A Stranger at Fellsworth

by Sarah E. Ladd

  “She was walkin’ home through the forest.”

  “What was she doing walking home through the forest?”

  He lifted his gaze and noticed a figure covered with a blanket, curled up in the chair next to the fire. He did not wait for Mrs. Pike’s response. “Who’s that?”

  “Miss Thorley. She’s the one who found Hannah and brought ’er here.”

  How, of all people, would Miss Thorley find his daughter in the forest?

  He never would have dreamed that this woman would be in his home. And yet, here she was, wrapped in a blanket, slumbering, as if she belonged here all along.

  “Miss Thorley. Miss Thorley! Wake up!”

  A childlike voice roused Annabelle from a dreamless sleep.

  “Hmm?” she muttered, not fully awake.

  “Miss Thorley, you must wake up. Mrs. Pike says our supper is ready, and Papa is here.”

  Confused as to why someone was waking her, Annabelle rubbed her face, arched her head to straighten the crick in her neck, and opened her eyes.

  The sight that met her snapped her awake.

  Across from her sat Mr. Locke, as calmly as if he was quite accustomed to having a young woman napping in his sitting room.

  “Oh my,” she muttered as she straightened in the chair, startled to see a man so close to her. She touched loose strands of untethered hair behind her ear, and memories rushed back. Hannah’s foot. The storm. Her dress.

  “I am so sorry.” She gave a little laugh and diverted her gaze from Mr. Locke. “How is your foot, Hannah? Feeling any better?”

  Hannah pouted. “It hurts.”

  “I imagine it does.”

  Annabelle’s heart pounded painfully fast. She had to address the awkwardness of the situation right away. She met his gaze fully. “I did not intend to take such liberties in your house, Mr. Locke. Please accept my apologies for falling asleep like this.”

  He lowered his paper, then his head in a bow. “No apology needed, Miss Thorley. I understand you rescued my daughter from the trap. I am in your debt.”

  She shifted uncomfortably under the praise. “You are not in my debt, but I should return to Fellsworth. The others will be wondering about Hannah.”

  “But it’s still raining, Miss Thorley.” Hannah’s eyes grew wide. “And thundering and lightning. You will get wet all over again.”

  “No need to rush, Miss Thorley.” Owen placed the paper on the floor next to him and leaned forward. “I have sent Whitten to Fellsworth with the message that you are both here and you would return when the rain stops.”

  “You must at least eat with us, Miss Thorley,” pleaded Hannah. “It is such fun to have you in our house. We never have guests. Well, we never have guests besides Mr. and Mrs. Whitten. It will be merry. You must stay.”

  Annabelle blinked away the drowsiness and looked around the room. The stew did smell delicious. She had not eaten since the morning meal.

  But it was more than that. She was surprised that despite the awkwardness of the moment, she enjoyed the company. Mrs. Pike could be heard singing from the kitchen. The brightness in Hannah’s expression was contagious. Then she met Mr. Locke’s gaze.

  She gave a little shrug. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  Hannah’s voice shrilled, “It isn’t trouble! Is it, Papa? Oh, please say you will stay!”

  Mr. Locke stood from his chair. The low height of the ceiling made him seem even taller. The firelight flickered against the side of him, highlighting the day’s stubble on his jaw and catching on the damp strands of his hair. The rumble of his voice was oddly warming. “Of course it’s no trouble. Please join us. You are more than welcome in our house, Miss Thorley.”

  Did he really want her here? She felt as if she was intruding.

  Annabelle stood, shook the creases out of her borrowed dress, and folded the blanket that had been draped over her. She set it over the back of the chair, smoothed another wrinkle out of the linen gown, and patted her hair.

  When she looked up, Mr. Locke was staring at her. His eyebrows drew together in what appeared to be confusion.

  She suddenly felt self-conscious of the manner in which the bodice hugged too tight and the sleeves hung too short. Heat crept up her neck and chest.

