But then he spied Benchley through the glass window, and his hackles went up. For a clerk he wasn’t often at his desk. Instead he lurked. Something definitely wasn’t right about him, and God forbid Brian endanger his children as well as Richard and Sarah and maybe even their families. As it was, Brian feared for the Fieldses’ safety. However, Wendell assured him God would protect them.
Brian believed it. However, he also felt a strong prompting to stay put. He wanted to keep an eye on Benchley without him knowing that he was watching. The man enjoyed pumping Brian for information, to see if poor Captain Blackeyes’s memory had returned. Brian suspected that once Benchley learned the truth, he’d make an attempt on his life. If he did, Brian would be ready.
Yes, he’d made the right decision to remain in Chicago.
He sat back in the chair, resisting the urge to read the newspaper on the desk. Blind men didn’t read, and if Benchley caught him, he’d know the truth. That couldn’t happen. Not now. Not yet.
Allowing his eyelids to flutter closed behind his dark spectacles, he wondered what was happening in Milwaukee. Why hadn’t Richard responded yet? Nearly two uneventful weeks had passed since he’d sent the letter. With the train service between Chicago and Milwaukee, mail delivery was swift. Surely he’d received the missive by now.
An hour tickled by, and finally Wendell entered the office. “Time to call it a day, Captain.”
At last!
Brian stood and let his friend guide him down the marble floor of the hallway and down the stairs. Lord, I despise this charade. He said nothing as they descended the stairwell. Once outside, they boarded the carriage, which Wendell had summoned from the stables, where it had been parked since this morning.
People crowded the wooden walks, shoppers and street venders likely on their way home or storekeepers who had closed up for the night. Buggies filled the white pine-blocked street. The clop of horse hooves echoed between the tall wooden buildings.
“What time is Renna expected home tonight?” Brian glanced at Wendell as the carriage jolted to a halt amidst the traffic then lurched forward again.
“I’m not sure. It all depends on whether the hospital is busy and if she’s required to stay an extra shift.”
Brian shook his head. “Nurses shouldn’t have to work so hard and for such long shifts—especially when the said shifts are against a nurse’s will.”
“I agree.”
Settling back into the black leather seat, Brian grunted out a laugh. “It won’t be easy to court your daughter if she’s never at home.”
“A problem, to be sure.” Wendell sent him a sideways glance. “Are you ready to tell Renna of your intentions to court her?”
Brian shifted in his seat. He still felt awkward with the notion of this courtship business. “What, pray tell, is the difference between courtship and pursuance? I believe I pursued my first wife and my fiancée.”
“Hmm . . . good question.” His older friend paused to ponder a moment. “In my mind courtship is more refined and courteous. Less dogged determination.”
“All right. I can step back and be nonchalant.”
“Well, no . . . ” Wendell cleared his throat. “Let me put it this way. Courtship is buggy rides on a Sunday afternoon as opposed to cocktail parties every night of the week.”
“Ah.” A wry grin tugged at half of Brian’s mouth. “I believe I understand now.”
They shared a laugh, and for the remainder of the ride home, they exchanged tidbits about their day at the Chamber of Commerce. Brian realized his mood had lightened considerably.
Arriving at the Fieldses’ cozy home, he climbed from the buggy. Wendell came around and gripped his elbow in a dutiful manner.
“Now close your eyes, Captain, so you’ll stumble up the stairs a bit in case someone might be watching.”
“Wendell, I cannot stand this game of pretend a moment longer!”
“Now, there, Brian, we’ve discussed this and determined you must keep it up—at least for now.”
“I know . . . ”
They entered the house, and a tantalizing aroma wafted to Brian’s nose. Seconds later, Johanna Fields met them. Brian noted, and not for the first time, how much Renna favored her mother in hair color and stature, although she’d inherited her father’s keen green eyes.
“Dinner’s ready. I made a beef stew.” Mrs. Fields wiped her hands on her checked apron.
