Wishes (7 page)

The choir had just begun to sing when Jace dropped Nellie’s hand and stepped forward into the center of the church aisle. Nellie watched as he closed his eyes and began to sing the hymn. He had a beautiful, rich tenor voice, and the perfection of his tone showed his years of training. One by one the choir members stopped singing and listened.

Jace didn’t hear the words he sang; he felt them.

The last time he’d sung the song was at Julie’s funeral. He’d stood over her grave, dry-eyed, bareheaded in the frigid cold of Maine in February, and felt nothing. He felt neither the cold nor his deep sorrow. He imagined his pretty little wife in her coffin, their tiny son wrapped in her arms, and he’d felt nothing.

He had sung the song, and while others had wept he had shed not a tear. For four years now he had felt nothing, had moved, had eaten, had slept, but he had felt nothing. For four years he had not laughed or cried or even been angry.

Now, as he sang the old, mournful words of the hymn, he remembered Julie, remembered her laughing, remembered her as she struggled to give birth to their child.

It was time to say goodbye to the woman he had loved so much. At long, long last tears came to his eyes. Goodbye, my Julie, he thought. Goodbye.

When Jace stopped singing, the stillness inside the church was profound. No one even breathed—and there was not a dry eye in the building. They had felt the emotion in Jace’s words and responded to it.

At last someone blew his nose, and the spell was broken.

“Sir,” the choir leader said, “we’d like you to sing in our choir. We’d—”

Nellie hurried forward. “We’ll talk about it later,” she said with finality, and she half pushed Jace out the door. Outside he leaned against the church wall, and Nellie took his handkerchief from his pocket (hers was dirty) and gave it to him.

Jace blew his nose loudly, then gave a weak smile to Nellie. “Not much of a way for a man to act in front of his girl, is it?” he mumbled.

His words made Nellie’s heart flutter, but she controlled herself. “Your wife?”

He nodded. “I sang that at her funeral”

“You loved her very much?”

He was recovering himself and realized that for the first time since her death Julie wasn’t quite as clear to him as she had been. He looked at Nellie, and it was her features he saw instead of Julie’s. “Loved,” he said, emphasizing the past tense. “Yes, I did.” He put his hand on Nellie’s cheek. “Could I walk you home, Miss Grayson?”

“Home?” she asked, as though she’d never heard the word before. Then suddenly, like fire drenched by water, she came back to reality. “What time is it? Oh, don’t tell me. Father will be frantic. They’ll not have had their dinner. Oh, no, what have I done?”

“Something for yourself, for a change,” Jace said, but Nellie was already running west toward her house. He ran after her.

While Nellie and Jace were in the park, Terel was entering Dr. Westfield’s clinic. She was beautifully dressed in a suit of dark plum, the tight-fitting jacket covered with black braid sewn on in an intricate design.

The only other person in the office was Mary Alice Pendergast, a thin-nosed young woman some years older than Terel. In Terel’s mind, Mary Alice was an old maid just like Nellie, and therefore not any competition nor worthy of much attention.

She greeted Mary Alice and took a seat.

“I find Dr. Westfield so much more competent than a female doctor, don’t you?” Mary Alice said, referring to the women’s clinic run by Dr. Westfield’s wife.

“Much,” Terel agreed. “I wouldn’t trust a female, especially with something as serious as my heart palpitations.”

“Mmm,” Mary Alice said, agreeing. “And Dr. Westfield is so handsome, don’t you agree?”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Terel snapped, looking away. Dr. Westfield was, in her opinion, the best-looking man she’d ever seen—until Mr. Montgomery arrived in town, that is. Truthfully, it would be hard to choose between the men.

Since Mr. Montgomery had come to dinner Terel had done some checking on him. It seemed that he had some money; she wasn’t sure how much, but her sources whispered that he wasn’t poor. He was a relative of that vulgar Kane Taggert, and that man was certainly wealthy enough.

