The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals Book 2)

by Tess Thompson

  Today, as usual, the circle included both my smallest sisters. Even Delphia was quiet and attentive during story hour. Most of the mothers spent the time looking for books to take home while I read, although sometimes they listened, too.

  We’d just finished our story time and I’d sent the children off to their mothers to pick out books when I saw Phillip come through the double doors. He took off his hat and looked straight at me, smiling in that way of his that made my stomach flutter. I rose from the small chair where I’d been reading to the children and scurried over to greet him.

  “Is it done?” I asked, referring to the table.

  “Strapped to the sleigh.” He took both my hands and leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “You’re beautiful and I missed you.”

  “Thank you.” His eyes upon me seemed to light a fire from within me. It was all I could do to keep my head when he looked at me this way. “I’m ready to go. I’ll just go put on my things.”

  “Harley and the horses and sleigh are waiting out front.” A light dusting of snow covered his coat. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack near the door. I’d put an old blanket underneath to catch the melted snow that would ruin the dark hardwood floors. “But he’s going home with your father. Harley gave me a lesson about the horses before we set out. He thinks I’m ready to try driving.”

  Which meant we would be alone. “I won’t be a minute.”

  Phillip

  At the house, Harley and I had tied the tabletop to the sleigh with thick ropes. Afterward, he’d taught me how to brush the horses before outfitting them with their bridles and blinders as he rattled off a bunch of terms such as turnback, hames, bearing rein, hip drops, and tug chains until my head swam with all the information.

  “Get on up there,” Harley said as I came down the library steps. “It’s now or never.”

  I got into the driver’s seat. Josephine, dressed in a red coat and hat, hustled down the steps toward us.

  “Don’t worry,” Harley said, helping Josephine into the seat next to me. “You’ll get it after some practice.” He went around the front of the horses and petted their noses. “These two will take good care of you.”

  “I’ll make sure you know what to do,” Josephine said, laughing at what must have been a panicked look in my eyes.

  Snow began to fall as she took the reins. “I always tuck the excess line under my legs. I don’t want them to get tangled around our feet. I’ll get us out of town and teach you as we go, then you can try.”

  “Fine.” I was starting to regret my decision.

  “We’ll see you later, Harley,” Josephine called out to him. He gave a wave and headed toward Lord Barnes’s office.

  “To get them going, just call out a ‘Let’s go’ and jerk the reins slightly.” She did just that and the horses broke into a trot, taking us down the street. “There are two styles of driving. One is the way the English adapted from Germany called Achenbach. Papa and Jasper taught us all to do it this way, but Harley and Poppy hold a rein in each hand like Americans. We’re all split on our preferred method. I like the American way, but the twins prefer Achenbach. You can decide which you like better after you try them both.”

  She demonstrated the Achenbach method, moving the reins all the way to the left. Oz and Willie followed her lead and turned out of town toward the direction of the Cassidys’ farm. “See there. The horses know what to do.” She divided the lines, holding one in each hand. “This way you tug gently on either one, left or right. Same effect.”

  A whip dangled to the left, near Oz’s rear. “I won’t have to use that, will I? I don’t want to hurt them.”

  “Not on Oz or Willie,” Josephine said. “They’re well-trained and know what to do. You really only need those for horses that are slow. Anyway, the whip doesn’t hurt them. Not the way we use it, anyway.”

  On the road, we traveled in the icy ruts made by other sleighs. The horses snorted and increased their pace. “Do you see how much they love it?” Josephine asked. “Harley trained them himself just for this purpose.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Are you ready to take over?”

  “Not really.” From this angle, the horses’ back ends seemed massive. What if I lost control and we all tumbled off a cliff? “One thing. What happens when I want them to stop?”

  “Tug lightly on both lines. They’ll know what that means. Even if I weren’t here with you, you would be fine. They know all the routes anyway, so they’re practically driving us.”

