My irritation rising, I crossed my arms in front of me. “And why is that, d’ya suppose?”
“Because you intimidate all the young men here. They’re all just boys. They don’t know what to do with a young woman who knows her own mind.”
My jaw dropped and I stood there, mouth agape, unable to utter a rejoinder. Flustered, I threw my shoulders back and feigned irritation. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Harrison, I should see if Mother Elizabeth needs my help with anything.”
I’d barely taken two steps when Mr. Harrison’s fingertips snagged my elbow, and I was pulled gently back to his side. “Now I’ve offended ya,” he said in my ear. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent. It was a compliment.”
“A compliment?” I shook his hand from my arm. “That was the least flatterin’ ‘compliment’ I believe I’ve ever received.”
“Dance with me,” he said, his grin mocking.
I lifted my chin. “No, thank you.”
“C’mon, Miss Hastings. Just one dance. I don’t bite.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to discover what he was playing at.
“Simply a dance.” His voice, now softened, was almost a plea. “Would ya do me the honor? Please?”
“I—I’m not a very good dancer,” I admitted, my own voice now softening.
“And neither am I. I’ll tell ya what: you dance on the tops of my feet, and I’ll dance on the bottom.”
Surprised, I laughed. “Very well, then. But just this once—and only because ya said ‘please.’”
Mr. Harrison extended his arm then escorted me to the area designated for dancing. I wasn’t lying when I said I was a bad dancer. I was terrible; but dancing with Mr. Harrison made me feel graceful, even refined.
Dancing and talking at the same time proved impossible for me, but Mr. Harrison was a gracious partner and allowed me silence to concentrate on the steps. As the song ended, he escorted me to the refreshment table and offered me a glass of lemonade.
“I’d like to call on ya sometime, Miss Hastings,” he said over the rim of his drink.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mr. Harrison. But I do thank you. I’ve surprisingly enjoyed our conversation and the dance.”
“I, however, think it’s a wonderful idea. But tell me, Miss Hastings, why do you find the idea unappealin’?”
“Oh, I didn’t say I found the idea unappealin’,” I clarified. “I simply said I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Okay, then. Why do ya think it wouldn’t be a good idea?”
“Mr. Harrison, you’re an attractive man, and I thank you for your attention. And, while you’re considerably older than I am, you’re still young. You’ve lost your wife recently, and I’m truly sorry. But I’m guessin’ ya plan to remarry someday, and I have no wish to marry at all.”
“How very candid of ya, Miss Hastings.” His lips twitched, but he fought back the smile. “If you weren’t standin’ but two feet in front of me, I’d’ve sworn you were the young man and I the woman.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold back my own grin. “It wasn’t my intent to shock ya, but I see no point in bein’ anything but honest. I have no intention of marryin’, so there’s no reason for ya to call.”
“But I enjoy your company, Miss Hastings. Would you really say no to our becomin’ friends?”
“I’m quite sure ya have enough friends, Mr. Harrison,” I said, my own smile now mocking. “Now if you’ll please excuse me. Thank you for the dance.”
Mr. Harrison lifted an eyebrow, but took a step back, allowing my escape. “Until next time, Miss Hastings.”
CHAPTER NINE
TWO WEEKS AFTER JULIANNE’S WEDDING, I was searching for ripened vegetables in Mother Elizabeth’s garden when Mr. Harrison unexpectedly called upon me. I’d just pulled several tomatoes off a vine when Jacob, now thirteen, raced outside to inform me of our guest.
“Victoria,” he said. “Mama said to come quick. You’ve got a guest.”
“A guest?” I asked.
“Yeah. A gentleman’s come callin’ on ya. He brought flowers.”
“Flowers?”
Jacob rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Flowers! Now, c’mon. Mama said to come quick. The gentleman’s waitin’.”
I handed the basket of tomatoes to Jacob. “Would you please take these into the kitchen for me? I’ll be right behind ya.”
Grabbing the basket from my hands, he raced into the house.
