by Linda Tillis
“Have a seat, sweetheart, while I get lunch.”
Eleanor found herself blushing. It had been a long time since a man had called her “sweetheart.” She was aware she had missed these spoken endearments. It was nice to feel special again. She was amazed as Garth opened a basket and produced sliced ham, a small block of cheese, a jar of pickles, and two pieces of chocolate cake from its depths.
Garth caught her surprised face and laughed. “Nothing is too good for my girl,” he teased. Eleanor laughed out loud.
In reply, Garth smiled and gave her a long look before saying, “You don’t know how good the sound of your laughter makes me feel, as if I could conquer the world. There has been too little laughter these last few years, but I intend to make up for that.”
They ate in a comfortable silence that allowed them to soak up their surroundings. It was the kind of quiet that seeped into your bones, leaving them feeling at peace with the world.
Eleanor was the first to speak. “Garth, we have a lot of things to talk about.”
“I know, dear.” He smiled. “There are a lot of details to be worked out, but that’s all they are, minor details. The important thing is we have found each other and have many years to be together. Now, tell me, what details are worrying you?”
Eleanor looked up into his eyes as he stroked her hand. “Well, Trenton is a nice little town, but I’m not sure there would be enough business to support Taylor’s. And what would you do in Tallahassee? And how would Samuel and Cyrus feel about all this? Would they be willing to relocate, or would they blame me if they were uprooted?”
Garth heard the tremble in her voice, and guessed it was caused by fear of the unknown. “All right, the first thing to do is stop throwing rocks in the road. We have the rest of our lives to work these things out. We’ll talk with each of our families. We’ll get a feel for what they want and would be happy with. Then you and I will sit down and sort it all out. I will be looking at the wisdom of keeping the sawmill going. I’ll take a look at what I would need if I were to farm in the Tallahassee area. There’s a good market for cattle right now, and that could be very big in the near future. I would like to make you my wife this coming Christmas.”
Garth smiled at the sharp intake of Eleanor’s breath. “Well, you do know that was what I had in mind, right? I mean, you do know that just being here with you now is wonderful, but not enough for me? I want to be with you every day and every night.”
Garth slowly lowered his mouth to Eleanor’s. Her lips parted in anticipation as he stroked her face. “Eleanor, I love you. I want to make you mine forever.”
Garth leaned against the old oak, pulled Eleanor across his lap, and held her soft body against his hard chest. He could feel her quickened heartbeat. They were not imprudent young lovers who could be ruled by lust, but Garth was glad Christmas was only six months away.
****
Two weeks had flown by, and now Mae watched as Samuel loaded Eleanor and Patrick’s bags onto the train. They’d enjoyed wonderful days filled with fishing and swimming, berry picking and pickling. Evenings were filled with games, and laughter, and lightning bugs in jars. Stories were told, and new dreams spoken of with excitement.
Papa stood looking down at Eleanor, loving possession in his eyes. “We’ll write each week. I’ll be in touch with some folks I know up your way. I’ll be doing some checking into the dress shops in Gainesville. You will, of course, be missing me, right?”
Eleanor burst out laughing. “Yes, I will be missing you very much, along with all the other things I have to do.”
Mae turned to give them a bit of privacy, in time to see Patrick throw his arms around Cyrus’s waist. “I’ll miss you too, little buddy.” Cyrus looked up with a sheepish grin. He’d obviously gotten quite used to being a big brother.
Samuel knocked Cyrus’s hat askew as he walked by him. “You’re a pretty good teacher, little brother. Patrick even caught some fish yesterday.”
Jumping from one foot to the other, Patrick chirped, “And I’m gonna catch more at Christmas, too. Mama said I could come visit again, and I’m bringing my marbles this time, and I bet I can beat you both!”
They all laughed at his ear-to-ear grin. He had a few more freckles across his nose that had turned a nice golden brown in the sun, and this pleased Mae. He was much more outgoing and boisterous than he’d been before, just like she remembered Samuel and Cyrus being at his age.
