Five Sisters (53 page)

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Authors: Leen Elle

BOOK: Five Sisters
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"No, no, not about that!
I know you'll think I'm lying when I say it but it has to be true! It just has to be!" she threw up her hands, as though defeated, "I'm in love with you, Nathaniel!"

 

Instead of smiling or looking even slightly elated, as one would expect him to after he's just been told that a lovely young girl fancied him, Nathaniel's eyebrows slanted inward and he looked positively indignant. Then, bringing his knees forward and resting his head upon them, he murmured bitterly, "Oh, for the love of God!"

 

But Gail, expecting this reaction, continued with fervor, "But it's true! It has to be!"

 

"I told you I hate liars, Gail!"

 

"No! Let me explain first, at least," said Gail, wringing her hands, "If I hadn't, in fact, fallen for you then why in the
world
would I have ever put up with you for this long? Why would I have sat by your bedside for the past few months when I could have easily joined the sailors or my sisters instead? Why would I have nearly died myself those last few days aboard the ship when you were so dreadfully ill and were taken away from me? Why would I have constantly worried, every moment of everyday, those next few weeks when we were parted? I could think of nothing else for I was so scared that you'd already died! And as soon as I heard you were in Wickensville I packed my bags and was on my way! I didn't even think on it a moment! Why would I have invited you to come to the here with me? Why would I have sat dutifully by your side when you
knew
I was yearning with all my heart to join the snowball fight yesterday? And, most importantly, the most unbelievable fact of it all, why in my right mind would I have ever put up with you, you contentious, rude, screaming . . . ," she stared at him, his face still buried in the blanket covering his knees and only his bed head, matted, light brown hair visible, and continued slowly, "Inconceivably evil . . . ungrateful . . . disbelieving . . . wicked invalid . . ." Gail's voice trailed and she bit her lip, unsure of where to continue. But she managed to say, with the air of a successful student who has just solved some difficult arithmetic, "So you see, Nathaniel, I
have
to be in love with you. Otherwise, there's no way I would still be talking to you nor would you be sitting in this room and . . ."

 

Nathaniel lifted his head to reveal eyes blazing with fury and spat, "You're lying! Have you ever considered that perhaps it's all just because we're friends? We could be friends and that would account for everything! You don't have to pretend you're in love with me just so that I'll stay here for the holidays and I won't feel so pitiful!"

 

"That's part of it, of course, because we
are
friends but I know what I'm saying and I know that I . . ."

 

"Don't say it again! I can't bear to hear you lying and . . ."

 

"I've told you a million times! I'm
not
lying!"

 

"How do you know? All the sudden, out of nowhere, you have this silly revelation that comes in nearly perfect timing as an extra reason why I shouldn't go back to Wickensville! It's ridiculous! You told me before that you would never lie to me!"

 

"But I . . ."

 

"And I know all about your childish fantasies about how your
life's
supposed to turn out and how I don't fit into them! You want to marry some smiling, athletic, attractive man and I don't fit one of those traits! Go ahead and say it! Go ahead and say that I don't fit into your plans!"

 

"You don't, but that doesn't mean . . ."

 

"There you go! So stop faking your silly little speech and admit that I'm nothing more than a . . ."

 

"No, you're not what I ever imagined my husband would be like or look like or act like! But that doesn't mean I could never fall for you! Perhaps I was just a naïve, idealistic little girl when I thought up what might life would end up like! You can never predict those sorts of things and I . . . Well," her voice dropped, "I was wrong."

 

"Oh, for Christ's sake!"
Nathaniel screamed, "Why do you have to make this so goddam sentimental?"

 

Gail shook her head but continued, "I was wrong because if I had to choose, of all the men in the world, who I should like to spend the rest of my life with, I'd choose you! Hell, you might even die a year after the wedding and I'd still choose you over everyone else!"

 

As she said it, she came close to his bed and slammed her hand down upon the mattress, her hair falling around her face.

 

Nathaniel, with an unbelievable quickness, just as her fingers were leaving the bed, grabbed her around the wrist. And just as he had before, he pulled her onto the bed beside him. But this time, he wasn't going to let her get away. He held her face in both his pale, bony hands; his eyes sparkling.

 

He murmured, his voice still cold, "You're a fool, Gail St. James."

 

Forcibly, almost angrily, he pulled her face towards him as he leaned forward and their lips met. One could scarcely describe how different this kiss could be from the sweet, soft one Brook had given Emy the week before. Although Nathaniel was weak, in that moment his strength all returned to him as he held Gail close and planted his lips upon her in such a way that she feared they may leave her bruised. But she wouldn't have it any other way. This was the way she'd longed to be kissed, the way she needed to be kissed. It left her head spinning and her fingers trembling and her heart beating like mad.

