Whisper Falls (28 page)

“Why are you here?”

I dropped a kiss on her brow. “I have come to speak with Mama for a time. But I have a request for you.”

“Yes?”

“I have a special journey planned for us tomorrow. Can you be ready after breakfast?”

Her brow creased. “Where?”

“It's a secret. Will you keep it?”

Her eyes shone. “I shall.”

“Very well. The trip is to Raleigh.” I laughed at her eager smile. “It will be exciting. Do you have any embroidery you can bring?”

“Perhaps the handkerchief with the bees and vines?”

“Indeed. It will do nicely.”

“What shall we do there? Might we eat in a real tavern, or must we pack food? I should like to eat in a real tavern.”

I laughed. “So many questions. We must discuss them all with Mama.”

Our mother chose that moment to appear in the door. “Susanna?”

“Don't forget, it's a secret,” I whispered to Phoebe.

“I shall not.”

I hurried across the yard, crossed the sagging porch, and followed my mother into the great room. It had a just-cleaned look. A new rag rug lay in the center of the freshly swept floor. The windows had been scrubbed of a decade's worth of grime. A basket of quilt pieces crouched next to a rocking chair. It was inviting and cheerful, reflecting the efforts of an industrious housewife—a title my mother could hardly claim. Perhaps Mr. Shaw was fooled.

“Why have you come?” She didn't smile.

“You are to marry.”

“I don't like to live alone.”

“You don't live alone now.”

Her lips compressed. “Living with a child isn't the same as living with a husband.”

“I expect not.” I gave her an unblinking stare.

She flushed and looked away. “Don't judge me. I'm good at being a wife. I don't want to run a farm by myself.”

“I didn't want to be an indentured servant, but your Mr. Crawford forced me there anyway.” I shifted until I was in her view again. “Mr. Shaw will force Phoebe into an indenture, as well.”

Mama shook her head. “You are mistaken. He said she can stay with me if she is useful.”

“Did he promise? Is her progress with spinning enough?”

Mama sighed. “Mr. Shaw says that Drusilla Pratt is quite discouraged by Phoebe's progress.”

“Discouraged?” Words of protest clogged my throat, but I swallowed them back. “Where did he hear this news?”

“Jethro Pratt.” My mother shook her head. “I am greatly surprised. I expected Phoebe to excel.”

Phoebe's skill was extraordinary. Her efforts would one day sell for a fine price. My master had deceived Mr. Shaw, and there could be only one reason—so Mr. Pratt could bind her to himself. His despicable behavior worked in my favor. I would leave the deception unchallenged.

I touched her lightly on the shoulder. Beneath my hand, I could feel her bones clearly.

“Until Phoebe turns eighteen, you will wonder every day whether Mr. Shaw will bind her out. Is that what you want for yourself or Phoebe?”

She clasped her arms against her waist and hunched over, her body still. But her eyes were restless. They darted here and there, as if seeking answers.

“No,” she whispered, “he won't take her from me.”

“He will.” My mother was wavering. It was time to press her relentlessly. “He cannot bind her out if you have resolved her future before you marry.”

“Mr. Shaw will be angry if I decide without him.”

“Until July tenth, he has no claim on her. It is an unworthy man who would fault a mother for taking care of her child.”

“I don't know what to do.”

“There's no need for you to worry any longer.” My mother's dithering tried my patience. I had to get her to agree to my plan. “I have found a job for Phoebe.”

“Where?”

God forgive me for the lie I was about to tell. “I have secured a position for her in Nathaniel Eton's household.”

Her lips parted in awe. “Mr. Eton, the war hero?”

“Yes. Would it not be an honor to have your daughter working there?”

“Indeed. They are a fine family. But don't they live in Raleigh?”

“They do. But it's close enough that you could travel to see her. Mr. Shaw will have business in Raleigh on occasion. You could ride along. And in October, I shall be living there, too.”

She paced the room, muttering to herself. “Can I do this?”

When at last she passed by her rocking chair, she collapsed into it, hands wringing in her lap. “We cannot accept. I should miss her too fiercely if she were to leave.”

