Prologue

Dalton, Massachusetts, 1875

The gentle pitter-patting of rain on the roof of the papermill had rapidly increased to a harsh, violent drumming of water against metal. It was accompanied by a howling, whining wind. Zadie tried to recall a more violent storm in her lifetime but could not think of one. Dalton, Massachusetts was not known for having radical shifts in weather.

It was only the day before that she and her friend Liza enjoyed a picnic lunch and picked poppies in the meadow just outside of town. Liza knew so much about flowers. Sending poppies to someone signals that you are unavailable to see them at the time, Liza told her. Zadie teased her friend that she should gather extra. With a new baby, she was no longer in the position of hosting company. The thought of Liza’s baby left a slight pain in Zadie’s chest.

Of course, she was thrilled for her friend, but she knew that the new baby meant that her time living with her friend was coming to a close. Liza and Henry would never say anything to the contrary, but Zadie couldn’t continue to impose on her friend and her husband when they’d have their hands full with a newborn.

Hosting a guest, even a close friend who didn’t pay much mind to the etiquette of hosting her was too much to handle when there was a new baby.  There was no way that the modest rent she paid warranted taking up space they would need for their growing family.

She set her seam cutter down and ran her calloused and tired hands over the faded floral patten of her apron. Zadie never imagined that she would work as a rag sorter in the papermill but since her father died from pneumonia the previous winter, she needed the money. So, each day she woke early, walked to the papermill and removed seams and buttons from old clothing so the fabric could be turned into paper. It was hard work and only paid a dollar a day, but it would help her get ahead of the debts her father had left behind.

Her stomach turned each time she thought of the amount of money that her father borrowed. When he was alive, he had a nasty habit of using the borrowed money to pay for rent and food but would turn around and spend his earnings on liquor and card games. She couldn’t remember it, but Zadie knew that there had been a time her father wasn’t like that. Anyone who knew him longer than she had been around said that it was only after Zadie’s mother died that he started looking for an escape. It was hard for her not to be bitter about the debt. After all, she had lived her whole life without her mother, but even in her most frustrated moments, Zadie still missed her father something terrible.

She was rudely pulled from her thoughts when she heard some of her coworkers scream. The workers, both men and women, began running frantically toward the doors. She looked around for a moment, trying to see what caused the chaos. Confused, Zadie took off at a trot, following the mob toward the door, holding an arm out to pause one of her fellow workers. “What’s happening?” The reality of imminent danger hit Zadie hard, and pumped energy through her. Her heart began pounding in her ears.

The woman had tears in her eyes. Zadie recognized this woman’s dark, wavy hair and tired face as one of the fabric pullers, Caroline. “They sent word from upriver. The dam is about to burst. It might have already. We have to get to higher ground,” her words spilled out.

Zadie froze, her eyes wide for a moment before Caroline tugged at her arm to get her moving again. She lifted her skirt with one hand to avoid tripping as she began running. With her other hand, she held tightly to Caroline until they reached the door and Caroline disappeared somewhere in the commotion.

Zadie’s boots sank into sticky mud with each step, pulling at her feet as she ran. Rain and wind drowned out the sounds of chaos coming from the townsfolk scrambling up the hill all around her.

The sky was blanketed in black clouds, and the trees leaned so far in the wind that Zadie was sure they were about to snap. The wind screamed through the trees, but the sound was muffled in her ears by her own thudding heartbeat. Zadie’s ankle rolled as her foot landed on a stone, and she fell forward. She looked up and saw men’s legs and women’s skirts racing past her as she gathered herself and pushed up against the earth.

Once she was on her feet, she pushed forward, running as fast as she could to keep up with the crowd. Zadie didn’t know how long she ran before she realized that people were slowing. We must be high enough, she thought. She turned, wincing at the pain in her ankle and looked down in the valley below.

Dark swirling water already had reached the town. The water pulled wood away from buildings and Zadie saw a carriage turn over at the weight of the incoming floodwater. She leaned against a nearby maple tree, unable to tear her eyes from Dalton. Screams echoed in the valley, barely audible over the rushing water. Periodically the loud crack of wood snapped, from a tree breaking in the wind or from buildings in town, punctuating the chaos like thunder. From her place on the hilltop, she could see the small house that she lived in with Liza on the far side of town. The water hadn’t reached it yet.

Let them be safe, please. Zadie prayed silently for her friends as she scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Her body started shaking; Liza had to be here somewhere. She recognized some of the faces from the papermill, and others as townspeople. She wondered how many people were in town when the water hit. Zadie limped along the hillside, looking at each face she saw, desperate to see Liza’s bright eyes among them.

“Zadie!” Liza’s voice broke over the rush of the wind and the cries of the people on the hilltop.

