Seashells Ch. 03

Story Info
He was playing with fire...
6.8k words
4.74
12.2k
11

Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/31/2012
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Copyright @ calibeachgirl

Thanks to estragon and deepblue

*

Chapter 8

"What is this?" he demanded, finding his voice at last. "You say you're leaving? But that's impossible, totally unacceptable! I just arrived here a few days ago and I am depending on you to help me. Surely it's not necessary for you to leave now, before breakfast? How will you even reach Carmel? You can't walk it."

"I'm afraid it is. It's not possible for me to stay. I have to leave." Georgia spoke quietly... her eyes downcast, not daring to meet his eyes... she knew she would be lost if she did. "I don't wish to inconvenience you but I cannot see that my presence here is all that necessary. You have no need for a nanny, as you must admit, and your friend is teaching Ellen and Liza how to cook."

"Maybe, not for a nanny, Georgia... but, I have a need for you. You're the one who's held the house together all these months since my uncle died, as far as I can see. And, if you leave now, I am quite sure it will fall apart." Jack was silent a moment, pulling his fingers through his hair and looking at her in confusion. "Look here, Miss Lincoln," he said at last, making an effort to appear businesslike. "There must be some way to keep you here. I'll do whatever it takes, I promise. I'll double your salary, triple it even, to begin with. How's that?"

"But my salary is not an issue, sir. An increase would be welcome, I don't deny, but..."

"Then, consider it increased. I'm sure you're not being paid half of what you've deserved, considering everything you've done. Name your own terms, only say that you'll stay on here for at least a few weeks more. If you still feel you have to leave then, then of course I'll accept your notice. But, please, you can't leave now. You seem to be the only one who knows anything about running this place. Please, reconsider." He was determined to say anything to keep her there.

Georgia knew she should just give a firm and decisive refusal. The longer she waited, the greater the likelihood that her resolve to leave him would weaken, and she would give way to temptation. She knew she would be doomed if she stayed.

But even as she reminded herself of how she felt, she knew it was too late. Whatever strength she had disappeared as he looked at her. She tried to tell herself it was her duty to stay since he needed her so much. It would not be Christian to abandon him in his time of need. Whatever excuses she could think of ran through her heart.

"Well, I don't know," she said hesitantly. "If you really need me..."

"I do need you," said Jack, with such sincerity she forgot everything she had been thinking. Both of them knew there was another meaning to what he had said and it lay there between them like a burning flame. Their kiss lay between them, at once pulling them together, at once pushing them apart.

"If you really need me, I suppose I could stay a while longer." A slight smile passed her lips.

"Good... now that we've settled you're not leaving, there's no reason why you should not join me for breakfast. Please, sit down and I'll pour you a cup of coffee."

"Thank you," she said, sinking slowly into her chair. "I would like something to eat." Her dream had taken a toll... she was still exhausted.

A few minutes later, Ellen brought in a plate of scrambled eggs, hash brown potatoes and a breakfast roll. Jack wondered again why Georgia had gone to such lengths to make herself unattractive. Before he realized what he was doing, he asked the question aloud.

"Why are you so determined to look unattractive?" he asked and then mentally kicked himself, knowing how rude his words were. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

"What do you mean, sir?" she replied, knowing full well what he meant.

More embarrassed than ever, he gestured at her clothing. "Why would you wear such clothes when I've bought you new dresses and the like?"

"Most employers do not wish their servants to look too fine, sir," she said. "It makes their wives uncomfortable."

"I suppose not, but that situation is over and as you may have noticed, I don't have a wife to be jealous. As you stated, I have no need for a nanny but I do have need for a... a friend, someone who can help me. Now, after you've finished eating, why don't you go change and I'll meet you in the library and we can go over the books."

"Yes, sir..."

"Jack..."

She hesitated. "Yes... Jack."

Ever since he had arrived, she had found herself infatuated with him, even though she had tried hard to repress her feelings. Georgia told herself that this desire would have to be forgotten if she was to work for him. It would only lead to despair and heartbreak and if she gave in, who knows what the result would be? She couldn't afford to have a child out of wedlock, and marriage to a white man was unthinkable, no, impossible. She needed to preserve a proper decorum at all costs or it would be the death of her.