Brian’s stomach rumbled with hunger as he shrugged out of his coat. How he wished Richard would answer his letter and wire funds. His clothes were a sorry fit, although he was grateful to have them.
Wendell took his arm and led him to the supper table. When Mrs. Fields disappeared through the doorway connecting the dining room and kitchen, he let go.
Brian pulled out the chair and sat down. “This is ludicrous,” he whispered. “We should at least tell your wife that I can see.”
“She’ll tell Renna.” Wendell took his place at the large round oak table covered with a tablecloth. He placed a linen napkin across his lap.
Minutes later Mrs. Fields reentered the dining room, carrying two plates on which bowls of steaming stew had been placed. “Here you go, gentlemen.” She placed the food in front of them then left to serve herself. As always, they’d wait for her before praying over their meal and beginning to eat.
“If I beg her not to tell Renna and explain why—”
“I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Are you telling me she can’t keep a secret?”
“Yes, she can. But—”
“Wendell, I need a safe place where I can be who I am. Someplace where I can sit and read the paper. Or the Bible. A place where I don’t have to close my eyes while I’m eating so I appear blind and helpless.”
His friend sighed.
“Nevertheless, I promise to take care while Renna is at home, which, may I remind you, isn’t often.”
“You needn’t remind me of that.” Wendell frowned at the circumstance. “Still, I don’t know. I can’t say that I like the idea.”
“What idea, dear?” Mrs. Fields returned with her plate and bowl of stew along with a basket filled with freshly baked rolls. She set down her burdens before taking her place at the table. She peered at her husband askance.
A look of resignation fell over Wendell’s countenance. “Let’s pray. After we’re finished eating, the captain can tell you his news, Johanna.”
“But you don’t think it’s a good idea?” She looked wounded.
“Yes, but I will allow Brian to explain why.” Wendell looked his way. “I don’t like secrets.”
“Nor do I.” Brian shook out his napkin then laid it across his lap. “But keeping a few seems imperative.” He managed a smile at Mrs. Fields.
“I assure you, Captain, I’ll guard the news you share with me.”
“Thank you.” He removed his dark glasses.
With all heads bowed, Wendell gave thanks for their meal. Afterward, Brian lifted his knife and fork and began slicing a piece of beef. He forked it and a piece of potato into his mouth. Chewing, then swallowing, he looked directly at Mrs. Fields. She met his gaze.
“This is delicious,” he told her.
“Why, thank you, Captain.” A blush entered her cheeks.
He helped himself to a roll, split it, and added some butter. He noticed Mrs. Fields’s jaw begin to slack.
“Why, you can see, Captain!”
“Yes, I can.” He smiled.
“What wonderful news. When did it happen? Today at the commerce building?”
“Actually, it happened the day I came home from the hospital. But I’ve feigned blindness because . . . ” He glanced across the table at Wendell, who appeared preoccupied with eating his meal. “Mrs. Fields,” he began again, “the truth is, I’m interested in courting Renna. But I’m afraid to tell her I can see because I fear she’ll reject me.”
“Because you’re not blind?”
“No. Because I’ve remembered w
ho I am. My name is Brian Sinclair, and I hail from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where I own a store and, most recently, a shipping company. I’m very wealthy, Mrs. Fields, and I’ve been accustomed to the best and finest of all things. Renna despises the kind of man I am—or rather who I was.”
“Oh . . . ” Her hand flitted to her throat. “Then my small home and meals like this stew must seem so beneath what you’re accustomed to. I apologize.”
“On the contrary. I have never felt so at home as I do here, even in my own house in Milwaukee. Your meals are delicious. So are your baked desserts. In fact, I’m hoping you baked another apple pie.”
She smiled. “Yes, I did.”
Brian smiled. “Now, getting back to my secret, Renna is very insecure. She doesn’t believe herself good enough to become my wife because of her birthmark and the differences in our social classes. Personally, I don’t give a whit about either. And I think Renna is beautiful. I don’t notice her birthmark anymore. But they matter to Renna. However, as long as she thinks I can’t see and that I need her, she enjoys my company. I’m hoping to tell her the truth soon because I sense she has feelings for me that go beyond a good nurse and her patient.”