  I took the reins, one in each hand. The power of these magnificent creatures traveled into my hands. Oz and Willie continued at a trot. “Are we going too slow?”

  “No, this is fine. We’re enjoying the day.”

  “It’s a beautiful day.” Josephine was by my side. The bells hooked to the horses’ necks tinkled merrily. We stayed within the icy grooves, sliding along easily. The snow fell in lazy drifting flakes as if compelled by the slow, steady rhythm of the bells and stomping of the horses’ hooves to meander along rather than rush. The snow-covered bare branches of the aspens that lined the road seemed spun from sugar. Their spindly trunks of white peppered with gray stood straight and tall. A lacy cloth of fresh snow covered the firs and pines.

  “You’re doing well,” Josephine said.

  “This isn’t as hard as I thought,” I said. “I can feel the power of their muscles, yet they’re restrained. As if serving us is their only mission.”

  “They’re gentle souls who love us. That’s what you’re feeling.” Josephine let out a sigh and raised her face to the sky. “We can travel along the river. Just turn at the fork in the road up ahead.”

  I was surprised by this, having no sense of where we were. Out here, the snow and mountains were vast, giving me little to anchor to as far as direction. In the city, everything was marked with street signs. On the Western Front, we’d simply followed orders en masse.

  I yanked gently on the reins, and the horses turned left into fresh snow.

  “This is a meadow during the warm seasons,” Josephine said. “Wait until you see the wildflowers in spring. They’re my favorite sight in all the world.”

  We traveled across the meadow until we reached the river.

  “We can start to follow the river here, which will take us to their farm,” Josephine said.

  The river was not frozen over like the pond. Instead, batches of snow and ice were scattered over the surface in a patchwork design. Rich brown winter cattails sprang up in clumps along the bank.

  “Balm for my soul,” I said. “All this.”

  “Yes. For me too. I’m glad you feel the same.”

  “It’s enough to take away all the images from the war I carry with me.”

  She reached over and brushed her knuckles against my cheek. Even through her gloves, the warmth of her skin penetrated mine. “I wish you didn’t need a balm. I’d take every one away if I could.”

  A lump formed in the back of my throat. I took her hand to my mouth and gave it a light kiss before letting it fall back to her lap. “If I could look at your face every day for the rest of my life, that would be enough.”

  A smile lifted the corner of her pretty mouth. “You might just have the power to make me forget what a fool I was to fall for such lines.”

  “In this case, it’s not a line.” I glanced over at her.

  “I’m beginning to believe that you’re truly as good as you seem to be.”

  “I’m a good man,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m worthy of you. I can’t give you what your father’s been able to provide. Not yet anyway.”

  “Would you believe me if I said I have every faith in you?”

  For the second time in as many minutes, my throat ached. A buzzing started between my ears like the happy hum of honeybees. “You make me believe it, too.”

  In the distance I spotted the stark white farmhouse. It looked lonely and too small here in the vastness of the meadow and the white mountains on either side of us
. A plume of smoke was the only evidence of living people.

  “I’m excited for them to see what you made.” She practically knocked me out of the sleigh with her radiant smile. My heart surged with love. What would I do if she ever turned me away? I’d fallen into the well that was Josephine, and I might drown if she didn’t return my feelings.

  I successfully halted the horses in front of the house. No sooner had I gotten Josephine out than both Shannon and Nora barreled out of the house.

  “Is it done already?” Nora asked.

  “It didn’t take as long as I thought,” I said. “Is it all right that we brought it out here?”

  “Yes, yes,” Nora said.

  “We’ll give it to Mam early. We’ll have it for the holiday preparations, Nora.”

  Nora squealed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  A woman with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders came out to the porch. “What have you done, girls?”

  “Mam, we have a present for you,” Nora said, squealing again. “A new kitchen table.”

  “You’ve brought it on the sleigh?” Mrs. Cassidy came down the steps and moved toward us.

