The Typewriter Girl Read online

  It was rare to find Fletcher sincere, but he was when he met Benjamin’s eyes. He enjoyed goading Benjamin, but not about Daniel. Never Daniel. He returned his gaze to the window and watched Emma cross the street with Mrs. Dowling. Emma clutched a shawl about her shoulders as the wind blew her faded brown skirt to reveal a brief glimpse of ankle. When that sight was denied him, he noticed the shoes, which were still the same rain weathered shoes he had first seen her wearing.

  “Perhaps you could use some of your money to pay that poor girl enough to buy something to wear. That one outfit of hers looks like it’s been through a tornado.”

  “Just a rainstorm.”

  He offered a sly, knowing look, which Benjamin chose to ignore. “Interesting strategy, though. As the fabric wears out—”

  “I pay her enough.”

  Fletcher studied his subject. “You might find another gold mine under that frumpy skirt—which, let’s be honest, doesn’t deserve to be called a skirt, really. It’s more of a sack, which I swear I saw once on my own Aunt Mathilda, who, God rest her soul, has been gone these forty years.”

  The barber chimed in, “You don’t have an Aunt Mathilda.”

  “If I did, she’d wear something like that—only her bosom would sway back and forth at her waist, kind of like this.”

  Benjamin had to laugh as he watched Fletcher demonstrate a little too well.

  “Whereas this girl—well, who knows whether she’s even got a bosom under the wrinkled folds of that—?”

  “Shut up,” said Benjamin, who knew full well that she did.

  “I’ve an eye for these things.”

  “For old ladies’ bosoms?”

  “For young ladies’ bosoms—and the ladies attached. This one might have potential.”

  “Yes. As a typewriter girl.”

  Fletcher’s smile patronized. “And you don’t want people to think you’re too cheap to pay the poor girl what she’s worth. What’s she worth, by the way?”

  Benjamin flinched, but the barber pressed him into the chair.

  “I only meant that she—that is, her typewriting skills—must be worth the price of a dress. And just think what you’d do for the view while you’re working—not that you don’t have a spectacular view as it is. Of the cliff.” He paused for a dramatic sigh. “But for me, just give me a couple of round, rolling hills.”

  The words were enough, but the gesture that came with them sent Benjamin over the edge. While the barber was still brushing away snips of hair from his collar, Benjamin leapt to his feet. Eyes burning at Fletcher, he dug into his pocket and pulled out some money for the barber. “Thanks, Harry.”

  “Anytime,” said the barber as he reached for the broom and watched warily.

  Fletcher’s grin faded slowly as Benjamin approached. Glaring, Benjamin took each step slowly. His voice was deceptively deep and controlled. “That’s a nice tie.”

  Fletcher took a mistrustful step back. “Thank you. It’s—”

  With a yank, Benjamin twisted the tie, choking off the man’s answer, as well as his breath.

  “Benjamin,” the barber cautioned from the back of the room.

  Benjamin loosened his grip, patting Fletcher on the shoulder. “You go too far sometimes.”

  As he walked outside, Fletcher said, “I mean this with the utmost respect. You seem tense, Ben. When’s the last time you drained the old coffer?”

  “My coffer’s just fine, thank you.” He answered without looking back.

  Fletcher followed. “Just kidding,” he said, as he smoothed out his tie. “Now look at that,” he said, fussing over a wrinkle.

  Benjamin looked at the tie hanging crumpled and limp, and suppressed a grin.

  They walked for a block without speaking, then Fletcher said, “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

  Benjamin looked askance toward Fletcher.

  “Look, I thought you might see us and wonder, so I wanted to tell you. I’ve been spending some time with Henrietta.”

  Henrietta Grafton. Benjamin’s last meeting with her stuck in his mind, even though he had tried to forget. It was after Daniel’s memorial service. Few words were exchanged, but the look she gave him could have sawed through an ice block. The image was poorly chosen. It called to mind the frozen Klondike and Daniel—and that was too much to recall. His thoughts returned to Henrietta. She and Daniel might have been married by now, if he hadn’t talked Daniel into the going with him to the Klondike.

