The Scholar (Emerson Pass Historicals 3) - Page 39

“Darling, that’s what it’s like to fall in love.”

“It is?” I jiggled my left foot under the table. Love? Was that what this was? Or the beginning of, anyway? “There’s this quality about him that makes me open up like a book—right in the middle of a book as if he’d already read the first chapters and I don’t have to explain much about what came before. Maybe because we grew up together. I can’t explain what I mean.” I threw up my hands. “What am I saying? He’s completely discombobulated me.”

Mother laughed. It was the first time since Father’s death that I’d heard the beautiful sound of her bubbly laughter. “Louisa, dear, this is all good, don’t you see?”

“We’re going on a picnic to the river tonight. He’s going to drive me in that shiny car.” I buried my face in my hands and spoke through my fingers. “Isn’t that just the most outrageous thing you’ve ever heard?”

“The car?” Mother sounded befuddled.

I dropped my hands to my sides and met her gaze. “Partly the car. But mostly that Theo Barnes wants to court me. Even after I made such a fool of myself over his brother.”

“You were all very young then,” Mother said. “No one can be held responsible for the romantic notions we have as children.”

“He’s asked to court me,” I said.

“What did you say?” She sat up a little straighter in her chair.

Her eagerness struck me. She wanted me to marry into the Barnes family, thus sealing my future. He would be the answer to her prayers, I felt certain.

“I said I’d like that, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to be the woman he wants and needs.”

“Why do you think that?” Mother studied me with an intensity that conveyed her great desire to understand me. I’d grown accustomed to her interest over the years, but I often wondered if I were inadequate. Was I so different from her that she had to struggle to comprehend me?

I studied my hands. How could I explain that my secret shame kept me from imagining a life with a man? Yet I had this urge to tell her the truth. She deserved to know why I hadn’t been able to think of myself marrying. My arms prickled with goose bumps as I tried to find the right words. “There’s something you don’t know. Something I never told anyone. I didn’t think there would be a reason for anyone else to know, but now I can see I should have told you and Father so that you would understand why I’ve been opposed to the idea of marriage.”

“What is it?” Her eyes didn’t leave my face. She reached for the Bible, closed the pages, and brought the good book to her chest as if it were a shield.

“Right before I came to you and Father, Pa had become more and more desperate to find ways to buy his drink. We were destitute. I was begging in town for fish heads and scraps. The children at school were sharing their lunches with me but still, I was hungry all the time. One night, Pa took me to a man. He sold me to him for a night. To do with me as he wished.”

Mother placed a hand over her heart. Her complexion had turned the color of the center of the sourdough bread. “I thought it might be true. That it had happened to you too.”

“What do you mean by ‘you too’?” I held my breath, watching Mother.

Her features crumpled. She spoke so softly I instinctively leaned closer to her. “I, too, had to endure it. A family member. Someone close to me. That’s why I couldn’t have children. Parts of me were damaged.”

Tears flooded my vision. “Mother, I’m so very sorry.” I left the chair to drop on my knees next to her.

She set aside the Bible and caressed my cheek with cold fingers. “I’m sorry for you too, my sweet girl. I understand now why you thought marriage was impossible. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to forget it ever happened. Most of the time, I could. But pieces come back to me. Just like they do with Pa’s game.”

“Damn him to hell.” Mother shuddered before pulling me into her arms. I could feel her disgust and rage as if it were in my own body. She was my mother. No matter how we came together, she loved me.

“I don’t remember most of it, thankfully.” I described how I’d been separated from my body while it happened. “I went to the stars.”

“It’s our way of protecting ourselves from acts too heinous to endure,” Mother said.

“Does it mean we’re always separated from our bodies from then on?” I couldn’t explain exactly what I was asking, but Mother understood. I knew from the way she answered the question.

“This may be hard to believe, but if you have the right man—one who is gentle and as good as Simon was to me—you’ll be able to be the wife a man wants.”

“Is that really true? Were you able to feel like other women do about their husbands?” I tapped my chest. “Not in your heart but your body?”

She nodded and gave me a slight smile. “Yes, love has a way of lightening the burdens of the past. Even ones as dark as what we experienced.”

I rose from the floor to return to my chair. “I’ve realized that the idea of Flynn was only an excuse to keep myself distant from any suitors. I told myself that if it wasn’t Flynn then it was no one. When in actuality, the entire thing was simply a way to remain protected. I didn’t think I could ever be enough for anyone. Especially a fine man like Theo.” Maybe even some part of me had known Theo was the one who would touch my heart, so I’d kept myself distant from him. All I knew now was that I didn’t want to be distant from him. I wanted to go toward him.

“Give it time. Let him woo you,” Mother said. “Bit by bit, you’ll find yourself opening up to him and the idea of marriage.”

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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