Threads of Betrayal

by Monica Koldyke Miller

  Reagan smiled tolerantly. “Ma, she speaks to a ghost. How can you believe anything she says?”

  “I’ve known Henrietta my whole life. She’s like an aunt to me. Besides, she mentioned these things even before Frederic’s death.”

  “What things?”

  “Henrietta’s afflicted with insomnia, and thinks fresh air is the best cure. So, she always keeps her window open. She says many nights she’s heard what sounds like wagons passing by and people whispering in a heathen tongue. Sometimes, sounds of animals-”

  “And spooks and fairies and forest sprites, I’ll wager,” scoffed Reagan, dismissing the account as anything connected to the flight he had witnessed a month ago.

  “I should’ve known you’d ridicule that poor woman!” Katherine stood, glaring at her son. “Have you no sense of propriety?”

  “Now Ma, I didn’t say she didn’t hear something. I just don’t think what she heard was fleeing slaves. After all, it’d be safer to hide in the Negro settlement than in town.” Reagan recognized the provoked gleam in his mother’s eyes and stood as well. “I didn’t mean to imply…” he said, laughing, “…that Mrs. Livingston had lost her marbles!”

  “Oh you! You never take anything seriously,” she said, seizing a broom near the fireplace.

  Reagan raised a finger. “Now, just a minute…” As the bristles neared his face, he caught the handle, lowering it. “As I was about to say, Mrs. Livingston most probably heard the routine passage of wagons, and her imagination stretched the sounds into something more sinister.”

  “I won’t tolerate you ridiculing helpless women,” Katherine warned. “Is that understood, Mr. Smarty Pants?”

  “You’re right,” he said, setting the broom aside. “I shouldn’t tease you about your friends.” He kissed her brow before turning away.

  “Now where are you going?” she asked.

  “To the construction site,” he said. “But, I’ll be home for dinner.”

  At the new mill, Reagan canvassed the completed foundation before going inside. Few recognized the tall, bewhiskered man in workman’s garb as he inspected whipsaws and mill irons. He stopped to observe a saw wheel being bolted in place. Once started, the sharp-toothed blade would only halt to be sharpened or repaired.

  Reagan envisioned the path the logs would take as they wound their way through the mill. He could almost smell the sawdust and feel the vibration of machinery as timber became lumber. But without buyers, he knew the planks would remain stacked on docks.

  Reminded once again of his growing debts, Reagan decided to pay Amanda a visit. He thought he had arrived too late when on the road, the Bruester carriage passed by him. But his disappointment turned to hope when he saw through the window only George and Emily inside. Believing Amanda at home, he hurried the rest of the way and crossing the porch, knocked.

  “May I help you?” asked Wills, who answered the door.

  “I’m calling on Miss Bruester.”

  “Unfortunately, you just missed Mr. And Mrs. Bruester,” he said. “Perhaps you could return at a more convenient time.”

  Reagan smiled. “I fear you’ve misunderstood. I wish to see Miss Amanda. If I’m not mistaken, she’s home.” As if to prove his theory, a feminine hand drew back drapes from a nearby window.

  “I’m sorry,” the butler said. “Since neither parent is here, it’s unlikely Miss Amanda would welcome an unexpected guest.” Stepping back, he was about to close the door when interrupted by Amanda’s voice.

  “Wills, Mr. Burnsfield and I have already been introduced.”

  “But mistress,” he objected. “You haven’t a proper escort.”

  “Mr. Banning can certainly provide the accompaniment I need. Please, let Mr. Burnsfield in at once.”

  Reluctantly the butler stepped aside, allowing Reagan to enter.

  “We were just about to have tea,” Amanda said. “Won’t you join us?”

  “I’d be delighted.” If Reagan noticed Amanda’s heightened color, he didn’t let on as he doffed his hat and coat, handing them to the servant.

  “We’ll need additional refreshments brought to the parlor, Wills. Please see to it at once.”

  After a moment’s hesitation in which the servant pondered his continued employment if he refused, Wills turned to do her bidding. “Very good, Miss Amanda.”