“Don’t slam the screen door!” I called out as Jacob released the door, leaving it to slam against its frame.
Alone now, I brushed the dirt and dust from my hands and followed him through the back door and into the kitchen, closing the door gently behind me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I wasn’t sure why I was so anxious. I wasn’t at all interested in entertaining a suitor, yet a thrill of excitement and nervous energy raced through me.
Pausing in the kitchen, I wiped my hands on a damp dishrag from the countertop and smoothed my windblown hair with my fingertips. With no mirror handy, I studied the shadow of my reflection in the glass pane of the kitchen door. Deciding I was as presentable as could be expected on short notice, I pulled in a deep breath and followed the voices to the sitting room.
I recognized Mr. Harrison’s voice before my eyes landed on him. Seated to the left of Mother Elizabeth, he stood the moment I entered the room.
“Miss Hastings.” His eyes smiled as he walked toward me. “It’s lovely to see you again. Please forgive the intrusion; I was in town and hoped to find ya at home.”
“It’s no intrusion at all, Mr. Harrison,” I replied. “D’ya come to town often?”
He shook his head. “Not often enough, I’m afraid. I live about five miles northeast of town, over near Earl Sykes, and I don’t have nearly enough occasion to come into town. But I was here, and couldn’t resist stoppin’ in to say hello.”
“We’re glad ya did, Mr. Harrison!” Mother Elizabeth interjected.
My face flushed with heat and I cleared my throat. “Please—won’t ya sit down?”
“Thank you.” Instead of sitting, he advanced toward me and extended a lovely arrangement of wildflowers he’d been holding. “But first, these are for you.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said, taking in the delicate yellow petals of the black-eyed Susans.
“They reminded me of you, and I couldn’t resist,” he said.
My eyes flashed to his just in time to catch his subtle wink. Surprised, I stood there unable to form a reply.
They reminded him of me? Whatever does he mean?
I must’ve stood there too long without responding because I was startled by the not-so-subtle clearing of Mother Elizabeth’s throat.
“Oh!” My face heated again. “Thank you for the flowers. Please—let’s sit down.”
Mr. Harrison returned to the seat he’d vacated, and I selected another directly across from him, though some distance away. We talked briefly about the weather and the coming wheat harvest, when I remembered he’d mentioned living close to Julianne’s new husband.
“Mr. Harrison,” I said. “You mentioned living near Mr. Sykes’s homestead. Are ya near enough to visit with him and my sister often?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Our two properties are adjacent, with our homes not more than about a mile apart. Your sister was just by earlier this week to bring me some eggs. They have far more layin’ hens than they can use, so they bring me their extras so they don’t go to waste. In return, I usually send one of the kids over with a gallon of milk for them, since my cows put off enough milk for a couple families.”
“And how is Julianne?” Mother Elizabeth asked.
“She’s doin’ right fine, Mrs. Kirk,” he replied. “I must admit, marriage seems to agree with them. I don’t recall ever seein’ Earl happier, and your daughter seems happy as well. I think they’ve made an agreeable match.”
“That’s good to know.” She smiled. “We’ve yet to make the trip out there. Soon, I
hope. The house seems so quiet without her.”
“I’m sure it does.” Turning to address me, Mr. Harrison said, “Miss Hastings, I wonder if ya might take a walk with me? Maybe just a short walk down to Legion Park? It’s not far and, after sittin’ in that wagon for the drive on up here, I could sure use a chance to stretch my legs for a bit.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” exclaimed Mother Elizabeth. “Victoria?”
Caught between the two of them, I couldn’t decline; and, judging by the twinkle in Mr. Harrison’s eyes, he’d trapped me on purpose. I rose from my seat and graced him with an icy glare. “Of course—I’d be delighted.”
Mr. Harrison rose from his seat and extended his arm for my escort, then turned to Mother Elizabeth. “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Kirk. We shouldn’t be gone long.”
“Oh, please!” She waved a hand in dismissal. “Take your time, and enjoy yourselves! It’s beautiful out today! When ya return, ya must have dinner with us, Mr. Harrison.”
