by Annie Boone
Mama slipped the dress over Rebecca’s head, and fastened the tiny buttons all the way up the back. Rebecca was surprised at how low cut the gown was, with no lace inlay. It was the kind of gown that a wife, or perhaps a wealthy widow, might wear, not an unmarried girl. Rebecca’s breasts looked swollen and creamy as they burst out of the bodice, and she couldn’t stop herself from raising her hands as if to hide them.
Mama slapped her hands away. “Don’t be so foolish,” she said impatiently. “A woman must use whatever assets she possesses to make the right match.”
“And you are certain that Coby Jenkes is the right man for me?” Rebecca asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She was sure that Mr. Jenkes was a nice enough man, but he was twice her age, fat and had breath that would down a bull. Rebecca simply could not see any redeeming features in the man as a husband other than the lure of his family’s lands and influence.
Mama did not respond, but gave Rebecca a withering look and then made her turn left and right, admiring her creation. “Now, I think we should leave most of your hair loose about your shoulders, to show off its color and shine, but we should pin up the front.” Mama pushed Rebecca towards the dressing table and with a gentle downward pressure on her shoulder, made Rebecca take a seat in front of the looking glass.
As her mother applied powder and a little tinge of rouge, she pinched her cheeks, too. Rebecca felt unsettled. Wringing her hands, she sighed.
“Be still, Rebecca. I can’t get this done with you fidgeting like this.” She took the hairbrush and carefully brushed, pinned, pulled and braided her tresses.
Rebecca could see an adult beauty she had not known she possessed begin to emerge. Her cheekbones suddenly seemed more pronounced, her eyes larger and even more cat-like. And her lips, full and blood red, seemed to have taken on a sensuality that Rebecca felt uncomfortable with. Very uncomfortable, indeed.
“Now, you are perfect,” Mama announced.
Rebecca wasn’t so sure. She felt like she was a calf being fattened up ready for the Christmas feast. She wasn’t happy at all about being wrapped up and presented on a plate to a man she knew she could never love.
Chapter Three
The bell signaling the end of the school day rang loudly, and the children leapt to their feet, chattering excitedly as they began to exit the classroom. Hayden smiled as they grabbed their coats and hats from the hooks in the corridor, and scurried homewards to undertake their chores, and, if they were lucky, play ball in the streets.
So many people had warned him against taking the position here in Springville. His previous life as a schoolmaster in Boston had in no way prepared him for teaching in a rural Texas town. But, Hayden enjoyed the different challenges of teaching here, and was glad that he had overcome his family’s concerns and had chosen to accept the post. For almost seven years he had made the little town his home, and every year the school grew – and every year his pupils seemed to be more eager to learn.
“Mr. Galsworthy, might I have a brief word with you if you have time?” Mrs. Ellen Temple, one of the three teachers now employed at the ever-growing school, asked him as they met in the corridor.
“Of course,” Hayden said warmly. Mrs. Temple had taught the youngest children in the school from the very first day it had opened, leaving him free to school the older ones. She was an excellent teacher, with boundless patience, and a way with the children that encouraged them to want to learn. By the time they reached Hayden’s classes they were eager and engaged. He couldn’t ask for better pupils.
“I was wondering about whether I should enroll Michael, or if it might be too early? I know we normally don’t permit children to enter the school until they are seven, but he is a very clever boy and I fear he may get bored without something to interest him and stretch him.”
Michael was the Temple’s oldest child, and he was indeed curious and interested in everything around him, always asking his mother how things worked, and why they were the way they were.
“I don’t see why we can’t admit him early,” Hayden said thoughtfully. “We let Marcie Gindritch start early. And David Wilkie, too. I think you’re right, he would do very well.”
“I am so glad that you think so.” She clasped her hands together happily, her generous smile warming Hayden’s heart. “He will be so very excited. I have told him that he will have to go into Mrs. Tanner’s class. I think it best, don’t you? That I don’t teach him, I mean.”
