by Jody Hedlund
Elizabeth reached for Marianne’s clammy hands and held them in her soft unblemished ones. “What I’ve learned is that courage takes many forms. And it takes a very special kind of strength to love these orphans and then to let them go.”
Marianne’s eyes welled with tears in earnest, and her throat was too thick to speak.
“You have that special strength and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, especially yourself. Sometimes we’re our own worst enemies.”
A soft rap at the door of the sitting room was followed by a maid entering, holding the hand of a talkative child who was dressed in so many layers of pink ruffles and white lace she looked like a dainty porcelain doll. Her blond hair was styled in perfect dangling ringlets and tied in place by a big matching pink bow.
At the sight of Elizabeth on the sofa, the child broke free of the maid and ran to Elizabeth. “Mommy!” she called, her smile wide with delight.
For a moment, Marianne could only watch the little girl in stunned disbelief. Was this Dorothea? The skinny frightened child with red puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks who’d cried through most of the trip?
Her beautiful brown eyes filled with adoration as she flung herself into Elizabeth’s open arms. Elizabeth hugged the girl so tightly that Dorothea giggled.
“We have a guest, darling,” Elizabeth said, pulling back and helping to smooth all the ruffles back into place on Dorothea’s dress.
Only then did Dorothea seem to notice Marianne’s presence. Marianne smiled at the child. But instead of the cheerful welcome that Marianne expected, Dorothea shrank against Elizabeth, and fear transformed her face into the one Marianne remembered.
“Good morning, Dorothea,” Marianne said, suddenly filled with uncertainty. Maybe she shouldn’t have come.
“It’s fine, darling,” Elizabeth said, holding Dorothea’s hand but maneuvering the young girl so she was standing up straight and no longer clinging. “Miss Neumann is only here for a visit. She’s come to make sure you are happy and like your new home.”
At the words of reassurance, some of the fear in Dorothea’s face fell away and she looked at Marianne shyly. “Your mommy is right, Dorothea,” Marianne said. “I’ve been worried about you and have been praying you like your new home.”
Dorothea glanced down at her shoes, which were shiny white patent leather with tiny pink bows on top.
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Marianne, one that told her everything would be all right and to be patient. Marianne nodded in understanding.
“Why don’t you tell Miss Neumann all about your new home?” Elizabeth suggested.
Dorothea glanced up, but only halfway, and whispered, “Please don’t take me away.”
The trembling statement was like a dagger plunging into Marianne’s heart. Though she felt like weeping for the girl, Marianne smiled bravely. “You don’t need to worry about going away again, Dorothea. This is your new home now, and you’ll never, ever have to leave it.”
Dorothea’s head lifted a little higher and she met Marianne’s gaze, this time with a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. “I won’t?”
“Never.” Marianne pushed the word past her tight airway and blinked back more tears. “Your new mommy loves you, and you get to stay with her forever.”
Dorothea smiled and turned to Elizabeth. “I love my new mommy too.”
Elizabeth wrapped Dorothea into another embrace.
The day with Dorothea and the Garners was one Marianne would treasure forever. It was a joy to see Dorothea blossom before her eyes into a talkative child full of laughter and smiles and inquisitiveness. Elizabeth doted on her, and it was clear the two were meant for each other.
It wasn’t until Marianne was back at the hotel and in bed that she realized she hadn’t thought of Drew all day. Lying in her bed and staring out the open window into the starry summer night, her chest ached with a pain that felt as deep and dark as the universe.
She pictured him as he’d first appeared when stepping into the parlor. He was thinner and with dark circles under his eyes. But he was as devastatingly handsome as always with his sandy hair combed into submission, his cheeks and jaw smooth from a recent shave, and his lips hard and determined.
When she gazed into his blue-green eyes, she’d seen that look again, the one that made her believe he loved her. If it wasn’t love, then it was definitely something close to it. The desire for her had been so palpable, it was a living force that swirled between them and would have drawn them together, except it had become increasingly clear Drew’s father intended to do all he could to keep them apart.
A fine Southern gentleman like him might have once intimidated her. Yet based on what Drew had told her about his father, she’d already disliked him before she’d made his acquaintance. She supposed he loved Drew in his own way. After all, he’d traveled to Illinois with all haste and had managed to free Drew from jail.
Even so, Mr. Brady didn’t understand his son, didn’t see what a good man he was, nor realize how talented he was with children. If only the man would open his eyes and see Drew for who he really was and not what he wanted him to become.
Marianne kicked off her sheet, slipped out of bed, and padded to the window. Elizabeth Garner’s words had been echoing through the corridors of her mind. “It takes a very special kind of strength to be able to love these orphans and then to let them go.”
She hadn’t thought of that before. But Elizabeth was right. It took more courage to love in the face of loss than to close oneself off out of fear of getting hurt. The children had needed her unconditional love. She’d given freely of herself, poured everything into them. And in the end she’d had to let them go, which tore at her heart.
It had taken courage to be an agent. And it would take even more strength to do it again. Could she handle another trip? She peered up into the starry sky. There were as many orphans in New York City roaming the streets and languishing in the orphanages as there were stars that she could see.
