The feel of her sister’s arm circling her shoulders startled Nancy, but only because she’d thought she was alone in the garden. She and Elizabeth were so attuned to each other and had comforted each other so many times over their years together that Nancy didn’t have to lift her head to see who was at her side.
“What’s burdening your heart?” Elizabeth asked.
“There are weeds in my garden.” A flood of tears rushed out and Nancy buried her face in her hands.
“What?” Elizabeth rubbed Nancy’s back. “What’s going on?”
Nancy shook her head, unable to talk.
“You’re frightening me.”
“I can’t talk here,” Nancy whispered. She pushed to her feet and headed away from the house where her mother could see into the garden.
Elizabeth easily caught up with her and again circled her arm around Nancy’s shoulders. “Come on. We’ll go to our place.”
Without protesting, Nancy allowed Elizabeth to lead her down a path they’d walked from their earliest memory to this present moment. The garden was blooming with purple petunias, pink hibiscus, and vibrant clusters of scarlet zinnias tucked into well-tended beds. They passed high trellises where bushes of red roses climbed high, spreading their sweet perfume through the garden. They wove their way through groomed hedges and perfectly clipped leafy green rhododendron and azalea bushes. They passed garden beds filled with peppermint, basil, and other herbs. Nancy had planted rosemary in her little garden back home. She had broken off a stalk of the fragrant herb and shredded it into a dish she’d prepared just days ago. She’d added some to the chicken stew she’d made for Hal just two days before he’d learned the truth... before the warmth in his eyes had turned to ice.
Nancy gripped her sides, literally aching inside.
“Are you ill?” Elizabeth asked.
Nancy shook her head, but she did feel ill... with regret.
“Come on,” Elizabeth said, moving them off the path. “We’ll sneak into our nest and talk just like we used to do.”
They rounded a cluster of bushes and ducked into their private sanctuary. They’d spent countless hours playing and talking together in the hidden cove of honeysuckle bushes. Inside, where it was shaded and cool, they sat at the edge of a small stream that cut through their mother’s garden and meandered across the large field at the back of their property. Nancy and Elizabeth had shared many heartaches, secrets, and dreams in this place, so it felt natural for Nancy to pour her heart out to her sister. She told her everything.
“This is utterly heartbreaking, Nancy. To know you did this for me... it pains me deeply.” Elizabeth’s eyes were moist. “I would have rather married Robert and watched you marry Stuart, the man I love, than to see you suffer such heartache.”
Nancy knew Elizabeth meant every word. Her sister would have borne her own heartache to spare Nancy the same. That’s exactly why Nancy had left home and agreed to marry a stranger. She and Elizabeth looked out for one another. They always had. They always would.
“I wouldn’t have let you do that,” Nancy said, drying her eyes on the handkerchief clutched in her hand. She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. “I missed you terribly, Elizabeth. So many times I wanted to write to you, but I couldn’t. Not until I was sure.”
“Sure of what?”
Sunlight poked through the vines overhead and created a pattern across Elizabeth’s red hair. Her cheeks were rosy from the warm day and enhanced her soft features of her small jaw and full lips. Elizabeth was beautiful. They were twins, but Nancy had never seen herself as she saw Elizabeth. Nancy felt ordinary and unremarkable, but suddenly she wondered what Hal saw when he looked at her. Did he see her as she saw herself, as an ordinary girl? Or did he see the beauty that Nancy saw in Elizabeth when she looked at her twin?
“Sure of what?” Elizabeth asked again.
“That Hal really wanted to be my husband... that he wanted a real marriage with me.”
“You sent a letter to me so I’m assuming he demonstrated his desire?”
Nancy nodded, too choked by emotion to answer. He had demonstrated his feelings in so many ways. Every word he’d spoken, every gesture and action had been truthful and laced with good intentions. Laughter and singing and working together…dancing and sleeping in his arms, gazing at each other across the supper table or while playing cards with their friends or when working in his cluttered workshop... so many memories and every one of them broke her heart.
