"It really wasn't her fault."
Three weeks had passed since that disastrous dinner party, the day I had returned home. I barely spoke to my sister-in-law, which had earned my brother's attention. It was impossible to know whether he had noticed it himself or if he only noticed because of Angelica's complaints.
"She fired Sally Emerson," I reminded him, keeping my eyes on my books. Mother was sleeping, and I'd hoped to have an hour of peace in the parlor. But my brother had come in and I was certain our conversation would not be relaxing. "She didn't have to do that."
John paused and cleared his throat. "She had her reasons for that," he responded. "Sally must have done something wrong."
"Sally told me that's not the case."
"You spoke to Sally?"
I looked at him over the top of my book. He was still dressed in his Sunday finery. I considered informing him that he had dripped some soup on his vest, but decided not to. He was a grown man capable of overseeing his appearance.
"Of course I spoke to Sally," I told him. My tone may have been sharper than was absolutely necessary, but I was annoyed. I only ever had moments to myself anymore. "Who else would I speak to about what happened when Angelica refused to do so?"
My brother shifted from foot to foot. "Well, you shouldn't have expected her to tell the truth. Why would she admit that she did something wrong?"
"Sally has never lied before," I informed him, offended on behalf of the maid. "She told me that Angelica didn't give her a reason as to why she had to leave, just sent her off without a letter of recommendation. And she didn't even pay Sally's last week of wages."
I'd been horrified when I'd heard all of this. Angelica had not been even a little fair in the situation. Sally hadn't thought she'd done something to offend the woman. My promise to write a letter of recommendation mollified her a little.
"There must have been a misunderstanding—"
I slammed my novel shut. "Well, then, it is time the misunderstanding was cleared up. Pay Sally what she is owed," I said sharply. "And while you're at it, explain why another maid hasn't been hired? Mary Eastlake's sister, Susan, is looking for a position, but Angelica said no."
"I don't interfere with how my wife manages the house, just as she does not interfere with how I manage the bank," John answered, his tone defensive. "If Angelica hadn't hired anyone, it must mean we can manage without a maid. Not everyone has that kind of luxury, you know. It isn't as though this is Britain or even one of the big cities here in America."
My hands, coarsened by the weeks of washing, scrubbing, and cooking, curled into fists. "Mother needs my care, John, and I can't give it if I am kept tied to the kitchen," I pointed out, my temper rising with every minute. "What if I wasn't here? Where would you be then?"
He let out a laugh. "Where would you be if you weren't here?" John moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. "Maryanne will only need your help for a few months at most. After the dinner party you refused to attend, I doubt Mr. Willis is interested in your company."
Did he realize how cruel he sounded? I don't think he did, the oblivious idiot.
"First of all, Maryanne hasn't invited me to come help her for any length of time," I told him, keeping my tone at a controlled level. "She has not even hinted that she might want me to come when her time comes."
"Oh. Well, Angelica was certain you would go. She is our sister, after all, and we should help each other when we can."
Although I could never claim my brother and I were close when we were growing up, I thought we at least had some understanding of each other. We'd all be raised by the same parents, who'd helped us to be as independent as we could. Just because one of us did something, did not mean the rest of us needed to do so as well.
"In any event, I will not go where I am not invited," I said firmly, trying to refocus the conversation. "If Maryanne asks, I might go. It depends on how Mother is. Mother's health must come first."
John hesitated and then inclined his head as if to acknowledge the point. "What else? You started off with 'first of all."
"Second of all, I have never encouraged Mr. Willis' interest in me. Mother has also expressed her unease with Mr. Willis' persistence. Marriage to him was never an option. Do not mention it as though I should be disappointed."
My brother's neck redenned. "My apologies. I didn't think you were one of those women who were against marriage."
If that wasn't meant as provocation, I don't know what was.
"You would do well to consider that I will not always be here. I am happy to help, but if Angelica is relying on me to manage everything, what will happen when I am no longer here to cook, clean, or keep up with the sewing?"
John's usual cheerful expression slipped to confusion. "What do you mean? Where would you be going?" he asked.
"I am considering marriage."
"Marriage?" he repeated. "But you just said—"
"Mr. Willis is not the only man in the world, thank the Lord," I interrupted. "It is not important who I might marry, since it is not a set thing. I'm just mentioning it because things cannot remain as they are. Either Angelica finds a maid, or I will."
"Of course it is important who you marry!" my brother exclaimed, his voice rising. "Is it someone you met at our aunt's farm? Is it a farmer? Why is this the first I am hearing about this?"
Frustrated, I put my book aside and stood up. "No, and no, to your first two questions. I'm done talking about this. If Angelica has not taken any steps to hire a maid by tomorrow, I will hire Susan Eastlake, who will work for me. Angelica will not be able to give her any orders."
My brother stared at me, looking completely shocked. "Where is this coming from? You're not behaving like yourself."