“I think that is an excellent idea. There is no reason why you shouldn’t teach him, but I have known children to be teased by the other students when their parent is the teacher. We would not want to encourage such behaviors here.”
Ellen beamed at him, and then bustled away, clearly eager to get home to her children and her husband. Hayden had been concerned when she first told him she was with child that Ellen might not return to teaching, but she had been determined that she could manage. He’d agreed to take on another teacher to take some of the burden from her shoulders. The school had expanded much since those early days, teaching pupils from all around the area, and had been able to take on two new teachers, lessening the burden on himself and Mrs. Temple.
It was just as well, as Mrs. Temple now had three children. Of course, she only worked for a few hours each day now, but she was still utterly devoted to her pupils and Hayden knew much of the school’s success was down to her.
Hayden wished that he were so happy to face the evening ahead as Mrs. Temple always seemed to be, but he had been invited to a supper party tonight, at the Jenkes ranch. He had a stack of marking for his students to undertake, and he much preferred his own company, so would far rather remain at home. But, as schoolmaster, he was expected to be sociable and so from time to time he accepted invitations from a favored few of those he received from the townsfolk.
However, he had felt more than a little pressured into accepting this one. Old Man Jenkes, had donated a rather large sum of money to the school when one of his grandchildren had commenced his studies earlier in the year. Every time one of the Jenkes family came by the school, there was an offer of hospitality. Hayden had tried to decline, but pressure was often wielded, and so he had begun to agree to attending the third of each such invitations out of politeness.
At least he would not be the only guest this evening, Hayden thought. He’d attended a number of parties where he was the only guest and they had been difficult occasions, indeed. None of the ranching family were particularly good conversationalists, and even fewer were educated on anything other than the work they did every day. They may have land and money, but they were generally an uneducated lot.
Hayden checked in on each of the classrooms to ensure nobody else remained inside the schoolhouse, made his way outside and locked the doors behind him. He remembered the first day he had arrived in Springville, the school was still being built, and Hayden had been shocked at how small it seemed in comparison to the school he had just left in Boston. Now, as the largest building in town, other than the church, it seemed so much grander than it had that day. He was proud of everything they had achieved here, and he looked forward to continuing the hard work to make it the best school in Texas.
The neat cottage next door to the school had become his home when he took on the post. He strolled up his garden path and let himself in through the door, noting that its red paint was fading and flaking in places. He was thankful that the house had been furnished simply, though with obvious thought as to what he might need. But, from time to time, Hayden often felt that there was something missing.
His mother continually wrote telling him exactly what the missing piece was. She called it a woman’s touch. But Hayden knew all too well how lonely a house can feel when there is no love within it. His home was missing love, but he was not yet healed sufficiently to consider trying again.
Just seven months before he had made his move to Springville, he’d lost his wife, Veronica, to diphtheria. His grief, and the emptiness of thei
r home without her, had been important factors in his decision to move to Texas against the advice of everyone he knew. Every one of them had told him his grief would pass, that such a drastic change was not necessary. He was glad, every single day, he hadn’t listened to them. His life had been enriched by his position here in Springville.
Once inside his home Hayden stripped off his tailored jacket and vest, taking them upstairs to hang them carefully in his armoire. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror above the washstand and realized that he would need to have a shave before going out that evening. Reluctantly he poured some water over the cake of shaving soap and began to lather it with a stubby brush. He laid a clean towel beside the basin and poured water into the bowl before he slathered the foamy soap over his cheeks, neck and upper lip.
He snapped open the cut-throat razor he kept on a shelf above the washstand, and quickly sharpened it on the strap of thick leather hanging from a hook on the washstand itself, then began to run the sharp blade carefully over his skin. He pulled areas tight with one hand, as he skillfully maneuvered the razor to remove every hair, neatening up his sideburns, rinsing the knife from time to time in the bowl of water.
