Chapter Twenty-three
Kate woke early the next day, unable to sleep.
After today, she thought, staring at the ceiling, Edmund would be engaged, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Or was there? Should she say something? Beg him to reconsider?
Not for herself, she emphasized, but because she was sure he would be unhappy.
Mary and Henry were two peas in a pod, and if the brother had a darker side, might not the sister?
But that was ungenerous. Would she appreciate being judged by the actions of Ray? Though Ray wasn’t really her brother. Well, then what about her real sister, Ann Price? Would she like to be judged by Ann’s actions? This, she knew, was also ungenerous . . .
Finally, when the first birds began to twitter, she pushed aside her quilt and got dressed. She crept down the stairs as quietly as she could and started breakfast. Not long after, her father came down, already in overalls, and pulled on his boots.
“How’s Mom?”
“Slept pretty good.” He had insisted on staying with her the entire night. “She’s a bit better, I think. That coffee ready yet?”
He pulled on his jacket. Gone was any trace of the yesterday’s emotion, but Kate was not offended. This was his way. She handed him a mug of steaming coffee.
“Call me when it’s ready,” he said, referring to breakfast, and stepped out onto the porch.
Kate heard the crunch of gravel.
“Ed’s here,” her dad said through the screen before clomping down the steps.
Kate perked her ears, trying to determine if Ed was following her father to the barn, or if he was headed into the house.
She braced herself when she heard his footfall on the steps.
As she wiped her hands on a dishtowel, she tried to prepare what she would say.
“Hello!” Edmund called, opening the back door. “Got any coffee?” He was dressed in his good black suit and church shoes, and he must have put on cologne, because he smelled nice, like pine and soap.
She poured out a mug of coffee and handed it to him. “Thought you would’ve left already.”
“Nearly. I’m riding in with Henry. Gotta go pick him up in a minute.” He smiled crookedly. “Any last words of advice?” His eyes were bright as he took a sip of coffee. “I’m surprising Mary, you see. She doesn’t know I’m coming.”
Kate desperately wanted to continue the conversation they had begun in his truck, but she didn’t know how. Should she simply blurt out that she loved him? But he obviously didn’t love her back, not in that way, or he wouldn’t be dashing off to Chicago to propose to Mary.
She cleared her throat. “Just be yourself.” She forced a smile. “Always the best policy, I think.”
He looked at her admiringly, a half smile tugging at his lips. “That’s my Kate. Practical as always.”
Practical? That wasn’t how she wanted him to see her! Didn’t he see her as pretty or funny or intelligent or . . . or anything besides practical? Brooms were practical.
“Well, goodbye, then, Kate.” He bent and kissed her quickly on the cheek. “No running off while I’m gone, mind you!” he teased.
It was now or never, or she would have to forever hold her peace. She opened her mouth to say something, anything—
Mr. Kerwyn shuffled in. “Thought you were leaving today,” he said to Edmund.
So, never, then.
“I am, Mr. K. Just came to say goodbye.”
“Dressed mighty fine.” He looked him up and down. “You’d think you were off to meet the queen. You’ll be back in a couple of days, won’t ya? Don’t take but two minutes to get engaged, and we gotta get the corn in.”
Edmund gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that, Mr. Kerwyn. About getting engaged, that is. She still has to say yes, like. But I’ll be back by Sunday, either way.” He plopped his hat back on his head. “Bye, then!” he said cheerily. “Wish me luck!”
And before Kate could say another word, he was gone.
***
Kate spent the weekend in a very dark mood.
Time seemed to tick by with horrible slowness.
Almost every hour of every day, she envisioned Edmund holding Mary, whispering things in her ear, kissing her.
Her only consolation was that she was sure the newly wedded couple would reside in Chicago, so she would at least be spared seeing them on a regular basis.
No chance of running into Edmund at the post office, or the Merc, or church.
It would be as if he had joined the army.
Yes, she decided, this was how she would try to think of him from now on.
Not blissfully married to another, but marching around in some army base or fighting somewhere in Europe.
Maybe someday she would write him a letter, telling him her true feelings.
But what good would that do? It would be too late.
It was already too late; she had missed her chance.
She tried distracting herself by tending her mother, cleaning the house (again), and even enlisted Minnie’s help to put in the garden.
It was the one chore Minnie didn’t have to be threatened or scolded into doing.
She seemed to have a natural affinity for growing things, and she willingly raked up the dead growth from last year and dug fresh rows.
It was oddly comforting, Kate found, to dig in the earth with one’s hands. It made her think of the badger hole, and she decided that she would return there as soon as she could, if only to use it as a workshop, as she could never leave her mother again, at least not for a long, long time.
Leaning on her hoe, she thought of Jenny Price, who would likewise probably be the one to stay behind and care for Ann and Sam in their elder years.
Kate wished she could somehow rescue the girl, as she herself had been rescued from the very same family by an odd twist of fate!
But she could hardly bring her here to live, so what else was there?
Writing to her? Encouraging her? Sending her things?
Maybe books or sketchbooks? But would the other kids be jealous and torment her as a result?
And who knew if Ann would even give them to her.
Well, Kate decided, she would at least write to the girl and see if she got an answer. If not, she would make it a point to go and visit sometimes.
Through the open kitchen window, Kate heard the telephone ring.
She dropped her hoe and hurried inside, glancing at the clock as she did so.
It was likely Doc Hodges, calling to check on her mother’s progress.
For a split second, she wondered if it might be Edmund .
. . but she squelched that thought as she hurriedly wiped her hands on a dish towel.
“Hello?” she said eagerly into the receiver.
“Merriweather 657?” asked the operator.
“Yes, this is 657.”
