If his confounded suit wasn’t so uncomfortable and he hadn’t been given the surprise about the automobile race, Eli might have noticed the new servant staring at him before now. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but not the pretty young woman across the room. His disappointment over Mrs. Walker’s choice of a lady’s maid had caused him to assume she would be an old curmudgeon—yet she was anything but. There was not a strand of her dark red hair out of place under her cap, her brown eyes were bright and curious, and her pert little nose was much too cute on her pretty face.
It made Eli all the more frustrated.
His sister Jessie had applied for the job and been qualified. It would have been the perfect solution to one of Eli’s problems. If Jessie worked at Basswood Hill, they would finally be together again, and he wouldn’t have to worry about her working as a domestic servant alone in Minneapolis. But Mrs. Walker had caused tongues to wag by choosing the least likely candidate—a young woman who had recently been a socialite but had fallen on hard times with her father’s untimely death—and here she stood staring at him. What did she know of being a lady’s maid?
“Mr. Alexander and I will hand-select our teams from among all our employees, even our house staff, after a tryout to be held next Saturday,” Mr. Walker said. “Except for the drivers. Since we assume Mr. Alexander will choose Eli as his driver, I must find someone else in the state who is qualified to beat Eli.”
A wave of chuckles filled the room.
“And to make the competition even more interesting,” Mr. Alexander said, “we will offer a significant cash prize to the winning team.”
A cash prize? Eli’s full attention was on his employer again.
“Each member of the winning team will walk away with a hundred dollars,” Mr. Alexander said.
Several of the servants gasped and Eli had to work hard to keep his own surprise from showing. A hundred dollars would buy all the necessary parts he needed to finish his automobile.
“We look forward to seeing all of you on the lower lawn at nine o’clock next Saturday morning,” Mr. Alexander said. “That will be all.”
“Please join Mrs. Cash in the kitchen,” Mrs. Walker added quickly. “She’s prepared refreshments for you to enjoy before you return to your duties.”
Eli followed the staff out of the parlor and down the main hall, but the last place he wanted to be was with the other staff—especially the new lady’s maid.
If he had a few minutes to himself, he’d rather be in the barn working on his automobile.
A large plate of cookies and a bowl of applesauce sat on the worktable in the middle of the large Walker kitchen. The room was filled with the delicious fragrance of cinnamon, making Eli’s stomach growl—but he couldn’t eat right now. Not with the thought of a hundred dollars still hanging in the air. Surely he could win the automobile race, even if Mr. Walker found a worthy opponent. But it wouldn’t depend on him solely. His whole team would have to win.
Conversation erupted in the room as the staff discussed the announcement. The women gathered around the worktable—all but the lady’s maid. She stood off to the side, her hands clasped in front of her slender waist as she watched the others with a reserved smile.
“If you ask me,” Pricilla said, “that meeting was a waste o’ my time. We all know there won’t be any women in those competitions.”
“And rightly so,” said Mrs. Cash with a decided nod. “Women don’t have any business in sporting activities.”
“Actually …” The lady’s maid spoke up. “The second Olympiad will include women for the first time next year.”
Everyone stopped speaking and looked at the new maid.
She tilted her chin up just a notch. “They will compete in tennis, sailing, croquet, equestrianism, and golf.”
“Well, I never.” Mrs. Cash crossed her arms under her ample bosom. “What woman in her right mind would want to parade about and compete in such a fashion?”
“A prideful woman, that’s who,” said Pricilla with a pointed glare.
“Or one who enjoys sports,” the lady’s maid offered. “It doesn’t seem so preposterous.”
“I doubt Mr. Walker and Mr. Alexander intend for any of us to enter the competition,” Mrs. Cash said. “So it doesn’t pay to discuss this further.”
The other women nodded in agreement.
“I’m not so sure.” The lady’s maid addressed the cook. “Why would they have called us together if they didn’t intend for us to compete?”
No one said anything for a moment and then Pricilla spoke up. “Do you plan to try out, then?”
The lady’s maid stared at Pricilla without flinching. “I may.”
Several eyebrows rose.
“And what does a young lass like you know about sports?” Mr. Yankton, the butler at the Alexander home, gave a pitiful shake of his head.
She lifted her chin even higher and Eli recognized the spark of determination in her eyes. It was the same way he felt when people questioned his dream to build automobiles.
“I know a great deal,” she said. “Growing up I played tennis, rode a bicycle, and spent hours shooting a bow and arrow with my father.”
Mr. Yankton patted her shoulder. “I’m sure you did, my dear, but I think you’ll have more fun cheering from the sidelines.”
She clamped her mouth closed and didn’t respond, though Eli suspected she had a lot more to say—and for some reason, he wanted to know what that would be. He admired a woman with a bit of pluck. They were few and far between.
Mr. Yankton turned back to Mr. Timmons, the butler from the Walker mansion, apparently done talking to the lady’s maid. “I could do a lot with an extra hundred dollars.”
“We all could.” Eli spoke the words before he even realized he had something to say.