  “Milady.” Reagan extended his arm. “Allow me.”

  “I think you frightened poor Wills,” Amanda said as he led her down the hall. “He’s not accustomed to bearded men in less than formal attire. Please forgive his misgivings.”

  “Madam, I have no quarrel with any whose job it is to protect you,” Reagan said. “And, the reason I haven’t shaved is because I’ll soon be back to camp.”

  “How long have you been home?”

  “I arrived today.” At her surprised look, he added, “I wanted to see you, and considering your lingering guest, it wasn’t a moment too soon.”

  Amanda laughed. “Mr. Banning seems determined in arranging business with papa’s bank. Though obstacles have come up about codes and rules I know nothing about, Derrick’s persuaded papa they can be overcome with time.”

  As they neared the parlor, the door was suddenly yanked open. Derrick scanned the newcomer from head to toe before his eyes softened in recognition. “Why Reagan, is that you? I feared some ne’er-do-well had forced his attentions on Amanda.”

  Although meant to put Reagan ill at ease, the lumberman only seemed amused. “Rest assured, she’s safe for the time being,” he said.

  The implication wasn’t lost on Derrick who, though annoyed, swept his arm invitingly. “Come join us, won’t you? I hope you’ll accept my stead in the Bruester’s absence.” He then retreated to the settee; the only place two people could sit together.

  Reagan waited until Amanda sat next to Derrick before settling into a chair. A maid entered with a platter of cakes, setting them beside a tea service. Amanda knew exactly how Derrick liked his tea by stirring in two lumps of sugar before handing him the beverage.

  “I believe you prefer your tea plain, Mr. Burnsfield,” she said, pouring two more cups before offering him one.

  “Thank you. So kind of you to remember.”

  As he accepted the brew, Reagan’s fingers lingered against hers, branding her with a warm caress. Amanda was instantly reminded of another time where his touch had stirred her senses. Her cheeks became stained as she sought to change the path of her thoughts.

  “Your taste seems rather simple,” she said. “I’d have thought you’d prefer something to soften the tea’s bitterness.”

  “Your presence is more than enough to make anything taste sweet,” he said, smiling. “Gladly I’d drink several cups if in doing so, we shared the occasion. It’s my loss I’ll soon be returning to camp.”

  Derrick eyed the exchange; vexed he had to suffer courting from Reagan as well as others interested in Amanda’s hand. He considered Leroy’s awkward posturing more of a nuisance than a threat, for Amanda only tolerated those visits with polite interest. Derrick realized she only became flustered in Reagan’s presence and he craved to prove himself superior.

  Adjusting his tie, Derrick smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on his fawn trousers. “I daresay I must compliment the tailors of your fine city. I found this magnificent suit while exploring your shops, proving New York isn’t the only city with modern fashions.” Reaching inside his vest he withdrew an expensive watch, checking the time. As he replaced the timepiece, he stared at Reagan’s flannel Mackinaw. “With your travels, I’m sure you haven’t time for clothiers. If you like, I could make some recommendations. Although sadly, there aren’t any more suits like this for sale.”

  “I know,” Reagan said, sighing. “Bostwick’s showcased your suit last season and marked them down to make room for newer fashions.”

  Derrick’s face darkened. “But, have you viewed the upcoming styles? A good clothier would know which trend would be most in demand.”

 
; “The fashion plates I have already seen,” Reagan said. “For years, Ives Du Monde who’s employed at Bostwick’s has allowed me to view the styles before making suggestions for my wardrobe. However, I much prefer the patterns he creates. It makes for more unique attire.” Pausing, Reagan allowed the insult to hit its mark before softening the slur. “But I have to admit, you wear the ensemble extremely well.”

  “Why, I think it’s a right stylish suit,” Amana said, laying a hand on Derrick’s arm. “I don’t believe I’ve seen another like it all summer.”

  Pleased, Derrick smiled. “My dear, you could charm the profit from the stingiest merchant. I must call upon your help at my next outing.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not well versed in men’s apparel,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I can only say whether or nay the clothes are becoming.”

