Bauer Hattie's World

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 979-8-3509-4345-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 254 Seiten

Reihe: Hattie's World

Imprisoned for a forbidden love, Hattie Winthrop emerges two decades later, haunted by her father's legacy of cruelty. She's on a path from outcast to redemption, seeking to cleanse their sins in a village shrouded in secrets.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Bauer, Thomas

Leseproben

1

Cornelius Winthrop had tired of hearing his only son and heir, Owen, called a bad seed. He heard it from his pastor, he overheard it at the café and at work. He even heard it from his wife, the boy’s mother. “The boy will come to his senses,” he would say over and over. He seemed to believe it. Young men sow wild oats until such time as they recognize the reality of what their role in life is to be. Then they begin to see the future clearly and behave with decorum in the present. Owen was a smart lad. One day, he would take over the family business just as his grandfather and father had.

The elder Winthrop was a pillar of the community, owner of the Winthrop Granite Works and the richest man in town, a leader of the local Republican party, a regular worshiper at Sunday service, and a member of one of the town’s oldest families in Orville, New Hampshire. Even more impressive, he had been a decorated cavalry officer in the Spanish American War and claimed to be friends with the president. Actually, his unit had met up with the Rough Riders outside of Santiago and had shared mess with them. He had met Roosevelt and they had exchanged a few pleasantries, but that was all. No one but Cornelius himself knew that little secret. Regardless, he was the most respected man in town. As such, he did not take kindly to slights against him or his family. His son had been a wild child and was now a wild young man. Cornelius could only hope that soon he would cease to be an embarrassment.

Young Owen had a natural charm that he could turn on or off at a moment’s notice. His temper was not so easy to control. At school, he had often been in trouble for fighting. Some even considered him a bully. No punishment seemed to work on the boy. The razor strop was met with disdain. The boy often cursed at his father during the whippings, making the beatings more severe. He bore his father’s stern lectures in silence and soon forgot them. When Owen grew as tall as his father, Cornelius knew better than to take out the weapon of discipline. The boy was just as likely to wrest it from his father’s hands and use it on the parent. Cornelius would often walk out of a room he had just shared with his son mumbling “incorrigible.” Adulthood did not necessarily bring maturity and responsibility with it.

The young man was certainly enterprising. As a student, he had almost been expelled from high school for putting a live king snake in his geometry teacher’s desk drawer. After graduation, he and his cronies had led the Orville police department on a wild goose chase by sending a telegraph from Boston stating that a non-existent murderer named Jake Dooley was on the loose and residing in Orville. Young Owen did not seem to enjoy his successful pranks as much as he felt triumphant, as though he had succeeded in administering justice or vengeance. Justice and vengeance for what was a riddle. The boy had been born into a privileged life. No one had done him harm. Quite the opposite was true. Owen’s drunken revelries were legendary and his pranks had the townspeople fearing they would be his next victims. His father had been awakened many times in the wee hours of the morning by the police dropping off his drunken son on the doorstep.

One morning, the police chief, who stood over the crumpled body on the front porch was forced to say to Cornelius Winthrop, “If this behavior continues, we will no longer be bringing the young man home. The next time, you will have to come to the station and bail him out of jail.”

“It won’t happen again,” Cornelius assured him. It did, but they continued to honor the family patriarch by bringing his son home.

Owen had never been one to romanticize his existence. His mother might wax poetic about the colors of a New Hampshire autumn, but Owen failed to see the beauty. To teach him discipline, his father had hired him out to rake the leaves in neighbors’ yards. He loved sledding and ice skating in winter, but the cold, the digging snow away from the front porch, and slogging through the slush on the way to school dampened his enthusiasm. Spring meant allergies, not bird songs and blossoms. Summertime meant swimming and boating at the lake, but it also meant mosquitoes, heat, and humidity. Now, as a young man, he could find distractions to make life more appealing, drinking, whoring, and over-indulging in activities that most residents of Orville found repulsive in the young man.

