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“One more strike against makeup.”
“It’s like the house is protesting,” Holly said, padding after her. “I came down to see—well, after last night, I thought you might—I don’t know.”
Sarah knew. Her sister thought she might be afraid to sleep, afraid of another nightmare. She fumbled in the dark, screwing in the bulb, flinching involuntarily as the light came back on.
“I’m happy to sleep on the couch again,” Holly added.
“No, you go up. You need your beauty sleep.”
Holly stuck out her tongue and headed for the stairs.
“Hol,” Sarah called. “Thanks.”
Without turning, Holly raised a hand in acknowledgment.
Sarah picked up the cat and sat. Instead of the novel she hadn’t been able to get into, she opened Caro’s journal.
June 17, 1922
Con has taken the steamer back to town, leaving me alone with the children, and dear Fanny and Mrs. O’D. I know he is worried about us out here on our own—three women and three small children. But it was ever thus, was it not? Women have been left home while the men have gone off to work and war since time began. Why else was Eve sitting alone under the apple tree, if not because Adam was out hunting for the wooly mammoth or some other of God’s wild creatures? I do not fear temptations of the sort she faced, although I well know that loneliness can lead a woman—or a man—into foolish choices. I shall not be lonely, even without the bustle of Deer Park or my women’s club.
I do have the Model T safely stored in the carriage house, if necessary, and I am an excellent driver—Con brags about me to his friends, who doubt their wives could manage—but the road is challenging at best, and treacherous more often than not. There is talk about the lumber company deeding the land to the state for an official highway, as the blasting and grading needed to extend it in a fashion suitable for automobiles would be terribly expensive. Many in Deer Park advocate for this, but Con urges caution—we must be prepared for the changes a year-round road would bring.
Sarah’s eyes sped over the rest of the entry, as Caro described the family’s plans for the summer, including the high-walled tents Con had found for the guests they hoped would join them for two weeks in July, although naturally her sister and her family would stay in the lodge.
But what caught her eye was the reference to her women’s club. The society?
She took another sip of wine—Holly had made some good finds in Deer Park’s state liquor store. One more benefit of the changes in town. That reminded her of Holly’s idea that Janine reopen the vacant restaurant space. Though the building hadn’t been a hotel for decades, the location was ideal for tourist traffic, by car, foot, or boat.
Then, in midsummer 1922, this.
Over sherry after dinner, we spoke of H. He’s laid out his demands to complete the deal. Con is reluctant; he is convinced that long-term success depends on holding the land and managing the timber. But it has taken this long to force the man to relinquish his interest, and if this is what
it takes …
The H of the early entry, whose “beastly” behavior had triggered the Laceys’ departure? And what deal was Caro referring to?
Mysterious, but delicious, to eavesdrop on her great-grandmother’s most personal thoughts.
“Oh,” she said out loud. “What if she wrote about …” She flipped forward, turning pages until she found the date she was searching for, two weeks before the earliest thank-you note, in February 1924.
Well, we have done it. We have made our first loan, to the Norwegian woman whose home and most of her belongings were destroyed by fire. I know there are some in town who say she deserved her fate, being willing to live with a man to whom she was not married. That is for God to judge, not us. I only wish the sheriff had been willing to arrest the man, but he said it is not arson to destroy one’s own property, even if it is also the home of another, and that the woman had no legal right to the structure, in truth little more than a shack. Who owns the property now that that wicked man has left town, I cannot say, but we could not let the woman starve or go without a roof over her head.
I do not know whether we will be repaid. The possibility does not worry me—the amount was small. My biggest concern is that word spread only to those in genuine need, women of good character but unfortunate circumstances, and not become general knowledge. There will be men who oppose us, who criticize us for being too modern, and I fear such talk would keep women from seeking our help. That’s why it’s so important that Fanny, Mrs. O’D, and Mrs. Burke are part of our efforts; too many women in need would never dare speak to someone they view as above them, but would speak freely to a housekeeper or another woman who works to support herself.
Holly had wondered how much Con knew about the loans. “What do you think?” Sarah asked Bastet. “Even if she used her own money, they seem to have been quite close.” And from her comments in that first journal entry about his refusal to tolerate “beastly” behavior by another man to a young servant, and that he trusted his wife with the Model T, it seemed clear that Cornelius McCaskill had shared his wife’s “modern” views.
“We” could refer to the household staff. But a society implied more than that, didn’t it?
She flipped forward, scanning for other mention of the loans. Here it was, a simple note, two weeks later.
Our faith and our money have been repaid. What a relief.
The next few entries focused on the children, then the subject returned to the loans.
Mrs. Smalley thinks our club should join the state federation, but the rest of us have voted her down. It does us no good to be so public with our mission. I am happy to keep the Lakeside Ladies’ Aid Society—
The society. And Mrs. Smalley—Becca’s great-grandmother?
