“You would owe me quite a bit of money if I actually made you pay every time you said that.”
“Yes, but it might be worth my fortune to know what thoughts lurk behind the myriad expressions that cross your face when you think no one is looking.” He came to stand beside her at the fence, one booted foot on the bottom rail, arms crossed on the top.
She searched wildly around for a safe topic, knowing full well she would never divulge what she had actually been thinking.
“Your horses are beautiful. You must be very proud of the tradition you have created.” She spoke the truth, for even though she knew little about these animals, she realized they were exceptional. It reminded her of looking at art — a person might not know the period of a piece, or its worth, but it was still beautiful to behold.
“Not all the horses here were bred and foaled under the Wildwood name. Take Sabet, over there. He’s not exactly your typical racehorse.” He grinned as he answered and her breath caught.
He wore a jacket over a white shirt open at the collar, and she stared at the small vee of brown neck. All she would have to do is lean forward a little to kiss right there; right where his throat vibrated when he talked; when he swallowed.
She closed her eyes against the sight, thinking hard about anything else. “What about Sabet?” She recalled having ridden that horse — once.
“He’s a gelding and not much of a racer, but I couldn’t very well get rid of him after I won him.”
“You won a horse?”
“That’s how he got his name, Sabet. You know — ‘It’s a bet’? I won him from a drunk.”
“You what?” She couldn’t believe he would take advantage of someone that way. “Isn’t that the least bit dishonorable; to bet with a drunk?”
He turned to study her for a minute and she wondered what he was thinking behind those glittering silver eyes.
“I don’t know about Texas, but up here we take our horses, and our wagers, as seriously as we do our honor. Dishonor would come from not paying a wager, and any man who can’t hold his liquor shouldn’t be betting. Or he shouldn’t be drinking.” With that pronouncement, he walked away.
Honor. She still wasn’t used to the strict code of conduct by which the men of this time period lived. The fact that they expected the women to abide by strange rules they created was even more of a mystery to her.
* * *
Jaci climbed into the carriage behind Amanda, who should have been exhausted, but instead chattered like a magpie.
“Did you see that elephant? And the giraffe? Oh, Miss Eastman, the zoo was the most magnificent thing I have ever seen.”
Jaci grinned. Everything today had been magnificent. If it wasn’t magnificent, it had been marvelous, the old standby word of the day. She would have to check the dictionary for a group of words not in the ‘m’ category.
The zoo had been a good idea, and she was glad they had come. Originally, Nicholas was supposed to accompany them, but a prospective buyer had dropped by unexpectedly. Not wanting to ruin Amanda’s outing, he had allowed the coachman to drive them into Philadelphia, anyway.
Unlike zoos Jaci had frequented as a child, the Philadelphia Zoological Gardens in Fairmount Park kept most of the animals inside. They had spent the day wandering from building to building, stopping only briefly to eat at noon. As the day progressed, Jaci noticed a decided chill in the air, and now, as they loaded to return to Wildwood, she felt a snowflake drop onto her nose.
“We’d best be for home, Miss,” the coachman said as he helped her into the carriage. “Looks to be some snow blowing in.”
“Yes, you’re right. Will you be warm enough up on the box?” At the coachman’s strange look, she added, “Do you want my scarf?”
The man’s eyes opened wider and she hoped she hadn’t offended him in some way. Then he grinned and tipped his hat at her. “Thank you kindly, Miss, for thinking of me. It wouldn’t be a bit honorable of me to take a scarf from a lady, now would it?” He closed the door behind her, and the carriage swayed as he climbed aboard.
Honestly, she thought, did every single man in this world worry about honor even over taking care of himself? She settled back on the seat as the carriage began to move. A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. In a way, it was nice to be fussed over and to have someone take care of her. Just a little.
Jaci had nodded off to sleep, Amanda curled up in the seat beside her, when the carriage lurched to the side. Along with the yelling and swearing by the coachman, the tilt of the carriage led her to assume a wheel had broken. When she was certain the vehicle had stopped and wouldn’t turn over on them, she helped Amanda out the door. They stood by the side of the road while the driver paced back and forth.
