The toddler threw her arms about her neck and squeezed. “Papa gots me a puppy!” She leaned back, grabbed her fingers in her small hand and tugged. “Come see!”
“I would like to, sweetie, but…” She looked toward the door. Clayton was gone. And Eldora was watching. She fixed her mouth in a smile and kept her eyes down so the housekeeper could not read the hurt in them. “All right. I will come see your puppy.” She took Nora’s hand and walked outside.
“Hurry, Nanny!”
Sarah’s throat closed at the feel of Nora’s small hand tugging at hers. Tomorrow it would end forever. She blinked back tears. Everything she did today was so hard, so…devastating…because it was for the last time. There was no more clanging bell to be answered. Clayton was fully recovered. He had returned to his work on the Miami Canal last week. She had waited until she was sure he would not do himself harm, but it was only an excuse to delay her departure. Clayton was fine. It was time for her to go. Leaving would be excruciating, but staying was unendurable.
Sarah focused on the business at hand, lifted the bar and opened the carriage-house door. A small black-and-white bundle of fur barked and came running, tail wagging, ears flopping up and down. Nora plopped to the floor, giggling and squealing as the puppy jumped up and down licking her face and tugging on her hair.
Sarah closed the door so the dog could not escape and walked over to the horses. Pacer nickered a welcome, tossed his head and thrust it forward to be petted. She rubbed his silky muzzle and combed her fingers through his forelock. It was always tangled. He lowered his head and nudged her chest. She stepped back to keep her balance and something attacked her exposed ankle.
Sarah leaned down and scooped up the gray kitten who had flopped onto his back and was batting at her skirt hem. He was big enough to do damage now. She tucked him under her chin and scratched behind his ears. He purred his contentment. She reached out and patted Sassy’s neck, then sat on the feed chest and stroked the kitten’s fur. Wiggles was her favorite. Perhaps she would get a kitten when she went home.
Home. Not Randolph Court. Not anymore. Stony Point was her home. Her heart squeezed tears into her eyes. She wiped them away and held her breath to stop the flow. She would cry tomorrow. Today she must stay calm for Nora’s sake. She fixed a smile on her face.
“What is your puppy’s name, Nora?”
The toddler shrugged her shoulders.
“You have not named him? Well, that will not do. How will you call him to you if he has no name?” She put Wiggles down, walked over to Nora and lifted the puppy into the air to better see his face. He wiggled and twisted his body, trying to reach her cheek with his tongue. “What a rogue you are.” She put him back in Nora’s lap. “You could name him Scamper…or perhaps Trouble.”
“Uh-uh.” Nora shook her head, grinned up at her. “He be Rogue.”
Sarah looked down at the toddler sitting on the dusty, straw-strewn barn floor, holding a wiggling puppy in her pudgy arms, and memorized the picture she made. Every detail, from the bits of straw in her golden curls, to her happy smile, to the smudge of dirt on the stockings covering the short little legs sticking out from under the yellow-checked cotton play dress. This was the image she would remember when she thought of Nora in the years to come.
Sarah straightened the books and rearranged the stuffed animals that sat neglected on the shelf. Nora had lost interest in them since she was now free of the confines of this room and could go outside and play with live animals.
She turned and glanced around. So much had changed since she first walked into this room and was greeted by a harried young maid and a squalling toddler. She had changed. And she could not go back to simply being a pampered daughter in her parents’ house. When she returned to Philadelphia she would work full-time at the Twiggs Manor Orphanage. Her aunt Laina would be glad of the help. And there were always so many children in need, it would keep her too busy to dwell on memories. Her shoulders drooped. It seemed all she did was run from memories.
Sarah swallowed back a rush of tears and walked to the dressing room to check her appearance. It was time. Delaying the moment of truth only increased the agony. She brushed a few stray hairs into place, pinched some color into her pale cheeks and headed for the hallway door.
It seemed strange to use the main stairs. She had become accustomed to using the winder stairs that opened directly into the kitchen. They were much more convenient when Clayton was ill and she had carried food trays up and down at every meal.