She turned to see her friend hurrying toward her with her tiny son in her arms and Henry, her husband, trailing behind. Liza’s yellow dress was soaked through, and wet locks of her chestnut hair stuck to her face. Henry’s eyes were red and puffy as though he’d been crying.

“Liza! I’m so relieved to see you here!” Zadie’s words came out in an exclamation of relief. Everything would be alright now. The hard pounding of her heart began to soothe into a gentler beat.

Liza began to cry. Zadie leaned in and hugged her friend tightly. She wished that she could say everything would be alright, but there was no way to be certain of that. Instead, all the two women could do in that moment was hold tightly to each other and pray.

Chapter One

Dalton, Massachusetts, 1875.

A week passed since the dam broke and flooded Dalton. Most of the water had subsided enough that the residents could go home and inspect the damages. A thick brown coating of mud encased the bottom of every building. Supplies from the papermill littered the street, having been washed away in the flood. Part of the papermill tilted; it was only a question of whether the building would collapse on its own, or if it would have to be pulled down. Houses were missing shingles from rooves. Cellars were still filled with water.

Most of the neighbors chose to stay and rebuild or repair their homes, but Henry and Liza knew that their house was too far gone. The one-story home somehow managed to remain standing, but the floors were saturated with water and the walls were all damaged. Henry said that the wood was guaranteed to rot. Choosing to stay would mean that they would have to rebuild practically from scratch. They knew that wasn’t feasible with the new baby.

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Liza looked down at Zadie from her seat in the wagon, her baby fussing in her lap. Henry was busy securing their possessions in the back of the wagon with rope. There were a few trunks filled with anything that was salvageable from their home—dishes, framed photographs, some valuables. Henry paused every so often to take off his hat and wipe his brow.

Liza gently rocked her son, trying to calm him. His tiny face scrunched as he cried but relaxed as his mother rocked him. The baby was swaddled in an old tablecloth—one of the few fabrics that wasn’t completely ruined in the flood. Liza insisted that Zadie join them at her sister’s home, but Zadie couldn’t imagine moving in with someone she barely knew.

“Liza, I barely felt comfortable accepting your charity for this long. I couldn’t possibly stay with you and your sister. You’ve done enough,” Zadie insisted, shaking her head. Logically, she knew that by paying rent and her share of food, she had consistently contributed to the household, but Zadie couldn’t help but feel she had been a burden. Liza insisted she hadn’t been, but Zadie knew she’d still interrupted their lives. They had enough to deal with without having to find room for her.

Liza frowned, glancing over at Henry, before sniffling back a few tears. “What are you going to do without the papermill? You won’t have anywhere to stay, or any way to feed yourself.” Anxiety tinged her voice.

“I’ll be alright.” Zadie tried to think of some way to relieve her friend’s worry. “The papermill didn’t pay much to begin with, so it’s no great loss to me personally.” A small lie wouldn’t hurt if it meant that Liza didn’t lose sleep over her predicament. “It’s time for a change anyhow. Without Father here, I haven’t really felt at home in Dalton lately.” Zadie wished that last utterance were part of the lie. Her father wasn’t a perfect man, but he still loved her. She reached up and grasped Liza’s hand tightly for a moment. “I promise that I’ll write to you as soon as I find somewhere to settle,” Zadie promised.

Liza squeezed her friend’s hand for a moment before reaching behind her in the wagon, bringing out a dried pink zinnia to hand to her dear friend. “Zinnias are the flowers of friendship, you know,” she said softly. Liza always hung flowers from the rafters to dry out for preservation, which kept them away from the floodwaters. It was strange to realize that some of the most delicate items in Liza’s home came through the ordeal untouched.

Zadie accepted the flower and gently rested it over her heart. “Thank you …” her eyes stung, and she blinked hard to try to push back tears, “… for everything. Thank you.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. No amount of thanks would ever be enough to express how much Liza had helped her.

Liza finally sat up straight and Henry hopped into the wagon with her, taking the reins. He was a quiet man and had been even more so since the flood. “You’ve been wonderful to have around,” he finally said. “We’ll miss you.”  He tipped his hat to Zadie and gave the reins a flick. Zadie stood in front of the house and watched as the wagon rolled out of town and out of sight.

***

Zadie stepped back into the house. Now that Liza was gone, she didn’t feel right staying in the house, even if it was still standing for the time being. The church was finding places for people to stay, so once she packed up the last of her belongings, she planned to check whether anyone at the church could provide a roof over her head until she got back on her feet.

Fortunately, one of the few places that made it through the flood in one piece were printing presses, so the newspaper was being produced. Zadie picked up the most recent edition from the table, setting the zinnia down in its place.

No sooner did she open the newspaper, than the sound of approaching horse’s hooves filtered in from the open window. Zadie stood and glanced outside to see a tall, broad man with blond hair dismounting a black horse. Her stomach dropped, and a shiver of anxiety raced through her. It was Thursday, and like every Thursday Ulysses was here to collect Zadie’s payment against her father’s debt.

