by Molly Jebber
Matt chatted about patients they had treated the past week.
Becca listened and commented when appropriate but couldn’t relax. She couldn’t push from her mind Mrs. Carrington’s disapproving face the day she first met her. She didn’t want her nervousness to dampen his happy mood. He was anxious to show her his childhood home and introduce her to his family and friends. She would do her best to win his parents over and enjoy the party.
As Matt steered the horses down a long lane, she viewed the ornate buggies with horses heading for the large, four-pillared house. Several cars were parked in the yard. What would it be like to ride in one?
A porch wrapped around the big white house. Plentiful pots overflowed with hyacinth. Women in elegant long dresses and handsomely garbed men headed for the front door.
Matt pulled in front of the house and handed the reins to the stableman. He climbed out, assisted Becca, and escorted her to the front door.
The butler waved them in. “Master Carrington, it is a pleasure to see you. Come in.”
Matt introduced Becca to friends then showed her each room. “I love this place. I have such fond memories of growing up here.”
Becca leaned into him. “Your mamm is an excellent decorator. The carpets, furniture, and paintings are divine.”
“I must admit, she does have an eye for decorating.” He pointed to a painting of an older couple. “They are my grandparents on my father’s side. I admire this picture of them. They were kind to others and loved each other very much.”
She stared at them. The man and woman in the picture had rather sour faces and didn’t reflect Matt’s words. Was there anything positive she could say about this picture? Nothing came to mind. She strolled away from it. “What about your mamm’s parents. Were you close to them?”
“No. They died before I was born. They owned a restaurant serving casual fare in Columbus where my mother worked and first met my father. She was an only child. Her answers to my questions about her parents have always been short. I do know her parents lived comfortably, but they were far from wealthy.”
Mrs. Carrington worked in a restaurant? She had assumed the woman came from money the way she turned her nose up at those less fortunate than herself.
Matt gestured to a man who resembled him. “My father is standing in the library entryway. Come with me, and I will introduce you.” He clasped her hand and moved to Dr. Horace Carrington. “Father, please meet Becca Yost. The woman I have been telling you about.”
Matt’s daed bowed with tight lips. “Yes, Mrs. Carrington has told me about you. Please help yourself to some refreshments. Dinner will be served in thirty minutes. Matt, we will talk later.” He turned his back to them and greeted another guest.
Frowning, Matt pulled her aside. “Becca, I am sorry. My father certainly could have been friendlier.”
Becca sucked in her upper lip. The moment was awkward. His daed disapproved of her. She observed Matt’s stricken face. It was apparent he was hurt by his daed’s abrupt behavior too.
Mrs. Carrington approached them. Her soft cream and subtly elegant pink gown complemented her tall, thin frame. Becca liked her dark hair pinned up in a large bun. A matching hat lined with flowers and a bow sat tilted on her hair. Her necklace and wrist shined bright with diamonds, and gloves matching her gown covered her hands. “There you are, my handsome son.” She kissed him on the cheek and ignored Becca.
“Mother, you have met Becca Yost.”
“My dear, may I call you Becca?”
Becca’s pulse rate increased. Maybe they were off to a good start. “Yes, please do.”
Mrs. Carrington scrutinized her from head to toe with her dark brown eyes. “Becca, let me help you. My son neglected to find you a proper dress to wear, and you must change before meeting our guests. I may have something you might fit into. I will have one of the servants see what we can do. Follow me.”
Becca’s body heated. Her hopeful moment ended. Things were not going well with Mrs. Carrington. Matt’s mamm was rude and to come here was a mistake. She didn’t move. She had no intention of going anywhere with this woman.
Matt gently squeezed her hand. “Becca is not going to change her clothes. She is dressed fine as she is, and I expect you to treat her with respect.”
Pinching her lips, Mrs. Carrington leaned close to Matt. “You and I will need to talk at another time. Bringing her here dressed like this is a mistake. You are hurting your reputation and ours.” She walked away in a huff.
He placed his hand on Becca’s arm and whisked her into the room where refreshments were displayed on a long table. “I apologize for my mother’s behavior. She is wrong about your dress. You are beautiful in your plain clothes.”
