Promise of Yesterday (9 page)

Jenny followed the woman.

Marylu kept a sharp eye on Sally, as that one made her way ever closer to the place where Marylu sat working her needle. “I’ll be so excited to wear this to the show.”

Marylu chose to take the high road. “Yes, Mrs. Burns is correct in that Miss McGreary does fine work. You’ll hold your head high wearing this frock.”

“Oh, Marylu. I’m not used to servants speaking first.” Sally gave a little laugh. “I forget how Jenny coddles you and Cooper.” She laced her fingers and a little smile bloomed on her lips. But it wasn’t a nice smile. “It won’t be the dress so much as the man with me. Mr. Walck is most handsome.”

A grunt crawled up her throat, but Marylu squelched it before it squeezed out. Miss Sally would think it most unladylike of her. Not that Marylu regarded herself as a lady, but a woman, of course. Even if regarded by others as a servant who happened to have black skin.

“I know how much his attentions mean to Miss McGreary. It must pain her deeply to watch his attention shift to me.”

Marylu took another hard stab at the material and poured out every prayer for grace she could think of. Let the woman blather on about her catch. If Aaron Walck thought Sally Worth worth his time, then he wasn’t the one for Jenny.

“The material is so soft and so beautiful and so expensive,” she purred. “But daddy told me to get what I wanted.”

Marylu had no idea why Sally’s daddy would be so keen on his daughter marrying a widower, versus one of the other nice and never-married young men in town. Unless it meant money.

“Daddy thinks his business, combined with Aaron’s, could be very prosperous.”

Marylu hid the small smile that twitched at her lips. Let people talk long enough and they’ll answer all the questions for you.

Sally tapped her foot, and Marylu imagined the woman was getting tired of carrying on a one-sided conversation. “Jenny said the dress would be done this afternoon.”

She raised her eyes to the young woman. “Done so that you can try it on but not done for you to take home. Miss McGreary’ll want to fit you before finishing the dress.” She lowered her eyes again. “I’ll be finished basting it up in about fifteen minutes.”

The sound of voices carried from the back. Mrs. Burns and Jenny made their way into the room. “I’ll send Teddy over to pick up the gowns tomorrow morning.”

“That would be fine, Mrs. Burns.”

Without further conversation, but a nod to Sally, the elder woman glided toward the door and pulled it open.

Tension seemed to build as Miss Jenny turned to face Sally. The smile on her friend’s face flattened at the corners and proved, at least to Marylu, how stressful Sally’s presence was.

“I hope Marylu has helped you, Miss Worth.”

Marylu watched Sally swell up for her response. Something caught Marylu’s eye at the front of the store, where the door never had shut upon Mrs. Burns’s exit. Instead, another person entered, tall and handsome. As Sally’s voice raised in irritation at Jenny, Marylu nodded to Aaron Walck. He returned the greeting almost absently, his attention hooked on Sally and Jenny and the tirade falling from Sally’s lips.

“And it’s not even done yet! I’ve got a busy schedule, and now I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I wanted to wear it to the minstrel show at Town Hall. You better hope it gives me enough time to find new shoes!”

Jenny gave Marylu a sideways glance.

Marylu signaled with her eyes at the tall form standing just inside the door, even as she responded to Sally’s words. “Told her I’d be done with the basting in fifteen minutes.”

When Jenny caught sight of the newcomer, she gasped.

Sally turned. “Aaron! Did you get what you needed at the hardware store?”

Marylu’s stomach soured at the hypocrisy of the woman.

Jenny’s expression showed nothing. “If you could wait, Miss Worth, I’m sure Marylu will be as good as her word and have the dress basted for a fitting.” There were equal parts steel and politeness in Jenny’s voice.

Sally sashayed over to Aaron and took his arm. “We were just talking about my dress for the variety show. Want to see it?”

Aaron stared down at Sally for a full minute before allowing himself to be drawn closer to the spot where Marylu worked over the fabric. She didn’t see one bit of warmth in the man’s demeanor and hoped that witnessing Sally’s tirade might help him realize his mistake.

