Jack rushed to the far corner of the church, draping old wrapping paper that had been repurposed as tapestry across the walls of the sanctuary.

"How does this look?" Jack called behind her to Corrie, who stood in the center of the room supervising her and Hannah's work with her hands on her hips.

"Jack, lift yours higher," Corrie commanded. Jack stood on her tiptoes, her ankle aching at the weight. "There!" Corrie cried, and Jack took the hammer and nail Dr. Benjamin offered her to tack the wrapping paper to the wall.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Christina cried from her position at the entrance to the church. "Well done, Cor."

Indeed, the church looked beautiful. The last Ragtime dance had been so successful that the women had expanded their efforts for the second dance. The wrapping paper added to the church's decoration and Corrie had lit beeswax candles throughout the room instead of bright lanterns to provide a softer ambiance. Corrie had a talent for the aesthetic that Jack admired.

"We're ready!" Hannah cried, clapping her hands together, her eyes jumping to the quartet. "But where is Donovan, Jack? I heard he's coming!"

"He is," Jack said, her face blushing red. "But he had to finish some grading before he could come. He should be here soon."

"He was so kind to find me a job," Christina said. "It's only a few hours a week, but it's so nice to be doing something outside of the house. I'm indebted to him, Aunt Jack."

Jack blossomed under the praise of Donovan, straightening her back and her skirt at once. "I told you he was a good man, and now he's proving his worth."

Corrie touched her aunt on the shoulder. "You were right, Aunt Jack. I'm sorry we doubted you. Are you--courting?" Corrie asked, stumbling over her words.

Jack cocked her head to one side. "Well, not exactly, but I care for him and he for me."

Corrie looked as if she wished to offer judgment on the statement, but she refrained. They all knew that Jack was old enough to do whatever she wanted, and Jack knew that entering into such an entanglement with a man could lead to heartbreak, scandal, and a sullied reputation, but those no longer scared her. She'd survived her engagement to Roy, and she would survive whatever became of this. Donovan was a nomad, and despite his desire to settle down, she doubted she was what he wanted. She was a passing fancy, and she would have to content herself with that.

As if on cue, the doors to the church opened and Donovan entered. His eyes swept past Christina stationed in her chair at the door to Jack, still standing near the wall hanging, and he smiled at her. A passing fancy, Jack told herself. But he was not merely a passing fancy to her.

"Good evening," he said, his gaze falling back to Christina as he gave her a gracious bow. "Thank you for your lesson yesterday, Miss Walker."

"Oh, of course! It was a pleasure. You may call me Christina, if you please."

"Christina, then," he said, brushing past her to approach Jack. He took her hand and kissed it softly though his eyes on hers hinted at far more scandalous touches. "Miss Jack, ravishing as always."

At the mischief in his eyes, Jack touched her hair. "What? Did I mis-pin my hair again?"

"No, Jack, you look perfect," Donovan said with a laugh, taking her arm. "As I said, ravishing."

Jack rolled her eyes at the man as Corrie approached him with a curtsy. "Mr. Donovan, we're happy you could join us. We've heard of all you've done at the school over the past two weeks."

Donovan smiled and removed his hat to bow at Corrie. "Mrs. Benjamin, thank you for having me."

"Of course."

Hannah, Dr. Benjamin, and Titus all offered their greetings quickly and kindly, showing more decorum and genuine interest than they had before. Perhaps all it took to gain a little respect was this show of solidarity with the town and with the war effort.

"There's quite a large crowd outside the doors," Christina announced.

"Jack, will you man the refreshments?" Corrie asked, and Jack gladly took her position by the watered down punch made by fruit from her very own orchard. Donovan stood beside her, leaning against the wall.

Corrie and Hannah bustled about in final preparations, their faces flushed from the effort and candlelight flickering over their expressions as they doused the lanterns to allow for the glow of candlelight.

Jack glanced up at Donovan and smiled. "I'm glad you're here."

His bronzed complexion painted darker by the shadows, Donovan smiled back at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek softly. "There's nowhere I'd rather be. You were right about gaining employment--the people of Irvington have been much kinder to me, and I have you to thank, Jack."

"Yes, well, I'm good for something other than catching errant chickens, delivering the mail, and making bombs."

"Quite."

They shared one final smile as the broad oaken doors opened and the throngs rushed in. No surprise to Jack, the illustrious Oliver and Anita Walker were the first to enter the church, Oliver with his ever present ivory handled cane.

"What a party!" he cried, motioning to his daughters with the cane. "I'm blessed to have such patriotic daughters. Well done, Cornelia, Christina."

Reverend Smalley appeared alongside the mayor and smiled beatifically at the girls. "Ahh, our Ragtime Girls! This is quite the festivity."

Corrie beamed under the praise, and soon the church was flooded with people from the highest echelons of Irvington society to the poorest farmers with small garden plots. Jack was soon occupied spooning punch into cups and greeting her friends. Jack was surprised by how many people approached Donovan to ask him questions about the school--in only two weeks, he had been accepted.

When Jack caught sight of Julius and Minnie entering the doors, Jack abandoned her post and rushed to greet them. "You came!" she cried, hugging Minnie and pumping Julius's hand. "Oh, I'm so glad!"

