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I watch the stranger’s face. I can see that he’s heard the rumors around town. This doesn’t surprise me. There are a lot of them. Some people believe me to be psychotic, others go as far as calling me possessed, probably on account of what happened with Mama. Either way, most townsfolk would agree. They might put it nicely, some of them, by leaving the crazy part out, simply saying I’m too smart for my own good. A real handful; the kind of girl who doesn’t know her place.
The stranger’s eyes look away, which is good, because it gives me time to study him more closely without being what my father calls “rude.” Will Davenport’s brows are furrowed in concentration, his face scowling. His lips are twisted in thought. It looks as if he is thinking, working something out, and then suddenly it all comes together, and he looks troubled. My father repeats himself. He tells Will Davenport about my unique “abilities.”
“She’s a prize,” Daddy says. “A real prize.”
“I can see that.”
I smile because I realize what has come together in Will Davenport’s mind. The same thing that always comes together if I’m not what Daddy calls “careful.”
The stranger is terrified of me. He doesn’t want to marry me. He doesn’t even want to be here.
It’s obvious in how fast he manages to find an excuse to leave.
When he puts his hand out to say goodbye, his skin is cold and clammy, and I have to fight the urge to wipe his sweat off onto my dress. For a second, I wish he would say something, but he doesn't. He just tips his hat and leaves, the broken screen door swinging behind him.
“Strange,” I say to my father. “He looked like he saw a ghost.”
“Why all the questions, Gin?”
I can see the pain in his expression. He is thinking that I'll never learn. “You scared that poor man. Couldn’t you have simply greeted him properly? Said ‘how do you do,’ or ‘how do you do, sir?’”
“I’ve never seen him before.”
He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I didn’t think you had.”
