Reforming Elizabeth

by Lorin Grace

  “I didn’t realize you bore five children.”

  “Six, if you count George, but he didn’t live out the day. I outlived them all, and my only grandchild. Becca died in childbirth. Her husband, William, died with Henry Junior, of dysentery. It killed so many of our soldiers. More of them died of illness than of the Red Coats’ bayonets.” Mina paused and looked out the window toward the small cemetery. At least Thomas died close enough to home to bury his body nearby. Henry Junior and William lay in graves surrounded by those of other soldiers, too far south for her to visit.

  Elizabeth lowered her head over her spinning. “I’m sorry Aunt Mina. It must have been very hard for you to be so alone.”

  “It was not so bad, I had Henry by my side much longer than either of us expected, and I have good friends, and now I have you. Patience may not like it much, but I think I shall claim you as my granddaughter.”

  “Granddaughter?”

  “Yes, if I had one, I would like her to be much like you.”

  “But, Aunt Mina, I am nothing but trouble.”

  “Posh. That is your father speaking. You’re much improved over your arrival. I now look forward to your cooking, even on days when you try a new recipe.” Mina let out a chuckle.

  Elizabeth blushed.

  “And you seem to have taken both mine and Gideon’s advice to heart about your flirtations. Mina raised her brows. “Unless I haven’t been apprised of something.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I haven’t tried anything.”

  “But you have thought of it?”

  The red on Elizabeth’s cheeks deepened. “Just once or twice. I am avoiding Mr. Butler. So far I have remembered your council. I have been circumspect around other men.”

  “So far?”

  “It is so hard not to be as I was. I want men to admire me.”

  Mina gave her niece a disapproving look.

  “I know I shouldn’t, but it makes me feel special when men pay attention to me. The first time I made a dinner everyone ate, it made me feel the same way.”

  “The roast chicken with the egg sauce recipe you found in your book was a momentous occasion. I am happy I thought of purchasing The Frugal Housewife, even if it was written in England. At least it was published in Philly.”

  Mina returned to her point. “Some day you will find the one man who is the only man you ever want to admire you every day until forever.”

  “I don’t think that is likely. I made such a thorough fool of myself, no man on the North Shore will talk to me again, even with Father’s money. And East Stoughton isn’t brimming with bachelors.”

  Mina made a show of breathing in the smells coming from the kitchen. “I think it is almost dinnertime.”

  “Oh, I’d better go check my pies.” Elizabeth hurried from the room.

  Mina turned to the window. Gideon rode up the lane. Perhaps the man who would admire her niece wasn’t too far away.

  The Steward family needed more help than he could provide over the next few days. Joanna Howell was the logical choice, but she’d tried to hide a bad cold from him yesterday when she’d flagged him down to get his opinion on one of Fordyce’s Sermons. The last thing their house needed was illness.

  Elizabeth was the only other woman he could think of to help the family. She hadn’t burned food for more than two weeks, and her housekeeping skills now met Mina’s standards. His biggest worry was how she would react to the Steward’s humble circumstances. Had she matured enough to not comment on the cramped house and meager fare? Would the compassion she showed Mina transfer to others? He shook his head and sent a prayer heavenward as he unsaddled his horse.

  If Mina and Elizabeth agreed, he would need to take Mina’s buggy. He stepped in the kitchen, glad to see Elizabeth wore the ugly brown dress, a perfect choice for helping the Stewards.

  Elizabeth reached into the oven and removed four loaves of bread. She didn’t look up. “You are early. Dinner won’t be ready until almost noon, which is an hour away.”

  “Where is Mina?”

  “In the weaving room, sorting spools.” Elizabeth set the bread on the table to cool. Amazing. Only four weeks ago her bread had looked and smelled like freshly kilned bricks. Today’s bread could be favorably compared to any of the good housewives’ loaves he’d tasted over the years. Perhaps Elizabeth was up to the task.

  Gideon joined Mina in the weaving room. “Can you survive without Elizabeth for the next two or three days?”

