Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters

by Danni Roan

“Car’,” Reese called, opening the door and stepping into the enveloping warmth of a room already full of the aromas of breakfast. “I’m afraid Ms. Mae went for a walk and fell into the surf. Could you help her get changed and then see to it that her clothing is cleaned?” He offered the gray-haired woman a boyish grin.

  “Oy, now Mr. Reese, what have you been up to this time?” the woman’s voice was indulgent as if he just snuck a cookie from the cookie jar.

  “It’s true,” Mae responded. “I went down to look at the ocean and I fell right in. Mr. Reese was nearby and kindly helped me out. I’m dreadfully embarrassed by it all.”

  The old cook clicked her tongue knowingly. “Well it will be our little secret then, won’t it? Now let us get you out of those wet clothes and back into bed. It’s no time for a fine young lady like yourself to be up and stirring.”

  Mae allowed herself to be hustled out of the kitchen and into a small room where a young woman came to collet her wet clothing, wrapping her mummy-like in a large warm robe at least twice her size.

  “Now weren’t that romantic like,” the young woman offered as she helped Mae into the warm wrap. “Mr. Reese most surely is the dashingest man.” Her grin spoke volumes as she giggled and ushered Mae toward the back stairs.

  “He’s a very nice man,” Mae said, wondering what the other woman was on about.

  “Now you just climb right back into bed and I’ll bring you a lovely hot chocolate.” The girl smiled at her brightly, while she pulled the blankets back from the bed. “I sure am glad to have some new life ‘round here.” She patted Mae’s cheek, and then dashed out of the room.

  “Servants are very confusing,” Mae whispered to the now empty room as she snuggled deeper into the soft bed.

  Chapter 11

  “Father, I’m sure he’ll be a great asset to the firm,” Melissa’s voice could be clearly heard echoing from the dining room as Mae came down for breakfast.

  “He’s nothing but a bruiser,” her father replied. “I don’t need his kind working at my business.”

  “He’s not like that,” Mel argued again, but before she could get started, Reese’s voice intervened.

  “I say we give him a chance, Father. The reasons he gave me for his current situation seemed reasonable enough.”

  “What possible reason could someone have for brawling?”

  “A sister.” Reese’s words were flat as he poured himself a cup of strong black coffee. He carefully avoided looking at Mel.

  Mae watched as Mr. Middleton looked between Melissa and Reese then huffed.

  “Alright, I’ll give him a chance, but it’s against my better judgement.”

  “Good morning,” Mae spoke, hoping they wouldn’t think she’d been eavesdropping.

  “Good morning, Mae,” Mel’s voice was bright. “Did you hear? Father has agreed to give Carl a job.”

  ***

  The next few days flew by for Mae as Mel and Reese showed her around the Cape. The somewhat brooding Carl also accompanied them, doing odd jobs and assisting Mel with her every whim. Mae thought that some of the things Mel had the man do were ridiculous as she could have done them herself, but what did she know about high society.

  Each day they would find time to stroll along the beach, searching for seashells or driftwood and enjoying the open air.

  Mae’s skin prickled in the bright sun and salty air, and soon she found herself actually using the light parasol her aunt had insisted upon her bringing.

  The highlight of the trip, however, was not the strolls, or the food, or even the relaxed atmosphere of the Cape home, but the day they went sailing.

  “Do you know how to sail, Mr. McHain?” Reese asked as he strode toward the long dock that stretched out to the dark water.

  “Aye. I used to run a skiff to some of the big clippers to bring back passengers or crew.”

  “Wonderful. I’m sure the ladies will enjoy a turn-about the bay this morning.” He eyed his sister carefully as she observed the other man. No matter how closely he watched, however, he still felt that he was missing something.

  The wind was brisk and the waves further out had tiny white caps whipped up by the breeze.

  “I’ve never been on a boat,” Mae said as she walked beside Reese. “It looks so exciting.”

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. I don’t think the swells are so great that they’ll make you ill.” He turned to study her face, aglow with the delight of a new adventure and he could not help but smile. “I’ve always enjoyed the freedom of sailing, it’s as if nothing can touch you and you’re alone with nature.”

