Betsy (Orlan Orphans Book 8)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “I brought home something today you all might be interested in,” Charles announced, eyes gleaming. The boys and Amy perked up. “It’s a piece of an old ship from the sixteenth century, and it was being auctioned off. There were a few pieces that aren’t valuable and can’t be sold, so Mr. Fitzsimmons let me bring it home.”

  “I want to see it!” David shouted, jumping up from the table, but Charles held out a hand.

  “Not until after dinner, David.”

  Dejectedly, David sat down in his seat. Everyone was quiet as they enjoyed their roast and potatoes.

  “This is delicious, Ma—I mean, Betsy!” Amy declared. She had begun calling Betsy “Mama” when no one else was around, but sometimes she slipped a little.

  “Thank you, Amy. I’m glad you like it.”

  Matthew set down his fork and looked at Charles, his face full of nerves. “My friend Robbie from down the road asked me to help out him and his Pa tomorrow. They have a new automobile and they’re driving into the city to pick up supplies for their business. Can I please have permission to go?”

  Charles frowned. “I don’t know. You have your studies. And I don’t know Robbie or his father. I don’t like the idea of you going off with them.”

  Betsy fought back a small smile. Charles was sounding a lot like Cletus with his overprotectiveness. She didn’t see the harm in letting Matthew spend time with his friend. It even sounded like a learning opportunity, since they were going into Austin and he’d see all the sights and sounds of the city. But she respected Charles’s opinion and knew that whatever he said was the final rule.

  “You don’t know Robbie’s father? Don’t you see him at church?” Matthew was dismayed at his brother’s excuse. There was always a reason why Matthew wasn’t allowed to do something. He just wanted to be allowed to do something—anything—for a change.

  Charles’s brow furrowed. “Hmm – is he the one with the red hair? Or the bald one?”

  “Neither!” Matthew screamed. “You never pay attention to anything anymore! You’re not our father, you can’t tell us what you do!” Matthew raced out of the house and slammed the door shut.

  Charles looked more shocked than angry. “Please excuse my brother’s temper.”

  “Should I go after him?” Betsy asked quietly.

  “No. Don’t worry about him. He’ll be back. Now, who wants to see a piece of an old ship?”

  An hour later, Betsy was preparing to go back to her home, but Matthew still wasn’t back yet. She looked out the window and saw thick, foreboding storm clouds rolling in.

  Charles was worried. He paced the house, looking up at the clock every few moments. “I’m going out there to find him. Can you stay with the children?”

  Betsy nodded. Of course, she would. Edna Petunia and Cletus still gave her a hard time about how much time she was spending at the Brooks’ house, but she thought they would understand in this case. After all, they had opened their hearts to Betsy and her sisters just as Betsy had opened hers to Matthew, Samuel, David, and Amy.

  Charles put on boots and kissed the other children good night in case he came home late. Before he left, he also grabbed Betsy’s hand and gave her a quick squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. Betsy shivered.

  The children did their lessons and played a few games with each other, but they soon tired and went to bed. Betsy tucked them in, watching through the window as rain poured down on the fields of Nowhere. Betsy went out to the front room and checked the clock. It was getting late. Now she was not only worried about Matthew, but about Charles, too.

  She also knew that the later she stayed out, the more upset Edna Petunia and Cletus would be with Charles. They were reasonable—to a point. But Betsy knew they sometimes faulted Charles with how much he relied on her to help him out. Betsy didn’t mind because she cared for him and knew he needed the help. But Edna Petunia and Cletus didn’t know the magnitude of her feelings for him…and she certainly wasn’t about to share that information.

  Betsy sighed and decided it might be nice to take a nap. She settled down on the floor in Charles’s usual spot, thinking about his big, strong shoulders and firm hands, and wishing he was there with her.

  Betsy had just drifted off when she heard the door burst open.

  “Has he come back yet?” Charles was a mess – dripping wet from head to toe. Betsy found a blanket and rushed over to him, helping him dry off.

