Frustration bubbled up inside Edith. She released it with a mighty swipe of the broom, sending another cloud of dirt into the air.
“Whoa!”
Edith looked up into Wade Beaumont’s smiling face and myriad emotions exploded in her chest, each vying for prominence. In the end, anger won out.
“What are you doing here?” Gripping the broom handle as if it were a weapon, she stepped out onto the narrow porch.
“I’d hoped to receive a more cordial greeting than on our initial meeting, but I suppose one shouldn’t hope for too much.” His nonchalant grin poured fuel on the anger sizzling in Edith’s chest. “At least you missed me with the dirt.”
“As you said, one shouldn’t hope for too much.” Edith clipped her words, her tone as dry as the dirt she’d swept out the front door. Wade Beaumont was far too smooth. His Southern charm may have beguiled the sort of females with whom he’d likely associated on the riverboats, but it wouldn’t work on her.
His grin widened, threatening to turn her flaring anger to a conflagration.
Father’s frequent admonition to never show emotion to an adversary popped into Edith’s mind. To calm herself, she inhaled a cooling breath of autumn air and propped the broom handle against the front door. “What can I do for you, Mr. Beaumont?”
“I’ve come to bring your father the company’s weekly reports.” He held up a small leather satchel.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t yet returned from the institute, but you can leave them with me and I’ll see that he gets them.” Edith held out her hand to take the satchel, questioning the wisdom of divulging the fact that she was alone.
Wade lowered the satchel and held it against his thigh. “I was really hoping to speak with your father. There are some matters…company business, that I’d like to discuss with him.” He gave her a sweet smile. “I’ll wait.”
“As you wish.” Edith turned to head back into the house.
“Your little friend came by the house yesterday.”
Edith whirled back to face him, fear leaping in her chest. “Dahlia?” Dahlia’s parents, especially her father, Mose, were active in the Underground Railroad, the network that helped fugitive slaves cross the Ohio River to freedom. Edith would need to speak to Dahlia and warn her about talking to Beaumont.
“She helped me locate some needed items in the kitchen and, in turn, I found another two-bit piece behind her ear.” He grinned.
Edith’s back stiffened, and she glared at him. “Dahlia is a sweet, intelligent child with a big heart. I trust you will not take advantage of or attempt to buy her charity in the future.”
His smile evaporated, and his sandy brows pinched together in a frown. He met her glare with an unflinching look, and for the first time, she saw anger flicker in his blue eyes. His voice remained low, his tone measured. “Miss Applegate, I do not take advantage of children. I like Dahlia very much, for all the qualities you mentioned.” A soft smile replaced his momentary frown. “In truth, she brightened my day.” He opened the satchel and slipped out a paper that looked like the lined paper Edith had purchased for her students’ class work. “When I told her I was coming to see you today, she asked me to deliver this.”
Edith stepped down from the porch and took the paper he held out to her. As she perused its contents, her heart contracted and the words on the paper blurred through her tears. Dahlia had written in careful cursive, We miss you, Miss Edith, and signed her name. The rest of the students had, in turn, printed their names and sentiments on the paper, which they’d embellished with pictures of flowers and hearts.
Edith brushed the tears from her cheeks. “She must have worked so hard on this. She’d only begun practicing her cursive letters last week.” She glanced up at Wade, looking for any sign of disapproval on his face, but found only smiling compassion.
His voice brightened. “Besides delivering the paper from your students, I did hope to see you. I wanted to thank you for all the amenities you left for me in the house. I hope your generosity has not inconvenienced you or your father. If so, I would be happy to purchase my own household necessities.”
Edith shook her head. “That is kind of you, but Father and I have everything we need.” She glanced behind her at the stone building a third the size of their house in Madison. “As you can see, all of our belongings would not have fit into this house.” Before she’d learned who would be moving into their old home, she’d felt good imagining another family using and enjoying the household goods they had to leave behind. She struggled to resurrect that feeling of benevolence. “You are more than welcome to use everything we left in the house, Mr. Beaumont.” In spite of herself, Edith felt her attitude toward Wade Beaumont begin to thaw.