Mae was also happy that they were all comfortable with each other now, like a real family. She was proud of her brothers. Papa had made no secret of his feelings for Eleanor. Mae had seen Samuel smile when Papa held Eleanor’s hand as they strolled through the back yard. Cyrus had blushed like a girl when Eleanor told him he was going to be as handsome as his father.
Yes, Mae imagined all their lives had been improved by her deciding on moving to Tallahassee. She had to remind herself to take no pride in that decision. The Lord had dictated it, and she was happy to accept the blessings of His wisdom.
She hugged Eleanor and Patrick and said, “I’ll see you both in two weeks. Patrick, take good care of your mama.”
He stood very straight and looked solemn as he said, “I will make sure she doesn’t work too hard.”
Garth looked down at that freckled nose, laid a hand on the little shoulder, and said, “I have complete trust in you, son, so take good care of her.”
Patrick straightened his back. “Yes, sir,” he snapped.
Mae took Papa’s hand as the train pulled away. “Papa, are you happy?”
“Mae, girl, you know I loved your mama, and always will, but Eleanor has opened my heart again. I want to make her happy, as well. Can you accept that?” he asked.
“Papa, it will make me almost as happy as you!” she replied, hugging him.
Chapter Eleven
Labor Day morning dawned clear and hot, but a fast moving shower cooled the afternoon air. There was to be a ball held at the Leon Hotel on East Park Avenue. There would be speeches, fireworks at dusk, and then an orchestra would play for the ball.
Mae and Eleanor had made many of the gowns that would be seen there. She’d finished her own modest gown a few nights ago and could not wait to show it off. It was a deep rose taffeta with an almost off-the-shoulder neckline. Mae had tried it on so Eleanor could pin for the last fitting, and it had rustled like dry leaves when she moved. She’d also fashioned a smart hat with a single silk rose and a small piece of pale Chantilly lace. The same lace adorned the neckline and cap sleeves. It made Mae feel quite the lady. She laughed at herself. While the dress would be fun to wear for an evening, it would hardly be appropriate attire for a modern woman running a household for troubled girls. It would be relegated to the back of a closet later, but for one evening, Mae would shine.
She was now sitting patiently while Maggie Sullivan wove her shiny, dark-chocolate curls into an elaborate hairstyle. Mae blushed as she remembered her first day in this wonderful house. No doubt Maggie had believed her to be a backwoods hick when she’d shown her surprise over the indoor plumbing.
Maggie was a true Irishwoman, with a loving, kind nature, and had taken Mae under her care at their first meeting. She’d been discreet in steering Mae through those first days of new sights and mannerisms. Maggie had helped Mae to adjust to city life with as little discomfort as possible.
Mae looked at her now and smiled. “I’m not the same country bumpkin I was a year ago, am I, Maggie?” she asked.
Maggie met the smile in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Begging for compliments are we, little missy, and you not even at the dance yet? You just remember who you are and don’t let all those fancy young men sweep you off your feet. Your head will be swelling enough from all their foolishness, without old Maggie addin’ to your conceit.”
Maggie always kept the family grounded. She had been with the Finches since before they lost their daughters to yellow fever. She’d grieved as if the two little ones had been her own. She was glad to hav
e Mae in the house, for herself and for Louise Finch. It was bittersweet to see this beautiful young woman blossom and wonder how the lost little ones would have looked now. As a rule, Maggie was never one to dwell on the past. She felt there was always living ahead of you and only a fool would not enjoy every moment of it. When life was over, well, it was over, and until the end arrived, Maggie believed she had an obligation to the Lord to savor every moment He gave her.
Her face softened as she looked at young Mae. Maggie knew how nervous she was about this big social outing. There was no need for Mae’s concern. Maggie had seen her bloom this past year. Mae was quick to learn all about the societal expectations put on a young woman, but still managed to hold onto those qualities given her by a loving mother. Mae managed to put the needs of others first without giving up her inner soul in the process. As Maggie slipped the last hairpin into place, she patted the daydreaming girl’s shoulder. “All right, little missy, will this hold up through all your wild dancing?” she asked with a slight smile.
