“That’s wonderful. Sitting there would be like sitting in a boat on the water.”
“Without the danger of leaks.” He grinned. “Ah, well, maybe someday I can build what I want.”
Others began arriving along the river, the children whooping and tossing rocks into the water while their parents juggled blankets, baskets, and plates of food. Several men had brought banjos and fiddles, and soon the air was filled with music. Sophie spotted Robbie and Ethelinda and the elder Whitings arriving for the fireworks. She’d seen Mrs. Whiting in church only once since her visit
to the bookshop. She had forgiven Ada’s old friend for her thoughtless remark, but the memory still rankled.
She and Robbie hadn’t spoken again about the secret she was keeping from Ethan. Now, watching the last of the sunlight glinting on Ethan’s rich brown hair, she was overcome again with regret. Ethan was becoming more important to her as the summer went on. One day she would have to tell him the truth, and then he would want nothing more to do with her. But not now. Not yet.
Ethan set aside his notebook, opened the basket, and took out a small white cloth bearing the Blue Smoke monogram. He opened a silver carafe and poured lemonade into two stemmed goblets. Touching his glass to hers, he smiled into her eyes. “To Founders Day. And to a lovely evening.”
The lemonade was ice cold, tart, and lightly sweet. Sophie savored the taste of it and watched translucent bits of lemon pulp settling in the bottom of the glass. She took another sip before setting her glass onto the small silver tray Ethan had taken from the basket. After that came small water biscuits topped with glistening caviar, three kinds of cheese on crusty bread, tiny rolls of paper-thin ham, slices of fresh melon, and for dessert a feather-light pastry filled with warm chocolate.
“This was delicious, Ethan.” Sophie held out her glass for a refill of the lemonade. “Please tell the cook I enjoyed every single bite.”
Footsteps sounded behind them, and Mayor Scott appeared, towering over them. “There you are, Miss Caldwell.”
Sophie licked the last of the chocolate from her fingers and dabbed at her lips with a thick linen napkin. “Good evening, Mayor.” She inclined her head toward Ethan. “I’m sure you know Mr. Heyward.”
“Of course.” The mayor nodded to Ethan. “But it’s you I wanted to see.”
“Oh?”
“I thought you’d want to know the council plans to hear Miss Gilman’s harebrained scheme for that infirmary of hers. A week from Thursday. I’m sure you’ll want to be there to gloat.”
“To gloat, Mr. Scott?” She set her glass onto the tray.
“Well, you kept harassing me and the boys with those editorials of yours until you got our womenfolk all stirred up, and now can’t any of us have a moment’s peace in our own homes.”
Sophie bit back a laugh. “If I’ve caused people to talk about the important issues in our town, then I’ve done my job. But I hope you won’t decide that the plan is harebrained until you’ve heard what Miss Gilman has to say.”
“Hiram?” Molly Scott ambled over and took her husband’s arm. “The music is startin’. Are you going to sit with me for the fireworks or ain’t you?” She nodded to Sophie. “Hello, Miss Caldwell.”
“Mrs. Scott.”
Ethan got to his feet and dusted off the seat of his dungarees. “Evening, Mrs. Scott.”
“Don’t be getting up on my account, boy.” Molly motioned Ethan back to his spot on the grass. “I only come to fetch the mayor. The Pruitts came with us, and they’ll be wonderin’ where we got to.”
The mayor offered a curt nod, then turned and walked away. Molly winked at Sophie. “Reckon I’ll see you at that hearin’.”
When they had gone, Ethan packed up the remains of their feast and stowed the glasses, trays, and plates in the basket. Then they sat side by side, shoulders almost touching. The first of the fireworks exploded over the river in a shower of bright white sparks that winked out one by one as they fell. The music gave way to exclamations of awe and delight from the assembled crowd.
“I’ve been meaning to go up on the ridge,” Ethan said, “to look for a spot for the photography studio. Why don’t you come with me? We’ll start early and make a day of it.”
“I’d love to, but it depends on which day. The paper—”
“Stanhope can take over for one day, can’t he?”
They watched another shower of red and blue sparklers streak across the dark sky.
