by Ann Shorey
Then he slapped his hand on the table. No. He’d done the right thing.
6
Cassie’s fists clenched and unclenched as she marched along the block between the restaurant and Rosemary’s house. A week would probably kill her, he’d said. Such presumption. True, she’d never felt this tired, and her feet throbbed from standing most of the day. But nothing a night’s rest wouldn’t cure.
There had to be some way to persuade him to let her come back to work.
When she reached the Stewarts’ porch, she realized she still wore her soiled apron. Her face burned. As if the day hadn’t ended badly enough, here she’d walked past the businesses lining Third Street wearing servant’s garb. She jerked the apron off and crammed it into her carryall before climbing the porch steps.
Once inside, she paused in the entryway to remove her shoes from her aching feet. She’d taken a few steps toward the sitting room when she heard voices.
“When I invited them to stay, I had no idea they’d settle here! I don’t mind Cassie—at least she helps you around the house—but her mother—” Elijah let the remark hang unfinished.
“How can we turn them away? They have nowhere to go.” Rosemary’s angry tone matched her husband’s.
“Neither does our baby. It’s time I started on the nursery.”
“Nonsense. You have more than a month.”
Cassie pictured her friend standing toe to toe with Elijah, unwilling to give ground. Heat swept over her at being the cause of the argument.
She needed to find a home for herself and her mother. Soon.
She tiptoed to the entrance, opened the door again, then slammed it. The voices stopped. The back door banged. In moments, a flush-faced Rosemary hurried from the kitchen and clasped Cassie’s shoulders.
“I never dreamed you’d be so late! Have you had supper?”
Cassie eyed her friend. She wanted to assure her that she and Mother would be gone soon, but how could she do that without revealing she’d been eavesdropping? Indeed, how could she offer any assurance when she’d just lost the first job she ever held?
The starch left Cassie’s bones. She tottered over to the sofa and slumped against the back, dropping her carryall on the floor.
“Yes, I’ve had supper. When the men left after meals, Mrs. Fielder and I had time to eat.” She massaged her temples. “I didn’t know I’d be this late, either. Mr. West didn’t tell me ahead of time that I was to stay through supper.”
“Well, tomorrow you’ll know.”
“Um, yes. I will.” Here was the perfect opportunity. She needed to tell Rosemary that she’d been dismissed. Cassie opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat.
Apparently mistaking her silence for fatigue, Rosemary took her hand. “You look like you need a cup of mint tea. Let’s go to the kitchen.”
Rosemary stopped in front of the stove and pushed a kettle over one of the round eyes on top. “While we wait for the water to boil, tell me about your job. What did you have to do today?”
Thankful for a question she could answer without dodging the truth, Cassie said, “Set tables and wash dishes. Over and over.”
“But . . . weren’t you going to help serve?”
“Mr. West didn’t trust me with serving. First thing this morning, he sent Mrs. Fielder out with the coffee and I spent all day in the kitchen. Unless it was time to prepare tables for the next meal—then he allowed me into the dining room.” She couldn’t help the trace of sarcasm that tinged her last sentence.
Rosemary patted Cassie’s shoulder. “Jacob’s a practical man. Maybe he thinks you need another day or two to learn how he wants things done.”
Another day or two. She’d only been allowed twelve hours. She bit her lip at the memory, a knot of anger forming in her chest. Slow or not, anybody could wash dishes. He had no reason to send her away.
Rosemary moved from the stove and gazed out the window into the fenced backyard. One hand stole to the corner of her eye and brushed away what might have been a tear.
Cassie followed her gaze. Elijah stood in one corner and tossed a stick for Bodie. The dog raced after the prize, then dropped it at Elijah’s feet to be thrown again.
Watching them, Cassie squirmed inside. If she and Mother weren’t here, Rosemary and her husband wouldn’t be quarreling. They’d be enjoying a quiet evening together—maybe drinking mint tea. She drew a deep breath and released it in a long sigh.
“Where’s my mother? Did she go to bed this early?”