For a while Terel had puzzled over why Mr. Montgomery had taken a job with her father. Why didn’t he work for his rich cousin? It was when she remembered the way he’d looked at her at dinner that she understood. Mr. Montgomery had, no doubt, taken her father’s job to be near Terel. Terel was used to men looking at her, but Mr. Montgomery had looked at her differently—so differently that she’d felt herself flushing a few times.

Of course, he was the first
man
who’d looked at her; all the others had been mere boys.

She’d spent today with her dressmaker. It was her opinion that a new wardrobe never hurt when embarking on a new venture. And her new venture was the pursuit of one Mr. Montgomery. He was comfortably well off, if not rich; handsome; and, from the looks of things, he was mad for Terel. Of course, his connections to the rich Taggerts helped. She would be a cousin by marriage, and never again could the Taggerts deny her entrance to that big house of theirs. Perhaps after she married Mr. Montgomery they could live in the house with the Taggerts. The place was certainly big enough.

Yes, she thought, settling back in the chair. It would work very nicely if she were to marry Mr. Montgomery.

The door burst open, and in rushed three of Terel’s very best friends.

“There you are, Terel,” Charlene said, ignoring Mary Alice. “We have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Who is the divine man with Nellie?” Mae asked.

“With Nellie? Nellie’s at home.”

The girls looked at one another. They didn’t often have news that Terel knew nothing of. They pulled the wooden chairs into a circle and gathered around Terel, noting, of course, that Mary Alice was listening with wide-open ears.

“He took Nellie to tea,” Louisa said.

“And Nellie had on a disgusting old dress. The sleeves were much too small. Four years out of fashion if it’s a day.”

“And there was flour on her skirt.”

“Whom
was she with?” Terel demanded.

“Tall, very tall, dark hair and eyes, handsome—”

“Very
handsome.”

“Broad-shouldered and—”

“What was his
name?”
Terel asked, already getting angry because she knew who he was.

“Montgomery. Nellie said he’s going to work for your father.”

“No one who works for
my
father looks like
that,”
Louisa said, putting her hand to her breast.

Terel stiffened. “He does work for my father, and Nellie was merely showing him about Chandler. She—”

“Is that what she was doing when they were embracing on top of the wall by the park?”

Mary Alice gasped, then leaned forward to hear better.

“I cannot believe—” Terel began.

“At least a dozen people saw them!” Mae said. “The whole town is talking about it. Mr. Montgomery lifted Nellie up to the wall and—”

“Lifted
Nellie?”
Mary Alice said.

“Yes. Anyway,” said Charlene, “he lifted her to the wall, then climbed up with her, and in front of everyone he…he…”

“Pulled her into his arms,” Mae said dreamily.

“And he took the pins from her hair! There they were, embracing for all the town to see, and he unfastened her hair, and we heard that he almost
kissed
her. In front of everyone!”

They sat there, looking at Terel, waiting for a response from her.

“I do not believe you,” Terel said.

“You can ask anyone,” Louisa said. “And their being on the wall wasn’t the only thing that happened. According to Johnny Bowen and Bob Jenkins, Mr. Montgomery nearly attacked them on the street. All they did was ask Nellie about you.”

“Ask about me?” Terel whispered. Johnny and Bob were two of her favorite suitors. They were adoring puppies, requiring nothing from Terel but always ready to do her bidding.

“Johnny said that Mr. Montgomery said that Nellie was not your social secretary.” Mae turned to Louisa. “That’s right, isn’t it? That’s what he said, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Louisa answered. “Mr. Montgomery said Nellie wasn’t going to answer questions about you, and Johnny said that Mr. Montgomery seemed quite taken with Nellie.”

“In the tea shop,” Mae said, “he looked at her as if he were—well—in love with her.”

“With
Nellie?”
Mary Alice said. “With Nellie Grayson?”

Terel had heard more than she wanted to hear. She stood. “Mr. Montgomery is a very kind man, and he has a great deal of sympathy for women like Nellie. My poor sister has very little social life, and he felt pity for her, so he took her out for a day.”

