Daughter of the Song

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Daughter of the Song Page 5

by Eliza Tilton


  Mr. Barnum stood on a ladder, wiping his store sign with a rag.

  “Morning, Mr. Barnum!”

  “Good morning, Leonardo.” His black, twisty mustache wiggled when he talked.

  I held up his package. “You’ve got post.”

  His brows rose above the rim of his glasses. “Splendid! I’ve been waiting for this.” He climbed down and put the rag in his back pocket. “Come inside.”

  I took a mouthful of fresh air before heading into the overly scented store.

  Mason jars of all sizes covered the varying-sized high tables, surrounded by soaps of all colors, candles ranging from round and tiny to tall and skinny. Behind the glass counter, shelves covered the wall which housed the more expensive tonics and a tiny display of drawers packed with various herbs.

  On the counter sat a series of jars labeled with various animal parts in a strange amber liquid: falcon eyes, toad legs, rabbit hearts, and bats . . . I could’ve just come here for everything Shifty needed.

  “The package?”

  “Oh.” Snapping out of my stupor, I handed the package over to Mr. Barnum who stood behind the counter. “What’s in it?”

  “A very special ingredient.” He wiped his hands on the rag and gently unraveled the twine tying the package. “This is a very rare flower. It only blooms once every few years.”

  I leaned over the counter, thoroughly curious. “What’s it for?”

  The brown paper fell away, revealing a brown case.

  Mr. Barnum went silent, almost as if he was holding his breath in fear this flower ain’t what he’d paid for. He unhooked the locks on the case and took out a mason jar filled with tiny white-and-green flowers. “The Queen Andes. Absolutely magnificent.”

  He held the jar higher, turning it in his hands. “These flowers bloom on the largest bromeliad in the world and are only found in Peru.”

  “What’s a bromeliad?”

  “A cactus.” He put the jar on the counter, smiling. “It took me months to find someone who would travel there and bring this back, and quite a bit of coin.” He laughed. “But by God, they did it. They really did it.”

  “What’s it do?”

  “That is a very good question! And once I discover it, I will tell you!”

  “Wait, you spent money on a flower and you don’t know its uses?”

  Mr. Barnum took the jar and moved to the wall behind him. “An old healer told me a story about this bloom and, that in the right mixture, it can heal the most grievous of wounds. Almost like magic.”

  “Oh, come on, Mr. Barnum.” I wagged my finger at him. “You don’t believe in magic.”

  “No, but sometimes science and magic can be the same thing.”

  I shook my head and glanced out the window.

  A carriage stopped across the street at the general store, and a flash of auburn hair took my breath away. The man with Arabella stepped out and then walked around to her side to help her down. Wearing a lace dress with a matching bonnet, she was everything a man would want, and everything I didn’t deserve to have.

  She laughed, and her smile lit my chest on fire. She ain’t just pretty. Everywhere she walked, the sun haloed around her.

  “Ahh, Miss Grace is a fine young woman.”

  I jumped back, wide-eyed and speechless.

  “Why don’t you say hello?” Mr. Barnum leaned over the counter, clasping his hands.

  “No, that would be improper. She’s out and I’m just the son of a coal miner.”

  The smile faded, and Mr. Barnum left the counter to go into the back room. I gazed at the window, watching her talk with two women twirling rose-covered parasols. Part of me felt a bit foolish for leering, but I couldn’t control the need to see her, even if from a distance.

  “You may take this to her.” Mr. Barnum dropped a tiny package wrapped in brown paper and tied with black twine on the counter, his store stamp on top with her name on it.

  “What’s this?”

  “Her father asked me to make her a salve. I was planning to bring it by the post to have it delivered, but now you’ve saved me the trip.”

  My ears burned, and the twinkle in Mr. Barnum’s eyes set my stomach rolling. “I can’t just walk over.”

  “Of course you can. You’re the post.”

  I sighed and took the package. “Good day, Mr. Barnum.”

  “Try smiling when you deliver it.” He winked.

  The two women had moved on, and Arabella stood by the carriage alone. I thought of running, of finding someone else to deliver it. When we were in the mines, or by the waterfall, it had been just us, and she wasn’t so finely dressed. I examined my clothes, wiping off whatever dirt had managed to cling to my white shirt, thankful I’d at least cleaned my face this morning and the swelling in my lip had gone down a bit.

  Just walk on over and hand her the package.

  No one will think anything of it.

  She turned her head, right in my direction. Our gazes met. For the longest moment in my damn life, neither of us moved, and then she smiled.

  With my palms beginning to sweat, I seized that smile and let it lead me across the street to where she stood.

  “Hi, Leo.” My name sounded like heaven on her pink lips.

  “Good Morning, Arabella.” The package shook in my trembling hands.

  “What’s that?” She pointed to the parcel.

  “For you, from Mr. Barnum at the Apothecary.” I handed her the package, and our fingers grazed each other. I should’ve let go, but her touch had me frozen. Her soft skin heated against mine, and I didn’t want to break contact.

  “Thank you,” she said before pulling away.