Rosemary’s expression flattened. “She went to your room following supper. Apparently she’s none too happy about you working for Jacob West.”
Another opportunity to give Rosemary her news. Cassie let it pass. Instead, she cleared her throat. “No. She isn’t. But I’m praying she’ll come around.”
At that moment, the kettle came to a boil, splattering hissing drops of water over the stovetop. Rosemary hurried to grab the handle and pour hot water over the leaves in the teapot.
Cassie glanced between Elijah, out on the lawn, and her friend, who watched him through the window. She took a step toward the doorway.
“If you’ll excuse me, I can’t keep postponing what’s sure to be a confrontation with Mother. Why don’t you call Elijah in and enjoy this tea together?”
She left the kitchen without giving Rosemary the opportunity to reply.
Cassie’s mother lay on their bed atop the coverlet, a folded cloth resting on her forehead. “Well, I hope you’ve learned a good lesson. When you take a servant’s job, you work servant’s hours.” She spoke without turning her head.
“The work was hard, but I did it.” Cassie couldn’t keep the pride from her voice. “I felt useful for the first time in my life. If that was the lesson, it was a good one.” She wouldn’t give her mother the satisfaction of telling her that Mr. West had dismissed her. After overhearing Rosemary and Elijah, a determination to earn a living stiffened her spine. She would not impose on her friend a day longer than necessary.
Her mother whipped the cloth aside and swung her stocking feet over the edge of the bed. Sitting upright, she beckoned with her index finger. “Let me see your hands.”
Cassie stepped closer, extending her reddened palms.
“My heavens! What did he have you doing?” She squeezed Cassie’s fingers. “My poor girl. I hope you told him you didn’t want his scullery job.”
“I said no such thing.”
Mother looked horrified. “Surely you don’t plan to continue.”
“I do and I will. I’m truly sorry to upset you.” Cassie bent and kissed her mother’s forehead, then withdrew from her grasp.
One way or another, she’d fight for a second chance.
The hinges on the screen door gave a rusty squeak when Cassie stepped into the restaurant kitchen the following morning. She didn’t see Mrs. Fielder, but the range ticked as the iron surface heated. Apprehension prickled along her arms. Mr. West must have built up the fire. She’d hoped she could avoid him, at least for now, by being early.
She drew a fortifying breath. No matter. She’d start by setting the tables and worry about him when he appeared. After removing half a dozen plates from the shelf, she counted out an equal number of knives and forks and carried them into the next room.
When she stepped into the dining room, Mrs. Fielder stopped sweeping the floor and stared at her.
“What are you doing? Mr. West told you not to come back.”
“So he did. You might say I paid no attention.” She walked around a table, placing a setting in front of each chair.
Mrs. Fielder’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Wouldn’t have guessed you had this much spirit.” Chuckling, she carried the broom toward the kitchen. “Go ahead and finish those tables. We’ll see what he says when he gets here,” she called over her shoulder.
Relieved the cook hadn’t sent her home, Cassie blew out the breath she’d been holding and returned to the kitchen for another stack of plates.
>
She’d nearly completed the last table when Mr. West stomped into the dining room. “Miss Haddon! Why are you here?” His deep voice sounded like a growl.
“You had no cause to dismiss me. So I decided not to leave.” With deliberate motions, she laid a knife and fork next to a plate, then straightened, planting her hands on her hips. “Anyone can set tables and wash dishes. Did you find me incompetent at those tasks?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “But by the end of the day, you were near collapse. This isn’t a proper job for you. I can’t be responsible—”
“You’re not responsible for me. Kindly allow me to decide what’s proper.” She swallowed the pounding in her throat. For the first time in her life, she was standing up for what she wanted. She enjoyed the sensation.
A moment of silence passed between them. Mr. West’s gaze traveled over her blue print dress, her clean apron, and stopped at the toes of the worn boots she’d borrowed from Rosemary. A smile hovered under his moustache. “I see you came better prepared today.”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
She waited, feeling the bump of her racing heart.
