She only prayed that the damage done so far hadn’t already been too great.
21
I’m taking Sofia out for a while,” Darius said to his mother as they finished up the dishes. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Darius had gone to his morning class at the university and come home to have lunch with his family. Saturday afternoons were usually reserved for time alone with Sofia, but today the urgency to see Olivia and make sure she was all right left him feeling edgy and restless. So he’d decided that he and Sofia would make a quick stop at Bennington Place before heading to the park.
“Watch she doesn’t get overheated. It’s a hot one today.”
“I will, Mamá.” He kissed her cheek. “Is there anything you need while we’re out?”
“If you pass the butcher, I need some lamb for tomorrow’s stew.”
“Sure thing.” He peered into the living room to find Sofia sitting on his father’s lap, the beloved princess storybook open before her.
Darius’s stomach dropped at the sight of it. Did canceling his wedding to Meredith mean his daughter’s dreams would never come true?
Perhaps he was being unreasonable rejecting the marriage. Yet his parents didn’t think so. Mamá made no bones about the fact that she didn’t approve of Meredith and was ecstatic that he’d called off the wedding.
He ran a hand over his eyes. Lord, I pray I haven’t made the worst mistake of my life. And that I haven’t been unnecessarily harsh in judging Meredith. Please help her and her family come to terms with the situation in the best way possible.
Taking a breath, Darius entered the room. “Come on, Sofia. Time to go.”
She jumped up with a smile. “We’ll finish the story later, Pappoú.”
“You have fun,” his father said. “See you at dinner.”
Fifteen minutes later, as Darius parked the car, he was glad to note that only a few protestors lingered on the sidewalk across from the maternity home. Of course, Mr. Simmons was leading the way.
“What are we doing here, Daddy?” Sofia hopped along the sidewalk, attempting to avoid the cracks.
“We’re visiting a friend for a few minutes before we go to the park.”
“They live in a big house.” Her eyes widened. “They must have a big family.”
How did he begin to explain a maternity home to a four-year-old?
“This is like a boardinghouse.” Darius led her up to the front door and knocked. “The ladies pay rent to live here.” He didn’t know if that was true, whether any monetary compensation was involved, but it was the best explanation he could think of.
The front door opened. This time Darius recognized the girl on the other side. “Good afternoon, Margaret,” he said. “This is my daughter, Sofia. We’ve come to see how Miss Rosetti is doing today. Is she up for visitors?”
Margaret opened the door wider. “She’s resting in the parlor. Come in.”
Darius steered Sofia into the room, pausing for a moment. What would Olivia think of him bringing his daughter here? He hoped she wouldn’t think it too forward of him.
“A baby!” Sofia’s squeal was loud enough to wake the neighbors.
From where she was seated in the rocking chair with little Abigail, Olivia’s head flew up. “Well, hello,” she said with a smile. “And who might you be?”
“I’m Sofia.” The girl bounced over to the chair. “Is this your baby?”
“Sofia,” Darius growled. “Mind your manners. This is Miss Rosetti. Olivia, this is my daughter.”
“What a lovely surprise. It’s nice to meet you, Sofia.” Olivia’s eyes twinkled. “This is Abigail. But no, she’s not my baby. I’m looking after her right now because her mother is sick.”
Sofia peered at Olivia. “Are you sick too?” she asked, pointing to the white gauze on Olivia’s head.
“No. I just hurt my head. That’s all.”
“Did you cry?”
Olivia’s lips twitched. “I did. A little.”
“That’s all right.” Sofia patted her arm. “I cry when I fall down too.”
Laughing, Olivia rose with the baby in her arms. “I have to give this little one a bottle. If your daddy says it’s all right, would you like to help me?”
Sofia’s brown eyes lit up. “Can I, Daddy?”
Darius glanced at Olivia, who winked at him. His pulse shot up like mercury in a thermometer, then he reminded himself that the gesture was for Sofia’s benefit, not his. “As long as you do exactly what Miss Rosetti says.”
Sofia clapped her hands, her dark ringlets bouncing.