  “My father would say it’s a chance to get away with God,” Mae spoke as he helped her onto the deck of the small sloop.

  Reese’s eyebrows pinched together questioningly. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do alone with God,” he quipped, trying to distract her from the gentle motion of the boat.

  “Up ya get, Lass,” He heard McHain call beside him, and watched as the man half-lifted his sister onto the boat. Unlike Mae, Melissa had been sailing since she was a child and he didn’t see the need for such assistance, but Reese kept quiet.

  A half an hour later they were tacking out to sea, zig-zagging a course that allowed them to take advantage of a cross wind.

  Mae walked to the edge of the boat, letting the gentle rocking travel up her legs to her core. The boat’s jigging made her feel unsteady at first, but then she moved her feet apart and imagining that it was the same as sitting astride a fractious horse, she found a way of rolling with the waves.

  Reese found that he and Carl worked well together adjusting the rigging. The man knew his way around sail and jib, and soon they were moving at a good clip, cutting through the water like a blade through butter.

  “She’s a fine rig,” Carl called from near the stern where he had just finished tying off a line.

  Reese smiled and turned back from the helm to watch Mae leaning into the wind. He couldn’t believe that a girl who had never stepped foot on a boat before could stand so still on the deck with such grace. The wind that furled the sails batted at her skirts, and pulled at strands of her hair.

  “You’d better take a seat,” Reese called to Mae, indicating with a nod of his head where Mel had already ensconced herself.

  Mae’s bright smile tried to outshine the sun, her whole countenance seemed to glow. “It’s like flying!” she called, her voice breathless. “Like galloping across the prairie, or standing on a high peak.”

  Taking the rail in her hands, she moved to the back of the boat and sat beside Melissa. “I can’t believe you don’t do this every day.”

  “Every day isn’t as beautiful as today. Some days the wind could pick this boat up and snap it like a twig.”

  Mae shivered. “My grandparents came here by boat. They sailed from Europe and landed in New York. Nona said there were two big storms on the way to America and that she and Cammie were sick half the time. She hated the sea and said she’d never look back.”

  “And how about you Mae? How do you feel about the sea? It is beautiful, but beauty can hide danger. For today I’ll enjoy the privilege of gliding over the waves.”

  That night Mae scurried to Mel’s room to discuss the day. She was tired, but too excited to sleep. “I’ve had such a wonderful time.” she said to her friend. “I can’t believe how perfect today was.”

  Mel smiled, taking Mae’s hand. “It’s been a splendid visit; it’s almost tragic to have to go back to Boston tomorrow.”

  Mae’s joy seemed to evaporate. “I must get back, though. Aunt Jemma has so much for me to do. I know she wants me to start mixing more with her friends. She even mentioned another of her stuffy dinner parties before we left.”

  “It must be terribly dull for you,” Mel said. “Still, we’ll see each other every week. I’ll make Reese promise to take us riding or driving or something.”

  Mae smiled again. “I don’t know what I would ever have done without you.” Her smile was interrupte
d by a yawn. “I’d better get off to bed now, we have an early morning ahead.” Impulsively, she hugged the other girl and bounced out of the room.

  Chapter 12

  “Aunt Jemma, this gown is entirely too low,” Mae squeaked. “I’m sure Pa wouldn’t approve.”

  “Your Pa isn’t here and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” replied Jemma Johnson, lifting her chin.

  “I can’t wear this. I’ll feel indecent.” Mae looked at her aunt, and didn’t budge.

  “You’ll wear it and that’s that,” the older woman snapped.

  Mae narrowed her eyes. She had gone along with her aunt’s desires as much as possible through the year, and tried her best not to make waves. Her aunt had experience dealing with society people and she’d trusted her judgement in most things, but this was going too far. She couldn’t believe that any decent young lady would be willing to show so much bosom at a dinner party.

  “No,” she said evenly, making sure no anger entered her voice.

