A Carol Plays (Cutter's Creek Book 13) Read online

  “I know you can get there, but let me be the gentleman I’m expected to be and take you there.”

  She peered up into his face. His eyes were stormy once again, and she found she couldn’t say no. He sensed her willingness and folded her hand over his arm, leading her down the narrow shoveled path.

  “I saw the chapel when I came into town. It’s quite a unique building. Most churches are brick, or whitewash, but red? It looks a little like a barn.”

  “It’s always been that way. I guess I’ve never questioned why and I don’t know anything different. It really is the center of the community.” She slowed her pace and he matched it. “How long do you think you’ll be here? Can Father be helped?” If the doctor couldn’t help him, she would have to find a husband quickly.

  “I don’t think he has Polio, if that’s what you’re asking, but I’m not sure what he does have. The only thing that seems to help him is sleep, which is difficult with the pain he’s in. I don’t want to give him medication to sleep every night, but it does seem to be helping some. I don’t think I’ll be here much beyond Christmas, assuming of course the train resumes by then.”

  “It should. They do try to keep the lines clear.” She frowned. Only two weeks or so to make a man fall in love. It could be done…it had to be done. She turned and smiled at him. “That means you will be here for the skate and sugar plum social. Father won’t go anymore; do you think you will attend?”

  “Are you trying to get me to ask you, Miss Williams?” He laughed, stopping so he could swing her around in an elegant twirl.

  She watched her dress spin and stop, letting her gaze roam the snowy trail. The path was not shoveled as well as Manning had done and she pushed around clods of snow with her toe.

  “If I did ask you, would you say yes?” He held her elbow tighter, moving along again, guiding her over an area that had already drifted back after someone had shoveled too early.

  She stopped and gazed in his eyes. “I would only want you to ask me if you truly wanted to take me.”

  His hand lifted her chin, and she was sure he would lean over and kiss her right in the street. Her heart raced as she blinked, not sure if she should pull back or lean forward.

  “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t want to take you. Who else do I know here that I could go with?”

  She pulled back from him. “Well, here we are. The chapel is only a little further, and I can see the way is shoveled. Thank you, Dr. Gentry, for walking me this far.” She rushed forward before he could see her or the hurt his words had caused. Who else, indeed.

  Chapter Seven

  Manning trudged back toward the Williams house, kicking balls of snow in his path. What could he possibly have said to make her run from him? She was a mystery to be sure. Although he could tell she found him intriguing, he hadn’t expected the bit of fun she’d just shown him. How long had it been since he’d let down his professional front and let himself enjoy life? He couldn’t remember.

  He turned and glanced behind him at the little chapel. She’d run away so fast, she hadn’t answered him about the social. He couldn’t very well ask her father. He’d been adamant Carol was to be avoided. He directed his thoughts back to the man waiting for him. He didn’t have Polio, but what he did have, or if it something Carlton should be worried about. Carol’s face when she’d asked about her father had about done him in. She obviously cared deeply for her father despite their strained relationship at the moment. He couldn’t help but feel aggrieved at the position Carol continually put him in as a father.

  He entered the house and hung up his wet coat. Carlton waited for him in the parlor in a chair by the fire.

  “Thank you, Doctor, for your help with the walk. I wasn’t sure how I would get that done. I don’t remember being this stiff a year ago. Seems like I lose more movement every day.”

  Manning heard the question Carlton wouldn’t ask, if only he knew the answers. “I’ll have to consult my medical books. As soon as I have any idea of what it might be, we can talk. Let’s take a look at that leg and see if we can get some movement back in it.

  * * *

  Carol sat in the back of the little chapel and waited for Reverend Bligh to finish talking with someone she’d never seen before. Their voices little more than muffled whispers in the high-ceilinged building. She shifted on the pew then halted as the wood groaned under her. She glanced around to see if anyone noticed her. The building always calmed her down, but today she just wanted to talk to the reverend and then talk to Mrs. Camden about the social.