As if Elizabeth understood the path of Nancy’s thoughts, she sighed and leaned back on her hands. “If your husband is the kind of man you say he is, he’ll think all of this through and want you back.”
“Maybe,” Nancy whispered, but it seemed impossible at the moment. He was too angry. Too hurt.
“Give it some time. Every wound heals eventually.”
Nancy nodded, knowing there was truth to Elizabeth’s words. But wounds left scars and some wounds remained tender for years.
Hiding out and sharing secrets and heartaches with her sister gave Nancy a sense of home, and for that small comfort she was deeply grateful.
“What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked.
Nancy shook her head. She had no idea. What could she do?
“Will you go back?”
“I don’t know.” A rogue tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away, irritated by her loss of control. “Hal was really angry... and hurt by my deceit. I don’t know if he can forgive that.”
“Surely he understands why you answered the advertisement and used Mother’s maiden name?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t think Hal condemns me for why I ran off. He’s hurt because I allowed him to open his heart, to make himself vulnerable to me, and that’s why my lie has wounded him so deeply.” Nancy sighed and peered through the undergrowth into the field where she’d raced horses. She’d been a reckless girl who embraced the thrill of danger. She’d approached becoming a mail order bride with the same wild abandon. Only now the danger wasn’t just physical. It was emotional and her heart would pay the price. Hal already was suffering her reckless decision.
“Perhaps you should write to him,” Elizabeth suggested. “Maybe if you apologize—”
“No,” Nancy said, cutting in. “I owe him more than a letter. I love him and never meant to hurt him, but I did.” Lifting her chin, Nancy said, “As soon as Daddy is well enough to travel, the two of us are going to Fredonia. We both have business with Hal Grayson.” With that, Nancy got to her feet and whacked debris from her skirt.
Elizabeth grinned and stood beside her. “Now that’s the sister I remember.”
Nancy knew she would go back to Fredonia, with or without her father, but for all her bravado she found no comfort in her decision because Hal may not want her back. The thought of a life without him was too awful to contemplate.
Three weeks had passed since Nancy left for Buffalo and Hal hadn’t heard a word from her. He thought she might have at least let him know how her father was faring, but Hal had made it clear he loathed the man, so why would Nancy bother? He sat in his workshop staring at a decorative frame he was carving for a mirror on a lady’s dressing table. Captain was flopped on the bench watching as Hal worked his gouge, roughing out the pattern of oak leaves and acorns around the outer edge of the piece.
It was well past midnight and the lantern wick was burned to a nub.
An occasional scurry or flutter from the barn loft was the only sound to break the deep silence. Captain lifted his head, perked his ears and listened for minute or two. Then he sighed, lowered his nose to his paws again and stared at Hal with sad, accusing eyes.
“I don’t blame you for holding a grudge, Captain. This woodshop is one sad place these days.”
Hal didn’t know when he’d started talking to the cat, but Captain seemed to understand every word. He wondered if Captain was also plagued by images and memories from the many nights Nancy had helped in the woodshop. Despite managing her own
chores, she’d gladly joined him here each evening. She played with Captain and flirted with Hal while tending his ledger and helping him build furniture. She brought laughter and light to his shop and to his life.
If there was any little job Nancy could do to ease Hal’s burden, she would roll up her sleeves and dig in. At every turn she had been there to offer comfort and assistance and tender passion. The void her absence left in his life had carved a canyon of grief in his chest. Hal missed her so deeply he ached. He couldn’t eat the meals Mary Tucker and Martha Fiske delivered each evening. He couldn’t sleep in the bed he’d shared with Nancy, so he spent wakeless nights on the sofa. He couldn’t enter the kitchen without expecting to see Nancy tending to meals or her kitchen chores. But the worst thing, the absolutely most painful reminder was the silent pianoforte, the one treasure she’d loved and he’d been able to give her.
