Chapter 9

“Bang.”

The noise woke Claire for a long slumber. Her heart was pounding.

She wondered what could have caused such a loud sound. She sat up in her bed and saw her bedroom window open and curtains fluttering in the breeze.

“It’s only the wind,” Claire thought as she crawled out of bed to shut the window.

She felt the chill as the wind blew through her nightgown. It reminded her how warm the long johns were that she wore when she lived in that drafty of an apartment down by the river.

She looked out her window and down on the fountain in the garden. It was lit up in gold by the moonlight, very much like the “dream” she had when she saw Emily.

She looked out, perhaps expecting to see Emily skipping in the garden. She nodded her head when she didn’t see Emily.

She shut the window and was about to crawl in bed when she saw a glow coming from the hallway. Gingerly, she walked out of her bedroom to see what it was.

The origin of the light wasn’t in the hallway. She followed it to find that it came from a candle in the parlor, sitting on a table. She saw her mother sitting in a chair, reading a book.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed sleeping young lady?” Mary Windham said.

“The wind opened my window,” Claire said, trying to explain herself. “The window slammed against the wall. It woke me up. Now, I can’t go back to sleep.”

Her mother smiled.

“Well, come here, poppet,” she said, motioning for her daughter.

Claire crawled up in the chair beside her mother. Mary put her arm around her daughter and pulled her close.

Claire felt the warmth coming. She pulled her head over her mother’s chest and listened to her heartbeat. It made her feel closer to her mother.

“Momma, what was she like?” Claire said.

“You mean Emily?” Mary Windham said. “She was a sweet child, and beautiful just like you. She was adventurous and rambunctious, more than perhaps a young lady should.”

“Am I adventeruous and rambunk….shuss?”

“Rambunctious,” Mary Windham giggled. “Yes, you are. You’re very much like Emily in that regard.”

“Do you miss her?” Claire asked.

“I do, sweetie, yes, I do,” Mary Windham said. “I don’t think a mother ever gets over losing a child. I hope you don’t ever have to find that out.”

“I can’t have children,” Claire said sadly. “Mirilla told me that. Since I used to be a boy.”

“First of all, Claire, you’ve never been a boy,” Mary Windham said. “Yes, your body has challenges. You won’t be able to give birth. But that doesn’t mean you won’t become a mother. I didn’t give birth to you, but you are just as much my child as Emily. Some day there may be a special child who needs a mother. You’ll be able to give that child a mother’s love.”

Claire smiled.

“Do you think of me as Emily’s replacement?” Claire asked her mother.

“Why Claire, where did you ever get that idea?” Mary Windham asked.

“Becky thought I might be,” Claire said. She didn’t mention to her mother about the “dream”, and the possibility that she might have been picked by Emily herself.

“No, you are not Emily’s replacement,” Mary Windham said. “I miss Emily deeply. It crushed my spirit. The day you ran away from Walter O’Hara and no one could find you, I felt those same feelings. I wished I had both of my girls here with me, but that’s not possible. You’re a lot like Emily, but you are not Emily. I don’t want you to try to be Emily. You’re Claire. That’s who I want you to be.”

Claire hugged her mother tight and kissed her the cheek.

Mary Windham returned the kiss and stood up.

“Thank you poppet,” she said. “We’ve got a big day ahead.”

She spanked her daughter once on the rear.

“Now get to bed!”

*****
“Wow! She’s so beautiful!” Becky whispered to Claire as they watched the yellow colored horse gallop in the field.

“I know, momma bought her for me,” Claire said as the two girls laid on the ground under the rails of the fence watching the stable boy exercise the Windham horses. “One of these days I’m going to ride her.”

One of Claire’s favorite things to do was to watch the horses gallop in the field on the Windham estate. She loved to see the wind blow through their manes.

Of course, Becky loved to watch the stable boy, who like Claire’s birth parents, was from Ireland.

“You’re mother would never let you marry him,” Claire teased, sounding snobbish. “He’s not from a proper family.”

“I know, my dear,” Becky said, trying to sound snobbish in return. “But like the horses, he is so beautiful to look it.”

Both girls burst out laughing.

“Claire Windham! Rebecca Randolph! A man’s voice shouted.

“Myron!” Claire and Becky both said at the same time, their eyes rolling.

“It isn’t very proper for you young ladies to be lying on the ground,” he said. “It’s time to head back to the house. Miss Claire, we’re having company. Mirilla will have to clean up you up.”

Company, Claire had almost forgotten. She was having so much fun with Becky, she’d forgotten.

“Who’s coming over?’ Becky asked her friend.

“The Stensons,” Claire said. “They’re coming to stay with us through the Independence Day celebration.

The Stensons were old friends of Mary Windham. Martha Stenson was her best friend. She and her husband Joseph had known her since childhood. They were among the few people who knew about Claire’s “secret.”

They had a son a year older than Claire named Lawrence. Claire had heard Lawrence could be somewhat of a brat.

“So, Larry’s coming,” Becky said inquisitively.

“What about Larry?” Claire asked.

“You mean, you don’t know?” Becky asked her friend.

