“I know it’s going against every ounce of your parenting.” Mirielle slipped her hand into his. “But to win Joey over isn’t about this one night.”
“I know.” Evan’s voice rattled rough as he tore his gaze from the closed door. This one night meant taking a risk that felt deeper and wider than the Missouri River during a flash flood. What if something happened? What if they ran?
The Shanahan’s footman, Warren, came from the back of the big house with a lantern. “They’re all back safe and tucking in for the night?”
“Yes,” Evan’s heart tightened.
“Miss Calista mentioned little Joey turned out to be your lost son. Congratulations!”
When had he last tucked Joseph in and told him a bedtime story? Would he be too old for that now? How much more time would be lost before they’d be reunited for good? But out loud, he said, “Thank you for your constant care.”
“It’s nothing, sir. My rooms are out here and I’m enjoying the company.” He waited on further instructions. “Sir, is there anything more?”
Mirielle touched his shoulder. “We should go on now. Warren won’t let any harm come to them.”
Evan stared at red brick carriage house. “Do let me know if the boys need anything, won’t you?”
“I will. And sir, it’ll be my pleasure to keep my eye on your boy for you. Don’t be concerned.”
Evan gave a polite smile and a nod. He envisioned a completely different reunion. A little boy excitedly hugging, jumping, and wanting to be with his father. Not a frightened child, with no solid memory of who his father was, clinging to a stranger. The few words were all he could muster. “Well, thank you and goodnight then.”
With a heart screaming inside, Evan helped Mirielle up into the bench seat. Then climbed up next to her and adjusted the lap robes. All the while, Evan chastised himself. He flicked the reins.
Mirielle didn’t try to talk him out of his head, ply him with platitudes or verses. She simply asked questions to help him think rationally until a few blocks later, Evan pulled the horses to a halt and hung his head. “I can’t do this, Mirielle. Not after all the searching.”
She placed a hand over his wrist. “If you go back and grab Joey, what then?”
“Neither decision feels right or safe or smart.” He couldn’t go forward. He couldn’t go back.
“Taking Joey out of the situation he’d grown used to, and where he felt safe, won’t solve anything.” She squeezed his wrist gently. “He doesn’t know you, but I think he wants to.”
Everything hinged on building a relationship with a son who didn’t know him and who he didn’t know. He had to trust God—and two scared boys—or lose Joseph all over again because of pushing too hard.
“Evan.” She lifted her hand to his cheek applying a light pressure.
He caught her gloved hand against his face like a lifeline and leaned into her palm. Then as if Mirielle’s lips held the elixir of hope, Evan leaned in and sipped of that hope, never releasing her compassionate touch, warm against his skin through a layer of fine, thin wool.
~*~
Evan’s gentle kiss lifted, his lips hovered slightly above hers. Mirielle didn’t move a hair as his forehead rested against hers. She’d known this man less than two weeks yet she knew with every bit of her body that she belonged here. With him. This man needed her and loved her. She knew it without a word spoken. His actions, attitude, and ability to be unabashedly vulnerable told her so much more than the pretty words she thought would be so important when she gave her heart away. Right now Evan needed unconditional love to give him the strength to be patient with his son. Right now Evan needed her words to get through the night alone.
He gently released Mirielle. “I don’t know what to do about my son.” He offered a tentative smile. “But I think we have something growing between us and I’m grateful you’re not slapping me.”
She laughed lightly at his unexpected humor. “No, I’m not interested in slapping you.” She touched her bottom lip. “I…I…it was lovely.” Mirielle lowered her lashes, took a breath, and looked back up. “If you wouldn’t mind driving me the rest of the way home, I wouldn’t mind if you, uh, kissed me goodnight.” She felt the heat in her cheeks as she said it. Mirielle glanced at him from under her lashes again. “I think we are growing a relationship, too. You’ll probably need less time for growing a relationship with Joey, but if it takes a little longer promise me you’ll be patient. In his heart, he knows.”
He looked behind, from the way they’d come, and then to the road ahead. “I will do my best. But leaving him. I never wanted to do that again.” He sighed. “You have to understand that.”
“What if you talked with Albert and Calista about staying in the carriage house with the boys until he’s ready? You could be close to Joey while you two get to know one another again. Then you could keep an eye out for all the boys, until you find more permanent living arrangements than the hotel. It can’t be easy for Warren to do by himself.”
Evan’s eyes lit up. “Brilliant!” He planted a fast kiss smack on her lips this time. “You don’t supposed I could—”
“No.” She lifted an eyebrow as only a school marm could.
He took one glance at her face in the moonlight and capitulated. “Right. I’ll put that plan into action first thing in the morning.” Evan lifted the reigns. The horses picked up on his new energy and pranced in place ready to respond on command. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me do what’s right for my son tonight. For helping me to find him in the first place. I just wish I could have scooped up all those boys and given them a home.”
Mirielle nodded and tucked her hand through his bent elbow. “Yes, I wish I could do that too. Maybe a way will present itself. I’ll be praying on that idea.”