A strip of golden lamplight gleamed under Clayton’s study door. He was still working. Sarah stopped, gripped the railing and held her breath for a count of ten. It helped. She continued down the last few steps, lifted her hand and knocked on his door.
“Come in!”
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away and lifted her chin. Almighty God, please help me not to cry. Please. I know pride is a sin, but right now it is the only weapon I have to keep my feelings from being revealed. It was a prayer unlikely to be answered, but it still made her feel better. She squared her shoulders and opened the door.
“Put the—” Clayton glanced up, rose from his chair, snatched his jacket off the back and shoved his arm into the sleeve. “Sorry, I thought you were Eldora with my coffee.” He shoved in his other arm and shrugged the jacket into place on his broad shoulders.
She did her best to ignore the frown furrowing his forehead. And his eyes. Though she need not have bothered. He seemed not to want to look at her. Well, she would be out of his life soon enough. “Forgive me for disturbing your work.”
“Not at all. I was going to talk with you when my report was finished.”
How ironic if he was about to dismiss her. Well, he would not do so! Sarah clenched her hands at her sides and dug her fingernails into her palms. “I have come to tell you I wish to return home to Philadelphia—immediately.” She took a breath, dug her fingernails in deeper. “Lucy can care for Nora until you can hire another nanny.” Thank You, Lord. I said it without breaking down. “I will leave tomorrow.” She stared up at Clayton. His face had that stony look again.
“I am afraid that is impossible, Miss Randolph.” He looked down, straightened his suit coat. “I believe I once mentioned to you that the fourth of this month is the tenth anniversary of the opening of the Miami Canal. And that as the engineer in charge of the repair work, I am to accompany the governor on a gala celebration trip up the canal to Dayton aboard a specially outfitted packet.” He looked up. “If you remember, I told you, the governor has requested that all those accompanying him bring their families along, and that provision has been made for young children and their nannies.”
So once again he was forced to accept her presence. “I thought Lucy—” She stopped, stared at the muscle twitching along his jaw.
“Lucy is not capable of this undertaking.” He picked up a book from his desk, turned and placed it atop the pile on the mantel. “The journey will take two days. You will need to include bedclothes for Nora in your packing. Please have everything ready by tomorrow afternoon. Directly after supper tomorrow night, Quincy will transport everything to the packet. We will board at nine o’clock the following morning.”
Sarah stood staring at his rigid back, torn by the conflicting needs of her heart. She should refuse. She should leave tomorrow as she had planned and end the torture of being where she was not wanted. But she could not go away knowing Nora was on a boat. A canal boat to be sure, but still a boat surrounded by water. She shuddered. “Very well. I will do as you ask. But I will have my possessions packed, and I will leave for Philadelphia as soon as we come back to Stony Point.” She turned and left his study, the curt nod of agreement he gave her stuck like a sword in her heart.
Nora was beside herself, trying to see everything at once. It was her first ride in the buggy, her first trip away from Stony Point, and she peppered Sarah and her father with questions. Sarah welcomed them. The short ride seemed endless.
“Here we a
re.” The buggy rolled to a stop. Clayton stepped down and held out his arms. “Come here, Nora.” The toddler leaned into his arms, stared wide-eyed at the commotion at the boarding site, and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Clayton shifted Nora to one arm and offered his hand.
Sarah steeled herself and placed hers in it. It was as she remembered, broad and warm, with calluses on the pads of the long fingers—but strong. Not flaccid and weak now, but so very strong. She should have worn gloves. She looked away from their joined hands, stepped from the buggy and held her arms out for Nora.
Clayton yielded his daughter to her, placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her through the crowd of people milling around a bandstand where a man was holding forth on a topic that was lost in the din. He urged her toward a packet boat decked out in red, white and blue streamers, with a large yellow banner that read Miami Canal—Ten-Year Anniversary, stretched along the pristine white railing that enclosed the open deck. A broad boarding plank slanted upward from the ground, spanned the narrow space of water between the packet and the docking area and continued its climb to the packet’s deck.