“Know what?” Claire asked, really, really interested in what Becky meant.

“Rumor has it that the Stensons wanted an arranged marriage between Larry and Emily,” Becky said. “Maybe they want an arranged marriage between you and Larry.”

“Oh, Becky, you are so silly sometimes!”

*****
“Claire, how can you get so filthy!” Mirilla said as she pulled Claire’s dress over her head.

“Well, Becky and I were just having fun,” Claire said.

Claire stared at the iron tub she was about to have to climb into.

“Mirilla, when will I be big enough to give myself a bath?” Claire asked, not looking forward to the scrubbing she was about to receive.

“Well, Helen still bathes your mother,” Mirilla said. “So I reckon I’ll be bathing you until you and I are old and gray.”

Suddenly Mirilla stopped, stunned at what she saw as she pulled Claire’s undergarment over her head.

“What is it? Is there something wrong?” Claire said with a frightened look on her face.

“Helen!” Mirilla shouted. “Get Madame!”

Helen and Mary Windham rushed into the room.

Claire had a look of panic on her face.

“What’s, what’s wrong?” Claire asked.

“Look at her chest,” Mirilla said to Mary Windham and to Helen.

“Is this the first time you’ve noticed?” Mary Windham asked.

“Yes, it is,” Mirilla said, while Claire’s mind spun with what the two women might be talking about.

“Madame, I did not think that was possible,” Helen said to Mary Windham and Mirilla.

“Neither did I,” Mirilla said. “Maybe some of that medicine that Dr. Robert gave you really works.”

Mary Windham shook her head, muttering “Amazing, absolutely amazing.”

Claire had gone from a state of fear to a state of shock.

“Momma, what’s wrong with me?” she said as she started to weep.

“It’s a blooming miracle, if you asked me,” Helen said.

Mirilla and Mary Windham laughed at Helen’s words.

“I would say blooming is probably the right word,” Mirilla said.

Mary Windham held Claire’s bare body tight and gave it a look.

“My dear, nothing is wrong,” she said shaking her head almost in wonderment. “Most girls get them a couple of years before you do.”

“Get what?” Claire said, still very shook up.

“Breast buds,” Mary Windham said. “The fact that you’re got them at all is simply amazing. Wonderful and amazing.”

*****
Mirilla brushed Claire’s hair. She was amazed how soft it was, even getting dirt in it during Claire and Becky’s time in the field watching the horses.

Claire sat silent as Mirilla hummed and worked magic. She placed a flower in Claire’s hair.

“Mirilla, does it mean I’ll be getting breasts like you, momma and Meggie O’Hara?” she said, breaking the silence.

“Well, your mother is going to get Dr. Robert to examine you, but it looks like you’re well on your way,” Mirilla said. “Are you happy about that?”

Claire smiled. “Momma said my body has many challenges. Maybe it’s trying to become what it’s supposed to be,” she said.

Maybe so, Mirilla said.

It still very much defied logic.

She helped Claire put on one of her finest dresses and put a bow in her head.

It wasn’t long before chatter could be heard in the parlor.

The Stensons had arrived.

“And this must be Claire!” Martha Stenson said as Claire came down the staircase, followed by Mirilla.

“Why Mary, she’s so beautiful,” Martha said, looking Claire over from head to toe.

Claire, Mary and the Stensons stayed in the parlor and talked while Mirilla and Helen prepared supper in the kitchen.

“She is amazingly proper,” Martha whispered to her husband Joseph. “You would never know she used to be a poor Irish child. Why she could be an heiress, descended from royalty.”

Joseph Stenson nodded his head in agreement. They were amazed the most — but didn’t say it to each other — that Claire had once been a boy. They would have never, ever have known if Mary had not told them.

Claire did some observing on her own. Larry, as Becky called him, was somewhat chunky. He was a little chubby and red headed. But still, she found him to be a little cute.

“Claire, why don’t you show Lawrence your bedroom?” Mary Windham said. “Now Joe, what’s this I hear that our forces are engaged in Gettysburg?”

Claire led Lawrence up to her bedroom, although she wanted to hear about the battle that had just started in Pennsylvania.

She showed Lawrence her doll collection, her books and her fancy dresses. He seemed bored. She couldn’t blame him. Boys were simply not interested in girls things.

“My mum says you ride horses,” Lawrence asked.

“Yes, I have one I’m allowed to ride now,” Claire said. “I have one that momma just bought that I hope to be able to ride.”

She was amazed they found something interesting to talk about. Poor Larry, she found out, had never ridden horses, but wanted to ride one. He did, get to drive the carriage they owned in Boston.

He liked playing sword fighting and playing war. He wanted to “whip” the rebels, he told her.

Claire tried to break the subject. She asked Lawrence if he was interested in doing some waltz steps she had just learned.

She was surprised to find out that he knew how to waltz. He actually led her in a few steps.

Then he did something that completely shocked Claire. He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She pulled away. She blushed. She didn’t know what to think.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lawrence said. “I should have asked you first.”

“It’s okay,” Claire said. “It was very sweet.”