Patricia only stared at her.
“Not too long ago, I was in the district with Caroline to tend a woman, and I . . . I saw Timothy at a saloon.” Was there any way to soften this blow? “I’m afraid his job hasn’t been keeping him out late. He’s been missing so often because he’s out drinking. He even came home drunk a few nights ago.”
Patricia didn’t move.
The clock ticked, and Mercy braced herself for an outburst of some kind.
Patricia resituated herself on the sofa. “Is that all?”
Mercy blinked. “What do you mean, ‘Is that all’?”
“I know he drinks.” She shrugged.
“You do?” And here Mercy had been feeling guilty for keeping such information from her.
Patricia nodded, looking as if there were no problem whatsoever.
“Are you not worried?” Mercy shook her head. “Don’t you think Nicholas will dismiss us if he finds out? Which won’t be long if Timothy comes home drunk again.”
“That was the only time he’s come home drunk. It was a . . . misstep. He realizes he had too much that night, but most men drink, law or not.” Patricia laid aside her book. “Mr. Lowe’s a reasonable enough man. If Timothy isn’t hurting anyone, there’s no problem.”
“Did you not hear that I found him in the district? That’s not going to be looked upon kindly by the Lowes. But even more, his drinking keeps him from being here as often as he should be, which causes the children to suffer.”
“How so?” Patricia threw back her shoulders, her voice pinched. “Are you implying your brother is worse than whatever mother or father these children once had? Sure he drinks—maybe a little too much that one time—but he doesn’t abuse the children. They’re fed, they’re perfectly happy, they’re fine.”
Mercy clenched her fist. And here she’d thought if she told Patricia about Timothy’s drinking, she’d have someone to help convince him to sober up and become the guardian he was supposed to be. “If he wasn’t so busy drinking, he could’ve spent more time with Jimmy. If he had, perhaps the boy wouldn’t be the discipline problem he is.”
Patricia pshawed. “Jimmy will always be a problem.”
“So that’s it? You think there’s nothing wrong with Timothy continuing to work here as is?” How could her sister-in-law seem so unruffled?
“You and I are here, aren’t we? Max and Robert are well educated and will soon be off to a school they would’ve had no hope of attending without us.” She gestured with her hands as if the children were in front of them. “Owen will soon be adopted, so all we’ve got left is Jimmy. Hopefully we can make some headway on getting him to behave before more orphans come along.”
Did Patricia really think the two of them had a hand in those positive outcomes? Aaron, in less than two months’ time, was more responsible for the children’s promising futures than they were.
“Besides, you can’t want to return to cleaning house again, enduring whatever miserable cook we can afford.” Patricia indicated the room with her palm up, as if offering Mercy the finest of accommodations. “We’d miss having this house, the gardens, the driver . . .”
And all the spontaneous naps Patricia took when she pawned her duties off on the house staff. “I do enjoy the house—who wouldn’t?—but it comes with obligations we’re barely meeting.”
“We’ve not been here long, Mercy,” Patricia insisted. “We’ll settle in soon enough.”
That was all they needed to do? Settle in?
Patricia picked her book back up, and Mercy closed her eyes. And she’d thought talking to Timothy had been like talking to a brick.
Once her heartbeat returned to normal, she rose and headed into the hallway. The children would be better off with different houseparents. Despite her own good intentions, nothing she or her family had done in half a year had had any significant impact on the children.
But did she want to return to the life she’d once had with Patricia and Timothy, knowing how very differently they saw the world?
She wandered toward the open front door just in time to see Mrs. Sorenson and Stella drive away, the wagon behind them piled high with donations.
Henri’s speedster turned onto the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust as he gave the horses a wide berth.
Caroline came out to stand beside her, Katelyn tied to her chest with the wide strip of cloth Charlie had brought to show her how to work with a baby while keeping both hands free. “I’m proud of you, Mercy.”
