A Hearth in Candlewood (27 page)

‘‘Mr. Adams has a gentle mount for me, and Opal and Garnet will be with me. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I have a good mind. Once I’ve learned something, like how to ride a horse, I’m not apt to forget it.’’

Mother Garrett patted her shoulder. ‘‘That’s true. You’re a very bright woman. I’m sure you’ll remember how to ride, just like I’m sure you’ll remember this ride with Opal and Garnet as a special, special day, assuming you find something appropriate to wear,’’ she crooned.

Emma had the distinct impression Mother Garrett was being just a tad patronizing and narrowed her gaze. ‘‘I think I’ll go check on Aunt Frances now,’’ she said and slipped from the room.

On her way upstairs, she prayed for four things. First, that the chicken who had claimed the patio would be off that same patio by morning. Second, that Aunt Frances would miraculously finish a riding skirt for her before bedtime. Third, that she might learn something on her ride that would help her to resolve the Leonard brothers’ squabble should they need her help. And fourth, that she would return from her ride tomorrow with enough praises from Opal and Garnet about her riding ability to make Mother Garrett’s words ring true.

And she had every faith her prayer would be answered.

28

E
MMA WOKE UP EARLY
Tuesday morning after a fitful sleep and knelt at her bedside. Her prayer of gratitude for no longer having the chicken on the patio was sincere, but the one she offered for the riding skirt Aunt Frances had finished just before Emma had gone to bed was halfhearted.

She got to her feet, stared at the dark purple sweater, matching blouse, and the riding skirt Aunt Frances had made, and frowned. In truth, she favored the blouse and sweater. To get the purple color that deep, Mother Garrett had saved sugarloaf wrappers for a good while. Emma smiled. Her mother-in-law’s hands had been stained purple for weeks, and she’d vowed never to use those wrappers again.

The thought of wearing the striped silk brocade riding skirt— even behind her closed bedroom door, let alone parading on horseback down Main Street—made her shudder. ‘‘Even with Opal and Garnet beside me, I’d draw fewer stares if I wore men’s trousers,’’ she grumbled, fully aware that Zachary Breckenwith would no doubt have more than a few words to say about the gossip sure to follow. Dressing quickly, she re-braided her hair and pinned it atop her head. She grabbed the straw farmer’s hat Opal had bought for her at the General Store, plopped it on, snatched a pair of leather gloves, and left her room.

She did not bother to check her appearance in the mirror. If she had, she might have changed her mind about not disappointing Aunt Frances, climbed back under the covers, and feigned illness to avoid being seen in this outrageous skirt, a tactic her lawyer would probably fully endorse.

Instead, she proceeded to go downstairs. When she entered the kitchen, she found Mother Garrett and Aunt Frances at the kitchen table and wished them a good morning but saw no sign of the picnic basket or the Mitchell sisters.

‘‘They’re waiting for you on the patio. Opal has one basket with breakfast inside, and Garnet has the basket with dinner,’’ Mother Garrett offered, as if reading Emma’s mind. ‘‘It’s not too late. You can still change your mind about going riding.’’

‘‘Not after all the work Aunt Frances did on my riding skirt. Thank you again, Aunt Frances. The skirt fits well and it really . . . swooshes when I walk,’’ she replied, grateful to have two honest compliments to offer. In point of truth, she rather enjoyed the freedom of having no petticoats beneath the slim riding skirt, but she kept that notion to herself.

Aunt Frances beamed. ‘‘I’m so excited that you’re pleased with it. You know, I’m almost glad that chicken ruined the brown fabric. You look so much prettier with a touch of lighter colors.’’

A touch? It was difficult for Emma to think of the garish, shimmering fabric that covered her from waist to toe as anything other than a huge nightmare that promptly stifled any urge to defy convention once in a while. A bizarre image of the guest who had worn a full costume made from this fabric formed in her mind’s eye, and she quickly shuttered that memory. ‘‘I’m just glad the chicken is gone. I hope you secured the gate after carrying the chicken back down to the woods.’’

‘‘It’s secure. I checked it again before I went to bed,’’ Mother Garrett insisted. ‘‘By now that chicken should be long gone, off looking for other chickens.’’

Aunt Frances nodded. ‘‘Most likely.’’

Relieved that one of her prayers had been answered, Emma said her farewells. When she reached the patio, she saw the two picnic baskets sitting on top of the back stone wall and the sisters standing next to them, gazing down the hillside.

