The Matrimony Plan

by Christine Johnson

  Mr. Isaacs coughed, and she pulled her attention back to the business at hand.

  “Though the foster family will receive a small stipend for the child’s care,” Isaacs said, “the bulk of the cost is borne by the family. They need to understand this upfront. Any report of neglect or abuse will bring the immediate removal of the child. You can prevent that tragedy by carefully screening the applicants. Do you have any questions?”

  Felicity spilled hers all at once.

  Gabriel smiled softly. “One at a time, Felic—uh, Ms. Kensington.”

  Mr. Isaacs chuckled. “That’s quite all right, Gabriel. I appreciate an eager committee member.”

  After all her questions had been answered, Mr. Isaacs moved on to the itinerary. “It’s best to complete the application process before the children arrive. Try to approve at least five suitable applicants, preferably more. Every child longs to be chosen. They’ll be eager and nervous. Our agents will do their best to keep the children calm, but you can help by offering a warm and encouraging atmosphere and ensuring each child is matched.”

  “We can do that,” said Gabriel.

  Felicity closed her eyes and drank in his warm baritone. She wouldn’t mind hearing that every day, waking up to his smile and falling asleep in his arms.

  “The children will arrive on the afternoon train on Wednesday the fourteenth,” Mr. Isaacs said.

  “Of this month?” Gabriel was clearly surprised. “That’s only a little over a week away.”

  “I’m confident you can have everything in place, Gabe.”

  Felicity started at the familiar appellation. Only Mariah used that nickname. Gabriel must know Mr. Isaacs very well.

  “They will come to the church first,” Mr. Isaacs said, “so the town can see them. A short hymn-sing would be perfect.”

  Felicity imagined arriving in a strange town and having everyone examine her like a cow on the auction block or a picnic basket on Founder’s Day. The best and prettiest would get picked, but what about the rest? It would be worse than being the last one picked for a schoolyard baseball game.

  “Won’t they be self-conscious?” she asked.

  “It is difficult,” Mr. Isaacs conceded, “but you can ease their discomfort by meeting them at the train and giving them a little time alone before going to the church. After the service, the children will be brought to the boardinghouse for supper and to wash up for bed. Two agents will be with them at all times.”

  “Agents?” she asked.

  “Representatives of the Orphaned Children’s Society,” Gabriel answered, lightly squeezing her hand. “They help the children through the process.”

  Felicity barely heard his words. She stared at her hand. He’d touched her in public. It was practically an announcement that he cared. Though she felt the dots of heat in her cheeks, Mr. Isaacs didn’t seem to notice.

  “Pastor Gabriel is right,” said Isaacs. “You can make this the best experience in these children’s lives with the proper preparation. If you allow the applicants to note preferences, do so after the children have left the room. The next day, distribution day, will go much easier for the children if the committee has already decided which families get each child. The children will arrive at the church at ten sharp for the distribution. I can’t stress enough the responsibility you hold.”

  Felicity felt it coiled like a spring inside her, but with Gabriel’s help they’d ensure the best homes for these children.

  “I understand,” she whispered.

  Mr. Isaacs nodded. “You will need to have each applicant complete the following paperwork.” He then outlined the forms to be filled out and the oath to be taken.

  By the time they finished, her head spun and not only from the hundred procedures to be followed. She’d be working with Gabriel, making important decisions together.

  What’s more, he valued her opinion. She was glad Daddy had gone to another meeting that day.

  Isaacs gathered his papers, and Gabriel rose. “Would you care to lunch at the parsonage, Mr. Isaacs? It’s only roast chicken, but we have plenty.”

  Felicity longed to join them, but Gabriel hadn’t invited her. She lingered, hoping he would.

  Isaacs slid the papers into his valise. “Tempting as that is, I’m exhausted from the travel and am looking forward to Mrs. Terchie’s perogies and a long nap.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at her. “You two enjoy the meal.”

  Felicity’s cheeks burned. Was her attraction to Gabriel that obvious? She felt him stiffen beside her, but he didn’t dispute Mr. Isaacs’s suggestion.

  “And if you change your mind, Gabriel, our door is always open.” The men shook hands.

  Felicity wondered what Mr. Isaacs meant. What door? Change his mind about what?

  After goodbyes were said and Mr. Isaacs headed to the boardinghouse, Gabriel and Felicity strolled toward Elm Street.

  “Whew, it’s hot.” He mopped his forehead. “No wonder Mr. Isaacs didn’t want to eat roast chicken in the parsonage.”

  “Don’t you have a fan?” Felicity thought the church supplied all modern comforts for its minister.

  “It’s not working.”

  “You should speak to Mr. Grattan. He heads the trustees. They’ll get it fixed.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mumbled, peeling off his dark jacket.

  They walked in silence for a while. Gabriel seemed deep in thought, his brow furrowed.

  Felicity couldn’t bear to see him without a smile. Maybe asking about home would help. “How long have you and Mr. Isaacs known each other?”

  “We met when I was a boy. Even though he’s forty years older than I am, we became friends at once.”

  The young Gabriel had met the director of an orphan placement service as a boy? Was he an orphan? But Mariah looked so much like him. Unless they were orphaned siblings. It happened. Was it possible? The question bobbed on her lips until it finally burst out.