Mercy shook her head. Seemed leaving the ballroom hadn’t saved her from the praises she didn’t deserve. “Standing up to Mrs. Sorenson only hurt Max and Robert. And you know just as well as I do that I let Timothy get away with condemning Sadie for her past when his current secrets are inexcusable.”
Caroline turned from watching Henri’s car speeding toward them. “I wasn’t actually talking about how you handled those two, but rather how you barely blinked an eye at Sadie’s story. She was sure she’d lose friends if anyone found out—just as she lost Franklin—but you stuck by her.”
“So that was the problem between them?” Hopefully Franklin would get past his disappointment and see Sadie for the sweet, loving girl she was now. Just like she’d learned to see the good in Aaron. “But I thought Franklin came from the red-light district.”
“Yes, but he didn’t know about Sadie’s past until she told him. He’d wanted to leave everything about the district behind him forever.”
“And Henri?” Mercy nodded toward the automobile seconds away from driving up under the portico. She raised her voice to be heard above the rumble of the engine. “What keeps you apart?”
Caroline didn’t respond, the engine’s roar echoing loudly off the mansion’s stone columns. Katelyn startled awake, and Caroline struggled to get her niece out of the makeshift sling.
When Henri cut the engine, Caroline turned to Mercy while patting a sniffling Katelyn. “Seems I’m doing what I’m proud you didn’t do. His past makes me reluctant to trust him.”
Henri hoisted himself out of the driver’s seat of his jaunty little vehicle, but Caroline stayed in place, not running off as she was wont to do whenever he showed up.
He pulled off his hat and approached them with hesitant steps. He looked Caroline up and down, his lips twitching, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide on what.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Beauchamp,” Mercy said, though there wasn’t much good about it thus far.
“And to you as well. Too pleasant a day to stay indoors, don’t you think?” He looked back to Caroline and cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to want to go on a drive in the fastest car in Teaville?”
Considering he was one of four townsmen who’d purchased an automobile just to race it, Mercy couldn’t help but smile at his boast.
Caroline fidgeted. “Unfortunately, I’m busy.”
Henri’s face stayed unaffected, though Caroline’s constant rejection had to hurt. “I understand.”
“I mean . . .” Caroline shuffled her feet and moved Katelyn to her other shoulder. “I could’ve gone, but we’ve had a crisis. Mrs. Sorenson left in a huff, taking all her donations for the auction with her. I expect Mercy’s going to ask us to start scrounging up replacements. We’ve only got four days.”
He looked over his shoulder, as if he could still see the Sorensons, but then turned back, his eyebrows scrunched. “Why would Mrs. Sorenson do that?”
As if having a roomful of people watch her lose half the auction’s donations hadn’t been bad enough, Mercy now had to recount her misstep to Henri. “I’m afraid it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed Mrs. Sorenson knew all proceeds would go to Max and Robert. She thought her donations could be used for other projects as well.”
Caroline shook her head. “Mercy’s making it sound more benign than it was. Mrs. Sorenson knew very well that this auction was for the boys, but she wanted to change the rules since she thought they didn’t deserve as much as we were lik
ely to get.” Caroline readjusted Katelyn, who’d started to fuss.
“But I should’ve found a way to stand up to her without making her mad.” Mercy sighed. “What do you think, Mr. Beauchamp? You’ve been invited to the auction. If seventy percent of the items listed on the auction bill aren’t there, wouldn’t you be upset?” She turned to frown at Caroline. “I think we should call it off. The chance of us collecting enough to make this worthwhile is near nil now.”
Henri rubbed his chin. “What about my car?”
Mercy waited for him to continue, for surely he didn’t mean he wanted to donate his car.
Caroline sputtered. “Your car?”
“Yes, my car. I know several men who’d have a bidding war over it.”
“Your car?” Caroline repeated, her expression dumbfounded.
Henri only nodded, though his lips wriggled a bit.