  “No! No!” Jemma screeched. “You have the nerve to say no to me after all I’ve done for you?”

  Shame bubbled in Mae’s stomach but she simply could not wear the dress in good conscience.

  “I’m sorry, Auntie, but I can’t.”

  “Then you’ll stay here until you change your mind.” The older woman’s voice buzzed like a bucket of hornets as she turned on her heel, marched through the door and closed it with a resounding snap.

  Mae stood frozen to the spot for the longest time. From the corner of her eye she saw Ginny slip from the bathroom that adjoined her room. The young maid looked troubled and uncertain.

  “It’s alright, Ginny. I’m perfectly happy to stay in my rooms tonight.”

  “But miss, your aunt can have a terrible temper.”

  “Ginny, look at this dress, would you be seen in it?” Mae twisted her mouth to indicate her true feelings about the pale blue gown with the large puffy sleeves and deeply cut bodice. “Another inch and I’d pop right out.”

  A smile tugged at Ginny’s lips. “Perhaps a collar.” Her voice was so soft it was barely a whisper.

  “What kind of collar would possible cover up all of this?” Mae swept her hand back and forth over the exposed skin.

  “I’ll be right back, Miss,” Ginny offered with a smile, “you wait right here.”

  A few minutes later the young woman reappeared with a high lace collar in her hands. The delicately hand tatted lace was slightly discolored, but the intricate rose and chain pattern was outstanding.

  “It’s beautiful, Ginny,” Mae offered, touching the starched piece reverently.

  “It was my mother’s,” Ginny said. “Let me see how it looks.”

  With great care she placed the collar over Mae’s neck, the soft patterns covering her décolletage with ease.

  “Mother was a rather tall woman,” Ginny offered. “I’m afraid we’ll have to just pin it in place though. What do you think?” Gently she turned Mae toward the mirror.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Mae spoke softly, touching the collar again, “and it covers everything.”

  Ginny smiled brightly. “Good, now let me set it right, then you can go and have your dinner with those old fuddy-duddies.”

  Mae’s entry into the dining room created quite a buzz. “Oh, you are feeling better I see,” her aunt said, rising and indicating for Mae to sit. “I’m so glad your headache has passed.” She smiled around the table.

  Mae bit her lip and didn’t reply to the lie her aunt had told. Instead, she simply took the seat indicated and nodded.

  “Isn’t your collar stunning,” an older woman across the table from her spoke, pushing a pair of spectacles up her nose. “It’s so intricate.”

  “Thank you. I thought it matched the blue very well.”

  “It does indeed,” an older man with a significant middle age paunch and a receding hairline studied the lace. Mae shivered at the attention, it felt as if he were trying to see beneath the collar at the bare skin below.

  All of the people around the table were old, not one of them could have been under thirty. Still Mae did her best to be polite and interested. The conversations were largely about the most recent fashions, or gossip about friends who were away for the winter.

  Each time a peevish voice would drop a critical comment about another of Boston’s upper crust, Mae could feel her Nona’s displeasure. “If you don’t have anything good to say about someone, best keep quiet.” Bianca Leoné her grandmother, had said more times than she could count.

  After her time at the Cape with Melissa, playing games each night, talking and sharing about life in two very different worlds, this dinner seemed like a sad attempt at importance.

  “Miss James? Miss James?” the man across the table was speaking again. “Miss James? I was asking you when you’ll be eighteen.” He smiled, causing the apple of his cheeks to swell and the crinkles around his eyes to discolor.

  “I turned seventeen in October” Mae responded cheerfully.

  “I see, I see.” Again he smiled. “I’m Mr. Wilms, my dear, and if you need anything at all while in the city please don’t hesitate to ask.” His overly plump lips stretched across yellowed teeth.

  “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Mae’s smile felt frozen. By the end of the evening she felt like she not only needed her bed but a bath to wash off the strange falseness, the feelings of something wrong.

  As the door closed on the last guest, Mae braced herself for the inevitable backlash of her actions.

  Jemma Johnson’s mouth was a thin slash across her face and her eyes blazed. “You ungrateful, selfish, yokel.” Her voice was a steel rasp.

