by Annie Boone
She missed them so much. And it broke her a little more every day knowing that things weren’t going well for them. She felt guilty for leaving them, but there had been no other choice. Her journey here was supposed to be their solution, but so far it hadn’t worked as they’d expected.
Her plan was to marry a generous man who’d be willing to bring her family here and take care of all of them. Delilah ran a hand through her long curls, easing out any knots as she glanced around. The evening had cooled down and a soft breeze fluttered the curtain in the window and sent a shiver down her spine. Getting up from the floor she picked up her shawl from the chair by the desk and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders.
Perhaps this hadn’t been the best decision after all. What if no one would take her? What if she was trapped here alone forever? Or what if some kind man did come along to marry her, but he refused to bring her family here? It broke her heart to even think that way. Swallowing hard, she tried to catch her breath as she convinced herself she was just being silly.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly closed her eyes. “Tomorrow should be better. It will be. Yes, it will be for sure.”
The breeze from the open window only grew stronger which made the flame of the candle flicker. The light dimmed against the corner of the room. Delilah sighed and took it as a sign. She wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders and went over to the candle.
“Good night,” she murmured but wasn’t certain who she was talking to. She blew out the light and crawled into her bed. Her covers were cool as she slipped beneath them and her hands crawled over the empty space as she pulled the blankets over her head. Resting her head on the edge of the soft pillow, only then did Delilah breathe easy.
Underneath the blankets in the dark, she could almost pretend she was at home. Now all she needed was her little sister kicking her feet or her brother to begin snoring. Delilah bit her lip and wiped away a stray tear. Things would get better, she knew it. They simply had to. With a yawn, the young woman gave one final stretch and fell asleep.
It wasn’t a restful sleep and she woke up more exhausted than when she went to bed. After her morning chores and breakfast with Susannah, Delilah stumbled back up to her room. She had asked for some time to practice her reading and writing, so she’d taken the Holy Bible with some paper and a pen. It wasn’t that she couldn’t read or write, but she had been forced to leave school to care for her family and her penmanship had become rather rusty. With a week or two of effort, she’d pulled herself together and was doing just fine.
But she claimed the need for practice to ensure private time to write her letters. Closing the door carefully behind her, Delilah set her things down on the desk and put them in their proper order. Pens to the right, the last letter to the left, and the paper there in the middle. Taking her seat, she took a deep breath and tried to find a place to begin.
Dearest family,
I do hope that all is well. Hopefully the Philadelphia sky is treating you better as winter is now gone. The smells here in Colorado are different. Well, all of it is different. The sky, the smells, the people, everything is different. I believe you would enjoy it here.
Especially Jonathan. I finally learned how to ride a horse, thanks to the kindness of the family I board with. They have assured me that my form is excellent and that I’m a natural. Though they are simply being kind, I do appreciate it. The Jessups ensure my safety and have helped me in learning several useful skills.
Delilah hesitated and looked down at the letter. Hardly two paragraphs and she didn’t know what else to write. Though she wanted to say everything to them, she couldn’t. The children were able to usually sneak their letters out without their aunt seeing, surely the woman would see this if she picked it up from the post office before the children did.
Her throat constricted as she tried to find something to say that Aunt Phyllis would find innocent enough that she’d still allow the children to read the letter. Already two of her letters had disappeared, at least from what she could tell. Her pen hovered above the paper and an inkblot fell, splashing the page with a dark stain. She frowned but there was little she could do about that now. The pen went back to the ink and a sigh escaped as Delilah tried to think.
What was she to do? What could she write without saying anything wrong to ensure this letter would reach her siblings? Any singular thing might set the woman off to just toss the letter away, but another could get the children in trouble. Perhaps it would be better not to write to them.
“Easier, perhaps, but not better,” Delilah sighed and rubbed her cheeks. It took her several more minutes before she could compose her thoughts to pen the rest of the letter. This one went on for two pages as she mentioned all the good small things about Colorado. They would like to know what she was doing every day, and give them something to imagine. And dream about, if she could find a way to bring them away from Philadelphia. The way Mrs. Jessup was teaching her to bake, for example, and how friendly the people in town were. Even though she had only been there for a few months now, she already knew many people and even more of them knew her name.
And the mornings were lovely and quiet. They were her favorite part of the day. The Jessups had taught her how to garden, and she was raising cabbages that would hopefully feed them soon or be taken to the mercantile to sell. Yes, there were several good things to say about Colorado, as long as she focused on the good and the hope.
At last she signed her name and gently folded it into an envelope. Sliding the papers into her pocket, Delilah was picking up the other unused papers and a broken pencil when she heard the knock. It caught her off guard and she jumped lightly, turning in surprise to find Susannah standing there.
The woman was beaming, as she always was. Delilah would have found it strange and worrisome had her own mother not been very much the same. In Delilah’s eyes, Mrs. Jessup resembled all the princesses that Delilah heard of in fairy tales. The woman’s long golden hair was unbraided for the day and curled all the way down to her hips only to better accent her bold blue eyes. Swaying side to side, the small woman waited for Delilah to collect her things.