  “Benjamin?” They had stopped in the sidewalk, and Fletcher was waiting for a response, growing restless as each silent moment went by.

  Benjamin looked at him blankly.

  “I said, I see Henrietta Grafton now and then,” Fletcher repeated.

  “I see her, too. And she tries not to see me.”

  “She’s been through a difficult time.”

  “Yes, I know,” replied Benjamin, with an austere expression.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dredge up—”

  “Look, Fletcher, you don’t need my permission.”

  “I’m not asking for it. It’s not even like that. Not yet. We’re friends—nothing more. But it’s a small town. People see us, and they’re bound to talk, so I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

  Benjamin stopped and looked straight at Fletcher. “Henrietta could use a good friend.” He gripped Fletcher’s shoulder, then left him standing and staring, surprised and relieved.

  Benjamin walked up the short walk to the small clapboard house. It was just off the main street. Benjamin ducked under an elm branch. He should have done this long ago. In an odd way, seeing Fletcher had prompted him to get it over with today.

  The door opened.

  “Hello, Henrietta.”

  She was stunned, as he knew she would be.

  “I’m sorry—I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “It’s disturbing to see you,” she said softly, but frankly.

  They stood awkwardly.

  “I was hoping I might have a word.” He looked about uneasily.

  “Come in,” she said with forced hospitality.

  She gestured toward the parlor, but he shook his head. “I’ve only got a few minutes. Mrs. Dowling is waiting.”

  She nodded as though she understood.

  He choked back difficult emotions with a frown. “We haven’t talked since—”

  Henrietta interrupted, “I’m not ready to talk.”

  “I just wondered how you were.”

  “I appreciate your coming by, but I don’t think we can ever be friends.”

  Benjamin looked down, not surprised. “I was just hoping the hatred might subside.”

  Her eyes were so sad and honest, it pulled at his heart.

  “I know how he felt about me. I lost him before he ever went to the Yukon.”

  She was right, but he hated to see how it hurt her to say it.

  He touched her shoulder, then gently let go. “You never lost his friendship. The three of us have been friends since our first day of school. I miss the friendship we had.”

  She smiled, and the young girl’s face shone through the young woman’s.

  “I’ve missed it, too.” As he nodded, she flung herself into his arms. The sudden move took him off guard. He awkwardly returned her embrace.

  She clung for a moment too long until, gingerly, he pried her away.

  Her eyes glistened with uninvited affection.

  He shook his head. “Henrietta.”

  “He’s gone.” She shrugged helplessly.

  Benjamin swallowed his grief.

  She looked into his eyes. “I’ve got to let go.”

  Benjamin nodded. The ache rose to the surface. He could barely get out the words. “I’m sorry.”

  She put her arms about his neck. “I know.”

  She wept on his shoulder, and he held her until she had cried it all out. Her fingers lingered on his jaw as she looked up at him. He let go and stepped back. With a hand on his bicep,
she leaned up, he thought, to kiss his cheek. Her lips landed instead on his mouth. He pulled back and looked to the side.

  “Fletcher told me you’ve spent some time together.”

  “Fletcher? He’s a good friend. That’s all.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Her brow furrowed, but she forced a smile before Benjamin noticed.

  He said, “I’ve got to go now. I’ve got some things at the store to pick up, but I wanted to stop by and see how you were.”

  Benjamin had expected her grief for Daniel, but he saw something else in her eyes. He had loved one woman in Daniel’s life. Now the other one was leaning toward him with hope in her eyes. The thought of it sickened him.

  “It was good to see you again.”

  “You, too, Ben.” She leaned her head on the doorway and watched him walk away.

