Love Inspired Historical November 2014

by Danica Favorite

  Enough was enough. “Mrs. Pierce, these are children.” He didn’t bother to mask his irritation. “They also need time to just be children, to play.”

  She remained unruffled. “Of course. But it is also important that they be trained while they are young so they may grow into adults who respect and value knowledge and refinement.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Simon reminded himself once more that this was her home and that they wouldn’t be here for long. But he would draw the line quickly enough if he saw her do anything that would make the kids feel as if they didn’t measure up to some arbitrary standard she might have in mind. They’d already faced enough of that in their young lives.

  And quite frankly, so had he.

  “I would be willing to work with them on literature, art, music and etiquette.” She actually had a hint of a smile on her face, as if this was something she looked forward to. “In addition, I could work with the girls on their household skills, and perhaps you could work with the boys on whatever skills are particular to young men.”

  “Mrs. Pierce, I don’t—”

  She held up a hand to interrupt his protest. “Of course I didn’t mean to imply we would address all of these things at the same time.”

  Thank goodness she recognized that much at least.

  “Depending on the length of your stay,” she continued, “we might not get around to all of it. But we could assess what skills they already possess and what they might be most interested in learning, and work up a plan from there.” She gave him an “I’m right on this” look. “Because it is always good to have a plan worked out.”

  He chose his words carefully, not wanting to insult her. “Mrs. Pierce, while I know you mean well, a governess is the last thing these children need right now.” Or maybe ever. “I think it’ll be a better use of everyone’s time if we just assign them their fair share of the household chores and leave it at that.”

  There was the merest hint of disappointment in her expression but it disappeared quickly. “I disagree. But if that is how you feel, then of course that is what we must do.” The frostiness was back in her tone.

  “Maybe when they get settled into their new home and begin to establish their own routines—” he figured she’d like his use of that word “—then that will be soon enough to worry about all that. But for now they just need some calm and as much normalcy as possible in their lives.”

  She seemed somewhat mollified. “As I said, you are their caretaker so I will defer to your wishes. If you should change your mind, however, I stand ready to do my part.”

  Her capitulation surprised him. Perhaps he’d read her wrong. “Thank you. And as I said, I’ll expect them to do some chores around here.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, in addition to keeping their rooms neat and tidy, the girls can help with the dishes, sweeping, dusting, laundry—whatever housekeeping chores need tending to while we’re here. The boys can help me with some of the yard work and outdoor chores.”

  “That seems reasonable.” She raised her chin. “I assume, however, if there is time in their schedules, and if it does not unduly tax them, you’d have no objection to my introducing them to a small taste of the finer arts?”

  So she hadn’t really given up. Perhaps it would be best if he just came out and said what he was feeling. “So long as you don’t use such lessons to make them feel inferior, then I don’t see any harm in it.”

  She stiffened. “That would never be my intention, no matter what I was teaching them.”

  Not her intention perhaps, but it could still be the result if she went about it the wrong way. “I’m glad to hear it. But let’s go easy with them for the next day or two. And who knows, we may even be able to resume our travels and let you return to your normal routine by then.”

  Her gaze softened ever so slightly. “If you don’t mind my asking, what is the true situation with Miss Fredrick?”

  Simon raked his fingers through his hair. “Dr. Pratt says it’s all in God’s hands now.” He grimaced at his own words. “But that’s always the case isn’t it? Everything is in God’s hands at all times.” He refused to give up hope.

  “Have you given any thought to what you will do if she doesn’t get better?”

  The widow sure didn’t shy away from difficult subjects. “I think it’s too early to be giving up on her.”

  Her expression changed back to that of a no-nonsense schoolmarm. “Planning for a less than happy outcome is not giving up on her, and it’s definitely not too soon to be thinking of such things. One must strive to be prepared for any contingency. I would think, especially in this case, that would be true.”

  She was right of course, at least about facing facts. But he wasn’t ready to discuss going on without the children’s foster mother.

  “If the time comes when that becomes necessary, I’ll figure something out. Rest assured, I won’t abandon these children until I’ve made certain they’ll be well cared for.”

  “A commendable sentiment. But again, you aren’t doing the children any favors by not planning ahead.”

  He knew she was right but he wasn’t ready to deal with it just yet. “Is there anything else you need to discuss with me?”

  “I would like to know a little more about the children.”

  “Such as?”

  “Do you know anything of their history? For instance, how did they all come to live with Miss Fredrick? And are any of them siblings?”

  “I’m not well acquainted with them personally, but my sister gave me bits and pieces of their stories in the letters she wrote me. And Miss Fredrick gave me some information when I agreed to help her find a new place to set up her household.” He chose his words carefully. “There are some sets of siblings in the group and some who have no blood kin here. But they are all siblings now, at least in spirit.”

  “Of course.”