  “I’m sorry. He hasn’t been here. Did you see him at all?” Betsy had been sure Charles would have found Matthew by now. Where could the boy be?

  Charles let out a sharp, frustrated breath. “I’ll bet he’s doing this on purpose. I bet he’s hiding so we’ll worry about him. I could have caught a cold out there. Who knows, I probably did.” Charles was fuming in the way Mr. Fitzsimmons usually did.

  “Where did you look?” Betsy thought maybe some questions could calm Charles down.

  “I went to his friend Robbie’s house, stopped by the church, went to the school, the mercantile—he’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Well, he’s got to be somewhere.”

  “I know you’re right, Betsy. But I have no idea where to look next. What are we going to do?”

  “Are there any other places he likes to go to?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  Betsy tried to put herself in Matthew’s shoes. If she was his age, where would she want to go to hide? “You don’t think he’d go to the auction house, do you?”

  Charles shook his head. “I don’t think so. He never showed any interest in it before.”

  “Okay. Was there anything Matthew said over the past few days that could give us a clue into what he was thinking?”

  “All he kept saying was he wanted to be alone. I don’t know what that means!” Charles couldn’t believe how angry he was. Matthew had no idea how much trouble he was causing. He could get sick, or hurt—there was no telling what kind of trouble he could run into on his own. The only thing that gave Charles any type of comfort was that Betsy was there. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.

  Betsy glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. She was going to be in a world of trouble when she finally returned to the Sanders house, but that wasn’t her main concern. “I think we should go to bed, Charles. You need some rest, and we’ll need to make breakfast for the other children in the morning. We can start searching again before work.”

  Charles started to protest. “But we can’t—”

  “I know you think that’s abandoning Matthew. But you have to stay strong for the other children.” Betsy knew she was right, even though it was very difficult to say out loud. She was just as worried as Charles was about the boy.

  “Fine. Where will you stay? I don’t want to suffer the wrath of Edna Petunia.” Charles looked so concerned about the possibility that Betsy almost burst into laughter.

  Betsy waved a hand. “I’ll deal with Edna Petunia. You get some rest.”

  “I wouldn’t feel right unless I made sure you were comfortable first. Why don’t you take Matthew’s bed?” Charles pointed toward the bedroom.

  Betsy thought about it. It felt strange to take the missing boy’s bed. At the same time, it was the best option available. So she nodded. Charles gently opened the door and led her inside. He made sure she had enough blankets and a pillow.

  “Good night.” Charles whispered softly into Betsy’s ear. Betsy felt a shudder run throughout her entire body as she watched him walk away. The power the man had over her was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  Before Betsy drifted off, she prayed. Dear God, I know I’ve asked you for a lot lately. Thank you for healing Amy. Please let Matthew be okay, too. She hoped she wasn’t asking too much.

  Chapter 8

  The following morning was a blur. Betsy was the first to rise. She fried eggs in a skillet for breakfast and wrote out a list of possible places to look for Matthew.

  Charles woke a little after Betsy.
He came into the kitchen and sighed. “Thank you for doing all this, Betsy.”

  Betsy nodded. She felt she was simply doing what was needed.

  Charles scarfed his food down and looked out the window. The sun was shining and the skies were clear. If he was going to find Matthew, he had as good a chance as any on a day like today. “I’m going to keep looking for him. I’ll see you at the auction house.”

  Betsy watched Charles walk out the door. She wanted so badly to hold his hand or kiss him goodbye, but she knew it wasn’t appropriate. She needed to put her fantasies out of her mind. She was his help and that was all. She wasn’t truly a part of his family, no matter how much she felt like it.

  The children woke up at half past six. Amy came into the kitchen first.

  “Betsy, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t allowed to stay all night except for when I was sick.” Amy rubbed her eyes.

  “That’s right, Amy. But last night, I decided to stay because Charles was up late looking for Matthew.”

