Read The House of Closed Doors Online
Authors: Jane Steen
“Bet.” I motioned for her to take a seat, and she did so reluctantly. My mother would have been shocked; in her world, servants never sat down in the “upstairs” part of the house.
“Are you really managing all right without Marie? Are you sure I should not engage another servant?”
“With this house soon to be sold? ’Twould hardly be right.” Bet shifted uneasily and flapped her hand vigorously at my unspoken offer of a cup of tea. “And little Tess is handy, I’ll give her that.”
“And have you heard from Marie?”
“Oh, I’ve been to visit her poor mother and that baby. Big, lusty boy it is, round and rosy like all fifteen of ’em. Marie will wish she were back here soon enough.”
I laughed, sipping my tea with a wary eye on Sarah. “Where is Tess? You are not trying to turn her into a servant, are you, Bet? She is on an equal footing with me as far as I am concerned.”
“Bless you, Miss Nell, no. I told her to come and have tea with you, but she has been learning how to bake a pound cake with me, and she is quite adamant that she will not let it burn. She’s quite the one for learning.”
And Bet was turning out to be the most patient of teachers, never turning the sharp end of her tongue on Tess. My friend had brought out a side of her that I had only seen when I was sick or hurt; at all other times, her bracing remarks had been intended to strengthen me and urge me to greater efforts. I saw her once again as a younger woman, less stout but already heavily corseted, standing behind me as I reluctantly apologized to the neighbor whose fence I had broken by climbing on it. If I had learned gentility from my mother, I had derived my sense of responsibility from Bet.
“I will miss you, Bet,” I said quietly.
Bet’s brown eyes softened. “And I you, Miss. But you have your own road to follow, and it’s time I enjoyed some of the money Mr. Bratt put by for our old age. If it weren’t for love of your mother, I would have retired many years ago.”
Bet took my silence as the end of the conversation and rose briskly. “If I were you, Miss, I’d drop a broad hint to Mr. Martin and see if he won’t pop the question. He’s a better man than most people think, that one.”
I merely smiled and Bet motioned at me to pour my tea, moving quickly to the door in case I committed any more social sins of fraternization with the servants. Sarah was beginning to rub her eyes and press her doll to her face, a sure sign that she was ready for a nap. I shifted away from her a little to drink my tea, looking at her small round face. She now had a topknot of soft copper curls, fat red cheeks from teething, and round, plump arms and legs. She promised to be as sturdy and as healthy as any mother could wish.
I picked up Mrs. Lombardi’s letter from where Martin had left it on the piano stool. Should I go to Kansas and take up the offer of employment and a new life that my friend held out to me? A life that would be far, far away from Cousin Jack and his new wife, where Sarah could grow up free of any taint of gossip. I stroked her hair gently, watching her face as sleep took her into its arms, and felt a surge of joy in my heart that she was mine.
FIFTY-EIGHT
T
he winter was mercifully short and uneventful. Boring, in fact. I saw less of Martin, who had struck up quite a friendship with his erstwhile lodger Friedrich Fassbinder and was often to be found in Chicago, where the German was busy rebuilding his store. I wondered if one of Fassbinder’s tall, blonde daughters was the attraction and asked Martin so during one of his visits.
“Not a bit of it.” Martin was looking exceedingly well; he had been spending much time in the open air, amid the hubbub of construction that even the snow had been unable to halt. “Nice girls, both of them, but they are being courted by two very large Italian brothers who give me the evil eye if I so much as pass the time of day with them.”
I felt a curious sense of relief. “So what is causing you to neglect your store, and Victory—” I was going to say, “and me,” but thought better of it.
“Business, my dear Nell. Not everyone is able to rebuild. There are parcels of land continually coming up for sale, and I need to be ready to jump on the right opportunity. Fassbinder has been helping me make the right contacts.”
“You will open a new store?” I was surprised. Did he have that much money, then?
“I will move my business entirely, Nell. I would have to sell my store here, and my house, to finance the building of the marble and steel emporium that haunts my dreams.”
“It’s a huge risk.” I could feel my brow furrow as I watched Martin warm himself by the parlor fire, and I was visited by a strange, sharp feeling of anxiety. I shook myself mentally. Why should it bother me, since I was intent on leaving Martin, that he should want to leave me?
Martin looked down at me, his expression serious. “I am twenty-nine years old, Nell. It is time I took a risk.” He spread out his hands, still soft and white on the palms, and looked at them. “All my life I have assumed the role of my mother’s protector and helper. For her sake I kept sober and clean and worked in the store while my friends traveled the country. I saw men my age leave to join the War and wished I were among them.”
He sat down opposite me and took one of my hands in his. I felt my pulse speed up a little. Ridiculous, I thought; the gesture was quite brotherly.