  Perhaps it would help her feel more of a kinship to the children if she did know some personal information about them. “Fern, Rose and Lily are sisters,” he elaborated. “They were the first that Miss Fredrick took in so they’ve been living with her the longest. They’re the children of a distant relation of Miss Fredrick’s. She took them and their mother in when the woman learned she had consumption. She gave the girl’s mother her word that they would always have a home with her.” No need to mention that their father died in jail. “They were the first Miss Fredrick took in and that was about six years ago.”

  “Is that when she decided to open a children’s home?”

  “She didn’t decide, exactly. She told me that was God’s idea, not hers.”

  Mrs. Pierce frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”

  “She made no real effort to take other children in—they just landed on her doorstep, so to speak.” He marshaled his thoughts, hoping he had the details right. He had to be careful not to share any of the secrets that weren’t his to share.

  “Less than a year after the three girls moved in,” he continued, “a neighbor who’d recently lost his wife asked Miss Fredrick to look after his kids during the day while he was at work until he could make other arrangements. Those kids were Russell, Harry and Tessa. Two weeks later, the man died. The kids didn’t have anyone else step forward to claim them, so she assured the children they would have a home with her for as long as they wanted one.” He didn’t go into how the father died. The man took to the bottle after his wife died and got himself killed in a bar fight. He wasn’t sure how much the kids knew about that sad event, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to spread the word.

  “They were fortunate to have found a place with someone so kindhearted,” Mrs. Pierce said.

  “That they are—all ten of ’em. In the following years, four infants were left on Miss Fredrick’s doorstep—I guess folks heard that they would be welcome there. Unfortunately two of the infants didn’t survive long.” Many of Miss Fredrick’s neighbors held the opinion that it was prostitutes who abando
ned their offspring at her door. And they were likely right.

  “I take it Molly and Joey were the two who did survive?”

  He nodded, surprised that she remembered their names.

  “So they are the ones who have no siblings among the others.”

  He stiffened. “Like I said, something you need to remember about these kids if you want to understand them is that in every way but blood they consider themselves siblings and Miss Fredrick as their mother. She worked very hard to instill that in them—the fact that they are truly a family, I mean. I don’t intend to let anyone take that bond away from them.”

  “Of course.” She wrinkled her nose delicately. “It sounds as if people took advantage of her kindheartedness.”

  “I don’t think she saw it that way. In fact I think she looked on it more as an opportunity and a privilege. She truly loves these children.”

  A slight frown line appeared above her brow. “But I believe you haven’t accounted for two of them, Audrey and Albert. You mentioned in the meeting that they are your sister’s children?”

  He nodded. “Their mother, my sister Sally, passed away three months ago.”

  “I’m sorry. Was she your only sibling?”

  He felt a little kick in the gut at this reminder. The memory could still hit him that way, even after all these years. “No, I had another sister, Imogene, but she died when we were children.” Both of his sisters were gone. And he hadn’t been there for either of them at the end.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

  He nodded an acknowledgment of her apology, then moved on. “I knew I wasn’t up to the task of raising her kids, not on my own anyway. Miss Fredrick and I discussed it and she generously offered to give them a home. That’s part of the reason I helped her find a new place for her and the kids to settle down in. That, and the fact that I wanted to make sure I continued to have some involvement in Audrey’s and Albert’s lives.”

  “Such as providing this escort when Miss Fredrick decided to move.”

  He nodded. “But it wasn’t just to provide escort—I intend to move there myself so I can be close by. As I said, I want to be a familiar part of their lives. Audrey and Albert are family and I want to be close by should they ever need me for anything.” He was determined to never again be too far away to help someone who needed him.

  “It’s good that you want to be a part of their lives. But was it so easy to uproot yourself?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t really have strong ties to St. Louis. No family left there now, and I work for myself doing carpentry and occasional odd jobs here and there. Hatcherville has a brick-making facility that I could hire on with if nothing else works out.” He was determined to do whatever he had to do to take care of Sally’s kids.

  But Mrs. Pierce wasn’t finished with her questions. “Was there a particular reason Miss Fredrick decided to move so far from her established home? Surely, if her household had outgrown her current residence, there were options closer to home. One would assume she already had friends and connections there that she could call on for assistance should she need it.”

  “She had her reasons.” Reasons he wasn’t going to go into, especially with someone who seemed as straitlaced as Mrs. Pierce. These children needed a clean break from their past, and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that.

  To do Mrs. Pierce credit, though, she didn’t press or seem unduly put off by his answer, or rather, lack of one. Instead she moved on. “Which brings us back to the question of what you will do if Miss Fredrick is no longer able to take care of the children.” She said this as matter-of-factly as if saying they had run out of flour. “We will, of course, continue to pray that she recovers fully, but even so, with a stroke there is likely to be a long recovery period.”

  That was something he hadn’t considered. If Miss Fredrick became a convalescent, would her brother put aside this bickering between them and take care of her? And the children?