Evan looked at her for a long moment, then finally said, “Yes, I’ll be praying on that, too.”
Chapter 6
Two weeks later, the newsies all sat in a semi-circle for their first music lesson. Mirielle’s heart tripped at the sight. It’d taken a committee from the school board and the new educational sponsors, but they’d hammered out a schedule of classes. The plan included meal and manners training that the other children received from home. Since the dormitory was already filled with students during the first school semester, the newsies continued to live in the Shanahan’s carriage house. But Evan arranged to cart them back and forth to school each day, sharing duties with Warren, in his large wagon refitted to seat the boys instead of haul mining equipment.
“Boys, I realize you are just beginning to read words. You know that’s how we build sentences that create the stories you love.” She lifted her conductor’s baton to show them. “Now we’re going to learn to read music to create songs.”
Wide-eyed stares met her like she’d stumbled into a thicket full of deer. All eleven boys looked ready to take flight as she watched them look toward the exit as one unit. The humorous sight made it hard to hold back a chuckle. But for the sake of her new students’ pride, she did. “It’s not going to be as hard as you think. In fact, you all just did something together, at the same time, called unison. And that’s where we start.” She tapped a few beats on the music stand in front of her. “That’s a rhythm. Now you try.”
Mirielle chose to teach first using the drums. The boys that had drums shared a stick with the boy next to them. They practiced tapping the tips as she counted measures. By the end of their first class, the newsies all understood what whole, half, quarter, and eighth notes meant.
“You’re all going to be wonderful! Instruments get put away properly and you’re free to go out to the yard.” She applauded their first-timer results.
Evan joined in clapping from where he’d leaned against the doorjamb observing. “Hear, hear!”
Bright eyes and excited faces shone around the room. Chatter started about building snowmen, a game of tag, or a game of stickball.
“Miss Mi
rielle, may I have a word with you?” Evan proffered a brown paper bag toward the boys. “And for all you musical men, I’ve brought a reward. I hope you like peppermint sticks.”
A second or less and Evan nearly went under the mob of children running to him for a candy. A moment later, all the boys had exited in various stages of donning new coats, scarves, and boots leaving the youngest, Joey, hopping after, on one foot, calling for the others to wait.
Evan caught up to him and knelt to help. “How about we work together so you can get out there faster?”
Joey balanced on his father’s shoulder sticking his foot into the big hands waiting to assist. “Thanks, Pa.” He grinned showing a newly missing tooth.
“You’re welcome, Joey.” Evan grinned back and tweaked his nose. “Stomp on it to make sure it’s on all the way.”
Joey obediently stomped. Then he threw his arms around Evan’s neck in a big hug. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Mirielle’s heart tripped a second time at Evan’s stunned expression. She laid a hand over her heart, but stayed as silent as possible to avoid spoiling the moment.
“Oh, Joey, there’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be but with you.” His arms folded around the boy’s small back and his eyes closed until Joey pushed away.
“Gotta go or I’ll be last up to bat.” He turned back at the open door. “See ya after school, Pa.”
“See ya, I’ll be right here waiting.”
Joey smiled that one-tooth-missing grin. “I know.” And he was out the door in a flash, slamming it behind him.
Mirielle let loose a giggle. “Evidently, telling them they don’t live in a barn isn’t quite going to work for slamming doors, is it?”
Evan laughed with her and shook his head. “Not today.” He walked into the classroom. “But what if it were true, say, in a few weeks?”
“What do you mean?” Mirielle jumped and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh! You found a place for the newsies!” She hugged him tight in celebration.
“Yes, and more if you think it might work.” Evan pulled back and looked down into her eyes.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Of course it’ll work out. They’ll follow you anywhere now.”
He captured her hands and held them to his heart. “Mirielle.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not talking about whether the newsies will follow me. I’m asking if you will.”
“Are you—”
“Mirielle, will you marry me?”
To her, Evan appeared a tad worried. He’d had enough of that as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want to cause him another moment of worry in his entire life. Mirielle smoothed his brow and brushed the hair from his forehead. “I will follow you anywhere, too.”
“Even into a household full of eleven rowdy boys?”
She smiled into his eyes. “Even there.” Then she forced a frown. “But what if I want more boys?”
“You think we need more boys?”
“Maybe one or two we create together?”
“Or girls.” She nodded. “Yes, maybe we need a girl.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t know what to do with one among all those—” a snowball hit the wall of the building followed by a series of several more. “She better be able to throw a mean snowball.”
In the most serious manner possible, Mirielle nodded. “She’ll have eleven brothers to defend her if she can’t.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Are you good for your word?” Mirielle stuck out her hand unable to stop the mirth from showing on her face.
“I am.” He took her hand in his. “Are you?”
“I am.” As she started to shake on it, Evan tugged her into his arms. She let out a gleeful squeal ending in a spurt of laughter against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and sealed the deal with a kiss.
~*~
It was the slowest bridal march ever played. But the Newsies Pipe and Drum Corps squawked it out to the best of their ability. Mendelssohn’s Wedding March was also the only song they’d had time to learn, lasting all of eight measures. They repeated those same eight measures over and over until Mirielle made it to the front of the church.
