A Changed Agent

by Tracey J. Lyons

  “Does the answer to his prayers have to be you, Elsie?” he asked.

  “Psalm 127 talks about children being a heritage from the Lord. And you know there are many more verses about taking in orphans,” she said quietly to prove her case. “I met Mr. Benton and those children for a reason. Let me try to help them.”

  “I know you’re going to go live with them no matter what I say.”

  “Father, it would be so much easier if I had your blessing.”

  He was silent for a moment and then said, “Let us join hands in prayer.”

  The trio formed a small circle alongside the wagon. His voice carried softly on the breeze. “Heavenly Father, I beseech you to guide Elsie as she begins yet another new journey in her life. Keep her safe and help her to make a warm and loving home for Harry and Minnie. Guide me so I can guide my daughter. Amen.”

  Elsie and her mother followed with amens of their own. Her father came to her and took her hands in his strong grip.

  “Right now I’m only giving you my half blessing.” He smiled down at her. “I love you and only want you to be happy. But you must know this isn’t what I think is best for you.”

  She nodded, thankful her father was going to let her go. “I understand, Father. Thank you.”

  Smiling, Elsie went to give her mother a hug. Holding her mother close, she said, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know. You’re my brave girl.”

  Releasing her mother, she hoisted herself up onto the wagon seat. The ride to town proved to be uneventful. When her father started to head toward the Oliver house, Elsie informed him, “I’ll get off at the bakery. I need to speak with Amy.”

  Abiding by her wishes, her father changed course, eventually stopping the wagon in front of the bake shop. Resting the leather reins loosely between his fingers, he turned to her. “Elsie, I know you want to help this family, but if you are for one second not comfortable there, for any reason, you bring those children and yourself back home.”

  “Papa, this is what I’m supposed to be doing.” Tapping her chest lightly, she added, “My heart is telling me that helping out this man and those children is right.” She gave him a quick hug and departed the wagon. She saw the doubt reflected in his light-blue eyes, but bravely she waved him off.

  Gathering her skirts, she stepped onto the wooden walkway in front of Amy’s. Peering into the steamy window pane, she saw her friend standing behind the counter, putting this morning’s freshly baked cinnamon rolls on a large tray. Amy saw her and waved her in, her blue eyes sparkling.

  “Good morning, Amy!”

  “Elsie! I was hoping you’d find some time to stop by. I’ve missed you.” Brushing the flour from her hands, she came around the counter to pull Elsie into a warm embrace. “I’m so happy you’ve returned,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad to be back. I’ve so much to tell you.”

  “How about some tea?”

  “Tea would be wonderful. To be truthful, I had to be up before the crack of dawn this morning and I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

  She followed Amy through to the room where all the wonderful confections were lovingly mixed and baked.

  Taking a teapot and matching cups with saucers down from the shelf over the sink, Amy set them on top of a small table situated in the far corner of the room. She measured some tea leaves into the pot and then filled it from a kettle on the stove.

  “Is it true what I’ve been hearing? That you’re moving into John Oliver’s grandmother’s old house?”

  Living in a small town, Elsie knew it was impossible to keep something like this a secret, and yet she was still surprised by how quickly the news had reached her friend. She wished she had made the time to tell her herself.

  “It is and I am. Actually, that’s the reason I’m here so early.” When Amy frowned at her, she quickly added, “I’m going to be helping Mr. William Benton care for his niece and nephew. They were recently orphaned. He came to town to take a job at the Oliver Lumber Company.”

  “Those poor children!”

  “They’ve been through a very difficult time. They need someone to help care for them. I’ll have my own apartment. It’s situated off the kitchen,” she explained. Then it dawned on her that perhaps Amy might be upset because she would no longer have the time to help out at the bakery. “Amy, I’m so sorry. I do appreciate your offer to let me come work here.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I can find a replacement for you,” she replied. Walking over to the sideboard, she put some lemon-drop cookies on a small plate. Bringing them back to the table, she offered one to Elsie. “I’m worried about you. First you leave on this trip to Albany, and then you’re not even back here for two days and you’re moving in with this family.”

  Elsie knew that Amy had her best interests at heart and wasn’t trying to be critical, yet somehow she felt that her friend thought she might be acting impulsively.

  “By doing this, I’m killing two birds with one stone. Mr. Benton desperately needs someone to help with the children, and I’m earning extra money.” She left out her plans to one day soon be able to afford to travel on a ship. Amy didn’t always approve of her wanderlust, so she added, “Mr. Oliver gave a good argument as to why this arrangement would work out.”

  “John Oliver was involved in this?” Amy raised her pale eyebrows in surprise.

  Elsie sipped at the tea, noticing the light blush on her friend’s face. Amy had been smitten with that man for months.

  “You could say he orchestrated the entire thing. He had us come to his office practically the moment we stepped off the train. He knows how much I want to plan my next trip and is aware of what my teacher’s salary is. It’s really little more than a stipend. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

  Amy smiled and said, “It’s a good thing you’re devoted to the cause of educating Heartston’s children.”

  “The proper education of those children is my life,” she replied.