My body tensed. The last thing I wanted was to spend an extra minute in Mr. Harrison’s presence. I’d already told him I wasn’t interested in a suitor, yet here he was calling on me despite my wishes.
Sensing my reluctance, he shook his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but I must pass this time. I’m needed home in a few hours. Mind if we try for another time?”
“Of course.” Mother Elizabeth smiled warmly. “Y’all two take your walk and have fun. We’ll plan for another time.”
“G’day, Mrs. Kirk.”
MR. HARRISON AND I walked the four blocks to Legion Park without a single word between us. Though it wasn’t an awkward silence, it felt as though we’d left a lot unspoken. As we approached the park, I stopped and stepped away from him to put some space between us.
“Mr. Harrison,” I began. “I’m not sure what your intentions are in callin’ upon me this afternoon. Ya must realize you’ve placed me in a difficult position.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “What position is that?”
“Mr. Harrison, when we spoke at the weddin’, I assumed that would be the last time. I asked ya not to call on me.”
“No, Miss Hastings.” He shook his head. “Ya did no such thing. Ya only said it was a bad idea. On the contrary, I thought it was a wonderful idea.”
I blew out a breath. “You knew what I meant, Mr. Harrison. Ya must realize the difficult position you’ve now placed me in.”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“Then allow me to be more clear. Gentlemen don’t call upon ladies to simply be friends. So I have to assume you’re here as suitor, even though I already told ya I’m not plannin’ to get married. Ya must realize what Mother Elizabeth thinks!”
“Miss Hastings, you’ve said this before. What ya haven’t said is why. How is it that a beautiful young woman of your age isn’t interested in marriage?”
I tipped my chin up. “That’s really none of your business, Mr. Harrison.”
Any other gentleman would’ve allowed the conversation to end there and apologized for prying. Not Mr. Harrison; he wouldn’t stop until he had answers.
“You’re right. It’s not my business. But I’d still like to know. Will ya explain it to me?”
I looked away, my heart clenching. I remembered the love my mama and daddy had shared, and the way their spirits were broken by the loves they’d lost. “I prefer not to.”
Mr. Harrison closed the space between us and touched his thumb and forefinger to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Victoria, please tell me. I wanna know.”
Perhaps it was the softness of his voice, or maybe it was the use of my given name, but something in me wanted to share with him my greatest secret and the pain of my past. Not sure how to explain myself, I spoke slowly and considered my words. “Marriage needs love to be successful, and I don’t ever wanna be in love.”
I expected Mr. Harrison to laugh, or at least scoff at my words. Instead he narrowed his eyes. “Why not? Never is a very long time, and you’re still so young with so much life yet to experience.”
“Love makes the strong weak, and I refuse to ever be weak again.”
“Whatever gave ya that idea?” His eyes softened as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Love can be empowering. It can make ya feel invincible.”
“Maybe. But the loss of love can break the spirit. It can make even the strongest weak. I won’t be weak. I can’t.”
Mr. Harrison studied me a moment before replying. “You’re referring to your mama and daddy.”
Tears gathered behind my eyes, so I closed them. I had to gain control of my emotions. I hadn’t cried since the first few days after my mama’s death, and I would not cry now. Breathing in a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked directly into Mr. Harrison’s.
“Yes,” I replied.
Leading me to a nearby bench, he offered me a seat then sat beside me on my left. Taking both of my hands, he looked deeply into my eyes. “I knew your mama and daddy—both of ’em, though not well. I was a few years younger than your daddy, but my older brother, Atticus, was great friends with him when they moved here. Your mama was never a strong woman. She never should’ve been brought to such a harsh land. She was raised to decorate a sitting room, not suffer the hardships of this new state. She was delicate; like a gardenia—beautiful as it grows in the garden, but bruises easily by the human hand. When plucked from a bush, it wilts quickly. When tended carefully and patiently, it flourishes; but, if planted in the wrong soil, it won’t thrive. Your mama was much like that. She was a city girl from an affluent family, and wasn’t suited for the harsh life we have here. She required careful handling, and your daddy did his best. You, on the other hand, are like the black-eyed Susans I brought for you today. I said they reminded me of you, and I meant that. You’re strong, yet beautiful. Ya overcome adversity, only to be stronger for it. Like the black-eyed Susan, you can thrive in any soil. When the fields are barren, and no other flower will bloom, the black-eyed Susan rises from the earth and overtakes the barren land. You have that same strength, Victoria.”
