Read Just Above a Whisper Online

Authors: Lori Wick

Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #New England, #ebook, #Bankers, #Fiction, #Romance, #Women Household Employees, #Indentured Servants, #Historical Fiction, #Housekeepers, #General, #Religious, #Women Domestics, #Love Stories

Just Above a Whisper (7 page)

BOOK: Just Above a Whisper
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“Not afraid, but certainly not sure of anything.”

“Have you ever seen your papers? Do you know what to expect?”

“I did see them one time, but not to read.” She made a face. “By the time I realized I should know what they said, my father was gone. I shouldn’t have been such a chicken.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I never asked to see them because I feared angering Mr. Zantow.”

The doctor nodded in understanding and asked, “Do you own anything in this house?”

“A few items in my room, but nothing of value.”

“Will you try to find work and stay in Tucker Mills?”

“That’s exactly what I’ll do. I don’t know if anyone will hire me, or if I will be able to make enough to live on. I just know that I don’t wish to be indentured any more.”

“I don’t think it will come to that,” Doc MacKay reassured her. “Don’t forget, you have the church family.”

Reese smiled at him, her heart taking comfort in the reminder. She didn’t know what the future would bring, but she could trust that God had a plan. She could also thank Him for saving her and putting her with a church family that loved her unconditionally.

 

Three

The viewing was not largely attended. Mr. Zantow did work for many people, but he did not have a great many friends. Reese had sat by her father’s casket in this same living room, but she did not sit next to Mr. Zantow’s coffin. He was not family, and she felt to do so would give a false impression of their relationship. She had discussed her decision with Doc MacKay and Douglas, and they both agreed that it was a wise one.

But Reese was in the house. She greeted people who came in the door and thanked them when they spoke kind words. What she hadn’t expected was the outpouring of good wishes directed toward herself.

You’ve deserved better all these years, Reese
.

He didn’t know how good he had it
.

You’re a good girl, Reese
.

I hope whatever you do now, you’ll be happy
.

And on it went for more than an hour. The townsfolk came, said very little about Mr. Zantow, save how good he was at his craft, and then turned their attention to Reese, whom they thought so much of.

When it was time for the coffin—one that Mr. Zantow himself had made—to be loaded onto the wagon that would go to the cemetery, Reese found herself mostly surrounded by her church family. Mrs. Greenlowe was also in attendance, as were Jace and Maddie Randall.

The Reverend Mr. Sullins, who held Sunday services in the Commons Meetinghouse, had come to read a passage of Scripture. He talked about Mr. Zantow a little, even mentioning some things that Reese did not know.

No one lingered at the gravesite. When the reading was done, Reese threw a handful of dirt on top of the coffin, her heart sad that his life had ended so abruptly and with little interest in godly things.

The Peternell family was waiting nearby. They asked Reese to join them for dinner. Reese was all too glad to accept. She walked back to town with them, glad that for the moment she didn’t have to return to the house.

 

“Can we set up an appointment with you?” Jace asked of Douglas. They had left the cemetery and were headed for town. Jace and Maddie had brought a buggy into town, but they’d left it at the Zantow house.

“Certainly,” Douglas replied. “What time is good for you?”

“We wanted you to tell us that. I’ve been stopping by with little regard for your schedule and family. Even talking to you today, when a man’s just been buried …” Jace halted, clearly uncomfortable to go on.

“You haven’t been disruptive at all,” Douglas reassured him. “I can meet with you right now if you like.”

“Join us for dinner,” Alison put in, walking beside her spouse, his hand holding hers.

“Are you sure?” Maddie checked.

“Yes, please come.”

Jace looked down into his wife’s face. He didn’t want to go another day with questions burning through him, and from what he knew of the Muldoons, they wouldn’t mind having them again. The Randalls thanked them for the offer and returned to the Zantow house only to move their buggy to the Muldoons. They ended up staying for several hours.

 

Mr. Victor Jenness had seen better times. He was not an old man, but neither was he young or in the best of health. And since he managed the bank and was not at the counter daily dealing with bank patrons, he was often able to hide this.

However, he did know what went on all over town, and news of Mr. Zantow’s demise reached his ears even before the bells rang. It was for this reason that he sent for Reese the very day after Mr. Zantow was interred.

Reese was at home when a young man came with a missive for her, a small bit of paper folded in half, asking her to present herself to Mr. Jenness, the bank manager, as soon as she could arrange it.