  Gone was Mr. Locke’s easy personality. Instead, his expression grew quite sober. His eyes narrowed, and his lips flattened into a thin line.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  As if suddenly aware he was staring, he gave his head a little shake. “No. I mean to say, yes, yes, I am fine.”

  But he wasn’t fine. His brows had drawn together, and his jaw twitched. His entire demeanor had darkened.

  The house that had felt warm and inviting seemed to close in around her.

  Without another word he turned and disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

  Even above the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of the rain, she heard their hushed voices. Mr. Locke’s voice was first.

  “Why is she in Diana’s dress?”

  “What, that ol’ dress?”

  “It was Diana’s.”

  “Yes, it was, but she doesn’t need it now, does she?” Mrs. Pike’s words were clipped.

  “That’s not the point.” His voice was strained. “She shouldn’t be in it.”

  “Well, what would ye have me do? The girl rescued your daughter and got soakin’ wet while doin’ it. I couldn’t just let ’er catch ’er death, now could I?”

  “Shh. Keep your voice down. That doesn’t matter. Surely there was something else around here.”

  “I would have given ’er one of mine, but it would have fallen clear off ’er. That would set gossipin’ tongues waggin’, now wouldn’t it?”

  Annabelle heard no more after that.

  She was wearing his wife’s gown.

  His late wife’s gown.

  No wonder he looked at her with such disapproval.

  She groaned and looked up at the ceiling. How foolish she felt. Why had she not realized it when she dressed in it? It made sense now. The fine fabric. The old-fashioned style. She wanted to disappear. Would nothing ever be simple? Be easy?

  Mr. Locke returned and lifted Hannah in an effortless movement. “Shall we eat?”

  Annabelle could feel the heat rising up her chest and neck. She glanced down at her arms. Sure enough, they were blotchy. She could only hope the darkness of the room hid her visible mark of discomfort.

  Candles were spaced on the table, giving the room a soft glow. She sat at the rough table. Mrs. Pike appeared with a big black iron pot and filled the bowls with a thick beef stew. Bread and cheese sat atop the table. The scene was warm. Inviting.

  Mr. Locke sat his daughter in the chair opposite Annabelle, and then he took the chair at the head of the table. After saying a prayer over the meal, he turned to Hannah. “Why were you in the forest today, poppet?”

  The child’s gaze shifted from her father, to Annabelle, and back to Mr. Locke.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  Hannah hung her blonde head. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

  “But why were you there?”

  “I wanted to come home.”

  Mr. Locke cocked his head. “Why?”

  “The girls were being mean.” Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be there anymore.”

  Mr. Locke glanced at Annabelle, as if to gauge her opinion on the topic.

  She held his gaze for several moments before he turned back to the child. “But it was raining. Why didn’t you wait until I came for our visit? You know we can talk about these things then.”

  “It wasn’t raining when I left,” she said, her blue eyes wide. “But when it started raining, I couldn’t see. I was close to home. Please, Papa. Don’t be upset with me.”

  He reached out and patted Hannah’s hand. “I’m not upset, dearest. Just concerned.”

  “How did you come to find Hannah, Miss Thorley?”

  Annabelle pressed t
he rough napkin to her lips and lowered it to her lap and gave him the same story she gave Mrs. Pike.

  Mr. Locke frowned. “It was a very reckless thing you did, Hannah. You know how dangerous the woods can be. Furthermore, Miss Thorley could have been injured while searching for you.”

  Hannah looked down at her stew.

  His face softened, and he exchanged glances with Mrs. Pike. “But what’s done is done. We will talk about this more later, but you cannot return to school with your ankle in the state it’s in.”

  Hannah lowered her gaze. “Yes, sir.”

  The rest of the meal passed without ceremony. Once the topic of Hannah’s actions ceased, the conversation shifted to a more casual one, and words flowed easily. Besides the meals she shared with her aunt and uncle, this was one of the most pleasant repasts Annabelle had had in weeks.

