The next day, New Year’s Day, was Mary Ellen’s 17th birthday. Aunt Grace had sent a note inviting the whole family to dinner for a small celebration. But that morning Mama said both Rose and the baby had the sniffles and she didn’t want to take them out in the cold.
“Papa can take you girls into town this afternoon. I’ll stay here with Rose and Grace.”
I wasn’t eager to go myself, remembering how stifled and uncomfortable I always felt in Aunt Grace’s house. But when I offered to stay at home instead of Mama, Mary Ellen begged me to go.
“It’s my birthday and I want you to come. Please!”
Mary Ellen looking forward to a birthday celebration was such a change in her—such a good change—that I gave in and said I’d go. It was another sign, like her enjoyment of the dance the night before, that she was getting better.
The sun was out and the snow crackled under the sled’s runners as we sped along behind Dolly. Papa stopped by the sheriff’s office, but nobody was around, so we continued on to Aunt Grace’s. Papa went in with us to explain why Mama and the little girls hadn’t come.
“I’ll head on home,” he said. “Ellen doesn’t much like being alone on the farm, and Jack is off somewhere with his buddies. I can come back tomorrow after chores, if it’s all right for the girls to stay overnight. They’ve brought a few things just in case.”
“Of course it’s all right. We’d love having them,” said Aunt Grace.
After Papa left, Mary Ellen went into the kitchen with Aunt Grace to make the birthday cake. Uncle Tony was sitting in the parlor with his nose buried in the newspaper. I remembered all the books in his study.
“Uncle Tony,” I said. “Would you mind if I went into your study and looked at some of your books?”
He looked up and smiled. “Go right ahead. And if you find anything interesting, you’re welcome to borrow it.”
I thanked him, thinking how kind he always was and how understanding. At least there was one person here whom I felt comfortable with.
I felt the same way about his study. It was a warm, welcoming room, with deep, red leather chairs, a big desk, and no heavy drapes to block out the sunlight that streamed through the windows. I drew one of the chairs over to the bookcases that lined one wall, and lost all track of time as I flipped pages and browsed through book after book. Books with soft leather covers, their titles lettered in gold; slim volumes of poetry; great heavy tomes of history and science; books of Greek mythology; and memoirs by famous people.
One whole shelf held English novels, and after running my finger across the titles, I found one written by a woman: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. I began reading, and after only a few sentences, I was totally absorbed in the story of Jane, a young orphan girl cruelly mistreated by the aunt and cousins with whom she lives. When I came to the scene where Jane finds the courage to stand up to her aunt and speak the truth, I wanted to stand up myself and cheer.
I had gotten that far in the story when Aunt Grace called that dinner was ready. The table was set with a white linen cloth and napkins, glowing candles, and a bowl of pink roses in the center. I wondered how much the flowers had cost. The nearest flower shop was in Lakeville, more than ten miles away. Uncle Tony must have gone to get them, or maybe the shop delivered. Mama loved fresh flowers on the table in the summer, but roses in the winter were unheard of. Mary Ellen’s cheeks turned as pink as the roses when she saw them.
“Oh, Aunt Grace,” she breathed. “They’re beautiful! Thank you.”
Betty had fixed a roast beef dinner, with mashed potatoes and gravy, and buttery baked squash. The beef was a rare treat, something we hardly ever had on the farm.
For dessert we had chocolate birthday cake and a fresh orange each, another thing we never had except at Aunt Grace’s.
As we peeled our oranges, Mary Ellen reminisced with Aunt Grace about their stay at the fancy hotel in Philadelphia, and about how exciting it had been to shop at Wanamaker’s Department Store. “I never saw so many dresses in one place,” Mary Ellen said. “Racks and racks of them! It was hard to choose.” She looked happy and relaxed, and was obviously enjoying the freedom from farm chores for a day.
When we had finished our last juicy wedges of orange, Aunt Grace brought out a small velvet case and handed it to Mary Ellen.
“Happy birthday, Mary Ellen,” she said, smiling.
Mary Ellen looked in surprise at Aunt Grace, then at Uncle Tony. “Go ahead, open it,” he said.
Mary Ellen caught her breath when she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on white satin, was a gold locket on a dainty chain. It glowed in the reflected candlelight like a bit of captured fire. Mary Ellen appeared speechless. She looked from one to the other of us until finally she found her voice.
“I don’t know how to thank you. It’s so beautiful. Much more than I deserve.”
She looked ready to cry.
“Nonsense!” replied Aunt Grace. “Of course you deserve it. It’s time you had a pretty piece of jewelry, so wear it and enjoy it. You’re only seventeen once.”
She fastened the locket around Mary Ellen’s neck, and Mary Ellen went over to the sideboard mirror to admire it. “Oh, I love it!” she said. “It makes even my plain shirtwaist look elegant.”
“Good!” said Aunt Grace. “And now, let’s go on into the parlor. I thought we could start some new paintings on velvet.”
I begged off from velvet painting and asked if I could go back to the study and read. Aunt Grace started to shake her head, but Uncle Tony said to let me go.
“I’m happy someone else loves books as much as I do,” he said.