Thoughts of their last conversation dredged up memories and turned Hal’s thoughts to his father. His dad had told him that Lloyd Tremont was not responsible for their hardship, but Hal had seen Tremont’s bank repossessing the sawmill their family depended on. What other conclusion could Hal have drawn? To Tremont’s credit, the man had apologized, but he’d refused to listen to reason. Hal had presented his savings, had promised to send additional payments to the bank each payday, had offered to work for Tremont until the debt was paid. But Tremont insisted it was too late and he had no recourse but to repossess the mill.
Perhaps that was true, but the man hadn’t needed to sell the mill to their competitor. That was the final injury that Hal couldn’t accept. But it was too late to do anything about it and so Hal had walked away.
It had been too late for him to help save the mill, to repair his relationship with his father, to remain in Buffalo another day. And so he’d returned to Fredonia to work and to think and to come up with a way to help his family.
But John’s death and Nancy’s arrival had turned Hal’s life upside down.
Nancy’s leaving had stirred up a lot of painful memories and even more questions. Hal needed answers and he knew he would only find them in Buffalo.
For a long while Hal sat on the milk churn that Nancy had used as a stool, petting Captain and thinking. Finally, as the lantern wick flickered, warning it was in its final minutes of lighting the shop, Hal planted his hands on his knees and stood. “All right, Captain, Mary Tucker will be taking care of you for a few days. Behave yourself and stay off my tools.”
Captain sprawled across several chisels, eyes mere slits as he peered indifferently at Hal.
Hal shook his head. “Well, there’s no need to be so upset about my leaving. I’ll come back.”
Captain didn’t bat an eye. He stretched out one back leg and sighed as if bored with the whole conversation.
Hal snorted, ruffled the cat’s ears and wondered when he’d grown so protective of the little rascal. “Don’t eat anything that’s going to make you sick.”
Hal knew he didn’t need to worry about Captain. He could come in and out of the barn through a small hole in a broken wall board, and Mary Tucker would spoil Captain with table scraps.
With a final round of petting for Captain, Hal then stashed his tools and left the barn.
As soon as he got inside, he packed his valise. At first light the next morning he strode out Liberty Street toward Thomas Drake’s house to do what he should have done weeks ago.
Chapter Twenty-five
It was the second day that Nancy’s father had felt well enough to sit in the family parlor. He was fully alert and much stronger, which relieved her mind considerably. But the look in his eyes concerned her.
“Are you comfortable, Daddy?” she asked, after tucking him into his favorite chair and covering him with a blue and gray lap quilt she and Elizabeth had made for him last Christmas. His pallor still matched his gray hair, and his eyes were ringed with dark circles, but the strength in his voice and assured Nancy that he was improving.
“Sit down, Nancy.” Her father gestured to the large padded footstool his feet were resting on. “We need to talk.”
The command in his voice turned Nancy’s knees to water and she sagged onto the footstool. Even at seventeen years old and a married woman, she still felt a rock in her gut when her father used that steely tone of voice with her.
“Do you have any idea the worry you put me and your mother and sister through?”
She did and deeply regretted it. “I never meant to be so inconsiderate, Daddy. I never meant to hurt or worry you.”
“Then what were you thinking running off like that?” he asked, his voice cracking with intensity.
“Daddy, I know you’re upset, and rightfully so, but please don’t get yourself worked up.” Nancy sat on the edge of the footstool and took her father’s hand in her own. He’d always been a robust, strong man, but today his hand trembled and his grip was weak. “Elizabeth told me you collapsed after reading my letter. I’m... I’m so sorry.” She paused a moment and swallowed the emotion pushing up her throat. She couldn’t cry. She was here to comfort her father, not the reverse. And she deserved his anger. So she choked back her feelings and said, “I thought I was doing something kind and loving for Elizabeth, but I can see now that my actions caused immeasurable pain and heartbreak for the people I love most.”
