by Hale Deborah
Caddie hated the unseasonable gales. Doors blowing open, startling her half to death. A hundred drafts whistling in the boarded and broken windows of Sabbath Hollow. Not to mention the havoc wreaked on her clothesline.
Sheets knotted around the long rope. Undergarments blasted off, sprawling on the grass in lewd positions. Stray twigs and pine needles besmirching the laundry she’d labored so hard to wash clean. Lately Caddie felt like a sheet on the clothesline of life, blown and twisted by fickle, powerful winds.
Some days her spirits soared higher than the children’s kites. After her years in Richmond, struggling to care for Tem and Varina on her own, it was such a blessed relief to have help feeding, clothing and loving them. With that wearying weight lifted from her shoulders, her whole disposition felt buoyed, until she found herself smiling and laughing for no reason at all.
Except that it felt so damnably good to be alive again.
She had a new dress for the first time in years, and for the first time in years she found herself taking an interest in her appearance. Just the other night, when she had caught Manning in a rare appreciative glance, her heart had wafted up to a dizzying height. Though she’d steeled herself against it, she couldn’t help admiring the man, even liking him a little.
He was so solicitous of her and the children. He helped out with the house chores, took a firm but fond hand with Tem and Varina, and never failed to return from town with some small luxury for them. He seemed to draw nourishment from the simple labors of family life, absorbing them almost greedily.
Then some searing reminder of the war and its aftermath would dash Caddie painfully to earth again. She’d recollect that Manning Forbes was a Yankee, a member of the race she’d sworn to condemn with her last breath. No matter how hard he tried to ingratiate himself with her family, the fact remained that he had come south with the sole purpose of making his fortune. When he had done that, there was every danger he might leave—inflicting a loss on Tem and Varina more memorable and personal than the death of a father neither of them could recall.
Like a mercurial weathervane, Caddie’s manner toward her husband shifted as it was blown first by a warm zephyr, then by a frigid Arctic blast. Not that he seemed to notice or care most of the time. Manning’s transparent affection for the children contrasted sharply with his often gruff indifference to her.
Though she tried to convince herself it was just the way she wanted him to behave, in her secret soul it rankled. Clearly, she must lack the power to captivate a man. Hadn’t Del’s indiscretion with Lydene convinced her of that?
Bang! Caddie jumped at the sound of the front door blowing open yet again.
“Mama!’’ Varina hollered at the top of her lungs from the entry. “A lady’s come calling to see you!”
Caddie’s stomach twisted up tight. This was the first time any of the neighbors had paid a visit to Sabbath Hollow. Had they decided to quit shunning her at last?
Hiking up her skirts, she raced to the top of the stairs, then gulped a deep breath before gliding down the steps with no trace of ill-bred haste. She smiled at the sight of Dora Gordon. The girl wore a look of furtive guilt, as though she’d just crossed the threshold of a house of ill repute.
“Varina, dear.” Caddie gave her daughter the look. “When you announce a caller, you’re supposed to come find Mama and tell her in a nice quiet voice.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Varina swiped a stray rusty-red curl out of her eyes. Her tone proclaimed that such niceties were a waste of valuable time, but she had better things to do than argue the point “I have to go get my kite out of the maple tree.”
“Be careful, now. Tem can—”
The front door slammed shut behind the child. This time Caddie knew better than to blame the wind.
She gave an exasperated shake of her head, then held out her hands to Dora. “It’s good to see you again, dear. I hope your mother hasn’t taken a turn for the worse.”
“No, Mrs. Forbes, ma’am.” The girl spoke Caddie’s married name in the hushed tone usually reserved for blasphemy. “Ma seems to be rallying. I reckon Doc Mercer was right about needing to rile her up. The food you’ve brought has helped, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Caddie wondered if she might also be the cause of Mrs. Gordon’s agitation. “I’d invite you into the parlor, but we haven’t a decent stick of furniture in it. Would you mind taking a cup of tea with me in the kitchen?”
“Real tea?” whispered Dora.
“Isn’t it a treat?” Caddie led her guest to the back of the house. “My, er, husband brought some back the last time he went into town.”
The girl murmured a reply that Caddie didn’t quite catch.
“I beg your pardon, dear? I must be getting old, though I feel years younger since we’ve come back to Sabbath Hollow.”
Dora giggled. “I didn’t mean to say anything, ma’am. It just popped about.” She seemed to weigh Caddie’s ability to take a joke. “I wondered if Mr. Forbes might have a younger brother who was looking for a wife.”
“I guarantee that would rile your ma into robust health.” Caddie counterfeited a laugh so Dora would not think her offended.
In fact, the innocent jest stung her pride like a burr. Was that what the neighbors thought of her marriage? That she’d latched on to a Yankee carpetbagger who could lavish her with all the luxuries she’d missed during the war? Couldn’t they see it had been a matter of survival for her and her children?
Had it? queried Caddie’s conscience as she brewed the tea and made polite conversation with Dora. She and the children could have moved in with Lon and Lydene, extending their stay indefinitely. They could have gone home to her brother Gideon in South Carolina. Marrying Manning Forbes had simply been the least humiliating option available to her.
