by Lucy Evanson
In Love’s Territory
Lucy Evanson
Copyright 2012 Lucy Evanson
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Excerpt from Husband on Credit
Chapter 1
Boston, 1856.
Kate felt lightheaded as she closed her bedroom door and collapsed on the bed. Papa must be losing his wits, she thought. How could he ever think that this would be best for the family? The loss of her mother the year before had been bad enough, and now he wanted to uproot everybody and move them halfway across the continent? It was too much.
For a moment she even feared that she was going to suffer some attack, that she would fall senseless to the floor, shaking like a mad woman. Well, there would certainly be cause for that. The thought of leaving Boston, leaving the only home she’d ever known, was something that turned her insides to ice water and literally stole her breath away. It meant no more leisurely spring walks across the Common with her friends, watching the children racing across the grass. No more day trips to the seaside, where she could spend hours sketching, reading and simply watching the tireless waves throw themselves upon the shore.
Kate rolled over onto her back and let a great sigh escape. How many staff had he said were at the farm? Three? Only three to run the whole house? It was madness. The entire idea was madness. It meant that there would be no more evenings at the theater with her family. No more sea air, so bracing on a summer morning. Good Lord, no more shoes from Mr. Goldberg. Another chill ran through her as she glanced down at her feet. She had her father’s feet, and Mr. Goldberg was the only shoemaker who seemed to be able to fashion shoes that fit properly. I’m headed out to a farm in the wilderness with a tiny household staff and poorly shod besides. What have I done to deserve this?
She allowed herself a few minutes of self-pity before she rose and began pacing back and forth in her room, propelled by the nerves that had built up within her. It was unseemly, of course, to worry about things like this when her father had lost his brother. It had been a difficult couple of years, with the earlier loss of her mother and now her uncle Bill. She hadn’t seen him in years—he’d gone off to make his fortune in the Territories when Kate had been just a girl—but his letters had always been read aloud by her father at dinner, filling the children’s heads with fanciful stories about his life as he carved a farm out of the forest and prairie of the Wisconsin Territory. His letters of late had been shorter and less conversational, less focused on daily life on the farm and more on grand philosophical thoughts. Kate only later realized that her father had been editing the letters as he read, omitting any mention of Bill’s disease as it progressed, shielding his children from the pain of seeing another family member succumb to illness.
While the children had been shocked by the news of Bill’s death when it had arrived three weeks ago, the larger surprise had arrived at the supper table tonight.
“We’re moving to Wisconsin,” their father had announced. “I’m going to take over my brother’s farm.”
Kate and her brothers stared at each other. Their father had a dry sense of humor and it was often difficult to know when he was joking. Jake, the youngest, eventually burst out laughing.
“Of course,” he said. “Just like when you said that you were going to learn to play the violin.” Now Kate and Mark joined him in laughter; their father’s enthusiasm for playing had lasted approximately until he finished his first formal lesson. Since then the violin had been stored out of sight in an upstairs closet.
“That was different,” he said. “I just didn’t have time to practice. But I’m completely serious about this. I’ve already been making plans for weeks, ever since we found out that Bill died. We leave a week from today.”
Around the table, the laughter of Kate and her brothers died abruptly.
“But what are we going to do in Wisconsin?” Mark asked. “That’s practically the wilderness.”
“It’s going to be different, I know,” he allowed. “But you kids have lived all your lives here in Boston. This is a chance to see another part of the country, to try something new in your lives. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Before he could continue, Kate heard words coming out of her own mouth. “But what about our friends, our lives here? It’s not fair!” She wished that her voice had sounded less excitable, but her complaint had leaped out almost uncontrolled. Life on a farm in some town she’d never heard of before, when placed alongside her comfortable routine here in Massachusetts, didn’t strike her as the opportunity of a lifetime. It sounded like a prison sentence. Or banishment.