Evan whispered into her ear. “Seemed you went a little fast. Are you excited to start our life together?”
She squeezed his hand and whispered back. “Shh, yes. But I didn’t want to torture the guests any more than I had to.” She took a peek over his shoulder. “Just about everyone is plugging their ears.”
His shoulders shook with laughter, but he kept it from being heard. “This time next year and they’ll be in demand for their talents.”
The priest cleared his throat and leaned in to join the whispering couple. “Maybe the year after that.” The glint in his eye nearly caused both Mirielle and Evan to laugh out loud. “Shall we begin?”
Dear Reader
I hope you enjoyed Eleven Pipers Piping. I had so much fun with Mirielle and Evan, and also getting to know all the newsies. I wrote another story that tells what happens as Montana becomes a state in Snowflake Tiara: The Debutante Queen... which is already available on Audible! Eleven Pipers Piping will be on Audible before Christmas!
As an author, I love feedback. Candidly, you’re the reason I’ll continue to explore the debutantes of Helena. So tell me what you liked or loved, what questions or thoughts this book brought to mind, or what made you laugh and cry. You can write to me at:
http://angelabreidenbach.com/contact-angela/
I do answer emails personally.
And visit me on the web at:
http://AngelaBreidenbach.com
or tune into Grace Under Pressure Radio on iTunes where I share a weekly show about becoming a woman of courage, confidence, and candor—the very same characteristics I like to write into my heroines in each story. I’d be honored if you’ll subscribe, leave a rating, and a review. Regardless, I hope you’ll enjoy listening.
Finally, I need to ask a favor. If you’re so inclined, I’d appreciate a review of Eleven Pipers Piping. Your feedback is important to me! Reviews can be hard to come by these days. You, the reader, have the power now to make or break a book. Here’s my Amazon page where you can find all my books:
http://amzn.to/1Np7lom
or you can type my name, Angela Breidenbach, in the finder if the link doesn’t work.
Thank you so much for reading Eleven Pipers Piping, spending time with the newsies, and I hope you’ll also enjoy the sample chapter of The Debutante Queen, at the end of this story, and my other books. But most of all, thank you for spending time with me. I’ll see you shortly in 1892, with the next book in this series, Taking the Plunge.
Appreciatively,
Angela Breidenbach
The Debutante Queen
Did you miss the beginning of Frankie and Joey’s story in Snowflake Tiara?
What if you were caught doing something good, but the man you loved didn’t see it that way? Meet Calista Blythe and Albert Shanahan in 1889…
The Debutante Queen
Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets. Matthew 7: 12, KJV
Helena, Montana Territory
November 7, 1889
Stop that!” Calista Blythe wrestled her skirts free from the insistent waif. “What are you doing?” She twisted around in a circle, as she collapsed the umbrella, dodging packages as they tumbled. Waiting for her carriage to circle back down Main Street, the newly erected Power Building’s massive stone walls seemed a good idea to keep her out of the sharp wind. But Calista hadn’t counted on a street urchin to mug her. They were getting too brazen — and desperate —with winter descending on Montana. But what could she do about dozens of orphans dumped off of trains? Something had to be done for the abandoned children no one adopted when they reached the last stop on the Orphan Train route. But no one did. Calista’s heart squeezed a little.
The child twisted her hand
s into Calista’s blue velvet coat and held on like a bedraggled kitten clawed into a tree trunk. “Please miss, don’t let ‘im whip me no more.” The little girl whimpered in a heavy Irish brogue as tears ran muddy rivers on her reddened cheeks and she trembled in the cold.
“Who?” Calista craned to see around the corner of the grayish pink battered stone of the business building that served Helena, Montana’s Last Chance Gulch. She caught sight of Albert Shanahan’s handsome, stunned face as he endured confrontation with an angry manservant. The thin switch whistled through the air and slapped against the butler’s gloved palm.
Calista’s body rattled with an involuntary shudder. “Oh my!” Calista ducked back before she drew attention as the manservant entered a nearby shop. Had the little bumpkin been whacked with that weapon? “Why are you in trouble?”
A nearby door rattled against the wind. The manservant’s growling voice carried on the sharp, cold wind from a shop doorway. “If you see the little chit, you’ll let me know immediately. Yes? She’s been nothing but trouble since Chicago Joe purchased her indenture. Stupid Irish whelp.” The bell jangled as wind mixed with a light snow forced the door closed behind him. Then his footsteps pounded on the walkway coming close.
The dirty little girl pressed against rough-cut stone of the enormous Power Block building. She hunkered down and whispered, “Please—” Her petite frame seemed like an ant against the massive structure housing multiple businesses. Helena, a city blooming with intricate pink and gray stone and brick architecture on Main Street sprouted buildings that encompassed an entire block.
Calista pushed backward adjusting her skirts until the child disappeared into the frills and ruffles of her blue velvet coat and day dress. From the looks of her, the material would add warmth to the quivering little body. Calista opened her reticule and pretended to search inside as the man stomped to the arced stairway.
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