She’d put her own sinful pride before Southern loyalty.
As she poured the dark, steaming tea into Dora’s cup, Caddie tried to scour her mind of that damning conclusion. Like a stubborn stain, it would not go away.
“Have you thought about coming to work at Sabbath Hollow?” She forced herself to concentrate on trying to hire Dora. Anything to distract her thoughts. “Don’t be daunted by the size of the house. I wouldn’t expect you to keep it up to the standards we were once used to. In fact, there are several of the rooms we’ve closed for a while. I don’t plan to sit back and play the lady of leisure, either.”
Dora closed her eyes and breathed in the aromatic steam rising from her cup. Perhaps the smell fortified her resolve, for she replied, “I’ve given it plenty of thought, Mrs. Forbes. I’d like to come work here provided I don’t have to live in. I promise I’ll be here good and early every morning to start the fires. It’s no distance from our place to yours if I cut through our back pasture.”
“Very well.” Caddie let her held breath ease out “You’re hired. I plan to take care of upstairs myself, if you’ll see to the downstairs and kitchen chores.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else poking around the bedrooms, discovering the family’s sleeping arrangements.
They talked about hours and wages. Finally Dora savored her last mouthful of tea. “If it’s all right with you, ma’am, I’ll start first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” She would, too, Caddie realized.
It had been such a long time since she’d had another woman around to talk to over a cup of tea, midmorning or before starting supper. With less of her time occupied by mundane chores, perhaps her mind wouldn’t so easily fall prey to futile regrets and even more futile fantasies.
A thick ledger book in his hands, Manning waited at the foot of the stairs as Caddie came down after putting the children to bed. “I’d like to ask a favor of you, ma’am.”
“Favor?” Caddie stared at the book.
“Now that you’ve got the Gordon girl to keep house, I wondered if you could lend me a hand with the business. Seeing as we’re supposed to be partners and all.”
She glanced back up again. Her eyes sparkled with interest, but her puckered brow looked guarded. “You know I’ll be glad to help out if I can. What is it you need me to do?”
Manning’s Adam’s apple bobbed wildly in his throat. He’d been trying so hard to keep both physical and emotional distance from Caddie. But the further he pulled away, the tighter some invisible cord between them stretched, until he feared it would wrench him off his feet and propel him forcefully into her arms.
“I need somebody to keep the books, and I think you’d be good at it.” He gestured to indicate the entry hall, unfurnished but immaculate. “You’re so methodical. Even before Miss Gordon came, you always kept the house neat as a pin. Everything in the kitchen has its place. I marveled at how you packed so much onto that old buckboard for your trip from Richmond.”
Caddie looked flustered, but a trifle flattered, too. For a wild moment Manning mistook her for eighteen instead of twenty-eight.
“You’re very observant, sir. Not everyone considers my craving for order a virtue, I’m afraid” She pulled a droll face. “My daughter, for instance.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Nor could he stop himself from meeting her gaze. “Well, I do.”
The laughter froze in Manning’s throat, yet he had to clamp his lips tight to imprison a torrent of words that threatened to gush out of him. He longed to tell Caddie of all her other special qualities he’d noticed. Some he’d sensed from the beginning, like her strength of will and her devotion to her children. Others, like her concern for anyone in trouble and her appreciation of the smallest kindness, had taken him by surprise as he’d come to know her better.
Caddie’s gaze faltered before his, falling once again to the ledger in his hands. “I—I’ve never kept accounts before, other than the household money. What if I made a mistake?”
His face suddenly felt cold, as if all the blood had leached out of it. “Everybody makes mistakes, Caddie.”
He certainly had. Was he making a big one right now? Putting forward a plan that would force the two of them into more frequent contact. Standing so close to her without the distracting presence of Tem and Varina. Close enough that he might reach out and graze her hair with his fingertips, if his shaky self-control slipped for an instant.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late to correct his mistake. “If you’d rather not—”
At the very moment he pulled the ledger up to shield his chest, Caddie raised her hand to rest on the book’s green cover. Its movement towed her a step closer to Manning and brought her fingertips to rest against the base of his neck. The lightest of touches, yet it threatened to cut off his air.
Caddie wrenched her hand away and took a step backward. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I only meant... I’d need your... help.” She made it sound like a shameful admission.
“It... isn’t so difficult.” A good deal easier than catching his breath. “You just keep track of the money coming in on one side of the ledger and the money going out on the other side. Whatever’s left over at the end of each month is our profit.”
“I reckon I could manage that.” One corner of Caddie’s mouth curved upward, coaxing just the hint of a dimple where her face had begun to fill out.
Manning caught himself inhaling deeply, to draw as much of her scent into his lungs as they would hold. It reminded him of the fresh sweet aroma of an orchard after a spring rain.
His hands clamped down on the ledger to keep them from trembling. More desperately than he’d fought at Gettysburg, Manning battled his urge to drop the book and seize his wife instead. Feasting on her lips and glutting his nostrils on her fragrance, he might find the nourishment he craved.
But at what cost?
