A Haven for Her Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  “As I’ve discovered, you never know what you’re capable of until faced with an impossible situation.” Olivia smiled, hoping to ease the girl’s fears.

  But Meredith didn’t smile in return, focusing instead on shredding a paper napkin into strips. “I’m not proud of the way I’ve handled things. The way I treated Darius . . .” She glanced up at Olivia. “I can’t believe he’s still trying to help me after what I did.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me,” she said quietly. “Darius is an honorable man.” As well as decent and kind, and a loving father. She took a sip of her now-cold tea to ease her dry throat. “You’re more than welcome to come and stay with us, Meredith.”

  The girl hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “If you’d like to see the house and meet the other residents, I can arrange—”

  “Meredith Cheeseman? Is that you?” A shrill voice boomed through the diner as a rather large woman approached their table.

  The color drained from Meredith’s face. Her mouth opened but no sound emerged.

  “Why, it is you!” The woman stopped beside her. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that plain outfit. You’re usually so stylish.” She gave a hearty laugh that jiggled her second chin. “Whatever are you doing on this side of town?”

  “Mrs. Dollard. How nice to see you.” Meredith gave a weak smile, her cheeks flaming red. “May I introduce Miss Rosetti?”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Dollard.” Olivia nodded in the woman’s direction. “We’re in the middle of a business discussion, but you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  Meredith’s nostrils flared.

  “Oh, heavens no,” the woman said. “Don’t let me interrupt. I just came in to get my husband his favorite smoked meat. Marty’s has the best in town.” She tugged the bodice of her dress where the buttons appeared stretched to their limit. “Well, give my best to your dear mother and tell her I look forward to our next bridge night.”

  “I will.” Meredith gave a slight wave.

  As soon as the woman left, Meredith’s eyes closed, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Seconds later, she opened her eyes again and exhaled. “You see what I mean? It’s not safe here. Even in this neighborhood, there are people who recognize me. I’m afraid this isn’t going to work.” She shot up from her seat, taking her purse with her.

  “Meredith, wait. Let me look into—”

  “Thank you for your time, Olivia. But I’ll have to come up with another solution.” Without another word, she rushed down the aisle and out the front door.

  Olivia’s heart sank as she sagged back against her seat. How was she going to tell Darius that she’d failed him? And what was Meredith going to do now?

  26

  Darius drummed his fingers on the desk as he stared out his office door. Mr. Walcott was due back from his business trip today and would expect a renewed commitment to Walcott Industries. If Darius continued to oppose his boss’s wishes, he might be out of a job by the day’s end.

  A mug of cold coffee sat on his blotter, the only thing he’d had in his stomach all day. The uncertainty of his job was wreaking havoc on his system. Mr. Walcott had taken a chance and hired Darius during a time of economic upheaval. And now with the war on, the unemployment rate remained high. Not a favorable time to be out of work.

  The other matter weighing on him was Meredith’s situation. She was meeting with Olivia today, but would she agree to go to Bennington Place? In his gut, Darius felt that would be her best option.

  He rose from his chair and looked out the window to the busy street below. When had his life become so complicated? A few months ago, his only problem had been trying to shield Sofia from his father’s Greek influence. Now he had Mr. Walcott breathing down his neck, his career hinging on his ability to coerce a widow into selling her home. His former fiancée, the woman he’d hoped would be a good mother to Sofia, had deceived him and was now drowning in her own unfortunate circumstances. And somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for an Italian beauty who ran a maternity home for unwed mothers. A woman all wrong for him and his daughter in so many ways.

  Darius scrubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. This was not how he’d imagined his life turning out. Not at all. When he’d married Selene, his future had stretched before him with unbridled optimism—until violence had robbed him of that dream. Yet he’d survived, for Sofia’s sake. Then, just when he thought he had his future back on track, life had thrown him another curve that sent him reeling. And no matter how much he tossed and turned at night, trying to find solutions to appease everyone, all he ended up with was bags under his eyes in the morning.

  A knock sounded on his door.

  Darius suppressed a groan. Time to face the music. But instead of Walcott, he found Meredith standing there.

  She came in and closed the door behind her. Anxiety seemed to roll off her in waves, and Darius could only surmise the talk with Olivia hadn’t gone well.

  “Did you meet with Miss Rosetti?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it was a waste of time.” She paced to one side of the room and stared at the artwork on the wall, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

  “Why is that?”

  Meredith shrugged. “The place sounded fine, but while I was talking with Olivia, a friend of my mother’s came into the diner and recognized me. There’s nowhere I can go in the city that’s safe.” She came back to face him, her expression earnest. “I appreciate what you were trying to do, Darius, sending me to talk to someone who’s lived through my situation. But it doesn’t change the fact—”

  “Wait.” Darius frowned. “What do you mean someone who’s lived through your situation?”

  Meredith sighed. “You don’t have to cover for her anymore. Olivia told me how her family disowned her and how her baby was taken away. I can see why she’s so determined to help people like me.” She fumbled in her bag for something. “I admire her for turning her life around. I just wish I could be that brave.”

  Darius sat down hard on his chair, clenching the armrest in an iron grip, the cold chill of truth sliding down his spine. It all made sudden sense. Perfect, horrible sense.