  Mina stopped sorting and pinned him with a look. “Why, may I ask?”

  “It’s the Stewards. The boys went and found poison ivy and managed to pass it on to the older two girls. Mrs. Steward’s mother-in-law took the contaminated children to her house down in Bridgewater as she feared Deborah Steward would start her lying-in and didn’t want the children around their mother and the baby.” Gideon paused as Elizabeth entered the room. “The elder Mrs. Steward was correct, and Deborah delivered a fine baby girl early this morning. Midwife Jones doesn’t want Deborah up yet due to her age and something else she wouldn’t explain.”

  Gideon felt his face redden but forged ahead. “When David rode for the midwife last night, he took a tumble from his horse and injured his elbow and wrist. The midwife says it isn’t broken, but she wrapped his wrist and put his arm in a sling. Midwife Jones can only stay for a couple more hours as Mrs. Clark will most likely need her services tonight and she wants to catch a quick nap. The Stewards need help at least for a couple of days until either Deborah can be up, or the older children are over their rashes, and her daughters and mother-in-law can return to help with the cooking.”

  “So who is at the house?” Elizabeth slipped farther into the room.

  “David and Deborah and their two—now three—little girls. David can care for the little ones for the most part, but he is afraid both cooking and helping his wife will be too difficult. I told him I would come take care of the milking and barn chores he can’t perform until the boys are back.” Gideon looked from Mina to Elizabeth. “That is why they need Elizabeth’s help.”

  “What would I do? I don’t know much about babies.”

  “Deborah will take care of the baby, and David can help with the two little girls. They would need you to help cook and clean. Deborah may require some assistance too, but she can tell you what she needs.” Gideon felt his face redden again. He turned away from Elizabeth. He should not be embarrassed. When she did not respond, he turned back to face her.

  Elizabeth worried her lip. Gideon found her nervousness charming, so different from the defiant stand of only a fortnight ago. She needed encouragement. “I know you can do this. Two or three days at most.”

  “But my cooking—”

  “Has much improved.” Mina interrupted. “Deborah is likely to want simple foods. You’ve mastered many of those.”

  Elizabeth looked at her aunt. “What will you do if I am not here?”

  “I dare say I will survive, child. If you take all but one of the loaves you just pulled out of the oven, there will be enough for me.”

  Elizabeth turned her gaze to Gideon’s, her eyes still uncertain. “When should we leave?”

  “As soon as you can pack a small bag of essentials.” Gideon didn’t know how to tell her to make sure they were plain ones.

  Elizabeth started from the room, stopped, and turned. “Aunt Mina, do you have a valise or bag I can use?”

  “In the other room upstairs there are one or two to choose from. And don’t forget to take your needlework as you’re likely to have some quiet hours between meals. Pack an extra apron with your work dress.” Mina had just solved his problem about the type of clothing she should take.

  Gideon and Mina watched as Elizabeth retreated from the room. Neither spoke until a door opened overhead.

 
“Don’t worry Gideon, she will rise to the occasion and surprise all of us with her brilliance. It will do her good to see how the Stewards live.” Mina gave him a knowing smile.

  If only she can suppress her tongue. Gideon didn’t express the doubt aloud. The Steward’s modest home wasn’t as large as Mina’s, or as well built. At least five of the children would not be in residence, which was a blessing since the noise alone could overwhelm many a seasoned helper.

  Elizabeth’s light footfalls sounded from the stairway. Mina rose. “I best wrap some food to send with you. Having a new babe and all, they may need it.”

  An understatement, if he’d ever heard one. The Steward’s cupboard stayed just shy of bare this time of year, though milk and eggs were generally available.

  They met Elizabeth in the kitchen. Mina pulled out a basket and placed three loaves of the fresh bread wrapped in a towel beside a jar of gooseberry preserves. “Gideon, will you get some dried apples and the half ham from the cellar? Elizabeth, grab one of the bars of Baker’s chocolate. Deborah will enjoy that. Oh, and take a couple cups of sugar, too.”