“I can’t go for help and leave you ladies alone.” He came to stand before her, wringing his hands.
She opened her mouth to reply, but he resumed pacing, mumbling to himself. “I’ll have to stay here until someone comes along to help.”
Looking skyward as though for divine intervention, he gave a sigh. “Lordy, wouldn’t you know it would decide to snow now. If I don’t go for help, we’ll very likely all freeze. If I do go, I’d be neglecting my duties to you ladies.”
Jaci lifted the hood of her cloak as large, wet flakes fell with incredible speed. Not more than an hour ago, it had been rather mild. The man was right, though, about freezing if they didn’t get home, but she didn’t agree on their helpless condition. She was learning, however, that it did little good arguing with a man about honor and responsibility towards a woman. So, it appeared that left only one choice.
“I don’t see the problem. If you have a jack and a spare, we can probably change it. It can’t be any harder than a Corsica. ”Amanda’s giggle caught her attention and she glanced at the youngster, who held both hands over her mouth to suppress her mirth, but whose eyes danced with delight. Amanda wasn’t even looking at her, but stared at the coachman. Jaci slowly turned back around, a horrid suspicion growing at the back of her mind.
The look on the coachman’s face confirmed her worst fears — she had done it again. She felt her face flush with embarrassment as she fumbled for a motive behind her silly declaration.
“You don’t carry a spare wheel, do you?” He shook his head. “Or a jack?” Amanda giggled again.
“My name be Jack, Miss.”
“Oh.” She now understood the reason behind Amanda’s humor, and while she might think it funny, Jaci had the distinct impression Nicholas would not. And there was no doubt in her mind that he would find out.
Fortunately, within minutes, Doctor Stillwell happened along in his buggy. He and the coachman unharnessed the carriage horses and tied them behind his buggy. With some juggling, he managed to load Jaci, Amanda and the coachman into the small conveyance. They arrived at Wildwood cold and wrinkled, but safe, and Amanda had yet another adventure to share with her friends.
Jaci helped Amanda wash up and change while the doctor visited with Nicholas. Amanda ate her supper in the nursery, and was content to go to bed early, exhausted from the exciting day at the zoo. She cuddled beside the stuffed elephant Jaci had bought her and quickly fell to sleep.
Jaci changed her own clothes and descended the stairs to dine. The library door, only partially closed, didn’t halt the flow of words as she came near. Nicholas’s agitated voice, however, stopped her on the bottom stair. Her palms turned cold and clammy, and her stomach turned over rapidly. She sank down on the steps, not daring to move, and yet not wanting to hear any more of Nicholas’s condemnation.
“It wasn’t enough that she asked if he had a spare wheel and jack, but to imply she would change the carriage wheel herself? Whoever heard of a lady saying such things?” His voice sounded incredulous. “Every time I think she’s adequately suited for this position, she does something very strange. Are you sure she’s recovered from her head injury?”
The doctor laughed. “Personally, I like a woman with spunk. She’s practical,
at the very least, and not prone to the vapors over the inconvenience. I really don’t see what you’re upset about, Nicholas. I find Miss Eastman quite charming.”
She had no idea why Doctor Stillwell rose to her defense; she had only known him briefly. She silently thanked him for supporting her, but gasped at his next words.
“I’ll gladly take her off your hands, Nicholas. I am looking for a wife and she—”
“No.” Nicholas’s answer was swift and adamant.
Her earlier discomfort forgotten, she rose from the steps, ready to confront both men. Conflicting emotions rolled around in her stomach. She felt shock at Thomas Stillwell’s declaration and annoyance at Nicholas’s high-handed attitude. What right did he have to say another man couldn’t be interested in her?
“Ah, is that the way the wind blows?” Doctor Stillwell’s voice again held a hint of humor.
What did that mean? She wondered.