The people of Orville were New Englanders, proud, industrious, often terse in speech, initially cool to strangers, hardened against the elements, restrained. Their ancestors had been those austere Puritans who had been obedient servants of God due to their fear of the hellfire awaiting those who sinned. The lives of many of Orville’s residents were nearly as rigid. Owen saw none of the traits of his fellow Yankees as virtues. He often explained that he got in trouble so often to liven things up. Orville was a dull place because it was filled with dull people. He wasn’t about to become his father or any of his neighbors. Even though he was destined to inherit a fortune and the most profitable business in Orville, Owen longed to be anywhere else in the world but his home town, someplace far away from the eyes and ears of busybodies, some place he could do damn well what he pleased with no consequences. He had gone from being a little hellion as a child to becoming the town’s leading libertine. He would often tell his friends, “The old man wants me to become just like him. Fat chance I’ll ever be a stuck-in-the-mud fuddy-duddy like him. All he cares about is his reputation and that damned rock at the granite works. I’m going to be my own man and do whatever I like.”

Owen Winthrop considered himself a lady’s man. He was quite a handsome young man and roguishly charming. Women were naturally drawn to him. Unfortunately, his reputation often preceded him. Despite his appeal, he was often rejected. He had not used his former sweethearts kindly. He had pawed them when they didn’t wish to be pawed, impregnated two of the town’s belles before cruelly jilting them, and actually struck some of his dates who wouldn’t let him have his way with them. Cornelius Winthrop spent far too much time being confronted by vengeful fathers. As he was the wealthiest man in town, some were appeased financially, others were intimidated by his social standing and backed away from their accusations.

Papa Winthrop continued to provide his errant son with a generous allowance in hopes that he would eventually develop an appreciation for thrift and an eye to his future financial situation. Owen continued to squander his allowance and indulge in pleasure. Unwillingly, he began to join his father at the granite works, learning a business in which he had no interest, recognizing that with his father’s empire he would one day be able to fund the pleasures and vices he was accustomed to, once he inherited it all. Owen found the work dull. Though he was bored, he showed a knack for business. When he expended enough energy to come to work, he would often find errors in the company’s ledger. His father often found him a valuable asset, but his work ethic could be infuriating.

There was one woman in Orville who was not intimidated by Owen’s reputation. She had a reckless streak herself. Molly Fitzpatrick was young, beautiful, and anxious for adventure. She had a wild side and had once been as uninhibited in her youthful behavior as Owen. It was a part of her character she was forced to keep under wraps. She hadn’t found love in her natural life style, so she settled for stability. Her husband, the mayor of Orville, could not provide her with the fun she craved. Mayor Collin Fitzpatrick, a widower, had met Molly on a business trip to Boston. She had set her sights on him in the hopes he could provide her with the wherewithal to a prosperous and comfortable life without realizing how dull it would be. In spite of her husband’s affection, kindness, and generosity, and the fact that the mayor had provided her with all the trappings she had dreamt of as a girl, she had not found joy in her new life.

Molly met Owen Winthrop at the punch bowl at a party in honor of her husband’s re-election. It was a staid affair which the two decided to liven up by having a drinking competition. Both became drunk enough to embarrass their families, but at the same time recognized in each other a zest for the pleasures in life that had been denied to her and had made him the fuel for town gossip. Both were anxious to re-connect with each other, for there had been an intense mutual attraction. How, was the question. Molly’s social position forbade her from entering the saloons Owen frequented. He viewed the Fitzpatrick home, surrounded by a high wall, as a fortress keeping the object of his desire a prisoner within.

Of the two potential lovers, Owen was the more ingenious. He began to loiter outside the mayor’s house, hoping to see some sign of life. After a few days, the matronly house keeper who did the cleaning and cooking, emerged. Owen followed her to Mason’s Grocery Store and cornered her in front of the butcher’s display case. “I have a very important letter for your mistress,” he said. The woman looked at him with suspicion. “It’s from an old friend I happened to meet in Manchester. If you would be good enough to give it to Mrs. Fitzpatrick.” He handed her a twenty-dollar bill for her trouble. With that gesture, her countenance brightened and she snatched it before he had a chance to change his mind.

Unaware of Molly’s habits or the restrictions her husband had placed on her, the letter asked her to meet Owen at the...