July 7, 1893
Bettina’s knees trembled faster than a lady’s fan flickered on a blistering day. She knew her talk was well received. She’d answered every discussion question from the audience with aplomb, according to her father. He’d said it with his chest puffed out while Mama beamed on his arm. Yet her heart rat-a-tatted like the drummer in the John Philip Sousa concert Luke had taken her to last week. Had she impressed Reverend Doctor Kelsey enough to win the position at Oberlin?
First he shook hands with her father, congratulating him on raising a fine young scientist. Then he turned to her mother and praised her skills of turning out such a gracious child. Then, finally, he addressed Bettina.
“Young lady, you have a quick mind and very thorough research methods. You’ve worked hard to create a possible plan to help the masses.”
She brightened. He saw her vision, her—
“But I see a flaw in your theory.”
Her stomach hit her boots, and the blood in her body followed it. “A flaw?”
“You focus too much on the overview to bring about results because of the intensity of your passion to save the poor right now. Would you consider coming at your research from a more practical angle?”
Practical? Wasn’t that the entire basis of her theory? That it could be put to use for practical solutions? “Please, sir, where might I improve?”
His face relaxed into an inviting smile. “That’s exactly the question I wanted to hear. It shows me you’re open to criticism that will help you grow as a scientist and as you undertake this project long term.”
“But the flaw?”
“Your vision will give you the passion to keep working toward your goal. However …”
Flaw. However. She hung on his words, leaning in to understand.
“… I’d advise you to focus not en masse but on the exponential. Study the cause at its root, or we cannot repeat the result intentionally. Do you look over a field of wheat and say it grows because of the sun?” He pulled the boutonniere from his lapel. “If I dissect this flower and glean all I can from it, but I haven’t grown it and observed it in various situations, how can I say what I observed will be repeatable?” He replaced the button mum. “By starting with one, I can determine how and why it thrives best. Then, once I understand how it flourishes, I can expand to help it and others like it prosper. Understand the organism at its most elemental level and you’ll be able to build outward from there. Then, would you consider it wise to include observations from others? Consider those who work with the crops. What have they observed year after year? You have much work to do yet.”
His wisdom opened her eyes to the flaw. She didn’t have enough information to guarantee success yet. “Yes, I understand. Thank you, sir.”
“I came because your application stood out. Rarely do I see such high marks in overall laboratory work. I invite you to be part of my team because I see in you a person who desires to make the world a better place through your science, if you’ll temper your enthusiasm for immediacy and focus on causal research. Can you cap that passion and channel it into tedious work for the greater good?”
“Yes, yes, sir!”
“Good. Then we’ll see you this fall at Oberlin.”
She hadn’t even remembered to give him the reference letter!
“My darling girl, we couldn’t be more proud. But it’s for men to be so driven. Shouldn’t your education be enough?” Mama wanted grandchildren, specifically granddaughters. One surprise daughter hadn’t been enough with four boisterous sons. She hadn’t been part of Bettina’s early childhood to dress her and show her off. Two of those sons, Robert Jr. and Daniel, produced a passel of boys but not yet one girl. Of course, neither Bruce nor George would marry for another few years. “With what you know, your children will be well educated. Goodness, you’ll rule any garden club in the city. Change is made in the parlor, influencing people, not out in the fields. Imagine the lives you could influence.” Marion Gilbert swept her hands out as if gathering the grand downtown Chicago coffee house into her fold. Mama had a gift for gathering people to her and, once there, never letting them go. Her loyalty was renowned among those who knew her.
“Mama, botanists might belong to garden clubs, but they don’t plant pretty flowers for the hobby of it.” She covered her mother’s hand on the table. “Don’t you understand, I want to feed thousands of children through my science, not a few from my stove?”
Her mother slid back in her seat as if she’d been slapped. Tears glistened, though she blinked rapidly. “I suppose being a mother isn’t enough to contribute to society. I understand.”
How had her passions insulted her mother so deeply? “Mama, that’s not what I meant. Motherhood is truly God inspired. But I’m not ready for that yet.”
“You’re twenty-two. How long do you think you have to pass on those brilliant genetics, when you haven’t even married yet?”
