The Carousel Painter (15 page)

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Authors: Judith Miller

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BOOK: The Carousel Painter
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When the sermon finally began, I was quite pleased that Tyson was in attendance. The preacher spoke with eloquence about looking beyond outward appearances and seeing the heart of each person we encounter. He spoke of the Pharisees, and I immediately counted Tyson among them. I elbowed Augusta to make certain she was listening. She sucked in a breath and frowned. It was obvious I’d offended her. Though I’d need to explain my action later, I was sure she’d turn a deaf ear. Augusta had already made it perfectly clear: Tyson could do no wrong.

Our first opportunity to speak alone wasn’t until after lunch. At the completion of the meal, Mrs. Galloway interrogated me at length regarding the condition of my foot. Though I told her it was fine, she offered to take my place as chaperone for the trip to the zoo. I declined but could feel her eyes on me as Augusta and I excused ourselves to freshen up for the outing.

My toe ached, but I forced myself to walk as normally as possible. I could limp once we were away from the house. The moment we were upstairs, I apologized for nudging her during the sermon.

“I simply thought the preacher made a valid point. Some people aren’t what they appear. They wear one face in public and another in private. I wasn’t referring to you.”

“Like my mother?” she asked.

That wasn’t the response I’d expected. I dropped to the side of the bed and briefly contemplated my answer. “I suppose your mother does have two faces. I think she believes she’ll be happy when those wealthy people in Fair Oaks welcome her among their number. But once that happens, there will be something else she hungers for to make her happy. I think we’re born with a longing for something more than humans or things can fill, but I haven’t yet figured it out. Does that make any sense at all?”

“I suppose, but right now I’m more interested in having Tyson make me happy.”

I loosened my shoe and wiggled my toes. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re hoping Tyson will fill your empty space and make you happy. But he won’t.”

Nostrils flared, Augusta planted her hands on her hips and glared at me. “Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”

“The preacher said a person who is beautiful on the inside is a person who would exhibit it on the outside, as well.” I met her harsh gaze.

“So you can judge him?”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. Tyson is attractive on the outside, but I think you need to get to know him better. You need to be certain his principles match your own.” I tightened the laces of my shoes and cautiously stood. “I just don’t want him to hurt you. I’m afraid you’ll pledge your love to him and then discover he’s one of those wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

Augusta checked her hair in the mirror and then turned to face me. “You need not worry about Tyson. He’d never do anything to hurt me.”

I gathered up my reticule and sketch pad and followed her out of the room. Mrs. Galloway stood in the foyer watching my every move. There would be no opportunity to borrow one of Mr. Galloway’s walking sticks before we departed. Such a request would give the older woman ample reason to declare me medically unfit for a day at the zoo. “Enjoy yourselves,” she called after us. I half expected her to change her mind and come along.

On several occasions during the carriage ride, I glanced up to see Tyson watching me. When we arrived at the zoo, he squeezed my hand and winked while he helped me down. Augusta had turned and was none the wiser for what he’d done, but my anger was boiling like a teakettle. I considered kicking him in the shin but didn’t want to take a chance on injuring my other foot.

We’d proceeded only a short distance when he offered me his walking stick. I was loath to take the thing, but Augusta insisted. Rather than create a scene, I begrudgingly accepted. We’d stopped to look at the elephants, viewed several cages of monkeys, and stared into a watery pool of crocodiles when I finally tapped Augusta’s arm.

“I need to sit down and rest. Why don’t we see if there are some benches nearby?”

Her eyes sparkled as though I’d given her a special gift. “Of course. I think I saw benches near the lion cages not far from here.”

Augusta proved to be correct. We located several benches where I would have a clear view of the lions and tigers. “This will be perfect. I’ll sit here and sketch while the two of you complete your tour.”

“We won’t leave you for long,” Tyson said. He touched my shoulder in a much too familiar manner.

I shrugged his hand from my shoulder. “Do take your time. Augusta will vouch for the fact that I prefer to be alone when I draw.”

He tipped his hat and grinned at me before offering his arm to Augusta. I didn’t know how she could care for such a man. He was a scoundrel of the worst sort, yet she seemed totally unaware. I settled on the bench and watched as they sauntered off. To most they appeared a young couple in love. To me, they were a disaster in the making.

Immediately upon our return, Mrs. Galloway greeted us from the front porch, buzzing about like an annoying fly. As soon as Tyson mounted the steps, she clasped his arm in an overtly possessive hold. It was at that moment I fully realized Mrs. Galloway was awestruck by the Farnsworth name—or money . . . perhaps both. She continued to clutch his arm while she ushered us into the house.

Mr. Galloway looked up from his reading when we entered the parlor. “How did you enjoy the zoo, Carrington?”

“I had a lovely afternoon, thank you.”