  Olivia had given birth to a child out of wedlock.

  And she hadn’t said a word to him about it.

  “Are you telling me you didn’t know?” Meredith had taken a seat and was leaning forward to stare at him.

  “No, I didn’t. I figured she had a reason for wanting to run a place like that. Maybe a friend or cousin had gotten in trouble. But she never said anything about her own child.” Not even when he’d asked her point-blank about her motives for becoming involved with Bennington Place.

  “Well, I don’t suppose it’s something she goes around telling everyone.”

  Maybe not, but he thought they were friends. He ran a hand over his eyes, trying to corral his jumbled emotions.

  “Oh, now it’s starting to make sense.” Meredith gave a humorless laugh and shook her head. “You have feelings for her. That’s why this is hitting you so hard.”

  He met Meredith’s gaze. “I guess the joke is on me.”

  Her features softened somewhat. “Olivia seems like a nice person. Doesn’t she deserve the chance to explain?”

  With no ready answer, he rose and walked to the window. He wouldn’t discuss this with Meredith. Wouldn’t let her see how his heart was being shredded into pieces alongside the image of the woman he thought he loved. “So, does this mean you’re going to abide by your father’s wishes and go to Saskatchewan?”

  “Not if I can help it. Hearing Olivia’s story made me realize I could find another maternity home in a city far enough away that no one will know me.”

  “Like where?” A deep weariness invaded his body as he turned back to her.

  “Maybe Ottawa. Who knows, I might even like it there and stay after . . .” Her brows crashed down and she rose abruptly. “Anyway, that’s really why I came to see you. To thank you . . . and to say good-bye.”

&n
bsp; He walked around the desk. “Will you tell your parents?”

  “Not right away. Daddy would only try to stop me. But once I’m settled somewhere, I’ll let them know.”

  He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Promise me you’ll find a reputable place. And that you’ll let me know you’re all right.”

  “I will.”

  “Do you think you’ll keep the baby?” he asked softly.

  A flash of pain rose in her eyes, and then she shook her head. “I don’t think I’d make a very good mother. My baby deserves a real family. Not one that would forever resent it or consider it a liability, the way my parents would.”

  Darius’s throat thickened. He couldn’t imagine anyone thinking of Sofia as a liability. Or as anything less than a perfect child of God. “Take care of yourself, Meredith.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She flashed him one of her old smiles, then walked out the door.

  Darius waited until he heard the ding of the elevator doors before returning to his desk.

  A thousand emotions flowed through him at once, twisting his insides until he dropped his head into his hands with a defeated groan. Olivia had lied to him the entire time he’d known her. The paragon of virtue whom he’d compared Meredith to had fallen off her pedestal with a resounding crash. Had he really been prepared to quit his job over her?

  Because honestly, if he hadn’t gotten swept away by his admiration for Olivia and what she was trying to do at Bennington Place, he would’ve tried a lot harder to get Ruth to sell—might have even been on board with all of Walcott’s schemes. Which didn’t say a lot about his character, except to prove that he was no paragon of virtue himself.

  Olivia had made him want to be a better man. She’d made him take a hard look at himself and his ambition, and he’d found himself lacking. But now it seemed it had all been a sham.

  Darius pushed up from his seat, grabbed his coffee cup, and headed toward the staff room. Anything to stop the torturous thoughts raging through his skull.

  As he passed the elevator, the doors opened.

  Mr. Walcott stepped out, a rumpled suit jacket over one arm. “Reed. Perfect timing. I need to talk to you.”

  Darius came to a halt. Maybe the timing was perfect. “Let me get a coffee, and I’ll be right there.”

  “Grab me one too.”

  A few minutes later, Darius entered Walcott’s office with two cups in hand. He set one in front of his boss and took a seat.

  “How was your trip?” he asked, more to be polite than because he had any real interest.

  “Fruitful.” Walcott riffled through his briefcase on the credenza behind his desk. “I met with several investors in Vancouver who are looking to acquire properties here, and I’m confident they’ll choose Walcott Industries to help them do so.”

  “That’s good news.” Darius took a long drink and grimaced. How long had this coffee been sitting in the pot?

  Walcott threw some papers down and pulled out his chair. “I trust you’ve had time to reevaluate your priorities while I was away.”

  Something about Walcott’s wary expression made Darius uncomfortable. But at this particular moment, with his emotions in such a state of upheaval, he wasn’t prepared to do anything as final as quit his job. To put his family in jeopardy over some misplaced loyalty would be foolhardy at best. No, for now he would have to make the best of things. “I have, sir.”

  “And what conclusions did you come up with?”

  “I am committed to my career at Walcott Industries. However, I do have one stipulation.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I consider myself an ethical person, sir, and I wish to uphold my reputation as such, even in the business place.” He paused. “If that’s going to be a problem for you, then I would respectfully request time to look for alternate employment.”

  Walcott studied him across the desk. “Unfortunately, ethics and business do not always mix well. As you found out with Elliott Peterson.”

  Darius’s stomach fell. It was true. His impulsive words to Peterson at the gala had cost the company one of their most lucrative clients.

