A Daughter's Inheritance

by Judith Miller

  “Praise God!” one of the attendees called out from his boat. Jubilation followed from all quarters, and soon one of the men burst forth in a chorus of praise.

  The preacher waved toward the DaisyBee. “Would one of you like to say a few words?”

  Folks were straining in the direction of the Broadmoor launch. Quincy was suffering from a stomach ailment and hadn’t accompanied the family to the vesper service. The responsibility to acknowledge God’s blessing would fall to Jonas. He stood and cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’re all pleased to say that little Evan is doing just fine, and we’re glad to have him right here with us.” He motioned to Louisa to hold the boy in the air.

  “Hallelujah!”

  “Praise God!”

  “You did a fine thing, Michael.”

  The shouts surrounded Jonas, and he dropped into his seat and shook his head. “Right. Praise God,” he muttered. “I had the pleasure of paying the ten-dollar reward.”

  12

  Thursday, July 15, 1897

  Sophie spotted her cousins sitting beneath a distant stand of trees that shaded the water’s edge. Without thought to proper etiquette, she hurtled down the sloping hill at breakneck speed. Had Amanda remained in place, Sophie would have plowed her over. Sophie stretched out her arms and headed for one of the large fir trees to break her run. A whoosh of air escaped her lungs as she collided with the ancient conifer.

  Fanny jumped to her feet and hurried to her cousin’s side. “Are you injured, Sophie?”

  She grunted and rubbed her arms. “That didn’t go quite as I had intended.” She examined the bloody scratches that lined her hands and sat down.

  Amanda returned to her previous spot on the blanket and dropped down between the other two girls. “Whatever were you thinking, Sophie? Or were you? Don’t you realize you could have seriously injured one of us or yourself? Sometimes I think you give little thought to your behavior! You’re no longer five years old, you know.”

  Sophie wrinkled her nose and deftly extricated a piece of tree bark from her flowing tresses. “I may not be five, but I’m not an old woman, either, Amanda. If I want to have fun, I will. And why did the two of you leave me when you knew I planned to join you?”

  Amanda stiffened. “Are you implying that I act like an old woman?”

  “Most of the time you act older than your own mother. You’re so intent upon acting proper that you’re afraid ever to have fun. I know you want to please everyone, Amanda, but you need to please yourself on occasion, too.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me how to behave, Sophie. At least I don’t embarrass the family by making a spectacle of myself.”

  Before Sophie could offer a rejoinder, Fanny clapped her hands together. “Please don’t argue. We’re supposed to be enjoying our time together.” She examined Sophie’s hands and then pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “You were having a private conversation with Paul, and we didn’t want to interrupt. That is the only reason we came ahead without you.”

  “I wish you would have interrupted. Paul Medford has become an albatross around my neck. He seems to view me as a part of his assigned duties.”

  “How so?” Fanny poured a trickle of water from the jug they’d carried from the house and wet her handkerchief. Thankfully they’d not chosen lemonade to accompany their picnic lunch. She daubed Sophie’s hand with the damp hankie.

  Sophie took the cloth from Fanny and began wiping dirt from her arms. “He said he came to the island in order to bring Father some reports regarding his charity shelter, but I know that’s not true. My father is planning to return to Rochester later in the week, and I’m certain the paper work could have waited until his return.”

  “What has any of that to do with your belief that you’ve become an assignment of sorts?”

  “If you’d just wait a minute, I’m getting to that part.” Sophie frowned at Amanda. “Paul whispered that he needed to speak to me alone about a matter of importance. I joined him outside.” She glanced at Fanny. “That’s when you two saw me with him. He told me that he had heard some unsettling gossip about me from several sources in Rochester.”

  Amanda arched her brows. “Unsettling in what way?”

  “That my behavior is occasionally viewed as inappropriate for someone of my social standing.” She giggled. “As though I have any social standing.”

  “You do have social standing, Sophie. You are a Broadmoor. Your behavior reflects on the entire family.” Amanda retrieved a glass from the picnic basket and picked up the water jug. “You act with wild abandon, and the whole family must suffer the consequences. Exactly what has he heard about you?”

  Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask him to go into detail, for I truly don’t care.” She handed Fanny the handkerchief. “Unlike you, Amanda, I don’t live my life to please others.”

  “Perhaps you should give it a try. Paul is obviously attempting to help.”

  “Help? He thinks I’m immature and take dangerous risks. He’s the one who needs help. The man is twenty-five years old, yet he talks and acts like an old man. As I said the first time he visited the island, he’d make a perfect match for you, Amanda. You both think there’s nothing more important than charity work and meeting the expectations of others.” Sophie winked at Fanny. “And you’re both averse to having fun.”

  “I am not averse to having fun. It’s simply a matter of defining fun. You and I have completely different views.”

  “That’s at least one thing we can agree upon, Amanda.” Sophie reached into the basket and removed the tablecloth and napkins. “Are we going to eat our picnic lunch?”

  Fanny shook her head. “Why don’t we see if Michael will take us to Boar Head Island on the launch? We can eat there and then explore. Besides, we’ll be all alone, and that makes it even better. No one will be able to bother us.”

  “I’m not so fond of being alone, although I’d like to get off of this island. I’d like it better if we’d go to Round Island. We could visit at the New Frontenac Hotel there. There are certain to be more guests arriving by the day.”

  Amanda gave Sophie a sidelong glance. “If you dislike socializing with prominent families, I don’t know why you’d want to visit Round Island or the Frontenac.”

  Sophie locked her arms across her chest. No matter what she suggested, Amanda would find fault. “I’ll defer to Fanny, and we’ll have our picnic on Boar Head Island. I can visit the Frontenac this evening. I plan to attend the dance even if the two of you decide to remain at home.”

  They gathered their blanket and basket and sauntered toward the boathouse. Amanda circled around Fanny and came alongside Sophie. “I’d like to know exactly what rumors are circulating in Rochester, Sophie. How can we dispel such talk if we don’t know what’s being said?”

  “I told Paul I didn’t want to hear any of the small-minded tittle-tattle and walked off before he could tell me. I’m certain it has to do with the Independence Day celebration over at Brown Square.” She giggled. “I believe I may have been a bit tipsy by the time the evening ended. I was singing with the German musicians. I didn’t know the words, but I made up my own. You two should have come along. We had great fun.”

  Amanda gasped. “I love you dearly, Sophie, but I do wish you’d find some other method to gain your father’s attention. In the end, you’re hurting yourself more than Uncle Quincy.”

  They neared the boathouse, and Sophie decided she’d carry the conversation no further. Arguing with Amanda always proved useless. Her cousin would never change her idealistic attitudes, and Sophie didn’t plan to change, either—not for Amanda, not for Paul, and certainly not for the sake of the beloved Broadmoor name! She and Amanda stood inside the doorway of the boathouse while Fanny talked to Michael. Strange how animated Fanny became while visiting with him—her smile widened, her eyes sparkled, and her laughter rippled with a delightful lilt that Sophie had never before heard in her younger cousin’s voice.

  Fa
nny beamed and waved her cousins forward. “Michael says he’s willing to take us over to the island, and he’ll come back and pick us up at four o’clock. Does that suit?”

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Nearly four hours is a long time, don’t you think?”

  “Boar Head is a large island,” Michael said. “You’ll find plenty to keep you occupied. If you want to take some fishing poles along, there’s a great ledge where you’ll be able to sit and fish.” He curled his fingers into a fist and pointed his thumb at Fanny. “Your cousin can bait your hooks, and if you catch a fish, she’ll be able to help you out with that, too. Fanny’s an expert when it comes to fishing.”

  Sophie saw the way Michael looked at Fanny. Were these two interested in each other? She glanced at Amanda and wondered if her cousin noticed the attraction, but she appeared oblivious.

  “I thought I heard voices down here.” Theresa O’Malley entered through the side door, glanced around, and immediately flashed a pouting smile at Michael. “Are you all going on a picnic?”