Mae tore herself away from her daydream and looked in the mirror. She observed a tall young woman, dark brown eyes staring back at her. There were slight waves in the lustrous hair pulled up and placed in a crown of lofty curls at the back of her head.
The small pink hat was pinned to one side, leaving a lone ringlet of hair spiraling down past a long, slender neck, to rest just below her collarbone. “Oh, Maggie, you are wonderful! It is more than I expected even from your gifted hands.”
“All right, now off you go to the parlor, little missy. Mrs. Finch asked for the cabbie to be here at six o’clock on the dot, so you’ve got about ten minutes to spare,” Maggie said as she gathered Mae’s small reticule and soft pink shawl. Mae gave Maggie a quick kiss on the cheek, took her things, and appeared to float down the stairs.
Myron Finch was discussing one of his clients with Louise when Mae swept through the double doors. They both turned at the sound of her slippers. “Good heavens!” moaned Mr. Finch. “Surely no one expects me to be responsible for the stir this young beauty is going to cause tonight.”
Mae laughed as she blushed a pale shade of rose. “You, sir, are surely teasing. There will be a bevy of beautiful women there tonight, not to mention your lovely wife. It will be a thing of wonder if anyone even notices me.”
Louise’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she took Mae’s hands. She admired the gift her brother had sent her. She allowed just a moment of sadness to pass, in memory of her own lost daughters, before her face took on a motherly smile. She tucked her arm through Mae’s and said, “I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to look at you tonight. I’m proud of how much you have grown, in so many ways, this past year. Thank you, dear, for allowing us old folks to be a part of your transformation…” And before any of them could become even more maudlin, Louise said, “Ah, I hear the cabbie. Come, let’s get this show on the road.”
****
When she was younger, Mae had attended church suppers and even a birthday party or two, but nothing had prepared her for the sights and sounds that met them when they stepped out of the cab. It seemed like every window in the Leon Hotel held a glittering light. The sun was just below the horizon, and there was a soft breeze wafting through the opened windows and doors. Riding on the breeze was the sound of music, laughter, and clinking glassware.
Mae’s senses were overwhelmed by color, sound, and fragrance as they walked up the stairs to the open double doors leading into the ballroom at the north end of the hotel. There were men in light linen suits and women in every color of gown imaginable.
Mae recognized many of Eleanor’s creations, and some hats she herself had labored over.
It gave her a wonderful sense of accomplishment to know these ladies had enough pride in her creations to put them on display at such an important event. Everyone was smiling. Couples were moving through the massive ballroom, greeting friends, business associates, and even strangers.
Mr. Finch took each of his ladies by the arm and said, “We have a table reserved for us near the back balcony doors, ladies, so come this way and let me get you seated.”
As he led them across the room, his wife told him softly, “How thoughtful of you, dear, to obtain seating near an open door where we can catch the breeze.”
Once they were seated, he said, “I’ll just see if I can get you ladies some lemonade. Try to keep all the admirers at bay while I’m gone. Oh, and keep an eye out for Mrs. Taylor. I sent her a note inviting her to sit with us.”
“Oh, how sweet of your husband.” Mae smiled at Mrs. Finch.
“Yes, he is a dear, and I think I’ll keep him, now I’ve smoothed out all his wrinkles.”
Mae laughed. It had been apparent to her from the first time she met these two that they completed each other. They were able to read each other’s minds with just a sidewise glance, after thirty years together.
The two women spent the next few minutes admiring the table settings, the floral arrangements, and the groupings of small palm trees scattered around the room. The City Council and Business Association had outdone themselves this year. The Leon Hotel was transformed into a place to make memories. Tallahassee had become the state capital in 1884, and there was no looking back. It was a growing cultural center, a booming college town, and a growing business area attracting entrepreneurs from all around the country.
