White River Brides

by Frances Devine

Satisfaction ran through Tuck. Perhaps the doctor truly did admire her. “Yes, I can do that. Actually we may be filling in as entertainment for the tours at Marble Cave for a while.”

  “Is that a fact? You be sure and let me know, so that I can be there.” He squeezed her elbow, but amusement sparkled in his eyes as he gazed down into hers.

  Was he making fun of her?

  But the next moment his eyes darkened and his glance moved to her lips.

  She trembled. What was wrong with her? She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Are you very fond of music?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Oh yes, I’ve been to many concerts in New York and have attended many of the finest concert halls in Europe.”

  “Oh, I see.” No wonder he’d appeared amused about her fiddle.

  A grove of oak trees, branches almost bare, stood near the mill. The mill owner’s wife and two children stood on the bank of the creek watching the mules turn the water wheel.

  “The wheel is splashing water pretty badly.” Sam said. “Perhaps we should continue our walk in the grove so that you don’t get wet.”

  Too late. The heavy tug of Tuck’s skirts reminded her she’d forgotten to lift them. They dragged the ground, heavy with water. Besides, the thought of water droplets splattering on her skin was welcome at the moment. What was wrong with her? Had a sudden illness assaulted her?

  As Sam turned Tuck toward the grove, the world began to spin around her and she felt herself falling. Arms caught and lifted her, and then she was floating in darkness.

  Tuck awakened to a tugging at the back of her dress and blessed relief as her clothing loosened. Strong hands rolled her over onto her back.

  She gasped, and air rushed into her lungs. What? A memory surfaced. She’d been walking with the doc and must have fainted. Surely he hadn’t loosened her clothing.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up. A wave of nausea washed through her.

  The mill owner’s wife ran a damp cloth over her forehead. “Now, now, Miss Sullivan. You’d best lie back down on the cot just for a bit. That ridiculous corset was cutting your air off. You’ll be fine in a moment.”

  “Where am I?” She glanced around at the unfamiliar room.

  “The mill office. Dr. Fields brought you here, and I could see right away what the problem was.” A puzzled look crossed her face. “You’d think a doctor would have thought of that.”

  Gratitude washed over Tuck as the kind, round-cheeked woman patted her. “Thank you, ma’am. I was getting dizzy and weak, but I didn’t realize it was the corset.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve never worn one before.” She smiled.

  “No, ma’am. And I won’t ever again either.” And she’d thought the strange sensations had something to do with love.

  “I’d think your sister would know better.” The woman prattled on. “She seems very fashion smart to me.”

  “It’s not Addy’s fault. I kept telling her to tighten it more.” As she confessed, she felt foolish at the memory and changed the subject. “Is the doctor still here?”

  “No, he left you in my care, dear. You needed a woman’s help anyway.” A knowing smile appeared on her face. “Right?”

  “Yes, of course,” Tuck said. “And I do appreciate everything you did for me. You may have even saved my life.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it would have come to that, especially when you had a doctor right there with you, but you never know.” She shook her head. “Dr. Fields said to tell you he was sorry to leave you, but he had a medical emergency.”

  “What was the emergency?” Tuck forced herself to fight off the resentment that assailed her.

  “I don’t know, dear. That’s all he said. But it must have been serious. He was in a mighty big hurry to leave.” She reached her arm behind Tuck. “Let’s sit you up now and see how you feel.”

  Tuck complied and swung her legs from the cot. “I’m fine now. I appreciate all your help. If you could help me get laced back up, I’d best be getting home before it gets dark.”

  After thanking the woman again and assuring her that she needed no help walking the short distance to her wagon, Tuck left.

  She’d just reached her wagon when she heard her name called. Turning, she watched Mr. Willie limp toward her. It seemed to her that his limp was worse. But then, he must be getting pretty old. The thought bothered her, and she shoved it aside and grinned. “Hey, Mr. Willie. Hadn’t you best be heading home before dark?”

  “Don’t worry about me, miss. How about yourself?” He frowned then smiled, glancing at her dress but not saying a word about it.

