Love Conquers All (Cutter's Creek Book 14)

by Annie Boone

  Chapter 18

  Max watched a leaf blow over the slight dusting of snow on the ground as an icy wind surrounded him. Luckily, the ground hadn’t frozen yet. The preacher’s kind words floated to him, but he could barely concentrate on them. Instead, he stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down. Several people surrounded him, business associates, members of Hightower Publishing staff and heads of various charities Mr. Hightower had made contributions to.

  Behind him stood the doctor and Miss Markson. This morning when he had walked downstairs, he had seen expectation in her eyes, but he had just walked past her, not saying a word as he made his way to the carriage.

  He had no idea when she planned to leave the brownstone and go back to her former life. He worried she was staying, hoping he would propose to her. Even if he did, she’d still have to leave. She simply could not stay under his roof unless she was his mentor’s nurse or his wife. A nurse was no longer needed, and he wasn’t going to marry her.

  The thought that she hadn’t left yet filled him with agitation. Most everything agitated him at the moment, but he knew he still had to deal with her since she wasn’t taking the initiative to move on herself.

  Three days, he whispered. Three days since he lost his mentor. Three days he had been looking for Lana and having no clue of her whereabouts. It almost seemed as though some force kept them apart. As if the Lord didn’t want him to find her. But why? Why couldn’t they be together? He wanted to shout out the questions to Heaven, but it felt wrong to be angry at God. So, he held in his anger.

  As the pastor's last words floated to him, he looked up, realizing he had missed most of the service. Silence fell around the small crowd and all eye were fixed on him. He walked to a mound of dirt, picked up a handful, and let it fall on top of the lowered wooden casket. The man who had given him so much, provided him with a home and the love of a father, now lay in the ground. But Max reminded himself that Paul was in Heaven, free from pain and suffering. Part of Max wished he could join him, but that was the coward’s way out of his own doubt and hurt.

  He turned and slipped through the crowd, ignoring the well-wishers who tried to stop him and the business associates who wished to speak to him. He knew at some point, he would have to break from this grieving fog. He had a business to run, but it would take some time for him to get there.

  As he stepped around gravestones, his black boots crunching on frozen leaves and he thought of what he would like to do. Certainly, continue his search for Lana, but he knew no other place to look. The feeble search by the police had turned up nothing.

  The rushing of feet brought him out of his deep thoughts. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Miss Markson hurrying to him. Her cheeks were flushed from the sadness or perhaps from his indifference. She pulled her coat tighter around her and tried to step into rhythm with him.

  “How are you?” She reached to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm, but she wasn’t able to keep up with him.

  He barely heard her question and ignored her reaching the carriage. Once there, he stepped in and turned to see her standing as a tear slipped down her face. Guilt should be crashing around him. He knew he had hurt her, but his emotions were just too raw to reach out to her.

  He closed the carriage door and banged on the roof. Soon, it sped away. Through the window, he looked at the weeping willows that lined the graveyard and the headstones set close together. The sight was dreary and sad and he wanted to be almost any place than here.

  Max watched as the carriage pulled into the city and he spotted the merchants selling their wares on the side of the road, calling out to the passersby. The carriage rolled to a stop at the telegraph office. He would check for a message he was sure hadn’t arrived and then head home to busy himself in a novel, updates from the office, or his bed. Whichever one came closest to filling his emptiness the most.

  Once out of the carriage, the scent of fresh bread, pickles, and spicy meat floated to him, but despite the fact he had skipped breakfast, his stomach didn’t respond. Over the last few days, he had barely eaten and his body felt quite weak. He would force himself to eat something soon—he needed it to keep from dropping.

  He pushed open the glass door of the telegraph office and looked at the four or five tables filled with paper, and typewriters. Wires crisscrossed over several areas. A stale smell filled him as he concentrated on the constant tapping of the men sitting at each table.

  He cleared his throat and a man stood from where he knelt looking at a pile of paper. A smile pushed across his face as he went to his desk. “Ah, Mr. Tolbert. A message for you has come.”

  Energy shot through him. “It has?”

  He quickly walked to where the man stood and snapped the telegraph from his hands. He unfolded it and his eyes raced across the page. He stilled.

  Lana safe. Needs provided for. After that, leave her alone. Enjoy your new life.

  Max lowered the paper, clenching it in a fist. She was safe. Thank God for that, but why wouldn't Josh tell him where she was? This made no sense. He must know that he loved his sister and wished to take care of her. And why was he telling Max to enjoy his new life? The news that Mr. Hightower had died and left him a fortune most likely hadn’t reached him. Max certainly hadn’t shared that yet.

  Max looked back at the thin man with gray slicked back hair. “Is there another letter?”

  The man shook his head. “Just this one, but I’ll send the post boy to your house if another arrives.”

  Max turned and walked out of the office. He looked at the large buildings that reached up to the sky and the mass of people walking by. Ladies in fancy dresses stopped at storefront windows featuring pretty dresses and fancy hats. Men in top hats and suits rushing off to various offices or banks. This was a busy, bustling city, indeed.

