by Sarah Pawley
It was late Saturday afternoon. The boys were out hunting. Mrs. Langdon was in the garden, and Mr. Langdon was away from home, seeing a friend. As for Grace, she went on a fishing trip of her own. It was something, other than her books, that gave her peace of mind. And at least she had Pilot. If she didn't have a good human companion, at least she had a canine friend to rely on…and he was quiet, which she was grateful for. After a day dealing with rowdy brothers, a calm companion was quite welcome.
They wandered down to the riverbank, where their little rowboat was tied. Pilot didn't have to be encouraged to get in. He bounded from the bank right into the bottom of the boat, sat down, and waited patiently as his mistress got in and readied the paddles. Grace smiled as she looked at him. He couldn't wait until they got into the deep water where the ducks gathered, and she knew that as soon as they rowed out and dropped anchor, he would not be able to resist. And sure enough, that's what he did, jumping over the side and into the water with a yelp and a splash. She just let him go. When he got tired, he would be back. She picked up her pole, cast her line, and waited for a bite. All was quiet and serene, except for the sound of honking ducks and the water that her dog was paddling. For the first time in a long while, she felt quite content in body and mind.
Until she heard a voice, calling from across the way.
She rolled her eyes skyward, hoping to heaven that whoever it was would just go away. But after a moment of silence, the voice called out again. It was a male voice, probably one of her brothers. She couldn't be absolutely sure until she looked…and she didn’t want to look.
"Hello out there!” the voice called.
She tried to ignore it. But her curiosity had a way of getting the better of her, and reluctantly, she turned to look. Her eyes widened with surprise, pleasantly so, when she saw that it was Charlie who was calling her. Like a blindsided fool, she lifted her hand and waved slightly. For a moment she just sat there, staring. Then, he called out to her again, his voice playful.
"What? Do you want me to swim over to you?"
For a moment she felt quite the fool. But she was never one to stay that course for long, and she smiled a little to herself as she replied, "What's good for my dog is good for me."
She reeled in her line quickly, put her pole down in the bottom of the boat, and rowed over to him. Pilot, seeing the boat move, paddled not far behind it. When they got closer, she saw that Charlie was carrying a fishing pole himself, and a little tremor of anticipation traveled down her spine. Before she could say anything, he spoke first.
"I was just at your house looking for you. Your Mama told me you were fishing down here, so I thought I'd join you.
She took his fishing rod as he handed it to her, and carefully he stepped into the boat. Pilot, who was never one to be left behind, followed right after, sitting himself down at Grace’s knee.
They rowed back out, and when the dog jumped back into the water after the ducks, Grace was suddenly nervous at the realization that she and Charlie were quite alone. It didn't matter that they had spent many hours by themselves before, for that had been as children. Now that they were grown, the rules of the game had changed considerably, and she wasn't at all sure how to play. All she could think to do was ask a few questions. It seemed the most logical way to ease the tension.
"How’ve you been?" she asked. It seemed like such a dumb question, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
He shrugged. "All right, I guess, all things considered. Did you hear he left me the old place? All the bottom land?"
"Really?" she asked. She smiled. "That's sure good to hear." She sobered a little, as she thought sadly of the father and son relationship that was so badly broken. "So then, maybe he didn't forget about you after all."
Charlie was silent. The brightness was gone from his face, the way it always was when they talked about his father. She didn't want to see that gloom every time they were together. There were happier things to talk about.
"So you're staying here for a while, are you?"
"I am," he replied, the shadows passing away. He seemed to brighten once again.
She smiled happily, her face warming. "I'm glad.” To that, he shook his head in agreement.
"Me, too.” Then he looked at her, and flashing that smooth smile of his…the one that sent a charge up her spine…he inclined his head slightly towards her, his voice soft.
"Besides. I wouldn't want to leave good company.”
She blushed deeper, flattered in the notion that he was talking about her. She didn't want to be trapped into the honey of his words, but somehow, she just couldn't help herself. His voice and words had a power she didn't understand. Or maybe, she just didn't want to.
The afternoon passed quickly. They talked of old memories, of his time in the service. He even offered to teach her how to drive. She’d never ridden in a motor vehicle before, and he laughed as he told her how nice it was to drive something without looking at the back end of a horse. They laughed often, and the time flew by as they talked of many things and went on catching fish. It seemed too soon that they had called it a day and were headed back to the house.
"You're quite a fisherwoman," he said, pointing to the large trio of catfish she held at her side. "You must have learned that from Jack. I remember how he used to take us fishing all the time."
Her expression sobered at the mention of her brother, and it didn't go unnoticed.
"I heard what happened, why he left and all," he said. "Aunt Mary and your Mama kept in touch through the years." He paused, and said gently, "You still miss him a lot, don't you?"
She could have given in to gloom. It was tempting, the notion of pouring her heart out to him…to let him be a hero, as men liked to be. How wonderful it would have been to hear soft, soothing words of comfort. That kind of attention would have been so heavenly. But she didn't want to linger in sadness. There had been too much of that lately. So she kept herself together, replying with a cool expression and a slight smile as she thought of her beloved brother.