Her statement cut like a knife. Had she ever thought such things about me? Had she protested when her second husband sent me away? It was barely a mile to the Pratts's farm. Yet, once the papers were signed, she acted as if she had no interest in me. Why, after all this time, did this knowledge have the power to hurt? I had to force these long-buried thoughts away.

“Where else could she go, if not to Raleigh?”

She twisted her hands in the folds of her apron. “Perhaps housewifery at the Pratts's wouldn't be so terrible. Mr. Shaw says they have been good to you.”

I gaped in disbelief. “Are you mad?” I asked in a grating voice, forgetting my need for calm at the sheer lack of notice my mother paid me. She had spent little time near me since I left her household. But shouldn't that make my treatment more visible? Had she not seen the scars and bruises accumulate?

Without thinking, I peeled up my bandage and forced my wound before her shocked gaze. “Mr. Pratt burned me. He kicked a hot skillet against my arm.”

She studied the wound, eyes blinking rapidly. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Tears stung my eyes. Could there be any acceptable reason for burning someone?

“For reading a book.”

She shook her head over and over. Her mouth hung open but no sounds emerged.

“He beats me, Mama.” I faced away from her and lifted my petticoat. “Do you see the scars covering my legs? The newest ones are for oversleeping. He struck me five times for serving his breakfast fifteen minutes late.”

“No,” she said with a sob.

I dropped my petticoat and spun around. “That is the life you chose for me when you handed my fate to your husband. Is that what you wish for Phoebe?”

“I am sorry, Susanna. I didn't know.”

Anguish, eight years in the making, loosened my tongue. “You would have known if you ever looked at me.” I knelt before her, hands gripping the arms of her chair. “Mama, you must do what's right for Phoebe. Don't let a stranger decide her future.”

She raised trembling fingers to her lips. It was quiet in the room, but sounds drifted in from the outside. Birds calling. Chickens clucking. Phoebe singing.

She nodded slowly, then with more conviction. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

She gasped. “So soon?”

“The position won't remain open long. It's greatly coveted.” If my sister secured any position in Raleigh, we would leave her behind. I couldn't risk bringing her back and having Mr. Shaw interfere. My mother didn't have to know the details of the transaction. “Mr. Eton needs a willing worker in his home. They entertain often and require many beautiful clothes. Phoebe's skill with the needle will surely be used. Is this solution not a superior one?”

“I agree. Yes.” She shivered. “They will be good to her?”

“Undoubtedly.” Finally, success. I should have been guilt-ridden by the ease with which I had deceived my own mother. I was not. “I shall see you early tomorrow. Please wear your Sunday best.”

Her eyes widened. “Must I go?”

“You may have to sign papers.”

She rose and crossed to the window. There she watched her youngest child collecting vegetables in the garden. “I suppose I must keep this decision a secret from Mr. Shaw?”

“Indeed. Your discussion with him will be easier after the deed is done.” I looked past her to my beloved sister. Tomorrow, Phoebe would move to Raleigh. It wasn't so very far, but I would miss her greatly.

The end of my indenture would not only bring freedom. It would also bring reunion.

* * *

I was anxious to leave for my mother's farm, but Mrs. Pratt and the children dawdled over breakfast.

The morning chores didn't go smoothly, either. Nerves had made me clumsy. The dishes refused to dry. The vegetables refused to lie still while I hacked at them.

From my vantage point at the worktable, I watched Dorcas exit the main house, holding hands with Delilah and Dinah. Instead of entering the kitchen, she circled around the side. I threw the vegetables into the stew kettle, covered a platter of sliced bread with a cloth, and changed aprons.

Dorcas spoke from the rear door. “Will you give me a lesson in writing? I should like to practice my z's.”

“Not today.”

“Are you going somewhere?”

For the first time, I found her inquisitive nature to be irritating. “My mother's house.”

She eyed me skeptically. “You went there yesterday. Why do you return?”

“I thought I might check for peaches.”