  “Is Matthew back?” Amy’s eager expression made Betsy want to fall over.

  Betsy walked over to Amy and gave her a reassuring hug. “Not yet, Amy. Charles is going to find him, though.”

  “Do you think Matthew is going to go where our Mama and Papa went? Because they can’t come back, not to Earth. They live in a place called Heaven.”

  Betsy felt tears welling up in her eyes. This sweet child had suffered so much in her short life. She felt the need to protect her from any further damage. “Charles is doing everything he can to make sure Matthew comes home soon.”

  David ran into the kitchen next. Betsy thought sometimes that the boy moved as if he had a motor inside him. A sleepy Samuel followed a few minutes later.

  “Where’s Matthew?” David demanded as he ate his breakfast quickly.

  “Charles is looking for him. He asked me to make sure you all ate a good breakfast. But I need to leave soon, too. Samuel, you’re in charge. Make sure David and Amy do their lessons—and you have to do yours, too.”

  Samuel looked surprised but also excited. “Yes, Betsy.”

  “Okay, children. I’m going now. I’ll be back later to check on you. Be good.” Betsy gave each child a hug before she left for the day. It was so hard not to become attached after spending so much time with the family. She didn’t know what it was like to have children, but she imagined this was something close. She constantly thought about them and worried about them and wanted to make sure they had everything they needed.

  For the moment, though, she knew she had to focus on Matthew. She was most worried that he’d gone into a neighboring town—or even set out for Austin, the nearest city. Betsy had only an hour until she was due at work. She decided to limit her search to the few blocks around the auction house. That way, she could be thorough. After work, she would expand her search zone. Although the weather was hot and dry, Betsy shivered as she imagined Matthew still being lost when she got home from work. She hated to think of him being missing for that length of time. All sorts of danger could befall a boy of his age in that span. Plus, she didn’t know what he would eat or drink. He might fall sick, or even pass out without nourishment.

  Betsy bit her lip as the auction house came into view. Behind the auction house was a street lined with small, older homes. At the very end of the block were a few that had been abandoned for years. Betsy remembered something Charles had said to her, that Matthew wanted to be alone. Where better to be alone than in an abandoned house?

  Betsy hurried to the end of the block. When she came to the first house that had been abandoned, she cautiously walked onto the porch and peered through the window. She couldn’t see anyone or anything. She tried the doorknob, and the door swung open. Cobwebs crept across each wall, and dust and rubble covered the entire floor. Betsy took a deep breath and forced herself further into the home.

  There were only two rooms in the house, and Matthew wasn’t in either of them. Betsy left the house and took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air.

  Betsy closed the door carefully behind her and went to the next house in the line. There were four abandoned houses in all, and she was determined to check each and every one.

  By the time she forced herself to enter the fourth house, Betsy was coughing from all the dust. She also felt exhausted and worried that Mr. Fitzsimmons would fire her if she wasn’t at her best. But she knew she couldn’t stop. There was a loud creaking sound as she stepped across the threshold.

  “Matthew!” Betsy called out, but there was no answer.

  Suddenly, another floorboard creaked…but Betsy had stopped moving. She froze.

  In this house, there were two rooms. The creaking had to have been coming from the next room. Betsy tiptoed into the next room, careful not to make a sound. She saw the door swing shut—someone had been in the house just a moment ago! Betsy rushed outside and saw Matthew, about to climb a tree.

  A wave of relief and gratitude washed over Betsy. She felt happier than she’d felt in her entire life, unless she counted the time Charles had kissed her. She ran up to Matthew and gave him a big hug.

  “Matthew! We were all worried sick about you. Are you all right?” Betsy didn’t ever want to let go.

  Matthew looked as if he wanted to protest, but then he gave in and relaxed as Betsy held him close. “I am so mad at Charles! I couldn’t stay there anymore!”