“Captain, I would agree.” Mrs. Fields nodded. “And, yes, Renna is insecure, as you said.” She drew in a deep breath. “Her father and I have tried everything—”
“Please. There is no need to explain. It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. I have seen her insecurity play out with my own eyes. However, I believe with my help she’ll overcome it. There’s a reason God put me in Renna’s care—and not just for my benefit.”
Johanna Fields’s frown of concern disappeared. “Do you really want to court Renna? Are you in love with her?”
“Johanna!” Wendell squared his shoulders.
Brian chuckled and covered Mrs. Fields’s hand with her own. “I see where Renna gets her straightforwardness.” His smile lingered. “And, yes, I think I just may be in love with your daughter.” Removing his hand, he sat back. “But I must know for sure. I can’t say I’ve ever been in love, even though I’ve been married and engaged to be married for a second time. I need to find out what these feelings are that I harbor for Renna. Courtship is what your husband has insisted upon.” Brian caught Wendell’s eye and arched a brow. “I think I’m beyond the years of courting a woman, but I will comply with his wishes.”
“Oh, I think that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Fields clapped her hands together in glee.
“But it’s a secret for now, Johanna,” Wendell reminded his wife. “You cannot tell Renna that the captain can see. Furthermore, Brian must ask Renna if he can court her.”
“I won’t say a word.” She grinned like a satisfied mama feline.
Brian stifled his amusement. “But there’s another, more pressing reason that I’ve hidden both my blindness and my identity, although Renna knows who I am. I asked her to keep it quiet for now. I’ve been a pirate in more ways than one. I can’t say that puts Renna off. She’s very forgiving. But she’s averse to the fact I’m a wealthy widower who has known beautiful, rich women.”
“Renna feels she can never compare.”
“Oh, but she outrates them. I wish she would understand that.”
“I do too, Captain, but it doesn’t help that Renna was snubbed by a wealthy lieutenant in Virginia during the war.”
“She was?” Wendell brought his chin back. “I didn’t know about that.”
“Renna felt too ashamed to tell you, dear. And the incident heightened her feelings of insecurity. Now, she not only believes a handsome man could never love her because of her birthmark, but she also thinks a wealthy man would never love her.”
Brian heart crimped, and he wanted to punch that lieutenant right in the nose!
Again, he covered Mrs. Fields’s hand. He smiled into the older woman’s eyes. “With your permission, I’d like to dispel such a myth.”
“Permission granted.” A smile shone from her eyes.
“But for now, no one must know he’s Captain Brian Sinclair from Milwaukee,” Wendell said. “His life may be in danger. Brian suspects someone tampered with his ship and that’s the reason he couldn’t get to shore before the storm hit on that tragic day more than a month ago. If he’s right, whoever did such a deed is a murderer.”
“Oh, my!” Her brows drew inward, and her lips pressed tightly together.
“But please don’t be afraid, Mrs. Fields.” Brian couldn’t bear to be the one to put fear into the older woman’s heart.
“God will protect us, Johanna.” Wendell took a bite of his stew.
“You’re right. He will. He always has.” Smiling, she lifted her fork. “Captain, your secrets are safe with me.”
“Thank you.
She began eating her meal, and Brian took note of the Fieldses’ calm and confidence. It seemed contagious, and moments later, Brian sensed that God would work everything out. His hosts were safe in God’s hands—and so was he.
•••
Richard Navis leafed through the missives on Captain Sinclair’s large oak desk. The correspondence had piled up in his absence. He and Sarah had married on the twenty-ninth of September and taken a weeklong honeymoon at the Dells in Kilbourn City, a village on the Wisconsin River and a popular vacation spot. Richard was glad he’d selected it. He smiled to himself, recalling how the wild and romantic scenery had provided a much-needed respite for both himself and Sarah. Here at home, Sarah’s parents had minded the Sinclair children, seen them off to school, and visited Richard’s folks on the farm over the weekend. All had gone well.