“I—I’d like you to pay out the wages at the end of each week, as well.” Manning’s voice rasped in his ears as he struggled to keep it steady. He thrust the heavy book at Caddie, then jammed his hands into his pockets to keep them from reaching for her. “I know a lot of the folks on our payroll would rather not work for a Yankee if they had any choice. If you give them their wages instead of me, it mightn’t bother them so much.”
He turned and headed for the door. The Stevens boy had put the old lathe to use, turning a few decorative balusters to match the broken ones that marred the elegance of Sabbath Hollow’s front porch. Might as well get started replacing them while he still had a bit of daylight. More importantly, he wanted to get away from Caddie before he did something foolish.
Hardly aware that he was speaking aloud, he muttered, “Besides, if you keep the accounts you won’t need to worry that I’m cheating you.”
He pulled the door shut behind him and proceeded to attack the broken posts with a crowbar. The strenuous chore gave him a safe outlet for his overwrought emotions. As he repaired the broken railings, Manning struggled to shore up the rickety barricade he’d raised around his heart to keep Caddie out.
Every day, without half trying, she tore fresh holes in it. Heaven help him if she should ever decide to lay siege in earnest.
Chapter Nine
“DORA, CAN YOU keep an eye on the children while I take the payroll up to the mill?”
As Caddie tied her bonnet strings, she resisted an urge to glance in the cheap little decorative mirror Manning had recently purchased. Folks would be too busy counting their modest earnings to care what she looked like.
Don’t go lying to yourself, Caddie. It isn’t the workers you’re gussying up for—it’s their boss. She peeked in the mirror, after all. Just long enough to stick her tongue out at herself... and to twist a loose strand of hair around her finger until it curled.
Varina barreled into the entry hall. “I want to go.”
Gazing at the child, Caddie stifled a sigh. “You most certainly cannot. I’ll be busy giving folks their wages and I won’t be able to keep an eye on you. Heaven knows what scrapes you’d get into among all the machinery and sharp tools.”
“Manning wouldn’t let me get hurt.”
For a foolish instant, Caddie wished she could make that boast. Hard as she tried not to care, she found herself elated by his smallest attention and stung by his persistent coolness.
“Manning will be busy working. He won’t be able to spare the time to keep you out of harm’s way.”
Whether or not he could spare the time, Caddie knew he’d cheerfully watch Varina if she decided to bring the child.
“But, Mama...”
“Varina Virginia Marsh, I said no and that’s my final word.”
The little girl heaved a martyred sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”
In the face of her daughter’s disappointment, Caddie relented a little. “If you go clean yourself up, perhaps you could help Dora make doughnuts.”
“I s’pose.” Varina cast a critical look over her hands, as if trying to figure how little washing they could get away with. “That’s still not as much fun as going to the mill.”
Caddie pulled on her gloves, then retrieved her ledger and cash box from the stairs where she’d set them. “I’ll speak to Manning about it. Perhaps you and Tem can come with me next week.”
“Bet he’ll say yes.” Varina hopped from foot to foot.
“Don’t go counting your chickens before they hatch, now.” Caddie pressed a finger to her daughter’s button nose.
“Will you give Manning something from me?”
Caddie thought of the treasures Varina had brought her stepfather in recent days. Stones with gold in them. Fishing worms of impressive dimensions. “That depends on what it is.”
“This.” Seizing Caddie’s hand, Varina hauled her mother down to plant a moist, noisy kiss on her cheek.
Caddie dismissed the ridiculous rush of heat to her face and the giddy tightness in her stomach. “Why don’t you wait and give it to him yourself at suppertime?”
He would like it a good deal more coming from the child than from her.
Before Varina could reply, Dora called to her from the kitchen and she raced away.
How long had it been since she’d looked around her and found the world beautiful? Caddie wondered. Her feet wanted to break into a skipping, waltzing step unsuited to a sober matron rapidly approaching thirty. A sprightly little tune ran through her mind, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d catch herself humming it.
Recalling how quickly such fragile bubbles of happiness could shatter into jagged shards of pain, she didn’t dare give in to them. Much as she longed to on a day like this. Blast Manning Forbes for setting in motion this civil war between her head and her heart!
Caddie heard and smelled the mill before she saw it. The enormous wooden wheel creaked as it turned, bearing each load of water down to splash free at rhythmic intervals. Together with the rasp of the saw and pounding of hammers, it made a kind of robust music. The resinous tang of freshly sawed lumber smelled like energy and optimism.
Perhaps the folks who worked here found it so, too. When Caddie stepped into the mill clearing she discovered the place bustling with activity. A young woman wearing leather gloves and a thick canvas apron over her dress toted bundles of lathe-turned wood to a nearby shed that Manning had converted into a woodwright’s shop. Two lanky boys carried long boards of cut lumber out of the mill and stacked them to dry.
Bobbie Stevens hobbled from the shop into the mill. A single stout cane had replaced the crutches Caddie had seen him using only a fortnight ago.
Catching sight of her, the young man waved “Afternoon, Miz Caddie. Shall I go tell the boss you’re here?”