They turned around as she approached, and the sunlight caught the pins they wore so Emma could easily tell them apart. Almost simultaneously, the sisters’ eyes bulged, and Emma put a finger to her lips. ‘‘Not a word. Not one. Not a giggle, either,’’ she warned in as loud a whisper as she dared.

Each sister clapped a hand to mouth and nodded, but that still could not stop the tears of laughter that escaped.

‘‘I know, I know. . . . It’s awful. But Aunt Frances worked very hard to make this for me, and we can’t offend her.’’

Garnet was the first to break her silence. ‘‘You look like you’re dressed to join a traveling circus or a theater troupe.’’

‘‘All you need is some sort of silly cap,’’ Opal whispered.

‘‘In point of fact, one of my guests was part of a theater troupe, but she was leaving that life. This came from the costume she left behind. If I’m not mistaken, I believe there is a rather silly-looking bonnet still in the trunk in the garret. So . . .’’ She sobered. ‘‘Do you still want me to go riding with you?’’

‘‘Of course!’’

‘‘Absolutely!’’

Convinced she was about to endure one of the most humbling moments of her life, Emma let out a deep sigh. ‘‘The sooner we leave, the sooner I can be off Main Street and disappear into the woods.’’

Garnet grinned. ‘‘We’re not using Main Street today.’’

‘‘But the livery is at the south end of Main Street.’’

‘‘True, but we’re heading north today for a change, so Mr. Adams brought the horses here. They’re tied up right behind the gazebo. See?’’ Opal pointed toward the woods. ‘‘If we ride single file at first, we can follow the path through the woods, cross the main roadway, and ride along the Candlewood Canal a ways before crossing over. If I’m not mistaken, it’s only a mile or two. From there, we were hoping to . . .’’

While Emma was relieved to avoid parading down Main Street, she found she could not really concentrate on Opal’s words, for she was staring too hard at the gazebo. Shocked speechless, she pointed and eventually managed to give voice to her words. ‘‘That . . . what are those . . . purple stains on this side of the gazebo?’’

Garnet took a look. ‘‘What a pity. That’s probably from the mulberries. But don’t worry. The season for them is done. There can’t be much of them left.’’

‘‘Most likely,’’ Opal agreed.

‘‘B-but you planted the mulberry trees behind the gazebo, not on the side. How could the mulberry stains be on this side, and what would smash the berries up against the gazebo like that?’’ Emma countered. ‘‘I hope this isn’t some sort of prank.’’

Garnet redirected Emma’s attention. ‘‘Look—on the gazebo steps. There’s your culprit.’’

Emma took one look and stiffened as the renegade chicken maneuvered itself into the gazebo, up onto the benches, and finally along the railing edge on the side of the gazebo, where it set itself to roost. She ground her teeth together when the chicken’s purple droppings hit the side of the gazebo.

Opal and Garnet both started giggling.

‘‘That gazebo makes for the prettiest chicken coop. It’s the mulberries, all right,’’ Opal managed.

‘‘Pigs and chickens just love them,’’ her sister said. ‘‘I’ve heard some farmers even plant mulberry trees to feed their stock, although most of the trees are going to nurseries these days. The demand from farmers turning to the silk industry is really growing.’’

‘‘That’s because silkworms love mulberries, too,’’ Opal explained.

‘‘I don’t know much about chickens and their habits,’’ Garnet observed, ‘‘but I’ve also heard they make good pets. Maybe the chicken has adopted you instead of the other way around. It sure seems to like being here.’’

‘‘Back home, Mrs. Billings had a pet chicken once. Don’t you remember, Garnet?’’

‘‘Oh, that’s right! She had the sweetest little chicken. It would eat right out of our hands. It followed her all around the yard, too. She even had a little shed built just for . . . What was that chicken’s name?’’

‘‘No more talk about chickens—as pets or otherwise,’’ Emma grumbled. ‘‘Yesterday I prayed for the chicken to leave the patio. This time, I’ll be more specific and ask for the chicken to leave my property. I’m even going to add pigs to my prayers, just to be sure there’s no misunderstanding should a wagonload of swine spill out onto Main Street and a renegade pig finds its way here for those mulberries.’’

She turned and grabbed the baskets. ‘‘Shall we go?’’ Emma asked, silently whispering her prayer, hoping the answer would be more akin to her liking than to His.

