by Holly Bush
Adam felt certain he’d made the right decision when he’d encouraged Emmaline to attend this school, although admittedly, he’d be anything but comfortable imagining her in a big city, alone. Perhaps he should go with her, rent a house, but then who would manage Paradise? Matthew could of course, but other than foaling they would soon be in the busiest season, when they trained their horses to the bit and bridle and saddle, and sometimes, even a harness. Livie would be able to help if she weren’t expecting, but she was, and he wouldn’t have her do that exhausting work in her condition, and Jim would likely not allow it. He couldn’t leave right now.
He’d nearly stopped Olivia’s plans to live on her own and work in Washington last year, and what a catastrophe that would have been if he had. She would have resented him and maybe never recognized her love for Jim. But it had been difficult to restrain himself as the head of the family. The welfare of the women and children in his sphere was at the forefront of everything that he did and thought and planned. It had always been that way for his father and he’d lectured his sons regularly about their duty to safeguard their women, both from danger and unhappiness. Beauregard Gentry had set out to make sure that his wife was safe and comfortable and that his children were, too, and succeeded spectacularly beyond his rough-and-tumble upbringing.
He would have to admit, though, that much of Beauregard’s worries stemmed from the fact that he’d saved Mother with his knife and his pistol from being sold to bandits for a twenty-dollar gold piece. Sold! His mother! Sometimes he couldn’t believe the story even though it had been told to him many times, and even with all the passing years, its elements were never changed or blurred. His father had killed four men, carried mother to an abandoned cabin, allowed her to heal, and followed her, unbeknownst to her, of course, to the church in Winchester where her intended groom had rejected her. Beauregard had married her two days later. No wonder Father was so adamant. Maybe the city wouldn’t be as dangerous as he imagined. Certainly, there were policemen in Philadelphia rather than just a lone sheriff, as there was here in Winchester. He wondered if he would sleep a wink while she was gone.
EMMALINE STOPPED at Jim and Olivia’s house after going back to Winchester to send her letter to Mr. Beadle and send her telegraph to Clair House, home of the studies for women authors. She was hoping they would take her on.
“You must never bother knocking,” Olivia said as she pulled her inside. “You’re family. And you’re looking well, with some color to your cheeks and a spring in your step.”
Emmaline smiled and hugged her sister-in-law. She was perfect for her quiet giant of a brother. “I have come to ask a favor and am hoping you have something cold to drink. I’m parched!”
Olivia pulled her along toward the kitchen. “I have cold tea, and I made a fruitcake that is barely edible unless you add mounds of butter.”
“Your house is looking wonderful,” Emmaline said as they went down the short hallway and into the kitchen. “And you’re looking healthy and happy.” She looked pointedly at Olivia’s slightly rounded belly.
“Oh, Emmaline! I’m so wondrously happy, I don’t know what do with myself! I’m so looking forward to this baby.” She set out two glasses and pulled a pitcher of tea from the icebox. “I’ve never been much of seamstress, but I’ve made some of the most darling clothes, and Mother ships me things from all the fashionable stores in Washington.”
Olivia hurried out of the room and came back holding up a tiny nightgown, its edges embroidered with yellow and green thread. She handed it to Emmaline. “I’ve done all the sewing myself!”
Emmaline took the garment from her, fingered the fabric, and examined the small stitches around the scalloped hem as she dropped down onto a kitchen chair. She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear fell on her hand. And then her tears came in torrents, hiccoughing sobs, making her nose run and her eyes blur.
“Oh no,” Olivia said and knelt in front of her. “How thoughtless of me. How absolutely cruel. I am so sorry to go on and on about it.”
Emmaline shook her head and blew her nose. “You must not stop. I am very glad for you and Jim both.”
Olivia sat down beside her and picked up her hand. “I’m so sorry, Emmaline.”
“I never was excited about it, you know, not like you. I didn’t feel well, and the circumstances were dreadful.” She looked up at her sister-in-law then, tears tumbling again down her cheeks. “I feel so guilty now that he’s lost that I wasn’t more excited about his birth. I didn’t get to see him either, you know. But that would have been worse, I think, in some ways.”
“I was there. I lined the box they buried him in,” Olivia said and wiped tears from her own eyes. “I doubt if you remember me being there much that first week, but I was there with your mother and sisters. I don’t believe you have anything to feel guilty about. You grieved deeply, Emmaline. Perhaps you don’t remember. You’d lost quite a bit of blood.”
“That week isn’t clear in my memory, but I wonder if that’s just the nature of loss. Maybe we don’t remember what we can’t manage. Your mother sent me letters that were a comfort, and Annie visited several times. Adam was very sad, too, although, it’s strange, is it not, that he might have considered it a relief but didn’t.”
“It’s not strange at all. Adam is the best of men, other than Jim, of course.”
“He is. He’s done something so remarkable for me that I can barely believe it. But this isn’t what I’ve come to talk to you about. You must be very busy.”
“Please tell me, Emmaline. What has Adam done? Excuse me, but I’m desperate to hear how the two of you are doing after your loss. So is your mother and Nettie and Jane and Betsy, although Betsy is so excited about her wedding, she can’t sit still.”