Mae was reflecting on how her father might take advantage of all this growth when she spotted Mr. Finch on his way back with two glasses of lemonade. Eleanor was at his side, wearing her own royal blue creation. It was an off-the-shoulder gown with a diaphanous overskirt that swirled around her trim ankles. True, hemlines had started to creep up, showing the anklebones, but for a formal occasion like this Eleanor had chosen to hold to the “dusting the floor” length.
Mae smiled as they progressed across the crowded floor. She knew her father couldn’t love Eleanor any more in this beautiful gown than he had loved her in a starched white apron in the kitchen, serving biscuits right out of the oven. It gave Mae such peace of heart and mind to know the two of them felt as they did about each other.
As they neared the table, Mr. Finch said with a smile, “Look what I found while getting the lemonade. I was afraid I was going to have to fight a couple of strapping men when I stole her away from the counter. Apparently they each had thoughts of entertaining her with their presence.”
“Well, you can’t blame them.” Mrs. Finch laughed. “What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to be seen with her on his arm?”
Eleanor chuckled as she blushed. “It wouldn’t have taken either of them long to become bored with my conversation about hats and silks and the newest patterns!”
Patrick stepped out from behind his mother and smiled at Mae. His face was flushed with excitement. He was having a difficult time keeping both feet on the ground. It was clear he wanted to bounce around but was doing his best to maintain the proper behavior for a young man allowed to participate in this wonderful party.
“Hello, Mae. Isn’t this grand?” he exclaimed. “I fetched you a lemonade ’cause Mr. Finch only has two hands, so he borrowed mine, and I didn’t spill a single drop!” Mae was quick to take the two cups from him before he was overcome with excitement. She didn’t want him to spill lemonade on the little linen suit his mother had sewn for him.
“Mama said I could go to the upper balcony later and watch the fireworks. I can’t wait to see them, can you?”
Mae laughed. “I’ll be glad to take you up after dark and watch them with you.”
It was about a quarter before nine, and the sky was darkening. The mayor had given a rousing speech about the growth prospects, the ever-growing work force, and the numerous opportunities to be found in Tallahassee, and the crowd had cheered with enthusiasm. Afterwards, folks once again started to mill around and seek out familiar faces or business prospects to chat with.
Mae turned to Patrick and announced, “All right, young man, I think it’s time you an
d I move upstairs and see if we can find a seat for the fireworks show.”
Eleanor smiled at Mae and asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind, dear? Would you rather stay down here and listen to the music? Perhaps some young man would ask you to dance, if given the chance.”
“Oh, no.” Mae laughed. “I’d much rather see the display than become a display. My dancing skills leave much to be desired. You just sit here and relax. Peanut and I will come back later and tell you all about what we’ve seen.”
Patrick was a complete chatterbox as they climbed the stairway at the end of the veranda. They found a bench just outside a pair of open French doors on the upper balcony. Once Mae was seated, she watched Patrick cling to the rail, bouncing up and down on his toes, in anticipation of the wonders to come.
He was chatting like a magpie to another little boy, who’d also been given the wonderful opportunity to have his eardrums strained from the explosions and his vision blurred by the brightness of all the colors. As Mae sat on the bench, she was aware of people moving behind the grouping of small palms at her back, but she was too wrapped up in thoughts of Eleanor and Papa to focus on the conversations behind her.
A faint breeze drifted across the balcony, bringing a whiff of something that brought Mae out of her daydream and began a growing sense of unease.
As her nose caught the elusive scent again, her stomach tightened, and she began to tremble. The fragrance, wafting in and out of the reach of her memory, was lemongrass. Mae understood it was unreasonable to be this frightened by the hint of lemongrass on the breeze, and she’d almost calmed her foolish nerves when she became aware of male voices. Right behind the palm trees at her shoulders, one of the men said something she could not understand, and then the second one said, “Perhaps this is not such a good idea after all.”
Mae wanted to stand, to run, to scream, but she found herself frozen to the bench. Time stood still. She could no longer hear anything. There was just the roaring in her head. She could see Patrick clapping his hands and jumping up and down as the fireworks display illuminated the evening sky. Everyone on the balcony was staring off to the north, where the beautiful colored lights made intricate patterns in the air.