by Rose Jenster
“You needn’t prove any knowledge of history on my account. I’m only a seamstress and not even that any longer. I’m something that’s come to your doorstep by the mails like a letter or a box from the lending library…slightly taller and more troublesome, perhaps, but a parcel nonetheless,” she said.
“You’re hardly a parcel! If I had found some catalog and marked out the specifications I wanted—her height should be just so.” He made a gesture with his hand to show her measurement, “and her hair in brown, her laughter just like that.” Luke continued, “I would have written out an order for you only I would never have got it so right. I never thought I might find anyone like you, so ready to love the mountains, to admire the sheep. I did, did I not, make you admire the sheep before I ever invited you to sit down?”
Tess laughed again exhibiting a hearty spontaneous joy.
“I have made you laugh twice now, so I may have passed my exam, then.”
“But have I? Is my height correct? My knowledge of sheep and trees and vegetable gardens? I studied you know, just as if it were for a school composition. I wanted to be prepared, to know all I could, so I would not be forever asking you silly questions. So I could be a help to you. I know all the principle types of squash and berries that grow native to Montana. Have you currants or thimbleberries? Thimbleberries are useful as a blood tonic as well as delicious in jams and preserves,” she recited laughingly.
“I’m not certain I’d know a thimbleberry if I saw one,” he said, “but you’ve certainly read well on the topic of local plants. You could probably beat me in a quiz. Would you want some tea now? Or some eggs?”
“If you’ll collect a few eggs from an obliging hen, I’ll stroll through your garden and see what I can find for an omelet,” she offered.
Taking a basket down from a peg, she went outside and filled it with chives, cress, onions, and peppers. Chopping those up with a ready knife, she added them to the egg mixture she contrived and set them to cook on the stove. Soon, the house was redolent with the savory smell, and she served it up on the pretty new plates that had awaited her arrival on the shelf.
“This is wonderful,” he said with his mouth nearly full.
They ate in companionable silence, and she asked him about different herbs he grew, filing away the information in memory so she could look at her recipes later on and see what might make a good dinner from his produce. Tess wanted to impress him with her cookery, with any skill she had or could acquire to secure his regard.
“Before we go back to the inn, would you do me one favor?” she asked.
“You’ve already met my sheep. What else could I favor you with?” he teased, and she smiled at his friendly demeanor…no longer feeling awkward and silent with her.
“Call me by my name, Luke. I’ve waited all these months to hear you say it,” she professed boldly.
“I thought I’d just call you darling,” Luke said in a voice so low and warm that it set shivers up her spine.
“Oh,” she breathed.
He took her hand and unbuttoned her glove, stripping it off her fingers so the air felt chilled against her damp palm. Luke took her hand in both of his and raised it to his lips, his mouth against her sensitive palm.
“Tess,” he said, his breath warm against her skin, “Welcome home, Tess.” He kissed her hand again.
“Oh my,” she said, eyes round with wonder as he replaced her glove as carefully as he’d removed it.
“Tomorrow night is a church supper. Will you allow me to escort you there?” he asked, “I’m told there will be an ice cream social after the dinner, and some of the lads will play fiddle for dancing,”
“Yes, please. I’d like that above anything,” she said earnestly.
Luke conducted her back to town with the promise to see her the following day.
Chapter 9
Together, she and Leah had baked a peach pie for the supper. Tess dressed with extra care for the evening, and Leah placed her sternly on a chair and admonished her to keep still while the curling tongs heated in the lamp. Horrified at the prospect of being scorched or blinded for the sake of a few frippery curls, she tried to resist, but Leah would not be dissuaded. Soon Tess found herself before the pier glass, her usual sensible knot replaced by an intricate arrangement of braids pinned back artfully and accented with tiny curls at her temples.
“You look lovely. If he weren’t smitten already, you’d inspire it tonight. Just take the opportunity of enjoying yourself and be merry. Nothing is so irresistible to a man as fun and a happy temper,” Leah advised.