“I’m not surprised about Betsy. She’s been pining for Edwin for years.” She looked up at Olivia. “I’ve kept everything to myself and made everyone who loves me worry, haven’t I?”
“We are worried about you and about Adam, but marriages are private. I understand and so does everyone else.”
“I may as well tell you.” Emmaline smiled. “I’m too excited to hold it in.”
Just as Emmaline began to share her story, her brother Jim arrived home and kissed her cheek and his wife’s lips. “What am I interrupting?”
“You must be quiet. Emmaline has exciting news and is just about to share it with us. Oh, do sit down, dear. You’re most likely tired and hungry. Would you like me to cut you a piece of fruitcake?”
Jim shook his head. “No thank you, Livie. Go ahead with your news, Emmaline.”
So, she told them.
“Adam is going to allow this move to the city?” Jim said sternly when she was done.
“Adam is my husband, but he doesn’t do my deciding for me. I’ve longed for four years to get admitted to Clair House. Just as I was preparing to tell Mother and everyone else that I was going there, I found myself expecting a baby with no husband. Adam respects me enough to be happy for me.”
“I’ll bet he’s worried and beside himself,” Jim said.
“But this is so exciting about your book!” Olivia said. “I’m so proud of you! I never knew you did any writing.”
“Betsy was the only one that knew,” she said. “It never seemed real enough to tell everyone else, especially after I was rejected so many times. I’m very excited, and Adam is, too.”
“Of course, he is. We’re all hoping that the two of you will be very happy together. Maybe even fall in love.” Olivia grinned.
“I don’t know about the falling in love part, but I don’t think we’ll be divorcing or separating. He’s adamant.”
“What?” Jim said loudly. “Divorcing?”
“Oh, dear,” Olivia covered her mouth with her hand.
“You’ve got to put that out of your head, Emmaline,” Jim said. “Marriage is for good. Mother would be . . .”
“You may quit lecturing me any minute. I understand the hurt and embarrassment I
’ve caused our family, and now I’ve involved the Gentrys.” She stood, feeling angry and betrayed. “But my feelings, my wants and needs and dreams and desires have always been less because they weren’t the same as every other female’s. I’m going to Philadelphia and learn more about my writing. My story will be published in Beadle’s, and my husband supports me in both things.”
Emmaline turned on her heel and hurried to the front door. Jim caught her by the arm and wrapped her up against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “It’s just that I worry about you.”
“I know. But I’m just not like the others. I’m just not.”
He held her away from his chest and smiled a lopsided grin. “I’m glad you are exactly who you are. I couldn’t be prouder of you and this writing. I can hardly take it in.”
“Are you sure?”
He tilted his head to the side and regarded her for several long moments. “Of course, I’m sure. You were always the smartest of the bunch of us.”
Olivia kissed her cheek and then patted her own belly. “This baby is going to have a famous aunt. I’m sure of it.”
“I almost forgot why I stopped by. I need your help, Olivia. I’m going to Bessie’s to order several new things and I’d like you to come with me. I’m going to ask Nettie to come, too. You both always manage to wear the right color and style and I’m always in a gray or brown seed sack, it seems.”
“Shopping? Of course! We could go into Washington and visit Mother instead and order at all the fashionable salons the week after Betsy’s wedding! What do you think? Will Nettie be able to slip away?”
“I never thought about going to Washington to shop. Would Eleanor mind, do you think?”
“Mind? Heavens no! She’d be very excited!”
Jim kissed Olivia’s head. “What is this going to cost me?”
“Never you mind,” she said and laughed. “I’ll send a letter to Mother right away.”
Emmaline walked the three blocks to Nettie’s, her mind racing with what she’d said to Jim and Olivia. She was no longer considering any type of separation, it seemed, or at least that was what she’d said. Was that exactly what she believed? Or was she too busy defending herself to her brother, the dearest person in her world, and the person she was closest to, although, it was Adam she’d wanted to tell first. It was Adam she wanted to hug and kiss. It was Adam’s approval, and approval wasn’t quite the right word, but it was something like that. She wanted his support and respect and she’d received it. Did she want more?
Emmaline hugged and kissed her niece and nephew and drew her sister to the kitchen. She told her about Beadle’s and Clair House and asked her about a visit to Washington to shop if they could convince Jane to take her children to their mother’s as John was away most days.
“What did Adam say? Is he upset about you moving away to Philadelphia?”
“It’s only for six months, but yes, I think he is worried. But mostly he talked about how excited he is for me.”
“How are you feeling? That last time I saw you, you looked like a scarecrow. You look much better now. We’ve all been worried about you.”
“I’m better. I’m finally feeling myself.”
“There’ll be other children,” Nettie said and hugged herself. “I’ve been hoping for a third myself.”
“Well . . . there may be other children, but we haven’t done what was necessary to produce one yet.” Emmaline looked at her sister. “I have questions.”
“Are you not feeling up to it?”
“I’m feeling very much up to it, but there are some complications.”
