Part 23

          As much as I'd like to talk with them... this is not a moment I can intrude on.  For the millionth time with this family, I wish there were something I could do.  Sighing heavily, I sit back on the tiled pathway, and lean back on my hands.  It's so beautiful and peaceful here, it's not fair that it should have seen such sorrow.
          "Can I help you, miss?"
          I jump half a mile, whipping my head around toward the unexpected voice.  It's a young man - not Jacob, sadly - tall and slim, maybe eighteen or twenty years old, with strikingly bright blue eyes.  Surprisingly long light brown hair, and an awfully gorgeous face.  (What is it around this place, that everyone's so attractive? ...alright, genetics mostly, and then discriminating when hiring staff, but still.  In the middle of nowhere?)  He looks a little familiar, but I can't place him...
          "Uh. No, I'm uh..."
          He laughs, brushing his hair back from his face, and reaching down with one hand to help me up.  "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.  Were you here about the cook's position?  I'm afraid it was filled last week."
          "I... I'm sorry to hear that."  I'm a grubby mess from all my weeding earlier, obviously I'm not going to be taken for company of the master and mistress of the house!  (I'm a little amazed Jacob ever let me indoors on my other visits, to be honest.)  "It's such a beautiful place," I add, looking around as if for the first time - which it is, for this little section of the garden, at least.  "I'd love to be able to spend more time here."
          "Aye, it's quite a hidden jewel out here.  No-one around had heard of these folks a few years ago, but the minute I set foot on the grounds - which were already pretty well along even before the Missus moved in - well, I knew that even if the work was hard, the place would more than make up for it."
          "You're not the gardener, are you?"
          "Lord, no!  I don't think they'd have given that post to someone as young as me!  Old George takes care of the grounds, though I lend a hand when he needs a younger, stronger back to move something.  I'm in charge of the horses - and a beautiful lot they are, the master had already picked out a fine first pair before I got here.  White as snow, they are, though I'll admit it's beastly some days to keep them that way.  But here I'm going on, and I haven't introduced myself.  Joseph Standworth, at your service, miss."  He bows from the waist, and, alright, I'm a little smitten.  While I'd go crazy wearing some of the dresses I've seen Celestine and Cora in, I have to admit, there are some traditions and manners I wish lasted into my own day.
          "Kimberly Bennett," I reply.  And it occurs to me that I should curtsy, but I haven't tried since I first read Little Women at age eight, and anyway it would look ridiculous with me not being in a skirt.  So I make a clumsy little ducking bow, but Joseph doesn't seem to mind.  Joseph!  Horses!  It must have been him in that newspaper clipping I saw in the stable - though the image was so vague, I'm surprised I'm catching any resemblance now.
          "Well, I'm sure it wouldn't be anything like my place to invite you to stay - but I could give you a sort of meandering escort off the grounds, so's you could see a bit of the gardens while you're here."
"Oh, that would be lovely, thank you!  ...I apologize for looking such a fright, I'd stumbled on something just before you came up."
          "There's plenty of hidden little turns and odd corners around this place, I don't wonder that you'd get a bit lost trying to come in the back entrance and find your way to the house.  Though, I'll admit, I'm not sure you're dressed to quite what they'd expect for a young lady, even as a cook."  I can tell he's trying to say this as tactfully as he can, the poor kid.
          "...well, I wasn't really here about the position.  I was..." I'm racking my brain trying to think of a time a woman might conceivably maybe have been in pants in this time. "...on a ride through the woods, and saw the fence, then just had to see what was on the other side of it.  It's so unusual looking, and I didn't know anyone lived 'way out here.  And then, well, how could I help looking around in such an Eden?"
          He laughs and nods - we're walking back toward the creek, heading for the red bridge I think.  Though I'm not entirely sure, I'm seeing all kinds of smaller paths that have completely vanished in my time.  "Can't say that I blame you.  But you're not from town, are you?  I haven't been over there much this past year or so, but my folks keep me up to date on new arrivals when I visit."