As charming as he was, she had no intention to succumb to his charms. She would be a fool if she did. And yet, except for that one excruciating wonderful kiss, he had done nothing improper. She was torn. As much as she was afraid of him, as a woman she wanted his attention.

"I wish to go to Monterey again and hire another girl. How did that work before? Is there a service that my uncle used or did he put an advertisement in the newspaper?"

"There was a service he used. He was most adamant about hiring colored girls to work in the house. I'm not sure why. Perhaps he thought he could save money, I don't know."

"What do you want to do?" Jack asked, watching her expression change as she pondered the question.

"I don't understand your question."

"Do you wish to hire another colored girl or someone else?"

"I don't know if a white woman would want to work with colored girls." She set it before him, letting it sit there.

"I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps we should just stay the way things are, then. Do you have a list of any new things we might need?"

"Yes, as you asked, along with this one from Mr. Doyle. He says we're going to need more flour for he wishes to start making other things besides bread and pies. He also wants corn meal and more ice for the ice box. He's written a list."

"Well, that shouldn't be too much trouble, then. Please write down Milky Way candy bars. I forgot to get some last time we were in town as well as Hershey's Kisses. And, I want to tell the grocery store to bring more cream and ice so we can make some ice cream. And of course, we'll need rock salt. If it's not written down, I'm afraid I forget." Subconsciously, he touched the back of his head where he had been wounded during the War.

"Yes, sir... uh, Jack. Is there anything else?"

"Do you know how to... of course, not. Ask Bill to come here for a moment, will you?"

As she walked out of the library, Jack couldn't help but watch her as she left. He felt himself becoming aroused and chagrined, crossed his legs and scooted closer under the table.

"Ah, there you are, Bill. I was listening to the Betty Crocker show the other day on the radiola and you didn't happen to find a cookbook or something in the kitchen, did you?"

"Not really. I've been just using what I learned during the War and the Boy Scouts. We really could use a cookbook. I'm running out of ideas. We can't eat steak and pie forever, you know."

"Great. We need to hire another girl for the house and maybe a cook, too, unless you plan on staying in the kitchen forever."

"I think that Ellen and Liza will do a creditable job of it once they learn. I'll have to teach them, though, because they don't read very well. Ellen didn't have much schooling and Liza, practically none at all."

"Do you want to go with Georgia, then, to Monterey and look into it? I know you've been cooped up here and haven't had a chance to get to town."

"Thanks. I'd like that. When?"

"Say, tomorrow morning? Then, you'd have time to get back before dark. Check the list you gave Georgia and add anything else you think we might need."

The rest of the day went quickly and Jack discussed with Bill his idea of starting or buying a vineyard in Carmel Valley. He reasoned that an existing one would be easily purchased due to Prohibition and failing that, land. If he had to start from new, by the time the vines would be producing he believed that the insanity would be over and wine would once again be available. In the meantime, they could sell grapes for jelly.

He admitted, though, he didn't know the first thing about growing grapes and would have to find someone who was knowledgeable enough to be successful. It was another thing to add to his growing list of things to do.

The next morning, Bill and Georgia left for Carmel to place new orders for food and then to Monterey to hire at least one new girl, possibly two.

"You must be joking," Bill said, shocked, when Georgia mentioned possibly leaving Windcliff and seeking employment somewhere else. "You must not speak like that. He has offered you a generous salary as you say, and it would be foolish not to stay on. He's a good man, Georgia. Has he done anything to make you want to leave?"

How could she explain to Bill that she was attracted to Jack and worried that she would eventually do something to her detriment?

"I suppose a few more weeks won't matter. I've already spent three years there."

While she had misgivings, they were about herself and her feelings for Jack. She remembered the losing battle she had after they had kissed and could only see herself surrendering to him if they continued.

"I'm glad you think so. I've known Jack for a long time and he's a good man. He would never do anything to hurt you. As a matter of fact, I know he holds you in high regard and is greatly impressed with your skill and ability, especially under such trying conditions that you had to endure during the illnesses that took his family's lives."