  A shop girl stood outside the baker's door, holding up a basket of fresh bread trying to entice customers into the bakery. There were so many people. He would never be able to find her in all these people and for some reason, her brother wouldn't help him. Josh Garrett had clearly heard from her and had information that would help, but he withheld it. Why?

  He stepped into the carriage, shaking his head in frustration, and the driver closed the door. He sat on the plush seat, leaning his head back. As he focused on the intricate rose pattern of the upholstery, a sense of loss engulfed him. Lana was a precious jewel that was constantly dangled in front of him, and then snapped out of his reach when he tried to take hold of her. He had a feeling he would never be able to capture her. Was a life with her just not meant to be?

  Once back at home, Max walked in and spotted Miss Markson sitting on a wooden chair in the foyer with a few bags at her feet. She stood when he shut the door and looked in her direction. She wore a brown coat and a white bonnet. A weariness filled her eyes.

  How long had she been waiting there? Probably for hours. After he had left the telegraph office, he had stopped off at a few more inns but hadn’t found his ever-elusive Lana. Tomorrow, he’d have to stop at the Catholic church down the street. Maybe he would find her there, though he doubted it. The nuns only took in orphans. Besides, he figured Father Michael would have contacted him if Lana was staying with them. Unless he forgot, that is.

  Max shoved his hands in his coat pocket and stepped in front of Miss Markson. She was finally leaving and as she gathered her belongings, he tried to think of what to say to her. Could he just let her leave without letting her know there would be no future for them?

  “I must get back to my parent's home,” she whispered.

  “Take the carriage.”

  She nodded and looked off to the side, before she looked back at him, a plea in her eyes. He took a deep breath and slowly released. “I, um, well…”

  “I understand. It’s all right,” she whispered stepping around him. The look on her face said it really wasn’t all right and she really didn’t understand.

  He turned and watched her walk out the door. It closed w
ith a small thump. He didn’t quite know what she thought she understood, but his aloofness must have communicated to her what he couldn’t verbalize.

  He slipped his coat off and left it on the chair Miss Markson had just vacated. As he walked into the parlor, he looked around the room. It was cozy and warm and didn’t tell the story of his recent heartbreaks. He sighed and sat on the settee and put his feet on the table.

  He let images of Lana float through his mind. Her sweet laugh, her gentle ways. He could picture her standing next to him at the Christmas Social Dance in front of the fire. She had leaned close as she whispered details of one of her tales. That had been almost a year ago, yet he remembered it like it was yesterday.

  He was exhausted and found himself drifting off to sleep. Perhaps soon he would be with her. She always liked to visit him in his dreams.

  Chapter 19

  Walking behind the nuns, Lana went into the orphanage and spotted the priest running up the large brown staircase that led to the sleeping quarters of the children. She turned to look at Sister Mary, whose gaze was focused on the stairs. Her brows knitted together, and clearly, she wondered the same thing as Lana.

  Two of the nuns with her headed to the nursery while Sister Mary followed the priest. Lana looked at the door that led to the nursery. Faintly, she could hear the cries of a few of the babies and the sweet coos of the nuns tending to them. She turned her gaze back to the stairs, as a sense of dread filled her. She had no idea why her wits were on edge, but she couldn’t ignore the trembling inside her.

  This place seemed so solemn. She didn’t hear the laughter of the children in the small dining room off to the side or the scrambling of feet as pupils rushed to early morning classes. She was certain these were signs that something was going on.

  Lana walked to the dining room. Glancing in, she spotted fourteen little girls and ten boys sitting quietly at a long rectangular dining room table, eating small bowls of porridge. Not one of them looked up or spoke with the other children around them.

  She looked at each one of the little ones and then stiffened. Someone was missing. Where was Jess? She spun on her heels and raced up the steps and then the long hall. She heard coughing. A child’s coughing. High-pitched and persistent.

  Little Jess couldn’t be worse. It had just been a cold. A cold shouldn’t be too much to worry about. Lana turned the corner and opened the door of the girl’s dormitory, seeing fifteen perfectly made beds, but Jess wasn’t there.

  She took a step back as more coughing shattered the silence. She followed the sound to another door at the end of the long hallway. One lone brown door. She pushed the door open and peeked in. Her heart fell when she saw little Jess lying on a cot with sweat beaded on her forehead. Her usually rosy cheeks were now pale and her face was drawn.

  Lana pushed the door open and stepped inside the sick room as fear sliced through her. Was the dear child going to be all right? Was this an illness that she could heal from? She desperately hoped so!

  The fairies hadn’t found her a family yet. As Lana took slow steps into the room, Sister Mary let a sad smile cross her face. She walked to Lana and lay a comforting hand on her arm. “Perhaps, it would help if you sat with her. She has taken to you.”

  Lana nodded and walked to the edge of the cot, sitting on a small stool. Tears gathered in her eyes as she reached for the girl’s small hand. Jess turned glassy eyes to her and a half-smile crossed her face.

  “Are the fairies coming?” she said so softly, Lana barely able to hear her.

  Lana sniffled, trying to push the dark thoughts from her mind. “I’m sure they are.”