"I miss him every day," she said. "But he's married now, and he's happy. That's what really matters."
He nodded his head. She saw it from the corner of her eye, and in that small gesture, they both sensed that a change of subject was due. It was he who initiated it, with a question.
"So how come you're not married yet? You're seventeen. A lot of girls your age are old married women, with at least two or three kids."
She smiled, and with a little laugh, she sighed. "Mama and Daddy wonder the same thing. So do all those old pea hens down at church. They'd have me marry old man Wilson if it meant I'd have a house full of babies. Can you imagine me with him?" She gave a shudder, to which he chuckled. Then he looked at her curiously.
"So you won't ever get married then?"
"Oh I didn't say that," she replied quickly. "But I want something special." She thought of the guide to her life, the book she loved most.
"Have you ever read Jane Eyre?" she asked.
He shrugged and shook his head.
"It's the most romantic story in the world," she said. "Jane is a poor, plain little woman. A governess, with no money and no family that wants her. She works for a dark, mysterious man, Mr. Rochester. He has a big secret he's keeping, but I won' tell you what it is, in case you ever read the book. To make a long story short, they fall madly in love. There are problems along the way of course, but in the end, they live happily ever after. And that is what I want."
He chuckled at her story. "You do know it's just a book, don't you? In real life, nothing ever ends with a fantastic happily ever after."
She shrugged. "Maybe not. But it’s the notion of finding your perfect mate that just makes my heart skip a beat. People can love like that, if they want to. Just look at Jack and Alice, how happy they are together. That’s what I want. I want someone who will love me with their whole heart and soul. When I fall in love, I'll give everything I've got, and maybe more. So why shouldn't the m
an I marry do the same for me?"
She waited for a wonderful response, something that would send her senses reeling. She wanted to hear him tell her what a romantic she was. She longed to hear great warmth in his tone…admiration for her passionate nature.
Instead, he snorted. He scoffed, letting out a great laugh, as if to say how stupid he thought she was. Then he shook his head at her, his smile and words both belittling her.
"You spend too much time reading stories.”
His laughter stung…very deeply. She didn’t know why it should bother her, but it did. She examined him closely, looking for some sign of tenderness or maybe even regret. But all she saw was him grinning, shaking his head. Maybe he doesn’t realize he just hurt my feelings, she thought. She waited a moment, and at last he seemed to realize she was staring at him. His expression was almost blank, clueless as he was.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied.
But it was something. A strange, sinking feeling is what it was. How it hurt to be laughed at, when she had opened up a little part of her soul. She wanted to ignore the hurt that had begun inside. She wanted to be unmoved by his ridicule, but it made her eyes sting with tears. She turned her head away, clenched her jaw, and took a deep, calming breath. The tremor of sorrow passed...and a feeling of frustration took its place. His question disrupted her thoughts.
“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”
Obviously, laughing at the wrong moment was something he did not understand.
Just like a man, she thought, To be so thoughtless. She wanted to say so to his face, but she forced the words back. She gave him a quiet reply. “Sometimes there’s just nothing to say.”
He shrugged, and in that little gesture she saw no caring, no remorse that he had hurt her feelings. He was simply moving on to the next subject, no questions to be asked. She wanted to tell him how he had just broken the magic spell for her, but he spoke before she could think of how to say it.
"Maybe I can think of something to talk about,” he said. He stopped in his tracks to look at her, his face becoming more serious. “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?"
Shock overwhelmed her. His question was so unexpected, to say the least. A marriage proposal? She was certain he was only teasing. He had to be. It was all a joke, meant to tease her. Nervously, she started to chuckle. It was her hope that he might laugh a little too, and then she would know he was only being silly. But he did not laugh. He wore a slight smile, but it was a half-hearted kind of gesture, as if he was bothered by her amusement.
“Did I say something funny?” he asked.
At his tone, she felt a twinge of anxiety, and perhaps a touch of fear. There was something unsettling in the way he spoke. But she brushed off that feeling of foreboding, and tried to draw out the humor in him. "You always were a fooler,” she said, putting on a smile.
They were now within distance of the house. She hoped to get to the security of her family, before he said anything else about marrying her. Even if it was a joke, it made her uncomfortable. The way he’d looked at her, and the way he’d not laughed along with her, made her feel strangely tense. She was thankful when one of her brothers came walking hurrying towards them. For once, a brother was a very welcome distraction.
"About dadgum time you two got back," Matthew said. "Mama and Daddy were about to send the hounds to sniff you out. They want you to stay for supper, Charlie." The two of them walked away, leaving her a few steps behind. And she had to say she was happy to have the moment to herself.
The idea of marrying Charlie made her very uncomfortable. Yes, he was her friend. And yes, she had wanted him at their supper table. But now, there would a sense of tension in the room, and she wished there could be some way to avoid it.
She looked at Charlie and Matthew, walking in front of her, and it angered her to think of her folks' sudden generosity. Not so long ago, Charlie had hardly been spoken of. Now they were inviting him to supper like he was one of the family? Something just didn't seem right.
