Dovetail(27)

His eyes adjusted, and he looked around for something that could serve as a weapon, but there was nothing nearby, only the possessions he’d brought from home. Books, so he could study during his free time. Paper, pen, and ink. Some clothing. A comb and his shaving kit. A letter his mother had snuck into his case saying how much she loved him and how proud she was to have him for a son. Nothing he could use to defend himself except the element of surprise.

He readied himself for a confrontation. He’d seen the kind of possessive anger Frank had displayed in other men. There was no reasoning with someone who had no reason. The best thing to do was to avoid such individuals and, if that couldn’t be done, shut them down in a way that didn’t hurt their pride. If men like that felt publicly shamed, they’d carry that grudge to the grave and spend every waking minute in the meantime seeking vengeance. An ugly way to live and hard to understand, but that’s what he’d witnessed.

By the time the intruder was on the other side of the curtain, John was ready and waiting. He flexed his hand into a fist. When he heard the person’s ragged breathing, he pulled the fabric aside in one quick movement, startled to see Pearl holding the handle of a kerosene lantern. It was a shock; he’d come close to hitting her.

“Oh, my word,” she said, her hand to her heart. “Don’t do that. You scared me!” She reached over and gave his arm a light slap, and he suddenly was aware of his lack of clothing. Wearing only pants, he felt shamefully bare. He turned his back on her and grabbed his shirt, then shook his arms into the sleeves while she watched.

When he turned back, she was still there, sizing him up with wide eyes. He said, “I’m surprised to see you here, Miss Bennett. Did your father send for me?”

“No,” she said, smiling coquettishly. “This was all my own idea. I wanted to see if you’re comfortable. Is there anything you need? A blanket? Some water?” She came closer and squeezed his biceps, and he stood woodenly, not wanting to encourage her.

“No, I think your sister Alice thought of everything.”

“Oh, Alice.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s such an old mother hen.”

“I found her to be very welcoming.” Meeting the Bennett family was initially overwhelming—all those girls! But Alice was the calm in the center of the storm. Her father had sung her praises on the wagon ride home from the train, telling him about her cooking skills and how she loved to read and to sing. “My little Ally-bird,” he’d called her. She had taken her mother’s place in the household without complaint. John was already predisposed to like her, but it came to more than that once he actually met her.

He found her a little fascinating. She was soft-spoken but stood up for herself with Frank. John offered to help her wash the dishes, but she whisked him away with a snap of her dish towel, making him laugh. And then she flipped the towel over one shoulder and hummed her way to the sink, her hips swaying in a way he found mesmerizing.

And then there was the passionate way she played the piano after supper, her hands dancing on the keys and her singing voice sweet and pure. She’d pause and look up to encourage everyone to join in. He normally was not an enthusiast when it came to singing, but the occasion seemed to call for it. All of them added their voices to the song, some singing off-key and laughing when they fumbled the words. And Alice was at the center of it all.

Pearl was still standing there, so he added, “She created a comfortable place for me.” He indicated the hanging sheets, mattress, and down pillow.

“Alice is good like that.” The sentiment was favorable, but Pearl said it in a disapproving way. “She’s very sensible.” The words were spoken as if being sensible was not a positive trait.

“I don’t think your father would approve of you being out here,” John said. There was no question about it. Mr. Bennett would be horrified that his daughter was alone in a man’s sleeping quarters without a chaperone. It was scandalous. John was likely to lose his job if her father found out. “Thank you for checking on me, but I’m fine.”

“Are you dismissing me, Mr. Lawrence?” She tilted her head to one side and batted her eyelashes.

His mother had warned him about young women like her. “You have to watch out for those forward ones, the ones who come on to you shamelessly, flaunting themselves,” she’d said. “If they act that way to you, they’re doing it to other men as well. They’re the kind that will get themselves in the family way, and then you’ll be forced to marry them.”

He’d been embarrassed that his mother felt the need to have this conversation with him, and he’d assured her he had common sense. She didn’t have to worry about a shotgun wedding and an early baby where he was concerned.

“I think it’s best if you go,” he said to Pearl.

“Do you want to kiss me?” she asked, taking a step closer and tilting her face upward. Her blonde curls fell loosely to her shoulders, and he noticed that her nightgown draped closely to her body. Her arms were exposed, and so were her neck and collarbone. She was practically naked.

John had experienced bold women before, but their behavior usually consisted of winks and innuendo. And that was from the women who frequented taverns and consumed too much liquor. He’d never seen a girl from a good family act so familiar. If she continued conducting herself like this, she was setting herself up for a world of trouble. Most men, he knew, would take the bait. They’d take the bait and not stop until they were satiated. He knew to clamp down on this before it went any further.