“Is he not feeling up to it?” Nettie asked, a look of horror on her face. “John said that can happen to a man as he gets older.”
“Adam isn’t old! He’s only a few years older than John and Matt and Jim.”
“Why haven’t you, you know, done what was necessary, then?”
Emmaline dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “I would like to and I’m fairly certain he would like to. We’ve done some . . . touching.” She looked up at her sister. “But if I am to attend Clair House, I cannot be with child again.”
“There are ways to prevent babies, you know,” Nettie said as she stirred a pot on the stove and peeked through the doorway to where the children were playing with a puzzle.
“What are they?”
Nettie shrugged. “For a time, right after Albert, John would . . . end things on my stomach instead of inside me.”
“So, the seed was not . . .”
“Planted.”
“There are other ways?”
“There are always sheaths,” she said and stared sightlessly out her kitchen window. “John thinks they’re more reliable than the other.”
“I wouldn’t know where to . . .”
“That is for Adam to worry about. Tell him you would like to continue the touching to its conclusion but don’t want to become pregnant. He’ll know what to do.”
But that wasn’t the entire problem, was it. It wasn’t so much about obtaining sheaths, although she’d have no idea how to do it, it was about consummating the marriage, making it impossible to wiggle out of, she imagined. Without the complete act . . . she was still free. Or was she?
“Once we get to this conclusion, I’ll be his wife in earnest,” she whispered. “There’ll be no turning back.” And she wondered if he would ever be happy with her. She watched him from the corner of her eye in the evenings when she was finishing her writing and he was reading a book or the newspaper. But that was just it. Often, he wasn’t reading, just holding a book and staring into the fireplace or out the window. She felt certain he was thinking about Josephine. He was still grieving, and she wondered if he’d ever recover.
Nettie pulled bread from the oven and the children came running. She sliced the warm loaf, added butter and jam, and handed each child a piece. They went out the back door to sit on the porch. She turned to her sister, hands on her hips. “You’re already his wife in earnest whether you wish to believe it or not. There never was an opportunity to turn back other than prior to your wedding. You can make your life miserable or you can make the best of it. Adam Gentry is handsome, wealthy, and apparently thrilled that his wife writes novels. What else do you want?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “The Gentrys are rich, true, and he was honestly excited about my writing. He is attractive, too. Very much so.”
“Then what are you waiting for, Emmaline?” Nettie asked with some exasperation. “Be his wife in every way. Find out how your marriage is going to work. Talk to him. Especially right after you’ve made love—John is very pliable afterwards—and you may be able to set up a routine that is mostly to your liking.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Of course!”
“But you love John and he you. It’s sickening sometimes to watch you two.”
Nettie sighed and shrugged her shoulders, a little smile on her lips and a faraway look in her eye. “Yes. Yes, we do love each other.” She turned back to the oven and moved the coffeepot to boil. “Maybe you will love Adam in the same way, Emmaline. You’re not as immune to soft feelings as you make yourself out to be.”
EMMALINE HAD BEEN quiet at dinner and sat at the desk in the main room, equally writing on paper and crumbling it into balls. He opened a book, propped his legs on the leather hassock, and tried to relax but his eyes continued to drift toward her. Her posture was rigid, and her face focused and serious. His bride took her writing to heart. He was going to ask her one of these days to allow him to read something she’d written, but he wasn’t sure she was ready to share with him. He sensed her writing was intensely personal, and they were not yet intimates. She turned to him as she tried to fix her fountain pen and only managed to squirt ink on her blouse. She dabbed at it and looked up at him.
“I don’t know quite how to ask you this,” she said.
“Ask me anything you want.”
> “I went to see Olivia and Nettie to ask them to come with me to Bessie’s and help me pick out some new things to wear. I’d like to arrive in Philadelphia looking more put together and stylish than I usually do, although I don’t understand why. I’ve never given one damn about my clothing before.”
He chuckled. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been looking forward to this for a long time and want to make a good impression.”
“You’re right, of course. I am vain in the extreme.”
He laughed outright. “There’s nothing the matter with wanting to look your best, although you are a very beautiful woman regardless of what you’re wearing.”
She blushed, her face and neck turning pink. He watched the color recede below the edge of her dress. “Well. That is ridiculous.”
“What is it you wished to talk about, Emmaline?” he asked after several minutes had gone by.
“Olivia said we should take the train to Washington and visit your mother and go to all the shops there if Jane will manage Nettie’s children for a few days.”
“Mother would be thrilled to see all of you. What’s the problem, then?”
“I have enough money saved for the tuition at Clair House and a bit extra but I’m thinking that the shops in Washington will be much more expensive than Bessie’s.” She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “Do you think you could lend me some money until I’m paid by Beadle’s?”
“Lend you some money?”
“I promise to pay it back as soon—”
“Emmaline. You are not borrowing any money from me. You’re my wife. I’ve already set up an account at the bank here in town with money for your personal use. I will have to ask Mother what the most convenient way would be to take care of the bills at the shops in Washington. She probably has credit accounts set up at the shops she frequents, so it may just be a matter of her forwarding the bills to me.”