It Happened at the Fair (5 page)

With the completion of every sentence, the crowd punctuated it with thunderous applause. Cullen’s heart swelled with patriotism and pride.

“As by a touch the machinery that gives life to this vast exposition is now set in motion, so at the same instant let our hopes and aspirations awaken forces which in all time to come shall influence the welfare, the dignity, and the freedom of mankind.”

Securing the woman with one arm, Cullen whistled and whipped off his hat, swinging it in the air, just like acres and acres of like-minded citizens. A hundred thousand handkerchiefs appeared, fluttering in the breeze like a sudden fall of snowflakes.

With an exaggerated flourish, Cleveland pushed down the golden telegraph key and set off a chain reaction.

Old Glory, whose silken folds had been bound, whipped open to catch the razor-sharp breeze. A massive cheesecloth veil fell from a ninety-foot gilded figure of the Republic posing in the waters of the Basin. A halo of electric lamps illuminated her crown. Her uplifted arms held a staff of Liberty and an eagle with wings spreading over the court.

STATUE OF THE REPUBLIC

On the roofs and towers of the surrounding palaces, seven hundred flags and streamers unfurled in an explosion of color. Whistles of steam launches in the interlocking lakelets and canals drowned out the boom of a cannon aboard a man-of-war in the lake beyond the peristyle.

A flock of snow-white doves was set free to circle over the waters, and the national salute of twenty-one guns paid tribute to the occasion. The lilt of chimes from Germany’s building rode along the coattails of the breeze. Electric fountains shot streams of multicolored water high into the air, rising and falling, spinning and whirring, all in a lyrical dance of pink, yellow, sea green, and violet dewdrops.

Playing bass to this hallelujah chorus was the roar and hum of innumerable engines beginning to ripple throughout the grounds.

The crowd quieted, momentarily awed into stillness, before letting out a cheer that lasted minutes. Then, like a lightning bolt fracturing the sky, they broke apart and dashed in a thousand directions, hurrying to take in the wonders set before them.

The 1893 World’s Colombian Exposition had officially begun.

CHAPTER

4

Packed as they were at the hub of the crowd, it was going to be a while before Della and the man supporting her could move from their spot. And with each passing moment, her embarrassment grew. Propriety had had no voice when she was hemmed in on all sides and fear overtook her. Though she’d blamed her distress on her ankle, it was the other that had led to her panic.

But now that she was beside the press benches, she had much more room to breathe. Since she was on one foot, her rescuer circled round to face her, still holding her elbow.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Much better. Thank you.”

Rarely did she have to look up to meet a man’s gaze. But this gentleman was a good head taller than most, and frightfully broad about the shoulders.

“I don’t believe we’ve properly met.” His brown eyes took a quick survey of her. “I’m Cullen McNamara, of Charlotte, North Carolina. How do you do?”

She slid her eyes closed, then girded herself with bravado. He was simply a guest at the fair. It’s not as if she would ever see him again. All she had to do was pretend she hadn’t hurled herself into his arms and held on for dear life. Then, in a few moments’ time, she’d be free of him.

“How do you do. I’m Adelaide Wentworth of Philadelphia.”

Whipping off his hat, he released her arm and made a bow. No bald spot hiding under that hat. A head full of thick black hair.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said.

“And I, you. Thank you very much for coming to my rescue. I’m certain my ribs would have cracked in two if I’d stayed there another minute.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Warmth rushed up Della’s neck and into her face.

Biting his cheek, he held back a smile. “Perhaps a poor choice of words under the circumstances. I meant nothing by them.”

“No offense taken.” She scanned the crowd, trying to gauge how much longer she’d be stuck.

“Do you see the members of your party?” he asked. “If you describe them to me, perhaps I can spot them over the crush and call out to them.”

She cast about for an answer. He might be her rescuer, but he was also a complete stranger. So she didn’t care to tell him she’d become separated from her fellow coworkers during the madness. That would inevitably lead to more questions. And if he found she was an exhibitor, he’d most likely discover where she worked.

She could explain they’d all planned to meet other lodgers from their boardinghouse, but then he’d want to know which one and he’d discover where she stayed. No, the less he knew, the better.

“I’m afraid I was separated from my friends long before the crush began.”

He cocked his head to the left. “I’m sorry? You were what?”

“Separated from my friends,” she repeated.

“Did you have a rendezvous point, by any chance? Or a particular destination that was first on your party’s list?”

To lie or not to lie? Her father had filled her with all manner of frightful tales about unescorted women whom men preyed on.

“The Holland Mill,” she blurted.

“What’s that?”

“A replica of an Amsterdam mill from the turn of the century, where Blooker’s Dutch Cocoa Company serves hot chocolate.”

“Excellent. Where is it?”

“Oh, over that way.” She whirled her hand in a southeasterly direction.

He glanced toward the Agricultural Building. “Do you know exactly where? The fair is huge, over six hundred acres according to the guidebooks. ‘Over that way’ could mean yards or it could mean miles.”

“Farther than yards, shorter than miles.”

He cocked a brow. “You have no idea where it is, do you?”

She stiffened. “I most certainly do. You walk between the Agricultural Building and Machinery Hall, then on past the Stock Pavilion to the South Pond. And they have excellent cocoa, I’ll have you know. I’ve sampled it myself.”