  “Your presence would be all that’s required to get the best price,” Derrick said, stroking his mustache. He leaned forward as if an idea just struck him. “In fact, we can try out my theory the day after elections. The shops will be open, and with the money I save I’ll purchase the bonnet of your choice.”

  “It sounds lovely. However, I promised Aunt Ella I’d spend a few days with her,” she said, smiling brightly. “Perhaps another time.”

  Reagan maintained an impassive countenance as he mulled that bit of news. It would be difficult to press his courtship the few days he’d be home if Amanda’s time was taken with Gabriella. The only consolation, he thought, was if he couldn’t avail himself of her presence, then neither could the tenacious Bruester houseguest.

  “So, Reagan,” Derrick said. “Are you home for the holidays? The weather can be treacherous this time of year. It’d be a good idea to leave before snowfall.”

  “Quite simply, I’ve returned to vote. Can I assume you’ll be going home to cast yours?”

  Derrick stretched an arm along the divan near Amanda’s shoulder. “My employer’s interests outweigh my personal affairs. Besides, I don’t care who wins the elections.” As if wanting to change the subject, he cleared his throat.

  “Amanda dear, please offer our guest some pastries. He’s surely missed such tidbits while he’s been gone.”

  Reagan declined her offer with a shake of his head. She then turned the platter to Derrick who took his time choosing. When he popped a sweet into his mouth, Reagan felt the need to wipe the contented look from his face.

  “The last time I visited, you spoke of having business plans. How are they coming?”

  Derrick managed a long-suffering grimace. “Proposals have a way of dragging on, I’m afraid. With the uncertain times, the firm I represent has become hesitant to start the venture. They remain interested, however, and asked that I stay until determining their next course of action.” Derrick agitated the spoon inside his tea before tapping it against the cup. Setting it down, he reached for another small cake, disposing of it in a single bite.

  “I see.” Reagan shifted in his chair, intensely interested. “What’s the name of the institute you work for? As I’ve had dealings in New York, perhaps I could be of service to you.”

  Suddenly, Derrick began to choke. Gasping for air, his face turned an alarming red while his Adam’s apple bobbed rapidly. After a fit of coughing, he managed to clear his throat by swallowing some tea.

  “Excuse me,” he said, inhaling deeply. “I don’t know what came over me!”

  Amanda pressed a napkin into his hand. “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

  “I just need to catch my breath,” he begged, dabbing watery eyes. “Please, pardon my clumsiness.” As Amanda poured fresh tea, Derrick coughed discreetly and took several small sips. “My dear, can you ever forgive me? I’m afraid I’ve spoiled our tea.”

  “It was an accident. Thankfully, you’re all right. Mother would’ve been horrified had anything happened to you.”

  Derrick turned to Reagan, his eyes strangely averted. “My apologies, sir. I’m embarrassed by my ill manners.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Reagan said. “But perhaps it’s time I leave after all.”

  As he rose, Amanda stood also. “May I accompany you?”

  “It’d be an honor,” he said, extending his arm. When Derrick came to his feet, Reagan continued. “If you’ll excuse us a moment, I wish to have a private word with Amanda.”

  “Of course,” Derrick said, forcing a smile. As they left the room he approached the door, straining to hear their words.

  “So tell me, how long will you be staying with your Aunt?” asked Reagan. “I’d hoped to give you a tour of the mill.”

  “A few days, I’m afraid. I promised Aunt Ella I’d spend time with her.”

  “Circumstances have a way of working for the good of all,” he said. “If not this occasion, then soon we can arrange another time.”

  When they neared the entrance, Reagan took her hand. “I bid you adieu. I hope you’ll have a pleasant stay at Gabriella’s.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Amanda said as Wills appeared, holding Reagan’s outerwear. She tarried until Reagan departed then returned to the parlor finding Derrick bent to the task of rekindling the fire.

  “The servants have become lax in their duties,” he chided, dusting particles from his clothing. “Were they in my employ, I wouldn’t hesitate correcting them.”

  “Shall I call for Wills?” Amanda said, hiding her exasperation. Of late, Derrick became querulous at the slightest provocation, especially when he didn’t get his way.