She wished her father had shared more information regarding his debts to the Black family, but he had never considered that knowledge of the family finances important enough to burden his daughter with. Unfortunately, that left Zadie unprepared to manage the sheer amount of debt he’d accrued now that she owned it.

She took a deep breath, her heart beginning to pound. Nausea bubbled in her stomach. How could anyone ask for a payment at a time like this? She’d known Ulysses most of her life, so there must be some sort of agreement they could reach until she found a new job. She wished that Liza and Henry would reappear; she didn’t want to face this man alone.

Zadie stepped into the front doorway (the door missing since the flood) and pasted on a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Black. I’m glad to see you so well considering all the town has suffered this week.” Zadie kept her voice light and polite as her smile.

“Hello, Miss O’Brien. I could say the same to you. I was quite worried for you when I saw what became of the papermill.” Ulysses gave her a wolfish grin, removing his hat as he waltzed past Zadie into the house. “It’s been a busy week for all of us. Between fixing up damages from the flood and evicting a few families, it’s been exhausting. I understand the papermill employed most of the town, but we can’t just let everyone stop paying their rent and back payments, can we?” There was a light air of humor in his voice and a twinkle in his eye as if he just told an amusing joke. He strode into the kitchen. The sun peeking through the window reflected off his dark blue coat and gave the damp walls a bluish aura.

The fact that this man found humor in evicting people after they lost so much turned to stone lodging in Zadie’s stomach as she followed him. “We’ve all seen quite a bit of loss this week,” she remarked. She paused for a moment before taking a careful breath. Telling him off for his lack of empathy certainly wouldn’t help her case. Be polite and gracious, she told herself.

“Mr. Black, I must apologize, but since I haven’t been able to work because of the flood, I’m unable to make my payment this week. You know I’m good for the money. I’ve never once missed a payment, and all I ask is that you give me a few more weeks to get a new job so that I can resume payments.” Zadie managed to keep her voice even and her head high. She clutched her skirt to keep her hands from shaking visibly.

Ulysses shook his head, humming to himself.  He leaned against the table with his back to the window. “Well, Miss O’Brien, I certainly wasn’t expecting you to fall behind on your payments.” He picked up the zinnia from the table and slowly twirled it between his fingers.

“I know, and I apologize again. I will be completely forward with you and say that I did not expect to inherit this much debt from my father. I never knew until he died that he gambled away so much,” she explained. “I’m just trying to do right by you and your company.” Zadie frowned, watching him inspect the flower, willing him to put it down.

“Oh, I completely understand, Miss O’Brien. Don’t take my comment about evictions to heart. Those people had more than one missed payment. I’m sure you and I can come to an agreement.” Ulysses looked her over, carefully. Zadie saw the same look in his eyes as men inspecting cattle for purchase: cold, calculating examination from head to toe. Her skin prickled and itched as his eyes passed over her. She gripped handfuls of her skirt again, but this time she was sure he could see her shaking.

“Miss O’Brien, if I may be so bold, I might have a solution for your predicament.” Ulysses’ voice came out in a slow drawl. “I have always been rather fond of you, and now that you’re struggling and your father no longer with us, rest his soul, I’ll make you a generous offer. I have a way that can make your debt completely disappear. No more payments, no more interest, nothing.”

Zadie let out a slow breath, relieved for a brief instant until a feeling of dread crept over her skin. “And what do you ask in return?” She kept her voice light even as she felt her stomach drop.

“As I said, I’ve always been rather fond of you,” Ulysses took a step toward her, continuing even as she backed away from him. Zadie only stopped when she hit the wall next to the doorframe. He gave her another wolfish smile and gently ran a finger along her long blonde braid. She pulled her head away but had no room to step back no matter how hard she tried. “I have more than enough money to make us both happy for the rest of our lives.”

Zadie flinched from his touch, scowling. “I told you before, Mr. Black, that I have no intention of ever marrying you. Furthermore, if memory serves, my father told you that he would never grant his blessing. You should be ashamed to even suggest that I marry you after he previously denied you my hand.” There was reproach in her voice.

“Then maybe it’s for the best he isn’t here to refuse me now.” A sneer crossed the man’s face as he twirled the flower in his fingers once again. “Marry me and all of your troubles disappear.” His tone was like poisoned honey: smooth and sweet with a sharp edge.

A low growl escaped Zadie’s throat. “My father refused to let you marry me because he knew what kind of man you are, running your business like you do. I’ll never marry a man like you.” She moved to take a step to the side, but Ulysses grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

“You have no other options, my dear.” Ulysses tightened his grasp in a bruising grip. “If you can’t pay back your father’s debt, you’ll rot in jail for the next ten years. Then what becomes of you? By that point no man alive would marry you save some old widower desperate for a woman’s arms in his old age. We wouldn’t want that to be your fate now, would we?” he said with a quiet snarl. He let the threat of locking her away hang in the air.