With a forced smile, she looked at Bill as he drove along the road north to Carmel. "I shouldn't have brought this up. Please, Mr. Doyle, don't say anything."

"Georgia, your secret is safe with me. I won't say anything but please, don't leave. I think you're the reason we're still here rather than returning to San Diego or San Francisco."

After stopping at the grocery store in Carmel, they continued north to Monterey where Georgia directed him to the employment agency she had been hired from.

There were several girls waiting in the office but Bill wasn't impressed with any of them. "Isn't there anyone else?"

"This is a small town... not much call for servants that haven't already been hired," said the woman running the agency.

"Any suggestions?"

"There's an orphanage about two miles out of town run by the Sisters of Good Hope. They might have someone ready to leave. I know they train them there and we've had several of their girls get positions with us."

"Thanks. A couple of miles, you say?"

"Yes, just take the main road toward Salinas. It's on the south side. There's a sign."

"Well, what do you think?"

"About the orphanage? If you want someone now, it's a good idea. And if the sisters have already trained someone, that's even better."

"All right, let's try it," he said, as he drove the automobile toward Salinas. Soon, they found the turnoff to the orphanage and after a while came to the front of a large building.

"Here goes nothing," Bill said as he got out into the hot, still air and approached the heavy wooden front door. He knocked and waited, occasionally looking back at Georgia who had remained in the car's diminishing shade.

The door slowly opened and a nun in heavy dark-brown robe peered out from the dim, cool interior. "Yes?" she asked.

"Uh, good afternoon. My name is William Doyle and I was told that there might be girls looking for placement as cooks and maids. Is that correct?"

The nun inspected him like a squirming bug under a microscope.

Bill, needing to break the silence, went on, "I can present references, if you wish. I represent John Crawford who inherited his uncle's estate; perhaps you've heard of it, Windcliff? It's along the coast south of Carmel. Anyway, we have need of a cook and a maid and were told you train girls for work. May I come in?"

She glanced past him to Georgia sitting in the now hot Model T. Bill followed her gaze until he saw what had caught her attention.

"That is Georgia. She worked as a nanny and now she is helping us staff the house. May she come in? It's becoming rather hot out there."

The nun hesitated for only a moment. "Yes, please come in," she said, pulling open the door while Bill quickly went to get Georgia.

"Wait here," said the nun as she disappeared down a long hallway, her rosary beads clicking together as she went.

"Mr. Doyle, we usually work through placement services," said the elderly Mother Superior.

"I understand that, Sister, but I am in need of help now. Like I said, I can bring references from the sheriff if you feel that's necessary. You can come and see the house if you wish. We're about an hour south of Carmel by automobile. If you wish, you can ask Miss Lincoln, here, anything you want about... well, anything you want."

"Very well, why don't you wait outside and I'll come and get you when I'm finished with your..."

"I guess you could call her our housekeeper. Thank you." Bill left the two women and went outside into the heat of the late afternoon California sunshine. He pulled out his pocket watch, checked the time and walked toward the side of the building, curious to see what lay beyond his sight, his shoes scuffing up the dry dust of the yard. Turning the corner, he saw several children playing under some willow trees while others were tending to three long rows of tomato plants. He stood there for a while, seeing how they interacted with one another.

"Mr. Doyle?"

He spun around, startled. "Yes, Sister?"

It was a different nun, much younger this time, a novice he thought, all in white though still robed up to her face. "Mother Superior will speak with you now."

"Thank you." He stomped his feet free of the courtyard dust and followed her back into the building, this time from a side door, stepping around two little girls playing with a doll. "They seem happy," he said to her.

"It depends. If they are very young when they come here, they don't miss their family too much and eventually they forget, but if they are older, then it is a hard journey they must face."

"Ah, Mr. Doyle, thank you for rejoining us. I have had an interesting discussion with your housekeeper and have decided to help you out. We have three girls who are old enough to consider. I have them waiting in the refectory. Follow me, please."

Bill gave an inquisitive look toward Georgia but was only greeted with a smile.