“I think what your mother means is—”
“Robert, I know what I mean.” The tears gone, red spots on her cheeks flashed the signal a storm would let loose any second. Bettina’s adventure gene seemed a wild card to Mama.
“What if I could influence farmers with my discoveries? What if each person I educate could affect the lives of hundreds or thousands? Can’t you see how that would make daily life better for all mothers?” Bettina bowed her head. “What if what I achieve could have helped a mother”—her voice thickened—“who died like mine? Couldn’t that be enough?”
Ever the peacemaker, Papa stepped in. “Bettina, we understand how important it is to you to be involved in bettering society. We’ve never besmirched your beginnings, nor would we now. Your birth parents were hardworking, honorable people. It’s only natural you want to help those who weren’t as fortunate as yourself. Accept the position, if you wish—” He held up a hand to stay Mama’s objection. Then he looked at her as he finished. “At least it brings you home to Cleveland. We’ll talk more then about other future prospects.”
“There are plenty of important volunteer opportunities for married women right in Cleveland.”
Papa closed his eyes for a moment.
“Mama—”
“Bettina.” Her father’s raised eyebrows and stern tone stopped any further discussion. He snapped for the waiter. “The end of the summer, then we’ll talk in the privacy of our home.”
The six-block walk wouldn’t have been too difficult, but the July temperatures already rose steadily into the nineties by midmorning on clear days. With not much of a breeze off the lake, Bettina would be a puddle of perspiration before starting her shift to relieve the ladies for luncheon. With the heat and Mama’s worry for her safety in the city, ensconced in safe transportation rather than alone on the streets might appease her overly protective sensibilities. Right now Bettina did not need to challenge her mother further. She would keep using public transportation as she’d agreed when they rented the city town house for the summer.
Bettina boarded the World’s Fair omnibus, leaving her parents to a little Friday shopping. She chose the first empty seat toward the back door, hoping for a little draft of fresh air, and drew out her hand fan. Flicking her wrist, fanning away the scent of horse and human, the morning celebratory brunch with her parents had taken longer than she expected. They seemed bent on convincing her against going anywhere away from home. How could she help the children of Chicago or any other city if she never experienced the farms or understood the challenges of farmers outside the sprawl of buildings? Traveling the nearby countryside couldn’t be that outrageous as part of her position at Oberlin. Why couldn’t she have waited to share the details of the position until the summer ended?
Bettina waved out the side window to her parents as the carriage moved away from the curb. “I’ll be home before dark or I’ll send word and be sure I have an escort.” She called the reassurance to Mama, who waved back until she was out of sight. Knowing Mama, the discussion with Papa had just begun. Bettina leaned her head against the wooden wall. Only nine and she was exhausted.
The horses clipped along at a brisk pace toward the city-side entrance. A few blocks shy of their goal, one of the horses whinnied. The carriage lurched, sliding Bettina a few inches on her bench into the woman next to her. Another loud neighing at the sound of a crack and the carriage whipped forward as the nose crashed into the street. Bettina let out a screech, with the yells and screams of other passengers adding to the chaos, and then smacked headlong into the bench in front of her. As the horses’ high-pitched whinnies continued, the omnibus carriage wrenched forward, ripping. The back door flew wide as Bettina’s body slammed into it, then she tumbled over the steps, just missing the edges as they burst up toward her with the runaway draft team’s frantic thrust forward. She thudded to the street and rolled in a tangle of skirts, arms and legs flailing, as the brightly painted vehicle careened onto a corner, flopped onto its side, dragging for another twenty feet until someone caught the horses.
As Bettina pushed herself up to see, a crowd ran to help her.
“Where has she gone?” Luke wanted to congratulate her on a speech well done. To tell her Montana needed scientists like her. To tell her he needed her.
“I believe her parents took her to a restaurant just outside the grounds to celebrate. I don’t think she could eat a bite beforehand. For an early morning event, that was a large audience. Can you imagine a young thing like that speaking to fifteen hundred people? Brilliant girl, just brilliant!” Mrs. Fitch gave Luke a sympathetic look. “They’d never have found seating inside at breakfast, you know. Those lines don’t seem to go down no matter what time of day or night.”