Nicholas replied. “Perhaps I simply meant that Miss Eastman will not be free until I marry. After all, I need someone to look after Amanda.”
Now, what did that mean? Each additional sentence only confused her more, and she wondered if she wouldn’t be better off breaking into their conversation before one of them said something she probably didn’t want to hear.
“Of course, this conversation probably wouldn’t be taking place if Cameron would accept responsibility for his daughter.” Nicholas’s voice came closer, but Jaci couldn’t tear herself away from the banister to which she clung.
“Cameron still hasn’t decided to be a father, has he? Perhaps one day. Well, hello, Miss Eastman. Have you come to join us for supper?” Doctor Stillwell’s merry blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. She blushed, realizing he must know she had eavesdropped, however inadvertently.
In contrast, Nicholas scowled and his silver gaze flashed angrily in her direction. It appeared he was greatly disturbed by her earlier behavior. She never knew from day to day what he thought. If he kicked her out of his house, and Amanda’s life, she would be lost. The world was not as she knew it. Impulsively, she lied, for she realized she didn’t want Nicholas thinking poorly of her.
“I do apologize for my earlier behavior, gentlemen. You see, down south the roads are terribly rough and full of potholes.”
“Potholes?” Nicholas questioned.
“Chuck holes; ruts? From the war, you know — the cannons?”
Nicholas cocked a brow in disbelief. The doctor stood there and grinned. This was not going well. She didn’t want to compound her lie with too many facts about history she knew little about, but which these men had lived.
“Ah-hum. Anyway, the coachman began carrying an extra wheel, attached to the back of the carriage, in case one had a flat.”
“A flat? How does a wooden wheel become flat?” From his tone, Jaci thought the handsome physician was enjoying her discomfort way too much. He reminded her of some of the macho males she had worked with in the past. However, unlike the century in which she grew up, here she felt at a definite disadvantage, if for no other reason than she didn’t always understand the language.
“A break. I meant a break.” Enough. They either believed her, or they didn’t. She looked from one man to the other.
Thomas Stillwell’s expression was easy to read. He thought her wonderful and would believe she could fly to the moon. The one who mattered, though Jaci hated to admit it, continued to scowl at her for several seconds before his silver gaze brightened, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “The south must have changed mightily after the war,” he commented, offering her his arm. “They do seem to have acquired some strange customs, if Miss Eastman is a fair example.”
As close to acceptance as she could expect, Jaci graciously took his arm. She returned his smile, falling into step beside him despite the long dress and dainty, backless slippers which still gave her difficulty when walking.
Chapter Eight
Winter had set in with a vengeance and the latest storm continued to blow, rattling the windows in the nursery. Perhaps if a person were born and raised in Pennsylvania, the winter weather wouldn’t seem so bad. For Jaci, winter had always been a day or two of snow, perhaps a few weeks of temperatures in the freezing zone, but the rest of the time it was bearable, if not balmy.
She tucked her wool shawl closer around her as she stoked the fire. She shook her head, chuckling to herself. Not that long ago, she wouldn’t have known how to build a fire, much less have adapted to all the odd inconveniences of her new way of life.
In an effort to learn about her environment and not appear out of place, she had volunteered to do everything from washing clothes in a tub to going to the spring house with newly churned butter. Well, she wouldn’t be going to the spring house again any time soon. They could put the butter on the back porch and it would freeze.
She moved the toy box close to the fireplace and dumped the contents onto the thick rug. Amanda appeared content to build make-believe houses with her blocks. At times like this, Jaci wished she knew how to knit, for wool booties would help keep her feet warmer than the thick stockings she had donned this morning.
Curious, she bent down and retrieved a small carved animal. The miniature elephant had been sanded smooth and turned glossy from the natural oil in the wood. “Amanda, these are beautiful animals.”
“I have two of each animal. And this boat they all went on long, long, ago so they wouldn’t drown.”