 

"You're a fool, Gail St. James," Nathaniel repeated, "But I love you anyway."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
CHAPTER 39
 
Great Expectations
 

 

 

With only a week left until Christmas, all eight young people occupying the Lindsey's home, including, surprisingly, a certain invalid, headed to town for some last minute shopping.

 

Soft snowflakes were drifting from the sky as the two carriages entered the busy, harbor town. As they headed into the center of the city, one could see redbrick buildings adorned with wreaths, flickering candles resting on the window ledges, and merry shoppers carrying bags full of gifts. Little children, with their noses pressed against the store windows, gazed inside with eyes full of wonder at shiny rocking horses, toy trains, and beautiful china dolls. Not wanting to leave the wonderful toys, the children would soon have to be dragged away by their parents and headed back down the street with their eyes aglow, dreaming of what would sit under their tree on Christmas morning.

 

As soon as the two carriages stopped, the four oldest girls stepped out quickly, followed by Gail, dragging out the wheelchair, and finally Ethan and Brook emerged carrying Nathaniel and set him down gently in the chair.

 

"Shall we split up then?" asked Mary. Although she wore a furry white cap, several raven black curls had fallen out to frame her delicate face in a most becoming fashion. She brushed one away with a sly smile directed toward Ethan, "For although you know I'd love to shop with you today, dearest, I can't possibly or you shall see your present!"

 

"Of course," he nodded, "But who shall I walk with then?"

 

"I'll join you," Brook quickly volunteered. He glanced to Emy, feeling guilty for leaving her, but then his eyes alit and he offered, "But perhaps we should all join up for something to eat in a few hours."

 

Emy agreed, though blushing, "That sounds like a lovely idea."

 

"Does three o'clock sound good?" Mary asked. She pointed to a café across the street, "We could meet just there, if you like."

 

There were motions of agreement across the group and the suggestion was affirmed.

 

"Well, Nathaniel and I will be off then," said Gail, stepping behind his wheelchair and pushing him off, though it was rather more difficult in several inches of snow, "We'll see you all later!"

 

Ethan gave Mary a swift kiss on the cheek, "I'll see you in a few hours, my love." And then he and Brook walked off in the opposite direction.

 

Mary offered her arm to Sara, "Shall we?" And the two sisters strolled towards down the lane towards a little fabric store, leaving Nora and Emy, who quickly scurried off and entered a candy shop just down the way.

 

*****

 

Ethan held up a beaded bracelet, "Do you think she'd like this?" He rummaged through a basket and produced a simple, yet elegant necklace, "Or is this better?"

Brook shrugged, "How should I know? I'm not a woman."

 

The two men had already searched through near five shops already and still both were clueless as to what Ethan should purchase for Mary. Gift-giving is always difficult, especially when it concerns a member of the opposite sex. Although both Ethan and Brook
were
quite certain any sort of jewelry, trinket, perfume, hair ribbon, or any other feminine item would be sure to please their receivers, they still could not decide which would be best. Brook had already decided he would make Emy a little art kit- with pencils, brushes, paints, and parchment- and would paint her a small picture of the countryside in winter, for she seemed to like it so immensely. But Ethan was having far more difficulty, finding it even more intimidating than he had in the past now that he and Mary were betrothed. As a fiancé, he felt it was expected that he ought to know his soon-to-be bride well enough to find her the perfect gift, but now his anxiety was mounting as he could find nothing that was particularly special; and he would buy nothing but the best for his Mary.

 

Ethan set down both the bracelet and necklace with a sigh and headed towards the opposite side of the shop with his head held low. Brook looked up and shook his head.

 

"Why not one of those?" he asked, desperate to end this ongoing search; for how often do you find men fond of shopping?

 

"They just . . . They just weren't right . . . I don't know how to explain it," said Ethan, now looking through the scarves, "She wouldn't have liked them."

 

"Sure she would have! Sure!" Brook brought the jewelry basket over to Ethan and began sifting through it, holding up various pieces, "Look at all this! There's a beautiful pair of earrings or a jeweled bracelet . . ."

 

"It's not in her taste."

 

"Here's a lovely bracelet or . . . Or how about this? What a pretty brooch! I'm sure she'll love it," he held it to his chest, "Really, Ethan! I don't know why you're getting so worked up over this. It's only a Christmas present. I'm sure she'd like anything here. Women love just about any sort of sparkly thing you set in front of them! And besides, they're always saying it's the thought that counts! And I'm sure that no matter what you decide on Mary will know you had your best intentions behind it."

 

"Yes, but I don't want only the meaning to count. I want the gift to count too. I ought to be able to find her the perfect gift. She's going to be my wife, after all. I ought to know her better than anybody."

 

"No man truly knows what a woman will like. You just have to guess and hope it's alright."

 

"Well what about you, with your 'perfect little art set' for Emy?"

 

"It's not perfect."

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