Humor filled his eyes. “The fair just opened, Miss Wentworth. When exactly have you had time to sample the cocoa?”

She realized her mistake at once. Only exhibitors had been allowed entrance up to now. “I had some this morning, before I came to listen to the opening ceremony.”

He made no attempt to hide his smile. Deep laugh lines. Straight teeth. Sparkling brown eyes. The man was handsome in every sense of the word.

“I’m impressed,” he said. “A trip to the cocoa shop and a place at the front of the crowd. I had to stand in my spot for over three hours to secure it.”

“Oh, look.” She pointed toward the Manufactures Building. “The crowd is starting to move.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “So it is.”

“Well, I thank you again for your help, Mr. McNamara. I’ll leave you to find your group.”

He hesitated. “What about you?”

Alarm bells began to sound in her head. “Oh, I’ll be fine. Besides, won’t your friends be looking for you? Your wife, perhaps?”

“I don’t have a wife just yet.”

“I see. Have you no friends, then?”

His smile returned. “Nary a one. And I don’t know about Philadelphia, but in North Carolina we don’t abandon our womenfolk. We make sure they get safely to where they’re going.” He held out his elbow. “Shall we test that foot of yours or would you prefer I carry you to Blooker’s?”

The fact of the matter was, her foot hurt like the devil, and her other leg was becoming fatigued from supporting her entire weight. “I think what I’d really like to do is go to the Rolling Chair Company. I’m afraid I’m not going to get very far on this ankle.”

He immediately took her arm. “Perhaps a visit to the ambulance corps would be better.”

Allowing him to support some of her weight, she shook her head. “The women they’re attending are no doubt in much worse shape than me. I don’t want to bother them.”

“I insist.”

She hesitated. At the Rolling Chair Company she’d have a chair boy as guide and escort, so she’d have no need of Mr. McNamara. But with the ambulance corps, she’d be alone and he might very well decide to stay with her.

“No, really,” she said. “The Rolling Chair Company would be best. My friends will be wondering about me otherwise.”

“I’ll go tell them what happened and where to find you.”

“No!” She took a deep breath. “No, you’ve been inconvenienced way too much already.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, shall we go see what the doctor says?”

He took a step forward, then halted immediately when she took a hop.

“You can’t put any weight on it at all?” He looked at the hem of her skirt but of course couldn’t see her ankle.

She shook her head. “I’ve tried several times.”

Without a by-your-leave, he bent over and swooped her up again.

“Mr. McNamara, I—”

“No arguments, Miss Wentworth. It’s very possible you’ve broken that ankle. Now hold tight while we make our way to the ambulance corps.”

She frantically looked around, praying her coworkers had left. She had no desire to explain to them or anyone else what she was doing in this man’s arms—again. She needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

He maneuvered past a chair boy repairing a wheel on his now empty chariot and a couple studying a map of the grounds. When they reached the sectioned-off area for the wounded, he leaned over to place her in an empty invalid’s chair.

“No, no.” She stiff-armed the side of the chair. “No need to put me in one of these. I’m not an invalid, I just have a bruised ankle.”

He straightened, still holding her in his arms, his face very close. A whiff of his mint shaving soap touched her nose.

“That’s what the chairs are for,” he said. “People who, for whatever reason, can’t stand on their own two feet.”

“Just put me on the ground, Mr. McNamara. I’ll be the judge of what I can and cannot do.”

After a slight hesitation, he put her down. She grabbed the handle of the invalid’s chair for support.

“I’m going in search of a nurse,” he said. “If you get tired, sit down.”

She watched him weave through women on stretchers and children on pallets before he flagged down a nurse. No sign of anyone she knew, thank goodness.

Moments later, he returned to her. “You may have to wait here a while. They’re awfully busy. But that’s probably just as well. It will give me time to get to Blooker’s, tell your friends where to find you, then bring them back. Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”

“Quite.”

He sighed. “Very well, then. What do your friends look like?”

Warmth filled her cheeks again. “Really, you needn’t—”

“No arguing. They must be beside themselves with worry.”

She swallowed, trying to decide if she should continue pretending or tell him the truth. Would a nefarious man offer to go collect her friends for her? But if she told him the truth, she sensed she’d never be free of him.

Men are wily creatures, her father had said. Just because they look respectable doesn’t mean they are. You must be on your guard every moment.

“How many are in your party?” he asked.

Though there had been three of them, she decided to round up. “Four.”

“You and three more women?”

As long as she was padding her story, perhaps she should add some men to the mix as well. “Um, men.”

His brows shot up. “You’re here with three men?”

She flushed. Maybe she’d overshot it a bit. “No . . . yes. I mean, two men, one woman.”

His expression began to cloud. “Those men left you alone? In a crowd this size?”

Oh, crumbs. She hadn’t thought of that. Sighing, she rubbed her head. What a tangled mess. “Our separation was my fault, I’m afraid. I was, um, late finishing my cocoa and I was supposed to catch up with them. But the truth is, I didn’t count on all these people—none of us did. Anyway, I never did find them. That’s why I made my way to the front. I was looking for them.” She blinked, impressed with her ability to fabricate a somewhat coherent tale on such short notice.

Unfortunately, he grew more fierce. “That is no excuse whatsoever. They never should have left you. Period.”