  “You are the best teacher this town has ever had. Enough about this. I want to hear about your trip to Albany. You must have gone to dinners and had afternoon teas!”

  “I went to one of the finest tearooms. It was on Ogdon Street in a lovely establishment. We had cucumber sandwiches with watercress, and some of the slices of bread even had smoked fish.”

  “I’d love to have a tearoom here. I know they have afternoon teas over at the Great Camps on Blue Mountain Lake every Sunday. I don’t think Heartston would have enough people to support one, though. All those lumberjacks prefer the saloon.” Elsie fought back a scowl as she thought about finding Mr. Benton there yesterday. It was a good thing she’d seen the children when she did. Lord only knew the harm that might have come to them.

  “Maybe we could go over to one of the afternoon teas?” Amy was still talking about tearooms. “We could get all dressed up in our best finery and maybe find a gentleman or two to accompany us.”

  “Ha! Do you think any of these lumberjacks would even have proper clothing? Besides which, most of them are so exhausted by the time Sunday comes around that they end up sleeping the day away.” All this talk was nothing more than wishful thinking. Elsie feared she’d be so busy getting the Benton household in order over the coming days, there would be little free time.

  “Perhaps I could convince John Oliver to accompany me.” Amy cast a wistful look toward the building across the street.

  “And here I thought you’d forgotten all about him,” Elsie said, teasing her friend.

  “How can I forget about him when I see him nearly every day? Most mornings he drops in for one of my muffins.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll ask him to stay for tea.” Her comment brought another fresh blush to Amy’s cheeks.

  “Tell me some more about your trip,” Amy said, clearly changing the subject. “You know I never get to leave here, and I love listening to your adventures.”

  Last year, Amy’s parents had taken her younger b
rother and sister and gone to Connecticut to live. Her mother’s sister had been ailing for some time and needed help. Amy hadn’t wanted to leave her life here in Heartston and had convinced her family that she could keep the bakery going until their return. This left Amy to run the bake shop on her own. It also left her with little free time.

  Elsie had thought about not telling anyone about her run-in with her former fiancé, Virgil Jensen. But Amy would know exactly what to make of his actions. So, after nibbling on a bit of a cookie, she swallowed and began her tale.

  “Two weeks ago, the day after I arrived in Albany, Aunt Olga and Uncle George took me to dinner at this delightful restaurant situated on the Hudson River. We were in the middle of our second course, oysters on a half shell—”

  Amy interrupted. “They sound like they tasted heavenly.”

  “The oysters were dressed with a spicy bit of red sauce, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. But it’s the usual fare for them on a Friday evening.”

  “This sounds so glamorous compared to Heartston.”

  “Don’t get all dreamy-eyed, Amy. Too much rich food is not good for the digestion, I’m afraid.” Elsie left it to Amy’s imagination. “City life is so different from ours here in the country. The air is quite dirty from all the factories. I missed the trees and I missed all of my students.”

  “They were all right here where you left them. I’m sensing something happened while you were at this dinner.”

  “Yes.” She moved to the edge of her chair, leaning toward Amy. She lowered her voice, saying, “We were right in the middle of our oysters when Virgil Jensen showed up at our table.”

  Coughing on the tea she’d just swallowed, Amy drew in a breath and sputtered, “The Virgil Jensen? Your former betrothed?”

  “Yes. The very same. He was the last person I expected to see while on holiday.”

  “How did he look?”

  “He looked horrible. A shell of the man he once was.”

  A small gasp escaped Amy.

  Elsie nodded, still feeling much the same shock at his condition. “He is rail thin, with long, unkempt hair. Remember how he always prided himself on his appearance? I don’t think he’d bathed in weeks. Frankly, I’m not even certain how he was allowed into the establishment.”

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “What did he say to you?”

  “He asked how I was faring and if I still taught school.” She reached for another lemon cookie before continuing. “Then he asked if he could call on me at my aunt and uncle’s house.”

  “I hope you told him no. I for one haven’t forgotten how he just up and left you after proposing, leaving you so heartbroken.”

  Waving a hand in the air, Elsie tried to appear indifferent to Amy’s comment. The truth was she had been shattered when Virgil left her. She’d thought she’d found the man of her dreams, one who would take care of her, provide a nice home, and give her children. But that hadn’t happened. Virgil Jensen had been her betrothed one day, and the very next day he was gone.

  She hated remembering how it had been to pick up the pieces of her heart, to be forced to carry on, going about her teaching job and being in public when everyone in Heartston knew how she’d been deceived. But she’d carried her head high and persevered, somehow surviving the embarrassment and the hurt of his betrayal.

  “Elsie? Did you see him again?”

  She nodded, eliciting another gasp from Amy. “He came by the very next day. I couldn’t just turn him away.” She paused, deciding to voice her concerns. “Amy, I fear there is something dark going on inside of him. He’s not the same man I knew. The look he gave me when he asked me to carry a packet back to Heartston for him, it was as if he were battling some sort of demons.” A shiver went through her as she remembered. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but I felt I had to help him. I told him I’d bring the packet here and put it in safekeeping for him. Now I’m not sure I did the right thing.”