————

At the end of their outing, Emma rode back up the path through the woods behind Hill House wearing a grin that almost stretched from ear to ear.

After an hour or so astride, she had felt as comfortable and as confident as she had thought she would be. They had stopped for a bite of breakfast and dinner but otherwise traveled the rest of the day through woodlands and farmlands, some of which Emma had inherited. They were too busy chatting and laughing together to bother dismounting when resting their horses or pausing at creeks and streams for their horses to drink.

She set aside her disappointment that her prayer about learning something that might help her with the Leonards’ squabble had gone unanswered, but Emma was almost giddy knowing she had proven Mother Garrett’s patronizing words to be true. This had been a very, very special day she would long remember.

As planned, she reined up at the edge of the woods, dismounted, and handed her reins to Opal, who insisted on taking the horses back to the livery with Garnet.

Opal looked down at her and frowned. ‘‘As well as you did today, you’re not as used to riding as we are, especially for so long. Are you sure you’ll be able to get back to the house all right?’’

Emma widened her grin. ‘‘I feel terrific. When you come back, you’re both going to tell Mother Garrett how well I did, aren’t you?’’

Both sisters nodded.

‘‘Good. I’ll have plenty of fresh water ready in your rooms so you can wash up.’’

‘‘Watch out for that chicken,’’ Garnet teased before she and her sister turned around and led Emma’s horse away.

Emma watched them until they reached the main roadway and turned south before she headed back to the house. She managed only a step or two before she realized she had been astride for so long, she did not quite have her equilibrium back. She held still for a moment, took a few tentative steps, and felt her back and leg muscles protest.

She dismissed the first few twinges as normal but worked the muscles in her hands and arms as she started walking slowly toward the house. She passed by the gazebo without sighting the chicken and made a mental note to speak with Aunt Frances again.

If Aunt Frances would agree to find the chicken again at dusk when it was sleepy, Emma would also ask her to solve the problem of that chicken once and for all. If not tomorrow, someday soon there would be chicken stew simmering on Mother Garrett’s cookstove.

Tough or not, Emma was going to savor every single bite.

29

U
NFORTUNATELY,
M
OTHER
G
ARRETT
had been right.

Again.

Emma could not soon forget her day of riding with Opal and Garnet, even if she tried. Even two days later, every muscle, every bone in her body still ached. She was finally able to braid her hair on the first attempt today without too much pain. Bumping along in the buggy with the two sisters to see them off on the morning packet, however, was only slightly more bearable than the glint of amusement in Mother Garrett’s eyes—a glint that showed no signs of disappearing in the near future.

Emma waited on the landing until the rest of the passengers boarded the packet boat. Once Opal and Garnet climbed up to the cabin roof, they started waving good-bye with their handkerchiefs from Aunt Frances. Emma instinctively responded with a hearty wave.

‘‘We’ll be back in the spring when the tulips bloom,’’ Opal cried. ‘‘Tell Mr. Breckenwith we hope to see him then.’’

‘‘And tell Reverend Glenn we’ve decided to give our crosses to our parents and ask him to make two more for us,’’ Garnet said as the packet boat moved away from the landing.

‘‘I will,’’ Emma promised. She carefully offered a final wave good-bye and struggled against the fear that when the Mitchell sisters returned in the spring, Emma might no longer be at Hill House. With a weary heart, she started the long, painful walk toward home, but by walking slowly and stretching her leg muscles very gently, she found the more leisurely pace almost enjoyable.

By midmorning, Candlewood was bustling with activity. One wagon after another, and occasionally a single rider, traveled up and down Main Street. Other wagons were still parked the length of Canal Street, waiting to carry away the merchandise and livestock arriving on freight barges or to deliver goods being shipped east to New York City via the Erie Canal.

She eased her way along the planked sidewalk and managed her way through the shoppers traveling in and out of stores and around the workmen beginning construction today on a clock that would stand in front of town hall.

On a whim she turned off Main Street onto Coulter Lane. With her meeting with Mr. Langhorne only days away, she stopped at Mr. Breckenwith’s to see if he had returned from his trip. When Jeremy answered her knock, his cheeks flushed the moment he recognized her. Relieved to find that her lawyer had indeed returned, she followed Jeremy as he escorted her directly to his mentor’s cluttered office before he promptly disappeared.