He truly meant to donate it? Something fluttered in Mercy’s stomach. Though she wanted this auction to be a success, she couldn’t imagine someone giving up something so precious on behalf of orphans he didn’t know. Mercy laid her hand against his arm. “I appreciate that, Mr. Beauchamp, I really do, but maybe you should think about it more before you commit.” He wouldn’t be able to replace his vehicle without traveling to a big city and spending a great deal of money. And did he really want to donate that much to Max and Robert? His support was certainly encouraging, but she had no intention of asking people to pauper themselves on Max and Robert’s behalf.
“I already have.” Though he was responding to her, he was looking at Caroline. “I’ve been thinking about selling it, since I hope to need more than two seats in the future. I might as well donate it to a good cause, yes?”
Caroline’s expression was half astonishment, half . . . longing?
“So . . . about that drive?” Henri’s voice wavered, but he held out his arm to Caroline. “Since I’ll be getting rid of my speedster sooner than expected, I’d enjoy your company.”
For some reason Caroline looked to her.
Mercy leaned closer to whisper in the woman’s ear. “If his past is all that’s making you hesitate, why don’t you try focusing on his future instead?”
When she stepped away, Caroline still looked indecisive.
Mercy nodded, as if trying to encourage a child to be brave.
Caroline took a deep breath. “All right.”
Henri’s face wasn’t big enough to contain his smile.
“How about I take Katelyn?” Mercy said.
Henri hurried to open the passenger door while Caroline disentangled herself from the baby. After helping Caroline into the passenger seat, Henri gave Mercy a grin and a wink before heading to his own side.
Caroline looked positively stiff. Mercy almost felt the need to take in a few deep breaths on her behalf. When Henri zipped off, Caroline had to loosen up or risk getting battered, considering Henri seemed intent on showing her how fast his little car could go in the space of a heartbeat.
If there was indeed a bidding war, his sleek two-seater might bring in enough for the Milligans to live two to three years in Boston.
She’d known that standing up to Mrs. Sorenson had been the right thing to do, but she’d not even thought to ask God to save the auction—she’d just written it off as ruined.
And here He’d rescued them within the hour.
If she exposed her brother, would God somehow make that right too?
A throat cleared to her right, startling her. Thankfully she’d had a good hold on the baby.
Aaron stepped onto the porch, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry for scaring you.” He lifted up his pruners. “I didn’t think you noticed me with how loud Henri’s car was.”
“No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” She smiled despite the day’s troubles. Aaron hadn’t spoken to her much today, not with the dragging up and down of Mrs. Sorenson’s things. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his large yet humble presence.
He wasn’t quite looking her in the eye, and he fiddled with his pruners as if he couldn’t decide which hand should hold them. “I don’t have a fancy car, but I do have legs. Would you be willing to go on a walk with me?”
Her heart fluttered a little.
If someone had told her just weeks ago that her heart would skip a beat over George Aaron Firebrook, she’d have called them mad.
Perhaps she should stop worrying so much about what needed to happen with the orphans and her family and wait to see what crazy, wonderful things God seemed eager to orchestrate all on His own.
“I think that sounds delightful.” She couldn’t have wiped her smile off if she’d tried.
His expression, a mixture of pleasure and panic, made her smile all the more.
26
Aaron stood frozen under the portico. Mercy had actually agreed to take a walk with him? And with a big smile on her face, no less? His hands were so slippery, he had to hold tight to his pruners to keep from dropping them.
Mercy looked over her shoulder at the mansion’s front door and frowned. “Though maybe I ought to check on Sadie before I do anything for pleasure.”
Pleasure? Had she just equated a walk with him as pleasure? “Sadie and Franklin are talking in the rose garden. Their conversation didn’t look as if it needed an audience, so I found somewhere else to be.” Though it wouldn’t have been the first time this month he’d overheard a couple’s emotional turmoil.
Mercy patted Katelyn on the back, staring off into space. “Where would we walk?”
