Hester Fox - The Widow Of Pale Harbour

“Why did Jasper say you needed a new position then?”

She gave a sigh, fiddling at her worn cuffs. “Because Jasper hates her,” she said simply. “But she’s been kind to me, very kind. I know what her reputation is in the town, and I don’t share their poor opinions of her.”

There was so much more Gabriel wanted to ask her, but he couldn’t very well endlessly interrogate the girl. “Well,” he said, “if you’re already employed then I don’t suppose you’ll want the job.”

“Oh, no,” she said, sitting up straighter, her face becoming animated and her eyes shining. “I can do both. I only go over to Castle Carver a few times a week, and aside from laundry days, I’m only there for a couple of hours. I can do both,” she repeated, as if trying to convince herself as much as she was Gabriel.

“Well, I’m not looking for much. I can manage my own breakfasts, but you would be responsible for preparing dinners. Maybe some dusting. What do you think?”

“I think that would suit very well,” she said, smiling eagerly.

A weight that Gabriel hadn’t realized had been pressing on his shoulders suddenly lifted. He need not be completely alone in his exile, and Fanny was a good-natured, cheerful girl who would help keep the melancholy at bay. “Good,” he said. “If you’re ready, you can start today. But first, maybe something to eat?”

He’d heard the gurgle of her stomach, seen her slightly abashed expression and recognized the signs of hunger from his own youth. He vaguely wondered what Jasper earned on the docks, and onto what kind of hard times their family had fallen.

Fanny followed him to the kitchen and sat on one of the rickety stools while Gabriel scrounged up some leftover bread and hard cheese. “All I have,” he said apologetically as he laid it on the tabletop.

But Fanny eagerly broke off a piece of the bread, piled the cheese on top and chewed contentedly. “It’s perfect.”

They sat in comfortable silence while Fanny devoured the little meal and Gabriel let his thoughts wander. He’d spent so long fortifying his mind and his heart, forcing himself not to think of Anna or the events of the past year, and inevitably failing miserably. But since meeting Mrs. Carver that afternoon, his thoughts kept turning to the gentle curve of her neck, the quickness of her smile, and her generosity and warmth to the likes of him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Fanny said, breaking the silence.

Gabriel realized he’d been staring at her as his thoughts ran away from him. “I’m sorry?”

She gave him a chastising look, a trace of hurt in her voice. “You’re wondering what someone like Mrs. Carver would want with someone like me.”

He hastened to deny it, but he was curious. Mrs. Carver was the wealthiest person in town, pariah or not. She need not associate with the likes of poor ministers or serving girls. “I’ve heard a lot about Mrs. Carver, and I’m curious,” he said, opting for honesty. “How did you meet her? Your brother couldn’t have been too happy when you accepted a position with her.”

Fanny shifted in her seat, her expression suddenly uncomfortable. “Jasper and me, we needed money. Castle Carver was the finest house in town, so I took it upon myself to inquire about a position there. Everyone warned me about her, but she was nothing but kind to me. Pays me well, and I go over not just on working days now, but other days too just to talk and keep her company.”

“All those rumors, though. Weren’t you afraid they might be true?”

She crossed her arms and looked affronted. “’Course not.”

“And what about the strange happenings around town?”

She surprised Gabriel by smiling, wide and slow. “Oh, I think it’s wonderful,” she said breathlessly.

“Wonderful?”

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like, coming from a big city like you do.”

Gabriel didn’t bother correcting her. Everyone here conflated Concord with Boston or envisioned it as a bustling city in its own right, neither of which was even remotely close to the truth.

“Pale Harbor is so poky and boring,” she continued. “Nothing ever happens here. Oh, it’s probably just some troublemaker, but you can’t imagine the thrill it gives us. It’s like a riddle, but no one understands the meaning. Or hidden treasure...things seem to be found in the most surprising of places. Jane Fisher’s sister found the strangest little doll stuffed into a tree.”

“I see.” Recalling the stories he’d heard from Lewis and the Marshalls, Gabriel doubted as to whether the rest of the town shared in Fanny’s enthusiasm. It seemed that everything that had been found had been hidden, secreted away out of sight: the remains left in an abandoned church, a doll hidden in a tree, skinned squirrels in the woods.

He rubbed at the two-day growth on his jaw, not wanting to speak of such things anymore. “So you knew Mr. Carver?”

If Fanny was caught by surprise by the change in subject, she didn’t let it show. Indeed, she seemed to be enjoying the gossip. “No, he died before I came on.”

“She’s so young to be a widow,” he murmured.

Fanny shrugged. “She’s better off without him, if you ask me. Anyway, when he was alive, they had a cook and a whole score of help. But when he died, Mrs. Carver sent them all away.”

“All except for Helen,” he said.

“That’s right. Helen is so kind to her. She takes good care of Mrs. Carver, even if she is a tough old thing.”

“I’m sure she’s lucky to have you both,” Gabriel said diplomatically. His curiosity about Mrs. Carver had already been piqued, but as he spoke with Fanny, it had flared into an insatiable hunger for answers. He had sat across from the elegant woman herself, listened to her proclaim her innocence in her silky-smooth voice. He couldn’t explain why, but he was desperate to see her again, to peel off the rumors surrounding her and discover the person underneath.

Fanny gave a little sigh, though whether of contentment or sorrow he couldn’t tell. “And Pale Harbor is lucky to have her.”

Sophronia rubbed at her throbbing temple, willing the impending headache to hold off just a little longer. She had been editing a submission all day, and the author’s penmanship was particularly atrocious, cramped and hard to read. She had only a handful more pages to get through, but they seemed to multiply every time she turned the page, the tight lines of text stretching on forever. As she closed her eyes to give them a respite, her thoughts turned to her unlikely visitor the other day.

The minister had not been what she was expecting, but she had liked him all the same. She had been prepared for a genial older man with kind eyes and a white beard. She had been prepared for polite conversation, tiptoeing around the lies and suspicions planted by the townspeople. What she had not been prepared for was the racing heart, the trembling hands and the sensation that she had known him all her life. And that’s what made it all the harder to have to look him in the face and refute all the horrible rumors about herself. What would the reserved man with the watchful hazel eyes think about her if he knew the truth?

Yet she could still hardly believe her luck. How she had prayed, watching that storm roll in, feeling the change that was coming to Pale Harbor. And here it was, packaged in a young minister—a little rough around the edges perhaps—but as fresh as sea-salt air.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Helen came in, bearing a tray with a steaming pot of tea. Sophronia glanced up over the top of her desk, watching as Helen set the tray on the table. Putting her pen down, Sophronia stretched her aching back and yawned deeply. “Is that for me?” she asked with a hopeful smile.