Twisted River Page 16

“Emil Kisch, Miss Hazel Vine. Yes, she’s with me, so tame your flirtations now.”

  Emil slammed a hand to his chest with jaw dropped. “Well bowl me over and call me Lucinda, Reuben, you found a lady. This calls for a drink.” He held a finger up to the beverage attendant before narrowing his eyes at Reuben. “This one ain’t mental, is she?”

  “Opposite of.” Reuben accepted two glasses of punch from the attendant and handed one to Hazel. She offered her other hand to Emil. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kisch. I’ve heard wonderful stories about you.”

  “Reuben’s a right fat liar then.” Emil released her hand and tested his own glass of punch with a grimace. “I swear, if that law passes and I’m forced to drink this nonalcoholic filth every day, I’m brewing beer in the cellar.”

  “No one would doubt that.” Reuben tasted the liquid and silently admitted Emil was right. He would much prefer a beer. “Are you out alone, Emil?”

  “Nah, with Jakob and Terry. Oi, Jake!” Emil threw his hand up to flag down the skinny eighteen-year-old. He had snagged some pretty young red-head and was leading her out to the dance floor. “You gots yourself one heck of a crimson fox there!” Emil hollered.

  “Yes, sir.” Jakob thrust his index finger at Emil. “Get yourself onto the dance floor, meine freund, and with a dame who’s not your sister.”

  “Shut it, Jake.”

  Reuben gave him the once over. “You brought Winnie here? Isn’t she a bit young?” It was one thing that, with Emil’s physique, he could probably charm the skirt off a woman five years his senior, but quite another to bring his kid sister along for the ride.

  “Not that sister.” Emil cuffed the back of his neck. “Tena. She’s in the ladies’ lounge.”

  “Oh.” That certainly complicated the situation.

  Wanting to make an uncomfortable situation fleeting and get Hazel back to the dance floor, Reuben swallowed the rest of his drink and swiped Hazel’s empty glass. “Shall we dance again?”

  “Hold up, mate,” Emil cut in. “If you say she’s your girl, then this next set has my name assigned to it. How else will I know if she meets the Emil Kisch stamp of approval?”

  “Emil, there’s no such thing.”

  “There is tonight.” He turned to Hazel with an innocent grin. “Care to join me?”

  She looked to Reuben, blackened lashes fluttering. “Would you mind terribly?”

  “Course not. Long as you come back to me.” Reuben threw Emil a threatening stare. “Don’t you steal her away from me.”

  Emil wrapped Hazel’s hand through his arm and patted Reuben’s shoulder. “No promises, mate. Keep Tena occupied though, won’t you?” With his usually saucy grin, Emil led Hazel away through the throngs as the band readied their instruments for the next rag.

  Rather than allow himself to be taken off guard again, he ordered two fresh glasses of punch and stuck himself directly outside the ladies’ lounge to wait.

  The band had started on their second song and Reuben finished his drink by the time Tena finally emerged. He had expected the girl he used to live with—hair left long around her shoulders, bare feet poking out from beneath her skirt, and not a stitch of rouge or power. Instead, her hair was pinned up in curls and her eyelids painted the same mauve as a twilight sky.

  He held up the punch glass, tossed on a smile, and approached her before she hit the main hall. “Evening, Tena. Refreshment?”

  Tena twirled, her ebony dress ever so subtly flaring around her ankles. “Reuben!” She released a tiny gasp and upon bending nearer, he noticed her eyes were swollen and glassy.

  “Were you crying in the lounge?”

  “Goodness, no. I’m here to dance and forget all that other mess. Is that punch for me?”

  He handed her the full glass. “Dancing? You’ve not even reached half mourning, have you?”

  “Mourning or no, it doesn’t change the state of affairs.” She swallowed some punch and grimaced. “That’s awful. Maggie married Hugo Frye today, did you know?”

  “I did, and I would appreciate if this was the last we spoke of it.” Reuben knew all too well about Maggie’s current marital status, and he suspected Tena would be none too happy if she heard how he stormed the Frye house earlier that evening. Curse Ahern and Albers for maintaining a dry hall. He could use a drink and a cigar and the lips of his new pretty lady. Except Hazel was currently being squired by his sixteen-year-old annoyance of a friend. So, on second thought, curse that blasted Emil too.

