Free The Glassblower by Laurie Alice Eakes Page A

silly.” She pressed her hands against her warm cheeks. “It makes sense to me, but when I say it out loud, it sounds—childish.”
    “To me, Margaret, you are a child.”
    “I’m not, though. I’m an old maid nearly. You’ve said so yourself.”
    “Yes, well, just try to say it.”
    “I’d like to say it’s only because I don’t love him, which is true, but I know you and Momma didn’t love one another either and grew to over time.”
    “Marriages were arranged more often in those days than they are now.”
    Then why had he arranged hers?
    Meg tamped down the spirit of rebellion.
    “Go on.” Father’s face showed no expression. “If it’s not only that you don’t love him, what else is it?”
    “He’s not my choice.” Meg blurted out the words before she lost her courage.
    Father said nothing for several minutes, long minutes in which a log fell in the fireplace, sending a shower of sparks spiraling up the chimney and making her jump. Tedious minutes in which she had to clasp her hands together tightly enough to make her knuckles white to prevent herself from drumming her nails on the table.
    “And what sort of man would you choose?” Father asked abruptly.
    “I don’t know.” An image of emerald green eyes flashed through her mind, and she amended, “Joseph seems unfriendly.”
    Except for that kiss on her hand. That was too friendly.
    Although she had spoken little to Colin Grassick, Meg felt closer to him after those conversations than she did to Joseph, whom she’d known all her life. Colin spoke of things in his heart. Joseph spoke of—things. Things like his big house. Things like having a cook and a housekeeper.
    “He cares too much about his possessions.” She spoke on a wave of inspiration.
    “Ah.” Father gave her his half smile. “But all those possessions will allow you to carry on your charitable work. You can start a whole farm for wayward cats. And provide every child in the county with chapter books.”
    “If he lets me,” she muttered.
    “Hmm. Well, yes.” Father drummed his fingers on the table. He gazed toward the curtained windows for another minute then he turned to Meg and covered one of her hands with his. “I can’t go back on my word to Joseph about your marrying him. I made a promise to your mother, too, but I broke it. And now—Joseph has agreed to postpone the announcement of the wedding until after the New Year.”
    Meg’s eyes stung. Father had broken a promise to Momma? It seemed unbelievable.
    “And the wedding?”
    “That’s still in the spring. The twenty-eighth day of April.” Father’s lips flattened. “Don’t ask me to postpone that, too. Please, for my sake, this wedding must take place.”

seven
    The vacant windows of the schoolhouse seemed to glower at Colin as he passed, accusing him of shirking his promise to replace the glass. Given the opportunity, he would be back at the glasshouse working on the panes. But this Saturday afternoon Mr. Jordan insisted he take time off. The great furnaces needed to cool so the pits beneath the fire grates could be cleaned of ashes. So Colin took Thad’s offer of the use of his fishing equipment and headed for a pool in the creek the junior glassblower recommended was a fine place.
    “You catch them and my wife will cook them,” Thad offered.
    The pool lay just beyond the school, and Colin couldn’t stop himself from hoping Miss Jordan would find a reason to visit her building or go for a walk with her friend Sarah Thompson or call on any number of people along the road in his direction, including the church. She probably wouldn’t see him tucked amid the dense growth of trees along the water, but he would hear her coming. He found himself turning to peer through the branches every time he caught the sound of a foot scraping on the hard-packed earth of the lane. Fortunately for the sake of his line and pole, few people traversed the stretch of road in the middle of the afternoon, even on a