Luke paced the pavilion floor in the Woman’s building. One thing Bettina was not—late. She had some sort of internal clockwork in her head he couldn’t explain. Worry gnawed in his gut the way mice worked a rope. He’d slipped away from the auditorium this morning so as not to disturb her discussion with Reverend Doctor Kelsey. Though he prayed for her as he left the building, he also prayed for God’s will. Luke hoped God’s will aligned more with his desire to marry Bettina than Bettina’s desire to work for the scientist. But he knew better than to superimpose his will over God’s. It didn’t hurt to let the Almighty know what he wanted though. And she’d planned to meet him at the booth.
“I’m sure she was simply detained discussing her talk’s success with her parents,” Mrs. Fitch soothed. “She was quite dazzling.”
“Yes, she was.” Quite, he brooded. “But I need to see her before I go. She doesn’t know.”
“You haven’t told her yet?”
“No, I didn’t want to cause her any stress before her presentation at the congress. She was as nervous as a puppy around fireworks this last week.”
“Mm.” Mrs. Fitch hummed an agreement as she rearranged the seating, putting chairs back into the inviting arc she preferred. “When do you leave?”
He picked up a chair and walked it over as she pointed out the spot to leave it. “In the morning. There just isn’t any choice left to me.”
“No, I suppose there isn’t.” She put a hand on his arm. Mrs. Fitch’s eyes told the story of years. Years of watching men build the frontier by scratching in the ground to create civilization. “I’ve learned in my time that things have a way of coming around for the better.”
“I hope you’re right, Mrs. Fitch. I hope you’re right.”
“Luke, don’t leave things hanging if you want one special bride.” She patted his arm. “Go find her and spend the day together before you get on the train.” She dug in her satchel. “I have Bettina’s schedule. You know she loves her schedule. No surprises for that girl. She’s written which restaurant she’d be at with her parents if her talk went well. Yes, here it is.” Handing it over, she suggested, “Pray about it. Let her know how you feel. Then let God direct her path.” She tipped her head and shrugged. “Maybe she’ll even go with you. But you won’t know unless you take the chance. And you, my boy, have nothing to lose.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Fitch.”
“Off with you now. Go get your girl.”
Luke grabbed for the thick leather harness. He bellowed a deep baritone, “Whoa, whoa there.” As the draft horse drew to a dancing stop, he gentled his voice to calm the team, fighting the adrenaline it’d taken to capture them and their runaway omnibus.
Passersby raced to help him rescue and then comfort the injured passengers. He lifted several women out of the sideways vehicle through the broken windows. He checked inside for any more unable to get out on their own and found it empty, jumbled with belongings. Then he spotted Bettina’s favorite purple ostrich plumed hat lying in the street!
“Bettina Gilbert!” He yelled through cupped hands down the city street the direction the horses had come. A splintered wheel, spokes poking up, lay in the center of the road. He sidestepped it, racing toward another circle of people as a man redirected other carriages to turn and go around the block before reaching 61st Street.
As he jogged closer, he glimpsed a dove-gray skirt between people’s legs. “Please, let me through. Let me through. I’m her friend.”
She lay on the ground, dirtied by the road but surprisingly in better condition than he’d expected. Hunkering down, he asked, “How badly hurt are you?”
She touched her elbow where a little tear showed a scrape. “A few bumps, but if you’ll help me up—”
Shuffling his arms under her knees and shoulders, Luke clasped her to his chest. “I was terrified.”
She gave a breathy laugh. “Me, too.”
Luke stood, and the gathered crowd let him through with a few pats on his shoulders as he carried Bettina to the sidewalk. He set her down on the curb and held her at arm’s length as he looked her up and down. “Are you sure you’re not badly injured?”
She looked up into his eyes, making him want to melt with relief. “I have a few bumps and a nice tidy headache. But the worst was I had the wind knocked out of me. Is anyone else hurt?”
“A few more than others. But they’re being taken care of now.”
“That’s good.” She leaned against his shoulder. “I think I should change clothes before going back to the booth.”
“Mrs. Fitch gave you the rest of the day off. I was coming to ask you to spend it with me. But it might be best to take you home to rest and have your father examine you.”