“Perhaps. I’m caught up on your printing orders, and we’ve started setting type for the next issue. But I promised the Ladies Benevolent Society an article about the quilt raffle they’re organizing for the harvest festival. And Mr. Webster asked me to write a piece about the new curriculum he’s planning for the next school term. He’s hoping parents will encourage the older children to get a head start on the required reading.” She wrinkled her nose. “I told him I’d print it, but I can’t imagine even the most serious students giving up their summer trying to decipher
Macbeth
. Honestly, the least he could have done was to choose one of Mr. Shakespeare’s comedies.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The scene with the witches and the cauldron and the spooky chant holds a certain appeal.”
She laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”
Another burst of color lit the sky. The music began again.
“That’s the last of the fireworks,” Ethan said. “We should start back.”
He held out his hand and drew her to her feet. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to make the trip. You’ll come with me, then?”
“If Caleb is available to look after things.”
“Good. I’ll ask the cook to pack another basket for us.” He bent his head to hers. “Congratulations, S. R. Caldwell.”
“What for?”
“For convincing the mayor and the council to let Miss Gilman speak.” He clasped her hand and held it. “I’m proud of you, Sophie.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. As much as she wanted Ethan’s approval, his words were like shards of glass in her heart. Would he be proud of her if he knew the truth?
The smells of cornbread and beef stew wafted up the Verandah’s stairwell, teasing Sophie’s nose. Although she’d had an unusually busy day and eaten nothing since breakfast, she was too nervous to eat now. In an hour the mayor and council would convene at Sheriff McCracken’s office, which doubled as the town hall, to consider Gillie’s request for her infirmary. Though Sophie had done little more than write the inciting editorials, because of her friendship with Gillie, she almost felt as if it were her project too.
“Sophie Caldwell.” Lucy Partridge’s voice echoed in the stairwell. “If you aren’t down here in ten seconds, I’m coming up there and dragging you down. You’ve got to eat something.”
“Coming.” With a last look in the mirror, Sophie tucked her notebook and a clean handkerchief into her reticule and hurried down to the dining room.
Several of the Verandah’s other residents were already at their places around Lucy’s table. Sophie smiled and nodded to the ones she knew by name—Mabel Potts and Merribelle Winters, young women who shared the room across the hall from hers; Miss Pritchard, the baker’s ancient assistant; and Flora Burke, the stout, serious-faced woman with graying hair who came and went from her work at Blue Smoke with few words for anyone.
Lucy, her thick curls lying damp along the back of her neck, bustled about setting out fresh butter for the hot cornbread, pitchers of water and cold milk, and bowls of thick stew. “You ladies be sure and save some room for blackberry cobbler. It’s Flora’s recipe.”
Sophie’s stomach clenched. Blackberry cobbler reminded her of Robbie and their summer adventures along the river, the blackberry brambles catching at the hem of her dress, the creak of their metal bucket, the hot sun pressing on their heads. And thinking of Robbie reminded her of her dilemma with Ethan. Next week, when she accompanied him to the top of the ridge, she would tell him the truth. He would either accept her or reject her, but at least her conscience would be clear.
She took her seat and unfolded her napkin. Lucy set a bowl of stew in front of Sophie, a smile in her eyes. “Eat every bite. You’ll need your strength for the meeting tonight.”
Sophie picked up her spoon. “I’m going only to report on the proceedings. And to offer moral support to Gillie, of course.”
“As we all are.” Flora Burke buttered a square of cornbread. “Knoxville has a modern infirmary. I don’t see why Hickory Ridge can’t have one too.”
“Knoxville is bigger’n we are,” Miss Pritchard said. “And folks there have more money.”
“But now that the resort is here, our town is prospering again.” Lucy filled a bowl for herself and took her place at the end of the table. “When Aunt Maisie passed on, this place was a wreck. I never imagined I’d be able to fix it up. But thanks to Blue Smoke, every room has been taken for the past year.” She brushed a damp curl off her face and ate a spoonful of stew. “That’s why I was able to put in new windows and paint the porch.”
