Written in the Heart

by Judith Stacy

  “Of course not,” Brenna said. “It will be good for Joey to spend more time with you.”

  Caroline felt her stomach knot when Stephen turned to her. Having him along today wasn’t something she’d planned on. But she decided to take her own advice to Brenna and just enjoy the day.

  “The more the merrier,” Caroline declared.

  Joey wiggled out of Richard’s arms and ran to the front door. “Let’s go!”

  The weather obliged with a warm, sunny afternoon as they climbed into the carriage. The picnic hamper Caroline had instructed Mrs. Branson to prepare was already in place, along with several throws and blankets. Caroline and Brenna sat on one seat, with Joey on the end and the men across from them.

  “I invited Aunt Delfi to join us,” Caroline said, as the carriage pulled away, “but she already had plans.”

  “How much longer?” Joey asked, leaning against the window.

  “Aunt Delfi’s been doing so much better lately,” Stephen said. “Not a single episode of dimming vision or numbing limbs.”

  “Why does it take so long?” Joey asked.

  “I think she’s finally come to terms with your uncle’s death,” Richard said.

  “That’s what I thought,” Stephen agreed.

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “What else could it be?” Stephen asked.

  Caroline felt Brenna’s gaze on her face, but didn’t acknowledge her unspoken message. She didn’t want to spoil the day by having Stephen remind her she was paid to be a graphologist and not his aunt’s social secretary.

  “How much longer?” Joey asked.

  “Come here, little man.” Richard wrestled the boy onto his lap. Brenna fished two miniature wooden horses from her handbag, toys that kept Joey occupied until they reached the park.

  Westlake Park lay along Wilshire Boulevard on the outskirts of the city. Long an unsightly, overgrown ravine, the land was finally developed into a lake and park for recreation. Boating and afternoon concerts had recently been offered, making it a favorite spot for families.

  As soon as the driver parked the carriage and opened the door, Joey shot out at a run.

  “Joey!” Brenna shouted. “Stop!”

  Richard scrambled out of the carriage ahead of her and caught the child before he’d gotten too far away. He led him back to the carriage by the hand and knelt down in front of him as the others climbed out.

  “Miss Brenna is in charge,” Richard told him. “You must listen to her and behave yourself, if you want to stay at the park.”

  Joey stomped his feet. “I want to ride the boats!”

  “Then be good,” Richard said sternly. “Don’t run off. Stay with Miss Brenna. Understand?”

  The little boy pouted for a minute, then nodded and latched on to Brenna’s hand. “Can we see the boats now?”

  She smiled. “Yes, by all means let’s go see those boats.”

  With Joey between them, Richard and Brenna headed off toward the lake.

  “I think you were right,” Caroline said as she and Stephen followed. “Joey would have been a handful for Brenna and me today.”

  “And maybe you were right, too,” Stephen said. “He needs to get out more often. It’s hard, though. I like to keep him home where I know he’s safe.”

  “Is that what your brother wanted?” Caroline asked. She wished the words back, afraid the memory would be hurtful for Stephen. But it didn’t seem to be.

  “I’m not sure. We never talked about it,” Stephen said. “Tommy and Kellen were crazy about the boy. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

  “It’s too bad Kellen left,” Caroline said. “Joey still talks about them both.”

  Stephen gazed down at her. “He does? I thought he’d have forgotten by now.”

  “Brenna says he talks about his mama and papa a lot,” Caroline said. “I suppose you never stop loving your parents, no matter what.”

  “If they’re good parents,” Stephen said. “Not all are.”

  Caroline sensed he was speaking of his own mother and father, but she didn’t pursue the conversation. Stephen was already looking at the park, and the vacant land surrounding it.

  “I wonder what this acreage is going for?” he mused.

  Caroline tugged on his arm. “You’re not supposed to be working today. Save your business dealings, your Johannesburg problem and your worries for tomorrow.”