Maybe she wouldn’t be able to find them all homes and parents like Dorothea’s or like George and Peter’s, but if she helped even a few of the children to find happiness, wasn’t the pain and heartache worth it?
Was that the lesson her mother had been trying to teach her?
Marianne turned and crossed to the bedside table. She touched the girl figurine on the music box and reverently fingered each of the geese. She cranked the handle until it was wound tightly, then watched as the music box spun, listening to the sweet melody that filled the quiet of the bedroom.
She didn’t have to let the difficult situations take away her joy. God could help her walk through the hardships so she could find new strength and joy on the other side. If God could do that for her, could He do the same for Drew?
Something else Elizabeth Garner said had stayed with Marianne throughout the day. “Sometimes we’re our own worst enemies.” For too long she’d let her insecurities dictate her life—long before Sophie had run away. But once Sophie had gone, she’d let the insecurities clamp down on her like chains, holding her prisoner.
She wanted to break free, to live the way Elizabeth did. Even if the day was challenging and hard, she wanted to get up and live life to the fullest. Could she help Drew come to the same realization, that he too could break free of the chains he kept locked around his heart?
The melody of the music box drifted into silence, leaving the room with a stillness and peace that made Marianne sense the presence of God in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
“I want to help him, God,” she whispered as she fell back onto her bed, the rusty frame squeaking beneath her. His trial had been set for a week from today. Her mind began to spin, and a plan slowly took shape until she smiled up at the ceiling.
“I promise that after I help him, I’ll let him go.” She knew that would be the hardest test of her courage she’d faced yet. Could she pour out herself for Drew, let herself love him, and in the end be willing to let him go?
; She had to be honest with herself, that yes, she loved him. She probably had all along. But she was bound to let him go the same way she was bound to let the orphan children go. Drew didn’t want her. And even if he did, she’d promised Reinhold she would marry him and couldn’t go back on that now. She was a woman of her word. Besides, Reinhold and his family needed her. She couldn’t let them down, even if it cost her the man she loved.
Chapter 24
Reinhold sat stiffly on a pew near the front of the church. The building was already packed full of people, and still more were entering and standing along the sides and in the back.
At least half of the faces were unfamiliar. He hadn’t lived in Mayfield all that long, but he thought he’d gotten to know most of the farmers and townsfolk. So where had these families come from? Had news of Andrew Brady’s trial spread, attracting the attention of people outside their community?
At the front, Drew sat next to an important-looking man dressed in a crisp black suit and matching vest. His white shirt had a high collar set off by a black bow tie. Drew was similarly attired, and it was easy to tell from their build and mannerisms they were father and son.
“When is this thing gonna start?” Liverpool muttered next to Reinhold. The boy had been resistant to coming, but when the judge had specifically requested his presence, Mr. Turner gave Reinhold the morning off in order to bring Liverpool to town.
“It’s supposed to start at nine o’clock,” Reinhold said, glancing around again for Marianne. He’d been looking for her since he pulled up in the wagon. She’d been gone all week visiting orphans in Benton to the north. But she said she’d be back for the trial.
Strangely, all week he’d been worried about her. Now that she was his wife-to-be, he felt a new sense of responsibility for her and didn’t like that she was traveling alone and unchaperoned. He’d thought often of her going back to New York City and having to fend for herself and his sisters there, and he didn’t like that either.
Mr. Turner had just paid him. Slowly and steadily, he was beginning to save again, and this time he’d buried his savings in a crock out in his potato field in a spot only he knew about. He only added to his savings when no one else was with him. He wasn’t taking any chances this time. He’d also been asking around for additional work, hoping he might find ways to earn extra cash.
He’d thought the idea of having Marianne as a wife to take care of his siblings would ease his mind and give him more time to get settled. Yet he realized now his sense of urgency had only increased. He wanted to care for and protect Marianne every bit as much as he did his sisters. The sooner he could settle into a place of his own, the better.
“I don’t want to go up there and talk,” Liverpool said, glaring at the judge, who sat at a table positioned at the front of the sanctuary. He was a short older man who was chatting in a friendly manner with the reverend.
For Drew’s sake, Reinhold was glad the judge didn’t seem too severe. After having met Drew and talked with him, Reinhold couldn’t shake the feeling that Drew was innocent. The man was defeated and hurting. That much was clear. Still, he was no murderer.
Liverpool had remained consistent in his version of what had happened the day of the murder. Although Liverpool hadn’t come right out and blamed Drew for Ned’s death, there was no other way to interpret the boy’s story. According to Liverpool, Drew had pushed Ned. And if Drew didn’t deny it, which he hadn’t yet, then what else could the judge do but conclude that Drew had killed Ned out of frustration?
“You’ve got to tell the truth.” Reinhold shifted in the packed pew so he was looking at Liverpool.
Liverpool’s eyes were hard and unflinching. “I already told you the truth.”
“I think you know more about what happened than you’re saying.”
“You think I’m lying?” Liverpool’s tone turned defensive.
