The Carousel Painter (26 page)
“Maybe we can help each other,” I suggested. “When you see me acting prideful, you could signal me. And if I see you beginning to exhibit signs of anger, I could do the same.”
“What is this signal you speak of?”
“It can be anything we decide upon.”
We both grew silent and considered the idea. It would need to be something other people wouldn’t question.
“I know! We can pull on the ear,” he said, yanking on his right earlobe.
“I suppose that would work,” I replied, pleased that we now had a common bond—even if it was only pulling on our ears.
The following afternoon Josef and I walked home together. Assuming he would spend the evening sitting on the front porch with Mr. Lundgren and Mrs. Wilson, I asked, “Do you have plans for this evening?”
A thick lock of hair dropped across his brow when he bobbed his head. “Ja. I will go to the pavilion with Gunter.”
My mouth was so dry the air caught in my throat when I tried to swallow. I was certain my hearing hadn’t failed. Josef was going to the dance—without me. I could picture the scene in my mind. The single young ladies would throng around him, eager to have the manager of the carousel factory lead them onto the dance floor, each one hoping to win his heart. But I couldn’t object. I had refused his invitation.
I did my best to smile, but I doubted it was any more than a lopsided grimace. “I’m sure the two of you will have a nice time.”
“Would be nicer with you along, but Gunter said he would help to find me some dance partners.”
I gritted my teeth. Leave it to Gunter to offer help where it wasn’t wanted—at least not where
I
wanted it.
Josef stopped on the porch when we arrived at the boardinghouse. “Out here I will sit until supper. The weather is nice.” He opened the screen door for me and then stepped back toward one of the chairs.
“I must go in and complete my packing.”
“Ja. You need to finish. For me there is time enough after supper to get ready.”
I nodded and climbed the stairs to my room. Why had he reminded me of his outing! Now I must fight both jealousy and pride. While I placed my clothes on the bed, I did my best to remain focused on what I would need until my return tomorrow. As frequently as I packed, I should have memorized a list of the items, but it seemed I always forgot something. Of course, Augusta easily came to my rescue with whatever was needed. While I packed several combs for my hair, I considered Mrs. Galloway’s missing necklace. Perhaps I would learn that it had been returned to her. Not likely, but I could hope.
I’d closed the latches on my travel cases only minutes earlier when Mrs. Wilson called upstairs to say Mr. Lundgren was on his way to help me. Before I could object, Mr. Lundgren popped into sight, his unruly brown hair flying in all directions. “You just point me to the baggage, and I’ll get it down those steps.”
He entered my room, and I motioned toward the corner. Refusing my offer to carry one of the bags, he hoisted one in each hand and led the way downstairs. Josef jumped to his feet as Mr. Lundgren stepped outside and dropped the two valises on the porch.
“Why didn’t you call me to help you, Ralph? I would have carried the bags downstairs.” Brows furrowed, Josef directed his frown at me.
“I told him I would carry one, but he insisted.”
“Next time you will call me to carry your cases, ja?”
After assuring Josef I would do so, I thanked Mr. Lundgren. The older man waved off my offer of a coin for his help and hurried back inside as if to escape argument. I was just about to sit down in the chair beside Josef when I remembered I’d left my reticule upstairs.
“I’ll be back in a moment.” I strode inside and hesitated at the flight of stairs. At the moment, I wondered if having my own bathroom was really worth climbing to the third floor. Exhaling a giant breath, I climbed the first flight. No sooner had I arrived on the third floor and entered my bedroom than I heard a carriage arrive.
I’d given Augusta strict orders that I no longer wished to have Tyson call for me, that his constant appearance without her had given rise to questions. She didn’t inquire any further but had promised I need not worry; she would accompany Tyson in the future. I stood at my window and looked out, eager to see if Augusta had kept her word. I expected to see her step out of the carriage. Instead, a handsome young man I’d not seen before opened the door, hollered something to Thomas that I could not distinguish, and stepped down. I leaned forward on tiptoe and rested my forehead against the bedroom window, hoping to see Augusta. My excitement bubbled like a boiling kettle. I could only assume she had given Tyson the mitten and this was her new beau. But the handsome gentleman closed the door and strode toward the front steps alone. Perhaps she’d spied my baggage on the porch and decided to wait in the carriage. She wouldn’t dare send a stranger to escort me!
Grasping the banister with my hand, I flew down the two flights of stairs, the soles of my shoes sliding from step to step like a sled on ice. I braced myself and held tight as I slid down the final flight. But my hold wasn’t firm enough to avoid a collision with the handsome gentleman who happened to enter the front door at the exact same moment.
He managed to remain upright as I catapulted into his arms. I looked into blue eyes that shone like sunshine on water. His smile was every bit as engaging as his sparkling eyes. “You must be Carrington,” he said.
His words broke the spell, and I reluctantly took a backward step and removed myself from his embrace. “Yes, Carrington Brouwer.” My voice warbled like a dying bird, and I cleared my throat. “And
you
are?”
This time I croaked. From bird to frog—that should impress him. I swallowed hard and stifled a rising giggle.
“I am Ronald Galloway, Augusta’s brother.” His grin returned and he bent forward into a grand bow that made me chuckle. Returning to an upright position, he said, “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. My sister speaks of you often.”