“I wish Mr. Montgomery would take pity on
me,”
Mae said, but she quieted when Terel gave her a quelling look.

Terel jerked at her plum-dyed kid gloves. “I apologize if Mr. Montgomery’s actions were misconstrued, and I would appreciate it if you would stop spreading gossip that has no basis in truth.”

She pushed through the young women, purposely stepping on the lace of Mae’s dress as she passed.

“What about your heart palpitations?” Mary Alice called after her.

“Her heart is fine, it’s her temper that needs doctoring,” Charlene said, and all four women dissolved into giggles.

Terel was very angry as she started walking home. How dare Nellie do this to her! As if she didn’t have enough problems, what with so many other unmarried women in Chandler, to have her own sister betray her like this was more than she could bear!

She stormed all the way down Coal Avenue, and every block someone stopped her to ask about Nellie.

“Who was the heavenly man with her?”

“It looks like Nellie may beat you to the altar,” Mr. Mankin said, laughing.

“I hear they’re going to the Harvest Ball together,” Mrs. Applegate said. “Do you think you’ll be invited after what happened last year?”

“I never realized how pretty Nellie was until today,” Leora Vaughn said. “I think I’ll invite her to my garden party.”

“Terel,” Sarah Oakley said, “you must bring Nellie with you to next week’s church social.” She laughed. “This town isn’t going to let you hide Nellie away any longer.”

By the time Terel reached the sanctity of her house, her blood was boiling. She was ready to tear Nellie to pieces. How dare she act like this? How dare she call attention to herself like this?

Terel went first to the kitchen, then to the garden, but Nellie wasn’t in either. Nor was she anywhere else in the house. It took Terel a few minutes to realize that Nellie was still out with Mr. Montgomery.

She sat down hard on a footstool in the parlor. Nellie was
always
home. Since Terel was a little girl, Nellie had been at home waiting for her. She remembered coming home from school, and Nellie would be in the kitchen ironing. Nellie had only been fourteen then, so she’d had to stand on a box to be high enough for the ironing board, but when Terel returned she’d get down and get milk and cookies for her.

Now Terel put her little handbag on the table and noted with disgust that the surface was dusty. Slowly, she got up and went back to the kitchen. Usually the place was neat and clean, but now the big table was covered with flour and there was a lump of dried, cracked dough to one side. The door had been left open, and flies buzzed over everything. The fire in the stove had gone out.

In the other rooms downstairs everything was dusty. If Nellie didn’t constantly stay on that lazy Anna, the girl did nothing. Now, with Nellie having been gone most of the day, Anna was probably sleeping somewhere.

Upstairs, the rooms were as bad. The bathroom hadn’t been cleaned, and her father’s whisker-filled lather had dried on the basin. In Terel’s room clothes were everywhere. This morning she’d had a difficult time deciding what to wear today, and all the clothes she’d decided against were still strewn about the room. On the bed was the pink taffeta that Terel had expressly asked Nellie to repair, but the skirt was still torn at the waist.

She went to her father’s room, and it didn’t look much better than her own. His clothes from the day before were on the floor, and six pairs of shoes had been set out for Nellie to polish, but all six were still dusty.

Terel moved down the hall. Nellie’s room was, as always, neat and tidy, but it was the only bit of order in the chaotic house.

Thoughtfully, Terel went back downstairs to the parlor. From what the townspeople had been saying, whatever was going on between Nellie and Mr. Montgomery was serious. Serious as in permanent. Serious as in taking Nellie away.

Terel looked at the dusty parlor and thought about the rooms upstairs. If Nellie got married and left the house, who would have to see to the cooking and cleaning? She knew her father wouldn’t bother himself. Although Nellie tended to look at their father through rose-colored glasses, Terel saw him for what he was. He was as tightfisted a man as had ever lived. Terel had an idea that her father’s freight company made quite a bit of money, but Charles Grayson wasn’t about to part with any more of it than he could help. That’s why they lived in a very ordinary house and had only one very bad, but cheap, servant. Charles wouldn’t part with his precious money to raise their standard of living.