The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2)

“Are you sure about that? Because he certainly never made that clear to your papa. He didn’t write to you but once a month.” She put up a hand. “Don’t make excuses for him. He was simply too lazy or didn’t care enough to write to you after every letter he received. Is that what you would have accepted as a wife? A man who only filled you up halfway? Don’t you dare sit there and tell me his lack of correspondence didn’t hurt.”

“It’s no good speculating at this venture, Mama. I’ll never know what it’s like to be married to him. As you’ve so aptly said, he’s dead.”

“We didn’t raise you to accept second best, Josephine.”

“Walter was the best. Writing letters isn’t the totality of a man’s character.” With that, I strode to the door and fled up the stairs. The moment I was in the bedroom, I threw myself on my bed and burst into tears.

Josephine

The evening of the festival, my sisters and I were all bundled up in our warmest outerwear and tucked under blankets in the large sleigh. Papa and Mama were in the front, sitting together as closely as two people could. Overhead, the stars blessed us with their beauty. A sliver of the moon hung over the northern mountain. In the quiet of the evening, even the horses seemed hushed, their hooves making a pleasant pitter-patter through the soft snow. All morning and into the late afternoon, powdery flakes had tumbled from the heavens. Around three, the clouds had parted and drifted away, replaced by a sky more purple than blue until the short day transitioned into darkness.

I had the little girls on either side of me. One thick blanket was tucked over all three of us, creating a pocket of warmth from our bodies. The sweet scent of their freshly washed hair tucked under their matching blue caps mingled with the smells of the piney forest.

Delphia’s excitement was palpable. She leaned forward, the muscles in her neck straining to see around Mama. “I can’t see town yet, Jo.”

“You will. Be patient,” Mama said.

“Look at the stars instead,” I said to Delphia.

Delphia jerked her head upward, moving the blanket, which let in a burst of cold air.

“The stars,” Addie said with a sigh as she tilted her face toward the sky. She shivered, either from the chill or the poignant beauty of the night. I put my arm around her narrow shoulders and pulled her closer to my side. There were times with all my sisters that I could hear their thoughts despite the lack of words, but no one more than with my dear Addie. Like me, she could not fathom the beauty of the night. There were things that could not be explained, both good and bad in this world. I wished Addie would only know nights such as this one but I feared that would not be true. Still, I knew this one undeniable truth. One must keep on despite disappointments and losses, because good times would come again. Sweet was stronger than sour, courage stronger than fear.

“Fiona, sing to us,” Papa called out from the driver’s seat.

“‘Silent Night,’ please,” Mama said.

Fiona’s rich voice rang out from behind us where she and Cymbeline sat together. “Silent night, holy night.”

I turned around to take a peek at them. Fiona sat straight as a board, her neck long as she sang. Cymbeline stared upward, unusually still, as if mesmerized by her sister’s musicality. They were as bright as the stars just then.

The lights of town appeared as Fiona sang the last verse. As we approached the center of town, Delphia squealed at the sight of all the people.

“I thought we’d never have a night like this again,” Mama said. “All this seemed far, far away during the war.”

“We’re all safe and well. Tonight we celebrate our good fortune.” Papa stopped near the gazebo to let us out. “You girls go ahead. I’ll take care of the horses and meet you there.”

“Do hurry, Papa,” Cymbeline said. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Not to worry,” Papa said. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Cymbeline and Fiona each took the hand of one of the little girls and ran ahead. Mama and I had been polite to each other since our spat the day before but hadn’t spoken of it.

“Jo, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

I threw my arms around her. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s only that I want you to be happy. You’ve always been such a good girl, putting everyone before yourself. I don’t want you to do it for Walter. Whether or not he would have been what you wanted, he’s no longer here. Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But regardless, I’m simply not interested in Phillip Baker. Please, don’t get your hopes up just because the rest of you seem to have fallen in love with him overnight.”

“Fine. I won’t say another word.”

“All right, then.” We shared a smile and then linked arms and walked toward the crowd. I scanned the people, looking for Phillip, and found him with Theo over by the ice. They had their heads together, talking closely. “There’s Phillip,” I said, under my breath. “There with Theo.”

“Were you looking for him?” Mama asked.

“What? No. I mean, yes. He’s our guest and I wanted to make sure he was all right. The boys may have worked him too hard.”