Cut from the same wester.., p.13
Cut from the Same Western Cloth, page 13
“A small town would be perfect. I mean … if my parents ever decided to do so.” For some reason, she was holding herself back, and he couldn’t quite place why. “Small towns are so much homier and warm. You feel like you know all of the people and like they would help you if you needed it.” A look close to longing filled her eyes.
“I thought you’d lived in the city your whole life.” He watched her, wondering how much he could learn simply from catching her in her inconsistencies. He was almost tempted to ask Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter. Maybe he would if he thought they’d be more forthcoming.
“My aunt and uncle lived in a little town, around a day from here.” She glanced back toward the main house, that look of uncertainty taking up its usual place. She seemed to talk about her aunt and uncle quite a bit.
“So, you lived with them?”
“Sometimes, for a few weeks. It was wonderful. Their home always felt more like home than my own. I had my own room, and it was tiny, a quarter of my room at home. It was so lovely. It felt like I had my own little corner to go to at the end of the day. My aunt loved my help with the chores. We’d take care of the animals every morning before sunrise instead of having the servants do everything.”
“Why didn’t your aunt and uncle have servants?”
Her eyes widened, and she paused for a long moment.
“They didn’t like having others do everything for them. They chose not to have servants because they said they could manage on their own.”
“I see.” The idea of a wealthy family choosing to do things themselves and live in a tiny town instead of a big city was foreign and almost unbelievable to him, but the way Cora spoke about it made him think she believed it and was telling the truth.
Cora looked up at him just as she stepped forward, her foot slipping a bit. He reached out, catching her hand. It was soft in his, sending a tingle up his arm. Her cheeks blushed a deep red, and she pulled her hand back, leaning instead on a nearby tree for support.
“We should probably head back.”
“Feeling nervous about getting lost in the woods?” he asked with a chuckle.
“No. Just … I don’t know. Our parents may start to worry.”
“I highly doubt that. They know that we are together and would most likely be very pleased the longer we take.”
Her cheeks turned a darker shade.
“We’re almost there. Then we can head back. Perhaps tomorrow we should take a ride. There are lots of pretty places to see around here.”
“On the horses?” Cora looked excited by the idea.
“Yes, your mother mentioned how much you like riding. She also made sure we had a side saddle prepared for you.”
“Side saddle?” Now Cora frowned. “Of course.”
Her answer sounded forced. He was looking forward to seeing if riding side saddle was yet another thing that she’d grown rusty with. He couldn’t imagine a young woman like Cora not having been taught to ride a side saddle. He smiled at the idea. Tomorrow, he would find out for sure if she could ride or not.
Chapter 16
Alice forced what must have been her hundredth smile toward the end of dinner. She felt like her back might break from sitting so straight, and she could hardly breathe and eat at the same time with her corset pinching her ribs.
She felt uncomfortable from head to toe. Her walk with Henry was the only time during the whole day she felt like herself. She’d been in the woods, around nature, in the embrace of the trees and the wind. It had almost been intrusive to share it with Henry, except for the fact he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did.
They’d started talking about her parents again. She’d been tempted to lie about never enjoying a small town but wanted to share that true part of herself with Henry.
She hated lying, and the more she got to see that Henry was just a young man who had as many difficulties and struggles as her, she wanted to be honest with him.
She’d almost told him the truth about herself several times, but each time, she imagined him looking at her like she was a stranger, accusing her of lying again, the way he had that first night that they’d met at the Carpenters’ after the few times at the seamstress shop.
The idea of seeing him look at her like that again made her stomach turn. How had her feelings toward Henry changed so much already? She glanced toward him, noticing that he was watching her, too.
Her cheeks heated. It seemed he noticed everything she did. Living in the same house with him, even if it was only for five more short days, seemed like it would be impossible.
She longed for the moments when everyone forgot she existed, which had happened all the time back at the Carpenters’ estate. There had been no one to judge, no one to criticize, or to look closely at everything she did.
Here on the Williams’ estate, Henry’s parents were trying to make conversation with her; Henry was watching her or her own parents were double-checking to make sure that she was doing what she should be.