  Say something. Anything. Don’t stand here like a fool.

  “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s well. Still a little upset over last night.”

  “And you?”

  Her gaze darted around. “Can I tell you a secret?” She inched closer to me, and I stepped back against her carriage. Her rose-scented perfume filled my nose and made me dizzy with her.

  “Sure, miss.”

  I stumbled over the formality, and her brows narrowed as if she’d been insulted. “Will you promise not to tell a soul?”

  I nodded as she pointed at me, her lips turning into a pout.

  “Good, because I found something in Mrs. Garrison’s garden.”

  The mention of Mrs. Garrison sent a shiver down my spine and snapped me back to reality. “You shouldn’t be digging around those grounds. It ain’t safe.”

  “Pish posh.”

  Her stubbornness could cost her everything. The only reason I knew the truth about Mrs. Garrison was because Shifty told me. “Something was wrong with that family. You don’t need that nonsense.”

  “I have to know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have to know why she disappeared and if it’s related to that passageway in our house. No one will speak of it.”

  “No, no you don’t. It doesn’t matter what happened to her. Mr. Garrison was a sick man. She probably ran away. Please, Arabella.”

  She hung her head. “I need to know it won’t happen to my family. I found her diary, and she mentioned something about the house.”

  My heart nearly stopped as I thought of Shifty wafting through that home, lurking in dark corners. With a streak of boldness, I took her hands and cupped them in mine. “I may not have money or status or anything, but I promise you with my life, nothing will happen to you or your family. I give you my word.”

  All the stumbling left my voice.

  Her bottom lip quivered. She lifted her head and met my gaze. “I’ve had many people make me that promise, and I don’t know why, but I believe it when you say it.”

  Being this close to her was wrong, holding her hands right on the street, yet I couldn’t break away.
The desire to touch her lips ran through me something serious, but a gentleman never kissed a girl out in the open. Those moments were private, special, and not for another man’s eyes.

  The carriage hid us from the bustle of the port, and even though people milled around us, no one came to this side of the street, leaving us alone.

  “Leo . . .” My name was a question on her lips. “Will you help me?”

  “Help?” My heart pounded again, and I stammered out the response. “With . . . what?”

  “Finding the truth. My brother and father would never agree, and I . . . I don’t have any friends here.”

  Her vulnerability tore me to pieces. Something told me no matter how much I warned her, she’d still go digging. Better I help her. “Of course.”

  “Then it’s settled.” She smiled at me. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at Mrs. Garrison’s greenhouse, and we’ll unravel this puzzle. Together.”

  Together hung in the air between us. She made me dizzy with all her talk and needs.

  “Together,” I whispered, trying to fill that word with every thought and feeling.

  Chapter 9

  Arabella

  The long lace sleeves hung past my hands, grazing my thighs as I walked. Mother commented on my stunning sunny-yellow choice, and I wondered if I’d overdressed for a simple afternoon in the gardens.

  I re-adjusted my bonnet for the tenth time and puckered my lips in the mirror. Mrs. Garrison thought of everything in her greenhouse, including a washroom. Sunlight from a tiny round window highlighted all the dots on my skin. The summer sun had reddened my cheeks, making my freckles more prominent than usual. I’ve always wished my skin resembled more of my mother’s creamy tone.

  “No reason to fret. It’s a casual outing with a friend,” I said to reassure myself.

  That is what I had told Father in a sense. I had invited Leo to the gardens because he had a similar affinity for flowers.

  Satisfied with my appearance, I walked toward the back of the greenhouse.

  Leo sat on the swing. When he saw me approach, he immediately stood and ran a hand through his moppy hair.

  “Your father said to wait here for you.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t think I had been in the washroom that long.

  An awkward silence stalled the conversation, and I sat on the cushioned chair by the desk before I realized where I had hidden the diary. I slid to the ground, and Leo moved aside.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  “The diary.” I reached under the swing, but the corset on my dress made bending the right way impossible.

  Leo squatted and reached out a hand. “Want me to look?”

  “Sure,” I said as I moved, bumping into Leo’s head. “Sorry!”

  He rubbed the side of his head. “It’s fine. Only broke half of my face.”

  With a few inches between us, I shifted out of the way. He leaned over, forehead scrunched in concentration, until he pulled back with the book in his hand. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you.” I took the book, and he grabbed my elbow to help me stand.

  I sat in the chair while Leo lay on the swing. The orange tabby jumped onto Leo’s stomach and circled around until he found a comfortable spot. Leo leaned back as I flipped through the pages.

  The last time I was here, I only read an entry or two. Skimming through the entries, most talked about the house, her flowers, boring, boring. I wanted to know the secrets and the dangers, her fears and worries.

  “Are you sleeping?” I asked, noticing Leo’s eyes were shut.

  “No, just relaxing.”

  “I didn’t invite you here to snore on my swing.”

  Leo opened one eye to peek at me. “I don’t snore.”

  I huffed. “You look like a snorer.”

  Now both eyes opened and he rolled onto his side, peering at me behind dark lashes. “How does one look like a snorer?”

