Today's Reading
Mr. Taylor nodded before he grumbled. "Whatever is delaying the start?"
"They must be waiting for someone." Mr. Harper leaned back into his corner and shut his eyes again.
"Stages don't wait for passengers." Mr. Taylor stuck his head out the window to yell at the driver, who shouted something back that was better unheard.
The stagecoach creaked to the side as someone climbed up to the top. Then a man jerked open the coach door and smiled at them. "The jehu says there is room for one more in here."
Mr. Taylor muttered under his breath and made no move to scoot over on the seat. The newcomer didn't let that bother him as he pushed through the flouncy skirts and sank down between the two men.
When he tried to position a square-shaped parcel on his lap, one of the corners poked Mr. Taylor, who shoved the edge away from him. "Watch out, man. You should put that with the baggage."
"No, I couldn't do that." The new passenger adjusted the parcel that then rested against Mother's small carpetbag in her lap. "From the look of the clouds in the west, it might rain before I get to my destination." He shifted it again and this time poked Elena's knees.
"Sorry." The man flashed a big smile at Elena and her mother but didn't move the bundle away.
Elena was surprised when her mother smiled back at him, but perhaps it wasn't surprising at all. The man's smile was infectious. Elena felt her own lips turning up almost of their own accord, and Ivy put her hand over her mouth to hide a giggle. Of course, Ivy was ready to laugh about almost anything.
Mr. Taylor didn't appear to be taken in by the man's smile. "Perhaps you should give the package your seat if it's that valuable and climb up to ride on top yourself."
"Do not concern yourself, Mr. Taylor. My daughters and I are quite prepared to adjust to accommodate our fellow travelers." Mother looked from the older man to the man causing a stir. "I don't mind the edge of your parcel resting on my carpetbag."
"That is so kind, madam." The new passenger beamed at Mother while he adjusted the package as far from Mr. Taylor as he could. "It is very light, and I promise to keep it balanced."
"Whatever is it? It seems large for a book." Mother touched the edge of the parcel.
"It's a canvas," Elena said.
The new passenger's eyes widened. "How did you know that, miss? Or is it madam?"
"She's an artist." Ivy spoke up. "And a miss."
Elena and Mother both gave Ivy a look that made her shrink back into her seat and fall silent.
"Amazing." The man with the package eyed Elena. "A lovely artist. And what do you like to create with your pens or paint?"
Before Elena could answer, Mother waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "She merely dabbles in art. Flowers and such."
"As fitting a lady," the man said.
Elena's cheeks heated up, but that would hardly be noticeable in the crowded, overly warm interior of the coach. Her mother did consider her art nothing more than a frivolous waste of time. She often told Elena she would be better served to practice the pianoforte or the art of embroidery.
Mr. Harper opened his eyes as he roused from his corner of the coach to study her. His eyes were the lightest blue Elena had ever seen. Like a sun-washed summer sky. Somehow that added to his pale appearance. He shifted his gaze to the man beside him. "Is she right? About the parcel?"
"As a matter of fact, she is."
"Then it surely must be the art of some master to make it so valuable you are inconveniencing everyone in our coach." Mr. Taylor's frown had not softened.
"Valuable enough. At least to me, since I am the master of the paint spread on this canvas."
"Are you someone I might know were you to say your name?" Elena couldn't stop her words even though they earned her mother's disapproval. Ladies did have to watch their tongues in mixed company, and this company was very mixed. However, in such close quarters with knees practically touching, ladylike behavior seemed next to impossible until they could alight from the coach.
The crack of a whip sounded outside. Hooves pounded against the hard surface of the road. The sudden jerk of the stage knocked Elena back in her seat and slid the parceled canvas toward them. Elena held it away from her mother's middle with one hand and grabbed the edge of her seat with the other.
...
