Skirting Tradition

by Kay Moser

  “Well said!” Lee smiled at the perky silver-haired lady, and when she extended her hand to him, he bent and kissed it lightly.

  “Now there!” cried Miss Mamie to her sister. “There’s the influence of the new Mrs. Hodges. A gentleman kissing my hand for the first time in years. I say, bring on Europe!”

  “And what about Edith Bellows?” Miss Penelope demanded. “Have you forgotten what she said?”

  “I make it a point to forget everything Edith Bellows says the minute she says it. Why shouldn’t I?” Miss Mamie winked at Sarah. “Doesn’t Edith forget her own words as soon as they’re out of her mouth?”

  Sarah grinned, then sighed. “She hasn’t forgotten her profound dislike of Mrs. Hodges.”

  “Well, she should.” Miss Mamie took Sarah’s hand. “I want to petition for membership in the Ladies Literary Society. Do you think I have a chance of acceptance?”

  Sarah beamed at her. “Yes, ma’am, I know you do.”

  “And Sarah and I are delivering the first paper in January,” Lavinia offered.

  “If I don’t die of fright,” Sarah added.

  “You must come,” Lavinia insisted.

  “I shall,” Miss Mamie decreed, and, squeezing Sarah’s hand, she added, “And you won’t—die of fright, that is.”

  “Edith is not going to like this,” Miss Penelope hissed.

  “I don’t care,” Miss Mamie answered blithely. “I am my own woman.”

  “Good for you!” Lee exclaimed and lifted her hand to kiss it again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! If I may have your attention ...” Mr. Hayden called to the guests from his position next to the giant Christmas tree. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the twenty-fifth Hodges Store Christmas party. We are honored to have you as our guests tonight and blessed to have you as our friends throughout the year. We believe that Riverford has a bright future ahead. More importantly, we know that the birth of the Son of God gives each of us the opportunity to choose eternal life and light. With thanksgiving to God for the mercies he has bestowed on the Hodges family and thanksgiving to you, our friends, my wife and I”—he paused while Miss Victoria joined him—“wish you the brightest Christmas and happiest New Year.” With those words, he connected the two cords he held behind his back, and the large tree was alight with shimmering bulbs of red, green, gold, and blue.

  The guests gasped and broke into excited applause, then eagerly approached the stunning sight.

  “Oh, Sarah!” Lavinia cried. “How magnificent!” She clapped her white hands together.

  Leaning close to Sarah’s face, Lee whispered, “I think, young lady, you have seen this before.”

  Sarah happily nodded up at him.

  “Help me up, young man!” Penelope MacDonald demanded. “I want to get a closer view of this invasion of my senses.”

  While Lee assisted Miss Penelope, Miss Mamie leaned toward Sarah and whispered, “She likes it, but she’ll never admit it.”

  Sarah laughed and rose to help Miss Mamie to her feet while Lavinia begged, “Let’s go look.”

  The room filled with excited chatter, the string quartet began its rendition of “O Tannenbaum,” and the punch bowls and silver trays were refilled. Guests mingled happily, and Sarah was glad to see Miss Victoria sitting down drinking a cup of punch. “How tired she must be!” Sarah murmured to Lavinia.

  “No doubt, but you would never know from looking at her. Just look how straight she sits.”

  “If only I had her willpower,” Sarah said.

  “You do,” Lee insisted. “You do, and Riverford is just starting to know that.”

  When the clock struck nine, the guests began to descend in the elevator. The receiving line became a farewell line as Riverford society said good night to their host and his new bride.

  Miss Victoria signaled Sarah to come to her. “You must go home now, Sarah. Your father expects you by ten.”

  “I hate to leave you. There are still so many people here.”

  “They will trail out, and we’ll soon be home.”

  “And I’ll have this stunning woman all to myself.” Mr. Hayden put his arm around Miss Victoria’s waist and grinned down at Sarah. “Now go get your coat and go to the store entry. Sam will be waiting for you there, and he’ll take you to the carriage and home. Thank you for all you’ve done. I think we have a success on our hands.”

  “Oh, you do! It’s been the grandest party ever.”

