Daylight Comes

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Daylight Comes Page 16

by Judith Miller


  She wondered if something more had gone amiss at the Boyle home. Macia knew Truth hadn’t planned to hire a housekeeper until the end of December. Nevertheless, she pushed aside her concerns and agreed to Fern’s offer. The entire concept seemed strange—a white woman cleaning and cooking for her. Yet Fern seemed not to care so long as she had a place to live and an income. In fact, she appeared quite pleased with the arrangement.

  Scarcely able to believe her good fortune, Fern carried her bags upstairs and placed them in front of the oak wardrobe. This room was considerably larger than the one she’d occupied at the Boyles’, and the furnishings were lovely, also. As she hung her dresses in the large wardrobe, Fern decided Macia had actually done her a favor. Living in Nicodemus was going to prove financially beneficial—much more so than marrying Jeb Malone would have. Furthermore, she hadn’t loved him—he’d merely been a means to what she had hoped would be a better life, although she knew the marriage wouldn’t have lasted.

  Jeb’s sniveling little sister had been more than she could bear when they were courting. If they had wed, Lucy would have come between them—of that she was convinced. Lucy had been patently clear: she wanted Jeb to marry Macia Boyle. Well, Macia could have him. Fern would have no trouble beginning anew.

  Closing the wardrobe doors, she walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain. The possibilities were endless. She considered taking in several boarders after the Wymans departed. Likely Mrs. Wyman wouldn’t be pleased with such an idea, but if she rented to peddlers who were in and out of town, her idea might be successful. After all, the house was out of the way, and perhaps this town wasn’t filled with as many gossips as she’d encountered in Hill City. She dropped the curtain back in place. No need for an immediate decision. There would be ample time to consider her options prior to the end of the month. For the time being, she would act the perfect employee.

  Truth met her at the bottom of the staircase. “Would you care to go to the general store and purchase some items I need? It would give you an opportunity to become acquainted with some of the folks in town.”

  Fern hastily agreed. She’d enjoy nothing more. Yes indeed! As far as she was concerned, life had taken a turn in the proper direction. She embraced the feeling of self-satisfaction as she donned her coat. Her future appeared bright.

  Lucy Malone’s presence had instilled new life in the Boyle household. Her liveliness and cheery personality infused all of them with renewed vigor. She regaled them with stories throughout the evening meal, and even Macia’s mother encouraged Lucy’s antics. Except for being faced with Jeb’s daily visits, Macia delighted in having Lucy nearby. The girl seemed to fill the void of the younger sister she’d always longed for. She’d nearly settled Lucy in the library with a book when Gerta announced Camille Faraday had come calling and she’d asked her to wait in the parlor.

  Lucy closed the book, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Bring her in the library so we can all have a nice chat.”

  “Let me ascertain the reason for Camille’s visit. She doesn’t normally arrive unexpectedly.” Macia patted the girl’s shoulder. “She may want to speak privately. Why don’t you begin reading?”

  Though she appeared downcast by the idea of being left out, Lucy nodded. “Just don’t forget I’m in here by myself.”

  Macia laughed. “How could any of us ever forget when you’re around, Lucy? You’re the one who keeps us smiling.”

  Lucy beamed at the remark before turning her attention back to the pages of Little Women.

  Macia couldn’t deny her own curiosity. Though she had attempted to develop a friendship with Camille, the girl had never appeared interested. Not that she’d been rude. But like the rest of her family, she appeared withdrawn and unwilling to develop any close relationships.

  Although Mrs. Faraday had mentioned forming a ladies’ literary guild when the family first arrived, there’d been no further talk of the idea. Still, they’d not been in town for long. Perhaps she planned to wait until spring to embark upon the endeavor—not that Macia thought the idea held much merit. Mrs. Faraday would have more success hosting a quilting bee or Bible class.

  Macia also hoped to find out exactly why the family hadn’t appeared for Thanksgiving dinner. Even her father hadn’t been able to elicit further information from Mr. Faraday.