She hadn’t been there long, had she? Instinctively she glanced down at her apron pocket but her letter was hidden from view. Her throat constricted as she attempted to provide an innocent smile and gingerly stepped away from the desk. “Hello, Mrs. Jessup.”
“Hello, dear,” Susannah responded pertly. “I need to make a quick trip into town, and I simply wanted to see if you’d like to accompany me. Lucas has offered to take us, since he needs to stop by the office. Besides, there is a court case going on that he needs to be present for, but he said it would be all right to join him if we so desired. What do you think of that?”
The tension in her shoulders faded away. It was just what she needed. They’d be close enough for her to slip over to the post office and send the letter, hopefully without a soul noticing. Her heart leapt and she nodded eagerly. Clutching everything in her hands, Delilah tried not to sound too relieved. “Yes, I’d like that. Of course. I’ll just put these away and find my wrap.”
Susannah clapped. “Wonderful! I’ll grab the box of corn that we’re taking to the Misers, and my husband is already with the wagon. Do come out when you’re ready.” And she wandered off, humming as usual.
Delilah paused to watch her dance down the hallway and marveled at how much energy she had. The woman would give her youngest sister, Rebecca, a run for her money with that. Of course, the two of them were just as sweet. She couldn’t help but smile, and carefully put her things away before hurrying outside obediently. With the letter tucked safely in her pocket, Delilah quietly joined the Jessup couple and headed for town in Rocky Ridge, Colorado.
Chapter Three
Fidgeting with his hat, the young man glanced up and down the street. With a free afternoon on his hands, Ethan Townsend thought he would explore the town a bit more. It was a beautiful day and he had nothing else to do. Such an occasion was
rare, so he wanted to make the most of the opportunity.
Yesterday he had spent the day at home with his mother, tidying up his old room and helping her in the garden. And tomorrow, there would be work to do. Plenty of work, without a doubt. He had a job lined up with Mr. Edward Winters, the only veterinarian in Rocky Ridge. He was an old family friend and his health was slowing him down and he needed some help. Ethan expected him to stop working altogether once he was satisfied he’d found the best replacement.
That would be nice, Ethan thought, having full charge of the business is just what he’d wanted. He enjoyed the work and liked dealing with the people who needed his services. And he did like animals. Mr. Winters had built up a good following, but Ethan knew he could make it bigger. He grinned at the thought and placed the hat back on his head. Whistling lightly, he crossed the street and went to the haberdashery.
“Hello, there,” he tipped his hat and looked around. The shop was small, but it seemed to be well stocked for the size. The existence of a haberdashery was proof that the town was growing. Before he’d left, the mercantile had been the only place to get anything.
It was a strange sensation to be back in here after his years off at school. Rocky Ridge was a good place, he told himself, a fine place he was happy to return to. While New Orleans had been exciting and full of adventure, it was wasn’t the sort of place he wanted to live the rest of his life. He liked the peace and quiet of small towns, maybe because that’s where he grew up. And the mountains made him feel at home. New Orleans couldn’t offer that.
Ethan stepped back out onto the street and looked around, trying to decide what to do next. There was plenty of sunshine, and a soft breeze was blowing through the lane. Most of the windows were clean and sidewalks were swept. It was a cheerful place, and he felt happy just being able to take it all in.
As he crossed the street, two young ladies blocked his way. They wore simpler dresses than what he was used to seeing in New Orleans, and for a moment he couldn’t help but stare. Fewer petticoats, and much less lace. It was nice, he decided, and even more flattering. But then he realized he was staring and instantly looked down, embarrassed. Chiding himself for forgetting about that difference, he let out a long breath.
And then he heard giggles. “Oh, please pardon me,” he bowed his head further and stepped off into the dirt to allow them to pass. Ethan kept his eyes glued to his dusty shoes until they passed. Refusing to look their way again, he returned to the boardwalk as his throat constricted.
Trying to shrug his humiliation away, he rolled his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. Getting back his reflections on Rocky Ridge, he conceded that it made sense the town had grown while he was away and he no longer knew everyone who lived here. He wondered who the young women were who he’d embarrassed himself over but pushed that thought away.
But all the same, he wasn’t interested in keeping company with the women of Rocky Ridge whether he knew them or not. He was only interested in getting to work and putting all he’d learned in school to practice. There was no time for a woman in his life.
Women were too confusing, anyway. Nothing but bother and inconvenience. He didn’t need anything so troublesome in his life. Ethan’s lips tightened into a thin line as he wandered the familiar streets to his home only a few blocks away. It was just enough to give him some time to think.
Yet as much as he tried to redirect his thoughts a pretty, dark-haired woman crept into his thoughts. Apparently, the bitterness wasn’t enough to keep her memory away. Her pale blue eyes swallowed him whole every time he looked her way. Why, that girl had the softest hands in the whole town, he had been certain of that. Miss Elizabeth Stanley had such a special way about her with a coy smile and tinkling laugh he’d been completely taken in.