  “Were you…that is, how did you meet?”

  Gabriel barely glanced at her, lost in the past. “My parents believe in helping the less fortunate. From an early age, all of us went into the tenements to help. Sometimes we cleaned. Sometimes we sat with the sick. Sometimes I helped my brothers fix things.”

  Felicity wondered at his words. His family could not have been as poor as she’d believed if they could reach out to others.

  He smiled at a memory. “I wasn’t always a very good worker. Once I saw a stray tomcat along the way. He was a filthy thing, all matted and torn from battle. He probably didn’t want to be saved, but I was intent on rescuing him. I got separated from my brothers, and by the time I caught up to the tom, I was lost. Luckily, Mr. Isaacs found me. He brought me to the orphanage until my parents could fetch me. I loved it there. Once upon a time, I thought that was my life’s mission.”

  Felicity heard the passion in his voice. “Then why didn’t you stay?”

  A faint smile graced his lips. “Because God called me here.”

  His assurance stunned her. To know beyond a doubt what you’re meant to do. She’d never experienced such certainty.

  They reached Elm Street and stopped. The parsonage stood to the right, its broad front porch shaded by two stately elms and framed by bridal veil, which had lost its dusting of white.

  “Stay for lunch,” Gabriel blurted out. “We have extra, since Mr. Isaacs won’t be joining us.”

  “I should go home,” she said without a great deal of conviction. “Daddy will expect a report on the meeting.”

  “Of course.” But his eyes caught hers and melted her to the spot.

  “Mariah will be disappointed.” His smile suspended time. “I will be disappointed.”

  “You will?” Her heart pattered.

  He grinned. “Slinky will be disappointed.”

  “Well, if Slinky insists.”

  He laughed, and that warm sensation came over her again. He cared—about her of all people.

  Felicity followed Gabriel up the porch steps. Some
how it felt both wrong and right to enter the parsonage through the front door.

  “It’s too hot to eat inside,” Mariah said the moment they entered. “I fixed a picnic basket. Let’s go to the park.” She bustled across the parlor, blanket in hand. “Hello, Felicity. I’m glad you could join us.”

  Gabriel watched his older sister with a smile of bemusement. “Do you mind if Felicity checks Slinky first?”

  Mariah waved her into the kitchen. “Check away. He’s been pestering me all morning for some chicken.”

  “You didn’t give him any, did you?” Gabriel held the kitchen door for Felicity. “Mariah, I thought we agreed. No more table scraps.”

  “It’s hardly table scraps, Gabriel John.”

  Gabriel John. Felicity let the syllables run over her tongue. It was a good name, a strong name. She liked it.

  Slinky lay on his bed watching the bustle around him.

  When she knelt to check his paw, he perked up, lifting his head with its one floppy ear.

  The wound was still puffy and red, though the flesh had begun to knit. “Bathe it in hydrogen peroxide morning and night, and don’t take him on walks quite yet.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Felicity,” Gabriel said.

  She blushed at his teasing. “It’s only common sense.”

  Slinky plunked his head on her lap, and she had to give him a few strokes before leaving with Mariah and Gabriel.

  They ambled through the woods, which felt so cool that she longed to stay there, but Mariah selected a grassy spot under a maple at the park’s edge.

  They weren’t the only picnickers that day. Several mothers had brought their children to the park. For a moment, Felicity wondered what they’d think of her lunching with the minister and his sister, but what did it matter? She liked Gabriel, and judging by the way he looked at her, he liked her, too.

  “Too bad Mr. Isaacs couldn’t join us,” Mariah said as she removed the plates and napkins from the basket. “I’m not surprised though.” She cast a mischievous grin at her brother.

  He made a face at her. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  She laughed. “So how did it go? Did your father run the show, Felicity?”

  Mariah had pegged Daddy’s character from the start. “He had a business meeting and wasn’t there.”

  “Lucky you.”

  Felicity supposed it was lucky. If Daddy had been there, she’d never be eating lunch with Gabriel. After they’d feasted on chicken, biscuits, hard-boiled eggs and carrot salad, Gabriel leaned back with a sigh, hands folded across his stomach.

  “That was wonderful, sis. I think I’ll take a nap now.” He pulled his straw Panama hat over his eyes.

  “A nap?” Mariah swatted him with her napkin. “Is that any way to behave around guests?”

  “Guests?” He peered out from under his hat. “We have guests? Oh, you mean Felicity. She’s not a guest. She’s practically part of the family.”

  Part of the family. What wonderful words, and as a newly inducted member of this family, she wanted to know more. “Is your father a minister?”

  “He might as well be,” Gabriel groaned.

  Mariah laughed. “Dad sells motorcars.”

  That explained Mariah’s car but not Gabriel’s reaction. “Then why does your brother think he should be a minister?”

  Gabriel scraped his hat to the crown of his head. “Because he’s always preaching.”

  “Must be where you picked it up,” Mariah joked.