  “Camille! What a pleasant surprise. I see that Gerta has taken your coat. May I serve you a cup of tea?”

  Camille wrung her hands. “No. But thank you for the kind offer.

  I do hope I’m not intruding, but I’m in need of advice. I’m ever so worried about my family and I don’t know where to turn. Promise you’ll not tell my family I’ve spoken to you.”

  Macia sat in a chair next to Camille’s and placed her hand atop the girl’s. Camille’s hand trembled beneath her own, and she wondered what could cause her such distress. “You have my word. How can I help?”

  A faraway look glazed Camille’s eyes. “My family has been beset by difficulties for as long as I can remember, most of them due to my father’s behavior. He is the reason we moved to Hill City.”

  Macia settled into her chair and listened as Camille related the secret tales of the Faraday family and their ongoing problems— accounts of how her family had faced financial ruin due to her father and his troublesome ways.

  Camille pressed her hand down the pleat in her skirt. “Hoping she could frighten Father into changing his ways, my mother even threatened to divorce him. This move to Hill City was to be his final chance. Unfortunately, I believe he’s fallen back into his old habits.

  Soon mother will discover his wayward activities, and I truly do not know what will happen.”

  Macia didn’t know what wayward activities consumed Mr. Faraday’s life and would not inquire. Right now, she wished she had insisted upon serving tea. With a cup of warm liquid to calm her, Macia might not feel so utterly confused. Obviously Camille expected something of her, but she didn’t know what. Camille stared at her with a look of unwavering anticipation that demanded a reaction.

  Uncertain how to proceed, Macia decided she must forge ahead before Lucy came and interrupted their conversation. “I’m willing to help you, Camille, but I have no idea what I can do.”

  Camille drew in a deep breath and then related the remainder of her story, which was far from pretty. She said her father had become addicted to gambling—much the way other men become addicted to alcohol. Unfortunately, none of them had realized what was happening until it was too late. Without her mother’s knowledge, her father had gambled away the family fortune and left them destitute. When they arrived in Hill City, the only money they’d had to begin their new life was an inheritance Mrs. Faraday had received only weeks earlier.When she had received the inheritance, Mrs. Faraday issued her husband an ultimatum and soon thereafter the family was on their way west.

  Camille’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We were sworn to secrecy regarding our past. Mother feared if anyone knew we wouldn’t be accepted.” She wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down her cheek. “You likely wondered why I was unsociable toward you— and withdrew from Harvey’s affections. I longed to form a friendship with you, but I was afraid I’d slip and say something about my past.”

  “Is that why your family didn’t attend Thanksgiving dinner?”

  Hurt flashed in Camille’s eyes. “I was so much looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner with your family. However, my parents had a terrible argument regarding money that was missing from the pharmacy receipts. Mother believes the funds were gambled away by Father. Accusations flew back and forth between my parents until Father left the house. Rather than attempt to explain the circumstances, Mother penned the note saying we were dealing with an emergency.” Camille shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I didn’t understand why we all had to remain at home. In retrospect, I suppose Mother was correct. Father’s absence would have been difficult to explain, and one of us might have slipped up.”

  Now Macia under
stood why Camille had turned down Harvey’s numerous social invitations. The young woman’s fear of divulging family confidences appeared to circumscribe her entire life. In fact, fear probably governed the lives of the entire Faraday clan. Certainly it explained Mrs. Faraday’s controlling behavior toward her husband.

  With all she’d divulged, though, Camille still hadn’t answered Macia’s question. As she once again made inquiry as to how she could assist, Macia fleetingly recalled her visit to the general store and Mrs.

  Johnson’s declaration that something was amiss at the pharmacy.

  “I fear my father may have gambled away our house. I know Mother’s name was on the deed for the pharmacy, but I don’t know about the house. Since your parents owned the property, would you consider asking your father if he recalls?”

  Fear engulfed Macia like a summer freshet flooding the banks of a creek. Surely Mr. Faraday wouldn’t jeopardize his family’s home. Or would he? She’d heard Harvey tell stories about the men he had gambled with back in Kentucky—how they’d lose all sense of reason when they were drinking and playing cards.

