Her eyes grew wide. Her mouth went dry. “Father?”
This man lowering himself into the chair opposite her could not be her father. Three deep scars ran down the right side of his face, one of them tugging his mouth upward. It almost looked like he was smiling. Another scar ran from the side of his nose and cheek in a jagged pattern. It dipped down the left side of his jaw and disappeared behind his ear.
Tears pooled in her eyes. No. This could not be Father! He was handsome. His eyes were kind and warm, not distant and cross like this man’s.
Martha shifted in her chair and looked up at Mother. Couldn’t she see it wasn’t the right man?
“Go greet your father.”
Mother’s tone was firm.
Martha knew better than to argue.
She stood and shuffled over to the chair. Her teeth pressed into the side of her cheek. The scars were even worse close up, but she would get a scolding if she was not polite. “Hello, Father.”
His dark eyes focused on her, and Martha dropped her head, reluctant to meet his gaze. What would she see there?
“Hello, Martha.”
His voice had the same deep rumble she remembered. Maybe itwashim. Her shoulders relaxed a bit.
“How are you, Martha?”
“I am well. How are you? Did you have a pleasant journey?”Martha asked the question Nurse had told her was appropriate to ask and glanced at her mother, who nodded and gestured for Martha to move closer.
She leaned against the arm of the chair, her fingers brushing the wool of Father’s suit. The scent of dirt and pine needles clung to him. Father always smelled like that. It reminded her of digging for bones with him.
“The journey was long, but we have returned home.” He toyed with the bulbous silver top of the walking stick. “I... I have a small present for you.”
Martha looked up at him, trying to ignore the differences in his face. “You do? Are they tools for another dig?” She clasped her hands together under her chin.
Father’s eyes narrowed to slits. “No. And there will be no more digs. Your mother and I have decided that you must focus your time on other pursuits.”
No more digs? She stepped back and glanced at Mother then back to Father. The digs had been her special time with him. Why was he taking that away? “Why? I want to dig with you.”
He gripped the walking stick in his fist and tapped the floor with it. “No. It is not ladylike. You must learn how to become a lady fitting your station. We will hear no argument, Martha. And you will not ask to dig with me ever again. Do you understand?”
Tears burned her eyes and one slid down her cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand and nodded.
“Good girl,” he murmured. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out two sticks of candy. “I brought you back your favorite sassafras sticks and this.” He put the sticks in her hand as well as a small round circle of gold. It was a coin. Small ridges lined both sides of the precious metal.Three dollarsand the year 1870 were inscribed on one side. Martha flipped it over and found a woman with a funny crown and the wordsUnited States of Americastamped on it. “This coin has givenme lots of good luck in my life,” Father said, his voice softer now. “And I want you to have it. I hope it will bring you as much luck as it brought me.”
Martha clutched the candy and the coin close. “Thank you.”
“Yes, well ...” He coughed and patted her head. “That’s a good girl.”
Martha could feel tears in her eyes again. She was unsure what to do. He appeared to be dismissing her. Did she go back and sit with Mother? Or was she expected to talk with him some more? Her eyes darted back and forth between her parents, sweat making the candy in her hand sticky.
Suddenly, Nurse was beside her, a firm hand in the middle of her back. “Give your regards to your parents, miss. We will have tea in the nursery.”
Martha gave her parents a small curtsy. “Thank you for the afternoon.” Her voice was just above a whisper. Neither responded, and Nurse ushered her out of the drawing room and upstairs to the nursery.
A small tea tray with her favorite raspberry tarts and sandwiches was waiting on the table, but Martha wasn’t hungry, not even for tarts. She dropped the sassafras sticks and coin on an empty saucer and ran to her bed, throwing herself into the soft safety of her pillow. The tears she held back downstairs now unleashed in full force.
What happened to her father? Why couldn’t she dig with him anymore?
She sobbed into the fancy pillowcase. She didn’twantto be a lady. She wanted to be in the mountains, getting bones out of rocks.
The feather mattress dipped as Nurse sat down next to her. “Come now, Miss Martha. It isn’t as bad as all this fuss. Your parents are home. And they have grand plans for you. All will be well.”