The lady’s maid looked in his direction and he was surprised all over again by how direct and clear her gaze was. She studied him for a moment before approaching.
He stood straighter and tried to muster the frustration he’d felt earlier. She had stolen his sister’s job, hadn’t she?
“I’m Lucy Taylor.” She put out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
He paused for a moment, unsure how to proceed with this lady. He rarely interacted with the Walker staff, especially the women. He couldn’t afford any misunderstood relationships between them. But he couldn’t very well turn his back to her, either.
He took her hand in his and was surprised at the confidence in her handshake. “Elijah Boyer.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Boyer. You’re the automobile racer?”
It would be better to walk away, but something in her keen gaze made him want to stay. If nothing else, maybe he could find a crack in her facade and help Mrs. Walker see she had made a mistake. Jessie could be hired and Miss Taylor would be on her way.
“I am.”
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks took on a flush. “Are you familiar with Charles Duryea and the Chicago Times-Herald Race?”
“Of course.” Who wasn’t familiar with the first auto race in the United States? It had only been four short years ago, but it had sparked the imagination of people around the world—and been the very thing that interested Eli in motorized wagons to begin with. Yet, he’d never met a woman who had shown an interest.
“Do you race automobiles often, Mr. Boyer?”
“Not as often as I’d like.” He had not intended to familiarize himself with the new lady’s maid, yet he couldn’t make himself walk away. “I drive Mr. Alexander’s Duryea.”
“I’ve seen it around town,” she said with awe. “I’ve always longed for a ride.”
He couldn’t very well offer her a ride. What would his employer think? What would everyone else think? He couldn’t take any risks getting to know this young woman.
“I must return to my work,” he said.
“And I.” She smiled, revealing a lone dimple in her right cheek. “I look forward to seeing you compete at the picnic.”
Eli took his leave, but not before glancing at the peculiar woman one more time. For some reason, he looked forward to seeing her compete, too.
He wouldn’t mind seeing that dimple again, either.
The following Saturday, Lucy looked out the window of Mrs. Walker’s dressing room and stared at the lower lawn of Basswood Hill. The Mississippi River was hard to see through all the trees lining the property, but she could make out the sparkle of the water and the floating logs as they went downriver toward St. Paul.
“Lucy, have you seen my parasol?” Mrs. Walker entered the dressing room with her gloves in place and her hat secured to her dark-brown hair. She was a beautiful woman, both inside and out, and Lucy enjoyed serving her. It made her sudden drop in society less troublesome to bear.
“It’s right here.” Lucy picked up the parasol and handed it to her employer.
“Aren’t you coming to the tryouts? They will begin in less than half an hour.”
All week Lucy had planned to try out for archery, but as the days slipped by she had lost more and more of her courage. No doubt she’d be the only woman in the competitions and she’d probably embarrass herself. Any time she spoke about it around the Walker staff, she’d been ridiculed by Mrs. Cash and Pricilla. They had all but ostracized her from their company, and she had spent her spare time by herself.
“I don’t think I will.”
Mrs. Walker set the tip of the parasol on the ground and leaned onto the handle. “Why ever not? I heard you had contemplated trying out for the archery competition.”
Lucy bit her lip and turned to the dressing table.
“Just think what you could do with an extra hundred dollars.” Mrs. Walker smiled. “Maybe buy a few pretty dresses.”
If Lucy had a hundred dollars she wouldn’t fling it away on frivolity. She would give the money to her mama so her younger sister Margaret could have the surgery she needed. She’d broken both her legs when she fell out of a tree a couple of months before Papa died, and the doctor had not set the bones properly. Poor Margaret could not walk and was forced to spend her days in a chair. If she didn’t have the surgery in St. Paul, she would be crippled for the rest of her life. There was no extra cash to pay for such a procedure, not when there were six mouths to feed and little more than Lucy’s income.
“Do you think it would be unseemly for me to try out?” Lucy asked.
“It would be unseemly if you didn’t try.”
“Truly?”
Mrs. Walker put her hand on Lucy’s arm. “Go get ready and meet me downstairs in ten minutes. We’ll walk outside together.”
“Do you think Mr. Walker and Mr. Alexander will be upset if a female enters the tryouts?”
Mrs. Walker lifted her chin and took on a regal air. “If they do, they’ll have me to contend with.” She laughed. “Now run along.”
Lucy’s heart pumped with excitement as she raced up the servants’ stairs to the third floor where her little room was tucked under the charming eaves of the Walker mansion. It wasn’t much to speak of, but it was warm and clean and all hers.
She quickly removed her maid’s uniform and put on a serviceable calico gown she had brought from home. It wasn’t fancy and neither was it plain. It was perfect to wear for archery. Next, she grabbed her simple straw boater and pinned it snugly in place.
Mrs. Walker waited for Lucy in the main hall and together they left the mansion.
“I’ll be cheering the loudest for you.” Mrs. Walker squeezed Lucy’s hand. “You’ll show all those men what a woman can do.”