Minnie chuckled, straightening her faded pink bonnet. "Yes, yes, we're here, but by the looks of things we aren't welcome. Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Oh, you're fine," Jack said, taking Minnie's arm and ushering her to the refreshment table. "Look at how they've accepted Donovan!"

"Is that Donovan?" Julius pretended to peer through his round glasses in Donovan's direction. "I barely recognize him; I've hardly seen him these past few weeks."

Jack blushed. "Yes, well, he's been quite busy with his new job at the school."

Minnie slapped Jack on the arm with a laugh. "Oh, we know where he spends his evenings, Jack. You can't hide from us."

Jack rolled her eyes at Minnie. "You're the ones who invited him here and you told me what a good fellow he is. How could I resist?"

Minnie threw her head back and gave a hearty laugh. "If I'd only known, I would have had Julius invite Donovan here years earlier. Seeing you happy, Jack, makes me happy like you're my own child."

Julius and Minnie wandered off to speak with Hannah who worked with Julius at the Irvington newspaper, and Jack took the moment of respite from the dancing and talk and revelry to run to the church's outhouse in the backyard. The air in the church was stuffy and Jack breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the cool nighttime air.

The crowds were mostly packed inside and Jack relished in the moment of quiet. Ever since Donovan had entered her life, she'd spent so much time with him that every moment of her life seemed occupied. The peace of the outdoors comforted and cooled her and she paused after using the outhouse to think.

Donovan.

Who would have thought she would be consorting with such a man? Who would have thought that she could attract the attentions of someone so kind, so noble, so well educated? Jack leaned her head against the wood and allowed herself to dream for a moment. In a different world in which they were young and unencumbered by trouble times and pasts, perhaps they would have the sort of future Dr. Benjamin and Corrie had found.

Enough daydreaming, Jack.

She forced herself to leave the peace of the outhouse behind and return to the dance. Jack slipped through the wide doors and her eyes caught on the last person she had expected to see here--Margaret Hunt. Roy's sister? What could she be doing here? But Jack knew the entire town had been invited, including all who could donate foodstuff or purchase war bonds, and Margaret was there. Her frizzy auburn waves were lazily pinned and she wore a faded dress that exhibited her decolletage to the utmost degree.

She stood next to a tall man with dark hair and a jaunty tilted hat, her hand on his bicep. She laughed, loud enough to echo about the quartet's ragtime music, and leaned towards him flirtatiously. Jack stood still, remaining in the shadows by the door of the church, and watched. She'd nearly forgotten about the near-death encounter with Margaret by the old Hunt farm, but seeing her here brought that moment into stunning clarity again.

Margaret was telling her companion a story, and Jack tuned her ears into the conversation when she heard her name. "Oh, yes, I know Jack Harrison, the one with that Indian fellow? Yes, she was engaged to my brother."

Jack bristled at the words. Why were they talking about her? She knew Margaret had a grudge against her, but had it gone so far that she was the topic of public scorn?

The man next to her murmured something under his breath that Jack couldn't hear, and Margaret answered him. "You ain't heard about her? Everyone's heard of crazy Jack Harrison. Oh, she's a wild woman. Broke off her engagement with my brother after a year of stringing the poor fellow along, and then he joined the Army out of spite. And he died."

The bitterness in Margaret's voice amplified Jack's discomfort. Was this how she was talked of? She'd heard the gossip before, that she was a crazy spinster and such, but never had it grown so nefarious.

"Why, they were caught once in their undergarments in Mr. O'Leary's pond! That woman must have seduced my brother into it. And after all that, she ain't got the gall to marry the man. Instead, he goes to war and dies thanks to her. No, she's a no-good lot. It's no wonder she's shacking up with that Indian fellow."

Jack balled her fists and squeezed her eyes shut to retain the rage that threatened to spill over. How dare she spread such scandalous lies? And who cared enough about her to elicit such nonsense from someone like Margaret Hunt? Should she confront them?

Of course she shouldn't--she was a Ragtime Girl, after all. She had a reputation to maintain, and she wouldn't play into Margaret's portrayal of her as a delusioned siren who seduced and ruined men.

Finally, the dark haired man speaks up. "It's no surprise she's consorting with Donovan, then. He's as criminal and no-good as they come."

"Well, they deserve each other, then," Margaret said, and she turned to glare at Jack.

She knew I was standing here. Jack shoved past Margaret to find Donovan--she needed to vent to someone, to have someone reassure her that she wasn't as guilty as Margaret claimed, but as she slipped by, she finally caught glimpse of the face of the man to whom Margaret was speaking.

It was one of the men that had so alarmed Donovan at the last dance. Beside him stood the other man, nearly his twin though not as tall and his features not as sharp and dashing. Jack turned and glared at the men. She had to say something. She could endure abuse of herself, but she couldn't tolerate their foul rumors about Donovan.

But as she opened her mouth to speak, a hand caught her wrist. "Don't, Jack. Don't say a word." 

Who are Margaret Hunt's mysterious companions and why do they have so many terrible things to say about Donovan?