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“Proficiently.”
He made a note on the paper, dipped his pen in an inkwell,
then held it poised. “And your family?”
“My ancestors are Scots, though my parents grew up in England.
They came to America in fifty-one. I was four at the time.”
“Your father’s occupation?”
“He stained and embossed wallpaper.” She rubbed her arms
beneath her cape. “Actually, he invented a machine that made his
handiwork unnecessary. His employer claimed and utilized the
invention. So the very thing my father placed all his dreams upon
proved to be the rock which destroyed his livelihood.”
“I see.” Mr. Mercer shook his head in sympathy as he continued
to write. “What did he do then?”
“He joined the war.”
“Ah. He’s home, then?”
“No, he was killed at Antietam.”
Mercer continued to write. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“How is your family faring without him?”
She lowered her gaze. “Shortly after he died, my brother joined
up as a drummer. He didn’t last even a year. But it was disease that
killed him, not the rebels. My mother . . .” Anna swallowed. “She
never recovered.”
“You are orphaned, then?”
“Quite. And destitute as well, I’m afraid.”
He paused in his scribblings. “You have money for the pas-
sage, though?”
She moistened her lips. “I do not.” She had spent a fair por-
tion of her funds for the train ticket and needed more still for
lodging.
He laid down his pen.
“I could pay you once I arrived and secured employment,
though.”
Mercer began to shake his head, so she rushed on.
28
A Bri de i n the Bargai n
“I saw in your ad that work as a domestic, teacher, or nanny
was guaranteed. I’m not a trained teacher, though I am very well-
read and believe I could teach. But I’d be better suited as a domestic
or nanny. You see, I took charge of our home almost from the
moment my father enlisted. After he was gone, I held many jobs,
the latest as a cook for a popular inn in Granby.”
He’d placed his pen back in its holder and had moved his
notes to the side, when her last comment stalled him. “A cook,
you say?”
“Yes. I prepared the menu and all courses for the morning,
noon, and evening meals, having only Sundays off.”
“You can cook for large crowds?”
“I can. And I’m most accomplished at it.”
Mercer leaned back in his chair. “Well. We aren’t taking any
passengers on credit, but there is one man who wanted a br—, a
woman who could feed the men who work for him.”
She straightened. “Well, I daresay he’d be very pleased
with me.”
Mercer gave her a quick appraisal. “I daresay he would.”
“How many men does he employ?”
“He’s a lumberjack. I’m not sure how many men are involved
in his operation. No more than a dozen, I’d say, if that.”
A lumberjack. The word conjured up visions of pine forests,
fresh air, and wilderness—something far removed from the bustling
city, the aftermath of the war, and Hoke Dantzler.
“Goodness,” she said, a flicker of anticipation whisking through
her. “I could feed a dozen men with one hand tied behind my
back.”
He rubbed his hands against his legs. “Well, he was very specific
with his request. So, if I allowed you passage, it would be on the
condition that he paid your fare upon arrival and you would then
have to work off your debt for him.”
“I’m agreeable to those terms, if he is.”
Mercer said nothing. Just stared into space. She could see his
29
Deeanne Gi st
inner struggle. Was he worried she wouldn’t measure up to her
new employer?
Sitting a little straighter, she forced herself not to squirm.
Finally, he turned again to his desk and retrieved his pen. “Very
well, Miss Ivey. I will draw up your papers and award you passage
to the Washington Territory on the S.S. Continental.”
30 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]