“I must say, I’m especially fond of the quilt you provided for my bedroom—the one with the yellow, orange, and red star pattern.” Wistfulness crept into his voice. “My mother had one that was done in the same pattern. She called it the Star of Bethlehem.” He gave her a shy, almost boyish grin. “When I was little, I actually thought it was the star of Bethlehem.” He gave a soft, embarrassed-sounding chuckle. “I hadn’t thought of that in years.” He shook his head as if trying to shake the cobwebs from his mind. “Anyway, your Star of Bethlehem quilt has made me feel very much at home.”
Edith’s heart melted, thinking of the little boy who’d believed that somehow his mother had managed to capture on a quilt the star that led the wise men to the Christ child. “I’m sure that memory still makes your mother smile.”
“I like to think so, though she died ten years ago.” His voice softened, and his eyes glistened with moisture.
“Oh, I am sorry,” Edith said, and meant it. “I lost my own mother this past May.”
“Yes, Edwin told me. I am sorry for your loss as well.” He reached out and covered her hand with his.
While surprised by the gesture, Edith felt no impulse to draw her hand away from his warm touch.
Kindness filled both his voice and eyes. “I’d like to tell you that the loss gets easier to bear as the years pass, but I’m afraid that hasn’t been my experience.”
For a long moment they shared an empathetic gaze. Wade broke the silence.
“Miss Applegate…Edith—”
“Ah, Mr. Beaumont!” Father came striding up, a wide smile stretching his bearded face. “I see you found our humble abode. I hope all is well at the house in Madison.”
Wade took his hand from Edith’s and turned to greet Father, leaving Edith feeling bereft and causing her to wish that her parent had waited a moment later to appear.
Chapter 3
Wade put the ink pen in its well, sat back, and rubbed his eyes. The odors of the pork packing operation filtered into his dusty, closet-sized office. After two weeks of employment, he’d become, if not oblivious, at least accustomed to the smell of the place.
An unexpected sense of contentment washed over him. A month ago he never would have imagined he’d be keeping books again and certainly not for a pork packing company, but it felt good. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the mathematics of accounting. With less than five dollars in his pocket when he’d disembarked the sternwheeler River Star three weeks ago, he thanked his lucky stars for having made the chance acquaintance of Edwin Applegate outside the Madison Hotel. Or, as Ma would have said, reciting the first line of the Doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.”
As exciting as he’d often found life on the riverboats, the vagabond existence had grown stale. The monotonous moving from card game to card game, hoping and praying that Lady Luck would bring enough money to keep body and soul together while not garnering so much that it angered a drunken card player to the point of shooting him, had become tedious. The day he watched a man shot to death in front of him, he knew he had to leave that life. Ma’s voice reciting Proverbs 4:14, “Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of the evil men,” had sounded as clearly in his ear as if she’d been standing beside him. The next day he
got off the boat at Madison, trusting God to provide him a living. God provided him with Applegate Pork Packing.
Wade leaned back in his chair that creaked in protest with his movement. Yes, he could well abide the malodorous smells coming from the processing side of Applegate Pork Packing knowing that he had a home and featherbed waiting for him every evening and that on Saturday Edwin Applegate would deliver his wages in the form of a bank draft. And of course, there was Edith.
A soft sigh puffed from his lips before they stretched in a smile he couldn’t suppress. The sight of her last Friday had set his heart galloping. He couldn’t help smiling again at the memory of her armed with her broom as if ready to do battle. His pulse quickened. While her coppery hair and flashing brown eyes had fit the October day perfectly, her spunk reminded him more of a summer storm. In truth, he couldn’t blame her for viewing him as some sort of adversary. Of course she must see him as a usurper, especially since Edwin had given her no prior warning of the arrangement he’d made with Wade. She might even wonder if Wade intended to somehow finagle the property away from her and the senior Mr. Applegate.