“I shall try to bear that in mind. You know I don’t like large crowds, though. What if someone else asks me to dance?”
“I’m sure they will. You accept politely and dance! Let him see he’s a bit of competition for your regard…that never hurt a man yet,” Leah said mischievously.
“Oh, Leah, you sound like Jane!”
“There are far worse women to sound like, I say,” she said merrily.
Long trestle tables were set up outdoors and covered in oilcloth. One was laden with savory dishes from summer ham and sausage to fried chicken and gravy. Tess set the pie on the smaller table with the sweets and was sorely tempted to pinch off a crumbly bit from a lemon cake as she went by. She joined Leah and Mrs. Gibson who were pouring lemonade into cups. Mrs. Wilford from the dry goods shop joined them and admired her new sprigged lawn.
“Surely you didn’t make this up yourself? Why with that lavender ribbon lacing it looks positively European!” Mrs. Wilford enthused, admiring the special touches Tess had put on her new summer dress. “We could surely use a modiste in Billings. I know for a fact the mayor’s wife travels to Helena and beyond just for a decent dressmaker. Mostly homespun is all that you find here. It’s the peril of living in a boomtown, I suppose. No culture to speak of,” she sniffed.
“I’m hardly a modiste. I was only the shop seamstress for Mrs. Winthrop back in Albany. I constructed the garments and trimmed them. She was the designer, of course.”
“Did she design this with the tucks at the waist?”
“No, ma’am. I had been keen to try that, so I attempted it on my own dress rather than risking a customer’s disappointment.”
“I quite like the tucks. I’m certain Mrs. Rogers has told you of the arrangement I have with her….I’ll be quite keen to talk with you at the quilting circle this week,” Mrs. Wilford said cheerfully before moving on to instruct the men as to the proper addition of rock salt to the ice cream churns.
“She’s quite the entrepreneur. I ought to have warned you. She’s got the head of a true businesswoman,” Leah said.
“I felt that she was valuing my dress for the cost of the yard goods and the ribbon and buttons and everything.”
“She could probably give you a very accurate estimate,” Mrs. Gibson said with humor.
Tess took a sip of lemonade, cheered by the idea of having some sewing work to occupy her until—until she might be married, she supposed giddily. A crowd of children ran past, playing a game of tag, and Tess felt so young and happy—younger than she had in years—that she nearly raced after them just for the joy of it. Instead, she joined the queue for the supper and settled her plate beside Luke’s after Mr. Gibson gave the blessing.
“My mother and sister are here if you’d care to meet them,” he said.
“Oh, yes I would. Only let me finish my biscuit first. This jam is really---the best jam of my life,” she giggled, licking strawberry jam off the corner of her mouth.
“That’s my sister Aileen’s jam. You ought to tell her how much you enjoyed it. I’m afraid I’ve gone on about how well-read you are and how you’re a talented seamstress, and they think you’re terribly accomplished,”
“That puts rather a deal of pressure on me, Luke. I’m quite ordinary, though,” she said nervously.
“It’s time you met them. Come now, be brave.”
Tess took his arm and went where he guided her, to meet a pair
of ladies dishing up ice cream, one the younger image of the other. Both tall and dark with sensible cotton dresses and nearly identical knots of hair. The mother’s was shot through with gray streaks but was equally thick and shiny.
“Mother, Aileen, leave off your scooping and meet my bride,” he said expansively.
Several people in line for the ice cream stopped to stare at his announcement as Tess shyly offered to shake hands first with the mother and then the sister.
“How do you do, Mrs. Cameron? And Mrs….I’m sorry, I’m not sure of your name,” she faltered as she greeted Aileen.
“Hendrix. If my brother could manage a proper introduction, you’d know my name.” She elbowed Luke. “As it is, you’re to call me Aileen at any rate. We’re to be sisters after all,” she smiled.
Aileen’s dark hair and strong jaw showed a marked resemblance to her brother.