“You’re to work in the kitchen.” He gave her a hard look. “No waiting tables. Understood?”
“But I—” She clamped her lips over the remainder of her retort. “Understood.”
Shaking his head, he turned and stalked to the grocery entrance.
Cassie suppressed a whoop of joy. Speeding to the kitchen, she hurtled into the room and seized a tray of cups. She’d not lose this chance.
7
Jacob sat at a table in his small office space in one corner of the storeroom. A pen, ink, and an open ledger rested beneath a glowing oil lamp. He’d postponed his monthly report to Colin Riley, his partner in Boston, until he could think of a way to explain his hiring of Miss Haddon. Colin had warned him more than once about being overly charitable.
Jacob massaged the back of his neck. He didn’t believe his partner would be persuaded by a description of Miss Haddon’s sweet face and shining green eyes as the reason behind his decision to add her to the expense side of the ledger, although if he were honest that’s what he’d have to say.
The middle of May was fast approaching. Two weeks had passed since her employment. If he didn’t post a letter soon, Colin would no doubt send someone to check on him.
Jacob wanted to avoid such a visit at all costs.
He groaned and lifted a sheet of paper, then copied the income and expense figures for April at the top of the page. Thankfully, income exceeded expense even with the addition of another employee. After writing a draft for Colin’s share of the profits, he scribbled a brief message beneath the figures:
You’ll note I’ve added another person to the kitchen. She’s been a great help to Mrs. Fielder. With summer coming on, the cooperage and wagon shop will be hiring more men. I hear a brickyard will set up here soon, as well. New customers should easily cover the additional salary.
He stopped and tapped the pen holder against the tabletop. Should he say more about Miss Haddon? No, he’d stop now. Too many explanations opened the door to too many questions.
After dipping the nib in the ink again, he signed his name. In the morning, he’d take the letter to the post office and send it on its way.
“Mr. West?” Miss Haddon’s voice spoke behind him. He started, dropping the pen. She’d appeared as if his thoughts of her had brought her to the doorway.
“What is it?” His voice sounded harsher than he intended.
She took a step back. “Please excuse the interruption. I know it’s time to go home, but a man came to the kitchen door to talk to you. Mrs. Fielder made him stay outside, but she told me to come get you.” Her eyes opened wide. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’ll come with you right now.” He gentled his voice, berating himself for causing the apprehensive expression he saw on her face. Frightening her was the last thing he wanted to do.
He followed her from the grocery through the dining room, then to the kitchen. Mrs. Fielder stood near the door wearing her cloak.
“The fellow’s in the alley. He wouldn’t say what he wants.”
“Thank you both. Before I talk to him, I’ll see you out the front entrance.” When he caught a surprised look pass between Miss Haddon and Mrs. Fielder, he hastened to explain. “No telling who’s out there. Best if he doesn’t know you’re out walking unescorted.”
By including the two of them in his comment, he hoped he’d hidden his concern for Miss Haddon. The drab clothing she wore to work couldn’t disguise her beauty. He wished he could offer to see her home, not merely tonight, but each night. He shook his head at his folly. At thirty-eight, he was practically middle-aged. She couldn’t be more than twenty-two. She’d never be interested in him.
When they reached the street entrance, he turned the key in the lock and swung the door wide. “See you tomorrow.”
Miss Haddon gave him the full benefit of her deep green eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.”
He paused a moment after closing the door to gather his straying thoughts. With an unknown visitor waiting in the alley, he needed to be alert. As far as he knew, Colin was the only person in Boston who knew where he was, but he couldn’t be overconfident. Life had a way of sneaking up on a man.
Bending over, he patted one of his boots. The outline of his Pepper-box pistol reassured him of the weapon’s presence. Thus prepared, he strode to the back door and inched open the screen door. He heard the visitor before he saw him.
“Mr. West?” A tall dark-skinned man stepped from the shadows, his hat tucked against his chest. Tight curls covered his scalp.
“I’m Jacob West.”