  “I did as you asked,” Mae tried, her voice innocent. “I wore the dress like you wanted.”

  The smile that broke across her aunt’s face was glacial. “You will not defy me in my own home, Mae James. You will go to your room and I will not see nor hear from you for the next two days while you think on your behavior.”

  “But Aunt Jemma, I’m going riding with Melissa tomorrow, we already agreed.”

  “You should have thought of that before you defied me, young lady. You will be going exactly nowhere for the next two days.”

  Bright tears sprung to Mae’s eyes. “What will I tell Mel? She’ll be so disappointed.” As the tears trickled down her face. “Please, Aunt Jemma!” Mae wailed. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

  Jemma smirked. “Go.” Her voice was cold, as she pointed toward the stairs.

  With a heart-wrenching hiccup, Mae grabbed her skirts, turned and raced up the stairs. A moment late the slamming of a door punctuated the scene, bringing it to a sudden halt.

  ***

  “Miss Mae, please stop crying,” Ginny continued to plead as she patted the young woman’s back where she lay on the bed. “Look, here’s Bagger come to see you.” She lifted the plump possum onto the bed.

  “I did everything I was told,” Mae sniffled, sitting up and rubbing her puffy eyes. “Why is Aunt Jemma so mean?” Reaching out, she picked up the small, gray creature and rubbed its tummy. The little orphan was now grown and as often as not would creep away into the trees around the house.

  Ginny handed her ward a handkerchief. “Dry your eyes Miss,” she cajoled

  “Ginny, I’m supposed to go riding with Mel tomorrow. What will she think if I don’t go? She’ll think I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

  “I’m sure Ms. Middleton will think no such thing. She’s a very sensible young lady.”

  Mae sat up straighter on her bed. “What do you think Jemma will tell her?” she dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose indelicately, making Ginny smile.

  “She’ll never do anything that might embarrass her, so I’m sure she’ll say you have a headache or something like that.”

  Mae reached out and grasped Ginny’s wrist. “Ginny, you have to find out and let me know. Promise me.”

  The young maid’s eyes grew round. “But Miss, if I get caug
ht.”

  “You don’t have to be obvious. You only need to be nearby when Mel and Reese come by in the morning.” Mae’s dark eyes were imploring.

  “I’ll do my best,” Ginny finally acquiesced, a hint of excitement in her eyes.

  “Oh, I knew I could count on you, Ginny,” Mae cried, throwing her arms around the other young woman’s neck. “What would I do without you?”

  Ginny pulled back, a shy grin on her face. “Looks to me like you’d sleep in that dress. Come on then, I’ll run you a bath and you’ll feel better after a good-night’s sleep.”

  Embarrassment tinted Mae’s cheeks as she looked down at the crumpled skirts of the blue dress. She was really starting to despise blue.

  A long soak in the porcelain tub restored some of Mae’s spirits and she felt sleep stalking her while Ginny brushed her hair dry.

  “It’s been a terribly long day, Ginny,” Mae said, stifling a yawn.

  “You can have a good sleep tonight. We will pretend it’s a holiday. You can read and write letters and rest.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Mae’s voice was drowsy.

  “Now off to bed with you,” Ginny said, finishing the last twist on a tight braid and steering Mae toward her bed by the shoulders.

  “Thank you, Ginny,” Mae sighed as she tumbled into bed. “You are far too good to me.”

  Ginny closed the door silently and for the first time was truly displeased with her job. Somehow, she had to find the courage to see that Ms. Middleton knew the truth about her friend.

  Chapter 13

  Boston Massachusetts June 1891

  “I can’t believe you brought that nag,” Melissa Middleton chided, cutting a dark look at her brother, “he looks ridiculous under saddle.”

  Reese laughed and tugged on the reins he held in his hand. To be honest his sister was right, but he wanted Mae to see the cart horse she had rescued again, and to see that he was working well as a riding horse.

  “He’s not what I’d call an attractive horse. I can’t deny that,” he chucked, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.