by Indiana Wake
With her hands still in her lap and her cheeks flaming red, Amanda vowed to herself there and then that she would never, ever marry Garth Walton. She would die before that happened.
“Well, if you’re going to behave like a spoiled child, I will send you to your room,” Peter Hargreaves rose to his feet and walked around the table.
He seized Amanda roughly by the arm, causing her to cry out in pain, before marching her out of the room. He took her directly to her own bedroom, opening the door and pushing her inside without a word.
Amanda could hear his heavy footsteps returning to the kitchen and some low, mumbled conversation which finally ended in raucous male laughter. How could he listen to everything she had said and not turn that man out of the house? How could he put his own ambitions above his only daughter’s honor and happiness?
Amanda knew then that she would never, ever forgive her parents for that day, not for as long as she lived.
As she sat down on her bed, her humiliation wrapped around her like a shroud, she thought of Joe. His clever, gentle, cultured manner; his handsome face, the feel of his warm lips on her own. Did he wonder what had become of her? Did he even know that she had been kept to the house? Perhaps he would not realize anything was amiss until Friday when he did not see her. And even then, what could he do about it? More importantly, what would he do about it?
The relationship was so new, so very much in its infancy, that Amanda already understood that she could not rely on him to save her. For to save her could only mean one thing and she had no idea at all if the man she had only known for a matter of weeks was ready for such a step.
Knowing that she would once again go without sleep, she lay down on her bed and cried. Only the idea that she would run if the worst came to the worst could give her any comfort now and even that brought with it such fear and uncertainty.
If only she could sleep; if only she could close her eyes and listen to the birdsong and the rustling of the breeze through the trees as he held her safe in his strong arms.
“Oh, Joe. Joe,” she whispered under her breath before her tears took hold of her with renewed force.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m going to the farmhouse, Bess. There’s nothing else for it,” Joe said on Tuesday evening when the two finally managed to speak. “Sandy said that Amanda is never going back to the diner, she was very clear that her boss is looking for another waitress.”
“You’re right. I think you must,” Bess said with a sigh and leaned heavily against the gate which led to her family’s home.
She had been looking out of the window as he approached and darted out into the warm evening air so that they could talk in private.
“I will go tomorrow evening,” Joe went on, wishing he could simply set off that moment. “It’s too late to go over there now. But tomorrow, as soon as the working day is over, I will go and speak to Amanda’s father.
“What will you say?” Bess asked a little fearfully.
“There will be no point in hiding anything, I suppose. After all, there is little doubt that the reason she is being kept to the farmhouse is me.” He wondered what he really would say. “I’ll just be honest and tell her father of my feelings for her and of her feelings for me. I can only hope that he will see me as the sort of man who would look after his daughter for the rest of her life.”
“Yes,” Bess said doubtfully.
“What? What is it?”
“I’m not sure that Mr. Hargreaves’ main concern is his daughter’s welfare, if I’m honest. I feel dreadful for saying it, for he has never been anything but kind to me and I am certain, absolutely certain, that he loves Amanda. But he is a stubborn man and one who does not like to be contradicted in any way.”
“Then, I will have to be careful not to contradict him. Whatever happens, Amanda must not be held prisoner in that house. The world benefits too much from her presence in it.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Bess said and Joe knew that she was about to cry again. “What a lovely thing to say.”
“Thank you, Bess, but it is the truth.”
“I know it is.” She sniffed loudly; her tears bravely held at bay.
“I will let you know what happens.”
“Please, even if it is late. My parents are not at all strict and I think it’s time I told them a little of what is going on. You must come tomorrow and let me know how you get on.”
“I promise.”
Chapter Eighteen
The following evening, as he made his way slowly along the path which would take him directly to the farmhouse, Joe sincerely hoped that he would have some good news to give Bess when he called on her on the way back.
He was, however, feeling extraordinarily nervous. Joe had only lately seen Peter Hargreaves in church on Sundays, having no particular recollection of the man in the days before he had left Oregon for his studies in Salem. Of course, he had no particular recollection of Amanda either, but all that had changed now.
As he made his way across the short, rough grass to the front of the farmhouse, he could see two young men by the stables seeing to the horses. They both looked over at him enquiringly, although neither one nodded their acknowledgement. But there was such a striking resemblance to Amanda that they could only be her brothers, Seth and David. He hadn’t even considered their presence and was only glad now that he could at least begin his conversation with their father without them there.
The door was opened to him by Caroline Hargreaves and he could see immediately that she recognized him. She looked suddenly a little afraid, not of him, but of the situation. So, there was no doubt at all that the family were perfectly well aware of the wonderful friendship that he and Amanda shared.
“Mrs. Hargreaves, I have come to ask after Amanda,” he said in the polite style his mother had raised him to employ.
“Oh dear,” she said and was clearly flustered. “Well, Amanda is not seeing anyone currently.”
“But she is well?” he persisted, smiling at her in what he hoped was a friendly and reassuring manner.