  “Of course,” she agreed. “Would you care to dance instead?”

  “Of course,” his lips answered before his brain caught up. Even talking to her went against the carefully laid rules he set out for himself when he left the Kischs. But they were already here, weren’t they? If one dance would make her happy ... “I’ll dance with you, but,” he amended, “your lips are sealed. You won’t weave your magic and convince me to return to the Kischs.”

  “I know.” Tena wrapped her fingers around his, her own eyes focused on the cinch of his tie. “I truly wasn’t planning to say a word.”

  Ditching the glasses on a nearby table, Reuben directed Tena to one of the few remaining spots at the edge of the wood-planked dance floor. Piano strains kicked off the quick beats of an American tune Reuben heard on the Vines’ radio for the first time only two days before. Luckily for him, despite the song being new, the steps were not. Tugging Tena close, he led off into the dance, joining the flow of the crowd: one-two-two-one. With a startled laugh, she tightened her grip as he whisked her away, for once managing not to fall over himself in the process. That was until the music shifted to the first song he and Tena danced to that May Day in Southampton.

  “So, it’s a right awful thing when a man has to ask a woman this on the first time out,” Reuben had admitted in an attempt to laugh off his mortification, “but do you know the steps?”

  “You compliment me,” Tena replied. “I dare say Charles would never have the courage to admit he didn’t know.”

  “Then Charles is only as foolish as I am.” He extended his hand to her with his usual winning smile. “Won’t you lead me, m’lady?”

  Laughing, she laid her hand in his. “Why yes, good sir.”

  The same recognizable melody played in Cave Hall was now paired with foreign steps even Tena didn’t recognize. When he spun them to the right, the nearest couple spun left, slamming them off the edge of the dance floor. Somehow he managed to yank Tena back before she pitched over a man on his way to the balcony.

  “Careful.” Reuben helped her back onto the wooden planks where the other dancers made wide berth to avoid them.

  “I believe it was supposed to be one left, two right,” Tena commented. She watched the other couples as they turned. “Now we move forward one, forward two, back and turn—watch out!” She tugged Reuben in the opposite direction from the path he headed, narrowing avoiding another collision. “I had forgotten how sorry a dancer you were.”

  Reuben released her waist to press two fingers to her lips. “We’re not talking, remember?” He tracked to the left, this time keeping in step with the room. Another pace across the floor and the song slowed to silence then raised the enthusiastic applause of the hall.

  “How ’bout a lame duck?” The bandmaster called from the stage.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what that means, but let’s try it!” Tena cried. She squeezed his hand, and her lips eased up at the corners. “Shall we see how many more injuries we incur?”

  “Ah ...” Reuben craned his neck to locate Hazel. She now stood near Emil, Luella, and Stanley, the former three dissolved into fits of laughter when Stanley whooped at something Emil said. Emil brushed his lapels with the most cocksure grin and bowed to Stanley. Still giggling, Hazel’s eyes roamed the floor until they found Reuben. She extended her hand towards him with a playful wiggle.

  Dropping Tena’s grip, Reuben gestured towards the stage. “I’ve been summoned.”

  Tena followed the direction of
his gaze. “Are you here with someone?” she asked in surprise.

  Reuben nodded. So much for not talking. “That’s Hazel. We’ve only been official for a few hours.”

  “Oh. Well, she’s positively adorable.” Then the band dropped a three-quarter beat and Emil tugged Hazel’s outstretched hand back in line. She offered Reuben a helpless shrug and turned into the dance. Tena laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Perhaps you should worry about Emil stealing her from you?”

  “Ha. Emil’s not any more threat than you are.”

  With the upbeat, they were off again in the cacophony of swishing bodies and Alexander’s Ragtime Band.

  Turn, turn, twist. He spun Tena back in the flurry of dresses and tap of heels.

  Twist, step, step. Her dress no longer fashioned the outfit of a near-widow, but the slimming cut of a seasoned debutante, igniting elegance at a ball like the one they met at two years ago.