  The day’s last sliver of light slanted through the window, brightening the entire room and signaling the rain’s end.

  Mr. Locke looked at Annabelle. “Sounds like the rain has stopped. We’d best get you back to Fellsworth. It will be dark very soon. Do you know how to ride a horse?”

  She blinked at him. She had never been on horseback in her life, and the idea made her nervous. “No.”

  “Would you like to try? I’m afraid the carriage would have trouble on the muddy path, and walking is out of the question. The road just south of the bridge always washes out after a bout of weather like we had today.”

  “Well then,” she said with a smile. “I shall try my best.”

  “Good.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “I’ll go get the horses and will return shortly.”

  After the door closed behind him, Mrs. Pike stood and began gathering the dishes. By the time he returned, she had bundled Annabelle’s wet clothes and had them ready for departure.

  Annabelle knelt next to Hannah and smoothed the girl’s hair. “I am very glad you are safe, Hannah.”

  “You are not upset with me? I am afraid Papa is upset with me.”

  “I am not upset with you, dearest. And neither is your papa. He is just worried, I think. It is scary to think that someone you love could have been hurt. Your papa loves you very much.” Annabelle smiled. It was hard not to compare the relationship between Hannah and Mr. Locke to her relationship with her own father. How would he have reacted if she had gone missing?

  “When will I go back to school?” Hannah’s voice was soft in the evening stillness.

  “That is for your papa to decide.”

  Hannah turned her face to Annabelle. “Will you come and visit me?”

  Annabelle smiled down at the little girl. She felt a tug of affection, one, she imagined, that was what motherly affection would feel like. “Of course. Nothing could keep me away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Owen rode back to the cottage’s courtyard, leading a small bay.

  The horse was an old, friendly animal he had outfitted with a lady’s sidesaddle. Of all the horses in the stable, Bess would be the easiest for a new rider to handle.

  He dismounted, tied the horses to the post, and headed toward the cottage. A small part of him dreaded the ride back to Fellsworth School alone with Miss Thorley. He knew all too well the tendency for gossip on school grounds, and no doubt the sight of Miss Thorley emerging from the woods alone with a man would set tongues wagging and could cast a shadow on her character.

  Another part of him, however, could not deny his eagerness for a few moments alone with the young schoolteacher. He had savored time with her. Their stolen moment in the forest. The leisurely dinner at the Langsby home.

  Back inside the cottage, the firelight illuminated a scene that made his chest tighten and his breath catch. Miss Thorley was kneeling beside Hannah, reading from one of the few books in the house. Hannah’s genuine smile was one Owen did not see often enough.

  Perhaps the girls at school had been mean, as Hannah said. Perhaps not. Had he not wanted his daughter to have a gentle feminine influence in her life? A motherly woman to guide her and offer advice? Miss Thorley and Hannah seemed to have formed a friendship, and that fact alone endeared Miss Thorley to him even more.

  He cleared his throat. “Are you ready to leave?”

  Miss Thorley said something to Hannah, smiled, squeezed the child’s hand, and stood. Then she and Mrs. Pike met him in the courtyard.

  Owen grabbed his rifle from its stand, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out to the horses. Miss Thorley approached the horse with caution, her head tilted.

  “This is Bess.” Owen patted the bay’s muzzle and smoothed her mane. “She is the gentlest horse at Bancroft Park and is a favorite of the ladies of the house for her calm nature. I think she should suit you well.”

  Miss Thorley smiled, lifted her skirt to step over a puddle, and patted the horse. “How do you do, Bess?”

  The horse flicked her tail.

  Owen had retrieved a small stool, and Mrs. Pike helped Miss Thorley onto the sidesaddle and then handed him the bundle of damp clothes to put in his saddlebag. “Comfortable?” Owen asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  He gave her a quick instruction on how to get the horse to move and stop, and before long they were on their way to Fellsworth School.

  The cool breeze was a welcome relief from the stretch of warm days that had settled on Fellsworth, and now autumn’s cooler days were outnumbering the steamy ones.