  “I could not have done it without you, Sarah.” Miss Victoria gave Sarah a warm hug. “Now go home and rest and enjoy your family tomorrow. I will see you on Monday.”

  ***

  When Sarah exited the building, she found that a sharp norther had gusted in and Sam was nowhere in sight. One of the doormen told her Sam had just left with several elderly ladies in the Hodges’ carriage. Sarah bundled her shawl closer around her neck and waited. By nine thirty Sam had not returned, and Sarah was pacing the sidewalk when Lee Logan escorted his mother and Lavinia out the door.

  “Sarah!” Lavinia cried. “Why are you still here?”

  Sarah explained, and Lee immediately offered his help. “We’ll take you home. It’s too cold for you out here. Lavinia, you and Sarah take Mother back into the store. I’ll go for our carriage, then I’ll drop Mother and Lavinia at the house and drive you out to the farm.”

  He strode into the ripping wind before Sarah could respond, but Mrs. Logan noticed the look of concern on Sarah’s face.

  “Your father’s not likely to approve of your arrival in Lee’s carriage with no proper chaperone, is he?”

  “No, ma’am, he won’t.”

  “Don’t worry.” She patted Sarah’s hand. “Lavinia and I will go with you.”

  “Oh, it’s too cold,” Sarah insisted. “In fact, we must get you back inside the store right now.”

  “I’ll be fine. Now that’s settled.” Mrs. Logan turned toward the store door, which the doorman was struggling to open against the wind.

  When Lee arrived with the Logan carriage, the doorman helped Lee settle his mother and sister in the back seat. Then Lee took Sarah’s arm and guided her onto the front bench. He jumped in beside her and pulled a warm carriage rug around her shoulders, tucking it in carefully. After pausing for a second to view his handiwork, he rearranged the blanket around her neck, pulling it higher to create a hood against the wind and patting it gently against her cheeks. Sarah felt every touch of his hands as if they had landed directly on her skin and hair. When he finally grabbed the reins, she felt the working of his strong arm and shoulder muscles against her own slight frame. The sheer joy of being taken care of startled her. Always the caregiver, Sarah did not know how to receive such attentions.

  At Mrs. Logan’s insistence, Lee drove toward the farm as fast as he dared in the wind. Lavinia declared that the cold was bone-chilling, but Sarah could hardly feel it. For some reason she could not understand, sitting next to Lee’s strength and energy warmed Sarah from the inside out. The whole three-mile ride was a joy to her.

  When they arrived at the farm, Lee jumped down and held out his arms to Sarah. Swathed in the rug, she struggled to step down gracefully but fell into Lee’s arms just as Pa and her oldest brother came out onto the porch with a lantern.

  “You’re late!” Pa’s voice was stony.

  “Surely not by much, Pa,” Sarah answered as she struggled to stand up straight and unwind the carriage rug.

  “I said ten. It’s past ten, and why are you with this man?”

  “Good evening, sir.” Lee stepped forward. “If I may introduce myself—”

  “This is Robert Lee Logan, Pa.” Sarah interrupted Lee. “He brought me home because the Hodges’ carriage was being used to deliver several elderly ladies to their homes.”

  “I see.” Pa’s face was hard, and he did not extend his hand to accept Lee’s. “My daughter ain’t a fancy town girl, but she’s still got a reputation to protect. I’ll thank you to remember that in t
he future.”

  “But, Pa—”

  “Go on in the house, Sally.”

  “Mr. Logan was just trying—”

  “I know what he was trying. Go on in the house.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Novak.” Mrs. Logan scrambled forward, poking her head around the buggy’s side, and startled Pa so much he jerked the lantern up high and stared into the carriage. “I assure you that Sarah has been well chaperoned. Both my daughter and I rode out here with her.”

  “Well, that puts a different light on the matter,” Pa finally managed to answer. “But it don’t make it any warmer out here. Say good night, Sally, and get on in the house. We got church tomorrow.”

  Sarah turned to Lee but, fearful of what conclusion Pa might draw, did not extend her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Logan, for all your kindness. Good night, Mrs. Logan and Lavinia.”

  Lee bowed. “You are most welcome, Miss Novak. It was my pleasure, I assure you.” He turned to Pa. “Good night, sir.”