  Her back curve fit beneath his palm until he held her close like the day her father died. Those glimmering irises held his tonight just as they had then. And within their touch, they both forgot hurts they were supposed to hold onto.

  “And now a waltz!” declared the bandmaster, motioning for the change.

  Tena paused to catch her breath within the slower temple switch. “Reuben? This girl you’re here with—”

  “Hazel.”

  “Yes, Hazel. Are things quite serious?”

  “I believe you agreed not to speak.”

  “I only promised no mention of the Kischs. So tell me, do you honestly fancy her?”

  “‘I profess not to know how women’s hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration.’” At her curious expression, he directed her to the floor’s edge and struggled with something in his jacket pocket. He yanked at it until finally he produced a small bound volume, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. “From my latest read. I literally came across that line just this morning. Interesting how there’s a line for every occasion.”

  “But if everything you say is a line, what then can be believed?”

  “To quote Aristotle?”

  “No. Tena Archer original.”

  He wrestled the novel back into his pocket and returned them to the dance floor. “You never question my need to carry literature to unnecessary occasions. Tena, I do believe that might be your best trait.”

  “Reuben ...” She gave him that look when she knew he was stalling. What should he say about Hazel? He had avoided the topic with Tena nicely through three numbers. He hadn’t tried to hide it but purposely hadn’t flaunted it either as he might in front of Stanley or Earhart.

  Did he fancy Hazel? There was certainly no doubt he enjoyed her presence in his life. She was simple and uncomplicated and his most enthusiastic fan in all things. Diligently, she read each of his obituaries before he sent them to print, marking up errors and commenting on what needed work. Like a true fanatic, she clipped each one for her family to read at breakfast. The day after he moved in, she baked him pie simply because he asked.

  It was an incredible feeling, to be honestly attracted to someone, to consider what could happen if they stepped outside the bounds of friendship. After so much time caught in the Maggie Archer whirlwind, it felt freeing. He wanted to run across the dance floor and kiss Hazel. Not one hidden away in dark stairwells, but in front of everyone, to light a fire and leave them both breathless. Maybe even be arrested by the morality squad. If only to see what it would be like. To know that he wasn’t making this up in his head like so many other things he once assumed were real.

  If he considered it start to finish, someday she could make a charming wife.

  Then why was he hesitant to tell Tena everything he told himself? Her funny little lip hitched up in that way it did when she doubted whatever he was about to say next. She always seemed to know when he was about to walk around the truth. Or dance around it. Or climb a tree, swing from a vine, and into a lake to avoid it.

  What would hallucinatory Mira have said?

  Nothing good. Don’t even travel there, Reuben. That’s why you care for Hazel. That’s exactly the reason why.

  “I do fancy her,” he admitted cautiously. “Hazel helps me forget I have a past. She’s not tied to my other life and if nothing else, in the time I’m with her we have an enjoyable time. I could become used to that again.”

  Tena’s lip dropped back into place and at the same time, her eyes widened minutely, the golden shine flickering. Reuben loosened his grip, unaware he had been clutching her hand with such fervor. “I know you miss Charles, and I’m sorry if hearing this hurts you.”

  Shaking her head, she reached up to tease a loose strand of hair back into her bun. “It does a little. Except I understand how you feel. Everything reminds me of Charles. It would be nice to be with someone who doesn’t.” The warmth of her fingers squeezed his bicep, their touch as reassuring as her smile was heartbreaking.

  The band’s final note broke the spell to audience applause. From the corner of his eye, Reuben caught Earhart bend Rosalea low before swinging her up into his arms, both of their breaths tapered from the dance. With an equally difficult breath, Tena released Reuben’s hand.

  His hand cupped her cheek then, his thumb hesitating at the corner of her lip. “You’ll find someone, Tena. Think about Maggie. No matter how hopeless it seems, we all find someone eventually.”

  Tena stepped out of his touch, her eyes seeking out his shoes instead. “I don’t think we should do this again.”

  “Do what again?” Emil hustled over with Hazel, both bearing sweat-glistened faces.

  Tena regarded him with a well-recovered smile. “Dance. Reuben is still as lousy as ever. I’m not sure lessons will do him much good.”