  Mrs. Dowling busied herself catching up on the gossip with the dry goods storeowner’s wife while she finished gathering sundries. Emma stared at the window display and admired a shirtwaist and skirt hanging there. When she got paid next week, she might be able to buy them—new clothes, at last. She had never really thought about paying for clothes. She just had them and got more when she wanted to. Now she worked hard to earn money for the simplest of clothes. And yet, she did not mind nearly as much as she might have expected. She had no regrets about her decision to leave. She was not attending parties or visiting people, so her needs were much simpler now. At the moment, she was pleased to have enough to buy a piece of penny candy.

  Mrs. Dowling had finished her shopping, but remained by the counter, still gabbing. Emma paid for a stick of penny candy, then admired a bolt of fabric.

  From behind her, toward the back of the shop, came a voice only vaguely familiar. “Miss Madding, is that you?”

  Before she could turn to see who it was, strong fingers wrapped around her arm and gripped tightly. “Darling, we’re late.”

  Emma opened her mouth to object, but looked up as Benjamin gripped her arm and leaned closer.

  “Don’t look back,” he said softly, with a nonchalant smile.

  Taking care to put himself in between them, he left the man gaping as he put his arm about Emma and whisked her away. Alarmed and confused, she looked to him for an answer, but something in Benjamin’s expression warned her not to argue. He swept her out of the store and on down the street.

  “Benjamin—”

  “Just keep walking. We’ll talk in the carriage.” Benjamin excused himself as he bumped shoulders with someone who passed by.

  She said, “I can hurry, but my feet still need to touch ground now and then.”

  He pulled a newspaper from under his arm. “Take a look at the front page.”

  Emma unfolded the paper enough to see her photograph on the front page: JUTE HEIRESS MISSING, FEARED KIDNAPPED. She folded it shut.

  “Just keep moving,” he said through a pasted on smile as he pressed the back of her waist with his right hand, and pulled her elbow along with his left. Two men sat on a bench outside the barbershop, reading the news.

  “Turn to look at me, Emma.”

  She did, and they passed by the men with her head turned away. They arrived at the livery stable, where he practically pushed her into the carriage.

  “Where the hell is Mrs. Dowling? Wait there. See if you can find a hat or something to cover your face.” He tossed the paper on the seat and went back to the shop for Mrs. Dowling.

  Emma turned the pages to cover her photo, and buried her nose in the newspaper. Benjamin found Mrs. Dowling with her friend, Mrs. Novak, busily prattling away. He turned on the charm and relieved Mrs. Dowling of several packages. “Please forgive me, Mrs. Novak, but we have an emergency stop to make on our way home. We’re late as it is. What a lovely bonnet you’re wearing! Good day.”

  Mrs. Dowling was too stunned to speak as he ushered her to the carriage. Once settled in the buggy, she pulled herself up to her most indignant posture and said, “Emergency stop? Benjamin Stark, what are you talking about?” She only reverted to using his full name when she was very upset and wished to remind him that she used to look after him when he was a child.

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Dowling. I must have gotten my days mixed up.” With that, they drove quickly through town and went home.

  Benjamin closed the study door and spoke quickly and softly to Emma. “No more trips into town.”

  “I’d assumed that.” She sat on the window seat, hugged her arms to her chest and stared out at the rippled surface of the lake water.

  “If anyone recognized you from the newspaper, someone could be here in a day or two.” He strode to the window and looked out at the lake, and he turned to stare at the books, his brows drawn together in thought for a moment. “Even if no one recognized you, it’s a small town. People know that you’re here. They could figure it out, or at least think that you could be the missing Jute Heiress.”

  “It would sound too absurd. I’ve thought through this. No one would expect me to choose to live like this.”

  He gave her a sharp look.

  “I mean working. They’d expect me to go abroad and hide out in a villa, not go to Lake Erie and work as a typewriter girl.”

  “And yet your father and fiancé had no trouble finding you here. Almost.”

  Benjamin sank into the Morris chair beside Emma. He stared at the wall as glimmers of thought crossed his expression like shadows. “What made me think you could go anywhere unnoticed?” He gazed at her warmly. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  “I dressed plainly.”

