Read Online The Last Runaway by Tracy Chevalier - Free Book Online
Authors: Tracy Chevalier
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everyone is equal in God’s eyes, that means they’ll be equal in each other’s?”
Honor bowed her head.
Belle shrugged and took up her newspaper again. “Anyway, I like me a good hymn. Give me that over silence any day.” She began to hum, rocking in time to the simple, repetitive melody.
Later Belle had the neighbors’ boys bring down Honor’s trunk so that it was ready for Adam Cox’s arrival. After dinner they sat together in the shop to wait for him. Though the other shops were also closed, people strolled up and down, looking in the windows.
“Thankee for your help,” Belle said as they waited. “I’m caught up now. Won’t be so busy again till September when they bring me their winter bonnets to be retrimmed.”
“I am very grateful to thee for having me.”
Belle waved her hand. “Honey, it’s nothing. Funny, normally I don’t take to company, but you’re all right. You don’t talk too much, for one thing. Are all Quakers as quiet as you?”
“My sister was not quiet.” Honor gripped her hands so they would not tremble.
“Anyway,” Belle said after a pause, “you can come here any time. Next visit I’ll show you how to make hats. Now, I got somethin’ for you.” Belle went behind the counter and took down from a shelf the gray and yellow bonnet Honor had worked on the day before. “A new life needs a new bonnet. And this bonnet needs an adventure.” When Honor did not take it, Belle pushed it into her hands. “It’s the least I can do, as pay for all that work you did. And it’ll suit you. Go on and try it.”
Honor reluctantly took off her old bonnet. Though she liked the dove gray of the body of the bonnet, she didn’t think the yellow rim would suit her. Yet when she looked in the mirror on the wall of the shop, she was startled to discover Belle was right. The yellow brim was like a soft halo that lit up her face.
“There you go,” Belle remarked, satisfied. “You’ll go to Faithwell lookin’ smart, and maybe just a little more up-to-date. And here’s a bit of the yellow left over—not enough for a lining so it’s not much use to me. I know you quilters like your scraps.”
* * *
Though she accepted that it was a silly thought, Honor wondered at first if Adam Cox was so cold with her because he didn’t like the new bonnet.
When they heard a wagon approach from the north, Honor and Belle went out to the front of the shop to meet him, Honor’s stomach twisting. Though she dreaded having to go through the details of Grace’s death with him, to witness his grief and reignite her own, she was also looking forward to seeing a familiar face. When he drew up in front of the shop, slow and careful, she stepped forward eagerly, and was stopped short by his stiff gaze, as if he were far away and not engaged in what he was looking at. He could not seem to meet her eye. Nonetheless she said, “Adam, I am glad to see thee.”
Adam Cox climbed down from the wagon. Honor had always been surprised that Grace chose to marry him. A tall man with the sloped shoulders of a shopkeeper, whiskers along his jaw, sober clothes and a broad-brimmed hat, he nodded at her as he approached the porch, but did not embrace her as a family member would. He looked uncomfortable, and it was confirmed to Honor even before he’d said a word that this would be a difficult reunion. There was no tie of blood or love to bind them, only circumstances and the memory of Grace. She felt tears welling, and struggled to keep them under control.
“I am glad to see thee too, Honor,” Adam said. He did not sound glad.
“I thank thee for coming for me.” Honor’s voice emerged strangled.
Belle had been watching them, crossing her arms over her chest as she made up her mind about Adam Cox. But she was civil. “I’m real sorry about your intended’s death, sir,” she said. “God gives us a hard life, that’s for sure. You look after Honor, now. She’s had one hell of a time.”
Adam stared
Honor bowed her head.
Belle shrugged and took up her newspaper again. “Anyway, I like me a good hymn. Give me that over silence any day.” She began to hum, rocking in time to the simple, repetitive melody.
Later Belle had the neighbors’ boys bring down Honor’s trunk so that it was ready for Adam Cox’s arrival. After dinner they sat together in the shop to wait for him. Though the other shops were also closed, people strolled up and down, looking in the windows.
“Thankee for your help,” Belle said as they waited. “I’m caught up now. Won’t be so busy again till September when they bring me their winter bonnets to be retrimmed.”
“I am very grateful to thee for having me.”
Belle waved her hand. “Honey, it’s nothing. Funny, normally I don’t take to company, but you’re all right. You don’t talk too much, for one thing. Are all Quakers as quiet as you?”
“My sister was not quiet.” Honor gripped her hands so they would not tremble.
“Anyway,” Belle said after a pause, “you can come here any time. Next visit I’ll show you how to make hats. Now, I got somethin’ for you.” Belle went behind the counter and took down from a shelf the gray and yellow bonnet Honor had worked on the day before. “A new life needs a new bonnet. And this bonnet needs an adventure.” When Honor did not take it, Belle pushed it into her hands. “It’s the least I can do, as pay for all that work you did. And it’ll suit you. Go on and try it.”
Honor reluctantly took off her old bonnet. Though she liked the dove gray of the body of the bonnet, she didn’t think the yellow rim would suit her. Yet when she looked in the mirror on the wall of the shop, she was startled to discover Belle was right. The yellow brim was like a soft halo that lit up her face.
“There you go,” Belle remarked, satisfied. “You’ll go to Faithwell lookin’ smart, and maybe just a little more up-to-date. And here’s a bit of the yellow left over—not enough for a lining so it’s not much use to me. I know you quilters like your scraps.”
* * *
Though she accepted that it was a silly thought, Honor wondered at first if Adam Cox was so cold with her because he didn’t like the new bonnet.
When they heard a wagon approach from the north, Honor and Belle went out to the front of the shop to meet him, Honor’s stomach twisting. Though she dreaded having to go through the details of Grace’s death with him, to witness his grief and reignite her own, she was also looking forward to seeing a familiar face. When he drew up in front of the shop, slow and careful, she stepped forward eagerly, and was stopped short by his stiff gaze, as if he were far away and not engaged in what he was looking at. He could not seem to meet her eye. Nonetheless she said, “Adam, I am glad to see thee.”
Adam Cox climbed down from the wagon. Honor had always been surprised that Grace chose to marry him. A tall man with the sloped shoulders of a shopkeeper, whiskers along his jaw, sober clothes and a broad-brimmed hat, he nodded at her as he approached the porch, but did not embrace her as a family member would. He looked uncomfortable, and it was confirmed to Honor even before he’d said a word that this would be a difficult reunion. There was no tie of blood or love to bind them, only circumstances and the memory of Grace. She felt tears welling, and struggled to keep them under control.
“I am glad to see thee too, Honor,” Adam said. He did not sound glad.
“I thank thee for coming for me.” Honor’s voice emerged strangled.
Belle had been watching them, crossing her arms over her chest as she made up her mind about Adam Cox. But she was civil. “I’m real sorry about your intended’s death, sir,” she said. “God gives us a hard life, that’s for sure. You look after Honor, now. She’s had one hell of a time.”
Adam stared
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