American Dream

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American Dream Page 22

by Colleen L. Reece


  “But I’ve been studying much longer than Evan ever did. He left Latin school when he was only eleven, and here I’m nearly thirteen.”

  “Evan continues to learn daily at the countinghouse. Your uncle Reuben says he’s learned not only the accounting but much of the overall management of the entire shipping lines.”

  “But I’m not Evan,” she answered quickly. Then before she could stop the words, she said, “Adelaide doesn’t work on lessons every day. Nor does Celia Winthrop.”

  Dr. Baldwin nodded in a knowing way. “I see. So, tell me, is it your intent to become like Adelaide Chilton?”

  Once again that strange sensation of confusion swept over her as it had when she was talking with Hannah. It was as though her insides were all jumbled up like the curdled milk in the butter churn. What did she want? She wasn’t really sure.

  When she didn’t answer, her father came to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “I propose a solution, Maggie. Your birthday is coming up near Thanksgiving time. I ask that you continue your studies until your birthday, and then we’ll discuss the matter. Is that agreeable?”

  Her father was always so kind and so fair. How could she argue with him? Part of her almost wanted him to get upset at her. “That’s agreeable,” she replied. But silently she wished she could rid herself of the constraints of the tedious lessons that very afternoon.

  “Good,” he said softly, planting a little kiss on her forehead. “You may work in here if you’d like. The light is better.”

  Admittedly, Maggie did love to be in her father’s study with the tall windows that looked out on Hannah’s flower gardens. “Thank you. I will.”

  “Now set right to work, for you’ll be needed to help Hannah prepare for our evening guests.”

  “Guests? Who’s coming?”

  “I told you the other day that Ben and Judith and the children are invited for supper.”

  “Oh.” Maggie fought to keep the disappointment from her voice. Only the Pierces. How she wished they could entertain important people.

  After her father left, she changed out of her day dress and returned to her father’s study to work. Sitting at his writing desk, she found herself staring out at the bright fall sunshine and the towering shade trees that were growing crimson and gold.

  Actually, she didn’t really mind Hannah’s younger brother, Benjamin Pierce, and his wife, Judith. Ben was funny and liked to joke about the fact that he and Maggie were both redheaded.

  “No one else understands us redheads,” he’d say to her with a big smile on his face. “We redheads have to stick together through thick and thin.”

  She didn’t even mind Ben’s son, Jacob, who was Evan’s age. But the three little boys, Adam, Burke, and Henry, all younger than Caleb, were regular little mischief-makers. And after enjoying high tea at the Chilton home, the Pierces seemed rather ordinary.

  Maggie struggled to collect her thoughts and concentrate on her lessons. Midway into the afternoon, she heard voices at the front entrance to the house. Daytime callers were usually for Hannah, but they called at the rear entrance. Who could be coming to the front?

  Hannah went scurrying past the study on her way to answer the knocking. Curiosity getting the best of her, Maggie replaced her quill in the inkstand and followed. When Hannah opened the door, there stood one of the Chiltons’ footmen, arrayed in his bright green-and-gold livery.

  “The Misses Chilton and Winthrop request your presence for an afternoon outing,” the footman announced, waving his hand toward the street. At the gate were Adelaide and Celia riding sidesaddle on highbred, prancing mounts.

  “I’d love to, but …” Maggie turned to Hannah, who was shaking her head. “I’m working on lessons.” The footman gave her a blank stare. Unaccustomed to such formality, Maggie came down the steps to the front stone walk. “No matter,” she said, walking past the footman, “I’ll tell them myself.”

  “Maggie,” Adelaide called out as she approached, “come riding with us. It’s a perfectly lovely day. And even though

  Johnson isn’t nearly as much fun as my brothers, we can still have a good time.”

  “Johnson could even help you saddle up,” Celia added. Maggie wasn’t sure whether to be proud or embarrassed, but she needed no help saddling Amaryllis. Her father had seen to it that she learned to tack her horse the same as Evan, and she’d never ridden sidesaddle. They didn’t even own a sidesaddle.

  “Thank you ever so much for thinking of me,” she replied, “but I have Latin assignments that must be finished this afternoon.”