  Hazel sidled up behind Reuben to slide her arm through his. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “Oh, they’ll have to!” she trilled. “Now that I’ve been here, I’m coming back with the girls every week.” She thrust out her arm to clasp Tena’s elbow with a quick giggle. “You-must-come-too! Every Friday.”

  Tena twisted the long strand of her necklace around her finger. “I’m not certain. You don’t know me.”

  “We’ll get to know you. Let’s begin with me.” She gestured to herself. “I’m Hazel and of course, Mr. Kisch has told me how you know Reuben.” She waved to the rest of their group as they joined them. “Phoebe, Luella, Stanley, Tyler—”

  “My, who’s this pretty little thing?” Earhart asked as he approached with Rosalea on his arm.

  “Not yours,” Rosalea said.

  With a swoop, Earhart palmed the small of her back and leaned in to kiss his fiancée’s temple. “You’re adorable when you haven’t the foggiest notion what you’re talking about.” He smiled at Tena. “I’m Earhart, and this is my sensible fiancée, Rosalea.”

  Rosalea rolled her eyes, pushing him away to tilt her gloved hand against her hip. “Do join us, Tena. The good Lord knows we could use a few outsiders to even out the newspaper ladies in this group. Oh good, they’re starting another set.”

  With a rap at the podium, the bandmaster called for the room’s attention, announcing the evening’s fourth dance set: a foxtrot, followed by a one-step, a waltz, and another swing at the new Grizzly. “So empty those drinks, gentlemen, and lead your sweetheart back to the floor.”

  Hazel’s warm brown eyes rose to meet Reuben’s through thick lashes, her voice sweet in his ear as she cast Tena a momentary sideways glance. “It don’t matter what she says. I think you’re a fine dancer, and I’m pleased as punch to have you lead me.”

  Tena turned to Emil, murmuring something about needing to cool her throat. Now in heated baseball discussion with Earhart, he waved her off with instructions to bring back two. She walked away without a backwards glance, retreating in the direction of the entry hall rather than the refreshment bar.

  Don’t go after her. Reuben ordered himself. He would speak to Emil instead. Explain how complicated the situation bec
ame by him bringing Tena here. Once he made his case ...

  Slim fingers entwined with his. “What’s the matter?” Hazel asked. “We’ve been havin’ such fun, haven’t we?”

  Tena disappeared through the doorway. Let her go. The Archer sisters can’t be your concern anymore. Them or their children.

  He bent nearer Hazel, stealing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve heard, my dear Hazel, that the morality squad is on the hunt for scandalous dancers. What should we do?”

  Hazel giggled, “Oh, dear, I suppose then we shouldn’t let them catch us.” She tipped her chin to kiss him. “Down with the morality squad?”

  “Hear, hear, Hazel,” Reuben laughed. “Hear, hear.”

  With a final glance over his shoulder, he pulled Hazel close and retreated into her frivolous fantasy.

  ~~~

  On Maggie’s wedding night, she slept without her husband and dreamt of another man. The same man she glimpsed amidst the trees in Shaw’s Garden. Someone in one way familiar, yet she could not place. So tall she could crane her neck and still he loomed above her—seven, perhaps eight feet at least. No normal man could be so tall.

  His mustache was flecked with grey, but he was still obviously young, no more than thirty, with the most pleasant smile. Cupped in his hands lay a flower, a lush violet bloom she could not identify.

  He offered it into her reaching grasp. “For you I name my most beautiful flower. My beautiful Magdalena.”

  EIGHTEEN

  November 9, 1912 –

  Four months later

  Squatting around her ever burgeoning pregnancy, Maggie wiped the splattered egg from the kitchen floor then leveraged the sink’s edge to heave herself back to standing. The window’s afternoon sun drew the only warmth in a frigid house. Wringing the soiled towel out under the tap, she squared against the pain resting above her hips then recited her daily mantra for the past four months: “This life is not mine. It’s all a dream. When I next blink, all will be upright again.”

  One hand instantly slid to her stomach. It won’t be there. It won’t be there, she repeated although she knew such an event defied plausibility. Please, she begged whoever or whatever might be listening. Please, take me away from here.