  “I’ll ask him when we’re alone later today. Then I’ll plan to stop by the pharmacy tomorrow morning.” Macia leaned in closer and whispered, “Has your father done something that makes you believe he’s deeded away the house?”

  Camille lowered her head and fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable.

  Just as Macia decided she should withdraw her question, Camille said she’d overheard her father and a skinny pock-faced peddler talking the previous afternoon. “He asked my father if I came with the house. Why else would he ask such a thing?”

  In an attempt to assuage Camille’s fears, Macia replied the comment could mean any number of things. However, when pressed, she couldn’t name even one alternative. “Let’s wait until we know there’s something to worry about. I know my father will do anything he can to help.” With a tilt of her head, Macia motioned toward the library.

  “If you don’t at least greet Lucy, I’ll never be forgiven. I hope you have a few moments to say hello.”

  Camille nodded. “I’ll peek in, but I must return before I’m missed. I told Father I was going for a short walk. I’m sure he thought me daft, what with the cold weather, but he waved me off when his card-playing friends arrived.” She grasped Macia’s hand. “You won’t mention this to anyone except your father, will you? I’d rather no one else knows just yet.”

  Macia gently embraced the young woman. “You needn’t worry. I’ll not breathe a word.”

  CHAPTER

  18

  Hill City , Kansas

  Macia donned her heavy blue woolen coat and hat and tucked her hands into her white fur muff as she descended the front porch steps. She’d gotten Lucy settled with a supply of art paper, paintbrushes, and oil paints that had been packed away since their move to Hill City. Though Macia doubted the quality of the paints was the same after several years in storage, Lucy had doggedly insisted they would be fine. And so Macia had set up an easel of sorts near one of the tall library windows.

  Shortly before Macia departed, Lucy had secured her place as the Boyles’ artist in residence.

  As far as Macia was concerned, the best possible painting would be one that captured Lucy’s likeness as she sat at her easel attempting to paint. Macia wondered if she could possibly create a decent likeness of Lucy. Though she’d once had artistic talent, it had been years since she’d taken up a paintbrush.

  Her fanciful idea disappeared as she neared the pharmacy. She hoped Camille would be in the store. Otherwise, she’d be forced to make a purchase and return at a later time. As she approached the front door, she spied Camille standing at the counter; she didn’t catch sight of Mr. Faraday anywhere nearby.

  The moment she entered the door, Camille rounded the counter and neared her side. “My father is in the back room.”

  Before she could say another word, Mr. Faraday entered the room. “Macia! What brings you out on this cold morning? I hope your mother isn’t ill.”

  Macia shook her head. “No, but thank you for your concern. I was going over to the general store and stopped to see if Camille would like to join me for a cup of tea—if you can do without her help for a short time.” Mr. Faraday’s shoulders tightened, straining the buttons on his cassimere vest. He cast a wary glance in his daughter’s direction. Macia feared he sensed something might be amiss as she’d never before stopped by the store to invite Camille to join her for tea.

  Hoping to ease any suspicion, Macia shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “I’ve been cooped up with Lucy Malone, and I long to talk to someone my own age for a short time. You did know Lucy had moved in with us until she recuperates, didn’t you?”

  Mr. Faraday nodded. “Yes. Your father told me.” His shoulders remained rigid, but he said, “Don’t be gone too long.”

  “I won’t.” Camille grabbed her coat, and the two of them headed for the door. Moving side by side, they bowed their heads against the stinging wind and crossed the street. Macia sensed that if she turned and looked back, she’d see Mr. Faraday watching after them.

  The table near the front of the store was unoccupied, a propitious happenstance. Garrett walked from the rear of the store and greeted Macia with a broad smile. “I fear you ladies will have only me to assist you with your shopping today. My aunt and uncle departed for Ellis before sunup.” He waved toward the merchandise-laden shelves and tables with a worried look in his eyes. “Believe me, I’m going to need your help locating anything that isn’t easily within view.”