“Maybe you could help your daddy hold the baby while I prepare the bottle.” Olivia gave him a questioning look.
“I think we’d like that.” He took a seat on the sofa, and Olivia handed him the bundle. Sofia jumped up beside him. “Be careful,” he said. “Babies can get hurt easily.”
“Like puppies?”
Darius chuckled. They’d had the same discussion when their neighbor’s dog had had puppies and she’d wanted to hold one.
“That’s right. Remember how you had to hold the puppy very gently? That’s how you have to treat a baby too.”
Sofia nodded, her features solemn. “I can do that.”
Olivia smiled at her. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sofia. I’ll be right back.”
Half an hour later, when Abigail had been fed and diapered, Olivia laid her in the bassinet. Olivia had been so good with Sofia, allowing her to hold the bottle and feel like she was really feeding the baby.
But once Abigail had drifted off to sleep, Darius knew his daughter would soon grow restless and wear out her welcome. The fact that he wanted to stay was another reason he had to leave. “Well, we’d best be off to the park.”
“Thank you for coming to visit.” Olivia bent down in front of Sofia. “I enjoyed your company.”
Sofia reached out to touch Olivia’s cheek. “You’re very pretty. Do you have any children?”
Darius flinched at his daughter’s boldness.
Olivia went very still, then slowly rose. “No, honey. I don’t.”
“You’d make a very good mommy.”
Raw anguish flashed over Olivia’s features, but then she smiled. “Thank you. I hope you have a nice time at the park.”
Darius hesitated. He wanted a moment alone with Olivia before they left. “Sofia, go wait by the front door. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
As soon as she left the room, Darius lowered his voice. “I’m sorry for Sofia’s questions.”
“Don’t be. She’s just curious.” Yet a hint of sorrow clouded Olivia’s eyes.
“How is your head today?”
“Still tender, but I’m feeling much better.”
“Did you have any of the symptoms the nurse mentioned?”
“No, Dr. Reed. I’m fine.” Her lips twisted into a teasing smile.
When he narrowed his gaze at her, she sighed. “I’m just a little tired. Otherwise I’d come to the park with you.”
Darius stared into her eyes, which appeared more amber than brown today with the afternoon sun on her face, and found it hard to look away. Finally, he cleared his throat. “How is Mary? Have you heard anything more?”
“She’s about the same. Dr. Henshaw is going to check on her later today and let us know how long she’ll be in the hospital.” Olivia shrugged. “I know this sounds awful, but I hope she stays a few more days. I’m enjoying looking after Abigail.” A delicate blush bloomed in her cheeks.
“You’re doing an excellent job. Just be careful you don’t get too attached.”
Her brow furrowed. “That’s what Ruth has been telling me. But I can’t help it. Abigail stole my heart from the moment you placed her in my arms.”
His gaze fell to Olivia’s full lips, and the urge to kiss her buzzed as strong as an electric current inside him. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her.
Remember, you just recently b
roke your engagement to another woman. Keep your priorities straight, Reed.
Olivia leaned closer. “Sofia is precious. You’re doing a wonderful job yourself.”
Her face was so close that his heart started to hammer in his chest.
He leaned forward and—
“Daddy! I’m waiting.”
His breath escaped in a loud exhale. “Coming, sweetheart.”
Saved from temptation by a four-year-old.
Olivia waved good-bye from the front porch, thankful that only a handful of protestors remained across the street. Sofia slipped her hand into her father’s as they exited the gate, looking up at him with evident adoration in her bright eyes. He, in turn, smiled down at the child and tugged one of her curls.
Olivia’s heart gave a slow roll in her chest as the truth became apparent. Not only was she becoming more and more attracted to Darius, she might have just fallen in love with his daughter.
Such a darling girl. How tragic that her mother hadn’t lived to raise her and that Darius had lost his wife so young. The unfairness of life continued to be a concept that eluded Olivia’s logic.
Why, God? Why did a woman who had a devoted husband and daughter have to die, leaving a child motherless? And why did I, who wanted nothing more than to be a mother, have my child taken from me?