  Betsy stepped back and set her hands on Matthew’s shoulders. She looked him straight in the eyes. “Matthew, Charles loves you. He only wants what’s best for you. When he’s strict with you, it’s because he thinks that will help you turn into the wonderful young man you are becoming. Do you understand that?”

  Matthew hung his head. “I don’t know. Why does he have to be so mean to me and the other kids?”

  Betsy wasn’t sure what to say. This was a more appropriate conversation for Matthew and Charles to have. “I think you should talk to your brother about that. But first, you’re going to have to come home.”

  Matthew nodded his head.

  Betsy looked around the house warily. “Have you had anything to eat since last night?”

  Matthew shook his head.

  “You’re to go straight home this instant. I made eggs, and there should be enough left for you to eat. When Charles gets home from work, you two can talk. How’s that?” Betsy felt like she was being overly bossy, but she also knew that Matthew was probably too upset to think straight. He needed someone to guide him to do the right thing.

  “Yes, Betsy.” Matthew looked a little relieved at the prospect of eating one of Betsy’s home-cooked meals. He had to be worn out and famished from his evening staying in the dilapidated house. “Betsy, you’re the only good thing that’s happened to us since our parents died. I hope you are going to be part of our family.”

  Betsy smiled sadly but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up. She watched as Matthew set off on the path toward the Brooks’ home. She realized she needed to get to the auction house.

  When she arrived, Charles was already there, pacing the floor inside the hall. Mr. Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows as Betsy walked in. He motioned to the clock, and Betsy saw she was exactly on time.

  Betsy spotted Charles in the hall and rushed toward him. “I found Matthew!”

  “Is he all right? Where?” Charles looked frantic.

  “He’s fine. I sent him home to eat and get some rest. I found him in one of the old abandoned houses behind the auction house.” Betsy hesitated. “Charles, I think you need to talk to him.”

  “Yes. I’ll do that.” Charles set his mouth in a grim, tight line.

  “And Charles?” Betsy knew Mr. Fitzsimmons was staring at her, but she didn’t care.

  “Yes?”

  “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help out. I’ve really grown to care for the children, and I want what’s best for them, too.” Betsy felt silly telling Charles all this, but she wasn’t telling hi
m everything that was in her heart.

  Betsy tried to ignore her feelings and threw herself into her work. Mr. Fitzsimmons was pleased when she completed an extra round of dusting before lunch and had time to polish all the doorknobs and brass knockers.

  At the end of the day, Charles told Mr. Fitzsimmons he needed to leave early to attend to a family matter. Mr. Fitzsimmons grunted but told him it was fine as long as he made up the hours the following day. Betsy told Mr. Fitzsimmons that she was going outside to sweep up dust from the front entrance. She raced to catch Charles before he left for the day.

  “Charles!” she called. “Do you need me to come to the house tonight?”

  Charles looked puzzled. “No, Betsy. I’ll handle tonight on my own.” He turned and began slowly walking away.

  Betsy felt like she was going to burst into tears. She had thought Charles might need or want her help. But he didn’t want her there at all. No matter how hard she worked or how much she took care of the children, he didn’t see things the same way she did. She took a deep breath and began to attack the dust with her broom. If Charles didn’t need her help, she would make sure the auction house shined like it never had before.

  Betsy worked so hard for the rest of the day that Mr. Fitzsimmons told her that she had done quite enough and should end her shift when he left. Betsy gratefully accepted. She was exhausted.

  When Betsy got back to the Sanders house, Theresa and Hattie were sitting by the entrance.

  “Edna Petunia and Cletus want to see you in the formal parlor.” Theresa told her.

  “They’re pretty mad!” Hattie’s face wore a worried expression.

  Betsy smiled. “I’m sure they are.”

  Betsy went into the informal parlor and sat down. She didn’t say a word. Her parents erupted in shouts.

  “I can’t believe you would be so irresponsible—”

  “Word travels fast in this town!”

  “I have half a mind to—”

  “That darn Charles Brooks—”

  “Never expected a girl like you—”