She smiled. “I feel the same about you.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I must check on our prisoner.”
Releasing a frustrated breath, Darcy grasped his coat lapels before he could leave. “Can’t you forget about etiquette for once? I almost lost you in there—you could have been killed. I could have been killed! If it’s wrong for me to break society’s courtin’ rules and express me feelings, then so be it, but express me feelin’s I will!”
She wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug and kissed him gently. At first Brent tensed, not so much from shock but from pain. Even her soft lips caused him agony. She pulled away with a sad sigh.
“You know, Guv’ner, you could easily discourage a girl. If I didn’t suspect you liked me too, I’d give up. I just might at that. One too many rejections, and a girl soon gets the message.” Shaking her head in disappointment, she gave him one last look before leaving the kitchen.
Brent made an effort to gather his wits about him. He would analyze her words another time. Right now, there was something he must know.
Determined, he headed for the parlor and stared at the wounded man on the sofa. A lantern burned on the table beside Eric. He opened his eyes and stared up at Brent, his expression wary.
Brent came straight to the point. “How do you know my brother?”
Eric paused a long moment. “He was with a gang I joined up with in Manhattan,” he said at last. “He warned me that my life was in danger and put his own life on the line to do it. He was like that, always trying to prevent someone from getting hurt.”
Brent stared, taken aback. Bill had saved this man? Is that what had put Bill’s life in jeopardy? Perhaps Brent had judged his brother too harshly. He didn’t understand what made Bill do the things he did, but Brent was relieved to hear that his brother wasn’t as black as he’d painted him, even if the life he saved was that of a criminal’s.
“Thank you for telling me.” Brent moved away.
“Bill was wrong about you,” Eric said, his raspy voice filled with grudging respect. “You’re no coward. In fact, you’re alike in many ways.”
Brent smiled, though it made his jaw ache. Any credit for courage he owed to God.
❧
The phone lines were still down the following day, with more snow falling. Darcy looked toward Eric, who lay on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, his expression sullen. He’d barely spoken a word all afternoon, though he’d eaten the stew Irma brought him.
Darcy stretched in the rocker and set down her book. It was agreed that every adult take a watch over the prisoner, and Darcy’s vigil was almost over. Any moment now Brent would walk in for the night shift. Since Darcy’s kiss in the kitchen last night, he’d become more distant; and Darcy resolutely made up her mind that she would leave him be from now on. If he wanted a relationship, he would have to be the one to make the first move.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Expecting to see Brent, Darcy was surprised when Charleigh rounded the corner.
“Charleigh? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked.
“There’s something I must do,” Charleigh said, determined. She glanced toward Eric. At her entrance he had peered her way, then quickly looked back to the ceiling. Charleigh waddled toward him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Eric, I have something to say to you.” When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer. “Look at me!”
At her demanding words, his gaze narrowed on her.
“You made my life miserable and taught me the meaning of true fear. And though I’ve every reason to despise you for all you’ve done—” She took a deep breath. “I choose to forgive you. I know it’s what God wants, because He’s been dealing with me ever since you got here. He forgave all my sins, and I can do no less when it comes to you.”
His expression remained unchanged, but he didn’t look away.
“I don’t expect you to understand.” She hesitated. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say.” She turned to go.
“Charleigh, wait,” he whispered, wincing and clutching his side. “You’ve gained courage since we were together. How did this come about?”
“If I have courage, it’s because of God. I know He’ll stand up for me, so I’m not afraid to speak. Nor am I afraid of you anymore.”
He studied her in silence, then turned his sober gaze to the ceiling again. Charleigh left the room.
When Brent came to relieve Darcy, she gave him a polite smile—no more—and went to her room to lie down. Yet she couldn’t rest. Charleigh’s act of forgiveness stirred something deep within her, bringing to the surface something she knew the Lord was telling her to do.
“Oh, Lord, no. Please. Not him.” She sat at her bureau, her gaze lifted to the mirror. In her dark, beseeching eyes, she recognized the truth.
❧
The next morning the phone was working, and Irma called the police. Michael arrived at the same time they did. “What’s going on?” he asked as he walked through the door behind one of the officers. “Did one of the boys get into trouble? The weather kept me stranded at home or I would have come sooner.”
Alice grabbed his arm with an affectionate squeeze, pulling him past the parlor entrance. “Everything’s fine now. I’ll tell you all about it over a cup of coffee. I’m just so glad to have you with me again.” She moved with him in the direction of the kitchen. Obviously she was concerned about Michael’s reaction when he learned of Eric’s presence, considering what the Frenchman had once done to Charleigh.