She sat up straight. “No! I’d prefer we keep this incident between us. If Mama caught wind that I’d been … oh, no, no, no.” She pushed against him. “I’ll go home, but only to freshen up and change.”
“All right.” He looked her over one more time. “Then I’d like to take you somewhere peaceful where we can have a quiet conversation.”
A starry smile spread across her lips. Lips he wanted to taste more than candied caramel corn or sparkling sodas or the world’s most enticing delicacy. Tonight, he would.
“Bettina, what I’m trying to say is I have to go home to Montana. Tomorrow morning. My train leaves at seven.” The same time she’d presented today. Could he see seven in the morning the same again?
“Why now? There’s still months left of the exposition.”
He sat with her on the island park bench. The craze of the carriage crash, crowds, and commotion of the fair across the canal. Surrounded by the peace of the Japanese lanterns glowing along the shaded path and the respite of Wooded Island, Luke took her hand in his. “Would you come with me?”
“Why can’t you stay?”
“It’s the silver. Since the government has replaced it with the gold standard, silver has been falling. Falling hard enough that I have to close one of my mines. Now the Reading Railroad has entered bankruptcy, steel has fallen. It’s a deluge of one thing after another. I have no choice but to close one of my mines and let men go.” His eyes blinked hard several times.
“Will you come back?”
“I don’t know.” His voice faltered. “I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to come back.”
She watched the way his thumb moved over her knuckles in soft brushes, and her heart broke for him. “What happens now?”
“I’ll try to relocate as many men as I can from the silver mine to the copper. With electricity coming on strong across the country, it’s possible the demand will remain. But there aren’t enough jobs in one mine to absorb all the men from another.” Luke ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m putting dozens and dozens of men out of work. Men who have families.”
His pain flooded her body. She finally understood the other side of the mining equation. The sense of responsibility he felt for people who relied on his jobs to survive. “I’m so sorry.”
“To look a man in the eye, while you know his fate yet he does not?” His face reddened while he rasped out, “That burden should belong to God only.”
She wanted to hold him. To tell him she loved him and would stand by him through this terrible time. And yet, as she ached for Luke and the painful decisions he must make that would affect so many lives, so many families, Bettina knew the heaviness of that burden well. Knew the burden of looking a man in the eye and telling him what would change his fate. She knew she had to tell Luke no.
She lifted her gaze to his, tears burning, and swayed into his arms like the cobra who’d danced to the flute. A cobra whose grace belied the bite to come. He lowered his mouth to hers. A kiss she wanted to lock in her heart forever. Her first kiss—and her last. There’d be no other for her. She knew that as much as she knew he’d come for a wife. Salty tears mingled at their lips. She dropped her arms from his warm, strong neck.
He lifted his head and searched her wet face. “You’re not coming then, are you?”
Bettina scrubbed a hand across her cheeks and looked away at the same green grass that she’d told Luke breathed life into the world. The same green grass she’d study to find out why it grew so fast almost anywhere while other plants didn’t. Green grass that tickled her nostrils with the scent of heaven after a rain. She kept her eyes glued on the green grass and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “How can I?”
“You can because you love me.”
“And I love my family.” She raised her face to his. “You don’t understand.” She stood and took a step backward.
“No.” Luke stood and reached out for her, but Bettina backed away again. “I don’t.”
“My parents never considered turning me out or giving me over to the state. Instead, they made me part of the family. My education, it’s all because they poured love into me. I need to use it, Luke.”
“If they love you, they want you to be happy.”
“But don’t you see? I can’t be happy if I bring them even a second of pain. All I am I owe to people who owed me nothing and yet gave me everything.” She leaned toward Luke, toward the life she wanted but couldn’t have. “I cannot now, or ever, hand them betrayal like that.”
He gathered her against him, tangled his fingers into her hair, and held her tight. “I love you.”
“Luke, I do love you. But since I can’t go with you, I—” Bettina swallowed back the lump in her throat that seemed to grow thorns, jabbing them into her. “I think you should take Janey with you.” Tears coursed down her face, wetting his shirtfront. “I need to know you’ll be happy. Then I’ll be happy, too, every time I think of you. Every day.” She disentangled herself and walked into the life she’d chosen.
“Bettina, please.”
She stopped, turned her head, and said with finality, “No.”