  Macia couldn’t help but commiserate. He looked like a forlorn child on the first day of school. She quickly explained he’d have no trouble with them since they wanted only a cup of tea and she’d be happy to take care of that particular chore. Leaving Camille to secure the small table, she walked alongside Garrett to the heating stove, where a pot of coffee and a pot of tea simmered during the winter months. She was thrilled with their good fortune: they wouldn’t have to contend with Mrs. Johnson’s attempts to overhear their conversation.

  Garrett handed her two empty cups. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me for supper tonight. If there’s enough moonlight, we could even go ice skating.”

  The expectancy in his eyes made the offer difficult to refuse. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Garrett. However, Lucy Malone is staying with us until—”

  “I don’t think Lucy would mind if you went out for one evening. Surely you’re not going to refuse all invitations until her broken leg has mended.”

  “No, but we’ve begun a new project. She’s trying her hand at painting, and—”

  “I understand Jeb is joining you each evening, also.”

  Did she detect a hint of irritation in his words? Well, she would set the record straight here and now. “I didn’t extend the invitation to Jeb. My father did so as a kindness to Lucy.”

  Garrett looked heavenward.

  Now certain he didn’t believe her, Macia forged onward. “My father realized Lucy would miss seeing her brother each day. Jeb spends his time visiting with Lucy, not with me.”

  Macia glanced over her shoulder. Camille was staring at the grandfather clock in a nearby corner. Though Garrett didn’t seem convinced, Macia hadn’t come to the store to argue with him. In fact, she hadn’t come to see him at all! She needed to get back to the table.

  Accordingly, she placed the cups on one of the small trays Mrs. Johnson used for serving coffee to her customers.

  “Camille doesn’t have much time. She’s needed back at the pharmacy soon.” Lifting the tray, she stepped around him.

  “Since you won’t go out with me, perhaps you could set an extra place at your dining table this evening?”

  Knowing he hoped to detain her, Macia merely smiled. “We’ll talk before I depart for home.”

  After a quick apology for her delay, Macia seated herself across from Camille. With their heads close together, the young ladies talked in hushed tones as c
ustomers entered and departed the store.

  Two of the regular checker players arrived and stood nearby until Macia waved them off with a promise she and Camille would be leaving in only a few more minutes.

  She disliked delivering her father’s message about the deed, for she knew it would only compound Camille’s fears. Only Mr. Faraday’s name had been placed on the deed to the house. Although Dr. Boyle related he had questioned Mr. Faraday’s decision, the man had been insistent. On the day they’d made the transfer, he’d declared his wife had taken ill and couldn’t possibly be in attendance. Mr. Faraday had stated his wife was in total agreement. In addition, the purchase money had already exchanged hands—so how could Macia’s parents argue against signing the deed?

  As they prepared to leave, Macia clasped Camille’s hand. “My father said he will help in any way possible. He frequently talks to your father regarding medication for his patients and thought he might broach the subject without arousing suspicion.”

  “I need time to think before doing anything further. Give your father my thanks, but tell him not to do anything until he hears from me.”

  “You had best hurry back to the store. I told Garrett I’d speak to him before I departed for home.”

  The girls bid each other good-bye, and Macia gathered up the cups. She’d barely removed them from the table when the two men rushed over, collapsed into the chairs, and began to set up their checkerboard.

  She replaced the tray and surveyed the room, finally locating

  Garrett, who was now surrounded by several customers. Two more women entered the store, and she decided the remainder of their conversation could wait until another day. Besides, she had made it clear that Jeb’s nightly presence in her home was due solely to Lucy’s condition.

  Macia’s father had barely finished saying grace when Gerta hurried back into the dining room. She clasped one hand to her chest and breathlessly announced Mr. Garrett Johnson was in the foyer insisting he had received a supper invitation—for this evening. The housekeeper’s eyes darted around the table. “Who invited a guest without telling me to prepare more food?” Her voice warbled by nearly a full octave as she spoke.

 

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