Brides of Ohio (45 page)

“I’m not sure there’s time, Mrs. Werner.”

“Now, now, I’m just going to re-pin a few of these ringlets. You fluff those curly bangs of yours.”

Anne did as she was told just as her uncle’s voice came from behind her door. “Anne, are you ready? Dr. Townshend’s carriage is here.”

She escaped from the housekeeper’s hands and rushed to the wardrobe to get her shoes. A small spider scrambled out as she did so, and she gasped then crushed it with one shoe.

“What is it, lass?” Mrs. Werner joined her by the wardrobe.

Anne stood with one hand across her chest, trying to still the quick leaps her heart was making. “Just a spider,” she murmured.

“A spider?” Mrs. Werner smiled. “I thought you’d seen worse than that.”

Anne’s face reddened slightly as she slipped on her shoes. Her fear of spiders was so silly. She’d grown up on a farm, for heaven’s sake. But she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been afraid of them. A small one like that didn’t affect her badly, but if it was a large one like the wolf spider she encountered in the library, fear refused to allow her to move an inch. She shuddered to think where that spider might have crawled if the janitor’s assistant hadn’t killed it. Her heart quickened once more as she thought of the man’s green eyes and the gentle firmness of his fingers squeezing hers. He’d been so kind and gallant.
Stop that. None of that for you
,
remember?

“Anne?” Her uncle’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs this time, and she quickly took her wrap and reticule from Mrs. Werner. She had every intention of explaining why she was late as her uncle hurried her out the door, when she saw a young man she didn’t recognize sitting in the carriage. She’d have to wait to talk to her uncle about Ben.

“Good evening, Patrick,” Uncle Daniel said as he helped Anne climb up. “I’m sorry we’re a little late.”

Anne settled into the rear seat and took in the young man who sat opposite her. He was handsome with blond hair and a mustache, and he wore a sack suit and bowler hat. Uncle Daniel settled in next to her. She looked at him expectantly.

“Ah yes, I forgot you two aren’t yet acquainted,” he said as the carriage lurched forward. “Mr. Howard, this is my niece, Miss Anne Kirby. Anne, Mr. Patrick Howard, one of Dr. Townshend’s students.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Howard.”

He tipped his hat and shot her a charming smile. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Kirby. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself tonight. The rest of us are looking forward to meeting you.”

Curious, Anne glanced at her uncle.

“Oh yes,” he said. “I forgot to mention there would be a few upperclassmen there as well.” His eyebrows rose along with the right corner of his mouth.

Anne bit the inside of her lip. Uncle Daniel had led her to believe the other dinner guests were limited to the faculty and their wives. Clearly, Pa had gotten him to promise more than just limiting her time in the stable. Her eyes slid back to Mr. Howard, and taking a deep breath, she smiled politely. “Are you a farmer, Mr. Howard?”

“My family owns a dairy farm near Lodi. I hope to become a veterinary surgeon.”

“Mr. Howard is a senior this year, Anne,” her uncle said. “He’ll be graduating at the top of his class.”

“Well, I hope to,” the young man replied humbly. “I understand your family lives in Ostrander, Miss Kirby.”

The three of them chatted the rest of the way to Professor Townshend’s home at the edge of the university’s grounds. As they pulled up, Anne looked at the cozy home with no small amount of trepidation. The evening would be difficult for her if the rest of the young men at the party were as nice as Patrick Howard. She thought coming to the university to work would be easier than this. She had only been here a week and she seemed to be surrounded by eligible men. If only she were an eligible young woman. As Mr. Howard helped her alight, he held the same hand the janitor’s assistant had grasped. The memory of his green eyes and gallant actions caused her to sigh.

“Are you all right, Miss Kirby?” Mr. Howard asked.

“Yes, of course.” She accepted the arm he offered.

At least there, she was safe. She couldn’t possibly see much of him in the future. Besides, he had to be much older than her, and married with about a dozen children. She couldn’t help but envy his wife. If he was half so gallant at home, she was a blessed woman.

It was an animated dinner. There were Dr. and Mrs. Townshend and their two daughters, Alice and Harriet; Professors Lazenby, Tuttle, and Orton, and their wives; and five male students, including Mr. Howard. It came as no small surprise when she found herself surrounded by them after dinner when the party retired to the parlor after they ate.

“So what do you think of The OSU?” one of them asked her. He had been introduced as George Smart, a philosophy major and editor-in-chief of
The Lantern
, the university paper.

“The
OSU?” she asked with a smile.

“Surely your uncle told you we are
The
Ohio State University.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure why.”

“The board of trustees decided that our original name, the Ohio Agricultural and Mechanical College, wasn’t a broad enough name for our institution. After all, more is taught here than agriculture and mechanical engineering. Calling us ‘The Ohio State University’ fulfills that idea and sets us apart from the other colleges in Ohio.”

“Be careful, Mr. Smart. Pride goeth before destruction…,” Anne warned.

“You think there’s something wrong in being proud of one’s university, Miss Kirby?” another young man asked. Anne couldn’t quite remember his name but recalled he was an arts major.

“No, but it doesn’t seem very Christian to look down on the other fine institutions Ohio has to offer,” she replied.

“You misunderstand me, Miss Kirby.” Mr. Smart smiled. “None of us look down on any of the other colleges here in Ohio or anywhere else.” The other students murmured in assent. “We just want The OSU to be one of the best educational institutions in the country. Mark my words, one day we will be.”

“I’ve heard the library is certainly getting us off on the right foot,” Mr. Howard said. “I understand the new location in the Main Building is much larger.”

“I didn’t have the opportunity to see the library in the old room, but the new one is quite impressive,” Anne replied.