  “Assignments such as schoolchildren are given?” Adelaide asked.

  Maggie flinched. “My father feels very strongly that I should never stop learning,” she said in defense. Even as she said it, she wished she could toss the lesson in the fire and jump on Amaryllis and ride away with the girls. What a fun afternoon it would be, talking and laughing together as they rode in the brisk autumn air.

  “I’m sorry you can’t come,” Celia said as she adjusted her forest green riding cloak about her. “Perhaps another time.”

  “Let me know in advance so I can get permission from Father.” Maggie opened the front gate for Johnson, who had followed her down the walk. He remounted his horse. As he rode a few feet away, Adelaide made a silly face at him behind his back, causing both Maggie and Celia to snicker.

  The girls urged their own mounts forward. “I’m not sure I could guarantee advance notice,” Adelaide said over her shoulder. “Celia and I are inclined to do things on the spur of the moment.”

  Maggie had no answer. Her days were spent working alongside Hannah doing many of the household chores. She couldn’t imagine going for a ride on a whim. “Thanks again for the kind invitation.”

  The two girls waved as they rode away, their riding cloaks glowing like spring flowers against the dusky fall foliage.

  With halting steps, Maggie returned to the house to finish her lessons and help prepare for the evening company.

  CHAPTER 4

  A Splendid Idea

  I’ve decided I’ll cut little pieces of soft flannel and stuff it in my ears,” Maggie said to Evan. She watched as he poured grain for the horses. She knew Hannah probably needed her in the kitchen, but she’d escaped for a few minutes before company arrived.

  “Are you saying you don’t enjoy the chatter of three little boys?” Evan asked with a chuckle.

  “Four, counting Caleb. And chatter is hardly the word for the noise they make.”

  Evan slapped one of the horses on the flank to make him move over. “Henry’s but a toddler,” he countered.

  “He’s learning to chatter quite well and will soon be taught plenty of mischief by both Adam and Burke.”

  Evan took the wooden hay fork from its hook on the wall and crawled up the ladder to the loft, pitching down loose hay stored there from the summer. Maggie stepped back to avoid a coating of dust on her clean dress. Their father loved fine horses and kept a stable full of them. Maggie’s delight was to assist with the spring colts.

  “Take care that you don’t say a careless word about the boys around Hannah,” Evan warned her. “She dotes upon all her nephews—Jacob included.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t do that. That’s why I’m talking to you out in the stable.”

  “Tell you what.” Evan descended the ladder and then leaped from the halfway point, hitting the floor with a thud. “I’ll suggest to Father that you and I and Jacob go for a ride following supper. How will that be?”

  “But there’ll be dishes to clean.”

  “Judith is always willing to lend Hannah a hand.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to ask or not?”

  Maggie wasn’t sure what she wanted. What she’d really wanted was to ride with the girls that afternoon, but it wasn’t to be. She walked over to Amaryllis and patted the mare’s soft nose and felt the warm breath on her hand.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Evan asked.

  “I wish people would s
top asking me that,” she said sharply and regretted the outburst the moment it came out. “I’m sorry, Evan. Hannah asked me the same thing this very afternoon.”

  “I can well imagine why. You’ve been acting differently the past week or so.”

  “Different how?” Maggie laid her face against Amaryllis’s velvety cheek. She knew she sensed strange things going on deep inside her, but she didn’t know it showed.

  “I can’t describe it,” Evan replied. “Sort of dreamy-eyed.”

  Just then, Hannah was calling from the dooryard. The guests had arrived, and there was work to be done. Maggie didn’t take well to being called “dreamy-eyed,” but there was no time to talk it over.

  “A houseful of Pierces” is how Hannah described a visit from her younger brother and his family. Maggie could tell from the tone of Hannah’s voice that she was proud of all of them. Since Hannah had never married, she enjoyed doting on Ben’s children almost as much as she did the three Baldwins.

  Hannah set a separate smaller table for Caleb and the younger Pierce boys in the sitting room. After Dr. Baldwin gave thanks, Hannah sat with the children periodically to keep order and yet served the others when needed. Maggie was thankful she’d not been asked to sit with the little ones.