I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. "I'm not, am I? Well, I will do something a little more normal. I'm going to visit Molly. I do not know when I will be back for supper. Someone will need to check on Mother in an hour or so."
"W-what?" my brother spluttered as I strode to the door. "Elizabeth! This isn't—! Wait just a moment!"
One of us would say something we would later regret if I remained in the house. The conversation had already turned into a disaster, and we were only going around in circles. I ignored John and left the house. The cloud sky suited my already dark mood.
It was possible Molly was watching for me or maybe she had been about to go somewhere, for she stepped out onto her porch as I reached the steps. "Let's walk to the river," she said.
~*~
Two hours later, Molly and I were still sitting on the banks of the Wabash river. My friend had listened to ym talk without comment. "Well?" I asked, knowing she must have an opinion. She usually did. "How badly have I messed up?"
"Well, I don't think you have been at your best, but it is understandable why that is," she said, picking up a stone. She tossed it at the slow moving water. "Honestly, it sounds like there has been a lot of miscommunication on the part of multiple people. Did you even tell your brother you were frustrated before you snapped at him?"
My cheeks flushed. "No, but—"
"Sometimes men, especially brothers, can be astonishingly blind. If Angelica told him you were fine doing all that you have been doing, why would he think any differently if you didn't tell him?" Molly shook her head. "Not that it excuses your sister-in-law for her part in it, but you know how important communication is. I bet you never mentioned that you felt put upon."
That...was embarrassingly true. "How am I supposed to start that conversation without sounding like I was complaining? 'Pardon me, John. Your wife's expectations are too high and I am sick of it?'"
"That would have been a good start," she said. "The hardest things in life are often worth the effort, you know. Have you even told your family about Mr. Coleman? I'm guessing you haven't given your brother's surprise that you are considering marriage."
If anything, my cheeks flamed with even more embarrassment. "No, I haven't. There just hasn't been a good opportunity."
"So you say. I thought matters were getting serious between you and Mr. Coleman."
Dropping my gaze, I fingered one of the cool rocks on the ground. "John would find something to disapprove of. I enjoy Noah—Mr. Coleman's letters, but he hasn't asked me to marry him yet."
"Do you really think you need to wait until that point to tell your brother you are being courted?"
Shrugging my shoulders, I couldn't think of anything to say to that. "Do you think he is a trickster or fraud?" was Molly's next question.
"Of course not!" I exclaimed, surprised by the question. "He has gone out of his way to reassure me that his intentions are honorable. If I thought he was not being honest, I wouldn't have kept writing to him."
"So why haven't you told the rest of your family about him?"
Sighing, I shook my head. "As I said, John will have something to say about it and if I tell him, he will tell everyone! Everyone says women are terrible gossips, but I think my brother is the worst."
"Is that the only reason? You could have written to Maryanne about it. It isn't as though she can tell any of our neighbors about it."
What was she trying to get at? "I'm not ashamed of Noah Coleman," I told her sharply.
"But you are afraid of what people might think," Molly pointed out. "Because of all the opinion articles that have been in the papers recently. You're afraid of what our neighbors might say about you. Are you afraid they will think you are desperate to be married?"
"I'm not desperate," I said swfitly. I really wasn't desperate to be married. I'd always believed it would be nice, but I could be happy whatever my circumstances.
Well, that's what I'd always believed until my brother and sister-in-law moved into my home.
"Of course you aren't desperate," Molly said, linking her arm with mine. "No one has said any such thing, so there's really no reason to think that they might begin to think it now. But the articles still worry you."
I opened my mouth to object, but couldn't actually say the words. Deep down, I was afraid of what people might say. The recent articles had been weighing on my mind, especially since a few months ago, I would have taken them as fact and fully believed this kind of correspondence only brought trouble.
"I suppose you should just consider whether you are the kind of girl who would allow herself to be influenced by peer pressure."
Was it really so bad to care what others thought?
"Anyway, when you marry your Mr. Coleman, you won't be around to hear what any of the neighbors say anyway, so why give it any importance now?"
"When?" I repeated with a slight laugh. "You are that certain I'll marry him?"
"If, by this point, you'd decided against it, I would hope that you would have done so. It would be cruel to waste Mr. Coleman's time if you weren't going to marry him," Molly said seriously. "Honestly, Lizzie, why do you care so much what our nieghbors might think."
"What if it would reflect badly on my parents?" The question left my lips as a whisper.
Molly tilted her head. "What do you mean? How would it reflect badly on them?"
"Surely there will be some who will say that there was some fault in my education that meant I couldn't find a husband here." As I spoke, I realized just how little sense that made. "Like they might think my parents did something wrong."
"And?" My friend hesitated before she continued, "Even if someone were to think it reflects ill on your parents—though I'm not sure how that logic works in your head—how much longer will your mother be alive to hear it? Your father is already gone. Malicious gossip doesn't affect him anymore."
Her words sent a chill into my heart. I glanced over my shoulder. "I shouldn't have left her alone." Why had I been so impulsive? I'd seen how Mother had been left alone when I'd visited my aunt.
