Millie removed the lid and lifted the ladle. Creamy, thick liquid spilled into Kit’s bowl. “It’s hot chowder,” she told Knut.
Hot chowder?Hallie froze; but her blood didn’t. It surged to her face, and she knew that anyone who looked at her could see she was bright red. She sunk a little lower in her chair, wishing she could fade away into nothingness. So much for her big plans. Instead she would have to suffer through the longest, most uncomfortable meal of her entire adult life.
Chowder?
“The boys are finally downand tucked in,” Hallie said, as she closed their bedroom door as quietly as she could.
“Shhh,” Dagny warned.
A rustle from the single bed across the room drew her eyes. Liv snuggled farther under the heavy wool blanket, and within seconds the youngster’s breathing was slow and even.
Hallie tiptoed over to the double bed she and Dagny shared. Her sister sat cross-legged on top of the woven coverlet, and both of the feather bed pillows were wedged between her back and the iron bedstead. It was a stance Hallie recognized. Dagny wanted to talk, or, more than likely, her perceptive younger sister had decided that Hallie needed to talk.
“What was going on tonight, Hallie?”
“What do you mean ‘what was going on?’” Hallie sat on the edge of the bed, giving her prying sister an excellent view of her back as she bent to untie the ribbons on her shoes.
“I’m not a simpleton,” Dagny whispered, “although even a moron could have figured that our little family outing tonight had all the earmarks of one of Haldis Fredriksen’s famous schemes gone haywire.”
“Unbutton my dress please.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Dagny!” Hallie whispered heatedly, “I’m the oldest in this family, and I don’t have to answer to anyone.” So much for the talk, she thought; a talking to is more like it.
“You have to answer to your own conscience.” Dagny pushed a covered button through the tight hole on Hallie’s dress. “And to Da, when he gets home. Look, Hallie, I’m just worried about you. I love you, and I don’t want to see you do something stupid and spend another two years having to hide from Kit Howland.”
“Are you through?”
Dagny freed the last button. “There. All done.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Hallie shucked the dress, petticoat, and crinoline. “Are you through lecturing me?” She kicked free of the clinging flannel underskirt then worked at the knots on her corset ties. They were tangled tighter than a madwoman’s knitting. She’d laced them too tight. She turned toward the light, to better see the knots, and instead saw the hurt on Dagny’s face.
“Oh, Duggie,” she said on a sigh. “I’m not mad at you, just mad at myself.” Hallie had to accept the blame for this evening, all of which was her own cockamamie idea. It was dumb, stupid, and as Dagny reminded her, so typical. “The man has no manners,” she grumbled.
“Why?”
“I don’t know why... Maybe he was raised by wolves.” She laughed.
“I meant, why are you mad at yourself?” Dagny clarified.
Hallie flopped back on the bed, an arm resting over her eyes. “You’re right,” she said dismally. “I really did something stupid.”
“I assume it has something to do with Kit Howland?”
Hallie nodded.
“You always worry over the silliest things. Whatever you did is probably not so bad.” But Dagny snuggled deep into the pillows, as if she were expecting a long story.
Hallie poured out her whole tale, starting with the apple tree and ending with her plan to impress Kit into seeing her as a woman.
“Oh, Hallie.”
“I know... I know... it was a dumb idea.”
Dagny leaned real close, her expression serious. “Did he really kiss you?” she whispered.
Hallie nodded.