  Pa barely nodded at him and followed Sarah and her brother into the house.

  Sarah discovered her mother waiting just inside the door. “Go on up to your room,” she encouraged, “and take off those fine clothes before your pa gets a good look at them.”

  Sarah raced straight to the ladder but didn’t make it to her attic room.

  “Just a minute, Sally. I ain’t finished with you. Who is this Logan man?”

  Sarah turned to meet her pa’s scrutiny. “He’s the eldest son of Mrs. Logan. He’s in the banking business and lives in Fort Worth, but Mrs. Logan’s family has been in Riverford a long time, I think.”

  “How’d you meet this man?”

  Sarah remembered meeting Lee when she ran into him on the sidewalk but thought better of telling her pa about that. “I met him at Hodges House when he came to deliver some papers to Hayden Hodges.”

  “Seems mighty interested in you,” Norbert teased. “Is he courting you?”

  Sarah flushed. “Certainly not.”

  “Better not be,” Pa said. “Ain’t the kind of beau you need. A man like that ain’t gonna do this family any good. You need to marry the Sykora boy and raise a bunch of sons to work the land. That’s how we’ve gotten ahead in the past.”

  “Maybe Sarah would be a bigger help to the family if she had good town connections,” her mother suggested. “The Logan family has a fine reputation, and that young man is a banker.”

  “Sarah ain’t no society wife. When are you gonna get that through your head, Jana?” Pa reached out and disdainfully touched the lace on Sarah’s silk blouse. “Fine clothes don’t make a lady.”

  Humiliation scalded through Sarah.

  Mama protested, “I think Sarah could marry anyone she wanted to—”

  “I am not going to marry.” Sarah interrupted her mother. “I’m going to be a teacher.” She turned hurt eyes on Pa. “I don’t have to be a lady to be a teacher. I just need to be educated and hardworking.”

  “Don’t make no sense for you to be teaching other people’s sons when you ought to be raising up your own. This is all that highfalutin Hodges woman’s doing.”

  “No, sir. I wanted to be a teacher long before I met Mrs. Hodges.”

  “Well if it ain’t her fault”—Pa’s voice rose—“I can’t for the life of me see how we got into this mess in the first place.”

  Sarah’s mouth tightened into a straight line as she forced her fury down. When she could trust herself to speak, she replied, “You wanted my wages.”

  Pa slammed one hand into the other. “Don’t you talk to me like that, young lady! I won’t have it! I’m still your pa and don’t you forget it. You don’t do nothing unless I say you can do it. Now get on to bed. We got church tomorrow, and it appears to me you got a lot of repenting to do.”

  Sarah was more than happy to climb to her attic retreat. She hurriedly slipped out of her velvet skirt and laid it flat on a quilt on the floor. As she unbuttoned her silk blouse, she paused to run her fingers through the ruffled lace and willed herself to remember the beauty of the evening rather than focus on her pa’s anger or her growing anxiety about its consequences. After arranging the blouse on top of the skirt, she slipped into her flannel nightgown and between the covers. The wind howled around her attic window, and, as cold drafts permeated the room, she curled into a ball and plunged into an exhausted sleep.

  Lee Logan’s smiling face floated through her dreams as she felt the cozy carriage rug being drawn over her shoulders and tucked around her head. Lee’s hands molded the fabric around her head and neck. The carriage moved in slow motion, rocking her on the bench, sinking her shoulder into Lee’s. The wind blew, but Lee sat straight in the seat, his hands in firm control of the reins, his strong shoulder brushing against hers. Deep inside the warm nest Lee had made for her, Sarah felt herself smiling. How wonderful to be taken care of! If only they could drive on and on ...

  The carriage topped the hill above the farmhouse, and Sarah’s serenity fled, torn away by a brutal gust of wind. No, not there! I don’t want to go there! Slowly, slowly the carriage rocked down the hill as the bitter wind invaded Sarah’s nest and stung her cheeks. Off in the distance, a lantern glowed, and Sarah knew it was Pa on the porch. Waiting for her. Waiting to pull her from her nest and force her into the harsh cold.

