What Tangled Webs Page 6

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  Mr. Galloway ran the shop and he spoke as Jacob entered.

  “Where have you been, lad?” he said.

  Jacob dropped the bundle on the counter and grabbed the old man by the shoulders. He smiled as wide as his face would allow.

  “I was speaking to the future Mrs. Kane, old man.”

  Galloway grimaced and gently shoved him away.

  “Any lass that’d stand near the likes of you ‘as lost her sense of smell,” Galloway said.

  “Ah. You are not so sweet smellin’ yourself,” he said.

  Galloway sniffed his armpits, then checked his breath.

  “Does she have a first name, son…this Mrs. Kane?”

  “Caitlin Delaney’s her name. Do you know her?”

  “Caitlin, eh? Aye. I know of her family.”

  Jacob’s eyes widened, he grabbed the old man’s elbow.

  “Can you tell me where to find her?” Jacob asked.

  Galloway paused and then frowned.

  “Ugh. You’re out of your depth, lad. Much too pretty a girl for you,” he said with a glint in his eye. “And too young. She’s but seventeen? Eighteen?”

  “She is eighteen years old. And I am not out of my depth.”

  “Y’ar unless she is a different Caitlin Delaney than the one I know. Of the fishing Delaney’s and not the barrister’s daughter.”

  Jacob grumbled a moment, knowing there was truth to Galloway’s words. But the man could’ve used some tact, he thought.

  “Right. Then I suppose I’ll just sell my catches elsewhere.”

  “Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

  Galloway gave him directions and Jacob hung on every word.

  “Too forward to just knock on her door, eh?” Galloway said.

  “Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “Maybe.”

  He needed a simpler, less agressive approach. First he had to go home and wash off the stink.

  “Thank you, sir,” Jacob said as he left.

  Galloway held up a hand and shook his head.

  Jacob ran home. Two miles or more passed beneath his feet, but there was daylight burning and he couldn’t wait another day. He stripped and put his clothes in the wash basin with some soap. Then he scrubbed clean with cold water, for there was no time to heat it, and put on fresh clothes. He would be back in town in no time.

  He wandered through the streets in the market district looking at each vendor and pondered his dilemma. He noticed the colors were more vibrant, the smells of the market had more depth. The people seemed more alive. Then he saw her. She was walking right towards him. He ducked into a store that sold general wares and waited for Caitlin to pass by its window. He wanted to surprise her. When she was three steps past, he opened the door and caught up to her, tapping her on the shoulder.

  “I was wondering miss, if you might recommend a nice cologne?”

  She stopped in her tracks and turned her head just enough to show a smile to her suitor.

  “Why? Have you run out of seafood?”

  He laughed and offered her his arm. She took hold in a blink.

  “Thankfully the ocean never runs out. Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “No, but you may walk me to wherever it is I am going,” she replied.

  “Where might that be?”

  “That might be nowhere in particular. I just enjoy a walk.”

  “Perfect,” he answered and he meant it.

  They walked until the sun set. He spoke of his parents and how he’d lost his mother years before, how his father had passed earlier that year due to whiskey and heartbreak. Compassion leaked from her eyes and she wiped tears away with a lace handkerchief. Most importantly, she listened to him and he felt fascinating for the first time since he was a small boy. Their conversation flowed as a river, rounding turns and bends, and although they had to retire to separate houses and see each other only when both schedules—and her parents permitted—it continued on and off for weeks. The pair never ran out of things to discuss.

  “I plan to attend the university,” she said.

  “That’s magnificent,” Jacob said.

  “Do you think so? Most men find that pretentious.”

  “Not at all. You’re already smarter than I am. You might as well learn it all.”

  “I find you quite intelligent,” she said.

  She spoke of her father’s business and how she wanted to travel the world.

  “But there is so much beauty in the world right here,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  Caitlin did not look convinced.

  “You should come out on the boat with me.”

  She smiled, then frowned.

  “My father would never allow it.”

  Jacob nodded, knowing what she meant. It wasn’t the boat. It was the fisherman.

  “The ocean is the only beauty that fully matches yours,” he said and gently stroked her cheek. “Your dreams capture my imagination.”

  She grabbed his hand and kissed it, then wiped a tear from her cheek.

  Their evening walks remained public. The more she spoke, the more he fell in love. Months passed and in that time Caitlin grew to love him too. They both knew the odds. They knew her family would never allow such a union…and he knew he had no family to offer. He was all he had to offer.

  Against her protests, Jacob decided to approach her father and ask permission to marry young Caitlin, demanding her judgment if refused. He bathed three times that day and he went to the barber for a haircut and a clean shave. He wore his only suit and when he knocked on the door, James Delaney was having none of it.

  “My daughter will have nothing to do with you, sir. She will marry well…into a lifestyle she deserves. You have nothing worthy to offer her.”

  “Mr. Delaney, if I could only speak to her,” he pleaded, restraining his anger. “She will tell you, just talk to her please.”

  “I have spoken to her, Mr. Kane. And she has spoken to me about you. You have my answer, but not my blessing.”

  “Sir!” he said as the door slammed in his face.

  Had Jacob looked up, he would’ve seen Caitlin watching from the window, tears in her eyes, but he didn’t. He would’ve seen her place her hand on the window and call his name. He would have seen her mouth the words I love you.

  Jacob pulled a small brooch from his pocket as he walked away. It was a rose carved from whalebone that his father made for his mother. It held no real value aside from the sentiment but Caitlin would’ve understood. She would have adored it…or so he thought. If her father had been right, she didn’t love him—couldn’t love him because he was only a fisherman. He looked back at the window, but Caitlin had already gone. Jacob tossed the brooch into the street and lowered his head as he left.

  He wandered from store to store as the world buzzed on about him and he ended up back at the butcher’s. Galloway was wiping down the counters when Jacob walked in.

  “Good mornin’, lad,” Galloway said.

  His wife clucked in the corner with another gossip hen.

  “No friend, it isn’t. I was pondering a drink before heading home. Maybe several.”

  The clucking became louder. Each lady peered at Jacob and then went back to their discussion. Galloway pulled his pocket watch and checked the time.

  “It’s early. That can mean only one thing.”

  Jacob nodded.

  “Trouble with the lady, then?”

  One gossip tilted her head to listen in while the others babbled on.

  “Trouble with her family,” Jacob said.

  “I hear the professor’s son, Thomas is marrying the Delaney girl,” one hen clucked.

  “No! What’s that?” the other replied.

  Jacob’s ears perked up and he went pale.

  “Aye. Heard it from Evelyn Delaney just an hour ago,” she whispered loudly, peering over at Jacob. Mr. Galloway cut his eyes at the women, his expression pleading with them to quiet. They jabbered on. Galloway hooked his
hand around Jacob’s shoulders and pulled him to the other end of the counter.

  “I’m so sorry, lad, but I tried to warn you,” he said. “Some things just aren’t meant for men like us.”

  Jacob fumed. It was enough having had such nasty results with her father. The hens looked at him, eyes bulging, relishing the drama. There was nary a thought for who might be listening, or who might get hurt in the crossfire. He turned to the group of woman.

  “Is your life so worthless you have to ruin others’? What business is this of yours?” he thundered.

  Jacob slammed his hand on the counter and swept its contents to the floor. Galloway tried to grab him, but Jacob burst out the door into the street and headed home for a bottle of local whiskey. He’d traded some fish to a local distiller and kept it for cold nights and special occasions. There had been many more of the former than the latter. That night was going to be cold and lonely.