  Walcott pointed a pen at him. “I do, however, value your contribution to our company. You’re smart, capable, and have a way with people. I’d be a fool to let you go.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “I’d already decided to remove you from the Bennington project since it seems to cause you such angst. In the future, I can get other employees to handle any . . . ethically sensitive situations that might arise.”

  Darius swallowed. “That sounds like a reasonable compromise. I appreciate your understanding.”

  “To be fair, you did have a point about my being a little too close to the Bennington situation for my own good.” Walcott’s brow crinkled as he struck a match, held it to his cigar, then blew out the flame. “Long before there were businesses in that area, Henry Bennington’s father cheated my grandfather out of that land. It’s been a sore spot in our family history for years, and I vowed to one day get that property back. Restore the family legacy.” He blew out a ring of smoke. “Closest I’ve come is buying the property next door.”

  “The empty lot?”

  “That’s the one. I knocked down the house that was there. Wasn’t worth saving anyway. And I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the Bennington property to go on the market.” Ash formed on the end of the cigar. “I want to build Walcott Towers in honor of my grandfather. To right the wrong done to him.”

  “I see,” Darius said slowly. “That does explain a lot. Though I doubt Mrs. Bennington has any idea about the history of her late husband’s land.”

  “Maybe not.” Walcott set the cigar in the ashtray with a loud exhale. “I have to admit a bit of the fight has gone out of me lately. I’ve decided that if the city council votes for the maternity home to stay open, I’ll cut my losses. Sell the lot and build my tower elsewhere. But if the council orders the home to close, I’ll take that as a sign to continue.”

  Darius took in a hopeful breath. At least it seemed like his boss might now be willing to consider other possibilities. “Sir, I took the liberty of lining up some potential sites I think might work for Walcott Towers.”

  His boss rolled his chair back, an unreadable expression on his face. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have an alternate plan in place.” He glanced at the calendar on the wall. “With everything I have to catch up on around here, I won’t have time for a while. Why don’t we meet in the next few days?”

  “Sounds good.” Darius exhaled slowly, almost afraid to believe the battle was over. Because despite his disillusionment with Olivia, he still supported the good work of the maternity home.

  Walcott nodded. “I’m glad we cleared the air, son. From now on, we know where we stand. The company can only benefit from that.”

  “I’ll do my best to make sure of it, sir.”

  Darius pushed to his feet, his determination solidifying. He’d also do his best to help Walcott stay on the straight and narrow, whenever possible.

  Maybe that way this partnership could work for the both of them.

  27

  This little girl is doing just fine.” Dr. Henshaw removed his stethoscope and returned it to his medical bag. “All thanks to you, Olivia. You’ve done a marvelous job with her.”

  His admiring regard sent warmth surging into her cheeks. She tried not to think about Darius’s claim that the doctor might have romantic feelings for her. “It’s no hardship,” she said. “I’d do anything to make sure she’s healthy and happy.”

  The baby lay in one of the cribs in the nursery where Dr. Henshaw had been examining her. She waved her little fist in the air and kicked her legs. Olivia pressed her lips together to keep her emotions in check. How much more time would she have with this precious girl? To hold her, rock her, and sing her to sleep with long-remembered lullabies?

  “Olivia?” Dr. Henshaw’s voice sounded near her ear. “You haven’t seemed yours
elf lately. Is there anything I can do?”

  She gripped the crib railing. Of course she hadn’t been herself. Caring for Abigail these past weeks had brought back painful memories of having her own child taken from her. Now she was faced with losing another baby. It was only through God’s grace that she was clinging to any semblance of sanity at all.

  The doctor gently turned her to face him. “Ruth tells me you’ve been spending every waking moment with the baby, to the exclusion of the other residents—even shirking your work duties. She’s worried about your emotional state,” he said quietly, “and how giving up Abigail will affect you.”

  Raw grief scraped the back of her throat. “Why did you have to call Children’s Aid? Why couldn’t you have left matters alone? Then Abigail could have stayed with me.” Her voice broke, and her whole body began to shake. The tears she’d been valiantly trying to suppress burst forth in a torrent.

  The doctor’s arms came around her, and she wept against his chest, reluctantly accepting the comfort he offered. When she was finally able to collect herself, she stepped away from him.

  “I’m so sorry, Olivia.” He handed her a handkerchief, regret blooming in his eyes. “I know it might seem unfeeling, but I did what I’m required to. Though I hate that it’s causing you such pain.”

  “It’s not fair.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I could give Abigail a good home with all the love she would ever need. She wouldn’t be lacking for anything.”

  “Except a father,” he said. “And maybe brothers and sisters.” His earnest hazel eyes met hers. “Don’t you think she deserves that?”

  Her thoughts flew back to her family’s crowded apartment over the store. Yes, her brothers were annoying and obnoxious at times, but together they’d created many wonderful memories, ones she wouldn’t trade for anything. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “And if you were honest, you’d admit this wouldn’t be the ideal place to raise a child.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to hear the truth in his words. “I don’t know if I have the strength to go through this again.” She reached over to straighten the baby’s blanket. “Can you think of any possible way for me to keep her?”