Just Above a Whisper (10 page)

Linden Heights, Massachusetts

Dalton Kingsley’s brow lowered in concentration and very real concern as he read the letter in his hand. He hadn’t heard from Dooner—Douglas Muldoon—in many years, but that didn’t change his opinion of this old friend. He knew Dooner to be a man of great faith and integrity, which made it easy to believe every word of the missive he’d sent.

Much as he hated to do it, Dalton wasted no time in sending for his brother. This was not a situation that could be ignored.

When silence fell on their conversation, Dalton stared across the small parlor at his youngest sibling, Conner Kingsley, thinking the younger man still looked tired. Their mother had died just two months earlier, and for the last six months of her life, her mind had slipped. She had wanted Conner with her constantly, becoming frightened and tearful if she couldn’t see him.

Conner had done everything in his power to be with her, even giving up his job at the bank, but it had taken its toll. The fact that she was like a small child when she died had hurt all of her children, but especially Conner, since he had been with her so much at the end.

“I hate to ask this of you, Conner,” Dalton added, “but I feel this has to be handled by a family member. I would go if Jamie’s condition hadn’t just worsened.”

Jamie, Dalton’s youngest daughter, was very ill.

“I understand, Dalton,” Conner said softly, which was his way. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll get a letter off to the bank manager tomorrow. When do you wish to leave?”

Conner thought about it, named a date he thought he could manage, and fell silent.

“How will you do in Tucker Mills, Conner?” Dalton asked when the silence lengthened. “It’s been a long time.”

Conner smiled a little. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“Thank you, Conner,” his brother told him sincerely, the two men embracing when Conner stood to leave.

The younger man climbed into the waiting coach, thinking about what needed to be done to leave Linden Heights and trying not to think about how draining the last months had been. His brother needed him to do this, and he would. He’d take Troy Thaden—a friend and coworker—with him, and that would make a huge difference.

For a moment his mind was assailed with memories from the past, but he pushed those thoughts away. It was not time to think about them. He would be forced to deal with his past in Tucker Mills soon enough, but not today.

Tucker Mills

“It’s a hot day,” Mrs. Greenlowe told Reese about a week after she moved in. “I’m going to check on you at Zantow’s.”

“I’m done at Mr. Zantow’s. I’m headed to the bank to see what needs to be done.”

Mrs. Greenlowe frowned. She wanted to tell Reese to check in with her but knew that wasn’t practical.

“Well, drink plenty of water” were her only words.

Reese thanked her with an amused smile and headed out. The walk to the bank didn’t take long, Reese’s long legs eating the distance, and before she was ready, she was giving a small wave to Mr. Leffler behind the counter and heading toward the alcove that was Mr. Jenness’ office.

“Come in,” Mr. Jenness commanded as soon as he spotted her. No greeting, no invitation to sit down, no attempt at formality— just an order. “Is the house complete?”

“Yes, Mr. Jenness.”

“Very well,” that man said, standing and going to the coat rack for his hat. “I shall go directly there. You will accompany me,” he stopped long enough to say, and then finished pompously, “
I
will be the one to judge if you are finished.”

Reese did not follow Mr. Jenness around the house. He had an adverse effect on her emotions. She stayed in the kitchen, not because she’d been told to, but because she hadn’t been told to follow. She had no desire to trail after Mr. Jenness, whose mere presence made her tense and irritated.

Hearing him on the stairs, Reese tensed all over again and waited for him to enter.

“This will do,” he condescendingly announced as he stepped across the threshold, and Reese knew that it pained him not to find something to criticize. “You may go to my home now and help my wife. Return to the bank promptly at 4:00. I will give you one hour to clean there.”

Reese didn’t comment but nodded silently and headed for the door. It occurred to her as she exited that, negative or not, this had been her home for more than five years. Memories of the early days, days when her father was still alive, came rushing to her, swiftly followed by the days and years after his death.

“Reese!”

In her preoccupation with leaving Mr. Zantow’s house, she forgot that reporting to the Jenness home would take her directly past Mrs. Greenlowe’s.

“Where are you headed?” that lady demanded. Reese moved closer so as not to shout her answer.

“You don’t want to know,” Reese surprised her by saying.

Mrs. Greenlowe’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to his house!” she hissed.

Reese only smiled at her, waiting for the tirade to begin.

“Who does he think he is? How is that helping the bank? He’s got no right, I tell you. And that Lillie Jenness! She’s a cold one. You mark my words. All she does is work.”

When the words seemed to run out, Reese calmly said, “Then I’m headed to clean the bank at 4:00. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

Reese turned away, but Mrs. Greenlowe’s voice, calmer now, stopped her.

“You might be an indentured servant, Reese, but you’re still a person. Make sure they treat you like one.”

By way of a reply, Reese waved but didn’t say what she was thinking. Being an indentured servant meant they could treat her any way they liked.

He had said he was going to do something. He had said that he had a surprise for her. But even though Reese Thackery was standing in her parlor, Mrs. Lillie Jenness could hardly believe her eyes.

Lillie found her voice after a few pained moments of silence. “What did he tell you to do?”

“He didn’t, Mrs. Jenness. He said to come here and be a help to you.”

Lillie’s eyes all but closed in frustration. She was a woman who prided herself on a spotless home and a perfect table. She didn’t need help. What could Victor be thinking?

“All right, Reese.” Lillie stayed calm, willing to take this matter up with her husband. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll have you work on some candlesticks that need polishing.”

Reese didn’t comment, but she was surprised. She expected to be given the most difficult, arduous job in the house. Polishing at the table was not it. Nevertheless, Reese didn’t complain. She took the apron that was handed to her—it was spotlessly clean— and sat down to work.

Reese didn’t look up while Mrs. Jenness moved around the room a bit. She didn’t look up until the lady of the house exited and the door to the next room closed rather hard.

Reese had been working along for the better part of an hour when Gerald, the Jenness’ teen son, came into the room.

“Who are you?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“I’m Reese,” she stopped humming and replied, barely glancing up from her work.

“What are you doing?”

Reese spoke before she thought. “I’m swimming in the pond. What does it look like?”

Not until the sarcastic words were out of her mouth did Reese look up, her eyes a bit wide until she saw that Gerald was laughing. She relaxed a bit but still kept her eyes on him, watching as he sat down, still chuckling.

“Where’s my mother?”

“I don’t know,” Reese answered, going back to the candlesticks.