  Felicity loved their cheerful teasing. She’d lost that when she left for Highbury. By the time she returned, Blake was getting married. Sure, he’d been thoughtless at times when young, but what child wasn’t? Deep down, she knew he liked her, and if they’d spent more time together, they might have developed a relationship similar to Gabriel and Mariah’s.

  “You’re lucky,” she sighed.

  Gabriel looked surprised. “To have a preachy father?”

  “To have a big family. Mine is so small.”

  “If half of us weren’t adopted,” Mariah said, “we’d have a small family, too.”

  “Adopted?” Felicity stared, openmouthed. So it was true. “You’re adopted?”

  “Actually, Gabe and I and our older brother Samuel are Mom and Dad’s biological children, but Charlie and Rudy and Lloyd were adopted.”

  “That’s another reason why we’re so close to Mr. Isaacs,” Gabriel explained. “Every one of us understands how important it is to grow up in a loving Christian home. When we were young, many more orphans were placed with families than today. Things are different now. The asylums have dwindled, and placements are made through government agencies closer to home. The society now works locally to put children in foster homes. I don’t know how much longer it will stay open.”

  “I read about some of the controversy, but I can’t believe there aren’t as many orphans now. The war had to leave many fatherless, and then the influenza epidemic took even more. Though Pearlman doesn’t have any orphans, the cities must.”

  Gabriel hesitated and glanced at Mariah before proceeding. “Many of the children placed out in the last century weren’t orphans. They were abandoned by parents who couldn’t afford to raise them.”

  “It was heartbreaking,” said Mariah. “Our brother Charlie ran away from his drunken father after being beaten nearly to death. Rudy was left at the asylum by parents who couldn’t speak English and therefore couldn’t get a good enough job to support their ten children. Only Lloyd is a real orphan. His parents died in a train wreck.”

  Felicity saw why this placement meant so much to Gabriel. “We’ll find the children good homes.”

  Gabriel forced a smile. “I know we will.”

  The responsibility could crush a person, but these children needed her. She would not let them down.

  Mariah began repacking the basket. “I’d better get this leftover chicken into the icebox.”

  “And I’d better escort Felicity home,” said Gabriel. “Her father will want a report on the committee meeting.”

  Felicity handed her plate to Mariah. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

  Mariah waved her off. “You two go. I can handle this in one minute.”

  She was good to her word, packing the basket in record time. After a wave goodbye, Felicity found herself alone with Gabriel. That peculiar hum between them returned, like a taut violin string.

  He held out an arm. “Shall we walk through the park?”

  She could think of nothing finer. The summer air was fragrant with the smells of mown grass, peonies, sweet alyssum, roses and a thousand growing things. The sky spread out in a quilt of solid blue, unmarred by a single cloud.

  “Have you thought about my idea?” Gabriel asked as they strolled in the shade along the river. “You’d be a wonderful veterinarian.”

  Morning glories had twined through the bushes, raising their vibrant trumpets to the afternoon sun. Their cheerful blooms seemed to suggest anything was possible, but Felicity wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted to do. Gabriel had heard God’s call. She hadn’t.

  “I don’t know. It’s not an occupation open to women.” She matched her step to his, ivory pump aligned with brown shoe.

  “Not many women have chosen that path, but it is possible. I did a little checking and found a Dr. Florence Kimball graduated from Cornell in 1910 and opened a small-animal hospital in Massachusetts.”

  Felicity sighed. Even if his facts were correct, that wasn’t the problem. Mother wanted her to go to art school and marry well. While Felicity was with Gabriel and Mariah, she forgot all that, but now, heading home, she had to face it.

  “It’s not possible for me,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  She didn’t quite know how to put it. “You were able to choose your profession, even if your parents disagreed. That’s not the case for me. My parents would never send me to veterinary college, and I have no money of my own.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t ma
tter. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life anyway.”

  They walked in silence until the river path ended. The stream bubbled along below an overlook. Men fished there often, but today the spot was empty. They stood side by side watching the river. Then she felt his hand brush hers, politely inquiring. She reached for him, and he clasped her hand.

  “You’ll know,” he said. “God always answers prayer.”

  “I hope it’s soon, or Mother will send me to the National Academy.”

  “There are worse places to go.”

  She sighed. “There are better.”

  She felt a tremor run through him. “Are you all right?”

  “Hush.” He held a finger to her lips. “Do you hear it?”

  She listened. “Do you mean the birds?”

  He shook his head. “No, deeper.”

  She listened harder. The rustle of leaves, the burble of the river, the sigh of the wind. The beating of her heart.

  He placed her hand over his heart, and she could feel it, too, the beating that was getting more impatient. She looked into his eyes, not up like Robert’s but at her height.

  “What do you see?” he whispered.

  Caring and compassion. He liked her. The realization took away her breath. He liked her, Felicity Kensington, not her money or social status but who she really was. She saw it in the way he held her, in the way he looked at her, in her reflection in his eyes.

  This time, the tremor came from deep inside her. She shivered. He wrapped his arms around her. Sunlight sparkled off the flowing river, but it could not blind her more than his affection.

  “I—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips then let it slide under her chin as he leaned closer. That wild sensation shot from her head clear through to her feet.

  “You are so beautiful.” His voice had roughened and lowered as his thumb stroked her jawline.