  She peeled her gloves off and touched her warm cheek. How close she had come to her first kiss…or had she? He was such a mystery. One minute he was flattering her, the next cold and distant.

  The reverend approached her seat and held out his hand, a jovial smile lighting his face in welcome. She took it and stood to greet him.

  “Miss Williams! Good to see you. I didn’t expect you out and about after the storm what with your father unable to clear the snow. I was going to check tonight and help if Josiah hadn’t done it already.”

  Of course he wouldn’t know about the doctor. Carol bit her lip. “Oh, it wasn’t Josiah,” she let slide out. “We have a doctor from the East staying with us for a short time to help Father. He cleared the snow. I haven’t seen Josiah since the wedding.”

  “I’m sure he and Penny will come back to the services and visit soon. They are full of the newness of marriage. No one is quite so interesting as a new bride.” He laughed. “What can I do for you today?”

  She glanced behind her to make sure Dr. Gentry had not followed. “Father has asked me to find a new housekeeper, and I’m not sure where to begin. I need someone who isn’t searching for a husband right away. I don’t want her to leave us, but is young enough that finding another position quickly won’t be a problem.” Carol kept her eyes on her folded hands in her lap and stumbled over her thoughts. How was it that other women didn’t seem to have the trouble of finding the right words when she always did? “I’m not so sure how long we will be able to keep her.”

  He patted her hands. “I understand. It just so happens about ten people came on the train at the head of the storm and are stranded here for a time until the railway can be cleared. Most want to leave immediately, but one, the young woman I just spoke to, is wanting to stay and become part of the community here...at least until she can earn her own passage. Her name is Ivy Masters. She is young, maybe twenty and comes from a family who is neither wealthy, nor poor. She has a story, that one, but isn’t ready to share it. I think she would do well to work in your home at your side, in the off-chance she might share what she is hiding from. You could help each other.”

  “She isn’t some woman of ill-repute, hiding from a madam, is she?” Carol felt the heat rush up her face and she clutched her coat together. Just the mention of a wanton woman brought to mind horror stories she’d overheard in whispers.

  Reverend Bligh turned so red Carol thought he would surely collapse. She’d done it again, said something too forthright, something a lady would never say.

  “I’m sure I-I don’t know,” he sputtered his gaze dancing around the chapel. “She is staying with the Camdens if you’re interested in speaking with her.” He stood. “Was that all?”

  She had the distinct feeling even if she wasn’t done, he was. “Thank you, sir.” She bowed her head. “I’ll go talk to her right away.” She backed away from him a few steps and turned to leave. The old wooden double door squeaked as she pushed them open.

  The bright downtown area of Cutter’s Creek was bathed in snow and sun and the glint of sparkle glared back at her. She had to squint just to see. Mrs. Camden was one of the people who helped with the social so visiting with her would be good anyway. She made her way toward the mercantile and peered inside the window.

  Mr. Hanover sat behind the counter bent over a ledger. He owned the mercantile now. She’d spent a good number of hours flirting with him in the past. Beau Rockford ha
d been another man she’d tried to get close to while he’d worked for Josiah. He’d disappeared right after Josiah’s wedding and no one knew where, though he often disappeared without a trace for months on end. Neither of them seemed quite as appealing after Dr. Gentry.

  She knocked lightly on the Camdens’ door, and a woman in a black simple dress with a starched white apron and cap opened the door.

  “Yes, miss?” Her grey eyes appeared old and tired in a face curled with age before her time.

  “I’m here to see Mrs. Camden. Carol Williams.”

  The door opened and Carol was ushered inside. The maid took her coat and folded it over her arm. “Wait here please.”

  She’d never seen anyone walk so fast in her life. The woman was obviously busy, and this visit had interrupted the household routine. Carol peered around the large foyer with its crystal teardrop chandelier glistening from the light pouring in through a bank of windows along the back wall and sending dancing rainbows over the wall at her side. It would be perfect for a ball or grand party, but the Camdens had never held such an event in their home, and she’d never set foot there until now.