She glanced at the dishes waiting on the worktable. “Will you be here for dinner?”

“Naturally.” I set the jar of spicy apple butter next to the platter of bread. “Dinner will be ready on time.”

Her mouth pinched in a warning. “Mama expects Papa back today.”

“She'll be glad to see him,” I said with a falsely casual shrug. Since I didn't know precisely where Mr. George Pratt lived, I couldn't know how long it would take for my master to drive home. Perhaps, if we were fortunate, it would be as late as supper time. I would welcome the new supplies he would bring, if not his return.

I shooed the girls with my hands. “Now, young ladies, off with you. Find some shade and play school.”

Dorcas swung around, dragging two little sisters after her. “I shall be the teacher, and you may be my pupils.”

Once they had settled into mock spelling lessons under an oak, I darted to the trail in the woods. Within minutes, I arrived at the falls, certain I had gone unnoticed. Mark rose from the tall grasses as I approached.

“Hey,” he said with a big smile. “Ready?”

“Indeed.” I drank in the sight of him. It was lovely to be with him in the middle of the day, speaking as friends, not hidden in the shadows of a cave. “You have found a waistcoat.”

He patted the striped fabric covering his chest. “My mother's. Great, huh?”

“Adequate is the word I would have chosen.” I gestured toward the trail. “Let us hurry. I don't wish to be gone long.”

“Fine with me.” He took off, his black shoes kicking up dust.

As I trotted along beside him, I pondered how this day would proceed. There were, of course, problems that might arise, but I had thought through them all. If my mother and sister expressed concern about traveling with a stranger, I would reassure them. Mark could be both their guide and protector. If Mama balked at leaving Phoebe with a family besides the Etons, Mark could say we took too long to claim it, and they had filled the position with someone else.

If any other problems came up, Mark or I would solve them, because we must. Phoebe couldn't remain in Worthville.

“Mark, there are some things you should know about today.”

“I don't like the sound of that.”

It would be best to get this over with quickly and avoid any lengthy discussions.

“I didn't tell my family about you.”

“Why not?”

“I was afraid they might refuse to go.”

He stopped walking. I did not.

“Susanna?”

I strained to hear his footsteps but heard no movement. He had ceased to follow. I spun to face him. “What is it?”

“Were you planning to introduce us and wave goodbye?”

“Yes. It is the only way.”

“They have to come willingly.”

“They will be excited. They will take the trip.” I continued down the path.

He caught up. “What if you're wrong?”

“I shall be persuasive, and you'll be charming.”

“Let's hope you're right.” He sidestepped a snake that slithered with whip-like speed into a tiny hole. “What else do I need to know?”

“I told Mama that Phoebe has a position with the Etons.”

“What?” He halted again, this time catching my elbow and pulling me to a stop. “Why did you lie about something so major? It'll be obvious when we get to Raleigh and the last name is Palmer, instead.”

I tugged my arm from his grasp. “If I must deceive them to get them there, it cannot be helped.”

“Great. You'll be here while I'm the one dealing with two pissed-off women.”

“I am sure you will handle the situation with competence.” I resumed my walk.

It didn't take much longer to arrive at the farmhouse. Phoebe waited on the porch. She started to run toward me but slowed when her gaze fell on Mark.

“Don't speak unless you must,” I said to him, too quietly for my sister to hear.

“You don't need to worry about that. I want you to do the talking.”

I went ahead of him and held out a hand to my sister. “I am glad to see you're ready.”

She slipped her hand in mine, her gaze trained on my companion. “Who is this man, Susie?”

“He's a friend of mine.”

“Why is he here?”

“He's from Raleigh. He'll be the guide for today's trip.”

I studied her with a critical eye. My sister was growing into a remarkable beauty. While we shared the same wide, dark eyes as our father, there the resemblance ended. Her hair was a shimmering gold, her body slight. Wearing a bodice she'd embroidered with birds and ivy, Phoebe looked quite grown-up. Perhaps no one would ask her age. I certainly couldn't afford to have Mr. Pratt see her looking this lovely and mature.