Prettier than a picture, he knew, but even the dangerous things in life could be beautiful and alluring. His lips pursed bitterly. The broken pieces of his heart told the truth and he’d vowed to guard it closely so nothing that painful would happen ever again.
Animals were infinitely better. They wouldn’t lie or toy with emotions. Nothing like that at all. Horses were honest, cows were obedient, dogs were friendly, cats were entertaining, and goats were… well, they were useful in their own way. Every animal he could think of had more purpose in his life than any woman.
“There you are!”
Looking up, Ethan found himself in the kitchen of his childhood home. He had made it all the way home without even thinking. Hands still in his pockets, he glanced around. A small round table with four chairs, a stove beside a fireplace, a window above the sink, and cupboards against the wall. And at the back door stood his mother.
She had her hands on her hips and watched him curiously with a strange, piercring light in her eyes. Ethan blinked. They shared the same caramel brown hair and deep green eyes, but otherwise he looked much more like his father. The woman’s eyebrow raised and he gave a longer sigh than either of them expected.
“You were gone all afternoon and that’s what you come back with?” His mother chuckled and shook her head. “Then make yourself useful and mix the butter and sugar, would you?” She gestured to the bowl and spoon on the counter. “I don’t care what you say, Ethan, but you’re much too young to sigh like that. Did something happen in town?”
Obediently, Ethan picked up the bowl and began to mix the ingredients. “No,” he said at last, not knowing what to say to her. “Nothing happened.” It was the truth after all. Nothing had happened, save his memories were haunting him. His arm moved faster, whisking the ingredients together as hard as he could. That past was no one’s fault but his own.
Mrs. Townsend watched him for a minute until she relented and went to the stove. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. And what are you doing back here so early? I thought you might be spending time with your friends. I do love having you here, don’t get me wrong, but usually you’re too busy to spend time here except for sleeping.”
“I’ll catch up with them later,” he assured her, although no plans had yet been set into motion. He would eventually, he knew. Most of his friends were still in the area, though the majority of them were now married. Which wasn’t a problem, exactly, except that he was not married. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back another sigh. “I’m quite happy to be here with you.”
“Thank you, I suppose,” she chuckled. “Now, do you feel prepared for tomorrow? It’s your first day of work, after all. Is there anything you need?”
He shook his head for she had asked him that several times already. “No, I don’t think so. But thank you, Mother.”
She offered a smile, and began talking again. The woman began talking about a baby she had held at church the other week. His mother loved children and looked for every opportunity to take care of them or at least hold them and tweak their chins. The schoolhouse was just down the street and she’d been helping there for as long as he could remember. She’d had him at a young age but it had been a difficult pregnancy and she hadn’t been able to bear another child. Though she loved him, and he knew she did, sometimes he could see the pain of not having more children in the house. Yet as she talked, his mind wandered.
Had he ever mentioned Elizabeth in his letters? He couldn’t recall.
Ethan glanced down at the soup in his bowl. His mother could make anything delicious and he had missed her cooking. Though she couldn’t fix everything he had enjoyed in New Orleans, she could still work wonders no one else could. He did miss the spicy seafood dishes he’d enjoyed so much.
Thinking back to Elizabeth, he felt annoyed at the memories. He didn’t know if his mother would have liked the pretty dark-haired girl.
They’d had several months together. Months of little notes and walks in the shade. They had gone dancing, read one another poetry, and he’d even bought her ribbons for her hair with the tiny bit of money he had to spare. Even now, Ethan could recall her reading the Odyssey to him on the evenings when it rained, nestled into a little t
ea shop, all snug and dry. It had been nearly a year ago.
And after all this time, the whole thing still made no sense. She had been with him every spare minute it had seemed. They’d had many of the same interests and shared conversations he’d never had with anyone else. He’d been blissfully happy. And then she had broken it off. Just as he’d been building up the courage to ask for her hand, she had disappeared. There’d been no notice, no warning. She hadn’t even left a letter to explain.
Though it had been a year ago, it seemed like a lifetime ago—except for the times it felt like only yesterday. In truth, every part of his memory of that time still hurt. Like a knife to the heart and he couldn’t seem to get past it.
“Ethan? Dear?”
“Hmm? Um, ma’am?” He looked up and his long hair flopped in his eyes. “Sorry, Mother. I was thinking about something else. What did you say?”
She raised her eyebrow. “Which part? Dear, you’re not listening to a thing I’m saying.” Shaking her head, the woman shrugged it off with a sigh as she wiped her forehead. “Would you mind bringing in some more water? Don’t you worry, I wasn’t saying anything important. It’s just nice to have you here, that’s all.”
“Of course,” he replied faintly, with Elizabeth’s lovely face still on his mind. “I’m glad to be here as well.”
He tossed and turned that night, though it was hard to say if he was a touch nervous about the job he started in just a few hours, or if it was because of the bittersweet memories. When Ethan Townsend woke up the next morning, he tried to put her back in the corner of his mind and focus on what he could control. After dressing in the new suit his parents had purchased for him, he went to the kitchen for the hearty breakfast his mother insisted on making.