  “That won’t be necessary. It’s a man’s duty to handle these things.” He indicated the sofa. “Let’s at least finish our tea, my dear. I too, have something to discuss.”

  Derrick’s wolfish gaze swept Amanda while she retook her seat. Unleashing the imaginings of his mind, he felt the familiar ache of desire as Amanda nervously picked up her tea.

  “What is it you wished to discuss?” she asked.

  He approached and sat beside her. “You’re very beautiful,” he breathed, touching her fingertips. “Until you choose, you’ll never be free of suitors. You know how I feel about you, how right we are for each other. We could have the perfect marriage if you’d just accept me.” Rattling her cup against its saucer, she tried to drink, but Derrick took her cup and placed it on the table.

  “Derrick…”

  “I know you have feelings for me, Amanda. I can see it,” he said. “You only become confused when others come courting. But they’re not worthy of you.”

  Amanda looked away. “Derrick, I-I’ve told you before, I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.”

  “You’ve not given me a chance!” he accused. “You’ve not dealt with me like your other callers, though I’ve been more than patient.”

  Amanda rubbed her brow, a phobic feeling constricting her chest. “You’re not like others, Derrick. You’re always here…”

  “Why do you refuse my courtship?” He leaned forward, taking her hand. “Even your mother considers me a suitable match. My intentions are honorable, and yet you treat me like a brother.”

  Amanda fought the urge to withdraw her hand, allowing it to lie limply within his fingers. “I don’t know why,” she lied. “As long as you live in this house, it’s impossible for me to think of you as anything other than a brother.”

  Moments elapsed while Derrick stared, digested her words. “Yes. You’re right,” he said finally, a smile crossing his face. “I see how this situation could become…unhealthy.”

  Perplexed, she searched his eyes for hidden animosity. “So, you understand?”

  “I see it’s time for me to stop imposing on your family. Perhaps then, you can view me in a proper light. I’ll take up residence in town,” he said. “Then, you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of calling in the customary manner, would you?”

  Amanda smiled in relief. “No, of course not.” Taking up her tea, she decided she could manage his advances once she was no longer obliged to play hostess, unaware of his scheme to make her
his wife, no matter the price.

  Chapter Sixteen

  With the mill closed for Election Day, the Burnsfields enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Reagan had been listening to his sister’s banter when he caught a disapproving look from Katherine while scratching his whiskered jaw. He grinned as he continued to scratch.

  “Really, Reagan, that thing makes you unfit for our table,” she said.

  “Why mother, I think he looks dashing,” Amy said. “Not every girl has a brother who’s the talk of the sewing circles. Just the other day, I heard Rebecca say-”

  “Amy Burnsfield,” Katherine admonished. “Young ladies do not gossip.”

  Reagan raised an eyebrow. “What did Miss Rebecca say?”

  “She said…”

  “Amy! I’ll not allow such talk.” Katherine then switched her complaint toward her son. “Don’t incite your sister so. It’s difficult enough to instill decent goodness into the child without you encouraging the contrary.”

  “I thought she was about to give me a compliment,” Reagan said, shrugging.

  “Do something,” she said, turning to Thomas. “Your children are impossible.”

  Thomas wiped his mouth before clearing his throat. “If there’s to be any questionable talk at our table, you’re to pass the rumor to me,” he said, giving each a stern look. “Afterward, I’ll decide if it can be shared.”

  “Thomas!” Katherine looked aghast as everybody burst into laughter.

  “Now, Katherine,” he said. “You’re sounding a little priggish. I’m sure Amy wasn’t about to say anything unsavory, were you?”

  “No Papa, of course not.”

  “From now on, be considerate of your mother’s feelings. She works hard to prepare an enjoyable meal, part of which is gentle dialogue. Besides, it’s not attractive when one gossips. You should pay attention to your mother’s example.”

  “Yes Papa, I’m sorry.”

  Noting Reagan’s finished meal, Thomas scraped back his chair. “Are you ready? The polls are being held at the saloon this year.”