“Kate, I know that this must seem like a shock to you,” Thomas said. “But I’ve been considering this for a very long time, ever since Bill first wrote that he was ill.” He brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed his brow, as if the mere mention of his brother brought him pain. “He told me long ago the he was going to leave me Taylor Farm, and I knew that it would be a perfect place for us.”
“Maybe it will be perfect for you,” Kate said. “But you grew up on a farm. We’ve only ever lived in the city. This could be very difficult for us. Plus, who knows what might happen out there in the wilderness? It could be dangerous.”
“They might have wild animals,” Jake said. “Bears, maybe!”
“Or what about Indians?” Mark added. “Maybe we’ll get to see Indians!”
“Bill never mentioned anything about bears roaming around the farm, but there’s a lot of deer. You boys can learn to hunt,” Thomas said. “And I don’t know about Indians. What I do know is that I wouldn’t take you anywhere if I thought it was going to be dangerous. Or if I thought it would be too difficult for you,” he said, glancing at Kate. “So I’m asking you to trust me and to give this a chance,” he said. “Nothing in this life is forever; we can always come back to Boston if it turns out that we don’t like it there. But let’s at least try. Okay?”
Jake and Mark nodded immediately, and Kate’s father turned to her.
“Okay, Katie?”
She stared down at the table. “Do you really mean that, what you said about coming back to Boston if we don’t like it?”
Thomas reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Of course,” he said. “You should know—you should all know—that the most important thing to me is that you’re all happy.”
“But we’re happy here,” she said.
Her father let out a long sigh. “Kate, all that Boston has for me now are sad memories,” he said. “I can’t go anywhere without remembering your mother. Every time I leave the house I see something that brings her to mind. And here at home…at our home….” He fell silent, drumming his fingers on the tabletop while he built up the strength to continue. “I’ll never forget your mother, but I can’t go on like this. The change will do me good. It’ll do us all good.”
As he looked around the table at Kate and her brothers, she could see tears brimming in his eyes, and the last of her opposition melted away—at least, the last that she would voice. Her father did have a point. She had known no other city, but Boston had taken on a different tone since her mother had passed away, as if even the colors of the city had become darker.
“Okay, then,” she said quietly. “We’ll go.”
For the next hour, the conversation had flo
wed over her as the men discussed what life on the farm would be like, and their father shared his plans for them. Kate heard almost none of it. She was already making a list in her mind, cataloguing all the changes headed her way. Her mind raced back and forth between the discussion at the dinner table and her own thoughts. No more nor’easters; they had tornadoes out there. And what did they have instead of lobster? Cows. Oh, this will be just lovely. And what about her plans to marry? Of course, she hadn’t met anybody worth marrying yet, but that was surely more likely to happen in Boston than out in the Territories. Or the state, whatever Wisconsin was now. It was bad enough that so many of her friends had already been either married or engaged, and she was growing tired of hearing them lecture her about how her life would change when she “eventually” got married. Let’s see, I’ll probably end up with my choice of an ignorant, illiterate farmer, or an ignorant, illiterate cowboy or whatever they have out there.
She rolled over and off of the bed. I must go speak to Laura. She should have some advice for me. She went downstairs and gave a hurried word to her father before making the quick two-block walk to Laura’s family brownstone.
Their housekeeper gave her an arched eyebrow at the late visit, but Kate pressed on and made her way to the parlor while waiting for her friend. Not for the first time, she felt a peculiar combination of envy and pity as she looked around the room. Laura’s husband had done exceedingly well dealing in land speculation and had used his massive income to stuff every corner of the home with gaudy, tasteless yet expensive knick-knacks. Instead of sitting in a moneyed family’s parlor, Kate always felt like she was sitting in a poor house, in a home whose owners had acquired their money in fits and spurts, buying nothing that went with anything else and ending up with a truly overwhelming assortment of mismatched items. She could only shake her head.
“Kate!” she heard. “Is something the matter?”