  Michael shook his head. “I’m merely providing boat service for these ladies. I won’t be gone long. If anyone is looking for me, you can tell them I’ve gone to Boar Head Island.”

  Theresa tucked her hand beneath his arm. “Oh, may I ride along with you? I’ve completed my chores, and Mother said I didn’t need to return to the house for an hour.”

  Sophie didn’t fail to note the way Theresa gazed into Michael’s eyes—and that demure smile. Theresa had set her cap for him!

  “I promise I’ll be good company on the return trip,” Theresa cooed.

  “I don’t know,” Michael mumbled.

  Sophie felt pity for the girl. Like Sophie, Theresa was obviously bored to tears on this island. “Oh, do let her ride along, Michael. What difference does it make?”

  But one look at Fanny told her that it did make a difference. Fanny’s earlier sparkle had been replaced by a brooding stare. So there was something between these two. Fanny was jealous of Theresa. And from the possessive hold Theresa maintained on Michael’s arm, Theresa was jealous of Fanny. Little Fanny was hiding a secret. Uncle Jonas and Aunt Victoria would not approve! This picnic might turn out to be more interesting than she’d anticipated.

  Fanny’s eyes met Michael’s as he helped her into the boat. She read the apologetic look—at least that’s what she wanted to believe. Having Theresa accompany them wasn’t his fault. After Sophie’s comment, what else could he do? Of course he could have discouraged her from remaining so close to his side throughout the excursion. Fanny peeked from beneath the brim of her straw hat and watched Theresa talking to him. He seemed engrossed in what she was saying. Fanny looked away when Theresa placed a possessive hold on Michael’s arm. Perhaps he enjoyed her company. A picture of Michael carrying Theresa out of the woods on the day of her arrival paraded through Fanny’s mind, and she turned away. And he’d been unusually distant since Sunday, when they’d gone to vespers. In fact, he’d avoided her on several occasions since then. She could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. She’d be unable to explain if someone should notice.

  Theresa continued to cling to Michael’s arm. By the time they arrived at the island, Fanny was pleased to disembark. Having Theresa along had diminished her pleasure. The three of them waited while Michael unloaded their belongings.

  He touched Fanny’s sleeve as he handed her the fishing poles. “I’ll return at four o’clock.” He set a can of worms on a rock near her feet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before returning to the launch.

  Fanny remained near the shoreline and watched as the boat churned through the murky water before picking up speed. Theresa’s enthusiastic waves continued until they were nearly out of sight.

  “I think she’s quite taken with Michael, don’t you?” Sophie leaned forward and picked up the can of worms.

  “It would appear that way.” Fanny swallowed hard and pushed back the lump in her throat.

  “But I don’t think she loves him as much as you do.”

  Fanny twisted around to face Sophie. She rubbed her fingers along the nape of her neck in an attempt to relieve the dull ache that was working its way up her skull and toward her temples. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Michael and I are friends. You know we’ve spent many hours together since we were young children. I believe you’re permitting your fanciful imagination to run wild.”

  Amanda giggled. “How could you even say such a thing, Sophie? When Fanny is interested in a young man, she’ll be looking for someone of her own social class. Not that Michael isn’t a fine man,” she quickly added. “But someone of his class could hardly ask my father for Fanny’s hand.”

  Though Fanny did not dare object to Amanda’s remarks, she wanted to tell her cousin she was guilty of snobbery in the extreme. Amanda had pledged to spend her future helping the less fortunate, yet she possessed her father’s view regarding class and status. Did she not understand her attitude would spill over to those whom she attempted to serve in the future? Her cousins were at opposing ends of the spectrum. Sophie wanted the world to know she had no use for class or society, although she enjoyed the pleasures wealth could buy. On the other hand, Amanda thought social status of import. She viewed the family social status as a way of opening doors to aid charitable causes.

  Strange that she could clearly articulate her cousins’ beliefs, but when it came to her own convictions, Fanny experienced difficulty. Perhaps because she disliked confrontation, she had never clearly decided what she believed. Fearful of being ridiculed or appearing foolish, she typically kept her thoughts to herself. Only when she talked to Michael did she feel she could freely express herself. From all appearances, Theresa felt entirely comfortable in his presence, also.