That first night in the Applegate home, Wade had vowed to win Edith’s friendship. So when Edwin mentioned that his father desired to stay informed of the company’s business, Wade had offered to deliver a weekly accounts report to the elder Mr. Applegate in Lancaster in hopes of seeing Edith. He hadn’t imagined he’d have an opportunity to speak with her alone, so Friday’s visit to Lancaster had far exceeded his hopes and felt like a small but definite step toward his goal. The memory of their shared gaze as they commiserated over the loss of their mothers wiped the smile from Wade’s face but sent pleasant warmth radiating through him. In that moment he’d felt a connection with her. He must build on that connection and find a way to disabuse her of the notion that he harbored any nefarious schemes to legally wrest her home from her and her father. Something he’d noticed last evening on the bedroom chifforobe dresser might be just the thing to help win her trust.
Excitement for his plan bloomed in his chest then withered. Friday seemed a long time away from midday on Tuesday.
He blew out an impatient breath. As Ma always said, “Anything worth having is worth waiting for. “And Edith Applegate was certainly worth waiting for.
The clock in Mr. Applegate’s office down the hall began chiming the noon hour. Wade closed the open ledger book on his desk and stood. Perhaps he would avail himself of the restaurant in the Madison Hotel for his midday meal.
“Wade.” Edwin Applegate poked his ruddy, bespectacled face into Wade’s office. “Sophie mentioned this morning that she and Edith would be making pork and vegetable stew today and asked me to invite you to our noon repast.”
Wade’s heart did a little hop, not because of the stew that did sound delicious, but at the opportunity to see Edith three days earlier than he’d thought.
“Why, yes. Thank you, Mr. Applegate. I’d like that very much.” Forcing a nonchalant tone to his voice, he tried to rein his heart to a slow canter. “Restaurant fare does get tiresome.” A smile he couldn’t control stretched his cheeks taut.
As they walked the three blocks from the company building to Edwin Applegate’s home, Wade allowed Edwin to monopolize the conversation, which ranged from the week’s business to the latest antics of his eighteen-month-old son, Archie.
“Neither Sophie nor I can imagine how the little scamp got out of his crib, let alone opened the pantry door. But there he was on the kitchen floor, all covered in molasses and cornmeal.” Edwin leaned his head back and let out a hearty guffaw.
Wade managed to produce the expected chuckle as he turned up the collar of his wool coat, fending off a chilly breeze blowing from the Ohio River. “My mother loved to tell about all the mischief my brother, Jube, and I would get up to.” As much as he would like to inquire if Edith would be joining them for the meal, three years of playing card games for a living had taught him not to reveal his hand.
Edwin turned a curious face to Wade. “Is Jube your only sibling, or do you have other brothers and sisters?” He angled a shamefaced grin at Wade. “Sophie’s always scolding me for not inquiring more into the lives of my employees.”
“No, it’s just Jube and I.” Wade managed a tight smile and focused on the street in front of them, hoping Edwin would move on to another subject. He’d rather not divulge more about his family or the real reason he left their plantation outside Natchez.
“Ah, here we are.” Edwin stopped in front of a two-story brick home, situated about halfway down the block. “And there is Father’s horse and buggy.” He nodded toward a handsome roan mare attached to a neat black phaeton—the same one Wade had noticed parked behind the Applegates’ little stone house in Lancaster. “I’m not sure if I mentioned that Edith holds classes here on Tuesdays now.”
Wade’s heart thumped harder. Before he could get a word past his drying lips, Edwin spoke, his smile widening. “I can almost smell that stew now.” He unfastened an impressive wrought-iron gate gaining them access to a neat leaf-strewn yard bisected by a brick walkway that led up to a white-pillared front porch. He turned and fastened the gate behind them. “Can’t be too careful,” he said with a grin. “Or we’re liable to be chasing Archie all the way down to the river.”