“Ah, yes. Noah’s Ark,” Jaci smiled as she answered. She handed the animal back to the little girl. In their studies, she hadn’t thought to teach her any religion; she didn’t know if it fell within the realm of her responsibilities. Besides, she wasn’t sure if she believed in the Almighty anymore, and didn’t think it would be fair to explain such concepts to an impressionable five year old.
She closed her eyes, not able to stop the memories that washed over her. Flashes of times when her family had attended church and Sunday school, and Jaci had believed in all those concepts of goodness and righteousness. That was before the accident, when the Good Lord had seen fit to take Jaci’s mother away before she was done raising her two daughters. And Jaci, for one, still missed her terribly.
After the accident, she had refused foster care for herself and Mandy. Although Mandy was only twelve, Jaci was a legal eighteen. Now, as she wondered how Mandy was doing, she hoped she hadn’t done her sister a disservice. By living together and taking charge, had she adequately prepared Mandy to be independent and self-reliant? She certainly hoped so, because it didn’t appear she was headed home anytime soon.
She rubbed her hands along the arms of the rocking chair, the wood soothing beneath her fingers. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, for the first time actually studying the ornately carved wood furniture. It wasn’t only Amanda’s toy box, or all the wooden toys and blocks it contained. There seemed to be a uniqueness to most of the furnishings in the room.
“Amanda?”
“Huh?” The girl didn’t look up. Her tongue stuck out slightly between two pink lips. Jaci watched as she studiously placed one block on another, then a third on top of that.
“Where did you get all your toys and furniture?” She thought of Gustav Dentzel, and knew Nicholas was good friends with the furniture maker.
“Uncle Nicholas made it.”
“What?” That was impossible. Besides, she had been with him when he ordered the chest made for Amanda. The man had too much energy to spend such an amount of time carving little animals and fitting pieces of wood together to make a chest. Nicholas spent little time inside, even on the coldest days, and Jaci couldn’t imagine that energy confined to a small woodworking shop.
Amanda added a fifth block to her growing tower before answering. “Uncle Nicholas did, too, make it. A long time ago he gave me these animals for my birthday.”
Considering Amanda was only five, Jaci had to smile over her use of “a long time ago”. Still, if Amanda said Nicholas made these thing
s, she knew it was fact. She was impressed.
“Look, Miss Eastman, I made a sky scratcher.” Amanda said with excitement, calling her attention back to the stack of blocks.
“That’s skyscraper, Sweetie,” she responded, smiling at Amanda’s mispronouncement. Of course, she was happy that Nicholas didn’t hear, for she wasn’t sure the word was in existence at this time.
Jaci decided she might be warmer sitting on the floor beside Amanda. She gathered her skirts and slid off the rocker, crossing her legs Indian style beneath the piles of wool she wore. Idly, she stacked and unstacked blocks and other scraps of wood that Amanda used to create imaginary monsters. Without realizing it, Nicholas had provided his niece with the best learning tools possible — bits and pieces of wood — which allowed Amanda to stretch her imagination.
Jaci glanced down. While her mind had meandered, she had stuck small, notched sticks together to form what looked like an airplane with two wings. Idly, she moved her hand back and forth, making the little plane “fly.”
“What’s that?” Amanda scooted over and looked curiously at her creation. Jaci chewed on her bottom lip, wondering whether to talk to Amanda about airplanes. She wouldn’t have to say anything about the date the Wright Brothers flew, which was another thirty years into the future. Perhaps the child would think of it as a legend, like the ones she had told her at other times.
The clock in the hallway chimed the hour. “I think I have a good nap time story for you,” she said, struggling to get up from the floor without tripping on her skirts and throwing herself into the fire.
“Aw, do I have to take a nap?” Amanda argued, even though her eyes drooped and she yawned in the middle of speaking.
“If you want to hear the story of this, you do.” Jaci flew the little airplane under her nose, turning and pretending to fly it over to the small bed on which Amanda slept. “Quickly pick up your toys, or there won’t be time.”
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