“You’ll be Teresa, then. Luke has spoken of nothing but yourself since he first received your letter. I wanted to write to you myself, but my boy thought you might take it amiss. And do call me Emmeline, child.”
“Then you must call me Tess. The only person who ever calls me Teresa is my mother and only then when she’s angry about something,” she smiled. “May I be of help with the ice cream?”
“I’m sure you could, but Luke wouldn’t like us spiriting you off,” Emmeline said with a twinkle.
The sound of a fiddle stilled the happy chatter all around them as women lit the oil lamps on the tables for light. Tess began to tap her toes to the catchy tune, trying to place it. She knew it was familiar. Looking at Luke, puzzlement in her face, she smiled as he nodded.
“'My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,'” he supplied.
“Thank you. I would have tormented myself about that all evening because I couldn’t remember the name of that song.”
“So thank me by dancing with me. Unless I’ve offended you by calling you my bride. I suppose I ought to have given you a ring first, asked you formal. As far as I’m concerned, the moment I got that train ticket I knew I would marry you if you’ll have me. Will you, then?”
“Luke, I’ve come here to marry you. That was the purpose of all of this. Right now, though, I want the dance you promised me. We’ll speak seriously later about our plans,” she said decisively.
“I’ll admit it was not the most romantic proposal. I’m sure I could do better if I take some time to plan—“
“Enough now. Dance,” she commanded with a smile.
The music changed as a piper joined the fiddlers. Luke swung her in his strong arms, and they moved down the reel, tapping heels and toes to the music. Tess could not help laughing as she hurried to keep up with the dance. Even Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had joined and there were fourteen couples moving down the line, laughing and twirling.
Tess was hardly aware of the crowd, her eyes riveted to Luke’s every move. She was impressed by the swift sureness of his steps, the strength in his hands and arms, the way he threw his head back and laughed when Tess missed a step, veered too close and accidentally kicked him in the shin. Everything about him was galvanic, like the shock she’d got at the telegraph machine they visited in school. Something like the suddenness of that narrow blue flash she remembered seemed to dwell within Luke, drawing her ever closer. Tess struggled to follow the dance, distracted as she was by his nearness. Everyone clapped at the end and then rushed to the lemonade table, hot and breathless from the exertion.
Three more dances and Tess was turning away partners laughingly, sinking onto a chair for a brief respite. She pushed her straggling curls back as they clung to her damp forehead. Luke brought her another cool tart lemonade, and she gulped it down gratefully.
“Walk with me,” he said, beckoning her.
Tess took his arm, and he led her away from the light and noise of the gathering, out beyond the buildings of Billings to a pocket of quiet in the darkness. She tilted her head back and looked up at the stars, gaping at their seeming closeness.
“It looks like I could stir them up with one finger, they’re so near. It’s hard to believe these are the same stars I looked at over Albany all those years, far away and pale compared to the gaslights. Those looked like grains of salt spilled on a tablecloth. They had nothing in common with these,” she subsided, letting the breeze cool her cheeks and neck blissfully.
Luke took her in his arms. She gasped, caught in the warmth of his strong arms and nodded in the infinitesimal pause before he kissed her. The soft heat of his kiss made her feel as though she were melting, and her arms went around his neck. Breaking the kiss, he embraced her. They stood in silence under the stars for a long time before she pulled away.
“When you told me we would talk seriously later, that was all I needed to say to you,” Luke said.
“I don’t suppose I had much besides that to say for myself,” she said with a shy smile.
Tess pressed her fingers to her lips and smiled, savoring the sense memory of his kiss.
“May I call you darling now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Darling, let me walk you home.”
“I’ll have to tell Leah that we’re going,” she said.
“I’ll wait,” he said.
She darted back to the social and found Leah with a sleepy Pearl nodding in her lap. Tess told her quickly that Luke was escorting her back to the inn. She rejoined him, and he took her hand. Instead of laying it on his arm decorously as he had previously, he held her hand in his, fingers laced together. True, there was more distance between their bodies with their hands joined than when she had held his arm in church, but it was unsettling, thrilling. It was both innocent and strangely intimate to have her smaller fingers tangled up with his calloused ones.