“I’m sure your presence and hard work make it even more so.” Mr. Howard smiled broadly. “I’ll have to visit sometime very soon.”

“Yes, Pat, with the start of the new term, I’m sure we’ll all make time to visit—and often,” George added.

The men nodded, and it wasn’t lost on Anne that their library visits would be more than just educational in nature. She politely returned their smiles, all the while clenching her teeth, determined to politely rebuff them when the time came. She hated to have to do it. They were all very nice young men, but she wasn’t what they were looking for in a wife.

Anne excused herself and joined her uncle, who was talking with Professor Townshend. “I’m glad those two mares seem to be working out,” he said as she approached.

“Yes, they should foal next summer,” Dr. Townshend replied. He smiled broadly at her approach. “Well, Anne, how nice to see you.”

“Hello, Dr. Townshend.” The professor had been with the university since its inception and a great help to her brother when he had been one of its first agricultural students.

“How is your brother?” he asked.

“Jacob is doing very well. He speaks of you often.”

“I’m glad he and your father were able to attend the free lecture we gave last year.”

“They went on about it for days after they returned,” Anne replied. “If you’ll excuse me, but were you and my uncle talking about the two mares you brought to the farm to breed with Scioto a few months ago?”

“Yes, we were,” Uncle Daniel replied. He gave her a warning look, but she ignored it in her enthusiasm to find out about the mares’ condition.

“I would love to see them foal when the time comes,” she said eagerly.

“Really?” Anne turned to see Patrick Howard standing behind her, his eyebrows raised. “That can be a rather distressing sight, Miss Kirby.”

Seeing a way of getting rid of at least one potential suitor, she went on. “I don’t think I’d find it distressing in the least, Mr. Howard.”

“Oh, you don’t?”

Relief shot through her as the puzzled look on the young man’s face told her she had hit her mark. But it evaporated when her uncle looked reprovingly at her. Dr. Townshend quickly changed the subject and began to discuss the hopes he and Professor Lazenby had for the relatively new agricultural experiment station.

Later it wasn’t surprising when Patrick Howard excused himself from accompanying them on their short trip home. Her uncle remained quiet as they rode, and Anne didn’t pretend to not know why. She had no desire to talk about it. But the silence was stifling. Eventually she spoke just to clear it.

“I wonder if it will rain tonight,” she said.

“You didn’t ruin your chances with just him, you know.” It was hard to see his expression in the dark, but his quiet tone painted a clear picture. “Those other four young men room in the same boardinghouse.”

“I’m … I’m sorry, Uncle Daniel. It’s just—” Tears edged her voice. She regretted what she had done, but what else could she do?

Her uncle misread her sadness and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Anne. I ambushed you tonight. But your ma and pa and I, we want to see you settled. You must at least try.”

Anne dabbed at her eyes and turned the conversation around. She didn’t want to make a promise she couldn’t keep. “What about you, Uncle Daniel?”

“What about me?”

“You’ve been sad, too. Mrs. Werner told me about Mr. Ward.” He still held her hand, and she squeezed it. “I’m sorry. I know you miss Joseph.”

For several minutes, he said nothing, and only the crunch and hiss of the gravel under the carriage wheels and the clop of the horse’s feet echoed in the background.

“I had hoped he would stay,” Uncle Daniel said finally, his voice soft and distant. “It seemed like he wanted to. I don’t understand why he didn’t. It was like having him back again.”

Anne felt tears beginning to reassert themselves and quickly swallowed them. “But Joseph will be back for Christmas, won’t he? And Rebecca will be here with her husband?”

“What? Oh yes, I got a letter from each of them a few days ago. They’ll be home for Christmas.”

“There then, you’ll have them both back for a few days at least. That’s something we can both take comfort in and look forward to.”

Her uncle nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I guess it was a little foolish of me to pine away for the past.” He sounded a little more like himself. “We both must be about ‘forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.’”

She swallowed, her smile fading. “I’ll try.”

“As for me, having Scioto here now is a blessing and a comfort.”

The house and stable came into view. She didn’t like having to tell him about Ben now, but in light of what he just said, he needed to know. “I’m sorry I was late coming down. But I just had to slip out to see Scioto before I got dressed.”

Her uncle listened quietly as she told him about his horse’s condition, how she’d quickly brushed him down, and her concerns about Ben. By the time she finished, they stood on the front porch. From the light of the oil lamp shining through the parlor window, she could make out his stern expression.

“I promised your pa I would keep you from doing anything more than visiting Scioto,” he said quietly. “You promised him the same. How do you know Ben wasn’t out fetching something he needed? He could also have been out having his dinner.”

Anne lowered her gaze. Neither of those things had occurred to her. “I’m sorry, Uncle Daniel.”

“Let Ben take care of Scioto,” he said gently.

October, 1884

Peter walked toward the lecture room where chapel was held. The short faculty-led devotional took place every day in the Main Building at this time and was mandatory for every student. Ever since Mike had given him the task of sweeping up the room afterward, he managed to time the rest of his duties so he would arrive to catch all if not most of the service. He stood outside the door, of course. Although no one had ever discouraged him from doing so, he didn’t feel right sitting in on the services.

He could hear the student choir singing as he approached, indicating that they had only just started. Taking his usual spot next to the room’s double doors, he leaned himself and his broom against the wall, wondering which of the faculty would speak today. Whoever it was, he hoped they would read a passage from scripture. Many times one of the professors simply read from the writings of a renowned theologian, and once, a passage from Emerson had been read. But when a passage of the Bible was chosen, the comments afterward were always enlightening. There were still portions of the Bible that left Peter completely lost, and this was the only opportunity he had to have scripture explained to him. Mike kept close to the university on Sundays, and the day usually entailed them singing a hymn or two and reading from one of the Gospels.