  I closed the diary and placed it on my lap. “You can just tell.”

  He challenged me with a fierce stare. Our gazes locked, neither of us daring to look away, until he broke first into a laugh. “Remind me never to anger you.”

  I laughed with him, and my chest warmed. Months had passed since I had laughed along with a friend. “I think that’s a very good idea.”

  The tabby meowed, interjecting into our conversation, making us both laugh again.

  Leo swung his legs to the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Okay, Arabella, I’m listening.”

  With Leo’s full attention, I began reading the next entry.

  Entry 1863, Sunday, the fifth

  The Doctor visited us today, and the news was not good. I knew the cough plaguing me had gotten worse, but learning there was no hope filled us both with dread.

  Harold’s been talking about advanced medicine and herbs, but I’ve read the report. There is none.

  “What was wrong with her?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. They said she had some type of lung disease, not sure what, but Mr. Garrison spent tons of money on doctors trying to heal her.”

  I glanced at the Black Magic roses, wondering if there was any truth to their magical properties. “If she was sick, why did she run away? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Leo avoided my glaze, suddenly very focused on a loose string on the hem of his shirt.

  “Leo.”

  “Huh?”

  The innocent expression didn’t fool me. “You know something.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  I slapped the diary on the desk and scooted my chair over until our knees bumped. Leo’s gaze widened.

  “Yes, you do. Spill it.”

  When he didn’t respond, I pinched his thigh.

  “Ouch! What did you do that for?” He leaned back, frowning.

  “If we’re to be friends, then you must never lie to me.”

  He sighed but refused to speak.

  This time, I tried a gentler approach. I placed my hand on his knee. His cheeks reddened, and I made sure to ask nicely.

  “Please?”

  “What will knowing change?”

  “Everything.”

  “Okay, but you need to promise me something.” When he lifted his gaze to mine, I held my breath in anticipation. “Promise me that you won’t go searching anymore.”

  I pursed my lips, contemplating if I could agree to such terms.

  “Seriously?”

  “Okay, yes. I agree.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “You’re something special. All right, I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Arabella!”

  “Ugh.” I groaned at my father’s bellowing voice.

  Leo jumped to his feet, putting distance between us.

  Father walked into the greenhouse, waving. “There you are. Are you two enjoying the flowers?”

  “Yes, sir.” Leo bowed.

  “It’s time for lunch, and I’m starving.” Father wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Would you like to join us, Leo?”

  “Thank you, sir, but I need to get to the post. I told my boss I wouldn’t be gone all day.”

  I glared at Leo. He’s leaving on purpose!

  When Leo refused to acknowledge me, I knew he was being coy, but I wouldn’t let him leave so easily, not without sharing those secrets.

  “Father,” I said, giving him my best smile. “I’ll escort Leo to the gate. Would you mind finding fresh water for the cat? He’s thirsty.”

  “Oh, sure, dear. You two go on. I’ll meet you there.” Father kissed my forehead, and I smiled wider.

  Leo wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t exactly frowning either. I held out my arm for him to take, like a proper gentlemen, and he did.

  When we were far enough away, I asked him again. “Yo
u better tell me quickly.”

  “It’s a very long story.”

  I growled and Leo laughed.

  “What if I make a proposal?”

  With our arms looped together, walking through the flowers, a calmness cascaded over me. Not only was Leo being a friend, but I rather enjoyed his company.

  “I’ll listen,” I said, wondering what diabolical plan he’d concocted.

  We stopped by the iron gate, and he whirled me around to face him. “Meet me again.”

  The directness caused warmth to spread through my face and chest. Out under the sun, his hazel eyes resembled the beauty of autumn leaves. A stray brown curl hung by his cheek.

  “Where? Father won’t allow me to go anywhere by myself, especially with a boy.”

  “Can you come to town? To the Apothecary? I want to show you something.”

  For a moment, I lost my voice. Leo’s gaze roamed over me in a delightful way. “Very well, but only if you agree to tell me about Mrs. Garrison.”

  He held my gaze, dragging out his response. “Deal.”

  Father called from behind us, going on about the cat and the mess it made with the water bowl, but my thoughts stayed on Leo and the secrets we’d share tomorrow.

  Chapter 10

  Leo

  Mr. Barnum stopped writing and dropped his quill into the ink well. “You’ve been pacing by that window for over an hour.”

  “Just checking things out.” I slipped my hands into my pockets and pretended to watch the seagulls picking at the breadcrumbs on the street.

  “How did things go with Miss Grace?”

  Thinking of Arabella made me all sorts of happy. In a sense, I owed Mr. Barnum a thank you. If he hadn’t forced me to go give her that package, yesterday wouldn’t have happened. “It was good.”

  A carriage stopped across the street. This was the sixth carriage to stop at the general store today. A minute later, the side door opened and Arabella stepped out. Dressed in a fine lacy skirt and blue top, she grabbed her Father’s hand, smiling and laughing, her long wavy hair looking like a sunrise.

 

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