  “You’re right. You want to ride along with me for a while?”

  “It’d be my pleasure, Tuck. Got some good news for you.” He loosened the reins of his grizzled horse and lifted himself slowly into the saddle.

  “I could use some good news.” Tuck climbed into the wagon and flicked the reins, heading out of town with Mr. Willie riding along beside her.

  “Mr. Lynch sent word we’ve got the job. But he wants a list of the songs we’re planning so he can approve them.” He shook his head. “Can you believe that?”

  Tuck laughed. “Yes, I can. You can’t really blame him, Mr. Willie. You and Squeezebox come up with some wild ones sometimes. Remember ‘Way Down Upon the Bloody River?’ He wants us to entertain the tourists, not scare them to death.”

  The old man cackled. “Aw, that was just us a funnin’. I see what you mean though. I guess maybe we’d better get together and make him a list, then practice a couple of hours. When can you meet us?”

  “I’ll be in front of the feed store tomorrow at ten o’clock. That okay?”

  “That’s fine with me. I’ll tell the others. We’ll be there.”

  The sun was low in the west as Tuck waved good-bye to Mr. Willie as she turned off the river road and he continued downriver.

  Tuck’s thoughts were a jumble. She tried to focus on the numbers they should do for the entertainment. She’d been waiting a long time for a chance like this, but her thoughts kept jumping to Sam Fields.

  He was a puzzle to say the least. One day he ignored her, the next he laughed at her, then again he treated her as though she were precious to him. Perhaps it was the new attire. If so, she was glad he liked her more ladylike appearance. She’d keep the hair and the ruffles, but the S-bend had to go.

  “Abigail! What in the world have you done to your skirt?” Addy stared, mouth agape at the sodden fabric lying in a pile on the bedroom floor.

  “The question is what did this stupid corset do to me?” Tuck retorted. “It nearly killed me. That’s what.”

  “What do you mean?” Addy’s eyes widened at her words.

  Tuck proceeded to relate the happenings at the mill, embellishing the story as she went along. “I’ll tell you this much. I’m not wearing it again.” She nodded, shortly.

  “Oh dear. I don’t blame you. I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t realize what torture it would be. But that doesn’t explain your skirts. Did you forget to hold them up again?”

  Tuck chewed on her bottom lip while she thought. “Yes, I did forget. But I’ve come up with a solution.”

  “What’s that?” Addy looked almost fearful as she waited.

  Tuck hid a grin. “I’m thinking about making me some of those split skirts they wear riding.”

  “All right. They’re fine. Better than those awful overalls. But what does that have to do with your skirts dragging the ground when you walk?”

  “You misunderstand, dear sister. I plan to wear the split skirt all the time. They only come to the ankle, so I won’t need to worry about them dragging the ground, will I?”

  Tuck grinned as Addy’s eyes widened in horror at the thought. “Oh, but Abigail. You can’t wear a riding skirt on the street. Or anywhere. They’re just for riding. It wouldn’t be ladylike to…”

  Tuck burst out laughing, bending at the waist and slapping her hands against her bare knee.

  “Fine. Go ahead and
make fun of me.” Addy frowned then smiled. “All right. I did fall for that one, didn’t I?”

  “Sorry, sis. I couldn’t resist it.” Tuck wiped her eyes then pulled on a clean pair of overalls. She still wasn’t ready to give them up at home.

  “But you will wear dresses and style your hair?” Addy coaxed.

  “Yes, if you’ll help me. You know I can’t fix my hair right.” The last time she’d attempted to, it stuck out all over and finally came tumbling down.

  “You’ll get used to it. But of course I’ll help.” Addy smiled.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. We got the job at the cave. Start in two weeks.” She couldn’t prevent the pride that filled her voice.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, Abby. I’m so happy for you and your friends.” Addy clapped her hands and her face beamed. “We’ll need to get busy and fix the sleeves on your dresses then.”

  Tuck paused in buttoning her overall straps and peered at her sister. Why was she so nice? No wonder the doc liked her best. But now he liked Tuck, too. He had been a perfect gentleman today. Treated her like a real lady. That is until he left her passed out at the mill. But if he had an emergency, he had to leave, didn’t he? Yes, but did he really have an emergency? Or did he just dump her and leave her?