She finished with her food and politely pushed her plate back, pretending to pay attention to everything going on around the table when her mind was hundreds of miles away, back with her father.
She imagined him having his dinner at the kitchen table alone. Normally, she would have that dinner with him.
“It’s wonderful, Alice,” he’d say. “You will make some man very happy one day.”
The memory made her stomach pit with sadness, and tears pressed at the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t start crying here at the dinner table with no provocation. If the other things she had done out of character had brought suspicion, that certainly would.
Mr. Carpenter stood up at last and cleared his throat.
“Thank you, everyone. I think we should all get some rest.” Everyone followed his example, saying goodnight and leaving the table. Alice waited until it was just her, Henry’s mother, and Henry sitting before she stood and did the same.
“I’ll walk you to the hall,” Henry offered politely after a quick look from his mother.
“Thank you.” Alice tried not to show how badly she was feeling. Everyone was so cold and distant, and the house was too big. How she longed for her tiny little cabin, her father’s soft voice as he read the newspaper out loud by the fireplace, or the feel of her mother’s hugs before bed. She barely remembered to stop at the door to the room to say goodnight to Henry.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m fine, just … it’s fine.” She wished she could tell him how much she missed home because somehow she felt like he would understand.
“All right, sleep well, Cora.”
She almost grimaced at his use of the name that he thought was hers. The more that she got to know him, the more she wished he was getting to know her.
When she got to her room, she slid her diary out of its hiding place. She wanted to read her mother’s words, to feel closer to home. She tucked the diary under her arm, pulled her shawl on, and headed down the hall.
She wanted to read somewhere she wouldn’t be interrupted, somewhere no one would just walk in and find her there, expecting her to be asleep. Thankfully, no one was awake in the house anymore. Everyone seemed to have retreated to their rooms.
The soft hum of voices pulled at her from one of the rooms toward the back of the house. She took a few steps toward the sound. She recognized Mr. and Mrs. Carpenters’ voices. She had no idea how she would explain her presence out and about at this time.
“It looks like she’s making an effort. We just need to be patient.” Mr. Carpenter sounded exasperated.
“I do hope you’re right. She’s always been a stubborn child. I won’t have her throwing her life away.”
“We’ve already dealt with it, Dear. Besides, it seems she and Henry are getting along well. This trip was a good idea.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Alice took a deep breath and left the Carpenters’ closed doors behind her. At least they were wondering whether she was falling for Henry and not whether she was Cora at all.
She let herself out, headed to the stables, and situated herself near a stall at the back, making sure there wasn’t any straw or other dry stuff around the lamp that could potentially catch fire. She had no desire to start the place on fire and bring attention to herself that way.
She propped open her mother’s journal and flipped to the next entry. She wondered what her mother would say in this situation.
Dear Diary
It’s been such a long day, and my eyes are drooping as I try to write this. I do think that I’d rather go straight to sleep, but maybe one day, I’ll want to look back on this day and see what was happening.
Today, Naomi started to walk. She walked to me all day long, laughing and playing. I see her growing every day, and it never bores me. All I think about is how I want to continue to see her grow and get bigger.
She’s such a little ray of sunshine, and she has me completely and totally in love. Whenever I’m around her, I feel like my life is perfect and like everything from the past is erased.
Her hair is growing longer each day, and it’s finally long enough to brush properly. It is such a nice time when she sits on my lap and points to her hair, so I’ll run a comb through it. Sometimes, she’ll try to brush my hair too.
Alice swiped a tear from her cheek. She closed the diary. Instead of comfort, it was bringing back a torrent of memories. Her mother brushed and braided her hair for as long as she could remember.
She did her mother’s hair sometimes when they were going to church, and it needed some extra care and attention. Then, when her mother fell ill, she no longer had the strength to brush her hair, and Alice would brush it for her and put it in a braid against her head every single morning.
She wiped away another tear and then another. She wanted so badly to go back to the times when she had no idea where she was from, when all she had to worry about was her parents and her life. Things were so much simpler back then. If only it were that easy to go back to.
