Over the Misty Mountains (18 page)

“I think that’s a wonderful attitude, Charlotte,” Anne said, smiling. “Will, sometimes I don’t think you recognize how fortunate you are to have a supportive young woman like Charlotte as your bride-to-be.”

“Of course I recognize that, Mother.” He reached over, patted Charlotte’s hand, and then rose. Walking to the sideboard, he poured himself a glass of water, drank it down thirstily, and left the room.

“Will is difficult sometimes, Charlotte,” Anne said slowly. “Basically he’s not as strong as his father, but I believe that can be remedied with the support of a good wife.”

Charlotte smiled and answered, “I think it will go well. He just needs a firm hand, and as for Patrick, I think we can take care of that when the time comes.”

“Perhaps the less said about it for now the better. My husband has a stubborn streak about that man. He’s never been able to see what kind of man Patrick really is.”

“Of course. You and I will have to see that it’s taken care of.”

They continued to sip chocolate, and the clock ticked across the room, keeping a regular cadence as the two women sat, carefully planning the lives of the Martins and the MacNeals. It was something that gave them both immense pleasure, and they were one in spirit as they set out the future for the family.

Chapter Eleven

Charlotte Van Dorn

Andrew and Sarah staggered down the steps, puffy-eyed from the lack of sleep, and made their way to the kitchen, where they found their parents already sitting at the large square table under the big window. Sarah burst out, “Papa, you didn’t send Rebekah to get me up early!” She ran and threw herself at him. He caught her, spun her around, and pulled her up into his lap.

“Early? Why, I couldn’t get you up before dawn, could I? Look, the sun’s just comin’ up.”

“I don’t care!” Sarah pouted. She jerked at his coat and said, “You promised!”

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted to get up by moonlight,” Patrick said. He winked at Andrew, who was standing a few feet away, and said, “Come here, boy, and give me your best grip. Put everything you’ve got into it now!”

Andrew stepped forward and grasped his father’s hand. He squeezed as hard as he could and looked up anxiously. His father was one of the strongest men he knew. He had seen him pick up loads at the warehouse that it took two men to pick up, and he felt worried sometimes that he would never be the man his father was. “You think I’ll ever be as strong as you are, Pa?” he asked anxiously.

“As strong as me? Why, you’ll be twice as strong as your old man. Here, sit down there and pitch into this breakfast that your Mother and Rebekah cooked for us now.” The two sat down, and Rebekah, who had come into the kitchen after the children, smiled at them. “I made enough breakfast to get you to Virginia and back, Mr. MacNeal.”

Patrick smiled at her warmly. “Put it on the table, Rebekah! There’s no cook like your mother—except yourself.”

Rebekah began bringing the breakfast to the table—a yellow bowl full of scrambled eggs, a rasher of bacon covered with a spotless white cloth, a bowl of mush, freshly churned butter, and a jug of cream. And last of all, she went over to the oven and pulled out a tray full of golden brown biscuits, which filled the kitchen with a delicious aroma.

“Nobody makes biscuits like you do, Rebekah,” Patrick said as she came to set the tray down. “Now, when you marry a man, if he’s not good to you, you just say, ‘No more biscuits for you.’”

“I wish you’d marry Uncle Will,” Sarah said. “That way we could always keep you here, and you could always make biscuits for all of us.”

Patrick laughed at the girl’s remark and shook his head. “You’re always wanting somebody to marry somebody else.”

“But Rebekah likes Uncle Will, don’t you, Rebekah?” Sarah insisted. “I don’t see why you can’t marry him instead of that snooty old Charlotte.”

“Sarah!” Elizabeth said sharply. “Don’t talk nonsense!”

Patrick looked up to see that Rebekah’s face was pale and her lips were drawn tightly together. She whirled and left the room without another word, and Patrick’s eyes sought Elizabeth’s. “Well, what was that all about?”

“Oh, she just doesn’t like to be teased, I think. Sarah, you ought to be more careful.”

Sarah stuffed her mouth full of eggs and looked thoughtfully at the door where the young woman had disappeared. “She does like Uncle Will, though. I can tell.”

“I said we’ll hear no more about it, Sarah!” Elizabeth said firmly.

Elizabeth had noticed that the girl was taken with Will, but she had thought it no more than a simple devotion to the family. Now, however, she knew better, and she wondered if she should have a talk with Rebekah.