Becca believed Matt meant what he said, but she couldn’t erase Mrs. Carrington’s rude words. Women stared and turned away when she opened her mouth to say hello but shut it. “You’re kind, but your mamm isn’t the only one who disapproves of my dress. The other women frown when they look at me.” She wanted to run. His parents and their friends treated her as if she had leprosy.
He poured her a glass of ice water. “They are as rude as my mother. We will avoid them. I will introduce you to my friends, who I know you will enjoy.” He put fruit and cheese on a plate and led her to a small table outside.
Matt introduced her to men and women of all ages. She liked the wives of his friends. They were kind and welcoming. She enjoyed talking to them. Several husbands asked their wives to dance. The couples moved across the dance floor.
She sat back. The warm breeze brushed her cheeks. Her eyes followed the couples dancing to the soft piano music drifting through the open doorway.
Matt offered his hand. “Dance with me.”
Heart throbbing against her chest, she walked alongside him and stepped inside the room. She liked how the women’s skirts swirled, as they glided across the dance floor. She followed Matt’s lead and concentrated only on him. It was as if they were alone.
“Why is Eloise Carrington’s son with an Amish girl? His mother must be appalled to have her son with one of those women.”
Becca’s eyes darted a glance at the bold, well-dressed woman. Her body tensed, and her magical moment with Matt was shattered.
Matt ushered her to a side room and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do not pay any attention to the brash woman’s unkind words. I am the luckiest man here to have you with me.” He caressed her cheek. “I am ready to go home. Are you?”
Becca hooked her arm through his and headed for the front door. Today would forever be burned in her memory.
The butler instructed the stableman to bring Matt’s horse and buggy to the front. They climbed in and rode to Ruth’s. On the way, Matt insisted his parents’ opinions about her did not matter to him.
Becca appreciated his effort to put her at ease, but it didn’t work. How would she and Matt have a healthy courtship with his mamm and daed so fervently opposed to her? Before they went to Matt’s parents’ home, they didn’t have a care in the world, but the party had changed everything.
He pulled in front of Ruth’s home, got out, and escorted Becca to the door. He caressed her cheek, leaned in, and kissed her lips tenderly. “Please do not ponder on my parents’ impoliteness. I will talk to them. If they do not agree to change their attitude, we will not visit them again.”
She waited until he was out of sight before going inside. She joined Ruth and plopped in a chair beside her. She recounted what had happened at the party. “His parents want nothing to do with me.”
Ruth removed Becca’s kapp. “The whole evening was not bad. You enjoyed seeing Matt’s home, dancing, and meeting his friends.”
“Dr. and Mrs. Carrington are influential and rich. They want him to marry a woman of means. I’m not what they had in mind. A few of his friends tolerated me, and the rest were as discourteous as his mamm with their stares and murmurs. You should’ve seen the way she frowned at my dress. She despised me and my clothes. I wanted th
e ground to open up and swallow me whole. I’ve been living in a dream world. Matt’s parents and friends will never accept me.”
“If Matt wanted to marry someone from high society, he would have. He chose you.”
“Matt is going to talk to his parents and insist they be kind to me. He’s already had a conversation with his mamm about her changing her bad behavior toward me the first time we met. She still wasn’t nice to me. I suspect she won’t listen to him. Even if he refuses to communicate with them, we are bound to run into them. She has no problem showing up unannounced in his office. I don’t want continuous confrontations with her. What can I do?”
“You have chosen to live in Massillon, and you want Matt. You need to start wearing English clothes. You should have listened to me and worn an elegant gown. You made yourself stand out by not doing so. I do not understand why you have not started wearing English clothes. Choose a simple Gibson Girl dress from my closet and wear it to work tomorrow.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’m no longer Amish, and Massillon is definitely my home. It’s time for me to put my Amish clothes aside. Let’s go pick one out.” Becca followed Ruth to her closet where her sister pulled out simple flower-printed dresses. She tried them on and studied herself in the mirror. “This yellow one with the full skirt is my favorite.”