“Go ahead,” the operator instructed the caller.
“Caroline?’ It was not Doc Hodges, nor Edmund, but a woman. “That you?”
Kate was pretty sure it was Aunt Bea. But why would she be calling?
“No, Aunt Bea,” Kate answered quickly. “It’s Kate. Is something wrong?” Her thoughts ran to Louisa.
“Oh! Is your mother or dad there?”
“Mom’s lying down, and Dad’s out in the barn.”
Aunt Bea groaned. “I suppose I’ll just have to tell you, then. I have the most dreadful news! It’s Louisa! I’m so very sorry! And so very vexed, mind you.”
“What is it? Is she okay?”
“She’s run off and gotten herself married!”
Married? Despite the shock, Kate let out a breath of relief.
She had thought that maybe Louisa was . .
. well, dead. “She and Vernon ran off?” Considering the pomp and circumstance Louisa had been insisting on for her wedding, Kate found it odd that she would simply abandon it all in favor of elopement.
“No! Not Vernon!” Aunt Bea’s voice crackled over the line. “With some scoundrel by the name of Henry Crawford.”
Kate suddenly felt faint. Henry Crawford? “When?” she asked hoarsely.
“Couple of days ago, I think. Never even heard her mention him. Said Ray was coming to take her back home, which was clever on her part, as she knows I can’t abide Ray and wouldn’t want him to come in to say hello.
I must admit, I shamefully left the cleaning of her room for a few days—Uncle Elmer’s gout’s been acting up something terrible, and I had my hands full.
But still, this is all my fault! If I’d gone into her room sooner, maybe something could have been done?
Oh, dear, oh dear!” the poor woman cried.
“Aunt Bea, I don’t understand.”
“What I’m saying is that when I did go into her room to gather up the bedding, I found a note. Thought maybe it was a little thank-you note, but good Lord! I never thought it would be this! Oh, what are we going to do? Your mother will never forgive me!”
Kate wasn’t sure that was the preeminent problem, but she did not say so. How could Louisa have done such a thing? Poor Vernon!
“I . . . I’d better get off and go tell Mom and Dad,” Kate finally stammered.
“Oh, I can’t think how your poor mother will take it. This might be the death of her, an all. Is she any better?”
“A little, yes. I’ll ring you back, okay, Aunt Bea?”
“Oh, please do! Do you think I should come down?”
Kate tried to concentrate. “Not just yet. I’ll let you know. Thanks, Aunt Bea.” Kate hung up the receiver and leaned against the wall.
How dare Henry Crawford! What a wretch!
As horrified as she was, a tiny part of her felt vindicated. It had only been a few days ago that he had professed to love her. And now he had run off with Louisa! And what about Louisa? How could she betray them all this way? Betray poor Vernon? It would be all over town in a few days . . .
Kate pressed her fingers to her eyes. How was she going to tell her parents?
***
The family, as predicted, was thrown into an uproar.
Not wanting to upset her mother in her precarious state, Kate told her father first. Kate had half expected him to throw a fit, but he had instead simply slumped into a chair and put one hand over his eyes.
He was a different man lately—all the fight seemed to have gone out of him.
Thinking back, Kate judged the change in him to have first started when Ray left.
But then there had been her own rejection of Henry Crawford and her subsequent flight to Shullsburg, Mom nearly dying, Edmund wanting to marry and possibly leave, and now this.
Kate put her hand on his shoulder.
“This is going to kill yer ma,” he said, lowering his hand from his eyes.
“I know, Dad.”
“Don’t tell her just yet. I’ll think of a way.” Mr. Kerwyn let out a deep, broken sigh. “Go get my brandy.” He had since replaced his special bottle with cheap stuff.
Kate did not think it was a good time to start drinking, but she left the room and obediently returned with the brandy.
“Did Bea say where they went?” her father asked gruffly.
“No.”
“Wonder if I could get the sheriff after them.” He pulled out the cork and drank straight from the bottle.
“I don’t think that would do any good, Dad. I think they’re probably married by now.”
“She better be.” He slammed a fist on the table, causing Kate to jump. “How could she do this to us? What are we gonna tell the Tierneys? The wedding was only a month away!”
The screen door creaked open, and Nettie stepped in from her shift at Ben’s. “What’s wrong?” she asked, shrugging out of her coat. “Why the long faces? Someone die?”
“Louisa’s eloped with Henry Crawford,” Kate said quietly. “We just found out from Aunt Bea.”
“What!” Nettie cried. “When?”
“A couple of days ago, we think.”
“But what about the wedding! I’ve already got my dress fitted!”
“Well, the wedding is obviously off. And I think your dress is the least of our worries, Nettie.”
“How selfish can she possibly be?” Nettie cried.
“Quiet down!” Mr. Kerwyn barked. “Yer ma doesn’t know yet, so quit yer bellyachin’. It ain’t gonna help.”
Nettie walked to the kitchen table as if in a trance. She pulled out a chair and slid into it, cradling her head. “Wasn’t it enough for her to have Vernon, but to take Henry, too?” Her eyes had tears of fury in them. “Now I’ll never get married!”
“I think you’re exaggerating a little, Nettie,” Kate said ruefully.
“No, I’m not! No one’ll court me with a sister like that! They’ll tar me with the same brush.”
“Just give it time. People forget,” Kate tried to say reassuringly, but in her heart she knew that some, like herself, were not prone to forgetting.
Mr. Kerwyn rose heavily. “I’m goin’ up to talk to yer ma.” He shuffled across the room. “Then I’ll have to go over to the Tierneys’ and let them know. Wouldn’t do to say it on the telephone. You two best get supper started,” he said wearily, and tramped up the stairs.