“She’s perfectly well, Mr. Macey.” There was a look on her face he couldn’t quite make out; regret, perhaps?
“May I not see her at all?”
“It really would be better if you simply left,” she said in a near whisper. “I think it would be for your own good, my dear.”
“In that case, may I speak with your husband, please.” Joe was not going to leave without stating his case.
“Really, I do not think that would be……”
“Who is it?” came a deep and rather firm voice from within.
It was undoubtedly Peter Hargreaves if the look on Caroline’s face was anything to go by.
“Oh… I…” She faltered and her hand fluttered around her throat anxiously. “It is Mr. Macey.”
Suddenly Peter Hargreaves was standing in the doorway behind his wife with a thunderous look on his face.
“Come to say your piece, have you? Well, show the man in, let him get it off his chest.” Peter Hargreaves’ tone was one of condescension and Joe had to remind himself that he had determined not to do or say anything that would make life worse for Amanda; he must not contradict him, that was Bess’ advice.
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Joe said in as conciliatory tone as he could manage. “I do appreciate your time and I do appreciate you hearing me out.”
“Well… have a seat.” Peter Hargreaves seemed to have been put on the back foot somewhat; perhaps he was expecting a little more aggression from the young man who, despite being bookish by nature, towered over him.
Nobody looking at Peter Hargreaves would imagine that he was a farmer at all. He was not particularly tall and seemed a little slight in his build for such an occupation. Still, that did not mean that he was not strong and, as Amanda had said herself, he spent more time directing his employees than actually attending to the physical business of farming himself.
Joe was not surprised to find that he was n
ot shown into the drawing room but rather the kitchen where the two men sat down at the table, directly opposite one another in what he assumed was meant to be the physical setting for an intimidating encounter. But Joe was not intimidated.
“Well, what have you to say for yourself?” Peter Hargreaves began in a tone which suggested an adult talking to a child and Joe fought hard not to react to it.
“I came to ask after Amanda. I haven’t seen her for some days, and I believe she is not currently leaving the house very much.”
“She’s not leaving this house at all.”
“I presume that has something to do with me? With the friendship I have with Amanda?” Joe realized there was no point in doing anything other than getting straight to the heart of it.
“I have other plans for Amanda. She ought not to have looked elsewhere.”
“For friends?” Joe said, feeling sarcastic but hiding it well.
“As my wife tells it, you are a little more than friends.”
It was the final piece of the puzzle for Joe. So, Amanda’s mother was the one who had discovered their relationship and had gone to her husband with the details. Perhaps she had seen them in the diner or, worse still, in the woods. Either way, Mrs. Hargreaves was the one who had begun all of this with what Joe could not help but think of as tale-telling. For Amanda, what an awful thing to have one’s mother anywhere other than at your side. He thought of his own mother; Carrie Macey would never have done anything to hurt him.
“I care very deeply for Amanda, sir, I won’t lie to you. She is a credit to you, Mr. Hargreaves, being such an intelligent and well-read young lady. She sure is engaging in conversation and I can’t think I ever met anybody at Willamette University as bright as your daughter.” Joe smiled.
“Yes, well. Books are all well and good, young man, but they have their place. And in any case, as I have already mentioned, I have other plans for her.”
“Yes, Garth Walton, I believe,” Joe said and saw Peter Hargreaves’ eyes open wide. “I don’t mean to be argumentative, Mr. Hargreaves, I just see no point in skirting around things. Amanda knows that you would much prefer her to have an interest in Mr. Walton.” Joe shrugged amiably. “And I’m sure that she would if she could, but Amanda tells me that she has no feelings whatsoever for the young man.”
“She will in time.”
“Forgive me, sir, but I don’t think you can be certain of that.”
“I will make certain of it,” he said with such venom that he clearly surprised himself. “Look, I sure do appreciate honesty in a man, especially one as young as you. I even appreciate your courage in coming right up to my door to say your piece. It’s refreshing behavior in a man of your age and no mistake.” He smiled a little more amiably, perhaps a little embarrassed by his own aggression when Joe had shown none. “And I don’t want you to think that I don’t care for my daughter, because I do.”
“I have no doubt of it.” Joe nodded sagely.
“Which is why I want more for her. Now, I don’t mean to go insulting you, son, but this whole business of earning your living by being a writer is just pie in the sky. I’m sure they fill your head with all sorts in these universities, but it isn’t real life. Real life is farming, cattle herding, making money in a much more sensible and reliable way.”
“There is money to be made in being published, Mr. Hargreaves. I have contacts in my particular field and I am confident of my own abilities.” Joe hated the fact that he had to defend himself to a man who knew absolutely nothing about him.
“I don’t doubt that you can write a pretty piece, not for a minute. But that’s not what I want for my daughter.”
“And if it’s what your daughter wants for herself?”
“Young women never know what they want for themselves.” Peter Hargreaves laughed heartily. “One day, when you’re a little older, you will see that for yourself.”