Kate stood and turned just as Laura was entering the parlor; the two friends quickly embraced before sitting on the sofa to talk. Kate explained everything, eliciting shocked gasps and exclamations from Laura as she spoke, and leaving the other girl practically speechless by the time she’d finished.
“Kate, I…I guess I don’t even know what to say. This is just like when the Brown family moved away.”
“The Browns? What are you talking about? They just moved to the South End,” Kate protested. “You could see them every day if you wanted to.”
“But it’s just not the same,” Laura said. “And now with you leaving, I’m practically going to be all alone here.”
“You’re going to be all alone? What about me? I’m—”
“Oh my gosh!” Laura said, a startled look on her face.
“What?”
“You’re going to miss that boring party the Andersons throw every summer! Who am I going to talk to?”
“Laura, who cares about the Andersons’ party? Don’t you understand that I’m moving across the continent? You’re going to be all alone at a dinner party; I’m going to be all alone out in the wilderness!” Kate again wished that her voice would be calmer, but speaking the words aloud made her realize just what she was getting into. She could feel her breath coming in quick gasps now at the thought of being uprooted and torn from all she knew and loved here at home. Her outburst, at least, had seemed to finally impress the seriousness of her situation on Laura, whose face bore a shocked look, as if she had just now realized what Kate was up against.
Laura opened her arms and hugged Kate tightly.
“There must be something we can do to keep you here,” she said. “We just need to think of a reason why you can’t travel.”
A sense of relief began to grow inside Kate. Now this was why she had come to see Laura. Her lifelong friend refused to surrender to facts until she had considered every alternative, and the thought of Kate leaving had seemed to motivate her at last. Laura stood up and began pacing back and forth.
“How have you been feeling lately?”
“Perfectly fine,” Kate said.
“That’s too bad. We can’t claim that your poor health prevents you from traveling,” she said. “Unless, of course, you suffer some accident or other misfortune. Let’s save that idea for later.”
“Or let’s think of something else entirely,” Kate said.
“Very well. Let’s see…you said he’s keeping the house here. Won’t he need somebody to look after the place?”
“I doubt it,” Kate said. “He’s keeping on Mrs. Greely to do just that. And if it comes down to me living alone in the house with Mrs. Greely, then I think I’d rather take my chances in the wilderness.”
“Okay. Perhaps you could find some kind of employment?”
“Now you’re just being silly,” Kate said.
Laura continued walking back and forth, tracing a path along the pattern woven into the large Oriental rug that covered the floor. “You’ve finished your schooling, so that’s not an option,” she said. “Do you have any relatives here you could stay with?”
“Nobody close enough that I’d feel comfortable with,” Kate said.
For quite some time, Laura persisted in her questions, trying to find Kate a way out, but every suggestion was something that Kate had either thought of herself and rejected, or simply impractical. As the minutes passed, the suggestions arose more and more slowly, until they stopped entirely and Laura let herself fall heavily back to the sofa.
“I’m out of ideas.”
Kate leaned back and let out a low sigh. “Well, at least we tried. I guess that’s the important thing.” Kate looked to the clock. “I suppose I should be going. It’s getting late.”
“Okay,” Laura said. “My husband will be wondering what’s taking me so long.” Her eyes suddenly flashed wide and she grabbed Kate by both shoulders. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“You can’t leave Boston if you’re going to get married!”
Kate reached up to remove her friend’s hands. “I already thought of that,” she said. “But if I haven’t found a suitable man after living here all my life, I’m not going to find one in the next couple of days.”
“That’s the lucky thing! You don’t even need to look for a man,” Laura said. “I know a man who would love to marry you already.”
“You’d better not be talking about Gerald again,” Kate said. Laura’s brother-in-law had been seeking Kate’s affections for years—at least, when he was sober, which was happening with less and less frequency as time went by.
“Of course, Gerald,” she said. “Who else would have you so quickly?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t take it like that,” Laura said. “It’s just that we’re in a hurry, and he already likes you.”
