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Why was it that the men were offered a drink and not the women? “What of the women, Papa? Are you offering one to any of us?”
“Would you care for one?” Papa thick eyebrows raised.
“Yes, please,” I said more firmly than I felt.
“Don’t do it,” Mama said. “It’ll make you cough.”
“It might not,” I said. “I’d like to see for myself.”
“You’re a young lady,” Theo said. “Proper young ladies don’t guzzle whiskey.”
“What does being a woman have to do with it?” Josephine asked. Her mild tone told me she didn’t really care one way or the other, but I appreciated her support anyway.
“Yes, what’s our gender have to do with whether you take a pint now or then?” Shannon asked. “Not that I would.” Her eyes sparkled with humor as she placed her hand over her round stomach. “All of Ireland’s done enough drinking for generations to come.”
“I’d not care for one. Nothing good ever came from drink,” Louisa said softly.
Her father was proof of that. Poor Louisa. How she’d suffered when she was a little girl. Seeing how good she was made me feel worse about myself. She’d had nothing but abuse for the first nine years of her life, and yet she’d devoted herself to Theo. Since Shannon and Flynn’s first child, Louisa had found her calling as a midwife, assisting Theo and Dr. Neal in almost every birth of Emerson Pass.
“If you’d like a glass, you may have mine,” Viktor said.
“Thank you, Viktor, but I’ll have my own,” I said.
“Very kind of you,” Papa said, laughing. “But in this family, it’s best to give the women what they ask for.” He poured one last glass and handed it to me. “Here you are, love. Don’t drink it all in one gulp.”
I sniffed the amber liquid, then swirled it around, almost spilling part of it over the sides. Horrid smell. I’d never actually had whiskey, but I’d made such a fuss that I had to go through with it. I brought the glass of my lips and sipped. The nasty liquid burned my throat and made the hair in my nostrils feel as if they might melt. But I would not cough. No, I would not. I’d not give them all the satisfaction.
“Not to your liking?” Papa shot me a look mixed with humor and kindness. He was always on my side even when I wasn’t on my own.
“I loved it.” I took another gulp to prove myself. This time I sputtered and coughed. And coughed some more. Blast it all.
“I tried to warn you,” Mama said.
“Went down the wrong way, that’s all,” I said.
Viktor rose from his chair and whipped out his handkerchief. I took it from him without meeting his gaze and wiped the tears from under my eyes.
“May I get you a water?” Viktor asked.
“Yes, please,” I mumbled, humiliated. It was bad enough to act like a fool in front of my family, but having Viktor here stung even worse.
“What about you, Fiona?” Flynn asked, his dark blue eyes twinkling. “Do you want a chance to cough like your sister?”
Fiona lifted her eyes from the sheet music from which she’d been playing. “Why would I want to cough?” She obviously hadn’t been listening to the discussion.
I groaned and patted the spot just above my bosom that continued to burn. “To prove that women can do anything men can.”
Fiona looked at me with blank eyes. She was a thousand miles away, I realized. What could she have been thinking of while we were all talking and carrying on? A niggle of worry came to me. I’d noticed she seemed distracted and forlorn the last few months. Was she feeling as I did? That life was passing her by?
“They certainly drink it at the club,” Flynn was saying. “Women toss back as much gin as the men.”
Theo shook his head, clearly displeased. “Illegal gin.”
“A businessman must supply the people with what they want,” Flynn said.
“Not if it’s breaking the law,” Theo said.
“What’s that in your hand, brother?” Flynn asked.
“It’s different in your own home,” Theo said.
“Whatever you say,” Flynn said. “But I’m not ashamed of how we run our business, and the police chief sure likes his drink.”
Josephine and I exchanged a glance. She’d told me in secret her worries about Flynn and Phillip’s illegal business enterprise. We knew our brother. Flynn would do almost anything to succeed.
“Now that we’ve determined women can have whiskey if they want, I have an announcement,” Flynn said. “Or, rather, Phillip and I have an announcement.” He looked at his brother-in-law. “Would you like to tell them?”
“No, it was your idea,” Phillip said. “You go ahead.”
“We’re hosting a competition on the mountain,” Flynn said. “Something similar to the Winter Games last year in France.”
I sat up straighter. “Competition? What do you mean?” My stomach fluttered with excitement.
“Downhill skiing competitions for speed,” Flynn said. “As well as ski jumping.”
“We hope to attract some of the best in the world,” Phillip said. “Along with crowds of watchers.”
“We’re going to put this town on the map,” Flynn said.
“A competition,” I murmured as I looked at Viktor. He mouthed the word you and gestured at me with his finger.
I beamed back at him, forgetting the world for a moment. He understood. Viktor Olofsson knew exactly where my mind had gone.
My thigh muscles tensed. This was it. I would finally have a chance. The scores of the ski jumpers had been reported in the papers. I’d cut it out and placed it in my stocking drawer. Every day I looked at it and imagined myself beating those scores. With a little more practice, I might have a chance. Please, God, bring the snow.
“I’ll have to start training right away,” I said to Flynn.
Flynn blinked and glanced over at Phillip as if he needed his partner to answer for him.
“Um, well, this would be for men only,” Phillip said.
“You must be joking,” Josephine said. “Why? What about Cym?”
Phillip raised one shoulder in a sheepish gesture. “This would be like the Winter Games. Only men athletes.”
Fiona had stopped playing. “But Cym could beat them all in the jump.”
“Men don’t want to compete against a woman.” Flynn spoke dismissively and waved his hand around as if he were swatting a fly. “Anyway, this is a business opportunity, not a contest for Cym.”
“What about one just for women?” Josephine asked between clenched teeth. “If the men don’t want to compete against a woman who can probably beat them, then do a separate contest.”
“There aren’t any women who want to compete,” Flynn said, sounding irritated. “Other than our sister.”
“Surely Cymbeline isn’t the only one?” Viktor asked.