“Let go!” Zadie tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was too tight. “I’d rather go to jail than be your wife.”

Ulysses threw the zinnia aside and moved to grab her other arm. Zadie leaned back as far as she could and grabbed the first thing she could reach, a wooden rolling pin and hit his arm as hard as she could. He loosened his hold on her enough that she turned in an instant and slipped out the door.

She ran as fast as she could into town, turning corners and finally ducking into an alleyway before she paused to catch her breath. She heard Black’s footfalls pass her hiding place. Her arm was sore from his brutal grip, and she was certain that bruises would appear tomorrow. After waiting a few moments, Zadie navigated through muddy back alleys closer to the house. She settled on waiting behind the building directly across the street. A glance around the corner toward her friend’s former home showed that the horse was still there. Once Black collected his horse and left, Zadie would be able to go retrieve her few belongings.

She sank down on a wooden box against the side of the building and took another breath. Nothing to do now other than wait until she could get her things. Zadie hung her head, closing her eyes for a moment to try to collect herself. Lord, I don’t know what to do. Please help me, she prayed. Send me instructions, a direction, a sign, anything. Just please, help me.

The only thing different that Zadie noticed was a pebble in her shoe as she wiggled her toes. She opened her eyes and looked down, seeing a torn piece of newspaper. It was part of the job advertisements. Could this be the sign she had asked for?

Zadie began to read through the listings. A handful of them were for jobs further west. Several were for governesses. One in Chicago, one in Ohio and one in Kansas. The listing from Kansas, posted by a Mr. Walker, caught Zadie’s attention.

Needed: Governess to care for and teach twins on Kansas ranch. Salary: five dollars per month. Room and board included.

Kansas was a long way from Dalton and a long way from Ulysses Black and his unwanted advances.

***

Once Black’s horse was out of sight, Zadie darted into the house and quickly packed her carpetbag: one dress, a shawl, the half-full book of her stories, her fountain pen, and the family portrait taken with her and her parents. People were getting help at the church, so that would be her first stop to see if they could find somewhere she could stay. She carefully pulled a blank page from her journal and wrote a response to the advertisement to mail as soon as she could post it.

Dear Mr. Walker,

I am writing in response to your advertisement for a governess for twins. I will admit that I have not served as a governess before, but I am certain that my hardworking nature and intelligence will fit the position well. All I am looking for is a chance to work hard, and an opportunity for a new life away from Massachusetts. I can promise that I will not disappoint you.

With regards,

Miss Zadie O’Brien

Out of the corner of her eye, Zadie could see the crumpled zinnia on the floor. Her whole body froze for a moment as she remembered the way that Ulysses had picked up the flower like it belonged to him, the way he touched her like she belonged to him. Her eyes stung with tears. That flower was supposed to be a loving parting gift from her dearest friend, but now the sweet gesture was tainted.

After saying a silent goodbye to Liza’s home, Zadie peeked out the window to ensure that Black was nowhere to be seen before hurrying out the door and making her way toward the church. If she walked in the alleys, she would be able to get within a few yards of the church without being visible from the main roads.

It was getting to be early evening. The streets were mostly empty, save for a few stragglers. Most people were home for supper by this time of day. After peering around buildings and walking as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, Zadie finally reached the church safely. She stepped inside and took a deep breath before glancing around. The setting sun sent long multi-colored rays of light along the floor through the stained-glass windows. The only other person in the sanctuary was an elderly woman whom Zadie recognized immediately as Mary, one of the parishioners.

“Excuse me? I was hoping that you would be able to help me.” Zadie stepped closer to the woman. “The flood caused irreparable damage to the place I was staying, and my landlords are no longer are able to house me. Is there any way I could perhaps stay here?” It only took a moment for Zadie’s mind to imagine a dozen outcomes if the answer was negative, and each option ended with Ulysses Black finding her. She did her best to keep her breath even, but each breath caused her to tremble.

The old woman gave Zadie a tired smile. “There’s no end to how much the flood has affected our town, it seems. Most of the homes that have been taking in the destitute are full.” Mary peered into Zadie’s face, seeing the disappointment and fear in the young woman’s eyes. “I have some space in my own home. The young ladies who were staying with me left for Maine this afternoon. I would be honored to have you stay with me. I was just getting ready to go home myself.”

Relief washed over Zadie. She released the tension in her shoulders and relaxed. “Thank you. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Her voice was tremulous, but grateful.

“I’m just happy to be doing His work.” The woman’s smile was warm and caring.

Zadie set her bag down for a moment to approach the alter. She gave thanks for the opportunity with Mr. Walker, for this woman’s kindness, and prayed for a swift response from Kansas.