“Now if only you could do something about this infernal heat,” Flora said darkly. “My room is on the third floor, and it’s like
sleeping in an oven up there, even with those fancy new windows of yours standing wide open.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Burke.” Lucy poured Flora another glass of water. “It’s July in Hickory Ridge. What can I do?”
Flora snorted. “Pray for rain, I reckon.” She finished her stew and pushed her bowl away. “Guess I’ll forget about the cobbler and get ready for the council meeting. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Me either.” Mabel swiped her mouth with a napkin. “I think Miss Gilman is wonderful. I want to go away for nurse’s training too, if I can ever save enough money.”
Flora got to her feet. “The folks up at Blue Smoke leave extra money for the maids every night. You’ll be rich as cream one of these days.”
“Maybe,” Merribelle said as Flora crossed the parlor and started up the stairs. “It’s hard work, but the pay is good. And those Chinese cooks make the best meals.” She patted her flat stomach. “I bet I’ve gained ten pounds already.”
Miss Pritchard frowned at Merribelle over the top of her gold-rimmed spectacles. “Best keep your figure if you ever hope to marry.” She motioned to Lucy. “Since I’m not expecting any suitors, I’ll have some cobbler if you don’t mind.”
Lucy pushed back from the table. “Anyone else?”
Sophie shook her head. “I’m too nervous to eat any more. I’m going to the sheriff’s office to wait with Gillie.” She rose and took her dishes to the sink.
“We’ll see you later, then.” Lucy took the pan of cobbler from the windowsill and spooned up a heaping portion for Miss Pritchard.
Sophie checked her reflection in the hall mirror, then headed out the front door and down the street. Even this late in the day the sun was brutal, though rain clouds were gathering on the horizon. Perhaps Flora Burke’s prayers would be answered.
Approaching the sheriff’s office, she spotted a line of rigs and wagons parked along the street. Knots of women dressed in their best clothes and fanciest hats stood talking quietly in lengthening shadows under the trees, fanning themselves in the oppressive heat. She caught sight of Carrie Rutledge and waved, then went inside Sheriff McCracken’s office. Opposite his desk, a row of chairs had been set up, five of them reserved for Mayor Scott and the council. Judging from the crowd waiting outside, the meeting was sure to be standing room only.
In the back of the jail, a cell door clanked shut. The sheriff ambled into his office, a coffee cup in one hand. He smiled at Sophie. “Evening, Miss Caldwell. Been to any riots lately?”
“Did I miss one?” Sophie took her notebook from her reticule and claimed a chair nearest the window. Not that there was much of a breeze. Already beads of perspiration were forming on her forehead. She blotted her face with her handkerchief.
McCracken grinned. “Nope. All’s quiet since the transient workers left town. Except for Tad Holloway, who’s back in his regular cell, sleeping off too much strong drink.” He sat down behind his desk and his chair creaked. “These days about all I’m doing is rounding up drunks and serving legal notices.”
“Cheer up. Maybe something spectacular will happen one of these days. A bank robbery, for instance.”
He laughed. “I’d just as soon things stay quiet. How are things at the paper?”
“Busy. Caleb Stanhope is working for me part-time.”
“So I heard.”
The door opened and Gillie rushed in. She wore her hair in a cascade of curls held away from her face with silver combs. A dark blue skirt, white shirtwaist, and blue jacket completed her ensemble. Spotting Sophie, she hurried across the room, her skirts belling out behind her, and threw both arms around her friend.
“I’m so excited I can’t stand still. Did you see how many people are waiting outside?”
Sophie grinned. “Won’t the mayor be surprised to see such a show of support?”
“I hope they’re here to endorse my idea and not to disparage it.” Gillie turned. “Hello, Sheriff McCracken.”
“Miss Gilman.” He nodded. “Reckon I’ll go on outside for a bit.” He checked his watch. “Council ought to be arriving soon, and we’ll get started.”
He left, and Gillie plopped down beside Sophie. “I hope I don’t forget my speech. I’ve been practicing all day, in between looking after Mrs. Pruitt’s cough and the Mitchells’ baby.” She frowned. “I’m really worried about him. I’ve been fighting his fever for a week, and he can’t seem to shake it.”