  Stephen grunted noncommittally. “Oh, by the way, the Pinkerton agent caught our thief red-handed.”

  “Was it—”

  “Rudy Acres, just as you said.” He smiled down at her. “I guess I’m going to have to keep you around.”

  Caroline smiled but didn’t say anything—couldn’t have even if she’d wanted to.

  The park was laid out with the lake and a large red-roofed boathouse in the center. Tall trees offered shade. There were flowers and shrubs, and paths that wound through the grounds. Rowboats glided over the still water.

  Vendors sold popcorn, caramel apples and cookies. There were lemonade stands. A goat hitched to a cart offered rides for the brave. Colorful balloons were for sale.

  Young boys raced along the paths and climbed the trees. Girls played at the lake’s edge, feeding the ducks. Picnickers were spread out on blankets under the shade trees. Couples sat on benches watching, listening, relaxing.

  Joey took one look at the boats and decided he wanted no part of them. Brenna and Richard coaxed, but he refused to get in. So they all walked through the park together. Joey found some little boys his age and they became instant friends.

  “You go ahead,” Brenna said, sitting on a bench with a perfect view of the children. “I’ll keep an eye on Joey.”

  “I could use a rest myself,” Richard said, and sat down next to her.

  Stephen offered his arm to Caroline. “Shall we?”

  There was no reason not to, really, so she accepted and he led her toward the lake.

  “Are you afraid of water?” Stephen asked.

  “You’re not going to toss me in, are you?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “You’d just pull me in after you.”

  “Then what do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He took her to the boathouse and rented a rowboat for them. Caroline unfurled her white, lacy parasol against the afternoon sun and sat in the bow as Stephen rowed them across the lake.

  “Are you glad you came?” Caroline asked.

  “I am,” Stephen declared. After all, he’d gotten to hold her hand assisting her into the little rowboat and now he had her all to himself. Not as good as having her in bed, but he’d take it.

  “I’ve been trying to ask you something, and every time the subject comes up you avoid answering.” Stephen stowed the oars, leaving them adrift in the center of the lake. “Now I have you to myself and you’ll have to give me an answer.”

  They were in plain sight of a hundred people, with the lake the focal point of the park. Other boats skimmed the water nearby. Strollers followed the shore.

  Yet alone with Stephen in the tiny boat, Caroline felt isolated, cut off from everyone and everything. It was just the two of them in their own little world.

  “Since I seem to be at your mercy,” Caroline said, “what is this burning question of yours?”

  Stephen rested his arms on his drawn-up knees. “Why don’t you want to get married?”

  “That’s a very personal question.”

  “I know. So answer it.”

  “For your information, Mr. Monterey, I’ve tried to answer that question every time you’ve posed it,” Caroline said. “But whenever the subject comes up, you kiss me.”

  “I do?”

  “You do.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up this time—”

  “My hopes up!”

  “—because I’m not kissing you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Until I get my answer, that is.”

  “Do you think you can just kiss me whenever you
want?”

  He wagged his finger at her. “You’re changing the subject again.”

  “All right.” Caroline straightened her skirt and gazed thoughtfully toward shore. “Well, let’s see…”

  “Are you just defying your father?” Stephen asked.

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “You’ve seen bad marriages that hurt people?”

  Caroline shook her head. “No, not really.”

  “Is there some part of the…proceedings…you find distasteful?”

  That was what he really wanted to know. Caroline didn’t seem cold—not even cool. But if she had an aversion to the mere thought of sharing a bed with a husband, that was a different matter. Stephen wasn’t sure why he wanted to know. Except that if he couldn’t get her in bed with him, at least he could talk about it.

  Caroline considered his question and knew exactly what he was getting at, what “proceedings” he referred to. She should have been shocked that he’d made such a suggestion to her. Shocked, outraged, horrified. She should insist he row her back to shore immediately, and go home in a huff.