Her father’s eyes welled up and he squeezed her hand, surprising her with his strength. “Your disappearance scared me to death. We searched the woods and fields and out buildings numerous times. When we found no sign of you, Elizabeth suggested you’d run off to avoid marrying Stuart. I had officials and my own men looking for you everywhere. Each day that passed was another twenty-four hours your mother and I spent living in panic. I couldn’t imagine where you’d gone off to. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”
“I tried, Daddy. I believed you wouldn’t change your mind and I just couldn’t break Elizabeth’s heart. I couldn’t imagine being Stuart’s wife knowing that every family event would subject Elizabeth to the pain of seeing Stuart and I married. And I couldn’t bear to know that my husband would never be able to love me because he already loved my sister.”
Her father shook his head, his gray hair shining in the parlor lanterns. “I had no idea.”
“I couldn’t break Elizabeth’s trust. I was afraid that telling you she had feelings for Stuart would land her in trouble and perhaps even get Stuart banished from calling here. You’re quite protective where your daughters are concerned.”
“And too indulgent with you, I fear.” Disappointment filled his expression. “I’ve enabled your bad behavior.”
“No, Daddy. You taught me to be honest and live with integrity. I used my love for Elizabeth to justify a couple of lies, but I was wrong and those lies hurt people. I’m terribly ashamed and remorseful and would never again use such poor judgement. You had nothing to do with my bad decisions.”
“Yes, I did. I let my girls down. I thought I was providing a safe and good future for you and Elizabeth. I didn’t realize I was breaking your hearts.” Tears beaded up in his eyes. “You don’t know how deeply that pains me.”
In the face of his emotional struggle, Nancy bit her lip and fought her own emotional battle. She’d never seen her father cry. He was a man in charge, a man in command of all around him. He was a leader for the men who worked for his bank. The highly paid household staff catered to his needs with a sense of honor and respect. Lloyd Tremont was a pillar of the community and a man of great love and strength to his wife and daughters. He wasn’t a man who cried.
And yet he did.
He opened his arms, and Nancy leaned into the warmth and security of her father’s embrace. The scent of his hair, freshly washed that morning, and the smell of his cologne and laundered shirt was the scent of security, home, and love. She felt the familiar and deep comfort of her father’s arms, and yet she recognized she was no longer a girl seeking solace but rather a daughter comforting her father. And she was a woman in need of her husband’s ar
ms. For a long minute her father held her, and when his arms trembled, Nancy held him. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Daddy.”
“It certainly appears that way,” he said, easing her back in his arms and then putting a handkerchief to his nose. “Tell me about this man you’ve married. I’m surprised Hal Grayson would marry my daughter unless it was to hurt me.” He frowned. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“Of course not, Daddy. He didn’t even know I was your daughter.”
He froze with the handkerchief over his nose, his brown eyes wide. “How could he not?”
“I lied about my name.”
His hand fell to his lap, the handkerchief forgotten. “You did what? How did you meet and marry then? I thought the young man had left the area.”
Nancy felt sick inside. “He did leave the area, Daddy.” And so Nancy spent the next several minutes catching her father up on her travels, trials, her lies, and ultimately the demise of her marriage. “Our marriage problems are my fault, Daddy. I wasn’t truthful with Hal. He’s understandably angry now, but he is truly a kind and wonderful man.”
“Oh, Nancy....” Her father shook his head, disappointment in his eyes. “In all my days I’d have never expected this behavior from you.”
His chastising hurt. Her sinuses stung and she had to bite her lip to hold back her tears of remorse and regret.
“So your young man is rightfully upset by your deceit?”
She nodded. “And my lie is made even worse because Hal believes you treated his father, Daniel, unfairly when you repossessed his mill. Is that true, Daddy?”
His frown deepened. “I can assure you I dealt fairly with his father. That young man better not have filled your ears with half-truths or hurt you in any way.”
“Of course he didn’t, Daddy. It was I who hurt him. And that is precisely why he was so hurt and angry. I’m not sure he can forgive me.” Saying the words aloud made them more real. To her horror, her eyes welled up and she clamped her teeth down on her lip. “I… I’m giving him some time to accept the truth of our situation and think things through. But I need to go home... back to Fredonia and try to fix this mess I’ve created. I need you to go with me, Daddy. You and Hal need to talk about your dealings with his father.”
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