He’d not thought that far ahead, considering he’d braced himself to be turned down. But after seeing Caroline reconsider spending time with Henri, he’d thought he’d try.
Where could they go? He looked around, then pointed down to the right of the long driveway, where a pond lay hidden in the trees at the base of the hill. “The front pond?”
She grimaced. “That’s quite a walk with a baby.”
“I could get the carriage.”
Her expression was seconds away from telling him no.
“Or maybe we could walk the driveway, if you’d rather. Give me a second.” He propped his clippers against the wall and headed inside before she could say no. What was he thinking to suggest pushing a baby carriage to the pond over soggy ruts and bumps?
Owen skipped into the entryway and smiled up at him. Aaron rubbed his smooth jaw. Shaving had been worth seeing that smile, even if he did cringe at his reflection every morning. “Do you know where the baby’s carriage is? Miss McClain needs it.”
The boy shrugged, then looked out the open front door. “Where’s she going?”
“Well, we were going to the pond, but—”
“I want to go to the pond.” The little boy’s lower lip curved downward in an exaggerated pout.
How could he not ask the boy to come along, especially since he’d not had much time with him this past week? Maybe he and Mercy could take turns carrying the baby. “Would you like to go with us?”
Owen bounded up on the balls of his feet. “Could I drive Katelyn in the pony cart? I’ll be real slow and careful, just like Mr. Lowe always says.”
He’d seen Lowe let Owen drive Buttons several times. The nag wouldn’t go fast even if a tornado chased her. But Owen was only five. “I don’t think so. Maybe when you’re older.”
“What if Robert did it?”
“Did what?” The older boy had just walked into the foyer, his face now scrunched in confusion.
“Drive me and Katelyn to the pond in the pony cart!” Owen ran up to Robert and grabbed him tightly around the waist, looking up at him with big sad eyes. “Please?”
Robert just looked down at him with a sigh. “Will you leave me alone for the rest of the afternoon if I do?”
“Yes!” Owen jumped nearly a foot, then ran straight out the door.
Aaron had to swallow his desire to chuckle at the look of long-suffering on Robert’s face. “He’s been that clingy, huh?”
“He almost makes m
e wish school wasn’t out for summer.” Robert drew in a deep breath as he shuffled past toward the front door. “I don’t think I can take another minute of him begging me to play with his farm animals.”
“You’ve likely made his day.” Aaron disappeared into the basement and grabbed the bassinet Caroline used whenever she went into town with the wagon.
Mercy was sitting on the low wall at the edge of the portico when he returned. “The boys are going?”
“I hope that’s all right.” He took a step forward, fiddling with the bassinet in his hands. “The pony cart will make taking Katelyn to the pond easier, and Owen wants to go. Though with how slow Buttons clomps along, it might take all night.”
Mercy smiled at him in a way that made his heart thump harder. “It’s fine. I’m glad he wants to spend time with you.”
Could it be she’d not only forgiven him but had lost all of her mistrust of him in regard to the children too? He rubbed his hands against his trousers as he followed her toward the carriage house. Even if she had, that didn’t mean their tentative friendship would become something more.
And yet that smile . . .
In the carriage house, Jimmy, without protest, helped Robert attach Buttons to the pony cart. Seemed Mercy and Lowe’s decision to give Jimmy chores in the carriage house instead of the mansion had been a good move. Though his submissive behavior might be based more on having seen Zachary run off the property with a bloody nose and a couple black eyes.
Aaron pressed his lips together to keep from apologizing for the fight again. The last time he’d tried, Jimmy had quit talking to him altogether.
“There,” Robert said as he helped Owen onto the seat. “We’re ready to go.”
Buttons was much less ready. She sighed repeatedly as she took her time backing out of the carriage house.
Once Robert got Buttons onto the drive, Mercy settled Katelyn into the back and strapped the bassinet down. “Go no faster than a walk.”
A Chance at Forever Page 22