“As I said,” Sally’s voice held a forced edge of gentleness as she finally replied to Jenny’s suggestion, “I can’t wait. Aaron is taking me on a picnic.” She gazed up at him with more heat than Marylu thought fitting.

Aaron grimaced. “About that …” He fidgeted. “I won’t be able to this afternoon. One of the tools I’d ordered came in, and Edgar’s man is delivering it this afternoon.”

Sally stiffened and drew away from him. She seemed at a loss for words.

Jenny took the chance the silence offered her. “Then you can stay and wait for the dress.”

“No,” Sally spit out. “I won’t be staying. Perhaps I’ll just cancel my order if you’re not able to keep your end of the bargain.”

“That’s fine,” Jenny allowed.

Sally’s chin jutted. “Fine.” She hooked her arm back through Aaron’s. “Consider my order canceled.”

Aaron’s eyes darted between Marylu and Jenny, finally settling on Jenny. He looked sorrier than sorry to Marylu’s mind but allowed himself to be wheeled around and tugged toward the front door. He held it open as Sally made her exit and sent one last pained look toward Jenny.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Marylu lumbered upward and gathered her friend into her arms. Words of praise died when she felt Jenny’s shoulders sag and heard the sharp intake of breath that indicated tears.

Cooper’s recovery was slow. Between Marylu, Miss Jenny, and Chester, they took turns checking on him during the day and through the night.

Marylu and Chester worked on his words and speech. He became even more pleased with his progress when Marylu and Jenny could understand his talking, even if the words were simple and the letters not the ones that gave him trouble.

His presence in the home simultaneously gave him a sense of family and smote him for not getting over to Mercersburg to see his mother and sister. But his hesitation, he realized, stemmed more than anything from his desire to return to his mama whole. Or as whole as he could be with only half his tongue. He wanted her to be proud of the man he had become, but he feared the rumors of his master’s death had reached her ears. She would be able to look at him and know he had suffered for it. She would understand how far and how long he had run to escape, not only those who searched for him to kill him for the deed but also the specter of his own failure at being a man of worth.

The failure ate at him. As he entered Cooper’s cabin, Chester clutched what was in his pocket and forced his mind to review the instructions Marylu had given him that morning. “Make sure he drinks his tea. And give him some firm slaps on the back to dislodge the mucus in his chest.” It was the same thing she’d told him for the last three days.

Chester slipped over to the bed, satisfied to see the man sleeping. He turned to leave when Cooper’s voice caught him. “If ‘n I’m awake, you promise not to force me to swallow that tea Marylu’s been having you make?”

Chester grinned, noting that Cooper’s voice seemed less hoarse than it had in the past week.

“You’re a good friend keeping up with me, Chester.” Cooper wiggled himself upright in bed. “Marylu’s forced enough of her herbal teas down my throat to heal a tribe of Indians.”

Chester nodded. He produced the tin of loose tea he’d bought at Hostetter & Sons’ Grocer and held it up for Cooper to see.

The old man groaned. “If the cough don’t put me six feet under, the tea sure enough will. You know she makes me drink it with garlic?” Cooper shook his head. “She’s something else, that’s for sure.”

Somehow it didn’t seem right to simply smile a response and act like he hadn’t noticed Cooper’s preoccupation with Marylu. At first he had taken Cooper’s flapping over Marylu’s care for him as a man not enjoying being sick. Understandable. But then he realized that the old man’s griping was more to mask other things. Deeper feelings. Chester had seen it in the way Cooper’s rheumy eyes followed her every move, and though his mouth got saucy right back at Marylu, it was those times Chester caught him watching her that spoke the truth.

Chester heaved a sigh and raised his hands. He pointed at Cooper then to his chest to indicate his heart.

Cooper shook his head. “Don’t start all that. Talk.”

He worked up the courage to say what he’d been about to mime, and the words flew out of his mouth, rough and awkward. “You love Marylu.”