  “What are you frowning about? I’d think you’d be happy after your walk with Dr. Fields. It sounds like he’s quite interested in you now.”

  “Sure. I think he is. Maybe.” But a niggling bit of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts, robbing her of her joy.

  “Oh, of course he is.” Addy picked up the wet dress from the floor and hung it on a hook. “We’ll need to get this washed tomorrow, so it doesn’t stain.”

  Tuck glanced at her sister. Yes, Rafe had been right. Addy did give in to her and she’d always done everything she could to help Tuck get what she wanted. Why hadn’t she ever realized that before?

  “You don’t have to help wash it, sis. I can do it.” Tuck laid her hand on Addy’s shoulder. “Why do you do so much for me? I hardly do anything for you.”

  “Now don’t be silly. I enjoy doing these little things for you because I love you.” She reached over and kissed Tuck on the cheek. “And of course you do things for me. Now we’d better go and help Ma get supper on the table. She’s the one who really does too much. For both of us.”

  They found Ma Lexie in the kitchen, removing fried chicken from the skillet.

  Tuck took the fork from her, and Addy poured vegetables into the serving bowl.

  “Go sit down in the parlor with Pa,” Addy said.

  “Yes,” said Tuck. “We’ll call you when supper is on the table.”

  As they finished preparing the meal and placed everything on the table, Tuck’s heart ached with sorrow and guilt. I’m sorry, Lord. I wanted so badly to change after my baptism, but I’ve gotten worse. I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll stop being so selfish. I’ll even…

  She paused. She’d almost promised to give Sam up. But surely God wouldn’t want her to do that, would He? After all, hadn’t He brought them together?

  Chapter 7

  Tuck climbed the ladder and peeked out the cave entrance. A crowd had gathered, and Jim stood behind a wooden booth selling tickets.

  Tuck squinted against the sunlight and peered around for Sam. Not spotting him anywhere, she carefully made her way back down the wood rungs and across the vast entry cavern Mr. Lynch had dubbed the Cathedral Room. Probably because his daughter’s baby grand piano stood in splendor near the back of the room. Or maybe because the ceiling was so high.

  She stepped onto the makeshift platform that extended the stage. You couldn’t really tell visually there’d been an addition, but it wasn’t as sturdy as the original. It didn’t need to be. They’d probably tear it down once the sisters took over the entertainment again.

  When Squeezebox had spotted the dainty chairs placed on the stage for their use, he’d snickered. “These don’t look like they’d hold a kitten. Hope I don’t go crashing down.”

  “They’re stronger than they look,” Rafe had assured him, just before he’d left to help Jim with crowd control.

  Anyway, the men would be standing most of the time.

  Tuck perched on the edge of her chair, remembering to drape her skirts around her legs for modesty’s sake. Her sleeves were now fitted instead of puffed. Not as pretty, but much more sensible for playing the violin. Narrow lace adorned the neckline instead of a collar. This was Addy’s idea to prevent Tuck from folding the collar inside the neckline.

  Tuck was becoming used to wearing dresses more often—and frilly ones at that. She’d never cared much about being pretty, but that was before she’d met Sam. He appeared to like her new look and demeanor, although that was mostly put on when he was around.

  He’d escorted her to church the past two Sundays and taken her for drives in his carriage several times. On the last occasion, when they were on the way home, he’d grasped her hand. She’d felt uncomfortable and after a few moments managed to withdraw it from his fingers.

  The men were tuning their instruments, so she bent down and took her fiddle from its case. She ran her bow across the strings and smiled, satisfied with the pure, clear sound.

  Mr. Lynch came down the wooden ladder. “Jim will be bringing the first group down in one minute. You may begin now.”

  As instructed, the three men stood while Tuck remained seated. When the first group entered the room, strains of “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” met the tourists’ ears. Jim guided them around the room for a few minutes, pointing out the natural carvings and other things of interest. Afterwards, he led them through the opening into the next room of the cave.