“Does she? I hope it’s all good.”
“
Very
good, but she failed to tell me of your beauty. I will soundly chastise her for that oversight.”
“Ja, I do not know how anyone could forget to speak of Carrie’s gut looks.”
There was no way of knowing exactly when Josef had entered the foyer. Ronald had completely blocked him from view until he’d stepped to the side as he spoke.
Ronald jerked and glanced over his shoulder. Evidently he’d not known Josef was standing behind him, either. With a slight turn of his body, he extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
He accepted Ronald’s hand. “No, we have not met. I am Josef Kaestner. For your father, I manage the carousel factory.”
“Ah yes, I remember. You’re the German fellow he hired in Philadelphia.”
Josef’s jaw clenched at the remark. “I am American citizen. Not born in this country like you, but still I am American.”
His tone was harsh and anger flashed in his eyes. From his spread-legged stance and curled fists, I wondered if he might punch Ronald in the nose. “Josef! Could I impose upon you to tell Mrs. Wilson I am leaving?”
When he looked at me, I yanked on my left earlobe, but the gesture had little effect. Thankfully, Ronald didn’t seem to notice that Josef was glaring at him. I was certain Josef desired an apology, but it didn’t come. His complexion changed from pinkish red to magenta, and I wondered if he might explode like an overcooked beet.
“Josef!” I hadn’t meant to shout, but my tone gained the attention of both men, who suddenly looked in my direction. There I stood—tugging on both my earlobes like a bell ringer heaving the ropes in a church tower. Josef relaxed ever so slightly. Ronald stared at me as though I’d completely lost my senses.
O
nce we were on our way, Ronald didn’t hesitate to quiz me about my strange behavior. I didn’t want to betray Josef ’s confidence, yet I could hardly tell Ronald I was trying to enlarge my earlobes. They were already the size of my thumb tip, and no young lady desired large earlobes!
Rather than tell him an outright lie, I lapsed into a rambling account. By the time I uttered the final word, he appeared thankful to have me clamp my lips together. My response rendered him both speechless and bewildered. With my task accomplished, I settled back against the leather carriage seat.
We’d traveled approximately a mile when Ronald tentatively inquired about my portrait painting. I surmised he feared another lengthy, incoherent response, but this time I answered with clarity and brevity. My reply had the desired effect. His pinched features and rigid posture completely disappeared.
“Perhaps some of the guests at Mother’s housewarming would be interested in sitting for a portrait.”
“With my work at the factory, I don’t have time. But in the future I may return to painting on canvas instead of wood.”
“That’s right! Augusta told me you paint the carousel horses in Father’s factory.” He looked at me for a moment. “Fascinating.”
“Exactly what is so fascinating? That I work in your father’s business, or that I paint horses?”
“Both. It’s difficult to imagine a young lady working in a carousel factory—or any factory for that matter. Are there others of you?”
He made it sound as though I belonged to some strange organization. I thought of his mother and how she’d stared at me that first day I’d arrived. I’d even been wearing this same hat. Ronald was staring at me in much the same manner—as if I had horns poking from my head. I surreptitiously touched my hat just to make certain.
“I’m the only woman working in the factory at this time, but I imagine there will be more in the future. Who can say what changes will take place. I’d like to think that your father or Josef would consider hiring other women if they were qualified to perform the duties.”
“So you’ve encountered no problems with the men or the work?”
How should I answer his questions? I didn’t want to tell him that Louis had mixed sand with my paints and been discharged; nor did I care to tell him that many of the men had threatened to walk out shortly after I’d begun work, and most of them still wouldn’t speak to me. On the other hand, I could hardly say I’d been welcomed with enthusiasm.
“It has been challenging. Painting the horses is much different from painting on canvas. Still, I find the work much to my liking.”
He tipped his head back against the seat and chuckled. “I can’t imagine my sister or any other woman I know ever saying she enjoys work.”
I shrugged. “One does what is required. I feel fortunate I am able to paint.”
To avoid further questions, I decided to pose some of my own and inquired about Ronald’s schooling. I listened with interest while he told me his studies were focused upon business so that he might one day properly take his place alongside his father. While I was listening to Ronald’s explanation, it occurred to me that this would be the perfect opportunity to discover a little more about the chameleon.
“And what about your friend Tyson? Is he enrolled in the same course of study?”
I’d done my best to carefully phrase the question so I didn’t appear overly interested in Tyson. I didn’t want Ronald thinking I’d set my cap for Augusta’s beau. Fortunately for me, Ronald was pleased to furnish a plethora of information. I learned that Tyson had entered college with the intention of becoming a lawyer, a profession his father had chosen for him. And his earlier arrival in Collinsford hadn’t been because his classes had ended or because of his rowdy behavior. Rather, he had been dismissed from school due to bad grades. In fact, he’d been barred from taking the final exams.
“So you told him to come to Collinsford and you’d join him when you finished classes?”
“We never discussed that, but you can never tell about Tyson. He’s an impulsive sort of fellow. Of course, we all think the world of him.” Ronald chuckled. “I do believe he’s been putting some of his classwork to good use, what with the theft of Mother’s jewelry. I think he imagines himself some sort of sleuth who is going to solve the crime.”
“And do you believe he’s making progress with his investigation?”