With a shake of her head, she forced away her suspicions. Folks were always coming and going at the house. Now that Charlie was back in town, he was a neighbor, and wasn't it the right thing to do, inviting neighbors over to eat sometimes? As for the whole nonsense of she and Charlie getting married, she had to laugh at herself for getting so carried away. He'd always been a bit silly as a boy.
In all likelihood, this was just another one of those kinds of times.
It had to be one of those times.
* * * * *
The men were talking of fish. What else would the subject be, when they had it on their plates? Usually, fried catfish was one of her favorite foods. But not tonight. She found she had no appetite. And the reason for her loss of hunger was sitting right across from her.
She watched Charlie as he ate his supper, and she wondered if he knew how awful he looked. He talked with his mouth wide open, letting everyone see the food he’d just chewed up. And he was loud…obnoxiously so, shouting and carrying on just like her father and her brothers. They were all trying to talk over each other as they told their fishing stories. It was enough to make her sick. He dressed well, and his intelligence seemed to show in the way he spoke. Why, then, were his manners so atrocious? She didn’t know why she felt such disillusionment with him, and she felt guilty for having such shallow feelings. But she couldn’t help it. Her only hope now was to get through supper, and then, maybe she could make up some decent excuse to escape to an early bed.
Her father tapped the tabletop with his hand, commanding attention, but Grace only half-listened. What he said was usually directed at the boys, so it wasn’t of much concern to her. She leaned her head in her hand, looking away as her father spoke.
“Yesterday morning, I ran into Charlie here while I was on my way to work. He had something real important to ask me. Now, he has something he’d like to ask our little Gracie.”
She whipped her head around and a bolt of panic shot up her spine. It seemed in slow motion that she watched Charlie stand up, wiping his mouth with a cloth. She knew what he was going to say. She knew it as if she was saying the words herself, but she prayed it not to be so. She pleaded for help from heaven for it.
Dear Lord, please don’t let him say what I think he’ll say...Please Lord, get me out of this.
“I’ve been gone a long time,” he said. “But you sure can’t forget where you come from, or the people you left behind.” He came walking around the table, and in a moment he stood at her side. Slowly he reached out to take her hand.
She wanted to jerk her hand away, so unnerving was his touch. She wanted to turn and run away. But she was rooted where she stood, unable to escape, trapped like a rabbit in a snare…and then the moment was upon her.
“Grace Langdon, will you be my wife?”
For the first time in her life, she thought she might faint. She wanted to. If I could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be good for me, she quoted silently. But there was no such mercy, and she felt every eye in the room on her, waiting for her answer. She looked at them, then at him. She knew just what they expected. She knew what Charlie expected. But the answer she gave was her own, bubbling up from somewhere within, almost involuntarily.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
There was a collective gasp…And then the whole room became silent as the grave.
Chapter 4
“Friends and Enemies”
What happened next? She hardly knew, for it was a quick blur. She only knew that in a flash, Charlie had whisked her outside, away from her shocked and wide-eyed family. When he looked at her, his expression was serious, with no hint of softness. His eyes were cold...his tone low, but sharp.
“You’re fooling with me, aren’t you?”
She looked at him, shocked by the sound of his voice. Something inside of her hoped he was only teasing. But a little warning voice whisper
ed that this was no game. Still, she tried to keep her own voice light and pleasant, hoping he would soften his manner. Her words trembled with a nervous attempt at levity.
"You're the one who’s fooling, ain’t you?”
She laughed again, but he said nothing. And the longer she waited for him to reply, the more she realized he was quite serious. Her mouth turned down in a fretful line.
"Charlie, I can't marry you. It's just about the silliest idea I ever did hear of. It’s crazy."
His reply was firm. "What's so crazy about it?"
She didn't know how to answer. Just a little while ago, they’d been sharing a lovely afternoon. But now, he was starting to make her nervous. His green eyes, which had so moved her, now shined with repressed anger. It was frightening to see. But she spoke as bravely as she could.
"Charlie, we can’t get married! We hardly know each other.”
His brow furrowed. “We’ve known each other all our lives, Gracie Langdon. How much more familiar do we need to be?”
She tilted her head back, as if pleading to heaven for help. Her voice had a tone of frustration in it, and when she looked at him, her eyes pleaded for his understanding.
“Charlie, we were kids together. You’ve been gone all this time, and now you come back and just expect to marry me at the drop of a hat?”
He looked at her, his expression growing darker…and she realized that he meant just that. He wanted to be married and he didn’t want to wait. She slowly shook her head in denial.
“Charlie, I don’t want to get married,” she answered, more forcefully now. “I’m not ready.”
His response was bitter. “Not ready to marry me, is that what you’re saying?”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready to marry anyone.” She sighed, feeling the need to heal where she had wounded him. “It’s not that I don’t care about you. I do care, a lot. I always have. But I don’t love you, Charlie. Not the way two people should love each other, especially when they talk about getting married.”