Sarah’s steps faltered. Her stomach knotted. She stopped walking and stared down at the water, felt the blood draining from her face, the strength leaving her legs. “Take Nora.” The words were a whisper, forced from her constricted throat.
“No. She is your charge, Miss Randolph. And ‘you are not so selfish as to put your fear above her needs’—are you?”
The challenge in Clayton’s voice firmed her will. “No. I am not.” Sarah lifted her chin, flashed a look up at him and stepped onto the gangplank.
He lowered his head. “Close your eyes. I will guide you. I promise, I’ll not let you fall. You are safe with me.”
His whisper fell soft upon her ear. His hand pressed more firmly against the small of her back, drew her ever so slightly closer to his side. It was amazing the courage his touch gave her. She braced herself against her response to his touch, to his nearness and hurried up the gangplank.
The courage left the moment she stepped onboard and felt the slight movement of the deck beneath her feet. She closed her eyes. Help me, O God. Take away—
“Bainbridge! I have been watching for you.”
Sarah snapped her eyes open at the hail. A short, stout man, wearing a gray suit with a brocaded, maroon vest, separated himself from a small group of men on the forward open deck area and hurried toward them.
“Good morning, Commissioner Thomas.” Clayton smiled and shook the man’s offered hand. “It looks as though we will have fine weather for our trip.”
“Indeed. Yes.”
The man skimmed his gaze over her, lingered for a moment on her face. Did her fear show? She lifted her chin. He flushed and focused his gaze on Nora.
“Is this your child, Bainbridge?”
Clayton nodded. “This is my daughter, Nora, yes. And—”
“Beautiful child.” The man clapped Clayton on the shoulder. “We have to hurry, Bainbridge. The governor wants you with him when he speaks, and he is about to begin.” He turned toward the front deck area, filled with people, then turned back. “Have your nanny get the child settled. Little ones get restless at these sort of ceremonies—and we will be on our way after the governor’s speech.” He gave her a cursory glance. “The children and nanny quarters are that way.” He pointed toward the narrow deck that ran along the left side of the centered cabin area.
Sarah glanced over the side of the boat at the water, caught her breath.
Clayton stepped to the outside edge of the narrow deck. His broad shoulders blocked her view of the water.
“I wish to see my daughter settled, Commissioner. I will join you in a moment.”
He thought she was too frightened to care for Nora. Sarah straightened, squared her shoulders. “Nora will be fine, Mr. Bainbridge. I will bring her to you after the governor’s speech.” She glanced at the short man waiting for him and dipped her head. “Commissioner Thomas.” She lowered Nora to the deck, took hold of her small hand and, gripping the rail on her left and fastening her gaze firmly on the highly varnished deck, walked down the narrow passageway.
“But I want to go see Mama and Grandpapa, Nanny Alice.”
Sarah paused at the sound of the young child’s voice and glanced at the open door of a room on her right.
“If you are searching for the children’s quarters, you have found them.”
The voice was soft, kind.
Sarah led Nora into the room. The cabin was small, with white painted walls, dark-blue coverlets on narrow berths attached to the walls and matching curtains at the windows that marched in a row above the beds. A small table with two chairs and two high children’s chairs constituted the furnishings. A plump, buxom young woman knelt beside an open door at the far end of the room straightening a little girl’s dress.
“So you have been banished to the nether regions with your charge until the festivities are over, also.” The woman motioned toward the wall beside her. “I have claimed these berths. Those on the side wall will be yours. And this—” she indicated the room behind her “—is a very small, but adequate, dressing room.” A smile warmed her round face. “There will be only the two of us sharing these quarters. I am Alice Gardner, and this—” she rose and took the child by the hand “—is my charge, Miss Portia Holbrook. The governor’s granddaughter.”
Sarah smiled. “I am Sarah Randolph, and this is my charge, Miss Nora Bainbridge. Her father is the engineer in charge of the canal repairs.” She glanced down at Nora, who had leaned back against her legs, then smiled at the other little girl. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Portia.”
