Embers of Love (20 page)

“I figured as much, but if you’re busy helping me, they can’t very well expect you to parlor sit with them.”

Deborah put her cup aside. “He’s right, you know. Let them come. If you’re busy out back helping G. W., they’ll either have to wait for you to finish up or come out there to find you. Either way, you won’t have to be alone with them.”

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’d very much like to try,” Lizzie said, giving G. W. a shy smile.

“I just hope the two of you will talk about your future and stop this nonsense,” Deborah declared, heading for the door. “Honestly, when two people are as gone over each other as you two, they should be planning a wedding – not a food shed.”

–––––––

True to Lizzie’s prediction, Stuart Albright and Mrs. Decker showed up just before noon. Deborah heard her mother invite them to lunch. They accepted, though they sounded more irritated than grateful and immediately asked about Lizzie.

“She’s working outside,” Deborah’s mother explained. “She’ll be in for lunch, however, so why don’t you just make yourselves comfortable? I’ll get the meal on the table and let you know when things are ready.” She turned at the sound of Deborah coming into the room.

“Ah, Deborah, we have company.”

Deborah looked at the well-dressed and now rather tanned Stuart Albright. His blue eyes seemed even more piercing set within the bronzed skin of his face. Mrs. Decker was dressed very properly in a suit of light gray linen and seemed ill at ease. “I trust you had a pleasant journey out here?”

“It was tolerable,” Mrs. Decker answered. “The roads leave much to be desired. They certainly aren’t the quality of those in the East.”

“I’m sure they aren’t,” Deborah replied and turned to Mother. “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

“That would be very nice. Mrs. Decker and Mr. Albright have agreed to stay for lunch, so please set two extra places at the table.”

“I’d be happy to.” Deborah turned to their guests. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She was glad to slip away and not have to make small talk. While they both were quite capable of intellectual discussion, Deborah found that she would rather have a long talk with just about any of her neighbors. They might be uneducated, but at least they were genuine.

“Maybe I’m not such a snob after all,” she murmured. There were clearly worse things than lacking the ability to read and write.

When Mother could no longer delay dinner, she sent Deborah to retrieve G. W. and Lizzie. Deborah found them out by the summer kitchen laboring over a sufficiently sized A-framed structure. G. W. had smartly positioned it under a thick stand of pines that would shelter it from the sun.

“It’s time to eat,” she announced. “But be warned. We have dinner guests.”

“My mother and Stuart?” Lizzie asked.

“Yes, and as usual, neither seems to be in good spirits.”

Lizzie looked from Deborah to G. W. “I’m truly sorry. I have encouraged Mother to go back home, but she will not consider it.” She gave G. W. a shy glance. “But I’m going to telegraph Father again. If I don’t get a reply, I’ll go to wherever I have to in order to see a lawyer.”

Deborah put an arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

They washed up and walked slowly – almost ceremonially – toward the house. Deborah led the way into the dining room from the kitchen. Lizzie followed and G. W. brought up the rear. It was easy to see that Stuart was less than pleased to see G. W.

“Please be seated,” Mother encouraged. G. W. pulled out a chair for Lizzie at the end of the table and took the seat beside her. Albright was clearly annoyed but said nothing as he took his place across from G. W.

Mother offered grace and encouraged everyone to dig in. It was clear that Mrs. Decker was used to being served and still hadn’t gotten comfortable with this informal style of eating. She managed the serving spoon rather clumsily, as if to make a special point to everyone of how ill at ease she truly was.

Deborah had to practically bite her tongue to keep from commenting. She was trying hard not to let her anger and frustration get away from her, for she knew she shouldn’t disrespect her elders. But what about when those elders didn’t deserve respect? What about when those in authority – even parents – chose to do sinful, wrong things? But then, was it a sin for a mother to force her grown daughter to return home with a man she believed was her child’s husband?

“How did it go with the A-frame?” Mother asked G. W. She turned to Harriet, explaining, “G. W. is building me a place where I can store food.”

“We’re pretty much finished. With Lizzie’s help, it went quite fast. I just have to pack it with pine straw now.”