“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand,” she whispered. “I suppose that’s why they say God’s ways are above man’s ways.”
Her longing gaze strayed once more to Darius as he walked away, while the harsh memory of her father’s rebuke chased the silly fantasies from her mind.
“Olivia will never marry now, Rosina. No man is going to want damaged goods.”
The sting of her father’s statement was as raw as the day he’d uttered it, yet she couldn’t dispute the truth in his words. She needed to remember that and to keep her heart’s unrealistic yearnings in check. There would be no romance for her, no words of love or undying devotion. Those were reserved for upright women worthy of such declarations, women untainted by sin and shame.
With a deep inhale of fresh air, she went back inside the house. The roofer should be here any minute. After the fiasco with the angry mob yesterday, he’d kindly agreed to come back today instead. Olivia only hoped the repairs would be finished quickly. The girls and baby Abigail did not need the banging of hammers to disrupt their peace for too long.
She checked on the baby before going in search of Ruth. Now that Olivia’s headache had subsided to a dull throb, she was ready to offer her services again with whatever task Ruth needed done.
When Olivia entered the office, however, she came to an abrupt halt.
Ruth sat at the desk, telephone receiver at her ear, tears streaming from her eyes. “Thank you for letting us know, Doctor. If we can be of any assistance . . .” She paused. “Yes, of course. Good-bye.”
Olivia’s stomach clenched. “Ruth, what is it?”
Ruth took out a handkerchief and wiped her face. “That was Dr. Henshaw. Mary passed away a few hours ago. She never regained consciousness.”
Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth, her throat constricting. “I thought she was on the mend.”
“I did too. Dr. Henshaw suspects she suffered internal damage as a result of the beating, which was aggravated by giving birth so soon afterward. Her body just couldn’t take it.”
On shaky limbs, Olivia moved across to one of the chairs. “Poor little Abigail.” Another child left motherless. Tears blurred Olivia’s vision while guilt ate at her. She’d selfishly enjoyed the time alone with Abigail, not fully considering how Mary might be suffering in the meantime. “What do we do now?”
“Nothing for the moment. Dr. Henshaw said he’d be in touch soon. He’s going to request a coroner’s report to determine the actual cause of death. He’ll also see if he can learn Mary’s identity and find out if any relatives might be looking for her. In the meantime, he asked that we continue to look after the baby until further arrangements can be made.”
Arrangements? What sort of arrangements? Surely the authorities wouldn’t consider giving the child to her father, should they learn his identity. A man who would beat his wife did not deserve to raise a child.
And letting that innocent girl go to a foster home was no better an option. That baby deserved someone who could give her the love and the stability she deserved.
Olivia’s thoughts flew to Matteo, and a familiar ache spread through her chest. She would not let anyone take another child from her. Not when she already loved Abigail as though she’d given birth to her herself.
She rose, determination stiffening her spine. Before any such arrangements could be made, Olivia would find a way to ensure Abigail stayed with her.
22
On Monday morning, Darius burst into Mr. Walcott’s office without knocking. The time for reckoning had arrived, and Darius was more than happy to be the one to provide it.
He came to a halt in front of Walcott’s desk, where a curl of cigar smoke hovered in the air. “I hope you’re happy with the damage you’ve caused,” Darius snapped. “That newspaper article was so inflammatory it got an innocent woman seriously injured.” Just remembering Olivia’s wound sent his pent-up anger spewing forth like an uncorked bottle of champagne. “Miss Rosetti could have been killed by those fanatics.”
Walcott lowered his coffee cup. “Good morning to you too,” he said wryly.
Darius ignored the warning tone. “This harassment has to stop. I looked the other way when I found out you’d bribed the inspector, but inciting violence against vulnerable women is unacceptable. I want to know how you intend to fix the situation.”
“Fix it? This public outcry is exactly what I was hoping for. With this kind of turmoil, the maternity home will soon have to shut down.”