  The Camdens had a long history in Cutter’s Creek but tended to be quiet rather than ostentatious. Mr. Camden had been asked on more than one occasion to be mayor, but he’d turned down the job every time.

  Mrs. Camden glided into the room, her dress the height of fashion. She wore a crisp white chemisette with a tailored velvet shirtwaist and slightly lighter green velvet waist-gathered skirt. Her hat was small and sat jauntily atop her head, pinned perfectly to her intricately coiffed hair. She smelled of talc and lavender. Carol felt her shoulders slump as she backed closer to the wall.

  “Miss Williams, a pleasure to have you stop by.” Her words hit with a blast of cold as if she’d just opened the icehouse door.

  Carol suddenly felt like a schoolgirl again, begging forgiveness of the schoolmarm. She curtsied nervously. “Yes…I, uh. I wanted to ask you about the planning for the social…and about your guest… Ivy Masters.”

  “I’m afraid Ivy is up resting right now. She had a rather long trip here from the East and still tires quite easily. As to the social,” her words hung in the air. “With the storm, I just went ahead and planned it. We will hold the sugar plum contest at the chapel along with the potluck. The ice skating will come right after we sup. I’ve arranged for some men to go over to the river and build some tall wooden poles with tar atop them. We should be able to light the poles and have our skate at night. That will be a first!” She almost smiled, but her face was as starched as her clothes.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Camden. I’m sorry I was not available to help with the planning.” Carol took a step backward.

  “If that father of yours would get some help, you could have made it. Everyone else on the committee was able to get through the snow. I warned Reverend Bligh about letting someone so young on the planning committee, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  Strange how her face can stretch for a frown, but she can’t manage a smile. “Again, I’m so sorry.” Carol curtsied and backed to the door, hitting the handle with her hip. She turned and fled the house, only realizing after she’d closed the door she’d forgotten her coat.

  Why was she forever doing silly things? The young woman with the older face poked her head out the door.

  “Oh good, miss. I’m so glad I didn’t have to run after you. You didn’t give me a chance to bring you back your coat.” The woman stepped outside, her glance darted around. “You were asking about Mrs. Ivy Masters? I’m afraid Mrs. Camden probably won’t let her see you. She snuck out earlier to go somewhere, and Mrs. Camden was in a fit of rage when she found out. I’m not sure what is going on, but the house has been in a terrible upheaval since that train dropped off all those people.”

  Carol stepped closer and collected her coat. “Is Mrs. Camden holding Ivy against her will?”

  The woman’s grey eyes widened and she glanced over her shoulder. “I can’t say that, miss. I’ve already said too much. I just wouldn’t expect her to come to call if I were you.” She turned and rushed back up the stairs, closing the door softly behind her.

  Chapter Eight

  Carol grabbed her apron from the hook in the kitchen and rolled on the white sleeves to protect her dress. She’d hoped Ivy could have come back with her to help with the meal. Maybe if her mother had taught her...but even if she had, a housekeeper had come shortly after her mother had passed, and she wouldn’t remember anyway. Carol sighed as she stirred the thick stew.

  Carlton lumbered into the kitchen and dropped onto a high stool, shifting his leg out to the side and sighing heavily as he got comfortable.

  “I didn’t expect to see you in here again. I know how much you dislike this chore,” Cartlon said.

  She heard the mirth in his voice. “I spoke to the Reverend and he gave me a reference, but she was not available when I went to call on her. It got late, so I came back here instead of searching elsewhere. I know how much you dislike to wait for your meals.” She smiled over her shoulder at him.

  “You might want to talk to Mrs. Camden, she is always hiring help. She was who I asked when I first hired a housekeeper.”

  Carol felt her heart race as if she were hiding something. “I did visit her, but we didn’t discuss housekeepers, rather we talked about the social. She talked about the social, how I was irresponsible to leave all the planning to her, which I had to do because of the storm. I don’t think I can go to her Papa, she doesn’t think very highly of me right now.”