  Father, at the head of the table, served up generous portions of Hannah’s delicious boiled beef and cabbage. Ben was placed next to Father, Judith was next to him, and then Maggie beside Judith. Evan and Jacob sat on the opposite side of the narrow dining room table.

  Little Henry sat on his mother’s lap to eat but kept hopping down and crawling back up. Maggie scooted her chair away so she wouldn’t get in the way. She wondered how Judith would ever eat, but it never seemed to bother her. Judith gave the impression of being the perfect mother, never getting riled or speaking a cross word.

  Ben, a lifelong friend of Father’s, served as editor of the Boston News Letter. Not only did Benjamin Pierce know all the latest news, but he loved telling funny stories. Maggie never saw her father laugh much until Ben was around.

  That evening, however, conversation turned to the Pierces’ church—the Brattle Street Church. “You really ought to come one time to see, Reidan,” Ben was saying to Father. “The changes in people’s lives are truly beyond description. The fervor for God is there, and we see genuine conversions among common folk of the city.”

  Judith agreed with her husband that, indeed, new things were happening at their church. Maggie was all ears. Especially when the word fervor came up. Could this have anything to do with the revivalists she’d heard about from Adelaide and Celia?

  Maggie glanced at Evan to gauge his reaction. She’d been meaning to ask him about the subject. Now she wished she had.

  Evan’s face told her nothing, and Father had put on his best “physician’s face” as Maggie called it. Her father often had to mask his true feelings when tending someone who was seriously ill. Evan mimicked it perfectly. It was a marvel to Maggie, whose feelings seemed to be spelled out plainly to everyone.

  Jacob, on the other hand, leaned forward and smiled. Maggie thought he wanted to say something, but he wouldn’t interrupt the adults’ conversation. As he leaned forward, he must have stretched out his long legs, for a sharp kick on her ankle made Maggie jump. Jacob immediately knew he’d kicked her. His legs were getting so long, Maggie wondered if he simply forgot how far they reached.

  Their eyes met, and Jacob straightened in his chair as his cheeks turned pink. “Pardon me,” he mouthed. Maggie nodded, then tried to concentrate once again on what Ben was saying about conversions. What was a conversion? Then she wondered why Jacob blushed at having kicked her ankle. She’d known him since they were small children, and he’d never blushed before.

  Just as the conversation was growing increasingly interesting, Hannah motioned for Maggie to come and help cut and serve the huckleberry pies. Caleb came tripping out to the kitchen as well, followed closely by seven-year-old Adam and six-year-old Burke.

  “May we have two pieces of pie, Hannah? May we please?” Caleb said. His voice all but drowned out the conversation at the dining room table. “We’re big enough to eat two, aren’t we, fellows?”

  “Yes, yes, Aunt Hannah,” Adam chimed in. “Two pieces.”

  “I can eat a whole pie,” Burke said as he strutted about.

  “Go back to your places and clean up your plates, or you won’t get even one piece of this pie,” Hannah warned.

  “If we clean up our plates, then may we have two pieces?” Caleb wanted to know.

  “Then may we have two?” Adam echoed.

  Hannah stood with a spatula dripping lavender-blue juice poised in the air. “The best way to find out is to obey. Get to your places this minute!”

  By now, toddler Henry was behind them. As they turned in their hurry to get away from the riled-up Hannah, they plowed right into him, knocking him to the floor. He set up a lusty wail, and Judith came to pick him up, cooing to him that he wasn’t hurt at all. By the time the pie was served and Maggie was seated once again, the talk about the Brattle Street Church was over.

  True to his word, Evan asked Father if Maggie could join him and Jacob in an after-supper ride. Father looked first at Hannah, knowing she would need assistance. But before Hannah could speak, Judith said, “Oh, let her go. I’ll help Hannah with the cleaning up. I’m sure Maggie did her share in getting supper ready.”

  Maggie gave Judith a smile. “Thank you very much. Father? Hannah?”

  “You have my permission if Hannah agrees,” her father said.