The sound of someone coming made her swipe at her cheeks, trying to erase any signs of her crying. Had Mrs. Carpenter followed her out? Goodness, what could she say to explain her being crying in the barn over being homesick?”
When Henry’s large figure was the one who stepped into the stall, blocking out the shadows, she sighed in relief. Somehow, he was the best possible option for someone to find her in this position.
His expression turned to concern as soon as he spotted her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, coming closer until he was right in front of her. He reached out and brushed away a tear she must have missed. “What are you doing out here by yourself crying?”
She fought the wave of emotion that washed over her, threatening to bring on another onslaught of tears.
“I … suppose I was a bit overwhelmed and came out here to think. One thing led to another and … it’s complicated.”
His eyes fell to the book sitting beside her.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, really. Just something I read sometimes from someone I care about.”
“I see.” He frowned, then sat down on the floor in front of her. Their feet were almost touching. He rested his arms over his knees and watched her intently. “You know, being sad in a barn is much nicer when you have company.”
“Thank you, but you really don’t have to. I know you don’t like me. You don’t have to pretend that you do.”
Henry was quiet for a long moment.
“I may not like you, but I don’t dislike you either.”
Her heart jumped in her chest. Did that mean he might be changing his opinion of her? It sounded too good to be true. She was silly for getting her hopes up. There was no future for her and Henry. They both had things that would take them away from San Francisco. They only had a few days, and then they would most likely never see one another again.
“You know, even though we aren’t very good friends, I want you to know that if I can help in any way, I’d like to.”
Alice met his gaze. She could see he meant it. It took her off guard. Ever since she’d taken over Cora’s life, she’d been met with people who seemed so disingenuous. They said one thing but acted in another way.
However, Henry seemed like he really cared.
“Thank you.”
“You look surprised.” He was still studying her, making her stomach shake with nerves.
“Can you blame me? You weren’t exactly very excited to make my acquaintance or continue this … friendship.” She had no idea what to call it in reality.
“I know you’re still lying to me in some way about how we first met; I just haven’t figured out why or in what way exactly. If there is one thing you should know about me, it’s that I can’t stand lying. I have always been the type of person to want the truth and to tell the truth.”
“I see.” How could she possibly respond to such a thing? Of course, he was referring to the fact that he knew she was lying about something. It made her angry with herself even more than she already was.
Lying about who she was, her intentions, everything was harder than she ever could have anticipated. She was regretting not staying at the seamstress shop. If she’d continued there, she could have continued to earn an income and maybe even had a friendship with Henry, too.
They’d seemed to get along better back when he thought she worked at the seamstress shop, too.
“You’re … hard to figure out,” Henry said softly, redirecting her attention.
“I’m sorry. Everything is not as simple as it seems.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for coming out. I think we should both get some rest, though.”
“Of course. I wanted to make sure you were all right. You seemed very sad.”
“I was, am. I don’t know. I guess I started thinking about things better left in the past.”
Henry nodded as if he knew exactly what that felt like. She wondered if he did. She thought back to her mother’s entry. It was full of everything about her. She could feel her mother’s love seeping off of the pages. She’d thought she would feel that from Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter, but she almost felt the opposite. She missed what it was like to have someone who cared about her like that nearby.
“Let’s go back inside. I think it’s getting chilly out here.” Henry offered his hand, which she took a bit reluctantly. He was right about the weather; a soft breeze brushed her arms, making her shiver. She tucked her mother’s diary under her shawl and out of sight, then followed Henry out of the barn and back toward the house.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, with me accusing you the first time we met. And whatever you’re hiding, perhaps we could try to be … friends, and this would work a little better.”
“What would work?” She wanted to know what he was planning. She was fairly certain he hadn’t changed his mind about getting married to someone he barely knew.
“This trip with my parents, whatever further dinners or events they have us attend with one another. If we’re friends, perhaps we could help each other, and it would be a bit more pleasant.”
“I can do that.” She wanted to be pleasant with Henry, and having him as a friend sounded nice. She didn’t know why, but her traitorous heart seemed to think that having him as something more than a friend would be nice, too. She pushed that thought out of her mind where it belonged and tried to focus on his words.
