Ivy walked on, thinking of Mr. Rees’s job offer. This time, she pondered the positives—of a special child who needed patience and kindness. Of a position where she’d be valued. A generous salary, more than she’d make as a teacher here, which would allow her to build savings. And, best of all, where she’d be with her dear Cora.
Sweetwater Springs, Montana.
For the first time in months, Ivy felt something flutter in her chest.
Hope.
Once she’d removedher outerwear, made her way to her bedroom, and avoided her sister and mother, Ivy took a seat ather small desk. She peered into the cheap porkpie ink bottle, checking to see if it held enough ink. She had to provide her own ink and paper, but, occasionally, if she ran out, she took some of her father’s—not enough for him to notice, but enough to finish whatever she was writing—usually a letter to Cora, but sometimes lesson plans or notes to herself about her pupils.
Taking a pen, paper, envelopes, and a wiper from a drawer, she dipped her pen into the inkwell, took a breath, and began to carefully write.
Dear Mr. Rees,
After some thought, I have decided to accept your offer to travel to Sweetwater Springs for the position of governess to your daughter. I understand you wish for a private life. The truth is, even in the midst of bustling New York, my life is very restricted, especially since the Misses Colliers moved to Sweetwater Springs. I spend most of my time in household tasks, some in study and reading for pleasure, and the tutoring I do. Prior to Cora’s moving, I spent most of my free time with her. Her visits to Three Bend Lake will provide me with enough social congress.
Before I depart, could I have your permission to purchase some books and teaching aids for Jewel? I don’t mind using my own money, and you can reimburse me. I will be able to depart at whatever date you think best.
Sincerely,
Ivy Jackson
As soon as she finished the letter to Mr. Rees, she pulled over another sheet of paper and began to write to Cora, not even bothering with a salutation nor with particularly elegant copperplate.
All right, Cora, what scheme of yours have you ensnared me in now?
The Altuchers decided to economize. There went the last of my tutoring students, making me vulnerable to your plotting. So in a moment of weakness, I wrote Mr. Rees that I’d accept the job of governess he offered—the one I know you put him up to. So spill, my best friend. You’ve briefly mentioned him and Jewel, but now I want more details.
And, although I know everything you brought to Sweetwater Springs, now that you’ve been there for over five months, what else do you recommend I bring with me? My harp, of course. My books. My teaching materials. I can make some more letters for Jewel and bring enough scraps of fabric to create the whole alphabet.
Mr. Rees wrote that all the correspondence needs to go through you, which seems a cumbersome way to arrange things. But since he’s paying me fifty dollars a month, I’m inclined to bend to his wishes. Fifty dollars! And room and board. I’ll be able to save quite a lot!
I suppose I should thank you, and, indeed, I am grateful. But I’m also frightened to take such a big step. (And I wish it were amerebig step instead of a long journey halfway across the country). Any tips for surviving the train trip with my virtue and sanity intact?
Your soon-to-be-seen, Ivy
A knock on her door heralded her sister. “Enter.”
Katie stuck her head inside, her brow wrinkled, hazel eyes anxious. “Mama’s awake and wants to talk to you. She thought the crust was too hard on the bread you baked today.”
Ivy rolled her eyes.Papa doesn’t notice what I cook and bake, and Mama complains about what I cook and bake.
In that moment, Ivy knew she’d made the right choice to leave. Papa would be forced to hire a servant or servants because Katie didn’t have the skills or the time to manage the household. Her new employer might be exacting like either one of herparents or in an entirely new way. But she’d worry about what he was like when she was in Sweetwater Springs.
3
A storm had dumped a foot of snow on Three Bend Lake. The next afternoon, while Jewel was napping, Torin figured he should shovel his front walkway. When last he saw Brian, his friend had indicated that the next Sunday Cora wasn’t working and the snow lay heavy enough, Mr. Bellaire would let them borrow his two-person sleigh to drive up the mountain.
Truth be told, Torin didn’t need an excuse to get outside and have some exercise. After being cooped up with his daughter for three days, except for hurried visits to the stable to see to the livestock, he was exhausted with trying to entertain her, so sick of thePs andJs that she wanted to discuss and write that he wanted to banish the letters from the alphabet. Instead, each time he’d smile and reach deep inside for patience.
As he shoveled, taking slow breaths of the fresh, snow-scented air, he pondered dark thoughts. Most times, he didn’t notice his daughter’s differences. She was just Jewel, his little sweetheart. And there weren’t other girls around to compare her to.
Maybe it was the glimpse he’d gotten of Inga Swensen that put some dissatisfied ideas in his head. He’d never beforethought that by this age Jewel should be reading books and sewing a sampler—activities that didn’t require his involvement so he could do other tasks. True, she’d taken on the domestic duty of cleaning the kitchen after a meal. But he still needed to supervise.
And on days without the physical exertion of a long walk, she often wasn’t tired enough for a nap. Due in part to bad weather, today’s nap was the first in three days, and only because she’d “helped” him shovel the back walkway and bring in a stack of wood. Both activities took three times longer than usual.
It’s just the winter dismals,he told himself.It’s March. According to the calendar, the weather is supposed to be heading for spring.
But other Marches had been cold and snowy, and I didn’t feel so discontented.