“I am my own master now.” Martin was looking through me into an unknown future. “I am ready to risk all I have, in a city where thousands of people who have lost everything are simply starting again on credit and the strength of their own backs. Fassbinder had a stock of fine leather goods worth a hundred thousand dollars, and he will be lucky if his insurance pays him twenty-five cents on the dollar. And yet he just smiles and tells me that he is alive, he has a good wife and shoes on his feet, and in five years’ time his business will be bigger still. That is manliness, Nell. That is what I want to be.”
He looked more like a Viking than ever with the light of adventure in his eyes. I squeezed his hand hard and tried to match his air of optimism.
“Build your store, Martin. And I will take Sarah and Tess to Kansas and take my own risks. We are both heading for unexplored territory.”
I
awoke from a dream in which Hiram was chasing me through a series of rooms, each fitted with impossibly huge locks that only gave way at the last second before his arm reached out to touch me. I pushed myself up in my bed and automatically looked toward Sarah’s crib. She wasn’t there. I was about to cry out in alarm when there was a soft knock on the door and Tess entered.
“You slept for a long time, Nell. You are a sleepyhead.” She crossed to the window and pulled the drapes open and then turned to me, the morning sunlight glinting off her spectacles. “Why are you crying?”
I lifted the palm of my hand to my cheek, finding it wet with tears. “A dream. Where is Sarah?”
“Bet took her to give her some breakfast. She was saying “Momma, Momma, ey ey ey.” Tess giggled. “I think she was saying ‘Wake up.’ She is a clever girl. She is going up and down the scullery steps, up and down again and again.”
I smiled weakly, scrubbing away the last of the tears with the sleeve of my nightgown. “Thank goodness there are only three steps.” Sarah had become very active and could be quite exhausting to watch. I had shortened all of her little skirts as much as I dared, so that she wouldn’t trip and fall.
Now that it was March, our journey to Kansas was just a day away, and I was wearing myself out trying to ensure that I had forgotten nothing we might need. I had overslept because I had been up half the night, going over my list and looking for small items—Mama’s tiny golden scissors, packets of chamomile tea—that had suddenly occurred to me as indispensable.
The process of arranging a situation in Kansas and sorting out my financial position had taken many weary weeks. A notice of sale was nailed to our front door for all of Victory to see, and Bet remained to help with the clearing of the house and the packing up of my possessions, some of which I entrusted to Martin’s care. He had my power of attorney to take care of all the financial details of the sale of the house and the rest of the furnishings and to invest whatever was left once Hiram’s debts were paid. He had assured me several times that he would not invest my money in his business until he was sure it would prosper—in fact, I had to take him to task for assuming I would not trust him.
Against my protests Martin had given me a small bag of silver dollars “for Sarah,” but poverty was not staring us in the face. Mr. Buchman had been active on my behalf and assured me that the sale of the house would pay off the last of Hiram’s creditors and leave me with a small nest egg for Martin to invest. In any event, I would receive full board and lodging and a few dollars a year from my post at the Eternal Life Seminary; I should not have to touch my capital for as long as I was there.
I swung my legs out of bed, noting that it was raining again. “I hope it will be sunny tomorrow,” Tess remarked, guessing at my thoughts. “We will want to look around us in Springfield.” She clasped her hands under her chin and jumped up and down like a small child. “We will see Springfield and St. Louis and the Mississippi River and… what was it again, Nell?”
“Kansas City and Wichita.” I laughed at Tess’s excitement as I reached for my shawl. “But mostly we will see the inside of stagecoaches and boats and trains. You might not think it such an exciting journey, Tess, by the time we get there.”
“It
will
be exciting. I have only ever been in Chicago and Prairie Haven.” Tess flung her arms around me again and grinned up at me, showing every one of her very small teeth. “And I will be with my
family
. I have a
family
again.”
“Didn’t you feel like you had a family at Prairie Haven, Tess?” I asked, gently disengaging her arms from around my waist.
“Not really a
proper
family. A proper family has a Ma and a Da and a baby and a big sister—that’s me. We are almost a proper family; if you can find a husband in Kansas, Nell, we will be a real proper family.”
“Stop that.” I looked gravely at Tess. “I do not intend to look for a husband in Kansas or anywhere else. We will be just fine as we are: you, me, and Sarah. Now off you go, Tess, and leave me to get dressed.”
Tess waltzed out of my bedroom, and I sat down heavily on the bed. One more day, and I would be out of Victory—perhaps forever. I was excited about this new life, and yet I feared it. Doubtless it was these fears that had led to my nightmare, which was still vivid in my mind. I wished I had dreamed of my mother and not Hiram.