  She saw the black wash pot, an ominous sculpture on the landscape of her life. An army of ghostly sheets flapped at her from the clotheslines. Don’t drive too near! She tried to say the words but could not utter a sound. I won’t look! I won’t! She buried her face in Lee’s shoulder.

  The carriage stopped, and Sarah felt Lee’s strong arms lifting her from her nest and down, down, down to the ground. Don’t let me go! she tried to plead. Too late! Pa grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the black wash pot. The phantom sheets on the line reached out and swirled their suffocating folds around her. I can’t breathe! Help me!

  “I can’t breathe!” Sarah’s own voice woke her, and, as she peeled off the covers, she realized that the wet sheets she had dreamed of were her own sweat-drenched bedcovers. Still shaking with fear, she flung them aside and sat up on the side of the bed. She curled her fingers around the edge of the straw mattress and gripped it as she took deep breaths. Finally, her pulse slowed, and she walked the few steps to the velvet skirt and sank to the floor. She stroked the velvet and thought of the lighted Christmas tree.

  It occurred to her to pray, but she felt pretty sure that God had no particular interest in her dreams. Just in case He was listening, she whispered, “I don’t need all the finery, Lord. I just can’t spend my life on a farm.”

  She scrambled up, grabbed her Latin grammar, and lit the lamp. “I’ll study until dawn. That’s what I’ll do.” She focused on a noun declension she was memorizing, but a rush of wind slammed against the attic window. Startled, she clutched the book to her bosom, and, as tears ran down her face, she whispered to the empty attic, “What if he won’t let me return to Miss Victoria’s? What if I’ve pushed him too far?”

  CHAPTER 16

  Victoria slipped down the staircase in the darkened house as the clock in the main hall chimed three in the morning. Shivering as she entered the drawing room and slid the pocket doors closed behind her, she went straight to the fireplace and poked at the glowing coals. “Must add some wood,” she murmured as she rolled back the wide lace edging of her wrapper sleeves. She struggled with the logs and bellows, but the fire caught and flamed up, and Victoria lay on the sofa to watch the blaze.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Free at last to release them, she pulled a letter from her pocket and held it next to her heart. The flames flashed their vibrant oranges and blues, and Victoria thought of Tyntesfield House and, of course, of Antonio. Dearest, she thought. This is best for both of us. I know it is. It would never have worked. You must be free.

  She swiped at the rivulets on her cheeks with her handkerchief. Hayden is so good, and I do love him. I do. He is not the problem; it’s the place. I
am starving here.

  “Victoria,” Hayden called softly from the doorway. “You will freeze down here.”

  Hastily she dried her face as he approached. “I’ve built up the fire; it will be warm soon.”

  He lifted her extended legs just enough to slide under them, then returned them to his lap. “What is this about?”

  “Just too stimulated to sleep.”

  “The party?”

  “It’s been such a frantic rush, and I wanted it to be perfect.”

  “It was. Our guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and you made a grand impression. I’m so terribly proud of you, sweetheart.”

  Victoria forced a smile and nodded.

  “But you were not content. I could tell.”

  “It is hard to be on show like that. How could one feel content if one is so ... so tense?”

  “It was a necessary hurdle, and you vaulted over it. The citizens of Riverford will embrace you now. You’ll see. Come Monday, the ladies will all be calling on you.”

  Victoria sat up abruptly and stared at the fire. “I shall still be lonely.”

  “For kindred spirits. Yes, that is another matter. And for your family perhaps? You are undoubtedly still hurt by their unreasonable departure. You gave yourself no time to deal with that.”

  “I did what I’ve always done, what I must do to dull the pain. I jumped into the store party project with both feet.”

  “And increased your dedication to Sarah.”

  “Yes. She is such a godsend. Perhaps I shouldn’t, but I find myself dreaming, even living through her journey.”

  Hayden sighed. “It won’t be enough. Perhaps Christine Boyd ...”

  “She has her family to contend with.”

  “Let’s remodel the house. Let’s plan to spend the summer in England. Let’s do whatever it takes, Victoria.”

  She held out the letter to him.

  He glanced at it. “Antonio.”

  “He has accepted an engagement to perform in Galveston and another in New Orleans in February before traveling on to San Francisco.”