          "No, I'm from Milltown, my family moved in just a month or so ago."
          "Bit of a long ride on your own, isn't it?"
          Oh my God, I haven't invented stories this fast... probably ever? Um.  "Not really.  I grew up further west, and there wasn't anyone around for absolutely miles, so my sister and I grew up taking pretty long rides on our own."  Substitute bikes for horses, and I'm not really lying.  Much.  Which makes it much easier to sound convincing.  But I need to get him off the subject of me, I'm not going to waste my short time here by lying to people.  "I've been in to Mapleton once or twice with my parents, but we're still pretty far outside of it here, aren't we?"
          "The Master and Missus really don't have much to do with the townfolk, no more than they can help.  When they're out for a drive, it's always out into the hills, I don't think they've ever had me take them into town.  They'll have visitors once in awhile, but not often, and it's always someone from far out of town.  All the way from New York City last month, even someone from Paris, oh, probably about a year ago now."
          "Such a long way!  They must have been family, to be willing to travel that far?"
          "Well, the Missus has had a bit of family out once or twice, though they're from somewhere else in the state, I can't recall the town.  But I've never heard a thing about the Master's folks, he keeps pretty well to himself.  Oh he's a kind and generous man, and a great artist, too.  But for all the learned things he can talk about at length, I've never heard a word about his family or more than a hint of his past, nor have any of the rest of the staff.  Which I guess isn't a surprise, I wouldn't expect them to sit down with one of us over a drink!  Maybe it's just that they're so new to town, most families here have known each other for generations."
          "You know, I don't think I've even heard, what's the name of the family that lives here?"
          "Mason," he replies.  "Though it's just the Master and Missus so far - but they're young yet, I'm sure there will be a whole little brood---" he stops mid-sentance, remembering the scene he must've caught a glimpse of just as I did.  "---well, someday, I'm sure there will be children around the place."
          "...I heard someone crying not far from me, but I didn't want to intrude.  It was Mrs. Mason then?  I think I've heard her name before, now that you've mentioned it."
          He nods, biting his lip.  "She's such a slim and delicate thing, it makes us all worry for her health.  One of hers was stillborn, the other came too early.  Such a kind and gentle woman, it's not right that she should have to suffer like that."
          "No, I can't even imagine how much that must hurt, poor thing."
          He lifts his head, looking behind us, and I suspect he's looking to see if Meres has returned yet, as he'd promised Celestine.  "Master tries so hard to please her, but there's just nothing a man can do in that case.  Not that he takes any comfort in that, he's as distraught as she is whenever she's the least unhappy."
          I refrain from snorting.  I remember hearing that kings often assumed the fault with their offspring or lack thereof was the woman's fault, guess that's an attitude that was a little more common than I'd have thought.  But then, the actual pregnancy and birth is all on the woman, so I can't entirely blame them for thinking so.
          We have, in fact, reached the red bridge, and it really is striking.  The geometric pattern on the tiles that run along the sides of the clear stream below are vibrant and bright.  There are flowers blooming all along the banks here, many spilling over to kiss the water's surface.  White irises and flowering grasses, and... well, an awful lot of things, most of which I can't identify at this distance.  And that's not--- oh it is, it's such a tiny little baby weeping willow tree at the bend!  My head swims a little - it's such a clear reminder of how many years lie between this time and my own.
          Joseph puts a steadying hand on my arm - we'd just taken a step onto the bridge, and I must've stumbled.  "Careful now - though I suppose if you fell in, it'd clear the mud from you," he adds with a sly grin.
          I laugh.  "True!  I should really pay closer attention when I'm walking, I'm so clumsy some days..."
          "But I hadn't asked you - which way did you come in?  I don't want you to get lost again, trying to get back to your horse."
          I start to scramble for an answer, what would be plausible, I don't even know where, or if, there are gates other than the main one.