Lucy hoped and prayed Mrs. Walker was right—because if she wasn’t, then Lucy would embarrass both of them today.
Word had spread around the mill and throughout town that there would be a competition. Over a hundred people gathered on the lower lawn of the estate for the tryouts, including Mr. Boyer, who stood with a group of men.
As Lucy and Mrs. Walker approached, Mr. Boyer looked up and caught Lucy’s gaze.
Lucy dipped her head in greeting and he did the same.
She had noticed him several times throughout the week, though from what she could tell, he spent most of his time in the barn at the bottom of the hill. Once, she and Mrs. Walker were on a stroll around the estate and they had come across him working on an automobile. Lucy had been fascinated and he had answered all her questions with patience.
But today she didn’t have the luxury of thinking about pleasant things. Perspiration began to run down her back as she surveyed her competition. Men of all sizes and shapes stood around. Very few wore their coats, and most had their sleeves rolled up their muscular forearms. The air had a festive quality about it as people laughed and joked with one another.
Everyone seemed so confident.
Everyone but Lucy.
The Walker and Alexander mansions loomed on the hill behind everyone and suddenly Lucy longed to be back in her cozy fortress. Why had she agreed to do this thing?
“Gather round,” Mr. Walker said from where he stood on a box at the south end of the lawn.
Lucy closed her eyes for a brief moment and pictured Margaret. No matter how nervous she was, she would compete for her sister’s chance to walk again.
When all had congregated near Mr. Walker, he lifted his hands to silence them. “We will have two teams compete in eight events at the picnic. Anyone employed by Mr. Walker or me is eligible to try out for as many events as he’d like.” He looked around the crowd. “We will only choose the best of the best today, so show us what you’re made of.”
Lucy swallowed hard as she looked around at the dozens of men who were getting ready to compete. “How will I measure up? And what if I don’t qualify for the archery event?”
Mrs. Walker patted her arm. “I assume you have good aim.”
“I suppose.”
“Then try shooting, as well.”
“Shooting?” Lucy put her hand to her throat. “I’ve only shot a pistol half a dozen times.”
“That’s half a dozen more than some.”
Lucy groaned and Mrs. Walker laughed.
“What do you have to lose, Lucy? Give it a try.”
Mrs. Walker was right. How would she know if she didn’t try?
The sun shimmered through the branches of the basswood trees as Lucy walked up to the registration table and waited in line. Several men looked in her direction and some joked loud enough for her to hear.
“I see you’re still planning to compete.” Mr. Boyer appeared beside her.
“I am.”
“And what sport do you think you can win?”
Lucy took a step forward to stay in line. She was afraid she wouldn’t win at anything, but she couldn’t show him, or anyone else, her trepidation. “Archery and shooting.”
Mr. Boyer lifted his eyebrows. “Two sports?”
“What about you?” she asked quickly. “Do you plan to try out for anything besides auto racing?”
He stepped forward. “I hadn’t thought about it until now. But maybe I will, after all.”
Children ran around the lawn as women stood in small groups and conversed. Mrs. Walker had been joined by several women Lucy had been friends with since she was a child. It hurt that they would now look down upon her—but there was little she could do about her circumstances. God had chosen for her to be the oldest child in her family, so the responsibility to provide fell on her shoulders.
“Are you good at anything besides racing automobiles?” Lucy allowed her eyes to assess his physique. He was tall and well built. “Surely you could best any man here at wrestling.”
Mr. Boyer lifted one brow. “And what makes you think that?”
Lucy’s cheeks grew warm as she advanced in line. “Don’t all men wrestle?”
He shook his head.
The man in front of them moved away and Lucy found herself staring at Mr. Walker.
“Why, Lucy!” Mr. Walker smiled. “I didn’t know you planned to try out.”
“Do you have any objections, sir?”
Mr. Walker glanced at Mr. Alexander, who shrugged and shook his head.
“I don’t see why you can’t compete.” Mr. Walker put his pen to the paper and wrote Lucy’s name. “What sport would you like to try?”
“Archery and shooting.”
“Two events?”
Lucy nodded. “I’d thought I’d double my chances.”
Mr. Walker laughed and handed her two slips of paper. “Sounds reasonable to me. Give these to the referee for each event.”
Lucy curtsied and stepped aside for Mr. Boyer.
“And what about you, Boyer?” Mr. Walker folded his arms on the table. “Tennis and cycling, perhaps?”
“Put the man down for the auto race,” Mr. Alexander scowled. “He’s on my team.”
Mr. Walker gave his friend a sideways glance. “Of course he is.”
“I’ll also sign up for archery,” Mr. Boyer said.
It was Lucy’s turn to raise her eyebrows in surprise. “Are you any good?”
Mr. Boyer looked at her and grinned. “Now that I know you’re the competition, you’ll have to wait and see.”
“Just what I had hoped,” Mr. Alexander said. “Some friendly rivalry between the two houses.”
By the looks of Mr. Boyer’s satisfied smile, he would be a formidable competitor, though she had no desire for a rival.