reached for his coat that
hung on the hook and walked his way into the town searching out
breakfast.
***
The eatery was another one
of those buildings from the beginning of time. It felt more like
home than a business. Everyone new everyone else except when the
stage line stopped allowing its passengers a reprieve from the
jostling ride and offered them a chance for a hot meal.
Justice Foster sat across
from Thomas. He didn't even try to hid the happy fact that he
wasn't the one to be sacrificed on the alter of matrimony for the
good of the town.
“I wonder
where the forefather brains were when they wrote the town charter,”
Thomas said.
“Times
were different back then. When the town had men four to one ratio
over the women. Just how much teaching do you think got done with a
single woman being courted night and day?” Justice smiled showing
the empty space where his two front teeth used to be. “And when the
woman a looker or homely as a cow picked one. They'd pack up and
move out of town.”
“Guess
they got tried of finding new teachers time and again, but...”
Thomas' words were left hanging in the air. Justice turned to see
what caught his friend’s undivided attention.
Thomas stood, “Excuse
me.”
What ever Justice said
after that wasn't heard by the man who now moved toward the back of
the room.
Thomas cleared his throat.
The woman sitting at the rear table didn't respond.
“Excuse
me.”
Slowly as if the
interruption was definitely an interruption the woman raised her
head and stared.
“Excuse
me. But, are you reading a book actually written in French?” Smooth Thomas smooth . He
berated himself. He was about to forgive himself for sounding like
an idiot when he now was stunned speechless by her eyes. He closed
his dangling open month so fast he teeth snapped shut with a
clack.
He tried to recoup.
“Thomas Kincaid, I er, forgive me I never knew anyone who could
read anything but English. Comment allez-vous profiter de la livre
jusqu'à présent? ( How are you enjoying the
book so far?)
She relaxed. "Pardonnez mon impolitesse. Une femme voyageant
seule ne peut pas être trop prudent." ( Forgive my rudeness. A
woman traveling alone can not be too careful.)
“May I”
Thomas hand reached for the book before she could answer. Her
response was automatic as his fingers tightened around the spine of
the book. He chuckle. She blushed.
“ The Country Waif by Madame George Sand.” An eyebrow raised before
he asked, “I hear she has, let's say a rather unconventional view
about passion and the innocent.”
She
blushed again. This time Thomas thought beautiful .
“Thomas
Kincaid.” he repeated, “May I join you for a last cup of coffee
before you go?”
She nodded and
motioned with an open hand. “Please, Victoria Trent. I'm please to
make your acquaintance.”
He pulled out the
chair opposite from her. Placed the closed book next to her empty
plate and signaled the waiter all at the same time.
“So,
Tell me, Victoria Trent, how does someone know French so well that
you can read it? Forgive my forwardness, but in a little bit you'll
be on that stage, and sadly we'll never speak again.”
A tingle of pink remained
on Victoria's cheeks and she answered.
“Your
looking at a graduate of the Bradford Academy of Bradford,
Massachusetts.” Her chin raised a tad higher.
He smiled and the
expression in her eyes gave away she liked what she saw. Thomas
liked what he heard as well as saw.
“A grand
accomplishment for sure. I rarely get to enjoy meeting an educated
woman.”
Victoria was about to
bristle when she realize he wore no smirk on his face.
“I don't
usually get that type of response. Usually, I am told I inspire to be above my station. What a waste of
money and time to education a woman who will just aspire to be a
wife and mother.”
“Nonsense
and fore shame. Apparently, you haven't met the right kind on
people or man. Whether male or female how would you carry on
hung on the hook and walked his way into the town searching out
breakfast.
***
The eatery was another one
of those buildings from the beginning of time. It felt more like
home than a business. Everyone new everyone else except when the
stage line stopped allowing its passengers a reprieve from the
jostling ride and offered them a chance for a hot meal.
Justice Foster sat across
from Thomas. He didn't even try to hid the happy fact that he
wasn't the one to be sacrificed on the alter of matrimony for the
good of the town.
“I wonder
where the forefather brains were when they wrote the town charter,”
Thomas said.
“Times
were different back then. When the town had men four to one ratio
over the women. Just how much teaching do you think got done with a
single woman being courted night and day?” Justice smiled showing
the empty space where his two front teeth used to be. “And when the
woman a looker or homely as a cow picked one. They'd pack up and
move out of town.”
“Guess
they got tried of finding new teachers time and again, but...”
Thomas' words were left hanging in the air. Justice turned to see
what caught his friend’s undivided attention.
Thomas stood, “Excuse
me.”
What ever Justice said
after that wasn't heard by the man who now moved toward the back of
the room.
Thomas cleared his throat.
The woman sitting at the rear table didn't respond.
“Excuse
me.”
Slowly as if the
interruption was definitely an interruption the woman raised her
head and stared.
“Excuse
me. But, are you reading a book actually written in French?” Smooth Thomas smooth . He
berated himself. He was about to forgive himself for sounding like
an idiot when he now was stunned speechless by her eyes. He closed
his dangling open month so fast he teeth snapped shut with a
clack.
He tried to recoup.
“Thomas Kincaid, I er, forgive me I never knew anyone who could
read anything but English. Comment allez-vous profiter de la livre
jusqu'à présent? ( How are you enjoying the
book so far?)
She relaxed. "Pardonnez mon impolitesse. Une femme voyageant
seule ne peut pas être trop prudent." ( Forgive my rudeness. A
woman traveling alone can not be too careful.)
“May I”
Thomas hand reached for the book before she could answer. Her
response was automatic as his fingers tightened around the spine of
the book. He chuckle. She blushed.
“ The Country Waif by Madame George Sand.” An eyebrow raised before
he asked, “I hear she has, let's say a rather unconventional view
about passion and the innocent.”
She
blushed again. This time Thomas thought beautiful .
“Thomas
Kincaid.” he repeated, “May I join you for a last cup of coffee
before you go?”
She nodded and
motioned with an open hand. “Please, Victoria Trent. I'm please to
make your acquaintance.”
He pulled out the
chair opposite from her. Placed the closed book next to her empty
plate and signaled the waiter all at the same time.
“So,
Tell me, Victoria Trent, how does someone know French so well that
you can read it? Forgive my forwardness, but in a little bit you'll
be on that stage, and sadly we'll never speak again.”
A tingle of pink remained
on Victoria's cheeks and she answered.
“Your
looking at a graduate of the Bradford Academy of Bradford,
Massachusetts.” Her chin raised a tad higher.
He smiled and the
expression in her eyes gave away she liked what she saw. Thomas
liked what he heard as well as saw.
“A grand
accomplishment for sure. I rarely get to enjoy meeting an educated
woman.”
Victoria was about to
bristle when she realize he wore no smirk on his face.
“I don't
usually get that type of response. Usually, I am told I inspire to be above my station. What a waste of
money and time to education a woman who will just aspire to be a
wife and mother.”
“Nonsense
and fore shame. Apparently, you haven't met the right kind on
people or man. Whether male or female how would you carry on
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