  He drew in his breath and let it out. “If you had been a man, I would have advised you to go, but there was no one here who could have walked with you through that storm to make sure you’d make it. If she thinks so highly of her planning, then let her. She probably wouldn’t have let you help anyway.”

  “Thank you, Father. The stew will be ready shortly, is Doctor Gentry in the house? Shall I go get him?”

  “No. He worked over my leg today harder than I’d like. He decided to head over to the boarding house for a meal tonight. I didn’t see you come in or I would have told you.”

  “That’s fine. I can just add a bit to it, and we can finish it tomorrow.” She turned and kissed her father’s cheek. “I love you, Papa. I’ll set the table if you want to wash up.”

  * * *

  Carol shivered in her bed. The heat just couldn’t make it all the way up the stairs. If the doctor weren’t staying with them, she would have gone down to one of the rooms on the main floor to sleep. She’d even slept on the settee in front of the fire in years past. Of course, she’d been much younger then. Her fingers tingled and she rubbed them against her arms. Sleep just wouldn’t come when she was cold.

  Peeling off the covers, she yanked on her wool pelisse and crept downstairs to add wood to the fire. Perhaps it had burnt too low and no heat made it up the chimney. She added kindling and wood, mesmerized by the dancing flames and finally feeling heat reach her sore extremities.

  A shadow passed the mantle beside her, and she whipped around to see a dark shape cross the window. Carol jumped to her feet and rushed to the window as a figure in a black cloak fled up the shoveled walk and back toward the street.

  Carol plunged her feet into her father’s boots and ran outside, holding her cape closed against the chill.

  “You there! Stop!” she yelled.

  The figure turned its head but kept moving toward town. Carol ran, tripping over the large boots and snow drifts.

  “Stop, please! Who are you, and why were you peeping in my window?”

  The figure stopped and turned. Carol ran up to her panting and holding her cape in place. The hem of her nightgown was wet all the way to her knees and her breath came in great white puffs.

  “I’m sorry you saw me.” The clipped Queen’s English slipped from under the hood of a great black wool cape.

  “Who are you?” Carol craned her neck to try to see in the dark.

  “I could
ask you the same question. Lady Camden was rather incensed anyone would ask after me. I did ask the reverend to keep my name a secret, but apparently he isn’t Catholic.”

  “I’m Carol, and he thought you could help me…or that I could help you. I don’t honestly remember at this hour.”

  “The maid, Ida, told me you were the one inquiring after me and where I could find you. Can you help me or not?” Her shoulders were regal and her hands just so. Carol had practiced just that stance in the mirror and had never managed to master it...the appearance of a lady.

  “I can guess you are Ivy. I don’t know what you need so I can’t say if I can help you or not. I need a housekeeper. What do you need?” She held her jaw tight to keep her teeth from chattering. It wasn’t the first time this night she wished she’d left her stockings on.

  “I can help you for a time with your housekeeping, but when I earn enough to move on, I would like to.”

  “Can we have this talk in front of the fire? I’m going to catch my death out here.” Carol felt ice forming around her nose and resisted the urge to rub it, though she wanted to.

  Ivy strode past Carol, and she turned to follow. “I guess you’re leading the way,” she mumbled.

  Carol opened the door and hung up her wet mantle wishing she had another one so she could still wear one to sleep in. She turned and reached out for Ivy’s cape and found she’d hung it up on her own already.

  Ivy was petite with dark hair and eyes like black marbles in the dim firelight. Carol directed her over to the chairs in front of the fire. Ivy sat in the furthest one, leaving the other for Carol.

  “Why was Mrs. Camden keeping you in the house?” Carol held her hands out and let the heat seep into her cold blood.

  “That is a personal question, too personal for this interview. What you need to know is I am capable of cooking and cleaning, though it was foreign to me until about two years ago.”

  “I have no trouble hiring you as long as you can do one thing…can you teach me to act like you do?” She tried to make eye contact with Ivy’s eyes, but they were distant and captivated by the fire.