  Instead she looked at him directly. “Nothing about it seems distasteful. I used to live in France, if you’ll recall.”

  His jaw sagged and he shifted on the wooden seat.

  “The French are very progressive in their thinking on such matters,” Caroline said softly. “A friend of mine had a book with diagrams that—”

  “Stop.” Stephen pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. “You’re getting off the subject again.”

  “I thought this was the subject.”

  “Just tell me why you don’t want to get married,” Stephen said, shoving the handkerchief into his pocket.

  “This whole thing was my father’s idea,” Caroline said. “For some reason he got it into his head that I needed a husband. I’ll never understand why.”

  “Something in you must have changed,” Stephen said. “He recognized it and knew you were different, and were ready for a husband and family of your own.”

  Caroline spread her arms. “I don’t feel any different.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Goodness, but you’re full of personal questions today,” Caroline said. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “Old—not to be married. He should have sent you off to your aunt’s for a husband years ago.”

  “I guess it didn’t occur to him.”

  “Or he knew you weren’t ready,” Stephen said. “Until now.”

  “And why aren’t you married?” Caroline asked.

  “We’re not here to talk about me.” Stephen picked up the oars. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

  “Not so fast.” Caroline leaned forward and placed her hand on an oar. “I answered your question, now you answer mine.”

  “All right,” Stephen said. “Nothing about it seems distasteful to me.”

  “That wasn’t the question.”

  “I thought it was.”

  “No, that’s just what you want to keep talking about,” Caroline said. “Why haven’t you married? Every mother, aunt and grandmother in the city considers you a prime catch.”

  Stephen grinned. “I’m good at dodging them. Lots of practice. Besides, I’m too busy working.”

  But Caroline thought it something different entirely. Work was easier for him to deal with because it involved nothing more than cold hard facts, business deals, a few personnel problems Stephen could keep at arm’s length. There was nothing personal about it.

  “I’m hungry,” Stephen said again. He gave her a little smile and started rowing.

  On shore once more they found Richard and Brenna seated at the same bench, with Joey playing under the trees with the little boys. Everyone agreed it was time to eat. Stephen wanted to know what Mrs. Branson had packed. They finally decided to picnic under the oaks overlooking the lake, then take in the afternoon concert at the bandstand. Richard set off to get the hamper from the carriage, and Stephen went to buy lemonade for everyone.

  “That shady spot will be perfect,” Brenna said. “We’ll just—”

  She turned in a circle, then whirled again.

  “Oh, my God. Where’s Joey?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Oh, my God. Joey!” Brenna turned, searched frantically. “Joey!”

  “He can’t have gone far,” Caroline said. “Joey!”

  Richard and Stephen came rushing back. Brenna pressed her hands to her lips. “Joey’s gone.”

  Caroline turned to the trees. The little boys he’d played with were still there, their parents stretched out on blankets.

  Strangers. People she didn’t know. Caroline turned the other way. More strangers. Dozens of them. Everywhere.

  She whirled. The lake.

  Stephen caught her arm. “Caroline, you and Brenna check behind the trees and down the path toward the carriage. Richard, come with me.”

  The men set off toward the lake.

  Brenna pressed her palms to her cheeks. “My God, Caroline, if something’s happened to him—”

  “Come on.” Caroline pulled Brenna along with her.

  She asked the parents of the little boys, but they hadn’t noticed Joey wander away. They’d been busy eating, watching the boats on the lake, as well as keeping an eye on their own children.

  Caroline and Brenna searched behind the trees and in the shrubs, calling Joey’s name, then headed toward the path they’d used when they’d entered the park.

  With a sick feeling, Caroline glanced at the lake. Joey hadn’t been all that excited with the water. But what if he’d gotten up his nerve? What if he’d ventured too close? What if—

  Caroline forced her thoughts to the task at hand. Conjuring up fantasies would serve no purpose. She and Brenna pressed on.