“Good choice.” Ruth smoothed her hands over the shoulders of the dress and straightened the rounded collar. “It is sweet.”
She sashayed at her reflection in the mirror. It was pretty and the color brought out her eyes. “I’ll wear this one tomorrow.”
Removing pins from Becca’s hair, Ruth unwound her bun. Her long blond locks fell to her waist. “Matt is going to love your new look. Let me trim your ends so it is more manageable.” Ruth found scissors and shortened Becca’s tresses. “Your hair is thicker with some weight taken off. When we have time, I will teach you some different ways to fix it.”
“It will take a little time for me to get used to wearing English clothes. They feel strange. Not wearing a kapp will be the easiest thing to get used to. I have never liked them.”
“You will be fine. Soon, I suspect you will forget all about your plain clothes.” Ruth put her hand on her hip. “You will need some color on your face. We need to enhance your flawless skin and accentuate your high cheekbones. I have some powder for your cheeks and a little light beeswax stain for your lips.” Ruth went and got these things and applied them with a delicate touch.
Becca studied herself in the mirror. “I like it.”
Ruth stood back. “Good. Now I can tell you about my surprise. The day you told me you were going to remain in Massillon, I started stitching a pink and white dress for you. It is still at the shop. I will bring it home tomorrow.” She tapped Becca’s nose. “You’re going to look beautiful in it. Someday, I hope to stitch you a wedding dress.”
“Ruth, I’m truly blessed to have a sister like you. I appreciate all you do for me. And yes, you making my wedding dress someday would be wonderful.”
She had considered what marriage to Matt would be like. Something she enjoyed mulling over. It would be different from an Amish wedding where the bride didn’t wear a wedding dress or accept a diamond ring on her finger. There were no decorations or flowers. She looked forward to it all one day, but the party had cast a dark cloud over the bright and beautiful future she had pictured with him. His mamm had not only been rude to her but insulted her as well. His daed was definitely not happy about their courtship either. “If Mrs. Carrington has anything to do with it, Matt and I won’t ever be married.”
Ruth waved her hand. “Do not be silly. Matt is not listening to his mother and neither should you. Your first two meetings with Mrs. Carrington were not positive, but I have high hopes for the next one. English clothes will help her accept you. Matt told you how beautiful you are in your plain clothes. Wait until he sees you in your English dress tomorrow.”
She had no doubt Matt would like the change, but she suspected she wouldn’t measure up to Mrs. Carrington’s standards no matter what she wore.
Chapter Nine
Becca walked to work Monday morning. She touched one of the soft blond ringlets bouncing against her neck. Her hair was pretty. Ruth had insisted on fixing her hair this morning. She ran her hand along the buttons on her arm. Yes, buttons were much better than pins holding her sleeves together. The soft yellow material of the Gibson Girl dress she had chosen swished against her legs. She swallowed hard. Would Matt like her new look? Maybe her hair in ringlets was too fancy.
The sheriff waved. She blushed, waved, and stepped inside the office.
Matt strode over to her. “You look stunning. I love the dress, and your hair is pretty.”
Dorothy slapped a hand to her chest and squealed in surprise. “Becca, you are lovely in your Amish clothing, but this yellow Gibson Girl dress flatters your petite frame.” She fingered a curl. “It is golden and feels like silk. Ruth must have done your hair. Your sister loves ringlets.”
“You both are sweet. And yes, Ruth did help me with everything. I don’t know what I would do without her. She takes excellent care of me.”
The sheriff rushed in and startled them. “Matt, a fight broke out at the saloon. A man got hit in the head with a bottle. Will you come with me and take a look at him?”
Becca passed Matt his bag. “Be careful.”
Matt and the sheriff rushed out.
A few minutes later, the door slammed and Mrs. Carrington swept in.
Becca stood and stared at her then recovered. “Mrs. Carrington, how are you today? Did Matt know you were coming?”
Becca glanced at Dorothy, who hurried to her desk and didn’t say a word. She turned her attention to Mrs. Carrington and waited.
“I am fine, and no, I do not need to make my son aware of when I will visit. I am his mother. I will visit whenever I want to. Where is he?”