The old man blinked and stared. His eyes sharpened and flashed, then he dropped his gaze to his hands, gnarled together in his lap. “She’s a good woman. Always been the kind I’d wished I’d settled down with, but she’d never have a man like me. Too old for her anyway. I’ve always known that.”

“She care for you.” Chester formed the words with some difficulty.

Cooper paused, obviously taking the time to figure out what Chester had said. He reached behind him and punched the pillow. “It don’t matter now anyway. I’m too old.” Cooper’s gaze went sharp and clear and pierced Chester through. “But not you. She could love you.”

Chester opened his mouth to form a protest.

“You need a woman like her.”

The statement hung between them. Chester shifted his weight and held up the tin as an excuse to leave.

As he dipped water from the dipping box outside Jenny’s kitchen, he warred with himself on what to say to Cooper. On how to act. While he had been picking up on Cooper’s affection for Marylu, it seemed Cooper had recognized Chester’s feelings for her as well. Yet he knew he could never be worthy of her. He had nothing to offer.

But Cooper’s words bolstered him, too. If anyone knew Marylu, it would be him. Perhaps the old man thought Marylu might welcome Chester’s love, else why would he suggest such a thing?

The whole exchange gnawed at Chester. Long past his visit with Cooper and into the night when he sat next to Marylu and worked on his words and speech, the conversation drummed a positive beat against the negatives. Every time their hands brushed, his senses sparked. He wondered if she felt it, too, and explored her features, her eyes, for any sign of what she felt.

She demonstrated how her tongue formed the letter L, and he concentrated harder. He found the letter particularly frustrating and worked his tongue over and over to get the flow of it. When the sound rumbled up from his chest, his tongue seemed too weak to carry off the rolling sound and it became the letter W. He tried again and again.

Marylu finally shook her head. “Let’s let it rest for now. It’s coming out better, but we’ve got other things to work on.”

He picked up the slate and began writing words. When he finished cramming the entire surface with most of what he’d learned, he held it up. The pleased expression on her face brought a wave of satisfaction. And when she didn’t look away, something changed. Her gaze became searching. Questioning. Fear etched a mark between her brows.

Chester’s heart seemed to slow its rhythm then speed up. He felt a million things in a matter of seconds. And he felt nothing at all. Her eyes reminded him of the dark grain of the walnut wood he used to build his master’s bookcases down in the South. He lifted his hand to grab the rag and erase the slate but stopped.

Her hand rested on the table, and he lowered his to hers, slowly, afraid his intentions would bleed through her mind and she would snatch away. Her skin was soft, and she glanced down at their hands with an expression of wonder. He inhaled and could smell the freshness of lye soap mixed with the chicken she’d fried for their meal.

In the hotel room, all those weeks ago, she had seemed panicked by his touch. Even through their evenings together, as his own feelings had built, he had wondered about that moment and what it was that held her aloof from him.

But now, here, this moment, she seemed soft, her eyes showing a gentleness way down deep. For him. He squeezed her hand and smiled.

She always seemed so brave and strong. Sure of herself in a way he’d never been. Her strength drew him, and he wondered if what he felt with her could possibly be the elusive thing he’d longed for all his life.

He breathed deeper, easier breaths, and an urgency to give voice to his feelings rose in him, buoyed by Cooper’s observation.

“
You need a woman like her
.”

“I love you.” The L didn’t come out right at all, but she understood. He could see it in the widening of her eyes and the way her lips parted. He gloried in her expression, the effect of his words, and he never felt anything harder than he did the satisfaction of having those feelings spoken out loud.

Marylu felt every inch the woman caught in a summertime thunderstorm. This one assaulted her, not with water but with a deluge of emotion that rolled her over and over.

Chester’s face mapped out the wrinkles of a hard life, but his eyes glowed with hope.

Time stood still. Her breath caught. He loved her. The wonder of the words rolled and spun and skipped through her heart. His warm hand squeezed hers, and the words slipped over her tongue, poised and waiting to be released.