Page 65 of Beyond Montana's Sky
“Elizabeth has sent a photograph and numerous sketches. I’m lucky to have a sister who’s artistic.”
“Mr. Hamilton, if I might be so bold?” Edith tilted her head in inquiry. “Why don’t you visit Sweetwater Springs? I can assure you that you’d be warmly welcomed.”
A troubled expression crossed his face. “My dear wife isn’t up to such a long journey, so she’s informed me on several occasions.”
Edith and Sylvia exchanged looks that said exactly what they thought of Eugenia Hamilton.
“I wouldn’t want to leave her and our small son for so many weeks.” His expression brightened. “My dear Eugenia doesn’t want her condition known. She’s not yet ready to excuse herself from social activities. But she isenceinte. I’m hoping for a daughter.”
Envy made Edith’s stomach clench.I want a daughter, too.She took a deep breath to fight the feeling. “Well, then, let me tell you more about Carol. I declare, that child rarely has to walk, because her father carries her everywhere perched on his shoulders. She even pulls his hair, as if she’s directing a horse. I predict Carol will become quite the equestrienne someday.”
Laurence chuckled.
Edith searched her mind for more tidbits about the Sanders family and relayed them to her appreciative audience.
The impatient tap of footsteps heralded Eugenia Hamilton’s arrival. She swished into the room with a peevish expression. “My dear Laurence, whatever are you doing in here?” Without waiting for an answer, she chided, “You’re neglecting our guests. Why, Mrs. Jones was just asking about you.”
Her husband raised his eyebrows. “I’m hardly neglecting our guests when I’m conversing with two of them,” he said in a mild tone. Nevertheless, he rose and smiled at Edith. “Thank you for telling me about Elizabeth and her family.” He touched his chest. “You’ve done my heart good.”
Mrs. Hamilton threaded a hand around her husband’s arm and gave Edith and Sylvia an obviously fake smile. “Come along, dearest.” She tugged.
He obediently followed.
Edith and Sylvia waited for the sound of footsteps to fade away.
Frowning, Sylvia exhaled a sharp breath. “I cannot forgive that woman for driving Elizabeth from Boston, nor for the way she manipulates her husband. I mean, weallmanipulate our husbands, but hopefully we do so with moretact.”
“And kindness. Perhaps, Eugenia Hamilton was God’s instrument in working for Elizabeth’s higher purpose.”
“Goodness, Edith.” Sylvia’s eyes widened. “From Elizabeth and Pamela’s letters, I had no idea you were so…spiritual.”
“I didn’t either.” Edith pursed her lips, thinking. “Sweetwater Springs has the most wonderful minister; actually, two, now that his son has returned from missionary work in Africa. The church building is small, so the sermons seem more intimate. There’s something about your minister looking you in the face that makes you pay attention…. I guess I’ve absorbed more of his preaching than I knew.”
“Reverend Norton, isn’t that his name? Elizabeth and Pamela have written of him.”
Edith leaned to pat Sylvia’s hand. “I’ve so enjoyed discussing our mutual friends. Now, however, we’d better go back before your husband needs to track you down.”
They rose and moved out of the parlor and across the entryway to the drawing room.
Sylvia cast a sideways glance at Edith. “I’d like to further our acquaintance. Since Pamela and Elizabeth left, I haven’t found many women I feel drawn to.”
Something tight in Edith’s chest loosened. “I’d like that, indeed.”
In the drawing room, they parted with warm smiles. Sylvia stopped to talk, and Edith continued into the ballroom, where the orchestra was in the midst of playing Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake Waltz.” Memories of the dance with Cai threatened to overwhelm her, and, blinking away sudden tears, she pivoted to leave.
Before Edith took two steps, her favorite second cousin, Phillip Cannon, took her hand and tucked her fingers around his arm. Three years younger than Edith, he’d inherited the Livingston looks from his mother. “Please save me, Cousin Edith. Mama has decided her baby boy can no longer remain unwed. She’s throwing demure debutantes at me by the dozens.”
“Such alliteration,” Edith teased. “Surely, Cousin Carolina knows better.” She squeezed his arm. “Demure was never your style.”
Phillip threw back his head and laughed. “If only I could find a woman like you—one with intelligence and humor.”
Edith couldn’t resist. “You forgot beauty and wealth.”
“Those qualities are a given.” He waggled his eyebrows. “What do you say, Cousin Edith? Shall we do the honors?”
“We shall not,” she said with mock tartness. “If you thought I’d accept, you never would have offered in the first place. Instead, you’d have run like the wind for the hills.”
“Alas, the hills around here wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to stow away on the next available ship. I’d need the wind to fill the sails to reach the other side of the world.”