  Tuck knew from experience they’d soon hear squeals from some of the ladies as they reached the area that led in a more difficult downward path, some of the chambers accessible only by rope ladders. Most of the women would turn around and scuttle back to be entertained by the music while their men continued the tour.

  Rafe stood to one side. He nodded and smiled when he caught her looking at him. He knew how much this opportunity meant to her.

  She glanced toward the stairs, frowning over Sam’s absence. He’d promised to be there. Perhaps he’d show up later, unless another emergency prevented him from coming at all. Her throat tightened. Sometimes she wasn’t quite sure about Sam’s commitment to their friendship. And Rafe’s open animosity toward the doctor bothered her. Rafe was usually a good judge of character. But perhaps he was merely jealous that Tuck had a new friend. And friendship was all it was at this point.

  When the first group returned, Tuck jumped to her feet. They struck up a lively rendition of “Ole Dan Tucker” as the tourists exited up the ladder.

  The next group should be coming in at any moment. Mr. Willie passed around a canteen of cold water, and then they fell into another tune.

  Sam came down the ladder and threw her a wave and a wink before he hurried to stand to one side. Relief coursed through her. There. He did care. She must learn to be more trusting.

  She glanced at Rafe and noticed he had puckered his lips in a silent whistle. She knew that look. She really must speak to him about his attitude.

  Rafe’s stomach coiled when Sam Fields sauntered in like he owned the place. What was it about the man that set his teeth on edge? Partly jealousy, sure. But something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way. Had been that way from the moment he laid eyes on him, even before he knew Tuck had fallen for the doctor.

  It bothered Rafe that Tuck couldn’t see it, too. She was the one who usually spotted a phony at first glance. Maybe the stars in her eyes were blinding her. Or maybe there wasn’t really anything to see. If that was the case, Rafe should probably bow out and leave the situation to run whatever course it was meant to. As long as Tuck was happy and taken care of, he would deal with it.

  After the second group of tourists came down from the sinkhole entrance, Rafe slipped outside. He had to get away before he beat the tar out of
Sam Fields or did something else that would cause a ruckus. He couldn’t ruin Tuck’s big day.

  He took Champ off his tether and mounted. The reins slashed back and forth as Rafe urged the horse to a faster pace.

  He was halfway home before he made a decision and changed his course, heading toward the Sullivan farm. Maybe Jack could help him make some sense of this crazy situation.

  He found Tuck’s pa pitching hay in the barn.

  Jack looked down and waved as Rafe came through the door. “Thought you’d stay and ride home with Tuck.” He gave Rafe a questioning look.

  “Sam Fields is there. I expect she’ll be going somewhere with him.” He climbed up to the loft and grabbed a pitchfork.

  Jack stared at him in silence for a minute. “What do you make of that?”

  “It’s not my place to say,” he muttered. But he sure felt like saying a few things.

  “Since when? You’ve always had your say about anything concerning Tuck.” Jack tossed a forkful of hay into the corner. “I haven’t seen much of the man, so I’d really be beholden if you’d give me your opinion.”

  Rafe hesitated. But he’d planned on talking to Jack anyway, so he might as well just blurt it all out. “I don’t like him. I’m not for sure just why. But something’s not right. Maybe he’s hiding something. Or maybe I’m imagining it, and I just don’t like him because Tuck does.” He paused. “I don’t trust him not to hurt her.”

  Jack pursed his lips and nodded. “Appreciate your honesty. I’ll keep an eye on him. If I see any sign you’re right, I’ll send the man packing.”

  “I don’t know, Jack.” Rafe shook his head. “You know how stubborn Tuck can be. If you ran him off, she’d likely take off after him.”

  “Maybe. But I hope she’s a little more levelheaded than that.” He arched his eyebrows. “What are you planning?”

  Rafe shook his head. “How do you always read my thoughts?”

  “If I could read your thoughts, I wouldn’t need to ask what you’re planning.” Jack grinned. “But I can tell by that look in your eyes you’ve got something on your mind.”