“I have the ring that my father gave my mother as an engagement present. I’d like to give it to you if you’ll accept it.” he said.
“I’d love that, Luke, but…did your wife wear it? Was it hers as well?”
“No, Willa chose an emerald. She preferred new things,” he said shortly.
“I’d like to know more about her, more about you before I wear your ring. I do mean to marry you but it feels…sudden almost.”
“We’ve exchanged letters for months,” he countered.
“Yes, but I only met you yesterday,” she said gently, “until then I’d no idea you had been widowed. It seems rather important,”
“It was a bad time,” he said.
“I’m very sorry to have to bring it up at all. What was she like…was she like me?”
“No, Tess, she was as unlike you as possible, I think. She played the pianoforte and did needlepoint and would not stir out of doors unless compelled. She sometimes said she ought to have been born a gentleman’s daughter in London like those girls in the Austen novels. She was graceful,” he faltered, his voice dropping a bit as he stopped walking and took both of her hands in his, “when she fell sick with the fever, I was certain it would pass—she was young and healthy, but I didn’t account for, for the delicate condition making her more vulnerable. In two days, she was gone. My life was gone. Everything of hers, from her pianoforte down to her last scrap of stitching, went to her parents. It comforted them, I think, to have her things. My house, my life—all of it emptied out seemingly overnight. What was I still here for? Everything I had wanted, I lost. I worked every minute just to fill the time. For years after that, I was afraid to hope for anything. Tess, until I got your letter, I was almost certain that part of me had died, too.”
Luke drew his hands from her, raked his fingers through his dark hair, and paced a few steps away to collect himself. Tears stood in her eyes at his admission. How tragic for him to have lost his wife and child, as well as his father, in a sudden plague! She reached for him and put one hand tentatively on his shoulder. She wanted to put her arms around him, but she felt shy, unsure of what to do.
He shrugged her hand away, and she waited, hands clasped in front of her, trying to hide her longing to reach for h
im again. She felt a pang as he withdrew from her and wondered if she would be able to overcome that loss, that wall he was putting between them. Tess knew a moment of despair then, feeling how vast the sky and hills were around her, how far she had traveled only to have this man she loved push her away. What if she had to use her return ticket and go back to working for Mrs. Winthrop and living at her parents’ house, hopeless in the knowledge that she had failed, been rejected and unwanted in a way from which she could never recover?
“I can find my way back to the inn. You needn’t continue with me,” Tess said.
Though the night was warm, she felt a shiver more of misery than cold as she started down the street alone. She heard his steps behind her but didn’t slow her pace to join him. She wrapped her arms around herself to block out the distress she felt—distress that he had belonged to Willa first, distress that he could not accept her comfort when he spoke of that loss, distress that he was not ready to let her into his life at all.
“Tess, wait,” Luke said.
She stopped but did not turn around for fear she would burst into tears if she looked at him. “I’m capable of finding my own way home. You seem to have no need of my consolation, no desire to talk with me about your past or your feelings. So I have no need of your help either!” Her voice broke into a sob.
“Tess, you have to trust me. If I’m to be your husband, you must put your faith in me and know that I will talk to you in time. I’ve told you I am not a man of many words…” he faltered, his frustration visible. “Go into the mountains with me now. I asked once that you have the courage to follow me. Follow me now. We shall walk to the homestead and get a lantern, and I’ll take you over the foothills where you can see the moon properly.”
“How will that help me to understand you? Or help you to share your sorrow with me and trust me?”
“Walk with me, please? It’s something I wanted to share with you anyhow. Do not tell me you haven’t thought of it since I wrote to you of my nighttime rambles.”
“I have,” she confessed. “I’ll need my cloak from the inn. And to leave a note for Leah that we are going. I do not want her to worry,” Tess said.