  The priest walked to her side and handed her a small mug of a warm liquid. “Help her drink,” he said.

  Lana nodded. She set the mug down and slipped in next to the little girl, helping her to sit up. Jess’s body was light and easy to hold. Lana raised the mug to the little girl’s lips, but Jess refused to drink. Her breathing was labored, and she looked tired from the simple task of sitting up.

  “You must drink some, my love. That way you can play with the fairies when they come.”

  The little girl looked at the mug Lana held in her hands. Lana moved it to her lips, but the little girl only took a few sips, before turning her head. Little Jess then buried her head into Lana’s bosom and lay her frail arm around Lana’s lap. A peaceful contentedness flowed across the little girl’s face.

  Was this the first time she had the chance to experience a sheltering embrace. Was this the closest to a mother’s love she had ever felt? Lana recalled how she always felt in her mother’s arms, as her mother soothed her. She couldn’t imagine going through childhood without it.

  A tear slipped down Lana’s face as she brushed a strand of sweaty hair from the child’s face. She thought of all the children in this orphanage. A mother’s love was so important, and these children only received the barest glimpses of it under the nun’s care. And it wasn’t enough. But there was no way to ensure each child could be cared for individually.

  She thought of her story and how it had progressed since she’d been there. She had written several more scenes since sleep was elusive. The story had reached a critical point where the young woman working at the orphanage faced a dilemma. She had spoken with the fairies, who told her she had been destined to take the child, but the young woman had no home of her own. She had no husband or means to provide for herself and the child.

  When she told the plump fairy with green hair about her circumstances, the fairy had just waved a wand over her head and then disappeared. Once she had written the scene, Lana’s pencil could move no more. Right then, she had no idea how to move the story forward. How could the young woman take care of the needy child, without a home and a husband? It would be impossible. So, she was stuck and the story stalled.

  The door to the small room opened taking her attention away from her story. Sister Mary walked in and her eyes fastened on them. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, while deep lines formed between her brows.

  With slow steps, she walked to Lana and held out a small telegraph. Surely, a telegram from her brother.

  Lana took it and lay it on her lap as Sister Mary left. Not one part of her wanted to look at it. Especially not with Jess sick. There was just no way she could think of leaving. How could she? A mother never abandoned her child. But then again, she wasn’t her mother, no matter how much she loved this little girl.

  Lana bent and kissed little Jess’s head as other thoughts trickled across her mind. Though she loved her family back in Cutter’s Creek and would be sad to never see them again, something about working in this orphanage seemed right. She felt like God wanted her to be here. For why else would the Lord have led her here? God had allowed her to chase after a love that could never be, so maybe he had guided her to this place where children needed her.

  Was there a way she could convince the nuns to let her stay? Maybe she could get a job where she worked just enough to buy her own food and then she could work in the orphanage, caring for the children who needed love and attention so much.

  Images of Max’s dark blue eyes flashed across her mind, making a deep hole form in her heart. Though she tried to purge herself of him, she couldn’t. His memory clung to her as if her heart wouldn’t let go. She would probably love him for the rest of her life.

  Little Jess coughed again and Lana looked down as the little girl’s eyelids fluttered open.

  “Will you tell me a story?”

  “If you’ll drink some more tea, I’ll tell you a really good one.”

  The little girl gave a slight nod and Lana raised the mug to her lips allowing her to take a few sips. Lana set the mug to the side and wrapped both of her arms around the little girl. Jess looked at her with eyes full of expectation. It was time to tell her the story.

  “Once there was a young woman,” Lana whispered. “Who loved a little girl very much.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Jess’s mouth.
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  “And the young woman decided that above all she wanted to help that little girl become a fine woman.”

  “Did the fairies send her?” Jess’s voice sounded so weak, barely above a whisper.

  “God sent the fairies,” she whispered. “And we must know God is always watching over us and sending us just what we need.”

  “I like that part.”

  “I do, too.”

  She just hoped that the story she let unfold for the little girl would have a calming impact on her. More importantly, she hoped that God would be merciful and let this illness pass. That God would spare the life of this precious little girl.

  Lana wanted to stay with Jess for the night, but the nuns insisted she return to the cottage with them. She only left once the priest promised to send for her if Jess’s condition worsened.

  Lana stood before the fire, looking at the words in the telegram she’d received.

  I will be there to get you soon.

  Instead of sending money as she had requested, he was coming to New York. Then he’d take her back home. She took a deep breath and let the telegram fall into the fire, burning up in seconds.

  Josh would never let her stay here with the nuns. She turned and walked to her cot and sat down with a heavy sigh. Images of poor Jess filled her mind. Would the dear child be well by the time Josh arrived or would she have to leave a sick little girl behind?

  The child had been so weak, she had barely been able to take any broth. Lana lay on the cot and looked at the ceiling. She just wished that God would go ahead and let her know what his purpose for her life was. Patience was not a virtue she possessed. She took a deep breath and let it out as nerves rattled through her. She had a feeling she would have to learn patience. And she might need to find a way to learn it quickly.