I immersed myself once more in the sad story of young Jane, but absorbing as it was, I felt restless after a while. I hadn’t been outside in hours, and I needed some fresh air—maybe just a little stroll down to the river. I knew Aunt Grace probably wouldn’t approve if I asked, but I wouldn’t be gone long, I’d be back before anyone missed me.
I grabbed my heavy shawl from the coat rack in the hall, and quietly let myself out the front door. The air outside was cold and still, and I gulped refreshing breaths as I walked. My boots made a satisfying crunch underfoot, and down by the river, the moon cast a shining path across the water.
I could hear faint strains of music coming from the Yacht Club, which was bright with lights. I walked toward the sound, and as I got closer, I could see couples dancing through the lighted windows. The Club was usually closed in winter, but Aunt Grace had said that it opened every year for the New Year’s Day dance. She’d asked if Mary Ellen and I would like to go, but Mary Ellen had shaken her head and said no, she’d rather stay home with Aunt Grace and Uncle Tony. I knew she was remembering that that was where she’d first met Charles two summers ago. I chimed in that staying home was fine with me. If Aunt Grace was surprised by Mary Ellen’s response, she didn’t show it, merely shrugged her shoulders and said no more.
As I stood listening to the music, I heard a strangled cry. I froze, my heart pounding. It seemed to come from the back of the Club. I hesitated for a moment, wondering what to do. But there was no one else around to help, so I ran toward the sound. Behind the building, partially screened by some bushes, I could make out two figures on the ground.
“Let me go! Please! You’re hurting me,” a muffled voice cried between sobs.
I parted the bushes. The bright moonlight shone on a young man kneeling over a girl. He had one hand on her chest, pressing her down, and the other around her throat. Blood trickled down the side of her face. She was grabbing at his hands and squirming to get away.
In that instant, I saw my sister in Jim Pierce’s woods and imagined what it must have been like for her when she too was attacked.
“Help!” I shouted, as loud as I could. “Somebody help!” But I knew the music would drown out the sound of my voice.
I leaned over and grabbed the young man’s arm and pulled him off the girl. As he struggled to his feet, the moonlight shone full on his face and highlighted his blond hair.
“Charles?” I gasped. “Charles Anders!”
“Get out of here,” he muttered. “This is none of your business.”
He stepped toward me, his face full of rage. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but I was taking no chances. He was taller and older than I, but he was no match for a healthy farm girl like me.
I punched him in the belly with all my might, and he fell, clutching his middle and groaning. The girl scrambled to her feet, drawing her torn bodice together. Tears streaked her cheeks and she was shivering.
At that moment a car rattled into the driveway and pulled up in front of the Club. I screamed again for help and a man came running around the corner of the building. I recognized him as Mr. John Robinson, one of the few men in town who owned an automobile.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Charles was staggering to his feet, looking dazed. I pointed to him and said,
“He was holding this girl down and had his hand around her throat.” I felt suddenly out of breath, and my knees wobbled. “I know him,” I burst out. “His name is Charles Anders.”
“Charles Anders? I know your father, young man. What’s been happening here?”
“Nothing!” Charles straightened up. He looked defiant. “Just a little hugging and kissing is all.”
“That’s not true!” the girl cried out “He ripped my bodice and he hurt me, trying to force me to...to...he was trying to take advantage of me. He got so angry when I fought back, he tried to choke me.” She let out a sob. “I thought he was going to kill me.”
Mr. Robinson took Charles by the arm. “From the looks of this girl I’d say this was something more than a little hugging and kissing.”
He turned to the girl. “What’s your name, young lady? And what happened to your face?”
“Adele,” she answered. “I cut my cheek on one of the bushes when Charles pushed me down.”
Mr. Robinson frowned. “I’m going to send for the doctor to have a look at you. Why don’t you come inside to wait? We can find a place for you to lie down.”
“Oh no, please,” cried Adele. “I don’t want anyone in there to see me. I can wait out here. I’ll be all right.”
“Very well then. It won’t be long.” To me, he said, “Please stay with her until we can get the doctor here.”
He took Charles by the arm and began to march him toward the Club door. “Come along, young man. We’ll see what the sheriff has to say about this.”
Adele told me she was from New York, but was spending the holidays here in River Heights with her cousin. She was still trembling and trying to hold back her tears.
“How can I thank you?” she said, her voice shaking.
I picked up my shawl from where it had fallen on the ground, and wrapped it around the two of us. Now that I could get a good look at her, I realized how pretty she was, with curly brown hair, deep blue eyes—and red marks on her neck where Charles had grabbed her.
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m glad I came along. That Charles is a bad apple. You’re not the first girl he’s tried to take advantage of.”
“Well, thank goodness you came when you did. I hate to think what might have happened.” She swallowed back another sob. “He said he just wanted me to go outside with him for a few minutes so we could get some fresh air and get to know each other better, away from the others. But then, when we got outside, he pulled me around to the bushes and shoved me down onto the ground.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, releasing a small shower of pine needles.