  “Yes, the legs aren’t attached yet,” Josephine said. “Shall we bring it into the kitchen?”

  “Yes, please,” Shannon said.

  I wasn’t sure how to get it inside with only these small women, but I had underestimated Josephine. She was small but mighty, as was Shannon. They each took an end. We carried it inside with a blanket covering the top. I would need to turn it over to put on the legs and didn’t want to scratch the top. Nora and Mrs. Cassidy followed, each with two of the tapered legs.

  We eased it through the front door and down the hallway to the kitchen. “What do we do with the old one?” Josephine asked.

  “We’ll set this one aside and I’ll get the other one out of here.”

  We gently set the tabletop against the hallway wall. I rushed back outside to get my tools and then took the legs off the old table. It was so thin and light that I was able to take it out to their shed with little effort. The girls were helpful by following with the legs.

  “Dad never liked to toss anything,” Shannon said. “So we should probably save this in case we want to do something with the old wood.”

  “I’ll think about what I could make with it, if you’d like,” I said. “I might be able to make end tables for you. But for now, just keep it dry.”

  I followed them back into the house. Mrs. Cassidy had put on a pot of coffee and was huddled with Josephine near the stove.

  “Yes, I’m having a good day,” Mrs. Cassidy said as I came in. “The headaches come suddenly and without warning, but usually only last a day.”

  Josephine formally introduced me to Mrs. Cassidy. I plucked my hat from my head. So focused on the table, I’d almost forgotten. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well.”

  We brought the tabletop into the kitchen, and I assembled the legs using the screws. I had it all put together in less than ten minutes. The girls helped me turned it over as Josephine snatched the blanket out of the way.

  Mrs. Cassidy’s hands covered her mouth as she exclaimed, “Oh my, it’s pretty.” She held out her arms. “Girls, how did you pay for this?”

  Josephine shook her head. “Never you mind that. Consider it a gift from the Barnes family and our new, very talented friend.”

  After embracing her girls, Mrs. Cassidy dropped into one of the chairs. “This is such a thoughtful thing you’ve done, but I don’t know how we can possibly stay here on the farm. Without my husband, we don’t have much chance for survival.” She turned to Josephine and me. “Years ago, my husband decided to add cattle that we could sell to the butcher shop in addition to our milkers. Right before he died, we lost five of them to a disease. I don’t know how or why they got sick. Or how to save the rest if it comes to that. Without the sale of that beef, we didn’t have any meat to sell to the Higgins brothers for their shop. I couldn’t pay our farmhand, so he left. The barn roof partially collapsed after the last snowfall, and I’ve nothing for the repairs.” She wiped under her eyes with one of her apron strings. “I’ve sent a letter home to Ireland. I have a brother who might be able to take us in.”

  “Mam, no,” Shannon said. “This is our home.”

  “Even before we lost your dad, I wasn’t sure we’d make it. Without him, I’m sure we can’t.” Mrs. Cassidy’s weary tone told me how defeat had rendered her incapable of seeing any hope. “And I’m not well. There’s debt.” She placed her hands over her face. “So much debt, just piling higher and higher.” She dropped her hands and directed her gaze once more at us. “We lost our bull last year and Dorrin had to take out a loan to replace him, which put us behind. That’s been our story for years. We’re always on the brink of losing everything. Your dad believed in taking risks. But he didn’t foresee dying on us at age forty-five. I can’t do it without him. These girls have worked tirelessly to save everything, but it’s not fair to them. They’re bright and should be at school learning how to get out of this kind of life. I’ve failed them.”

  “Mam, no. You’re brave and good,” Nora said. “We’ve done what we had to do to keep the farm. That’s all we want.”

  “We can’t go to Ireland without Alma,” Shannon said. “When she’s done with her nursing school, she’ll be able to help with money.”

  “Not enough to run a farm,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “Anyway, she promised Alexander Barnes that she would come back here and be a nurse for the town. That was the agreement we made with him when we took the tuition money.”