Patrick talked about his trip for a while, and as he buttered a biscuit and layered it with blackberry jam, Andrew said, “Pa, tell us more about when you were a boy.”

“Not much to talk about, Andy. I got up before it was daylight and worked until the moon came up. That was about the story of my life.”

“Was it really that hard, Papa?” Sarah said.

“I hope you’ll never know how hard it was, Sarah.” He took a bite of the biscuit, then paused for a moment, chewing on it thoughtfully. Only on a few rare occasions had he spoken of his early life, for it had been a hard one. He had come from Scotland in 1754 seeking a better life. Looking at his family, he said, “You know, the day before my good father died he said, ‘Leave this place. Scotland has nothing to offer you. Go to a new country.’ I asked him which one, and he said, ‘Go to the Colonies. You won’t have to spend the rest of your life working for an English landlord.’” He swallowed the biscuit, stared at the other portion in his hand, and said softly, “I remember he said, ‘Be your own man, boy. Work your own land, and you won’t have to take your hat off to anybody.’”

Elizabeth sipped her coffee slowly. She herself knew very little of Patrick’s early life, except that it had not been easy for him. Now she watched the faces of the children, and somehow she felt sad that she had never met Patrick’s father.

“How did you get to the Colonies?” Andrew piped up.

“When my father died, and my sister married, there was no place for me anymore. So I walked to Belfast and went aboard the first ship I saw and asked them if they were sailing for America.” Patrick grinned, his handsome face and laughing eyes very attractive. “They laughed, but they were going to America—by way of South America, mind you. I persuaded the captain I could do anything, but all I did was help the cook, scrub floors, and everything else that nobody wanted to do. When I finally stepped off the boat in Boston, I didn’t have a farthing, and I didn’t know a soul.”

“Were you scared, Pa?” Andrew asked, his eyes large.

“Well . . . yes, I was, but my mother and father had taught me to look to God. I figured He was the God of America just as much as the God of Scotland, so I put my chin in the air, and the first day I was there I got a job. Not much of one. Nearly worked myself to death, but it was a place to sleep and a bite of food to eat.” He went on speaking of those hard days, then finally shook himself. “But it all turned out happily,” he said, and a sly look came to his eye. “I got a job working for a wealthy businessman, and one day his daughter, who was a princess, came down to the dock. She fell so in love with a handsome young Scotch-Irishman that he had to marry her to keep her from doing away with herself. And so they got married and had two children,” he said, getting up and going to squeeze them. “One, a handsome boy named Andrew, and one, a beautiful young lady named Sarah. So the princess and the dockhand got married, and they lived happily ever after.”

Elizabeth was laughing then. This red-haired husband of hers could always make her laugh. “That’s the most awful story I’ve ever heard! There’s hardly a word of truth in it.”

“Well, there’s one word,” he said, leaving the children and coming over to Elizabeth. He bent over and kissed her, and whispered in her ear, “I’ve lived happily ever after since I found that princess.”

The children saw their mother’s face redden, and Sarah said, “Look, Ma’s blushing! What did you say to her, Pa?”

“Nothing for you to hear! Now then, it’s time for me to go.”

There was the usual bustle as Patrick got his things together. He went outside where the coachman was waiting with the coach and handed the man his baggage. He bent over, kissed Elizabeth, and whispered, “Good-bye, my love. I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned over and picked Sarah up, squeezed her, and said, “You be sweet just like me, you hear?”

“I will, Papa. Honest I will!”

Then reaching over, he took Andrew by the hand and squeezed firmly. “Keep working on that grip.” He leaned over, hugged the boy, and whispered in his ear, “And you keep on thinking about that farm. Who knows, if the good Lord owns a thousand farms, He might give you and me one of them someday, and you could have a horse, and I could have a team to plow with.”

He released the boy, leaped into the coach, and waved as it disappeared down the driveway.

As they turned and went into the house, Sarah said, “What did Papa say to you, Andrew?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Sarah, always jealous of her father’s attention, dug her elbow in his side. “You tell me or I’ll shove you in the mud again!”

Andrew looked at her for a moment. “He said that God owned a thousand farms, and if I prayed, He might give us one so that I could have a horse.”

Sarah stared at him, her eyes big. “Papa said that? Do you think he meant it?”