"Oh, pish. You cannot do everything alone, Lizzie, and it is well past time you had some help."
Guilt still lingered, though I knew she had a point. Maybe if John saw for himself what needed to be done for Mother, he would understand my point of view. But if he didn't, I would have let Mother suffer again for no reason than that I'd let my temper get the better of me.
"You were right when you told your brother that they can't just assume you'll always be here to take care of the hard tasks," Molly conitnued. "If your Mr. Coleman were to write to you today and ask you to join him in Wyoming, what would your answer be?"
"I would say yes," was my immediate response. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. To see a new territory and meet someone who had been so kind and interesting in his letters would be.... I paused, "But mother—"
"Would not want you to give up your future because of her," Molly interrupted me once again. "If you were to ask her, she would say as much. You don't have to take my word for it. Ask her what you should do."
Wouldn't that be heartless of me? Selfish at the very least! Why should Mother have to suffer because I wanted to leave? "If, as you say, my mother..." I hesitated before I forced the words out, "If she doesn't have much longer, wouldn't it be better for me to wait? I can go west when she...no longer needs my care."
Molly paused. "What if she is waiting for you to be settled?" she asked slowly.
It was on the tip of my tongue to deny that idea, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. I was the last of my siblings to marry. Was it possible my mother was hanging on to life because I was still single? Because she was concerned about what would happen to me when she wasn't here?
"Well..." I sighed and stretched out my legs in front of me. The older ladies in town would be shocked to see me in such an improper pose. "It seems I have a lot of communication I need to do with my family."
"And you can start tomorrow." Molly tossed another stone at the water. "I have you all to myself and I am not letting you go until nine o'clock tonight. I haven't told you about the photography lessons Mr. Vanderson has been giving me."
"You're getting lessons?" It was a relief to talk about something other than what was happening in my life.
~*~
On Monday morning, Angelica informed me that Susan Eastlake would begin working that day. Her tone was resigned and resentful. Something I said the day before had convinced my brother, or was it that he had seen for himself that our mother needed care?
Whatever the reason, I tried to be gracious when I heard the news. After all, what was important was that I would have the time to give Mother the care she needed. Gloating would only make things more difficult than they already were.
Mother was not doing well. I wasn't sure if it was the change of weather as the summer heat increased or it was the natural progression in her illness. She would cough until she had no energy to continue, only to weakly cough and struggle to breathe.
Though Dr. Peters brought medicine, he could not offer any hope. He encouraged us to use the laudanaum to help her get some rest, but Mother often refused. In a way, I could understand. She wanted to keep her wits about her as much as possible. It was only late at night that she would consent to a few drops.
"What does...your young man...have to tell you...this week?" Mother managed to ask three days after Angelica hired the new maid. Beads of sweat were on her forehead, and I gently waved the fan to get some air movement. Outside was still, signalling the approach of a storm.
"I haven't checked for his letter today," I answered, flushing at the phrase 'my young man'. After my heated letter to him about everything that I was angry about, I wasn't sure what to expect from him. Would he be understanding of my complaints? Or would he think I was too much of a shrew?
"You should...go."
"There's time enough for me to go later today." Once Mother was sleeping, I planned on walking to the post office. Hot though it was, it would be some fresh air. Hopefully, I could go before it stormed. If not, perhaps rain would cool the air.
"Has he...asked...you to...come to him?" Though it took so much energy to get the words out, I could see that she was determined to speak her mind. She was watching me with an intent expression in her blue eyes.
"Not yet," I said honestly. Molly's words from Sunday echoed in my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to ask if she thought I should go.
Mother's left hand moved to cover mine, and she squeezed my fingers. "When he does...go," she said, her voice becoming firmer than it had been all week. "Don't hesitate. Don't...overthink it."
"I won't leave you like this," I objected, squeezing her fingers in return. Part of me wanted to make a joke that she couldn't get rid of me that easily, but it didn't seem appropriate.
"Yes, you will! You've...spent enough...of your...life...taking care...me and...your father," she said, her voice becoming labored. "Promise me, Elizabeth. If Mr...Coleman will make...you happy...go to him when...he asks."
How could I refuse? "I promise," left my lips before I could think better of it. "If he asks, and I am certain he will be a good husband, I will go west."
Immediately, Mother's face relaxed and she nodded. "Don't...break...your word, she said, her expression satisfied. "I...didn't...raise you..to be...a liar..."
"No, you didn't."
If only I knew then, what his next letter would contain.
~*~
Dear Noah,
What are the other seasons like in Wyoming? When it is winter, I always look forward to summer. When it is summer, I long for the days of winter. It is hot and humid right now, so I am thinking about snow.
I'm afraid my mother is not doing well. I never knew how awful consumption was before this. I mean, I'd always heard it was a terrible disease, but to watch it happen is something else entirely. I am writing this while she is sleeping...
I have just received your letter. I appreciate your honesty, but I need to think.
Elizabeth