  “She’s our sister,” Shannon said. “We can’t leave her here and go to Ireland to be with family we don’t even know.”

  Nora had started to cry silently. My heart ached for her. She didn’t want to lose more of her family.

  “Show Miss Josephine your hands,” Mrs. Cassidy said.

  Shannon put out her hands. A defiant look came to her eyes. “I’m not ashamed of working hard.”

  “Nor I.” Nora held out her hands for us to see. Tears streaked her thin face.

  Both sets of hands were red and chapped. Broken and bloodied calluses marred the palms.

  “They’re doing the work of two men,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “Do you see why we can’t stay? If I sell the farm, I can pay back the debt and maybe have enough for fare home.”

  “I didn’t know how bad it was for you,” Josephine said. “You should have come to Papa for help. If he’d known, he would’ve done whatever it took. Mama will be furious to think of you out here feeling helpless and alone. This is not how we do things in Emerson Pass.”

  “I can’t ask your father to help us,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “It isn’t right.”

  “What’s not right about it?” Josephine asked gently. “Don’t we hear every Sunday about what the Lord expects from us? What kind of Christians are we if don’t help our neighbors?”

  I knew what to do then, as if God had reached down to speak to me directly. “Ma’am, I could help you. I’ll be your farmhand. With instruction, of course.”

  “Thank you, but as I said, I don’t have the money to pay anyone.” Mrs. Cassidy’s gaze dropped to her lap. I knew as sure as I knew my own heart that she was ashamed of being poor and at the mercy of charity to survive. Worry had caused her headaches. If her financial situation improved, so would her health. Grief and desperation made it impossible for her to get better. I must convince her to allow me to help. “The Barneses have invited me to stay in their home until I can find a place of my own, which at this rate will be a while. They’ve been very kind to me. I’d be honored to repay them for their kindness by helping you. I don’t have a lot of experience on farms, but I’m sure these girls can teach me.”

  “Yes, we can show you what to do,” Shannon said. “Nothing hard, but it requires strength.”

  “And grit,” Nora said.

  “I’ve a bit of that.” The furniture shop would have to wait. This was what I was meant
to do for now and a way for me to pay the debt of kindness owed to the Barneses. “Please, Mrs. Cassidy, allow me to do this for you. Someday, you’ll show someone the same kindness and they’ll pass it along.”

  “Yes, that’s it exactly.” Josephine’s eyes shone with gratitude and affection—all directed toward me. To evoke that expression again, I would have worked a hundred farms for a hundred years. “He’s learning to drive the horses. Papa will lend you the smaller of our sleighs to come over to the farm.”

  “I can repair the barn first,” I said. “That I know how to do.”

  “How many cows do you have left?” Josephine asked.

  “Only two,” Shannon said. “And the bull.”

  “Hardly a herd,” Mrs. Cassidy said with a bitter edge to her voice. “I told your dad the same thing when he moved us here, but he was as stubborn as they come.” Despite the regret in her words, I detected love too.

  “America is about dreams,” I said, surprising myself. “We can’t give up on them, even when things are hard.”

  “Dreams don’t feed hungry daughters,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “We’re running out of supplies, and it’s not yet Christmas.”

  The girls were both thin. I hadn’t thought about it much, assuming that girls that age tended to be slender. Now, however, I looked at them with more care. Nora had a pinched look to her face, as if she were gritting her teeth against hunger. Shannon’s cheekbones were too prominent. She was seventeen, already grown, and yet had no evident curves. Compared to Cymbeline, who was two years younger but robust and glowing with health, Shannon would appear sickly.

  The nuns had made sure we were never hungry. Some of the children who came to us over the years had shared tales of near starvation on the streets of New York. They’d had a hungry look in their eyes even after months of being well-fed at the orphanage. I could remember one boy who slouched over his food as if shielding it from a predator.