Chapter 22
Lively dinner conversation did not make the night’s menu. Lily hadn’t expected it would so the stretches of silence did not surprise her.
The other women knew of her predicament. They’d heard her thud to the parlor floor and entered the room in time to see the doctor pick her up and carry her upstairs. She knew all of this from Violet, who sat by her side in that hard-seated, stiff-backed wooden chair in the bedroom where she woke.
Aside from inquiring about the bump on her forehead, her sisters made no mention of the doctor’s declaration. That would not last. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. They were mulling her situation over now but eventually the questions would begin. When they did, she’d be in it up to her ears.
Lily concentrated on savoring these last moments of peace. That they all didn’t knock her over with questions and opinions offered some space to breathe.
Violet sighed, the sound so loud and long it could be heard in every corner of the modest kitchen.
“The schoolroom kept us busy this morning, didn’t it, Lin?” She nodded to the woman sitting across the table from her.
“Oh, yes. Very busy.” A poke at the potatoes on her plate with her fork, then, “Very much fun.”
Her schoolteacher sister seemed determined to find some sense of normalcy. She pushed forward, even though her words sounded wooden. “We learned about the Great Wall, in China.” When no one spoke, she went on. “It’s my good fortune to have Lin here with us. She is knowledgeable about her home country and the children love hearing about it. Thank you for spending time in the schoolroom with me, Lin.”
“My pleasure to talk about China.”
“It’s the ideal way to bring a geography lesson to life.” Her sister gave her a small smile before she stabbed a green bean and ate it. “I could never get those children to have any idea what China is like without Lin’s help. And there are two Chinese children in town now. They don’t attend the school—yet—but I’m hopeful it will happen.”
“Yes, I spoke with the mother this afternoon.” The Chinese woman nodded, sending the thick, glistening black braid she wore sliding along one shoulder of her dress. “She wants the children to learn but we are working on their English.”
Violet sounded relieved. “I’m glad to hear that. I hate to think of children in town not getting an education. I mean, that’s what I’m here for.” She put her fork down and snapped her fingers. “Will it help if I send over some McGuffey Readers? They worked well enough to help you with your language skills. Maybe the children will find them useful, too.”
Lin nodded. “Yes, they were helpful. I would not speak this well if not for you and McGuffey.”
Daisy dropped her fork on the edge of her plate with a clatter that silenced both women.
“Look, I think it’s wonderful that Lin is here, and I would love to hear about China, too, when there’s time. But tonight? It does not seem like the moment to discuss children or the school—or even China!” She paused and met Lin’s startled gaze. “I apologize. That probably sounds awful and I mean no disrespect.”
A tip of the chin from the woman whose birthplace came under discussion showed she was not offended by the outburst.
Their hostess put her fork down, as well. She glanced at to her right, where the subject of their discussion sat.
Lily felt every gaze in the place on her. Six eyes, all inquisitive and boring a hole into her face. She considered not looking up, not meeting their gazes or giving the answers they ached to hear.
Hightailing it out of Wylder crossed her mind. She could hop the Union Pacific out of town, head to Cheyenne or Laramie where no one knew her and fade into obscurity. It would work.
If she were destined for obscurity, which she most certainly was not!
No, she’d leave running away for the faint of heart.
She placed her fork on the edge of her plate, wiped her hands across the napkin on her lap, and inhaled. Then she looked up and, as she suspected, found three pairs of probing eyes turned on her.
“What?” She spread her hands wide. “What do you want me to say?”
Daisy quirked a brow. It irked her that in the moment her younger sister wore a smug expression. “I’d think the question is more of a ‘who?’ than a ‘what?’ if you want me to be honest about what I’m thinking.”
Violet cleared her throat. Color rose on her cheeks. “I’m wondering ‘when?’—as in, were you…ah, when you left Charleston, were you, ah, I mean—”
“Pregnant!” Daisy slapped her hand down on the table with enough force the water in their glasses swayed. “The word is pregnant, sister—and you shouldn’t be embarrassed to say it, either. Goodness, women have been getting pregnant since…well, since forever. And now our dear, eldest, most revered sister is the one who’s got herself knocked up.”
Lily’s fingers clenched. Smacking the sarcasm right out of her sister would turn this conversation around, but it would surely get her tossed out of the house, as well. These sisters weren’t much but right now they were all she had. She struggled to remain calm.
The Chinese woman had been quiet but at Daisy’s latest eruption she dropped her fork and covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes, so round and beautifully dark, grew so large that they looked ready to pop from her head.
Their hostess reacted exactly as one would expect a schoolteacher to—she snapped her fingers, raised a hand to stop the conversation, and shot each sister a glare. The color rose higher in her cheeks, but anger chased embarrassment.
“Stop it.” She hitched a breath and turned her attention on the wide-eyed woman. “I’m so sorry, Lin. My sisters are acting like common street urchins and showing our family in a poor light. Please, excuse their rude behavior.”
Lin gave a nod. “No need to apologize.” She picked up her plate and began to stand. “I leave you sisters to talk.”
A hand wave from their hostess dropped her back into the chair. “Don’t leave. You’re family, too—you’re as much a sister to me as anyone else in this room, so stay, please.”
The uproar bought Lily time, but she had no idea what to say, really. What more could they want? The fact sang clear: She had a difficult situation and had no idea how to cope.
The silver lining, that the sickness should abate soon. The doctor seemed certain it would only be a week or so longer before she stopped vomiting. That lightened her spirits more than anything had in the past months. If only she could chuck the rest of what weighed on her shoulders.
That had been a thought since she’d heard the doctor’s pronouncement, that she should divest herself of the situation entirely. But how? And, more importantly, did she have the stomach for such a thing?
She didn’t think she did, although the idea of walking away from this sounded almost too good to resist.
The almost. That’s what caught her.
Violet spoke in a gentler tone. “Lily, we are your family. We care for you and want to help, but we can’t do that if we’re kept in the dark. Now, would you please let us in on what’s happened?”
She shrugged. “I suppose I have no choice, do I?”
Her sister ignored that and went on. “Did the doctor’s diagnosis come as a surprise to you?”
“I suspected as much.” She sighed. “But I hoped to be wrong.”
Silence fell over the room. She leaned into it, loving the way they all shut up and stopped snapping at her. Being the center of this showed how a rabbit on the run from wolves must feel.
The respite didn’t last long.
Daisy drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. Honestly, the girl acted like she’d been brought up in a stable.
“Stop it, will you?” She placed a hand against her brow. “That incessant noise will make me feel unwell again, and that is the last thing I need. Besides, how do you ever hope to get a husband with ink-stained, calloused fingers? Really, sister, consider yourself.”
Despite her condition, it fell to her to lead the sisterhood. They’d best remember that.
The drumming ceased, but a shriek of laughter replaced it. When it ripped through her mind her fingers clenched again.
“Consider myself? Isn’t that the kettle calling the pot black?” Daisy stood, grabbed her plate, and crossed to the sink. She slipped it into the dish pan before turning back and leaning a hip against the wooden counter. “Have you forgotten how I held your shoulders while you were sick earlier today? Or how I’ve endured your snippy remarks as we crossed the country? And maybe it’s slipped your mind that I’m the one who left her life and journeyed out here with you—you, whose life blew apart in Charleston. I could have let you come west alone, the way Violet did, but I came with you. That, dear sister, is something you ought to consider.”