  “You did what you thought you had to do. Elsie, I’ve never known you to turn away a person in need. Tell me, what was inside the packet?”

  “I never looked.”

  “What do you think is in it?”

  “I don’t know. I can only imagine something important. Otherwise, Virgil wouldn’t have given it to me.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “I left it at my parents’ house.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back for it?”

  Elsie sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “About your living arrangements with Mr. Benton and the children,” Amy said. “Elsie, are you certain this is what you want to be doing?”

  “I am. From the first time I saw them standing on the platform at the train station in Albany, I could tell something wasn’t right. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if my trunk hadn’t fallen from the porter’s wagon! There I was, standing with my clothing strewn at my feet! Their uncle came to my aid.” She felt her face burning as she thought about how he’d handled her delicates.

  Across from her, Amy chuckled. “Let me guess, you had some of your silk stockings in the trunk and this Mr. Benton saw them.”

  “Worse. He picked them up and handed them to me.” Shaking a finger at the grin on Amy’s face, she scolded, “This is not funny!”

  “I’m so sorry . . . Elsie, I’ve seen your chemises and know about your fondness for those silk stockings.” She managed to stifle the next giggle.

  Leaning in close, Elsie lowered her voice even though there was no one else in the shop at this hour. “It isn’t proper for a gentleman to see a lady’s unmentionables. Or have you forgotten your manners, Amy?”

  Wiping her eyes, Amy shook her head, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “The image of you and Mr. Benton together picking up your unmentionables.”

  “You wouldn’t find the situation funny if it had been you, Miss Amy Montgomery!”

  Remembering the incident set Elsie to blushing again. The man’s grin had told her he liked what he saw. For all her innocence, she recognized desire when she saw it. She imagined he was the sort of man who could have a woman swooning at his feet with just a glance. Elsie wished she could say she’d been immune to his look, but that would be a lie. The minute he’d picked up her stockings and looked at her with those dark eyes, she’d felt something akin to a storm brewing in the pit of her stomach.

  And now she’d agreed to reside in the same house with him and the children. The children needed her. No matter what, deep in her heart, she knew her thoughts and actions were for the benefit of Minnie and Harry. They needed her. Even if she did feel the slightest bit of interest in their uncle, she would keep her distance from Mr. Benton. To Amy she said, “I’ve prayed hard about this family, and I feel the Lord wants me to be with them.”

  Amy reached across the table, patting her hand. “Then that is where you should be. You also need to be honest with yourself. Are you sure there isn’t something else going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean are you attracted to Mr. Benton?”

  She shook her head. She wouldn’t let herself think about the man as anything other than the children’s uncle. “Don’t be silly, Amy. I’m only there to help with Harry and Minnie.”

  Amy began to clear up their dishes. “So where does this leave you and Mr. Jensen?”

  “I’m going to continue to keep him in my prayers. I fear he’s fallen on some very hard times. And I suppose I’ll keep his packet in a safe place until he comes for it.”

  The bell above the bake shop’s door rang as a customer entered. Elsie caught the way Amy checked her hair, then quickly changed her dust-covered apron for a clean one.

  She saw John Oliver striding over to the service counter. Taking the dishes from her, Elsie nudged her arm with an elbow. “You go on and take care of him. I can see to the dishes.”

  Pulling her into a quick hug, Amy thanked her.

  After clearing their tea service, Elsie walked out from the back room and Mr.
Oliver bid her good morning.

  “I hope you found the apartment to your liking.”

  “I did. My father helped me bring my things over earlier this morning.”

  “Good. I’m pleased everything is going to work out for you and Will.”

  Anxious to see how Minnie and Harry had fared last night, she gathered her things. The wall clock struck eight times. “Oh dear! Look how the time is getting on. I have to go open up the schoolhouse. Thank you again for tea, Amy.”

  Chapter Six

  Stepping outside, Elsie was hailed by the town’s postmaster, Avery Scott, a short, balding, bespectacled man. Crossing the street to see what all his fuss was about, Elsie said, “Good morning, Mr. Scott. It looks like it’s going to be a fine day!”

  “Indeed.” Stepping aside, he held the door open. She entered the post office ahead of him. The small office was located in the front portion of a two-story building. The Scott family occupied the back and upstairs of the rest of the house.

  She heard the scurrying of feet above her head and tilted her head toward the ceiling. “I hope this means the children are excited to come to school today?”

  Mr. Scott appeared embarrassed that the family’s noises could be heard in the office. “With you as their teacher, my children are always happy to go to school. Although Avery Jr. has been putting up a bit of fuss this morning.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine once he gets settled at his desk. So, why did you beckon me over here?” She hoped it was because the travel book she’d been waiting weeks for had finally arrived.

  He picked up a good-sized package from his desk and handed it to her. “I found this in this morning’s mailbag.”

  She took a look at the return address, pleased to see “Hardy Publishing, New York, New York” in neat block print. “Thank you, Mr. Scott! This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

  “I see it’s from a New York publisher. Another schoolbook perhaps?”

  “A very important one.” Gathering the book in her arms, she all but hugged it. “I must be going. Thank you again.”