Finally, he rinsed his face, and then patted it dry with the towel. He looked at himself closely, moving his head from side to side, to ensure he hadn’t missed any errant whiskers. Satisfied that he’d done a good job, he moved to a trunk beside the bed and pulled out a clean and carefully pressed linen shirt. He quickly re-dressed in a smart evening suit, with a cream silk cravat and matching handkerchief.
Feeling odd dressed in such fine clothes in the small and unpretentious Texas town, he frowned at his reflection in the mirror. The wealthy seemed to always demand such standards no matter where they were.
“Guess I’ll just go and not worry about it. It’s part of my job.” He smiled wryly at his reflection and turned to go.
Chapter Four
As dusk fell, and sure that he now looked presentable, Hayden made his way back downstairs and out into the fading light. He walked briskly to the public stable across the road where Wilf Forester was busy shoeing a fine looking bay stallion.
“Good evening,” Hayden said, as he moved into Wilf’s eyeline.
“And to you, Mr. Galsworthy. Do you need a mount?”
“I do, and I am sorry I did not stop by earlier to ask after one,” Hayden said, honestly. He had meant to do so while the children took their break for lunch but a minor incident with one of the children had swept it from his mind.
“Jinx is rested and available, if you can saddle him up yourself? I’ve got another four horses to shoe before nightfall,” Wilf said, with a wry grin.
“I’d be happy to,” Hayden said, moving towards the stall where his favorite of the horses in the Springville public stables was hanging his head over the stall door, trying to reach a bag of hay that was hanging up to the left.
“Hey boy,” he said, as he confidently moved towards the chestnut gelding with the star-shaped blaze on his nose. Jinx nickered a greeting, and let Hayden scratch his nose and nuzzle at his neck before he opened the stall door and led the horse into the courtyard. Jinx stood patiently as Hayden fitted a bridle, and then a saddle. With a final check of all the fastenings, Hayden put his foot into the stirrup and with a quick bounce, heaved himself up onto the animal’s back. Jinx took a couple of steps to the rear and then the side as Hayden gently let him get used to his weight, muttering soft calming words.
As Jinx settled, Hayden squeezed his legs against the gelding’s warm, muscular body and they set off at a steady walk. “Good boy,” Hayden said to the horse, then turned back to Wilf, who grinned up at him. “I’ll have him back around ten o’clock tonight.”
“No hurry, I’ll probably still be here,” Wilf said. “Not as if I have anyone to go home to, after all.”
Hayden was surprised to hear the note of bitterness in Wilf’s voice. The young man had only recently moved to Springville, and so they did not know one another very well, but Wilf was very likeable, and was a very talented blacksmith. He should have no trouble in finding companionship, though maybe he wanted more than just friendship? It would explain why the kindly man was always to be found here, busy caring for the horses or manning the forge. Keeping himself busy was Hayden’s salve, too, helping to keep his mind from all he had lost.
Steadily Hayden made his way along Main Road and turned off to the right, just past the church at the far end, to take the track that led up to the Jenkes ranch. He enjoyed riding out around Springville. Though much of this part of Texas was desert and empty plains, the valley where Springville sat and the hills that surrounded it were lush and green. He often walked, or hired a horse to explore the countryside, finding much inspiration and lots of critters and bugs to add to his teaching. He also found the birdsong and the fresh air that accompanied the solitude soothing, in contrast to the deafening silence and loneliness he so often fell prey to while he was home alone.
The Jenkes ranch loomed up out of nowhere with its sprawling vastness almost vulgar. Hayden didn’t feel there was any need to be so blatant about showing everyone how wealthy you might be. He knew that he would hate to live in a place like this. Why, it was so big that it would be possible for the members of the family to never even encounter one another at all if they didn’t wish to.
A neat gig sat outside the house, with seats for four and a pretty grey pony in the shafts. A young boy was placing a nosebag over the animal’s neck. “Hey there, Hank,” he said brightly, greeting one of his old students. Hank Whitton wasn’t very bright, but he had tried hard and was very strong and athletic. He was also very practical and could fix just about anything in no time at all.
“Good evening, sir,” Hank said, rushing to take Jinx’s reigns. “I’ll look after him for you.”
