!” They crossed a meadow and Rose asked for a gallop. Star stretched out with flowing speed, running smoothly with easy freedom. This was not like the frenzied racing Star had been forced into, Rose thought, this was willing, joyful running. Rose laughed out loud with pleasure, her wind-whipped black hair mixing with Star’s flowing black mane.
There was no past and no future, only this harmony with speeding hoofbeats. She knew Star could feel her breathing, as she could feel his. Riding him was a dance with the perfect partner. In the saddle, Rose thought, is the only place I’ve ever felt graceful.
Rose's Story Page 7