  He cast a glance over at the lady riding next to him. She looked only slightly uncomfortable atop the slow steed. As usual she sat tall and straight, her head held high. It amazed him that through all she had endured, she still managed to conduct herself with such poise and decorum.

  The sun was setting, and the clouds were breaking. The soft pink light filtered through the forest trees. This was one of his favorite times of the day. And Miss Thorley’s presence made it even lovelier.

  “I can’t begin to thank you enough for helping Hannah.” He kept his voice low. “What was she thinking, to run off as she did? I’ve tried to instill in her that the forest is dangerous, especially this time of year. I’m surprised she would act so rashly.”

  Miss Thorley glanced over at him before she returned her gaze to the path. “I have not been around children long and I am hardly an expert on the topic, but I don’t think she meant to cause any harm. She simply wanted to come home.”

  Miss Thorley’s answer tugged at him. “Is she miserable there?”

  “I don’t think she is miserable. I just do not think she knows quite how to manage her feelings.”

  After several moments of silence, Owen spoke. “I am grateful you were there for her today.”

  “I am too.”

  “I don’t mean in just a physical sense.” He wanted her to know that he appreciated the kindness she showed. “Without her mother, I am afraid she has no woman to turn to.”

  “But what of Mrs. Pike? She seems quite attentive.”

  “Mrs. Pike is a good woman, but she is not the most tender of souls. I had hoped sending Hannah to the school would help round life out for her, but now I am not sure.”

  “Give her time, Mr. Locke. My childhood was very different than Hannah’s, but I do think she will learn a great deal from this situation.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  They rode in silence for several moments. Pink skies were fading to deep purple, and while Owen didn’t mind riding in the dark, he did not want a new rider doing so.

  “I think I may owe you an apology, Mr. Locke.”

  He frowned. “I am not sure what for.”

  “I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Mrs. Pike discussing this gown.”

  Inwardly, a groan pulled at him. “Please pay no mind to what I said. It was just a surprise to see the gown again, that’s all.”

  “I imagine it was. I would hate to think that I am the cause for reminding you of a painful memory.”

  A painful memory.

  It was m
ore than a painful memory.

  Diana’s death was a turning point that shifted his entire life’s course.

  It shook his trust.

  Made him question his faith.

  Caused him to wonder if there was any good in the world.

  Normally he would never bring up the topic, but he felt as if he had to. “I do not mean to assume, but surely someone has told you of my late wife’s passing and how it came about.”

  Miss Thorley looked down at the reins in her hand. “I have heard. And I am sorry for it.”

  He did not feel the need to expand on the topic. He had let her in that night at the Langsbys’ when he first brought up Diana. It had been an unguarded moment. He had slipped. Said too much. But now that he had already discussed Diana with Miss Thorley, it felt almost safe to continue the conversation.

  By now they were almost at the school, and darkness had completely descended. The breeze was almost chilly, and clouds were gathering once again. Very little moonlight lit the narrow path through the trees, but what he saw made him pause.

  “Whoa.” He drew his horse to a stop and reached out to stop Bess.

  “What is it?” Miss Thorley’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “There. In the path.” He pointed ahead of them at a trunk blocking their way. It had fallen at an angle that the horses would not be able to simply step over. “A tree has fallen. See?”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry.” If he had been alone and it had not been so dark, he would have jumped the trunk without a second thought. But such would not do for Miss Thorley. “We are close enough to the main road now. We can walk the rest of the way, if that is agreeable to you.”

  She expelled a little laugh. “I would actually much prefer it. I don’t think I make a very good horsewoman.”

  He scanned the tree line and then looked the opposite direction toward the main road. It was still early for poachers, but he didn’t like the idea of her being out here after dark.

  He swung his leg over, looped the reins above his horse’s head, and then turned to assist Miss Thorley. “Just lead the horse. She’ll go where you direct. And then just follow me.”