“Show him your drawings, Carrie.” Before I could object, Augusta pulled the sketchbook from my hands and flipped open the cardboard cover. She turned back the pages and shoved the book into her father’s hands. “Look at these. Carrie thinks they would make marvelous carousel animals. Don’t you agree?”

Mr. Galloway hunched forward and held the book toward the early evening light filtering through the front window. He studied each page far longer than I’d expected, yet his expression remained unchanged. An unexpected uneasiness crawled up my spine as he continued to examine the final drawing. He closed the sketchbook, and as he handed it to me, I could see the excitement in his eyes.

“These are excellent drawings. I particularly like the lion. Do you think you could paint the animals to look like your sketches? I’m sure children would love them.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, my enthusiasm increasing. “I don’t believe the woodworkers would find them any more difficult to carve than the horses, once they became familiar with the patterns. They’ve already made one giraffe, so I don’t think they’d object to trying some other animals.”

Mr. Galloway rested his forearms across his thighs. “Once we are fully staffed at the factory, I think we should begin producing some of your drawings. What do you think?”

“I would be very pleased.” I wanted to shout for joy and clap my hands, but I forced myself to maintain proper decorum. “I have several other ideas, too.”

“Good! I’ll go over these with Josef. I’m sure he’ll find them exciting.”

Josef
. The carousel factory manager’s name was enough to set my nerves on edge. I could only imagine what
he
might think when Mr.

Galloway arrived with my sketches. “Perhaps you should wait until I’ve been there awhile longer before you speak to him. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m pressing any advantage due to my friendship with Augusta.”

Mrs. Galloway scooted to the edge of the settee. “On the other hand, those men need to know that you are the owner and they must do as you say, Howard. I don’t imagine your father permits his employees to have any authority in
his
business operations, does he, Tyson?”

Tyson lifted one shoulder into a half shrug. “I have no idea. I care little about business matters.”

“Oh?” Her brows knit together for an instant. I wasn’t sure if she was perplexed or worried by his response. It took her only a split second to regain her composure before she turned to her husband. “Still, Howard, I think you must be stern with those men, or they will run roughshod over you.”

“Agatha, your opinion is quite clear. I think it’s probably best if you make the decisions regarding operation of the household and I’ll take care of decisions regarding the businesses.” Mr. Galloway stood up and nodded toward the dining room. “I do believe Frances is ready to serve our supper.”

Although Augusta strenuously objected, I insisted upon leaving as soon as the evening meal was over. Both she and Tyson accompanied me to the boardinghouse. I would have preferred that Tyson remain behind. The driver’s company would have been preferable to Tyson’s, but at least he stayed in the carriage when we arrived at the boardinghouse.

Augusta stepped inside to bid me farewell. We were standing in the hallway with Mrs. Wilson when Josef thrust open the front door and nearly plowed the three of us to the floor. I don’t know who was the most surprised by the incident, but Josef was the first to recover.

He uttered a brief apology and said, “I see you have finally returned from your weekend of pleasure.”

“And it would appear you’ve been out enjoying yourself, also,” Augusta replied.

Josef cocked a brow at Augusta’s tart response. “You make a mistake, Miss Galloway. I’m back from working at the factory. We are without enough workers, and this makes the long hours for some of us.”

Augusta tipped her head to one side. “Perhaps you should better utilize the workers you already have, Mr. Kaestner. I know Carrie’s abilities far exceed the work she’s currently assigned.” Leaning forward, Augusta plunked a quick kiss on my cheek. “Take care of yourself. I expect you for dinner at least once during the week.”

I could feel Josef’s eyes trained on me. No doubt he thought I’d been complaining to Mr. Galloway. “Please don’t plan on me. It’s late when I get home from work, and—”

“Then next Saturday evening for sure. You can spend the night again.”

I opened my mouth to refuse, but Augusta wagged her finger.

“I won’t hear an objection. Thomas will call for you next Saturday evening. You can act as my chaperone again,” she whispered in my ear.

“We’ll see,” I murmured. I didn’t want to argue in front of Mrs. Wilson and Josef. I knew I wouldn’t win. However, I didn’t plan to continue acting as Augusta’s chaperone. Besides, Mrs. Galloway would be delighted to assume the role, since she obviously considered Tyson Farnsworth an ideal match for her daughter. The thought caused an involuntary shudder, and I rubbed the goose bumps that covered my arms.

CHAPTER
11

A
s promised, Mr. Galloway arrived at the carousel factory early Monday morning. Several hours had passed when one of the workers summoned me to the front offices. I did my best to brush the whitish dust from my clothing and face as I followed along, but I’d been sanding for some time and the dried milky primer had descended upon me like a winter storm.

Josef didn’t acknowledge me, but Mr. Galloway smiled and beckoned me forward. “Let me take a closer look and see if it is truly Carrie hiding under that white mask.”

I swiped my handkerchief across my cheeks and nose and hoped I’d successfully removed any remnants of the paint. Mr. Galloway’s smile gave me hope that this would be a friendly exchange.

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