“I don’t have much to offer a woman. Not yet.”
“You’re enough just as you are.” She smiled and brushed the collar of my coat with her fingertips. “I have a feeling the young ladies of Emerson Pass will be tripping over one another to meet our new handsome bachelor. I’ll be sure to tell you who to stay away from and who is good.”
I knew the girl I wanted. She was standing right in front of me. Now I just had to win her heart.
Josephine
The night of Phillip’s arrival, we dined with my parents. The little girls had already eaten and been tucked into bed, but Fiona and Cymbeline were allowed to join the adults. My brothers had stayed in town to eat at the café before working from Papa’s office.
The chandelier shed soft light over the dining room table. Mama and Papa always sat on either end with my siblings and me on either side. Tonight, Cymbeline and Fiona sat across from each other on the end nearest Papa. Phillip and I were opposite, near Mama.
Phillip had dressed for dinner in a dark suit and white shirt with a bow tie. I hadn’t expected him to be quite so nice-looking. I’m not sure why, but it had never crossed my mind what he looked like one way or the other, only that he’d been Walter’s friend. He’d been through a lot, and I have must seemed like a spoiled rich girl. What did he think of me? I was surprised to realize I hoped I’d lived up to my letters and that I wanted very much for him to like me.
Before the first course of squash soup, Papa raised his glass. “To Phillip. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m pleased to be here.”
We all lifted our glasses to toast. My sisters looked fetching in their dinner dresses. Fiona was in a soft blue and Cymbeline in gold with small beads sewn into a lovely pattern. This was her first formal dress as a young woman of sixteen. She’d been the same height for several years and most likely wouldn’t grow taller. She was curvier than Fiona and me and strong as an ox. One day a few years ago, I’d caught her standing in front of the mirror, crying over the fact that her breasts had seemed to arrive out of nowhere. “I don’t want them,” she’d said. “They’re pulling me forward when I skate or run.” I’d had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. Only Cymbeline would be dismayed by her chest, whereas I wished I had much of anything at all in that area. My sister was not your ordinary girl.
“Papa, please tell us about the slope,” Cymbeline said. “I can hardly wait to try skiing.”
Papa’s eyes lit up as he set down his glass and answered my sister. “The rope pulled me up the mountain with limited effort. Theo’s system is genius.”
“Did you go fast on the way down? Were you afraid?” Fiona asked, her eyes wide.
“I was not afraid, but remember, I skied in Switzerland on holiday as a child,” Papa said. “I’d forgotten how exhilarating it is.”
“Dear me, I do hope you won’t make me do it,” Mama said. “I’m not keen on heights or speed.”
Papa flashed an indulgent smile her way. “You, my love, will stay in the lodge sipping a hot toddy and watching your husband conquer the mountain.”
“That sounds lovely,” Mama said, smiling back at him, looking pretty in a beaded cream dress with her golden hair piled on top of her head. Long white gloves ran the length of her arms.
“What’s the lodge like?” Fiona asked. “Will it be fancy?”
“I was imagining it more rustic,” Phillip said. “With large beams and high ceilings.”
We all turned to look at him.
He flushed at the attention. I had the feeling he hadn’t meant to speak.
“Are you familiar with ski lodges?” Mama asked.
“Not really,” Phillip said. “I imagine them that way, for some reason.”
“Do you fancy architecture?” Papa asked.
“Nothing so complex as that,” Phillip said. “Cabinets and furniture suit me fine.”
“We don’t have a furniture shop in town,” Cymbeline said, her eyes sparkling. She’d inherited Papa’s excitement around business. If she’d been born a man, I could easily see her opening a business of her own. Now, if all went well, her best hope was to work for my brothers. She was a born leader but needed something to focus on or she got herself in trouble.
“True enough,” Papa said. “I’d like to have one so we are as independent from the city as possible. As it stands now, people make their own or have them shipped at great expense on the train. Perhaps you could make something for us in the barn to show me an example of what you can make. A business loan could be arranged if I like what I see.”
I stole a glance at Phillip. He was leaning forward slightly with his spoon hovering above his bowl. “I’m not a braggart, Lord Barnes, but I’m skilled. Where would I get wood?”
“We have a forest of it right here.” Papa pointed toward the windows. “Cedars, firs, quaking aspens. If you can cut it down on my land, you can have it.”
“I’ve not cut down a tree before,” Phillip said.
“I have,” Cymbeline said. “With an ax. There’s nothing to it.”
“You could take him out, Cym, and show him how we do it in Colorado,” Papa said.
“I’d love to,” Cymbeline said. “You have to be patient, chipping away at it one swing at a time.”
“Patience is something I’m good at,” Phillip said.
“Don’t forget the triangle part,” Fiona said.
“Right. You make a forty-five-degree angled notch in the trunk,” Cymbeline said. “We’ll show you.”
“Girls chop down trees in Colorado?” Phillip asked, looking from Cymbeline to me, then to Papa.
“We do whatever a boy can do here,” Cymbeline said with a flash of rebellion in her eyes. “If we want to, anyway. Jo doesn’t care for rough jobs, but I do.”
“The noise it makes when the tree falls scares me,” Fiona said. “But I try to be brave so Cymbeline doesn’t get impatient with me.”
“I worry about their safety, of course,” Mama said. “But these girls know the woods as well as their papa. However, might I suggest that a trip to the local sawmill, where they have cut wood, might be more efficient?”
Lord Barnes laughed. “As usual, my dear, you’re correct.”
“The Barnes ladies open libraries, chop down trees, and roam the woods, and what else?” Phillip’s blue eyes twinkled as he gazed across the table at me.
A little buzz started in my chest. He was absolutely too handsome and personable. He already had my sisters twisted around his finger. If I weren’t careful, I might like him. No, my heart belonged to my poor dead soldier. I’d promised him.
“My wife was our first schoolteacher,” Papa said.
“What about you, Miss Fiona?” Phillip asked. “What will you do?”
“I sing and play the piano,” Fiona said. “I might be a teacher like Mama was before I get married and have lots and lots of babies.”
“Fiona’s a very good singer,” Cymbeline said, sounding proud. “She’s going to sing in church this coming Sunday.”