  Benjamin laughed. “You dressed plainly, so you thought no one would notice?”

  “You didn’t seem notice anything remarkable when you met me.”

  “Remind me to take up playing poker again. My God, Emma! I had to force myself not to stare.” He shook his head, as his amused look faded. “My love, you were noticed—by me and by all who have seen you since you left your home. That’s how they were able to track you here so easily. And that’s why they’ll be back.”

  “Then I have no choice but to leave.”

  “I’ll take you away—someplace remote. We’ll stay for a month—maybe two—or as long as it takes for this all to blow over.”

  Emma heard him, but thoughts of her own crowded her mind.

  Benjamin thought out loud. “Where could we go? Your face is in all the newspapers.” He tapped his fingers on his leg nervously, thinking and staring straight ahead. “No, we’ll have to hide you here. We’ve got to tell Mrs. Dowling—if she hasn’t figured it out already.”

  Benjamin took her hands in his. “I’ll build a false wall over one of the upstairs rooms, just in case they get a search warrant. Damn. People saw us together. Who was that man who saw you in the store? It doesn’t matter. I can tell them I dropped you at the station. No, that’s the same thing I told them before. Unless I say that you came back begging for work, and I turned you out—”

  “Benjamin, stop!” Emma was warmed by his fiercely determined expression. She quietly said, “It won’t work.”

  “We’ll make it work. We have no other choice, insisted.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “No, we don’t. But I do have a choice.”

  He saw the peace in her eyes, and knew the decision that had brought it. “No.”

  “Benjamin—”

  He sprang to his feet. “No. You’re not going back.” His taut face and tense muscles gave off masculine vigor as he took a few steps away, brushed his hand through his hair, and turned back to her. “No.”

  Emma fought her response. She loved how he strove to protect her, but she shook her head gently. She would not be dissuaded.

  He leaned both hands on either side of the wall behind her and looked fiercely into her eyes. “I won’t let you.”

  With a tender hand to his cheek, she said sweetly, “I don’t need you to let me.” She kissed his cheek.

  His lips found hers and he kissed her, setting free the yearning that late
ly lay close to the surface. He drew her into his arms until her body responded to his, and he put his lips on places that made her shiver, then he kissed her again until she sighed weakly. And then, with a smoldering look, he repeated himself with a hint of smug satisfaction, “I won’t let you.”

  Emma exhaled, and tried to calm her pounding pulse. “This is why I must go.”

  Too angry to speak, he forced himself to take a few calming breaths. His deep voice vibrated with rage. “I will not let you go back to another man’s waiting arms.”

  “I’m not going to him. I’m going home to my family.”

  He inhaled, but she put her fingers over his lips.

  “I’m going to break my engagement.”

  “If it were so easy, you’d have done it before.”

  “I’m stronger now.”

  Doubt clouded his face.

  “Before I came here, I didn’t dare speak up for myself.”

  Benjamin looked at her as though she were describing a stranger. “From your first day here, you had no trouble speaking your mind.”

  A smile came to her lips. “It was different with you. You made me want to speak up.”

  “I made you want to argue.”

  “I felt like I could.”

  “Wonderful,” he said wryly.

  In earnest, she said, “I always had something to say, but with you I could say it. And you listened to me.”

  “I’m listening now, but I’m not agreeing.”

  “I’m going back,” she said softly. For Emma, the matter was settled. She would go back and break off the engagement, and then she would choose what to do with her life. Until then, she could not make plans or think clearly about her future.

  The dark look on his face was persuasive. He shook his head, but they both knew her decision was made.

  Her eyes misted. “You’ve been so good to me.”

  He scoffed as if it were an insult. “Good?” His forceful gaze pierced her heart. “That’s not quite how I’d describe it.” He put his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her into a soulful kiss. He paused long enough to whisper with lips still touching hers, “How good am I now?” His kiss deepened. He combed his fingers into her hair and consumed her with his kiss until she trembled and leaned against him. His husky whisper resounded. “Come back and marry me, Emma.”