Page 14 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

I paused. I was still so new in the Dickinson household; I did not know what was acceptable and not acceptable in the eyes of the family. I imagined speaking to young men in any regard was unacceptable. “Their sister, Catherine, stopped me and asked about Henry. She wanted to know what happened. Her brothers poked their noses into the conversation.”

She nodded. “As impetuous young men often do. The fact they are twins makes it that much more unsettling. And, I know Catherine. We went a year together at Amherst Academy before her father moved her to a finishing school where she learned to be a proper wife and mother. I am happy to say my father never considered that fate for me.”

“She cared for my brother deeply. I believe that it was always her hope that the two of them would one day marry.”

“And what was Henry’s opinion of this?”

“He wasn’t interested. Marriage wasn’t something on his mind. He was only eighteen.”

She tilted her head to one side, reminding me of the chickadee I had seen on the bird feeder early that morning. “She is a wealthy young woman. Why wouldn’t he be thrilled to have a wife that comes with such a large dowry?”

I shook my head. “Henry, he was different from other young men. He craved adventure. Many times he talked about making a life for us out west.” I stared into the late-morning sun as if it could absolve me somehow. “I was afraid to go. I thought there were too many dangers, and I had heard too many stories of men who were lost or lost their fortune in the wilderness. I insisted that I stay here.” I took a breath. “I never once told him not to go, but I knew that he would never leave without me because of the vow we both made to our mother.”

“What vow was that?” Miss Dickinson asked in studied interest.

“That we would always take care of each other and look out for each other. That was our promise to her.” I took a shuddered breath. “Henry kept that promise to the very end. I was the one who failed.”

“You have not failed him yet.” She scratched Carlo’s head as she walked.

“What do you mean? He is dead, isn’t he?” I heard my voice rise. “I’m sorry. I haven’t the right to speak to you like that.”

“You’re grieving. In grief some of the worldly rules do not apply. Grief is like a deep pool.” Her gaze turned inward. “A deep pool. I can wade grief. Whole pools of it.” She shook her head and looked at me. “And so can you. You have before. Is that not true?”

I nodded. “Have you grieved?”

“Friends, yes. I have lost dear friends in my life, but I have not yet borne the loss that you have. I fear that day when it is to come. I hope I will be able to bear it.”

“You appear strong to me.” I snapped my mouth shut, afraid that I overstepped my place and said too much.

“Appearance is quite a powerful gift, but it is not always the full picture. When I wade through grief, it will not be in the way expected. It will be the way I can manage it,” she said. Then she clapped her hands and encouraged Carlo to run with her all the way back to the house.

Chapter Six

Willa,” Miss Dickinson said as she came into the sitting room one morning a few days later.

I jumped. I was in the process of washing the windows. A tedious chore because I knew that they must be perfect with no smears or streaks for Miss O’Brien to find. She was a particular and exacting housekeeper. I tried to concentrate on the task as much as I could. I knew I wasn’t doing as well as I normally would have. My thoughts kept traveling back to Henry. His smiling face, his grand plans, his youth that would always be. I was alone in the world now. Completely and utterly alone.

I dropped my rag into the bucket at my feet. “Yes, miss.”

“I would like it if you would accompany me on a walk to the village.”

Carlo stood at her side and seemed to smile at me. He was such a sweet dog even if he was built like a wild bear. I don’t know why I was nervous about meeting him on my first day in the Dickinson home. Well, perhaps that question answered itself. The dog was quite large.

I cleared my throat. “I would enjoy that very much, miss, but I’m not sure that Miss O’Brien would like it. She gave me a list of chores for the morning, and I know that she expects them all to be done before the noon meal.”

“I have already spoken with Margaret, and she has given you permission to go. Grab your cloak.” She left the room, effectively ending any debate. Not that I would argue much with her on that point. I was eager to leave the house and get some fresh air. A walk might just be what I needed to clear the thoughts that plagued my mind.

A little while later, I found Miss Dickinson and Carlo standing in the front of the house. She was staring up at the building as if in deep thought. I glanced back at what Miss Dickinson was looking at, and saw her younger sister Miss Lavinia staring at us from the upstairs window. When Miss Lavinia caught my eye, she moved out of view.

I had not spoken with the younger Miss Dickinson yet, and as much as I hoped we would be friendly because of our love of cats, she made no effort to speak to me.

Without a word, Miss Dickinson turned and made her way to the sidewalk. I hurried to follow behind her. Carlo was in front of her on a leash. She glanced over her shoulder. “Why are you back there? I told you that I wanted to go on a walk with you, not for you to walk behind me.”

I stepped around her and walked at her left side to block any mud that might hit her from the road by a passing cart. As I was much taller than she was, I had to measure my stride, cutting it in half to match her short yet quick steps. “It was very kind of you to ask me on a walk, miss. I have barely left the yard since I began working for your family. It is a lovely winter day. I do love the change of season. I don’t think I could live in the South where there is no snow at all.”

“I could never live anywhere else,” she mused. “I pray that I never will.”

“I suppose that will be up to your husband one day. He might want to move to a faraway place.”

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