  Ten minutes later Gideon was helping Elizabeth into Mina’s buggy, relieved she had not changed her dress and wore her plain cloak. His plan might work.

  Elizabeth had only been alone in a buggy with men she’d courted or attempted to court. She reminded herself that being in a buggy alone with Gideon was a necessity. She would not flirt with him—not that she wasn’t tempted. On those rare occasions when Gideon smiled at her, like he had when he’d helped her into the buggy, her stomach flipped a little flip. She ignored it as much as possible, since, odd as it was, they were just friends.

  She was filled with regret over the hair incident. The more she came to know Gideon, the more she wished she were worthy of his notice. Her “harmless” flirting had caused harm. Gideon would never take her seriously now. Sure, he would answer her questions and try to guide her and intervene when necessary, but it would always be as if she were a child and he her teacher. Sometimes a deep sadness came over his face. Elizabeth assumed it was because of his dead wife.

  As for other men, there was little choice. Twice Mr. Butler had sought to corner her after church. Both times Gideon had intercepted him long enough for her to escape with Aunt Mina. But Mr. Butler’s apparent annoyance was growing, as were his brazen appraisals. Even wrapped in her warmest cloak, a chill crawled over her whenever he looked her direction, as if she stood unclothed in his scrutiny. Mother was wrong—money would not cover all a man’s ills. If it did, Elizabeth wouldn’t fear Mr. Butler’s attention.

  Over the past week, Gideon had no reason to lecture her, giving her hope in her own reform. Could she make it through the next three days without doing something shocking? Or harming anything? What if she dropped the baby, or one of the little girls got too close to the fire? She crossed her ankles and hoped Gideon did not notice the way her legs shook. Good thing the road was bumpy.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at the fields they passed. Here and there a slight tinge of green colored an otherwise brown landscape. What if she accidentally contracted poison ivy too? What did it look like? She bit her lip. She wanted to ask Gideon, but it seemed he preferred to ride in silence. More worries assailed her. What if she burned the food? Or undercooked it and made everyone ill? Why did Gideon and Aunt Mina think she could do this?

  The buggy bounced in and out of a deep rut, and Gideon’s hand flew in front of her like her mother’s had when she was little. When Elizabeth turned to thank him, she found him studying her, and the words died on her lips.

  “Are you worried?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Don’t be. Your cooking has improved, and the Stewards are used to plainer fare than even Mina. I should warn you that you may have to sleep on a pallet on the floor.”

  “The floor?”

  “They live in a two-room cabin with a loft where the children sleep. I am only warning you so you don’t complain.”

  Elizabeth’s chin shot up. “Have you ever heard me complain? Mother says no one likes a complainer, so I don’t.”

  “Not with your mouth, but sometimes your eyes tell their own tale.”

  Humph. Elizabeth did not deny she complained plenty, silently. How did he know? She would not give him the satisfaction of confirming it. “I am sure I will be comfortable wherever I sleep.”

  Gideon flicked the reins. “Then what is worrying you?”

  “What does poison ivy look like? I would hate to get in it.”

  A chuckle sounded deep within Gideon’s throat. “There won’t be any near the house. The boys were probably playing in the woods. Poison ivy has clusters of three leaves. This early in the season it might be hard to tell which plant is the culprit or how the boys got into it. Stay close to the house and you won’t need to worry.” One of those rare grins lit his face.

  He was making fun of her. She looked away.

  His hand touched her sleeve. “Truly, I wouldn’t have recommended you if I thought you couldn’t do it.”

  The buggy lurched as they pulled into a muddy track in front of a dingy cabin. So did Elizabeth’s heart.

  Gideon finished milking the first cow. David Steward stood nearby watching over his daughters as they played with the new barn kittens.