Reese had no reason to delay. She had assumed the house would be sold and had been doing some extra cleaning, but as soon as she brushed her hair and washed her face and hands, she left for the bank. She wasn’t nervous, but curiosity propelled her straight to the building, where she stepped inside and found Mr. Leffler, the bank teller. He smiled at Reese and greeted her by name. Reese had no money in the bank, but errands she had run for Mr. Zantow over the years had brought her to this building on many occasions, where she always found Mr. Leffler extremely kind.

“Mr. Jenness sent for me, Mr. Leffler. Is he in?”

“In his office, Reese. You can go right ahead.”

The office was not a separate room, but a large space off the main floor. The furniture was set up in such a way that privacy could be had. Reese stepped around a tall bookshelf to find Mr. Jenness at his desk.

“Mr. Jenness?”

“Ah, yes,” he greeted. “Sit down, Miss Thackery.”

Reese began to relax. Few people addressed her as Miss Thackery, but he sounded as though he was pleased. She hoped he could direct her concerning Mr. Zantow’s goods and took one of the wooden chairs, sure she was there for that very reason.

“It has come to my attention that Mr. Zantow has passed away.”

“Yes, sir. Just this week.”

Mr. Jenness, feeling very good about his decision, nodded complacently.

“It has also come to my attention that he has a large outstanding debt with this bank.”

This was a surprise to Reese, but she didn’t comment. He had lived very well, and she had assumed he was more than comfortable.

“It is the decision of this bank to sell his home and all his possessions.”

Reese nodded, assuming this was the best course of action.

“Unfortunately this will not cover his debt. So it is also the decision of this bank to retain your indenture contract until such time as you would have ceased to work for Mr. Zantow.”

Reese stared at the man, wishing he would repeat his last sentence.

“Is that clear to you, Miss Thackery?”

“The bank will own my papers? I’m indentured to the Tucker Mills Bank?”

“Yes,” he replied, actually smiling. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

“I have no money, Mr. Jenness.”

“Of course you don’t.” He frowned. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be an indentured servant.”

“Where will I live?”

“Where will you live?”

“Yes. You said Mr. Zantow’s home is to be sold.”

The frown deepened. Mr. Jenness had not thought of this.

“Well,” he improvised swiftly, his voice sharpening a bit. “You’ll be given a small stipend for rent. I’m sure you can find a place.”

“And food?”

“Yes, and food.” Sharper still. “You shouldn’t need much!”

Reese’s disappointment was so keen that for a moment she couldn’t move or speak. She had thought she was free, and now it would be two more years. Or would it?

“I wish for you to tell me exactly what my papers say. I wish to know how long the bank will own my contract.”

Mr. Jenness did not look pleased about it, but he rustled through a few sheets on his desk and came up with the right document.

“Let’s see,” he peered at the paper. “The original contract with your father is for February 29, 1834, and you became the primary concern in May of 1835. That means you have 19 months to go. This is July, so you will be released in February of 1841.”

Wanting to check the dates for herself, Reese put out her hand and the papers were given to her. She tried to find some comfort in what she saw, but at the moment she was at a loss. Mr. Jenness was staring at her oddly, and she wondered what her face looked like.

“What exactly will I do?” she remembered to ask.

“For starters, you’ll ready all of Mr. Zantow’s belongings for auction or sale. After that is taken care of, you’ll report here each morning for a list of jobs. Cleaning this office twice a week will be on that list.”

Reese nodded, wondering at the feeling of numbness that was stealing over her. She’d received bad news in the past, but none that seemed to affect her like this.

“Do I live at the house until it sells?”

“Of course not! It must be in a salable condition! I’ll expect it to be cleaned, and I’ll be checking the job myself. You must move out today.”

Reese didn’t know what she looked like when he said this, but her expression must have registered alarm, since he began to recant.

“Well, actually,” he said as he cleared his throat and began to stack papers, “I guess you can have the weekend. I’ll expect you out by Monday morning.”

Reese nodded and stood. Shock was setting in, but a woman in the other room speaking to Mr. Leffler and asking about money in her account stopped her.

“How much will I be getting to live on each month, and when will I get it?”

Mr. Jenness looked irritated all over again, but Reese was knowing some irritation of her own. She had never heard of a bank holding someone’s papers.

“Mr. Jenness?” Reese pressed, deciding not to leave until she had an answer.

“At the end of each month,” he said, thinking this was the end of it until Reese sat back down. He stared at her in surprise until she spoke.

“I’ve been an indentured servant for more than four years, Mr. Jenness. I do what I’m told with only a roof over my head, two dresses, and food to show for it. I have nothing, and you are telling me I must leave my home. The end of the month is days away. What exactly am I to live on until you decide to pay me?”

BOOK: Just Above a Whisper
13.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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