“I’m sure you will,” Hayden said, grinning at the lad. “So, you’re working for Old Man Jenkes now?”
“Yes, sir. My daddy says I can learn a lot here.”
“I’m sure you will. Will your daddy want you back, to help him out once you’re done here?”
“I hope so,” Hank said happily. “He wants me to learn how to manage big herds, so I guess Daddy must want to grow ours, someday.”
“I’d guess he does too. Well, I am sure you will do very well here.”
Hayden would much rather have stayed outside with Hank and the horses, but footsteps on the broad porch that spanned the entire outside of the house told him he was too late to try and escape.
He looked up to see Coby Jenkes and taking the steps up towards him two at a time, was by the other man’s side in no time. They shook hands firmly. “Good to see you, mighty glad you could come,” Coby said, his tone friendly enough, but there was a coldness in his pale blue eyes that always made Hayden feel a little uncomfortable. He didn’t doubt that Coby Jenkes could be a hard man when he needed to be.
“Thank you for inviting me. It will be good to eat a home-cooked meal. I barely manage more than a hunk of bread and a slab of ham on a school night,” he said, making a slightly awkward joke.
“Allison will feed you well, that’s for sure,” Coby said, flicking a match against the wall and lighting up a cheroot. “The Holdsworths are already here, as are my sister, Harriet, and her family. Come on inside.”
Despite having lived in Springville for almost seven years, Hayden did not know the Holdsworth’s well. He knew they had the ranch next door to this one, but none of them were seen often in town, though they were regular church goers. They kept to themselves, barely speaking to anyone other than Pastor Fletcher. But, anyone who might take Old Man Jenkes’ attention away from Hayden would be a good thing, and so taking a deep breath he followed Coby inside.
Everyone was gathered in the large and airy drawing room at the front of the house. Harriet Gardener, Old Man Jenkes’ oldest daughter stood near the window, her hand resting lightly on the shoulder of her son, Kieran, a student at the school. Old Man Jenkes was sitt
ing in his usual chair by the fire. He sat as though holding court, his eyes watching everybody in the room closely.
Harriet’s husband, Frederick, a lawyer, stood at the patriarch’s side. Old Man Jenkes, looked bored as Frederick spoke of an opportunity he had to work in Dallas. “Of course, we hate to leave Springville,” he said, “since this has been Harriet’s home for most of her life, but this is an incredible opportunity.”
“And I suppose you want me to help you to buy a house over there?” Old Man Jenkes replied, a look of disgust on his craggy features. “I don’t doubt you’ll want a fancy town house in a nice area, maybe something a bit more roomy than your place here in town.”
“Only as a loan,” Frederick said quickly. “Just until I can get set up. I have to buy into the partnership and pay my way at the firm. It will take me only a short time to build up a new clientele, I’m sure.”
As Hayden entered the room everyone fell silent, and turned their eyes from the tense discussion towards him. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. But then, across the room, Hayden spied someone else who was clearly just as reluctant to be amongst this company as he himself was.
A beautiful young woman, with the most glorious mane of dark chocolate hair he had ever seen, was perched on an elegant velvet upholstered chair. She looked up at him, and her hands fluttered up from her lap to her chest. She was wearing a revealing low cut gown that seemed utterly out of place in such a setting, and on such a young and innocent girl. But, despite her clear anxious unhappiness, Hayden was mesmerized. He could lose himself in her green cat-like eyes for all eternity, if only she would let him.
Chapter Five
The young man standing in the doorway greeted everyone politely. He had a shy smile, and hair that was in need of cutting. It curled up at the back as it hit his neatly starched collar which was a strangely unkempt aspect to what was an otherwise neatly turned out young man. Rebecca couldn’t tell what color his eyes were behind the wire-rimmed spectacles, but he looked kind and sweet. Standing next to Coby Jenkes, he was the very picture of perfection. Young and handsome, educated and well-mannered. Opposite of the younger of the Jenkes men.