Just like he did with Mary Ellen, I thought. Getting a girl alone and helpless so he could do whatever he liked. I wished he was still there so I could give him another good punch.
The sheriff and Dr. Simpson arrived at the same time. Mr. Robinson had already told them what happened, and when the sheriff saw the state Adele was in, he asked her to tell him about it in her own words. She repeated what she had said earlier, and when she had finished, the doctor said he would take her to his office and take care of her cheek. She waved at me before climbing into his carriage.
The sheriff turned to Charles. “Haven’t I had enough trouble with you lately? I’m fed up with your rowdy behavior, and now this. We’ll just go on down to the station and let you cool off in a cell.”
“You’ll be in big trouble when my father hears about this,” Charles threatened, but the sheriff paid no attention and clapped handcuffs on his wrists.
“Anna, I’ll need you to come to the station with me, as a witness,” he said. He hurried me into his carriage and pushed a furious Charles onto the front passenger seat.
“Good job, Anna,” the sheriff said, “stopping this fellow. But how did you happen to be here? Were you at the dance?”
“No, sir,” I answered. “My sister and I are staying with Aunt Grace and Uncle Tony tonight, and I came out for a walk. I just wanted to get a little fresh air.”
“In that case, we’d better let them know where you are before they start to worry.”
“Well, you see, Sheriff, they don’t know I went out. I didn’t tell them.” And am I ever going to be in trouble, I thought.
“Uh oh, I guess you’ll have some explaining to do,” He chuckled. “But they can’t get too mad at you. You’re a heroine now, after all.”
Charles let out a snort, but I ignored him. I knew I’d just done what anybody would do. But still, the sheriff’s words made me proud.
When we arrived at the station, the sheriff locked Charles up in a cell, then roused his deputy Tom, who had fallen asleep with his head on the desk.
“Wake up, Tom.” He shook the deputy’s shoulder. “I need you to go get Mr. Montgomery and bring him down to the station. Tell him his niece is here but she’s fine.”
Tom blinked sleepily, then stood up and stretched. “Sure thing, Sheriff. Be back in a jiffy.”
While we waited for Uncle Tony, Sheriff asked me some questions about what I’d seen, and wrote down my answers. “Hard to believe a boy from such a fine family could behave like that.” He shook his head.
He was pouring himself a cup of coffee from a battered pot on the stove when Uncle Tony knocked and came in. He looked concerned.
“Are you all right, Anna? What happened?”
When the sheriff and I had explained, Uncle Tony studied me with a stern expression. “I’m afraid Aunt Grace is going to be very upset with you. She’s not going to like it one bit that you went out without telling us. And as things turned out, you could have gotten in trouble, like the girl you rescued.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, Uncle Tony. I just wanted to clear my head after all that reading, and I was afraid Aunt Grace would say no if I asked.”
“As I’m sure she would have. Thank goodness you’re safe and sound, and that you got there in time to stop Charles. That might possibly help redeem you in Grace’s eyes.” His eyes held a smile.
The sheriff said if he had any more questions, he’d talk to me later. “I’ll drive the girls to the farm tomorrow,” he told Uncle Tony. “I have some business with Matt that I should have taken care of long ago. Tom can take you home now in the carriage.”
When we got back to the house, Aunt Grace was waiting. Before she could say anything, Uncle Tony described what had happened and my part in it. “It seems Anna is something of a heroine. She may have saved that girl’s life.”
“That may be, and thank goodness it ended that way.” Aunt Grace’s voice turned sharp. “But Anna, what were you thinking, to go off like that without a word? I should think you’d know better.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Grace. I know I should have asked first. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Well, I should hope not.” Her expression softened and her tone changed. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Your father says you have been the rock that everyone leaned on these past months.”
These were such unexpected words from Aunt Grace that I didn’t know what to say, but my heart warmed at hearing what Papa had said. I brushed a few tears away.
Mary Ellen had been listening, her face white and her expression a mix of emotions. I could guess what they were: fear at the thought that it could have been her, sympathy for Adele, grim satisfaction that Charles would finally be punished for what he’d done
Uncle Tony suggested we all get to bed. “We’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he said. “I, for one, am ready to turn in.”
Upstairs, in the big guest room bed, Mary Ellen and I were too keyed up to sleep. We lay there whispering about everything that had happened that night.
“You were so brave to go after Charles like that,” she said. “But weren’t you scared he’d attack you too?”
“I didn’t stop to think about it. I just grabbed him and got him off Adele. Anyway, he’s such a coward. He didn’t even try to fight back after I punched him, just lay there, whimpering like a baby.”
Even though it wasn’t really funny, we both giggled at the idea of the arrogant Charles in his fine clothes, lying helpless on the ground.
“Serves him right!” I said.
Mary Ellen squeezed my hand in reply.
“David is so different from Charles,” she whispered. “Smart and strong, but kind and gentle too. He would never force a girl to do something she didn’t want to do.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I really like him. And I think he likes me too.”
“It’s about time you noticed!” I said. “I’ve known all along he was sweet on you.”
“Oh, Anna!” Mary Ellen said. But I knew from the way she said it that she was smiling in the dark.