Darius clenched his fists. “Did you not hear me? Miss Rosetti ended up in the hospital when someone threw a rock at her. It took seventeen stitches to close the gash on her head.”
Walcott frowned. “I never intended for anyone to get hurt.”
“Well, she did. What if she’d been carrying an infant? Or if the rock had hit her temple? Someone could have died. Are you really willing to live with that on the slim chance of obtaining the property? Because I can pretty much guarantee that Ruth Bennington would rather sell to the devil himself than let you have her home.” Darius’s chest heaved with the labor of his breathing.
Walcott slowly rose from his chair. “It’s becoming apparent that your loyalties have shifted, Reed. And that does not bode well for your future here.”
Recognizing the not-so-subtle threat, Darius took a moment to center himself. “I don’t think loyalty is the issue. It’s a matter of common decency. And this time you’re the one breaking a cardinal rule of business, sir. The Bennington property has become far too personal for you, and I believe it’s clouding your judgment.”
Walcott crossed his arms over his chest.
“We made a proposal,” Darius continued, “and the customer turned it down. If it were any other property, you’d have moved on by now.” He narrowed his eyes. “What is it about this place that matters so much to you?”
Walcott let out a low growl and turned away. “That’s none of your concern.”
“It is if it’s causing you to make bad decisions.”
Walcott’s head whipped around, his features flushed. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m in charge here. You’re getting dangerously close to crossing a line you can’t come back from.” He strode around the desk to stand inches from Darius. “I’d suggest you cool down and think carefully about your future.”
A ripple of alarm raced down Darius’s spine. “What does that mean?”
Walcott tilted his head. “I heard you called off your engagement to Meredith Cheeseman.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It affects one of our top clients.” Walcott scowled. “What if Horace Cheeseman pulls his account because of this and finds some
one else to manage his properties? You’ve already cost us the Peterson contract. We can’t afford to lose Cheeseman as well.”
With effort, Darius held on to his temper. How had Walcott turned this back on him? “Mr. Cheeseman is a professional. I’m sure he’s able to keep his personal life separate from business matters.”
“We can’t take that for granted.” Walcott jabbed a finger at him. “I’m leaving on a business trip in a few hours. While I’m gone, you need to smooth things over with Cheeseman. Arrange a meeting. Better yet, take him out for dinner and drinks on our dime.”
Darius’s shoulders tightened. He would not stoop to bribery to appease the man. “I’ll call Mr. Cheeseman and make sure everything is satisfactory.”
“Do whatever is necessary to make sure he’s happy. And get your priorities straight, once and for all. This is the last chance you’ll get, Reed.” On that ominous note, Walcott pointed to the door.
With no other option except to quit his job on the spot—an action too rash to make in the heat of anger—Darius blew out a breath and left the office. The encounter had left a decidedly unpleasant taste in his mouth.
But Walcott was right about one thing.
Darius needed to decide where his priorities lay and determine whether or not to continue on his current career path.
By midday, Darius had scheduled a meeting with Mr. Cheeseman and had lined up two potential properties to view. Both locations would be ideal sites for Walcott Towers, if only his boss would take off his blinders and consider a different option. Darius hoped when Mr. Walcott returned from his trip, he might have gained a new perspective and be willing to forget about Bennington Place.
Unable to stop thinking about Olivia, Darius decided to use his lunch hour to go and see how she was doing and make sure that the protestors hadn’t returned. If they had, he would find a way to disperse them.
Ten minutes later, he parked across the street from the house, relieved to note that no demonstrators were visible at the moment. Ruth’s calling the authorities must’ve had a lot to do with that.
A ladder leaned against the exterior of Ruth’s house, and the sound of hammering indicated that a repairman was likely at work. Hopefully the company he’d recommended had given the women a good price. A twinge of guilt flared. He wondered if the repairs were even necessary or if they were invented by the inspector to satisfy Walcott. Unfortunately, there was nothing Darius could do about it now, so he consoled himself with the fact that at least they would be spared any potential leaks in the attic.
A Haven for Her Heart Page 17