Reinhold stared at the boy and attempted to see past the hard exterior. As much as he’d tried over the past few weeks to set a good example for Liverpool in what it meant to live with integrity, kindness, and fairness, he hadn’t seen much change in the boy—if any at all.
He was still just as sullen and antagonistic as he’d been the day he arrived at the Turner farm. In fact, Higgins seemed to take special delight in riling up the boy with snide comments so now Liverpool seemed more defensive and sullen than ever.
The only time Liverpool let down his guard was when they were alone together in the potato field. Every few evenings, Liverpool would follow Reinhold out to the field and help him hoe weeds. And on those nights, the boy would talk about his life in New York City, which filled Reinhold with sorrow because he realized the boy had never had a home—a real home, with a mother and father who cared about him.
Instead, Liverpool’s earliest memories had been of scrounging on the streets of Liverpool, England. He’d never known who his father was, and his mother had died in a brothel. At the age of six, he’d stowed away on a steamship with a friend and had arrived homeless and penniless in New York City, where he’d lived on the streets ever since and taken the name of the city of his birth.
Reinhold hadn’t asked about his real name. And he’d tried not to show any pity, which he guessed would only frustrate the boy. Reinhold had tried to be more patient and purposeful, taking extra care to show Liverpool how to tend the livestock, sharpen the tools, and work the fields. “Then you’ll be ready, just like I am, to have your own place someday.”
Although Liverpool complained often about the hard work and missing his life in the city, Reinhold suspected the boy was more satisfied with living on the farm than he let on. Reinhold hadn’t given up hope yet that God could transform Liverpool.
But at times like this, when Liverpool was sour and testy, Reinhold couldn’t keep from feeling discouraged.
“It’d be a shame for a good man like Mr. Brady to take the blame for something he didn’t do,” Reinhold said.
“He’s not a good man.”
“He did a good thing by bringing you out here, didn’t he?”
Liverpool glared at the back of Drew’s head. “He’s bossy and always thinks he knows best.”
Reinhold shifted his attention to Drew, who sat with his head bowed in his hands and his shoulders slumped. Drew probably did know what was best for Liverpool. But the boy had never had any discipline and had always been his own authority. How could he appreciate the sacrifices Drew and Marianne were making for orphans like him?
At a commotion at the back of the sanctuary, Reinhold craned his neck, along with everyone else, to see what was going on. To his surprise, Marianne breezed into the church with a wide smile on her face, as though she were arriving at a baptismal ceremony rather than a murder trial.
Not only was she exuding confidence and poise, but he couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she looked in the silk gown—likely one Elise had given to her. And she appeared so mature, so grown up and womanly.
She really was beautiful, especially her vivacious brown eyes that sometimes danced with merriment and other times with deep sadness. He was marrying her next week. After that, he’d get to take her in his arms and hold her. And he’d take her to his bed. The thought came to him unbidden and burned a slow trail through his gut. He hadn’t talked to Marianne about the finer details of their arrangement, but he had no intention of marrying a woman without making their marriage real in every sense. He didn’t anticipate Marianne would protest, but maybe he needed to clarify the nature of their marriage first.
The thought of speaking to her about such intimacies heated his face, making him watch her more closely and anticipate pulling her into his arms and burying his fingers into her thick hair.
Maybe God had ordained this marriage with Marianne. After all, if not for Drew calling him to his cell and revealing Marianne’s desire for him, the thought of marrying her never would have occurred to him.
He couldn’t stop from watching her march forward, realizing at the same time as everybody els
e that she hadn’t come alone but had a trail of children following her. The children were in order from shortest to tallest. Some were smiling shyly while others looked terrified.
Marianne searched the front as though looking for someone in particular. Reinhold waited for her to notice him, almost raised his hand to draw her attention. But her gaze came to rest on someone else, and her smile widened.
Reinhold noticed she was looking directly at Drew and that he’d snapped out of his broken stupor—at least momentarily—and was staring back at her. He wasn’t smiling, but his attention was riveted to her like a thirsty man to a cold, fresh creek. As before, when he’d seen Drew in jail, Reinhold could tell that the man loved Marianne.
Reinhold returned his attention to Marianne. She was close enough that he could have whispered her name, snapped his fingers, or done something to remind her he was here. But something shining in her eyes stopped him. Love.
Everything within Reinhold ceased functioning as the realization seeped into him. Not only was Drew in love with Marianne, she obviously loved him too. She had eyes and thoughts for no one else in the room. Not even him—her fiancé.
After several long seconds, Reinhold’s pulse and breathing resumed but at twice the speed. What should he do? Why had Marianne agreed to marry him if she was in love with another man? She shouldn’t have given him such a promise. She shouldn’t have led him to believe she’d eventually care about him.
Even as he silently chastised her, self-reproach pointed a finger at him. He should have known the day he’d proposed to her. She was hesitant then and likely would have said no. Except he’d played his last card, and it had been trump. His sisters. He’d known Marianne would marry him to help him and his sisters. She was too tenderhearted to turn away from someone in need.