by Amelia Rose
“Margaret dear, wake up!” Clara said softly, shaking her by the shoulder. “Margaret, you’ve been asleep for half the day. You have to wake up!”
“Clara? What time is it?” she asked sleepily.
“The sun’s been up for several hours, but that’s of no matter, you needed your rest after your journey. This is the matter! This!” Clara held out a sheet of paper with scrawled handwriting on it. “It’s Mr. O’Bryan! He’s asking to come by and escort you on a walk this afternoon!”
“What?” Margaret asked, sitting up and brushing her unruly hair back. “He’s coming here?”
“Yes! Hurry, get up. We have to fix you up with a new dress, maybe ties your hair on some rags for curl. But first, you’ve got to eat something. You were so tired you only picked at your dinner last night, and there’s no telling when you had a good meal last.” She poured some water from the pitcher on the wash stand and placed fresh linen beside it. “This will get you through your breakfast, and I’ll go heat some water on the stove to pour you a proper bath. It’s so exciting! A real offer of courtship!”
Margaret shook her head as Clara flittered out of the room and busied herself in the kitchen. She climbed out of bed and washed up to the background sounds of Clara singing to herself and fixing some breakfast. She dressed in the same dress she’d had on the day before to the sound of the washtub being dragged across the floor closer to the back door then filled with splashing cascades of water.
“Can I help you cook, or with the washing?” Margaret asked, but Clara cut her off.
“Oh no, you don’t have to worry about a thing! There’s plenty of time for chores later. Right now, you have to eat a good breakfast and then we’ll get you cleaned up. I have a dress that will suit you wonderfully for today, it’s simple but well-fitted. You can wear that while we wash and hang all of your things. I know they can’t be that fresh after being worn during your journey.”
Clara darted from point to point in the kitchen, gathering breakfast, filling the kettle, heading to the table to lay out a plate and cup, and then back to the bucket of freshly drawn water again. Margaret watched her movements, so precise but yet still so frantic, like a hummingbird flitting around a vine of morning glories.
“Why Clara, you’re more excited than I am! What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know!” she answered, stopping to press a hand to her chest and laugh. “I am just so happy for you! Mr. O’Bryan could have just written off for a wife and taken you to the town hall the moment you stepped off the train, but he won’t. He wants to court you proper, like a true gentleman. It just warms my heart.”
“And mine too, I’ll admit,” Margaret answered with a smile. “But come… ‘tis just a typical day, not a wedding day or anything of the sort! We’ve still got chores to do, promises of courting or no, although I will take you up on your offer of a bath. I almost hated to lie down on your linens last night after being on the train for so long!”
When the water was ready in the tub, Clara hung a sheet across two nails to provide some privacy. She opened the back door to the cabin to let in a breeze, and to give her guest a view of the mountains in the distance to watch and relax. Margaret undressed and sank down into the water facing the hillside, squirming this way and that to fit as much of herself in the basin as possible.
“Did you find the jar of soap on the shelf?” Clara called from the other side of the sheet as she tidied up.
“Aye, thank you! It smells lovely, not like the lye soap I’m used to. How did you scent it?” she asked, reaching into the jar and scraping up a thin wedge to wash with.
“Oh, it’s just some wildflowers that I found on a walk with Ned to the creek. It was so kind of him, we were on our way to be married and he insisted we stop to gather some flowers for a proper bouquet. He even tucked a daisy in the buttonhole of his jacket. He is the most thoughtful man, I tell you.” She paused while ringing out a wash rag, remembering the day fondly. “Afterward, I brought the flowers home with us and hung them to dry, then crushed them into the soap as it was simmering. I never could stand the smell of lye soap, but I’m not about to go spending any precious coins on the fancy kind they sell in town! Not when the valley’s full of all that nature has to offer!”
“Could you teach me then?” Margaret called.
“Teach you? Teach you what, dear?”
“All of it. I’ve only lived in the city, and back in Ireland I lived on the sea. I’ve never seen a place such as this one, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about what grows here and what can be used in my home.”
“Of course! I’m happy to do it. My first husband was a farmer too—well, until the fighting came and he enlisted. I’ve always lived in the countryside. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to live in one of those cities, not with the stories I’ve heard about them. Oh dear, I let this soak too long. You just keep washing, I’m going to go hang these things on the line. Just call out if you need me!”
Margaret heard the front door of the cabin close, and relaxed a little more. It wouldn’t do to have her hostess be put out by her nakedness if a gust of wind blew the sheet back, so she’d kept the towel across her while she soaked. Now, with Clara out hanging the linens, she could let down her guard and give herself a thorough scrubbing.
Instead, it was anything but relaxing. A movement out of the corner of her eye caused Margaret to look up and she almost immediately screamed, clutching at the towel again and forcing herself even lower in the tub. The sudden motion scraped her back painfully and caused her to hit the back of her head against the rim of the washtub, but those pains were nothing compared to the knowledge that a man was walking behind the cabin and could easily see her.
The man looked up and pondered both the screaming and the scene before him. He froze in shock and shame for a moment, then took off running at a dead sprint back the way he’d come.
“Margaret! Margaret, I’m coming!” Clara screamed, racing around the back of the house, running so fast her skirt flew out around her legs. She reached the porch and scrambled up the steps, then stopped, a hand pressed to her heart as she gasped for air. “I heard you scream. What’s the matter? What happened?”
Margaret could only point towards the field beyond the cabin as tears of shame stung her eyes. Finally she choked back her humiliation and stammered, “There… there was a man over there. I’m afeared it was Mr. O’Bryan! I just know he saw me, Clara!”
“What? What would Mr. O’Bryan be doing here?” Clara asked, averting her eyes by turning and looking out over the empty field. “Are you sure you saw someone? You didn’t imagine it?” Margaret shook her head and wept silently from embarrassment. “Maybe you simply fell asleep from the warm water, and you dreamed it?”
“No Clara, I saw him. And he looked right at me when I screamed. What must he think of me now, a woman who brazenly washes where anyone could happen by and see her? He won’t even look at me, let alone speak to me now, I’m sure of it!”
“Oh, you poor dear. I’m sure it can’t be as bad as all that. Besides, what would he have even been doing here? If he was here, as you say, then he’s the one in the wrong! He clearly stated in his letter that he would be by this afternoon. He has no business lurking about another man’s property while there’s only women at home!” Clara was indignant at the thought that Declan might be the one to be scandalized. She frowned, standing with her hands firmly planted on her hips, ready to take part in battle for the sake of Margaret’s honor. “Well, this will never do. I’ve got half a mind to march over to his place and demand that Ned give an accounting of the young man’s behavior. It was Ned who should have talked him out of coming here!”
Margaret looked up sharply, her voice sinking to a whisper. “Oh Clara, you don’t think he was coming here because… because something’s happened to Ned?”
Clara’s face went white, but then she shook her head. “No, dear. He would have ridden on horseback if it was urgent, and he would have seen me from the cart pa
th then. But come on, let’s get you out of that water and dressed, and we’ll sort this out.”
She left Margaret to finish washing, then handed in the kettle filled with more hot water for her to rinse. Margaret kicked the door firmly shut with a loud slam before moving another inch in the water, just in case.
Chapter Seven