  As the afternoon had worn on, the crowd had increased. More children had arrived, little boys wearing the popular, fashionable sailor suit that Joey wore. Caroline thought she spotted him twice.

  “Caroline,” Brenna said, “what if—”

  “Keep looking,” she said, refusing to think the worst.

  They pushed through the crowd. Caroline glimpsed something white up ahead. A large man in a red-striped jacket stepped in front of her. She darted around him, rose on her toes, strained to see over the heads in front of her.

  She spotted him again: a little boy in a sailor suit. A man held his hand as they walked away from her.

  Caroline broke into a run, dodging people, holding up her skirt.

  “Joey!”

  The little boy looked back over his shoulder. It was him.

  “Oh, Joey…” Caroline knelt in front of him, relieved, angry, thrilled. “Oh, Joey, we were so worried about you.”

  She looked up at the man who still held the boy’s hand. He was nearly thirty, she guessed, dressed in work trousers, a wrinkled white shirt and brown vest. His face was lined, deeply tanned by the sun.

  Caroline rose and took Joey’s other hand. “Thank you for finding him,” she said.

  Brenna rushed up and lifted Joey into her arms. “Thank goodness, Joey, you’re safe. Are you all right?”

  Joey just shrugged, as if he didn’t know what all the fuss was about.

  “I’d better go find Richard and Stephen,” Brenna said, and left.

  “Bye, mister,” Joey called, waving at the man who’d found him.

  “Thank you again,” Caroline said. “Where did you find him?”

  He waved vaguely toward the lake. “Just wandering.”

  “I’m sure his uncle would like to meet you and give you a reward,” Caroline said. “If you’ll just—”

  The man backed away. “I don’t want anything.”

  A troublesome knot yanked in the pit of Caroline’s stomach.

  “Just forget it,” the man said, and headed down the path.

  Caroline watched, but lost him in the crowd. The knot in her stomach tightened.

  When she caught up with Joey again, he was
standing on a bench surrounded by Stephen, Richard and Brenna, all giving him a lecture about not wandering off, not talking to strangers, not doing as he was told.

  Stephen looked so tall and sturdy, so capable. She wanted to fall into his arms and let him hold her up for a while.

  Joey seemed relatively unconcerned, and when they were done, he jumped down and headed off to play with his friends again.

  “It’s my fault,” Brenna said.

  “It’s all our faults,” Richard said. “We were all there. All supposedly watching him.”

  “But I’m responsible,” Brenna said. She looked up at Stephen. “I’m so sorry. If something had happened to him—”

  “He’s safe now. That’s what matters,” Stephen said.

  But for Caroline, that wasn’t the end of it.

  “I think we could all use some lunch now,” she said. “Stephen, will you help me with the hamper?”

  “I’ll get it. Wait here in the shade.”

  “No,” she said. “I’ll come with you.”

  They walked across the park and up the path to the carriage. Caroline found herself searching the faces of the people they passed, watching for the man who’d found Joey. She didn’t see him, but her frazzled nerves didn’t quiet down.

  At the carriage, Stephen unloaded the hamper.

  “I tried to get the man who found Joey to wait so you could meet him,” Caroline said. “But he wouldn’t. He left.”

  “Too bad.” Stephen pulled blankets from the carriage and loaded them on top of the hamper.

  Despite the fact that the incident had ended well, Caroline’s heart still beat fast. She couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that kept her spine tingling.

  “Stephen…”

  “What?” He lifted the hamper and blankets into his arms.

  “Stephen, I—”

  He gave her a second look, then dropped the whole lot again and slid an arm around her waist. “You’re white as a ghost, Caroline—what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing…probably.” Caroline gulped. “The man was just taking Joey around the park to find us, I’m sure. Hoping Joey could point us out. But…”

  Stephen leaned closer. “What is it, Caroline? Tell me.”

  “When I saw them, Stephen, the man was leading Joey toward the carriages, away from the park.”