Page 59 of Stolen Time
Normally, I wouldn’t have been nearly as free with such an invitation while staying at someone else’s house, but Ruth had already told me it was fine for me to have Seth over whenever I liked. I supposed she didn’t view him exactly as a gentleman caller, since he was part of the family.
Also, she and Timothy had driven down to Cottonwood to do some shopping, so I was alone in the house and didn’t need to worry about anyone listening in on our conversation.
“Thank you,” Seth said, stepping inside. His gaze moved past me toward the hallway beyond, almost as though he feared his aunt Ruth might be lurking behind a door somewhere, doing her best to eavesdrop.
“They’re down in Cottonwood,” I said helpfully. “Would you like some lemonade, or a glass of water?”
“No, thank you,” he replied, then paused. Something in his manner seemed almost nervous, a description I probably wouldn’t have applied to him before now. Maybe we’d had an awkward moment here and there, but he’d never seemed truly ill at ease around me.
Might as well put it out there.
“Is something the matter?”
Those clear blue eyes met mine. “A few things have happened,” he said. “My brother Charles just got engaged to our cousin Abigail.”
For a second or two, I could only stare back at him as my brain did its best to accept the enormity of what he’d just told me.
Seth’s brother would be theprima-in-waiting’s consort.
I had to believe this wasn’t as happy a bit of news as one might have expected, judging by the serious set to Seth’s jaw, the way he hadn’t smiled at all as he told me about this latest change in his brother’s circumstances.
“Um…congratulations?” I offered, and now he smiled just the slightest bit.
“I’ll pass those along,” he said. “But the main reason I needed to tell you about what happened is that his engagement changes a lot of things. He now has his inheritance, which means he’ll no longer be working at the store. I’m taking over his position.”
This time, I was genuinely startled. Sure, I understood in a sort of abstract way that most consorts didn’t work, and yet this was the first time I’d seen this sort of transition occur in real time.
“Has your family suffered a loss?” I said, thinking that was a natural question to ask when an inheritance was in play.
“No, no,” Seth said quickly. “That is, the inheritance was left in a trust for Charles years ago when one of our great-aunts passed away. The stipulation was that he wouldn’t receive any of the money until he got engaged. But with him planning to marry Abigail before the end of the month, the money will be coming to him very soon.”
A clever way to explain why a man in the prime of life would suddenly stop working to play devoted house-husband. If they even had those in the 1920s, which I kind of doubted. Although the McAllisters were probably more equitable about such things than the general population, I couldn’t help noticing that labor here in Jerome was definitely divided along sharp gender-defined roles.
Whereas people living off their inheritances had seemed to be around since time immemorial, so I doubted anyone would probe Charles McAllister’s change in circumstances very deeply.
“What about your job at the mine?” I asked then, and Seth’s shoulders lifted in a shrug that I didn’t believe for a moment.
“I like it, and I’ll miss it,” he said, being a bit more frank than I’d expected. “But family is more important, and my parents need me at the mercantile.” A flash of real humor lit up thoseclear blue eyes as he added, “At least I won’t get as dusty and dirty there.”
No, probably not. And I’d been in Jerome long enough to know that the store opened at eight and closed at five, which meant he’d have much more relationship-friendly working hours.
Something in my gaze must have been questioning, because he went on, the words coming out a little faster than he’d probably intended, “My parents told me I could start whenever I liked this morning, since I had to tender my resignation at the mine and get a few things worked out. And that’s why I wanted to stop and talk to you.”
“To give me the news?” I asked, and he shook his head.
“Not exactly. Or rather, sure, I needed to let you know I would be at the store from now on, just so you wouldn’t be surprised if you came by and saw me working there.” He paused, and his expression grew much more sober. “No, the problem is that my parents had already planned to do inventory tonight, and they need me there. I’ll have to cancel our date to go dancing in Cottonwood.”
“Oh,” I said. Not exactly the most brilliant response, but I was a little startled by the wave of disappointment that washed over me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to having Seth teach me the Charleston — or whatever was popular here in Arizona in 1926 — until I heard that he wouldn’t be able to make it after all. I summoned a smile and added, “That’s all right. I know the family business needs to come first.”
The tense set of his shoulders relaxed slightly. “That’s what I keep trying to tell myself. It’s just rotten timing. But,” he went on, looking a little more cheerful, “I was hoping I could make it up to you somehow. I considered going to the picture show tomorrow, but then this morning, I thought maybe we could also go out for a dinner picnic this evening? My parents understandthat this has all happened quickly, so while I’m not free later tonight, we could have an early meal and still get to spend some time together before I have to go help them with inventory.”
That sounded like a wonderful idea. We’d had a great time during our first picnic, and I had to think one later in the day, after the sun had begun to go down behind Mingus Mountain, would be even more entrancing. True, we’d probably need to avoid walking in the woods, just because getting lost there after dark didn’t seem like a very good idea, but if we got our timing right, we might be able to see the moon rise beyond the Mogollon Rim to the east.
Or maybe not, if our meal was early enough in the evening. I hadn’t been keeping close enough track of moonrise and moonset to know for sure when it would be up.
“A dinner picnic would be lovely,” I said, and Seth’s expression brightened even further. “Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Only yourself,” he replied. “I’ll take care of the rest.” He paused there, and the cheerful grin he wore looked much more like the man I knew. “Or rather, I’ll probably have my mother help me put together something tasty.”