Mrs. Carrington didn’t make being nice to her easy. “The sheriff stopped by a few minutes ago and asked Matt to join him at the saloon to help an injured man.”
“I will wait for him.” Matt’s mamm studied Becca. “I see you have changed from your plain clothes into a more appropriate dress.” She tapped her finger on her chin and circled around Becca. “Although an improvement, this dress is still quite simple and a bit dowdy on you.”
Becca gritted her teeth, folded her hands, and refused to respond to the woman’s ill-mannered comment. “I’m not sure how long Matt will be gone. Maybe you would like to come back later.”
Mrs. Carrington removed her gloves. “Oh dear, I have offended you.” She came close. “You and I have gotten off to a bad start. I have an idea. Will you go to Lizzie’s for breakfast with me and have a little chat?” She tilted her head, and the feathers on her large hat bobbed. “Will you do it?”
She didn’t know what to make of Mrs. Carrington. Matt’s mamm bounced from mean to nice all in one conversation. She would go with her to Lizzie’s and hope for the best. Maybe this would be a new beginning for them. She glanced at Dorothy and caught the older woman’s mouthed no. Should she listen to Dorothy and not go? No, she had to take the chance Mrs. Carrington had good intentions. “I can leave the office for an hour.” She glanced over her shoulder at Dorothy. “If a patient comes in I can help, come and fetch me. Matt should return soon.”
Dorothy pursed her lips with disapproval.
At Lizzie’s with Mrs. Carrington, Becca bit into her fried green tomatoes. Not sure what to say, she waited for Matt’s mamm to speak.
Mrs. Carrington tapped her index finger on the table. “Did Matt mention Beatrice Bloomingdale?”
“Yes, he did. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to join you and your guest for supper. Matt said he explained to you why I wasn’t able to attend.”
Mrs. Carrington bit into her egg sandwich and dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “Yes, he did. Your absence allowed the two of them to get acquainted. She is a beautiful girl who comes from a prominent family, and she is int
erested in Matt. He seemed to like her.”
Becca pinched off a piece of white bread. Why would Mrs. Carrington bring up Miss Bloomingdale? She must want to make her jealous. Matt and she had discussed Miss Bloomingdale, and she was satisfied Matt had no interest in any other woman but her. Why should she discuss Miss Bloomingdale with anyone, least of all Mrs. Carrington? “I believe you’re mistaken. Matt and I are courting. He’s not interested in Miss Bloomingdale. I assumed this meeting was so you and I could get to know each other better.”
“What more is there to know about you? You are a poor ambitious Amish girl who shed her heritage to encourage a man with money to want to marry you. My son is smart but gullible. I want you out of Matt’s life. Name your price. If you agree to leave my son alone, you can start a new life somewhere else and have money to do so.”
Shock and anger traveled from head to toe. Did this woman really believe she would take money in exchange for Matt? This had to be the worst insult she had ever received. Mrs. Carrington’s words were coldhearted, ruthless, and controlling. “I’m not going anywhere, and no amount of money will keep me away from Matt.”
An evil grin spread across Mrs. Carrington’s face. “You were at my party. You saw the type of people we mingle with, and you were obviously uncomfortable among them. Admit it. You do not fit into our social circle.”
Becca considered leaving but stayed in her seat. She wouldn’t cause a scene or let Matt’s mamm think she was weak. Some of Matt’s patients sat in the corner. She didn’t want to draw their attention. She met Mrs. Carrington’s eyes and lowered her voice. “Matt’s fine with the way I fit into his world.”
“My son’s friendships extend well beyond this town. Like it or not, he has a lot of friends in high society who will not accept you. It will always be a world you fear because you do not even know how to pretend to blend in.”
Becca stiffened. Eloise Carrington’s words rang true. The people were polished, smart, and current on all the latest news on politics, inventions, and fashion. Maybe Mrs. Carrington was right. Maybe she would never be comfortable in Matt’s world. She glanced at his mamm. The woman’s shoulders set back and her mouth tightened in a grim line. No, she would not let Mrs. Carrington ruin what she had with Matt. “I’m going to leave, because this conversation is pointless.”