Stuart looked aghast. “You were helping him?”

Lizzie nodded. “It was great fun. I’d never helped build anything before.”

“And well you shouldn’t have,” Albright countered. “I can hardly believe you would impose men’s labor upon a lady of such delicate nature.”

G. W. put his fork down and looked hard at the man. “I didn’t impose anything on Lizzie. She’s the one who insisted on helpin’ me.”

Albright was unmoved. “That was only because she was being polite. She surely never expected you to take her up on such an outlandish offer.”

G. W. turned to Lizzie. “Is that true? Were you just offerin’ to be polite?”

“Goodness, no,” Lizzie countered. “Stuart, I do wish you would stop trying to determine what I meant by my actions. You really know very little about me. I enjoy hard work. It makes me feel useful. You ought to try it sometime.”

Deborah nearly choked on her corn bread. She wanted to burst out laughing but bowed her head as if contemplating her meal.

“Elizabeth!” Mrs. Decker set her napkin down. “That was most uncalled for. Stuart is merely concerned about your well-being. He’s trying to protect you, since no one else seems to take such matters into consideration.”

“My well-being was never compromised,” Lizzie replied. “Furthermore, Stuart has no reason to concern himself with anything at all related to me.”

“You are acting disgracefully!” Her mother’s face turned red with fury. “As a woman who considers herself a Christian, you would do well to remember what the Bible says about wedded women obeying their husbands.”

“Were there any currently wedded women at this table, you might have a valid argument,” Deborah interjected. “However, I was under the impression that you did not hold with such beliefs. I remember a discussion we once had about that portion of the Bible. Didn’t you tell me that you rejected that belief as something that was reserved only for the times in which it had been written?”

“Deborah, I’m sure you misunderstood Mrs. Decker,” her mother said before the other woman could reply. “No one would pretend that the Bible can be picked apart in such a manner. To suggest that some things are true for us while others have no purpose seems quite blasphemous.”

“She did not misunderstand me; neither do I misunderstand her now,” Harriet Decker replied. She leveled a fierce scowl at Deborah. “My affairs with Elizabeth are not your concern. I would appreciate receiving the respect I deserve. Please stay out of the discussion.”

Deborah started to reply, but her mother stepped in. “Mrs. Decker, our daughters are grown women. They have every right to speak up on the issues at hand – especially since this is my home, and I allow for such behavior. I also thought from things Lizzie had told me that you were in support of women speaking their minds.”

“Well . . . I never said that . . . I mean . . .” Harriet looked uncomfortably at Stuart and then her daughter.

Lizzie met her mother’s gaze. “I suppose this entire situation came about because I was following your instruction. You have told me over and over that a young woman should be allowed to work alongside a man – to earn the same pay – to have the same say. Honestly, Mother, you cannot hold to one set of beliefs for yourself and pin another on me.”

Deborah knew it had been hard for Lizzie to stand up for herself, but she was getting better and better at it with each passing day. Her mother was a hypocrite – that could not be denied. The trouble was, Deborah knew there had to be some beneficial reason for Harriet Decker to act in such a manner. The woman had never wanted Lizzie to marry. She had wanted Lizzie to join her cause. She had specifically sent Lizzie to the university hoping she might become a physician or scientific genius – anything that would smack in the faces of polite society’s paradigm for the weaker gender.

No, the woman was definitely up to something. There had to be a reason for her actions and attitude. Harriet Decker was not a person to do a thing without it benefiting herself at some point. If Deborah and Lizzie could just figure out what that advantage was, perhaps they could sway her to their side by offering an even better prize.

It was worth a try.

C
HAPTER
17

As September neared, the temperatures lowered in a surprising manner and summer eased into a gentle, more bearable season. With the change came word that Butch Foster had succumbed to his wounds. His death sent a wave of dissatisfaction and grief throughout the community. Questions began to arise. Was it Dr. Clayton’s fault? Had his scientific methods killed Butch? Was Margaret Foster right about the doctor’s inability to help them?

