Courting Miss Callie. Dorothy Clark
supper.”
“Hmm. The guests should enjoy that. Perhaps some slaw, also.” Her aunt set the emptied basket on the floor at the end of the fireplace. “Have we any cabbages?”
So casual. So...disarming. “Yes. Mr. Hoffman brought us three large ones when he delivered the milk and cheese.” She rubbed her palms against her apron and moved toward the door. “I need to get eggs for breakfast.” And get outside before you continue questioning me about that slip of the tongue. She reached for her cape.
“You should have your own.”
Too late. Perhaps humor would divert her. “Eggs?”
“Children.”
“I believe one needs a husband to accomplish that.” She gave a little laugh and stepped toward the door, careful to keep her back toward her aunt.
“And that is another thing you should have, a husband. Since you were a little girl, all you’ve wanted was to be married and have a family. Why aren’t you married or betrothed, Callie? And don’t give me some nonsense about not being asked. I’m not blind. You are a sweet, intelligent and exceptionally beautiful young woman, gifted in the art of keeping a home. Yet you are still alone. Even most less attractive, less talented young women are married by your age. You’ll soon be twenty.”
Her aunt’s skirts rustled, the hems brushed against the floor and the soft pad of her slippers drew near. She blew out a slow breath and turned to face her.
“I know you’re troubled and unhappy, Callie. You’ve been hiding in this kitchen since you arrived.” Sophia rested a hand on her arm. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, dear? Is it your mother and father, because I—”
“No!” She clenched the cape in her hands as the lie burst from her mouth. Forgive me, Lord. “I mean, not exactly.” She groped through her memory for the explanation Willa had suggested the other night. “The truth is...there are men vying for my hand. I came to stay with you to gain time to decide what to do.”
“You mean, which man you will choose?”
“I—” She stopped, took a breath. Unless God intervened that is exactly what she would have to do. I’ve given it You, Almighty God. Have Your way. “Yes.”
She stood quietly under Sophia’s measuring gaze. She dare not look away, or close her eyes, or burst into tears, or do any of the things the pressure in her chest demanded she do.
Sophia’s lips pursed. She gave a series of small, almost imperceptible nods, reached out and took the cape from her. “Sit down, Callie.”
She stared down at her empty hands and made one more try. “The eggs...”
“We’ve time for a chat.” Sophia hung the cape back on a peg and gestured toward the table. “The guests won’t begin stirring until dawn breaks.”
She did as she was bid, braced herself as Sophia pulled a chair beside her, sat and took hold of her hand.
“Now, tell me...exactly what do you mean by ‘vying,’ dear? Do you mean these gentlemen are competing in courtship of you, for your heart? Or do you mean they are contending against each other with your father, who will sell his blessing on your marriage to the highest bidder?”
She tried her best, but the tears would not be stopped. They welled in her eyes. She blinked, and stared down at their joined hands.
“So Ellen was right.”
“Ellen?” She jerked her gaze to Sophia’s face.
“I ran into Frieda when I went for the mail yesterday. She asked how you were—said she’d been concerned about your state of mind ever since she received Ellen’s letter telling her how you’d run off without accepting any of the gentlemen who had received your father’s permission to pay court to you.”
She surged to her feet. “I should have known Ellen would write to her mother about me. And that Mrs. Hall would tell you.”
“They do like to gossip, dear. And, to be fair, Ellen is concerned about you.”
“Ha! She only wants to know when I will return so she can make her plans accordingly. There is no other woman on the Buffalo social circuit who can match Ellen’s beauty and she’s thrilled to have the attentions of all those wealthy men to herself. She’s after a rich husband, and does not bother to hide the fact. At least not from me. Well, Ellen is welcome to the whole, arrogant, self-serving, duplicitous lot of them!” She stopped and stared at Sophia, horrified by what she’d blurted.
“I hope you have made your feelings clear to Penelope and Edward.”
The sound of her mother’s and father’s names cooled her anger as effectively as a fire being doused by a bucket of the cold flood waters of the Allegheny. She folded her lips over her teeth, spun on her heel and walked to the stove. “I need some tea. Would you care for a cup, Aunt Sophia?”
“You haven’t told them you don’t wish to marry any of these men?”
She took the tin of tea off the shelf and reached for the china teapot. Sophia wasn’t going to give up. She chose her words. “I’ve tried. Father feels he knows what is best.”
“For you? Or for his purse?”
She gasped and whirled about, caution forgotten. “You know of their financial straits?”
Her aunt’s face went taut. “I know Edward was running through his inheritance like a fire through dry brush before he moved you all to Buffalo.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed on her. “How did you learn about it? I know Penelope is besotted with the man, but surely she wouldn’t tell—”
“No! No, Aunt Sophia, you mustn’t think that of Mother. I overheard Father telling her that if they moved to Buffalo and introduced me to the social circuit, a wealthy man would pay handsomely for my hand and their financial future would be secure.” Her voice broke. She sat the teapot on the worktable, and swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat.
“And you’ve been carrying that burden ever since. No wonder you’re troubled and unhappy.”
Sophia rose, marched toward her and gripped her upper arms. She stood frozen, awed by the sight of her aunt’s eyes flashing with violet sparks.
“Now you listen to me, Callie Rose Conner. The Lord did not see fit to bless me with children of my own, but He brought you into my life, and I’ll not see your life ruined by the selfish desires and wasteful habits of your father and mother.”
Sophia’s hands tightened on her arms, gave her a little shake. “You will not marry a man to fill your father’s purse. That is senseless. Edward will only run through the money the same as he has his inheritance, and, no doubt, in shorter time. And then what? You will be married to a man you don’t love and living a lifestyle you have no taste for—and your parents will be no better off than before.”
“But, Father and Mother need—”
“No, Callie, that way lies folly. You cannot save your parents from themselves—and I’ll not let you sacrifice yourself trying. You will live here with me until you meet a man you wish to marry. And should your parents find themselves in need, they are welcome to come live with me as well. Penelope is my sister and I’ll not see her in want. As for her wastrel husband—I’m quite sure he would enjoy strutting among my guests as if he owns Sheffield House.”
“Oh, Aunt Sophia—” Her throat closed. She threw her arms about Sophia’s neck, buried her head against her shoulder and burst into tears. Sophia’s arms closed around her.
“Hush, dear. There’s no reason to cry.”
“But, I thought—” she gulped back tears “—I thought I’d have to—”
“I know, Callie. But that’s over. Everything will be fine.”
Bootheels thudded on the