“I know not what you speak of,” Father said, his voice low, “but you should watch your tongue, daughter, lest you find yourself at the mercy of the magistrates.”
I swallowed the other words that wanted release, knowing he was right. If I lost control, they would think I had also lost my mind—or worse.
“You will make yourself presentable to Susannah’s kin and spend the afternoon in their company. If they offer for you—though after the way you’ve treated them, I doubt it very much—you will heed my advice and accept them.”
I turned away from him, unable to agree to his demands. He didn’t wait for me to respond but took Susannah out of the kitchen.
Slowly I walked up the stairs, leaving the kitchen in a mess. My heart was heavier than it had ever been, and I didn’t know which way to go. Would Grace really leave me here alone? The very thought left me spiraling into despair. But could I blame her for wanting to go? If the situation were reversed, would I stay for Grace?
I wanted to believe I would, but shame washed over me with the truth. I wouldn’t stay here for Grace. As much as I loved her, nothing could have persuaded me to stay in Salem if I had a choice. Yet here I was.
Tapping on the door of our bedroom, I said, “May I come in?”
The door opened, and Grace stood on the other side, her face puffy and red. She moved aside, and I entered our room.
It was bare except for the bed, a washstand, and hooks on the wall to hold our Meeting dresses. To think that I was taking charity from my father was ludicrous. What little he gave me was no comparison to how hard I worked. The accusation made my blood boil all over again.
“I heard you,” Grace said as she took a seat on the bed, her shoulders hunched over. “I think the whole ordinary heard.”
I closed the door and pressed against it, leaning my head back. “I’m not made for this place.”
She offered a soft chuckle. “I don’t think anyone is made for this place except the magistrates and men like Father.”
“Susannah seems to like it.”
“She married well.”
“Perhaps that’s what I should do.”
“Don’t be rash. We’re still reeling from what happened. We have a lot of decisions to make, and we must take our time.”
I moved across the room and sat beside her, cautious hope budding in my heart. “Does that mean you’re still thinking about staying here?”
“Of course I am.” She turned to me. “We both have big decisions to make. I was only speaking out of my own fear and uncertainty.”
I tried not to appear too eager at her words. I didn’t want to push her into a decision, though it went against my nature to remain quiet.
“I’m just so—angry and sad and—” She sighed. “I need to tell you about something Luc said.”
I waited, my heart in my throat. “You saw him?”
“At your funeral.”
Had he told her he loved me? That he was devastated I had died? It would be little consolation, though it would carry me through my darkest hours.
Or worse—had he told Grace he lovedher?
“Armour and Company wants me to make the cross-country flight for you,” she said. “They will pay me ten thousand dollars regardless of how long it takes to get to California. And if I make it in thirty days, I’ll get the ten thousandplusthe fifty thousand from Mr. Hearst.”
“Grace!” I grabbed her hand, relieved and excited. “That’s wonderful. You can still help Mama and Daddy.”
“But I don’t know how to fly.”
“You can learn. I’m sure Luc would teach you.”
“He already offered.”
“Then why are you uncertain? This sounds ideal.”