  “I’ll be honest, Frost, when you showed up here two days ago with Miss Garrett, I almost told you to take her back. I didn’t think that spoiled little thing would do a lick of work. But she’s been a godsend. Helped my Deborah get washed up and did her hair some fancy way that has my woman grinning from ear to ear. Why, these two little ones have taken to her like they do to Christmas sweets.”

  Gideon poured the milk into the separator and moved to the next cow. He didn’t express his own surprise. Not one burned meal in two days, and every time he saw Elizabeth, a genuine smile graced her face. Earlier that afternoon, he’d paused in his wood chopping when he heard her singing to the little girls as she hung the laundry.

  David continued, his voice tight. “Did you know she stayed up late last night sewing us two new baby gowns from her own fabric? Embroidered some little flowers on the corner. My Deborah is beside herself. The hand-me-downs were in sorry shape after being used so many times, but Deborah insisted we use them and save the money for new shoes.”

  Gideon grunted a response, and the cow sidestepped, forcing him to focus on the milking rather than on Elizabeth’s motives.

  “I’m feeling pretty low about the opinion I formed of her the first time she came to church all fancy and showing off. I thought Mrs. Richards must be out of her mind to ask a niece like that to come live with her. I was none too nice to her the first day here, either. I could have put her up in the loft on the girls’ bed, but I asked her to sleep on the floor near the hearth instead. Told her I might need her help in the night. She didn’t complain. Was up before I was and made chocolate for my Deborah.” David shook his head. “Chocolate. Deborah loves it, but we haven’t purchased any in months.”

  “Miss Garrett is full of surprises.” Gideon moved on to the last cow.

  “My mother sent word. She should be bringing the older children home tomorrow afternoon. Sure been quiet around here without them. But it’s been nice to have the time with my wife and baby. Deborah wants to name her Beth in honor of Miss Garrett.” The little girls’ giggles caught David’s attention, and he turned to play with them.

  Mina had been correct. Elizabeth had risen to the challenge and handled it wonderfully. Gideon wondered what her father would think if he could hear David Steward singing his daughter’s praises. Gideon finished the barn chores, poured off a quart of cream in a small crock Elizabeth had sent out, and carried it to the house.

  He opened the door and held it for David, who trailed behind with a daughter in his good arm and the other clinging to his pant l
eg. His heart stopped beating for a moment as he stepped into the dimly lit cabin and was slow to restart as he took in the scene before him. The infant over her shoulder, Elizabeth swayed from side to side humming a quiet tune, her hair extending from her cap in a single long braid down her back.

  She turned to him, brought a finger to her lips, then tilted her head to the quilt-covered doorway. Gideon read the words that formed on her lips. “Deborah is sleeping.”

  Gideon passed the information on to David, who’d finally reached the doorway.

  In the glow of the dying fire, Elizabeth removed her stays, then slipped back into her gray dress. Sleeping just feet away from Mr. Steward and knowing she might be called on in the night, she didn’t like the idea of being caught in only her shift. As she’d discovered the first night, the stays were more uncomfortable than the wood floor. Mr. Steward and Deborah told her earlier that evening she could sleep in the loft on the older girls’ tick, but Elizabeth had declined, wanting to be near if Deborah needed her again.

  She heard the Stewards whispering and tried to block out their words, knowing they were not meant for her ears. Mr. Steward doted on his wife despite being surrounded with eight children in such a tiny house. He’d done his best to assist Deborah with the baby and the girls. More than once she’d heard him say “I love you” to his wife and daughters. After supper each night, he told the little girls a story. Tonight’s was about the walls of Jericho tumbling down, complete with horn blasts, sending the little ones into fits of laughter.

  Most surprising, he hadn’t once yelled at anyone. And a couple of times she’d caught Mr. Steward and Deborah exchanging glances like the newlyweds in church. Married for at least sixteen years, and they still liked each other. More than liked—adored. Yet they owned nothing beyond the tiny farm that barely met their needs. The cabin was crowded and food was scarce. One advantage to a tiny home was it took almost no time at all to clean, and dust never had a chance to settle.