Deborah heard the rumors while shopping in the commissary and was frustrated that people should blame Dr. Clayton. Butch’s wounds had been massive; to lose a limb and bleed out as much as he had were reason enough to die. Throwing caution and protocol to the wind, Deborah left her shopping basket with the promise to return and went in search of Dr. Clayton. No doubt he’d already heard the news and the awful things that were being said about him.

“I figured he wouldn’t survive,” the doctor told Deborah. “But to tell the truth, I don’t know that he would have made it had he remained here with me.”

Deborah’s voice was barely a whisper. “You should be aware that Mrs. Foster is blaming you.”

He frowned and toyed with a bottle of carbolic acid. “I figured as much.”

Deborah immediately regretted bringing it up. “I’m sorry. I know it hasn’t been easy for you here.” She sighed. “It hasn’t been easy for me, either, and I love this place and the people.”

He looked at her oddly for a moment. “How is it that you love it so? You’re an educated woman who loves learning. You seem completely out of place here.”

She smiled. “I am. I miss attending school. For me, it was like having my eyes opened for the first time. Life here . . . well, it just is. And for most of my life, I’ve been content.”

“But not now?”

Deborah considered his question for a moment. “I’m content with knowing that I’m doing what is required of me.” She shook her head. “I should reword that. It was never required, nor even expected. Unless of course you count the fact that I expected it of myself.”

“How so?”

“I’ve always felt my family needed me to gain as much knowledge as possible. The world is changing so fast, and the days of a handshake agreement are rapidly fading. Mr. Perkins is even requiring a contract from my family. Without the skill I’ve learned, I fear Vandermark Logging would be victim to all manner of scheming.”

“I suppose I can understand that. You’re good to help your family in such a way.”

She shrugged. “I suppose so, but it still grieves me to see things as they are. I wish my brothers valued education more. I wish my father had valued it for them. Perhaps they would have been the ones to attend school instead of me.”

“That would have been a grave injustice for you.”

She met his smile and nodded. “I think so, too. But on the other hand, perhaps it would not have awakened such desires within me.”

Dr. Clayton put down the bottle and crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

Deborah hadn’t meant to get into such a conversation, but now she found herself baring all of her secrets with ease. “I feel like a hypocrite – like a society snob.”

He laughed, taking her by surprise. “I find that hard to believe. There isn’t anything in the leastwise snobbish about you.”

She moved to the window. “Yes there is. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true. I look at the people here differently now. When I first went away to school, it was after I’d completed eighth grade. Mother arranged for me to attend a ladies finishing school in Houston. I was quite excited. It was there that I learned French and fine sewing. I learned how to properly instruct household staff and arrange a dinner party.” She turned and faced him. “All the things a proper young lady should know. I came back here wondering how in the world I would ever find use for such things, but I felt confident that I would. I even imagined marrying one of the young men I’d grown up around. Then I heard about some of the colleges and universities back East allowing women to attend. The very thought stirred something inside my mind.”

“How did your folks feel about it?”

“I think at first they were worried about my going so far away, but when I reminded them that my aunt would be less than a mile away, it calmed them. Then, after attending a year of classes, I found myself awakening to another world. I knew that I could help my family with the business. I stayed in school, learning all that I could, always knowing that I would one day return here and do what I could to help my loved ones.”

“And how do you feel about it now?”

Deborah considered the question for a moment. “I know I’m doing the right thing. They were very much in need of my abilities. You should have seen the mess.” She laughed, remembering all the scraps of scribbled notes her uncle had given her. “It’s in order now, and they have a new contract that will ensure they have work for years to come. I think things are looking up.”

At that there was a knock on the front door and a man called out. “Doc? You in here?”

It was Zed Perkins. Deborah recognized his voice and frowned. Had there been another accident? She followed Dr. Clayton into the front waiting area.

Mr. Perkins nodded at her but turned his attention to Dr. Clayton. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

Deborah pushed down a feeling of uneasiness. She could see by the look on Mr. Perkins’s face that something wasn’t right. “If you don’t mind, I’ll pick out a couple of your journals to read and be on my way.”