Andrew looked off in the direction of the road that led to the coast. The dust where the coach was traveling made a fine signature in the sky. Turning back to his sister, he said, “Papa always means everything he says.”

****

The day after Patrick’s departure for Virginia, Will and Charlotte were in the library. Charlotte had persuaded him to spend some time going over the account ledgers, and Will had stayed home from the office under protest. The two had been working most of the morning, and finally Will said, “I can’t find anything wrong with this. It must have been a simple mistake.”

“It’s too important to leave to chance,” Charlotte insisted. She was wearing a light mint green dress, and her hair was carefully done up as if she were going to a ball. She looked at Will for one moment and then said, “I’m thirsty. Didn’t I see Martha making some lemonade earlier?”

“I believe you did.”

“Would you mind getting me some, dear? I’m terribly thirsty. Get us both some, and we’ll take a break.”

“Of course.”

Will left the room, glad to be free from the tedious task. As soon as he was gone, Charlotte opened the ledger and searched for the entry that Elizabeth had questioned, but she didn’t find it at once.

Right then the door opened so quietly she did not hear it. Rebekah entered the room, carrying a feather duster. Seeing Charlotte there, she started to leave. Then she remembered that Elizabeth had told her to be sure to dust off the top shelves, so she thought,
I’ll be quiet about it. It won’t disturb her
. As she made her way around the room, she noticed that the woman was so engrossed in the ledger that she did not even look up.

The top shelves could only be reached by climbing up on a small walnut ladder that Patrick had cleverly fixed with wheels. As soon as a person stepped on it, it pressed down so that it wouldn’t move anymore. The rug was thick and Rebekah’s footsteps made no sounds. She moved up on the ladder and, as quietly as she could, began dusting off the top shelf of the leather-bound volumes. She did look down and watched curiously, wondering how anyone could understand the bookkeeping, which was a mystery to her. She saw Charlotte pick up a pen and begin writing something in the ledger. Rebekah could not be sure exactly what it was, but she admired the way the young woman was able to make such fine marks.

Rebekah coughed slightly, but even that tiny sound attracted Charlotte’s attention. She whirled around and saw the girl looking down from the ladder on the open ledger. “What are you doing up there?” she demanded. “How did you get in here?”

“Why, Miss Charlotte, Miss Elizabeth told me to come and—”

“Get out of here at once!” she said. “I won’t have you snooping around!”

Rebekah’s face turned pale, and she instantly stepped down from the small ladder and started for the door.

“You’re nothing but a snoop. I’ll report you to Mrs. Martin!” she said.

Alarmed, Rebekah turned and said, “All I saw was you working on the book.”

Charlotte Van Dorn’s eyes narrowed. She had made a change in the ledger that would make it appear that Patrick had deliberately falsified the books, transferring money into his own account. Now she was pale with anger, and she stared at the maid. She wasn’t even sure if the girl could read, but she took no chances. “Get out of here. I’m going to let you off this time, but if you ever say one
word
to anyone, I’ll see that you’re fired, and your grandmother also. Do you hear me?”

“Yes . . . yes, ma’am.” Rebekah turned and fled from the library, tears bursting from her eyes. As soon as she left the room, however, she ran into Will, who nearly dropped the lemonade.

“Why, Rebekah,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.” She whirled and fled down the hall.

Will, after staring at her, turned and walked into the room. “What’s the matter with Rebekah?”

“Oh, she’s clumsy. I told her to come back and clean when there was nobody here to bother.”

“That’s not like Rebekah. She’s one of the most efficient maids we’ve ever had.”

“She clomps around like an old cow,” Charlotte said. “Now, sit down and let’s drink our lemonade.” Charlotte’s nerves were on edge. She was not accustomed to intrigue, but one look at Will’s face assured her that he had no suspicions about what had just taken place. As they sipped their lemonade, they talked for a while about their upcoming wedding. Charlotte’s parents would be there, of course, and the wedding would be in Boston, where her maternal grandparents lived.

“I suppose it’ll be a big affair,” Will said.

“Why, of course it will, dear. It’ll be the biggest wedding and best party Boston’s ever seen. Oh, the ball will be tremendous! You won’t believe the new dress that I’m having made for the occasion.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I hope Patrick will be back so that things can be settled with the business.”