“My name’s Wash Bennett. I was wonderin’ if you need your kitchen swamped out nights after the ladies are to home.” Wash moved closer to the entrance.
Nothing about his slow drawl indicated Boston roots. Likely he was a freed slave, searching for work. Jacob relaxed a bit and pushed the door wide. “Come on in. You hungry?” He stepped aside and allowed the man to enter.
“No sir.” Wash’s skinny frame belied his words. “Not lookin’ for a handout. I work for my food.”
Jacob gazed around the kitchen, taking in spills in front of the worktables and stove. Most nights he stayed behind to scrub the floors after he balanced the day’s ledger entries. If he hired Wash Bennett, he’d be free to leave that much sooner.
A moment of silence passed between them. Pity swept over him at the sight of Wash’s hopeful face. So many former slaves needed work. He couldn’t help them all—but he could help one. Jacob rubbed his moustache with his thumb, then pointed to a mop and bucket in the far corner. “I could use someone. How soon can you start?”
“Right now. I’ll shine the place up real good.” Wash rolled up the sleeves of his faded chambray shirt. Ropy muscles stood out on his forearms.
“One thing first.” Jacob walked to the box where he stored bread and removed the wooden cover. He placed a loaf on the table and cut four slices, then spread them with butter. “Eat this now, then go to work. Tomorrow I’ll have the cook set aside some supper for you.”
Tears brimmed in the man’s eyes. “You’re a blessin’, sir. Thank you.”
Embarrassed, Jacob nodded. He thought of the unsent letter to Colin on the table in his office. He’d wait until next month to tell him about Wash Bennett. For now, he’d sit in the dining room and watch to see how his new employee carried out his duties.
It wouldn’t do to be too trusting.
As Cassie walked toward the Stewarts’ house, she pondered the change she’d seen in Mr. West. She wouldn’t have thought him afraid of anything. Yet his reaction to the news that someone waited for him behind the restaurant left her puzzled. Perhaps the lateness of the hour was the explanation. When she reached King’s Highway, she paused and forced her employer from her thoughts.
More immediate concerns awaited her in the brick home across the str
eet. Her friend’s baby would be born in a few more weeks. Despite sending repeated letters to the railroad company, Mother hadn’t received any news about her brother. Tension vibrated in the air whenever she and Elijah were in the same room.
Cassie waited until a group of riders passed, then stepped off the boardwalk to cross the wide street. Her mind jumped from one solution to another, always returning to the same thought. She’d have to take what little she’d earned so far and try to find a place to live.
The atmosphere when she entered the house reinforced her decision. Rosemary sat alone, a half-knitted baby sacque resting on what was left of her lap. Woofs from the back garden told her that Elijah had probably taken Bodie and gone outside. As usual, Mother would be in their shared room, either reading or penning demands to the railroad. The contrast with the happy scene at her arrival last month brought tears to her eyes. How could her mother be oblivious to the disruption caused by their presence?
Rosemary pushed her knitting aside and smiled at Cassie. “Come sit with me. It’s lonely in here. Elijah seems more interested in throwing sticks for the dog than chatting with me in the evenings.”
“I suspect he’d like to be upstairs creating a nursery for your little one, but Mother and I are in the way.” Cassie took her friend’s hand. “We’ll be gone by the end of the week. I promise.”
Rosemary’s smile wobbled. “Please don’t do anything rash. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome. If it were up to me . . .”
“You’ve done everything you could to make us welcome. So did Elijah. We’ve overstayed.”
“Then tell me about your plans.” A frown crossed her friend’s face. “I hope you’re not leaving Noble Springs.”
Cassie shook her head. “I’m happy here. I like working for Mr. West, in spite of being confined to the kitchen.”
“You said that with a certain smile. Is it the work you like, or Jacob West?”
“Well . . .” She thought of his deep, resonant voice, and the kindness he tried to hide under a gruff manner. Knowing she’d see him every day spurred her toward the restaurant in the early mornings. “I must admit, I like both him and the work.” A flush heated her cheeks.