  Sophie wiggled the can of worms beneath Fanny’s nose. “Are we going to fish or explore the island? This is your outing of choice, so you lead the way.”

  “Let’s spread our blanket. We can decide after we’ve eaten lunch.” Without waiting for her cousins’ consent, Fanny flipped the blanket into the air and spread it on a well-shaded spot not far from the water’s edge.

  While Amanda and Fanny unpacked the basket, Sophie reclined on the blanket and eyed each selection. “You could have requested something other than sandwiches, Fanny. Rather boring fare, don’t you think?”

  “I did the best I could. Mrs. O’Malley and Mrs. Atwell were busy planning the week’s menus. I didn’t want to interfere, so I prepared our lunch on my own.”

  “Do tell! Aren’t you becoming quite the domesticated young woman! No need for servants to do your bidding? I believe you would fit into Michael Atwell’s life without much difficulty.” Sophie removed several grapes from a large cluster and tossed one into her mouth.

  “Make yourself useful and pour our drinks, Sophie.” Amanda flashed a sour look across the blanket.

  “Oh, all right, but I do wish you’d quit your bossing, Amanda. It’s very unbecoming, you know.” Sophie placed her hands on the ground and pushed herself up. “Ouch! What was that?” She examined her palm. “Now, look. What with my earlier scratches and now this cut, I’m truly injured. Where’s your handkerchief, Fanny?”

  While Sophie blotted the cut with the handkerchief, Fanny lifted the corner of the blanket and brushed her fingers over the ground. There! Something sharp protruded through the grass. Probably just a rock, but she yanked the grass and weeds surrounding the object. “Hand me one of those spoons, Amanda.”

  “You’re going to dig in the dirt with the good silver?”

  “Forevermore, Amanda, just give me the spoon. It isn’t the good silver—I promise.” Fanny grabbed the utensil from her cousin’s hand; soon she’d excavated the sharp object. After removing the traces of dirt with one of the napkins, she extended her palm. “Look.”

  Sophie shrugged. “A flat piece of rock. So what?”

  “No. It’s an Iroquois arrowhead,” she said with an air of authority.

  “How woul
d you know? I agree with Sophie. It looks like a pointed flat stone.”

  “No.” Fanny shook her head. “Michael had several in his pocket, and he showed them to me. He’s been collecting them since he was a little boy. He has some that he has discovered are Iroquois and a few that are Mississauga. Both tribes inhabited the islands years ago.” While her cousins helped themselves to the chicken sandwiches, Fanny used her napkin to continue polishing the arrowhead. “This is ever so exciting. I wonder if we can find some others.”

  Amanda glanced heavenward. “Please, Fanny. Let’s not make this some archaeological expedition. You’re not another Sir Austen Henry Layard.”

  “Who’s that?” Sophie asked before taking another bite of her sandwich.

  “He’s the famous archaeologist that grandfather met in England a long time ago. He died a few years past. Surely you remember. He discovered the remains of the Assyrian regal monuments and cuneiform inscriptions and concluded they were the visible remains of Nineveh. He wrote a book about his second expedition. Grandfather told us about it several times.”

  “Isn’t Nineveh in the Bible or something?”

  “Yes, it’s in the Bible, but this is—oh, never mind.” Amanda tossed a grape seed toward the water. “You’re not even listening.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to discover some ancient ruin?”

  Fanny tucked the arrowhead into the pocket of her dress.

  Sophie sighed and leaned against the trunk of an ancient white spruce. “It would be more exciting to discover some nice fellows. I’m bored. I haven’t met even one new man who strikes my fancy. I’m ready to go home.”

  “Well, that’s not going to occur. We’re here for the duration of the summer, so you might as well decide to enjoy yourself.” Amanda repacked the picnic basket and closed the lid with a decisive thump. “Are we fishing or exploring, Fanny?”

  “We’ll explore first, and then we’ll fish. That way we’ll see Michael when he returns.”