So Aunt Mabel had taught her as much as she could about womanly arts like cooking and sewing, while Uncle David had taught her everything he knew about horses. Elizabeth would rather be working with her beloved horses than doing anything else.
“What are your plans for today?” her uncle asked as they left the stable, stepping into the early morning sun.
Pushing a stray curl out of her face, Elizabeth sighed as she waited for her uncle to close the stable door. They always did this sort of work at daybreak, so they wouldn’t be caught by surprise if company decided to drop by unexpectedly.
“I’m supposed to meet Sarah Raven and a few of the other girls at the fairgrounds later this morning.”
“Good!” her uncle said, grinning at her rolled eyes. “You should do something with girls your own age for a change.”
“I suppose,” she said grudgingly.
Truthfully, she liked spending time with Sarah. It was the other girls she wasn’t as fond of.
“Well, go and enjoy yourself,” her uncle said.
“I shall do my best.” She laughed and went into the house to get ready to meet her friends.
A few hours later Elizabeth Gates looked up from the quilt she was studying when she heard her name. She saw Sarah motioning her over to the group of simpering girls.
“We’re going to have our fortunes told! Do come,” she said. “I’m sure it will be fun!”
“I suppose I shall.”
She knew she’d have to do something sooner or later to convince her best friend that she was having a good time.
“Wonderful!”
Sarah smiled and led a reluctant Elizabeth by the hand over to the darkly-colored booth.
Elizabeth sighed audibly as she allowed herself to be tugged along. She simply was not in a festive mood. Her friend Sarah Raven had dragged her to the fairgrounds, saying she needed to socialize more, but Elizabeth didn’t agree. She would much prefer to be home, tending her garden or better yet, riding her stallion. She wasn’t interested in catching a young man’s eye, but that didn’t mean she went unnoticed by them.
Recently she’d begun receiving invitations for outings with young men. They asked if she’d go driving, or if they could walk her home from church, or come calling. She’d turned them all down without reservation, Sarah had told her all about the jealous looks she’d received from those who considered her competition, making Elizabeth laugh. As if she cared what anyone thought. Those simpering girls were welcome to all of the men, if they could figure out how to attract them.
It seemed that all her friends ever did was giggle about some stupid man. This one was so strong, and that one was so handsome. They didn’t impress Elizabeth one bit. She didn’t need a man because everything he could do, she could do just as well, if not better, thanks to her uncle’s teaching. Of course most people didn’t know that about her. For her aunt’s sake, most people considered Elizabeth a lady of the first degree. Most people were wrong.
The two girls had grown up together, and Sarah was one of the few people who knew about Elizabeth’s unladylike behavior. When they had been much younger, Elizabeth had persuaded her to try a few antics herself. Climbing into the hay mow, jumping onto the piles of newly mowed hay on the barn floor below. Discarding their skirts and abundance of petticoats in hot weather, swimming in the river in only their shifts. Lately, Sarah had been trying to get Elizabeth to act more ladylike even when they were alone, and Elizabeth resented it.
She watched as the other girls she had known since childhood entered the fortune teller’s tent one by one. Elizabeth tried not to roll her eyes when they burst out giggling about husbands and the amount of children they would someday have. Listening and smiling along with the rest, she didn’t take part in the discussions. Among the girls, Elizabeth was the only one who still outwardly professed not to care for men.
Since turning eighteen, she had begun having the strangest dreams, waking up with her bed sheets tangled around her body, her skin flushed, her breath rapid. A dark-haired man constantly invaded her dreams, but she could never see his face. Even now, thinking of the dreams, she felt her skin tingle.
Discreetly, Elizabeth began studying men, fascinated by their strong, hard bodies so unlike a woman’s. Almost a year ago she and Sarah had been out walking near the river when they had heard an unusual amount of splashing coming from that direction and had investigated.
Shocked to see the naked bodies of the field hands carousing in the water, the girls watched as the men washed after spending the hot summer day in the hayfield. Sarah and Elizabeth were captivated as one after another muscular male body frolicked in the cool river water, never suspecting they might be observed by two innocent girls.
Swearing never to reveal to a living soul what they had seen, both girls had been fascinated by the sight. Neither had ever been able to look at any of those men again without blushing. Thinking back, Elizabeth realized that it was soon after that event when her dreams had started. A scream of laughter broke through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.
Sarah walked toward her with a grin, her eyes twinkling, and Elizabeth knew her face must show how much she wished she was anywhere but her current location.
“It’s your turn,” she said with a nudge. “Find out if you’re ever going to marry, and see if you can get her to say to whom. She as good as told me I would marry Billy Adams.”
Elizabeth gave her a skeptical look. “Poor Billy,” she said dryly, and Sarah laughed.
“Go on Elizabeth. I, at least, want to know what she says,” Sarah urged. “Perhaps Mr. Carver should be encouraged after all.”
“If she suggests I marry that preening rooster, I’ll know she couldn’t possibly have second sight.”
At Sarah’s urging, Elizabeth reluctantly pushed aside the curtain serving as a door to the small, dark booth and plopped down in a rickety chair. She faced a wrinkled, old lady dressed in black with a brightly-colored scarf covering her hair. As Elizabeth put her money on the table, the old gypsy captured her gaze with glittering black and oddly-familiar eyes.
“You are very unhappy, aren’t you, child?” she asked, ignoring the money.
Her voice crackled with a strange accent, sending shivers up Elizabeth’s spine. Coming into the tent had been a bad idea.
“No.” She glanced at the door.
“You’re lying!” Her harsh voice startled Elizabeth. “You don’t yet realize this.”
Thanks to her doting aunt and uncle she was happy with her life and the freedom she had. Elizabeth never wanted to marry, certain that marriage would curtail her freedom.
“Are you saying that if I marry Jonas Carver I’ll be happy?” Elizabeth knew how these fortune tellers worked and would give her an ‘out.’ The faster she could leave this tent the better.
“Bah!” the woman spat into the rug-covered floor, shocking Elizabeth. “That man is naught to you.”
Nothing about this visit was going the way she’d envisioned, and she began to wonder