“He doesn’t like me nearly as much as he likes the bottle,” Kate said. “No thanks.” She took a deep breath. “Laura, thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your help. But it seems like this is a problem I’ll have to face all alone.”
A lopsided smile, somewhat sad, appeared on Laura’s face. “Not entirely alone,” she said. “You’ll have your family. And we’ll write to each other, won’t we? I mean, they do have mail out there, don’t they?”
“Of course we’ll write,” Kate said. “I’ll need you to keep me up to date on what’s happening here in Boston.”
“You can count on it. By the way, if you have time, let’s go to the Commons before you leave,” Laura said. “You know, for old times’ sake.”
“That would be lovely,” Kate said as Laura walked with her to the front door. “I’ll come by in a couple of days.” She gave her friend a final hug and stepped out into the street.
As Kate walked home, she tried to ignore the glow of the gaslights that lined the streets and softly illuminated the fronts of the brownstones. She had always loved walking early in the evening; it seemed that the city looked best when the streetlights still competed with the last traces of light in the sky ove
rhead. Tonight, however, she was afraid that it would all be too depressing to contemplate, as her days here were literally numbered. She instead kept her eyes to the ground as she walked home.
When she arrived, her father and brothers were still in the parlor, tossing around guesses about what their lives would be like in only a few days’ time. They all seem so excited. Am I the only one who thinks we’re making a mistake?
She said good night and went up alone to her bedroom. Normally one of the household staff would have helped her undress, but tonight she didn’t want to see anybody. I might as well start getting used to it, she thought, struggling to reach the ties of her corset. Life is about to get a whole lot harder whether I like it or not. When she had finally changed into her nightshirt and crawled into bed, she tossed and turned for an hour before sleep finally overcame her.
The next several days passed as if she were living a horrible dream. Every morning she opened her eyes with a sense of dread, like a condemned man whose appointment with the executioner was fast approaching. Kate’s life had quickly been turned upside-down and even the most routine activities had taken on an odd finality: a walk around the old neighborhood with her brother was followed by an afternoon sorting clothes, deciding what to bring and what to leave behind. A trip to the market was pared down to the barest essentials so as not to waste. Even a final day trip to the seaside, which she normally loved, failed to raise her spirits. Instead, it only made her sad to watch the children playing in the sand. This could be the last time I ever see the ocean, she thought.
One child in particular, a girl who shared Kate’s dark hair, had built up quite a sand castle, decorated with flags made of seaweed and scraps of paper. Both Kate and the girl watched as the surf rolling up the beach came nearer and nearer, eating away at the edge of the castle until it eventually collapsed and was washed away. That’s what’s happening to my life, Kate thought as the girl burst into tears. Everything is going to be washed away.
She rubbed her forehead. This isn’t how I want to remember this. The water has always been a pleasant place, a comforting place, and I’m letting myself turn it into something it’s not.
The little girl’s mother came to her and hugged her, wiping away the tears, and bent to whisper something in the girl’s ear. After a minute her mood seemed to brighten and she got to work building a new castle farther up the sand, now out of reach of the water. Soon it was as if nothing had ever happened and she was running and playing with her brothers while seaweed flags flew from her palace once again.
Kate watched for a little while longer and then went back up the sand to where her driver waited for her at the roadside. He helped her into the carriage and Kate turned for a final look. Maybe it was the girl’s laughter, floating to her on the breeze that rolled in from the ocean. Perhaps it was the scent of the sea air, which made her remember herself as a child, running on the sand and playing in the water. Whatever the reason, she slowly began to feel more at ease with the thought of the journey that would begin the following morning. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, she thought as she looked over in time to see the little girl returning to her castle, crowning it with a clamshell that she had plucked from the surf. Perhaps this will be the beginning of a wonderful adventure.
Kate took a final gulp of salt air, and then settled back into the seat. “Very well,” she said to the driver. “Time to go home.”