“I think you are underestimating her, sir. I think Amanda knows very well what she wants in life.” Every fiber of Joe’s being was angry, furious, and it was almost causing him physical pain to have to keep a lid on all of it.
“While she’s under my roof, she’ll do as she’s told. You might not like it with your university education and your fresh little ideas, but you don’t live in my world. In fact, I think you probably live in a world that few other people inhabit.”
“Yes, but Amanda was in my world for a little while. Before you stopped her stepping outside, that is.”
“And she will remain here until she sees sense. I’m getting very close to an arrangement with the Walton family and I won’t have anything upsetting that.”
“But is there really any need to keep a prisoner? She is being punished when she really hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“If she’s out in the world I have no doubt that you will do everything in your power to persuade her. I can’t risk it.”
“Then I shall keep away,” Joe said, knowing that he had to do something to free Amanda. “I love her too much, sir, to do anything that would keep her caged. If it means I must walk away to give her whatever little bit of freedom she has left, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“I know your father, young man. Daniel Macey has done more than enough legal work for me in the past and he’s a good man. I’m inclined to take you at your word.”
“You may absolutely take me at my word,” Joe said, feeling the guilt wash over him; he would never stop trying to reach Amanda, whatever he said now to appease her father.
“If I hear anything to the contrary, however, then I will keep Amanda in this house until her wedding day, do you understand me?”
“Perfectly. Please, just let her back out again, I don’t want to be the cause of her unhappiness and I know without a doubt that keeping her prisoner will make her unhappy.” He decided not to add that forcing her to marry Garth Walton would make her unhappy, too; that was an argument for another day.
“Well, we’ll see.” Peter Hargreaves rose to his feet, a clear indication that the little interview was over.
“Thank you, sir,” Joe said, wishing that he could give into his baser instincts and strike the man. “I’ll bid you good evening.”
“Good evening,” Peter said before calling out over his shoulder. “Caroline, show Mr. Macey out.” As if it was somehow beneath him to take a few steps and open the door himself.
In that moment, Joe Macey silently thanked God for his own father.
Chapter Nineteen
“I hope you realize this isn’t fair. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going,” Sandy said bitterly although Amanda could tell that she was utterly enjoying her own little bout of outrage. “One minute you’re never coming back, the next minute you’re here again.”
“If you would rather I can simply leave you to it?” Amanda said teasingly.
“No, I don’t want to be left to it. I’ve worked hard enough these last couple of weeks,” Sandy went on.
“So, you don’t want me here, but you don’t want me to go either. If you hit upon a plan that suits you, do let me know,” Amanda snapped.
She’d always given way to Sandy’s laziness, sullenness, and embarrassing flirtatiousness with the male customers. But she’d suffered enough without having to put up with Sandy’s nonsense, so she most certainly wasn’t going to let her go on whining.
“There’s no need to be like that,” Sandy said, now doing her very best impression of being hurt.
“There’s no end to your repertoire, is there? One minute angry, one minute hurt, one minute smiling at the customers. Really, you ought to try out for the town players, I’m sure they are always in want of a new leading lady.”
“Why, you little…” Sandy began angrily.
“Oh, leave it!” Amanda said and laughed. “I’ve got tables to wipe down.” She turned her back on Sandy and went about her business, smiling to herself and secretly enjoying the fact that she had put her foot down.
The two of them continued to work
in silence for a while until Sandy declared that she was going to take her afternoon break elsewhere. Amanda simply shrugged and smiled; the diner was far easier to run without Sandy there anyway and she hoped that the snippy young woman would take more than her allotted time.
With Sandy gone, Amanda had the carnage of the midday rush cleared up in no time. Better still, she found herself actually enjoying it for once. When the diner had been the only job she had been allowed to do, she had found it rather boring and annoying at times. But having spent day after day sitting in the farmhouse without any company barring her immediate family, she had felt bereft. She found her thoughts, when they were not fixed upon Joe Macey, drifting to the diner. Day after day she had wished that she was pouring coffee, cutting pie, and having a few minutes of inconsequential conversation with one of the customers. And now that she was back, Amanda had decided to get as much as she could out of something so simple.
As soon as she had the diner straight again and there was no sign of any stray late afternoon customers, Amanda made her way to the large window and stared out into the street beyond. She knew she was looking for Joe, even though there was no longer any point.
Her father had gleefully told her that Joe had declared himself to have no particular interest in her after all. He had been good enough to speak up on her part, to have her released from that gentle prison, for he had not wanted to be the cause of trouble in the life of a girl he liked well enough but had no real aspiration for.
The news had cut her to the quick and she would not have believed it had she not heard of Joe’s promise to leave her alone so that she might be free once again. He was a good man and she was certain that he would have done as much for anybody. And in believing that, how could she not believe the rest? Just because her father was pleased about it, almost triumphant, did that make it untrue? She doubted it.