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"Ain't you takin' a real chance by letting him go?"
"I don't think so, Helen, because if he does find out he cares for her and wants to change things, I've promised to not stand in his way of it."
"Oh, now don't be hasty honey. I like you, you seem so down to earth." Helen chuckled.
"I am down to earth Helen, I come form a poor Irish family that was practically thrown out of New York, just for being Irish. My mother and I scrubbed floors; my father was a seaman."
Helen stopped her sewing and stared at her, a smile breaking over her face, she touched her hand. "There's no shame in bein' poor honey. My father was a dirt farmer."
"Really, but this place is so well taken care of, and really beautiful."
"Shore it is honey, we worked our fingers to the bone for this place. My daddy hated Marty; said he'd never amount to a hill of beans. But he didn't know that it was him that spurred us on, to be better than that. Listen, everyone out here has a story to tell. I was treated like a boy all my life until Marty came along. I challenged him at every turn, trying to out do him. When I couldn't and felt so lost, he picked me up out of the dirt and kissed me like a real lady. From that day on, we ain't been apart."
Trudy chuckled.
"Lance is in love with you girl. You got a good one. I'm glad he made the mistake and married you. Why, I told Marty that gal he was writing too sounded like a rich little witch? Why, she would never fit in out here. Out here we work for what we get. Ain't not maids and servants around here. You'll do just fine. Now tell me, what do you think of Lance?"
Trudy blushed. "I'm in love with him, crazy in love with him."
Helen grinned, "I thought so. He's a good man, I can vouch for that. My Marty was working on an old well we had on the property, he was going to board it up and fix it so no one would hurt themselves. Well, some of the wood was rotten, he leaned into it to try to fix it, and it gave way and he fell in. It was the next day I found him, but I couldn't get him out, myself. So, I hightailed it over to Lance's and told him. Him and his boys came running. It took all that next day, but they got him out and all that was wrong with him was a broken leg. If Lance and his men hadn't come, I don't reckon my Marty would be here today."
"I guess living out here, you have to depend on your neighbors a lot."
"Things like that happen all the time. People are good about helping out as much as they can. Well, all except ole Weamer."
"Weamer?"
"Yeah,
he's an old hermit, lives about ten miles down the road. He ain't good for nothing. Keeps to himself, don't socialize and I doubt he'd ever lend a hand."
"Back home, where I come from, everyone kind of goes their own way, not as neighborly as out here." Trudy told her.
"I guess big cities ain't the same. Too many strangers there."
"If you weren't born there, your sort of an outsider. Being Irish wasn't popular where I was born, in New York."
"Irish, well you don't look any different than anyone else, how come?"
"Many of the Irish were indentured slaves in New York, owing their livelihoods to the British and then to the Americans, that brought a lot of them over here."
"Do tell. Sounds like you had a rough life."
"Not me, but my folks did. I guess maybe I would have if they hadn't been so good to me. I had a happy childhood, just poor."
"Ain't nothing wrong with bein' poor." Helen patted her hand.
"No, but coming out here, and then after marrying Lance, I figured he'd think I was scheming to get his money."
Helen raised a hand and waved it off, "If he'd have thought that, he would have sent you packing. So, what do you think is gonna happen when he gets to Boston?"
Trudy fidgeted a bit, "I don't know. I only hope it goes well, and he comes back to me."
"Have you consummated the marriage?" Helen asked, giving her a look over her spectacles.
"Yes ma'am," she looked away with a blush. "I couldn't help it. I missed him before he even left."
"Ain't no shame in lovin' your man. And he's yours, I'd bet my last dollar on that one."