But now, back from his brief honeymoon with his new bride, the burdens of his roles as business owner and guardian of four children fell on him anew.
As he sorted the mail, one envelope in particular caught his eye. It was addressed to him, although he didn’t recognize the sender’s name.
Breaking the seal, Richard suspected the news was business-related, but as he read on, a paralyzing sense of shock gripped him.
September 25, 1866
Dear Richard,
I’m writing to you via my nurse and friend, Miss Lorenna Fields. Since the accident, I’ve been in a Chicago hospital suffering from a head injury and the effects of amnesia. Only recently did my memory return. However, my vision remains impaired. Nevertheless, I am alive and I have God to thank for it!
“Sarah!” Richard didn’t even glance up from the captain’s post as he called for his wife. When no answer came, he realized she was upstairs with the children. Quickly reading the rest of the letter, he exited the captain’s office, Reaching the banister, Richard called to his wife again. “Sarah!”
Moments later, she leaned over the top of the railing and smiled. “You bellowed, my beloved?”
Under normal circumstances, Richard would have grinned at the retort. “Come down here. Quickly. You’ve got to read this to believe it.”
He heard Sarah’s skirts rustle as she made her way down the stairs. “What is it?” Concern etched her lovely features.
Richard handed her the letter. “Read this.”
She did, and the color drained from her face. “He’s . . . alive?”
“Apparently so.”
“It can’t be.” Her blonde head snapped up, and her blue eyes darkened with suspicion. “This is a horrible prank, meant to upset us. Look. The author of this missive asks for clothing and funds.”
“Because his were lost in the lake during the storm.”
“But it can’t be possible. How could the captain have survived while the others didn’t? Besides, the author of this note thanks God. Why, Captain Sinclair never thanked God for anything, let alone his existence.”
“Sarah, you’re right on all accounts, but I think the matter is worth investigating.”
“But I . . . you . . . the children . . . ”
Richard enfolded his wife into a snug embrace. “Don’t worry, Sarah.” It’s all he could think to say. He shared her feelings of shock and disbelie
f.
For more than a month now, they had been mourning the captain’s death, handling his business affairs, caring for his four children. The fact that the captain named both him and Sarah as guardians in his will had spurred them to marry quickly. And now to learn the captain wasn’t dead . . .
Or was he? Maybe this letter was, as Sarah said, some twisted mind’s idea of a joke.
“If he is alive . . . ”
Pulling back, Richard stared into Sarah’s upturned face. “Yes?”
“Will you be sorry you married me?”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Well . . . ”
“Sarah, how could I ever regret making you my wife?” He meant what he said too, even though he knew she had once held a flame for the captain, tiny flicker that it was. “And what about you? Will you have regrets?”
“None whatsoever. No one could ever love me as much as you do.”
“And I do love you, Sarah.”
Her eyes darkened with sincerity. “I know.” As she gazed up at him, a pretty pink blush entered her cheeks. “I love you too.”
Inhaling deeply, Richard wished they were alone right now so he could show her how much he loved her . . . again. But he had work to do. So did she.
Sarah’s gaze moved to letter. “Should we tell the children about this news?”
Richard shook his head. “Not just yet. I’d like to do some checking first.”
“You know . . . he’ll want them back—the children. Except they won’t want to go. They want to live on the farm. With us. Why, we’re preparing to sell this house. We wanted to move before the holidays. It’s all planned that the children will attend a new school at the first of the year.” Sarah stepped back and glanced around the captain’s mansion. “Gabe and Michael are just beginning to adjust—”
“Except those two boys never believed their father drowned in the first place.”
Sarah’s shoulders sagged forward. “Yes, you’re right.”
“Sweetheart, don’t fret.” He kept his arms around her waist, enjoying the feel of her so close to him. “God loves these children even more than we do. As with everything, we’ll just have to trust that His ways are best.”
Unexpected Love Page 12