Nora stirred, took her thumb from her mouth. “Me gots kitties an’ a puppy.”
“You have a puppy?” Portia tugged her hand from her nanny’s grasp and ran across the room to Nora. “What is his name?”
“He be Rogue. An’ the kitties be Happy an’ Wiggles an’ Fluffy an’ Bun’le. An’ we gots horsies, too.”
“We have horses. And I have a pony.” Portia leaped into the conversation, clearly not to be outdone in the pet department. “His name is Noodles. And he is gray with white spots…”
“It looks as if our charges are going to enjoy each other’s company.”
Sarah looked at Alice. She was peering out a window, looking up and down the narrow walkway outside. “Yes, it does.” She stepped to the two berths on the side wall. Their trunks rested on the floor beneath them. She leaned down and patted the mattress of the small one with the rail around it. It was softer than it appeared to be. “How old is Portia?”
“Almost four years.”
“Miss Gardner?” The voice was low and soft, somewhat urgent.
Alice’s face lit. She spun away from the window and hurried toward the open door. “Did you wish to speak with me, Mr. Adams?”
A young, brown-haired man, of medium height, stepped into the room. “If you have a moment, I am free until after the governor’s speech and I thought perhaps—” He stopped. His face flushed. “I see you are busy.” He backed toward the door.
Sarah looked at Alice, noted the disappointment wiping the smile from her face. “Pardon me, Miss Gardner. I do not mean to intrude on your conversation, but, if you feel comfortable with the suggestion, I would be happy to care for Portia while you speak with your gentleman friend.”
“Oh, I could not impose—”
“It is no imposition. I am sure Nora will be happy for the company.”
“Well…” Alice glanced at Mr. Adams. “Let me fetch my hat.” She hurried to a trunk, grabbed the hat resting on top and headed back for the door. “Thank you, Miss Randolph. I shan’t be long.”
There was a burst of cheering and applause. The boat moved. Sarah caught her breath, glanced at the children happily engrossed in picture books and stepped to a window. People on shore were milling about, calling and shouting to each other and those onboard. White handkerchiefs and small flags flu
ttered goodbye from the hands of old and young alike. Crew members shouted to one another. Young boys ran on the towpath, cheering and keeping pace as the packet began its slow-moving progress up the canal.
The excitement of the moment overwhelmed her apprehension. She bent down and snatched up the small sunbonnet resting on Nora’s berth. The little girl should not miss this occasion. And she had told Clayton she would bring Nora to him when the governor’s speech was finished. Sarah frowned and glanced toward the door. She could not leave Portia. Where was Miss Gardner?
The plump, young woman rushed through the door as if her thoughts had conjured her.
“Come, Portia. You are to join your mother and grandfather.” Alice Gardner lifted a bonnet out of Portia’s trunk, tied it on the child’s head and hurried toward the door. “Thank you, Miss Randolph.” The words floated over her shoulder as she disappeared in the flow of people walking by on the deck outside the cabin.
“You are most welcome.” Sarah laughed and turned to Nora.
“Me go see kitties.” Nora’s lower lip trembled. She held her arms up.
Sarah scooped her up and hugged her close. Poor little tyke, she was no doubt feeling overwhelmed by all the noise and excitement, the strange place and new experiences. “No kitties today, sweetie.” She infused her voice with excitement. “But I will take you out to your papa and perhaps he will let you watch the horses pull the boat. Would you like that?”
“Horsies?”
“Yes.” Sarah kissed Nora’s soft, silky cheek. “But first you need to visit the dressing room.”
The slight breeze played with the strands of hair that had escaped the red cord. Sarah frowned and lifted her hands to tuck the locks back under their restraint, saw Clayton glance her way and lowered them again. Perhaps he would not notice she had forgotten her bonnet again if she did not call attention to the fact.
“Who him?” Nora pointed a pudgy little finger toward the man walking alongside the horses on the towpath.
Family of the Heart Page 20