  “Go ahead,” Hannah said with a wave of her hand. “You missed one ride today. I wouldn’t want you to miss out twice.”

  “Missed a ride?” her father asked. “What ride?”

  Hannah bustled about, gathering the dirty plates to take to the kitchen. “That pretty young Chilton girl and the Winthrop girl came calling. With a footman, no less.”

  “Their footman?” said Ben with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “What’s this, young Maggie? Are you getting hoity-toity on us?” He put his fingers in front of his face as though his hand were a fan, waggling it back and forth. “Ta-ta,” he said.

  Maggie felt her face growing warm.

  “Now, Ben,” Judith said, placing her hand on his arm. “Don’t be a tease. Maggie can ride with whomever she chooses.”

  Ben leaned over toward Maggie’s father. “Better keep a close watch on her, Reidan. The next thing you know, one of those Harvard-bred Chilton boys will be getting sweet on your girl.”

  Now it was Jacob who spoke up. “Father,” he said, rising quickly to his feet, “that’s not fair. Come on, Maggie, Evan. We’re supposed to be taking a ride before dark.”

  As Jacob nearly pushed her out of the dining room, she heard Ben call out, “Sorry, Maggie. It was all in jest.”

  After hurrying to her bedchamber to shed her hoops and grab her hooded cloak, she ran out the back door only to be greeted by Caleb, Adam, and Burke all chanting, “Maggie’s a hoity-toity. Maggie’s a hoity-toity.”

  “Quiet, all of you,” she ordered as she lifted her skirts and ran past them. Thankfully, they didn’t follow. Perhaps she should have stuffed her ears after all.

  When she stepped into the stable, Evan was starting to tack up Amaryllis. “I’ll do that,” she snapped.

  Evan stepped back. “Just trying to help.”

  Maggie’s insides were churning, and her eyes burned. She wasn’t sure she could talk. “I know. I’ll finish.”

  “Come on, Jacob. She can do it herself. When the copper kettle gets steamed up, it’s best to clear out of the way.” With that, he led his horse out the stable door.

  When she was little, Jacob and Evan had delighted in teasing her about her Irish temper. Jacob was the one who started calling her a steamed-up copper kettle because of her copper curls. She held her breath, expecting Jacob to take up the teasing, as well.

  Instead, he came over and silently began to lend a hand, not giving her a ch
ance to protest. “Father’s accustomed to a houseful of rowdy boys,” he said softly. “He’s a wit-snapper with all of us, and we think nothing of it. Perhaps he forgets that girls are different.”

  He snugged up the girth while Maggie fit the bit into Amaryllis’s mouth and flipped the bridle over the long, soft ears. When they were finished, they led their horses outside. “Here,” Jacob said, “let me give you a hand up.”

  Maggie wanted to tell him she’d never needed a hand up and surely didn’t need one now. But he was being so kind, she didn’t resist. Evan was fairly well down the lane before they caught up with him. When he heard them cantering up behind him, he took off like a streak. The race was on!

  The three rode with wild abandonment almost the entire way to Boston Common. Down tree-lined Tremont Street they galloped, laughing and gasping for breath. The common, filled with evening strollers, forced them to slow their pace as they approached. In spite of the cool evening breeze, Maggie left her hood down where it had fallen during the wild ride. She felt better now, her anger blown away in the wind.

  “Let’s ride the perimeter,” Evan suggested. “By the time we ride all the way around and take a slow walk home, it’ll be nearly dark.” The other two agreed by falling in on either side of him, letting the horses lope along gently.

  Maggie happened to glance over at the imposing three-story Chilton house on the hill at the far side of the common. “Evan, do you think Father would consider purchasing a sidesaddle for me?” she asked.

  “Our tackroom is full of saddles,” her brother answered. “Why would he want to purchase another?” Evan always seemed to think in terms of money.

  “Most all ladies ride sidesaddle,” Maggie said. “Perhaps it’s high time I did, as well. Do you think he would?”

  “Why not ask him to give one to you as a gift for your birthday?” Jacob suggested.

  “What a splendid idea! I’m surprised I didn’t think of it myself.” For her birthday, surely Father would consider a saddle.

 

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