Wade followed Edwin inside where delicious aromas welcomed them into a narrow foyer, making Wade’s mouth water.
Edwin took off his hat and coat and hung them on a coat tree in the corner and invited Wade to do the same. “There’s a water closet down the hall if you’d like to wash some of that ink off your hands while I let Sophie know we’ve arrived.”
Wade glanced at his ink-stained hands and grinned. “A hazard of the accounting trade, I suppose. Yes, thank you, I think I will.”
A few minutes later he exited the washroom and nearly bumped into Dahlia carrying a chubby toddler.
Dahlia shifted the little boy whom Wade assumed was Archie Applegate on her left hip and smiled up at Wade. “Hello, Mr. Beaumont. Are you havin’ lunch with us?”
Wade smiled back. “Yes. I understand we’ll be dining on pork stew.”
Dahlia nodded as Archie squirmed in her arms. “I helped Miss Edith cut up the carrots and taters before we had class.” She set Archie, who’d begun fussing, on his feet and glanced down the hall behind her. “I’ll show you the music room where we have class after I take Archie to his ma, but you can go on in there if you want.”
“I’d like that, Dahlia. I’ll see you in the music room.” He gave her a parting smile and headed down the hall, a tendril of sadness curling around the wonder sprouting in his chest. If only Ma could have seen this. Wade had found the world that he and Ma dreamed of back in Mississippi, a world where black and white children learned together and grew up as equals. On the southern side of the Ohio River, such a world had seemed fantastic, but here the Applegates and others like them were making it happen. While the scourge of slavery still existed here on the north side of the Ohio River, the winds of change were blowing in as surely as the autumn gusts off the river. And Edith Applegate numbered among the driving forces. Mahli chito. The Choctaw word for tornado that he’d learned from the old Indian who’d taught him and Jude to fish along the banks of the Mississippi River came to mind. Yes, Edith Applegate was a whirlwind—a force of nature.
Wade stepped into the room at the end of the hall and stopped short, his heart bucking against his chest like an unbroken colt. Edith stood over a writing table gathering lined papers—much like the one Dahlia had asked him to deliver to Edith last week—into a neat pile.
She looked up and greeted him with a smile. “Mr. Beaumont. I see you’ve accepted Edwin’s invitation to dine with us.” She put the papers away in a desk drawer. “I trust you’ve worked up a good appetite. Sophie, Dahlia, and I made enough stew to feed a small army.” A beguiling dimple dented her left cheek, making Wade wonder why he hadn’t noticed it before, and then he realized he hadn’t seen her smile until this momen
t.
Dahlia skipped into the room. “May I show Mr. Beaumont where I sit for our classes, Miss Edith?”
“Of course, Dahlia.” Edith stepped from behind the desk.
Dahlia grasped Wade’s hand and towed him across the room’s oak floor to a spot about a yard in front of Edith. I sit here in front so I can help Miss Edith. ’Course I sit in one of them chairs.” She pointed to several folding carpet chairs propped against a wall.
“Those chairs,” Edith corrected in a gentle tone, her fetching dimple becoming more pronounced with her suppressed smile. “You should know, Mr. Beaumont, Dahlia is my true right arm.” She smiled at Dahlia, who beamed beneath her praise. “I’m not sure I could get through a class without her.”
Edwin walked into the room with Archie in his arms. “Sophie tells me that the lunch table is set, so I suggest we all head that way.” His smile stretched his thin mustache into a straight line above his lip. “My good wife may be small in stature, but I’d advise you not to get on her bad side.”
Everyone except for Archie, who had a thumb stuck in his mouth, shared a laugh and followed Edwin and his son across the house to the dining room.
“Wade, let me introduce my wife, Sophie.” Edwin strode to the end of a long cherrywood dining table to stand beside a pretty young woman who would have looked much shorter if not for her blond curls piled high on her head. He glanced down at his wife, whose height barely reached his bicep. “Sophie, this is Mr. Wade Beaumont, our new accountant.”
The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War Page 9