Page 49 of Calling on the Matchmaker
“Not much longer now.” The temperatures had dipped below freezing over the past week, and the wind was bitter so that the usual mud was hard, allowing the gig to clip along at a decent pace.
Everyone was hoping the drop in temperatures and the cold winds would drive the foul air from St. Louis and carry away the cholera. But it seemed every day they got word of more families contracting the disease.
In fact, when Riley had swung by his family’s tenement earlier, his dad suggested the possibility of leaving the city limits and heading out to the country. Eleanor had a brother who lived on a farm, and he’d offered to have them come stay with him until the threat of cholera had passed. Riley had encouraged them to go, even though his dad was improving and gaining strength with every passing day.
Shanahan had talked of sending his family out of the city too. But the disease hadn’t spread into the wealthier districts. Of course, Shanahan had heard no word from Enya. He was still searching for his wayward daughter, but so far, every clue had led to a dead end.
As Riley turned the corner onto Lafayette Avenue on the outskirts of town, Finola sat forward, her gloved hands gripping the seat near his thigh under the heavy woolen blanket spread across her lap and across the foot warmer he’d situated by her boots.
He wanted to reach down and hold her hand. Did he dare slip his arm around her and pull her into the crook of his body?
He’d put off any blatant advances, not wanting to scare her. He’d been patient, giving her the chance to become comfortable with him, giving them both the opportunity to get to know one another. But maybe it was time to stop being so cautious now that she didn’t seem to be fighting against the match anymore.
As the park came into view ahead, he slowed the gig. The assortment of maples, locusts, birch, and other trees were gray and bare, but he could pretend they weren’t still in the busy, dirty city and were instead in an oasis, where the appetite of progress hadn’t yet devoured the natural beauty.
He maneuvered the gig into the line of other parked vehicles. Then he motioned toward several lads, and one of them bounded over, eager to earn a few pennies for tending to the horse and watching over the gig.
A moment later, Riley was leading Finola along a path to the pond, a bag slung over his shoulder. As the trees thinned and the frozen water came into view, she halted and her eyes brightened. “Ice-skating?”
“After working hard all week, we deserve an afternoon of fun, don’t we?” He stood beside her, watching her take in the dozen or more skaters sliding around on the ice.
Her breath came out frozen and white, and for the first time since he’d met her, she gave him a full smile.
His heart nearly stopped beating at the sight of it. He wanted to forget all about ice-skating and stare at her the rest of the afternoon. But she didn’t give him the chance. She grabbed his arm and hurried him to the edge of the pond.
At her excitement, he was relieved Zaira had been honest with him when he’d asked her to tell him some of Finola’s favorite activities. He could admit he’d been worried that Zaira might be working for Finola the same as Madigan to provide Riley with a false list.
It didn’t take long for them to put on the skates he’d tucked away in the bag, and soon they were racing around the pond, dodging other couples as well as children eager to take advantage of the frozen waterway.
Finola’s cheeks and nose quickly turned rosy. Her eyes sparkled, and she was more animated than he’d ever seen her, as if she’d left behind a burden on the shore and was floating free.
“I haven’t been ice-skating yet this winter.” She shuffled along expertly beside him.
He wasn’t half bad himself, although he hadn’t put on skates in a long time. Not since Helen.
“And mostly we skate at places closer to home,” she continued. “I think I’ve only been out here a time or two when I was very young.”
“It doesn’t freeze quite as well as the smaller ponds.” Ahead, the deeper western part was blocked off with several posts and signs that saidKeep Off.
She’d tossed back her hood, and the soft afternoon light fell across her hair, bringing the red strands to life. The hint of her smile still lingered, especially in her eyes.
“You should smile more often.” He’d slowed his speed to match hers.
Her expression turned grave once again, and she peered ahead with a somberness and seriousness he’d noted often in her countenance since meeting her.
What had happened to bring her sorrow? There was still so much about her he wanted to know. “Will you tell me why you so rarely smile?”
She picked up her pace, moving ahead of him.
Before she could get too far, he reached for her hand, only intending to keep her from getting away. But as soon as his gloved hand wrapped around her mittened one, he tightened the hold, deciding he didn’t want to let go.
She attempted to tug her hand free, but he gripped her more firmly and pressed his shoulder against hers.
“Let me guess,” he said, as unwilling to let the topic go as he was her hand. “You were jilted by your first love, and ever since, you’ve resented men.”
She released a scoffing sound. “Of course not.”
“Then you haven’t ever been in love?” He held his breath as he waited for her answer, not quite sure why he cared.