"Mr. Doyle, this is Susan Fuller. She turns eighteen next month, can read, write and cook quite well." The nun indicated the dark-haired girl standing to the left. "We were hoping that she would join us but that is not meant to be."

The girl moved away from the other two and stood by herself, watching him as closely as he was watching her. Bill looked at Georgia, hoping for some sign that she approved the girl, or not, but was just met with that same smile.

"This is Betty Lewis, she is also going to be eighteen," the nun said, pointing out a shorter blond-haired girl. "She can also read and write but doesn't do arithmetic very well. She is a hard worker and has a good spirit."

"And this is Catherine Grant. She is nineteen and a good worker but doesn't read nor write well. I'm sure that one of these girls would do you well." The girl stood there, her lower lip trembling. Bill's heart went out to her, obviously the last choice out of the group.

"May I speak with Miss Lincoln for a moment, please?"

"Of course. Girls, wait over there and we'll speak with you shortly."

Bill took Georgia by the arm and they walked to the other end of the dining room to talk. "Well, what do you think? You spoke with the nun. What did she say?"

"She wanted to know if you and Jack were good, Christian men and how did you treat me and the other girls and if we had our own rooms and if you had ever..."

"Whoa... slow down. Come to the point. What did you tell her?"

"Well, we're here, so she must have been satisfied with what I said. She did indicate she was surprised that I was..."

"Colored?"

"Yes..."

"Did that bother you?"

"Not as much as I thought. I think she was more interested in how you and Jack treated us than anything else."

"Well, what do you think we should do?"

"Bill, it's your choice, after all. I noticed that she did present them in a certain order, though."

"All right, then." He walked back toward the elderly nun and the three girls. "If it's agreeable to you, I'd like to take all three with me but it's late, now, and there's no way for us to get back tonight and we still need a hotel room for the night."

"I see. I suggest that you stay the night with us and then you can have a fresh start in the morning."

Bill was surprised at the offer and was sure that it wasn't given lightly. He was sure that it would have been hard, if not impossible, finding a hotel room that late in the day, especially with Georgia accompanying him.

"That's very kind of you, Sister, thank you."

"Good. Then, we'll see you for vespers and dinner when the bell tolls. Sister Anne Marie will show you where that is."

That evening, after evening prayers, Bill and Georgia sat in the dining room, watching all the girls file in from the chapel. "This should be interesting," he said.

The Mother Superior used the occasion to allow the three girls to serve them dinner, showcasing whatever skills they had. He could tell that Catherine, or Cathy as he was already thinking of her, was extremely nervous, as the chicken noodle soup she was carrying spilled slightly over the edges of the bowls and down the sides. There was a look of panic on her face as she realized what had happened and she put the crockery down harder than she wanted, making a loud rap against the wooden table.

"Cathy," Bill started to say, his arm reaching for hers. "Don't be nervous; there's nothing to worry about."

"Yes... yes, sir, thank you, sir." She backed up, retreating as quickly as she could and headed back into the kitchen.

"This soup is damn... I mean, very good. If this is Susan's work, then I think we're in for some good food from here on out. That's great."

"Yes, it IS very good. Simple but good," Georgia replied. "I am sure she will work out quite well."

"Do you think that Ellen will feel put out... I mean, we're bringing in someone else, now."

"I think the two of them could work together. At least, I hope so. We haven't asked them how they would feel working with colored girls."

"They've seen you; it's not like it's a secret."

"Yes, but the real world is often different from what we wish to see. You need to ask them."

"Actually, YOU need to ask them for they all are going to be answerable to you."

"What? I told you I was going to leave soon enough... as soon as the house is in order."

"Georgia, who knows how long it will take to put the house into order, especially if we start to entertain guests?"

"Guests? You are considering guests?"

"See, even you accept the fact that the house is not ready for guests. Let's not argue about it. Look, there's cake."

"Betty, isn't it?" he asked, as the girl set down two small plates with a simple chocolate cake.

"Yes, sir."

"If you agree to come with us, Miss Lincoln would be your supervisor. Do you have a problem with that?"

"This's her?"

"Yes."

The girl stood there for a long moment, looking at Georgia. "Would you be treating me fairly?"

12