  But that wasn’t something to discuss with his hostess. Then it struck him that she might be worried he would try to overstay his welcome. “The house in Hatcherville is already paid for and most of the furnishings from her previous house have been shipped there, so having a place for the children to live won’t be an issue.”

  He was thinking things through as he talked. “I suppose, if the worst does happen, I can hire someone responsible, perhaps a married couple, to serve as the children’s caretaker while I keep an eye on them as I’d originally planned.”

  “Then you have put some thought into this—good.” She stood. “If you will excuse me, there are some things I should take care of before we serve the evening meal.”

  He stood as well, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. “Of course. And I want to check in on the kids to see if Miss Jacobs needs rescuing.”

  “I imagine she is in her element.”

  He agreed. “But still, I don’t want to take advantage of her kindness.”

  “As you wish.” She turned toward the cupboard, apparently assuming they were finished with the conversation.

  Simon headed for the parlor, still trying to figure out Eileen Pierce. The woman was much too rigid in her thinking—that much was obvious. It was also obvious she hadn’t been around children much, and her ideas of how they should be treated were of the ivory-tower as opposed to the down-to-earth variety.

  But to be fair, she did have some good qualities. It seemed she’d gone to the trouble of learning everyone’s names. And her method of settling them when their baggage arrived had been surprisingly effective, proving that there was a place for discipline, as long as it wasn’t taken to extremes.

  She’d also shown both resourcefulness and concern when she’d turned her porch swing into a rocking chair to accommodate Molly. That soft expression on her face when she’d thought herself alone with the toddler had been sweetly transforming, as if she did have some semblance of maternal instincts.

  He could forgive her her routines and other rigid nonsense if he was certain that deep down she really did have the kids’ best interest at heart.

  But how could he be sure?

  Chapter Eight

  Eileen moved to the cupboard to take stock of her place settings once more. Mr. Tucker’s insistence that the entire household eat at the same time was regrettable, but she would have to make it work. To her relief she did have the right number of place settings, but only because Daisy and Regina had thought ahead and sent her some extras. Not everything would match, of course, and some of the children would be drinking from mugs rather than glasses, but there was no help for it. She cringed at setting such an unharmonious table, but she would just have to put the best face on it she could.

  She momentarily considered eating separately. With Ivy and Dovie she had been able to justify keeping her distance. They were boarders and there were boundaries to be maintained. She hadn’t wanted to invite familiarity, hadn’t wanted to invite the kind of closeness that would make her boarders feel comfortable prying into her personal life. If that made for a lonely life, so be it—she’d had enough of being judged and found wanting.

  But these were not boarders—Mr. Tucker and the children were guests. Which meant she had obligations as their hostess. And that included presiding over the meals. Besides, she’d told Mr. Tucker she believed the children should be trained in the proper way to behave. She had a duty to teach them, and how better than by example?

  Eileen counted the dishes and silverware one more time. She hoped the children would be careful—if any of these plates were broken she had nothing to replace them with.

  As she crossed the room, her thoughts shifted from the dishes to Mr. Tucker. What a strong sense of family he had. It was as admirable a quality as it was foreign to her. She had two younger half sisters, but she hadn’t been raised with them, and her mother and stepfather had been distant. So this bond he was so passionate about was difficult for her to understand.

  But it sounded like something she
might have enjoyed.

  Perhaps there was a reason these children—and Mr. Tucker—had ended up in her home. They obviously needed some order and discipline in their lives, and that was something she could definitely provide. It had taken a bit of persuasion, but Mr. Tucker seemed to have finally understood that.

  And it had not escaped her notice that he hadn’t spent any time thinking through his options given the situation. Of course, said situation was recent and he’d had other things to contend with in the meantime.

  Still, she received the distinct impression that he wasn’t the sort to do much planning. Which might be something he could get by with in the usual way, but this was hardly a usual situation. And one should always strive to do more than merely get by.

  Eileen headed down the hall to the bathing room. She carefully took stock of her towels and the supply of firewood. She’d taken several cold baths lately to conserve the wood, but a good hostess wouldn’t expect her guests to do the same. She had a vague idea that little children caught chills easily, and the last thing she needed was to have to deal with sick children.

  In this room, at least, she had no need to worry about what her visitors might think of her social status. The washroom was one of the luxuries Eileen had insisted on when she’d first moved to Turnabout as a new bride, and Thomas had indulged her, lavishing on her whatever she wanted. She still felt that sense of being pampered when she walked in here. The floor was beautifully tiled; the water was piped into a receptacle that sat on a low stovelike apparatus for heating. The partially sunken tub, which she had had specially shipped in from New Orleans, was opulently large and carved from a single block of marble. It had taken a whole team of men to move it in here. It was why it was still part of her home and had not been sold off with some of her other furnishings—it would have been too difficult to remove.

  She let her eyes scan the rest of the room. To one side, a beautifully carved four-panel screen stood ready to provide the bather with additional privacy. Brass hooks lined the wall for keeping one’s clothing off the floor. A door on the far end led outdoors.