“What makes ya believe that?” I asked. “Ya barely know me.”
“It’s true we’ve only just met, but I’ve watched ya from afar for many years. I remember when Mrs. Kirk retrieved ya from the home you’d shared with your mama and daddy. You were filthy and far too skinny, but I could see you were a survivor. You were only about eight and had clearly been on your own for several months, but ya refused to ask for help. You were too strong. Ya saw your mama die by her own hand, then your daddy’s self-destruction; but ya refused to be defeated. I admired the child ya were then, and I admire the woman ya are today. Adversity makes many people weak. You, on the other hand, are challenged by it. Overcoming adversity gives ya greater strength.”
Embarrassed at his words, I looked away. “Thank you.”
“I wonder, Victoria, whether you’ve considered that sometimes marriage is more than strictly about love. While love is important, I’d argue that mutual respect may be more important. Many great marriages have been built on less. But more than that, there’s a lot you and I could do for each other.”
I lifted my gaze back to his. “How d’ya mean?”
“I’m forty-one. I’m still young enough that I’d like to remarry and live comfortably with someone by my side. I have five children—two sons and three daughters—and I need help raisin’ them. My parents and sister-in-law live nearby, but that’s not enough. I need the daily influence of a woman. I need a wife to take my children, treat ’em with kindness, and raise ’em as her own. I need you, Victoria. I want them to have your strength and indomitable will. I need my children—my daughters, especially—to know they can make their way in this world, confident in the knowledge they determine their own destinies. I know ya can do that, because I’ve seen ya do that for yourself.”
“And these children of yours? How old are they? Surely they must be close to me in age.”
“Caroline, my oldest,
is fourteen. Olivia is next at twelve. Then come the twins, Joseph and Daniel, at ten; and, finally, Catherine is seven. True, you’re nearly the same age, but your maturity is far older than your years. I think you’d do us all a great service by settin’ an example for the girls,” he explained.
“And how would I benefit? I’m happy as I am. I have no children, and my only responsibilities are to Mother Elizabeth and Father Caleb.”
“Victoria,” he said softly. “Ya do understand you’ll be expected to marry soon, don’tcha? If your parents haven’t begun searchin’ for a husband, they soon will. Wouldn’t it be better to choose your own, rather than be forced to marry some man you could never respect? Would ya prefer a man who lies down and allows ya to walk all over him, or one who challenges your spirit and engages your mind? As my wife, you’d have the independence to do mostly as ya please—provided ya neither embarrass me, nor ignore my needs. I spend most days in the fields, as the farm is my livelihood. Once the needs of the home are met, you’re free to do as ya wish. As we’ve discussed, your sister is only a mile from me. You could visit regularly. When she begins her family, as I suspect she will soon, you can help bring her children into the world. You can support each other through difficult times.”
“I see.” I cleared my throat. “It seems you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I’ve thought of little else since meetin’ ya at your sister’s weddin’.”
“But why me? Surely there are others who could fill this position easily.”
“I’m sure there are, but I find myself quite likin’ ya. You make me laugh, and ya challenge me to stay on my toes. I suspect ya won’t take any guff, and my children would be in capable hands.”
“Children,” I said, thinking aloud. “What about children? Would ya require more, or are the five ya have already enough?”
“I hadn’t given that any real thought, to be honest. But, no. I wouldn’t require more children, but children are sometimes the natural consequence of marriage.”
“I see. But, as I’ve said before, I’ll never fall in love. I can’t give ya the love ya deserve, and I’m certain ya must want.”
The Edge of Nowhere Page 5