Frowning, Brent watched as Darcy swept past without looking at him. She’d been avoiding him since yesterday. Clutching something tightly in her hand, she walked toward the sofa. Two policemen helped Eric to stand, one on each side of him. Though he was still weak and shaky, handcuffs circled his wrists in front. Darcy stopped close to Eric.
When she said nothing, he raised a mocking eyebrow. “Well?”
“Right,” she said and stuffed a few crumpled bills into his hand. “For you to buy an overcoat. You’re in desperate need of one.”
The bills fluttered to the carpet. Darcy picked them up and tucked them back between his fingers.
“You’re giving me money to buy a coat?” he asked incredulously.
“That’s right. Three dollars. It should be enough. If there’s any left over, you can buy a pair of gloves too.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because you need a coat. You’re ill. And, well, I felt the Lord tell me to give you the money.”
Disbelief filled Eric’s eyes as he stared down at the three crumpled bills. “I could have robbed you,” he said quietly. “I held a gun to your head and might have killed you. And you’re giving me money to buy a coat?”
Darcy smiled brightly. “Life sure is strange, isn’t it? But then Christians are often called a peculiar people.” She sobered. “I once promised God I would do all I could for the needy, having come from just such a situation. I even wrote a poem about it—that’s where the money came from. I won it because of me poem. And last night the Lord reminded me of my vow and told me to give you the money.”
Several seconds of quiet elapsed.
“No one’s ever given me anything,” Eric murmured as he stared at the bills in his clasped hands. Moisture glistened in his eyes when he looked up. “Not even my father, except for the nightly beatings when he’d had too much wine. My mother left him when I was too small to remember. I had to fight, tooth and nail, for everything I had. . . .” He looked away, embarrassed for disclosing a part of his past. Glancing at Darcy once more, he offered a swift nod. The policemen on either side grabbed his upper arms and escorted him to the door.
“I shall pray for you, Eric,” Charleigh said before they stepped outside. “That you find the Truth that will set you free.”
He halted, the policemen also stopping, and looked her way. There was no malice in his eyes, only bewilderment. “Why? Why would you pray for me after all I’ve done to you?”<
br />
“Because I’ve learned that true forgiveness means not only forgetting the past. It also means refusing to punish the person who’s wronged you, while holding their best interests at heart.”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Charleigh smiled. “Perhaps not now. But I feel strongly in my heart that one day you will. God go with you, Eric.”
Brent stood in the entrance and watched while the two policemen slowly escorted the shaky man to their motorcar. Darcy came to stand beside him.
“That was a noble gesture, giving him that money,” he said, relieved she was no longer avoiding him.
Darcy offered a faint smile, then moved away without a word. Frustrated, Brent watched her go.
❧
Darcy stood in the loft and used a pitchfork to toss hay below. Months had passed since the night Eric disrupted their lives, at the same time bringing all of them into a closer understanding of true Christianity. Spring had come and with it a sense of release for Darcy.
Throughout the long winter, Brent remained distant, though often Darcy would catch him watching her. Yet she kept her vow not to push herself on him. She still cared for Brent; in fact, her feelings had deepened despite the distance between them. Still, Darcy had learned something. It wasn’t all that important if Brent accepted her or if anyone else did, for that matter. As Alice often told her, she couldn’t please everyone. God loved her for who she was, and she liked herself. That was all that truly mattered.
She straightened to wipe perspiration from her brow and then bent to shovel another forkful of hay and toss it onto the growing mound. She needed to hurry. She had promised to help with Charleigh’s new baby, Clementine, while Alice and Irma went to town and Charleigh got some much-needed rest. Clementine had been born the day after Christmas, healthy and beautiful, bringing joy to all their lives.
“Miss Evans!”
Startled to hear Brent’s voice directly below, Darcy peered over the loft. He stared up at her, his hair and suit sprinkled with the hay she’d just tossed.
“Oh, sorry, Guv’ner!” she apologized, giggling.
“If you’re sorry, why are you laughing?”
She grinned. “It’s just that you look so funny!”
“Hmmm. Be that as it may, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
His sober tone sent warning bells ringing inside Darcy. “Not now. I’m finishing up Tommy’s job—since he’s been sick with those awful stomach cramps.” She turned to shovel up another forkful.
“If that’s for the animals, you could feed the town’s livestock on what you have down here.”
Wrinkling her brow, she stared at the towering mound. Had she pitched too much hay? She wasn’t familiar with the chore.
“Very well,” Brent said. “I’ll come up there.”
Darcy blinked. “You’ll come up here?” she said, watching as he climbed the ladder. He reached the top rung and she backed up, made uneasy by the determined look in his bright blue eyes. She noticed he wasn’t wearing his spectacles.
“Really, Guv’ner, I’ll be down in a jiffy. There’s no need for you to come up.”
“Too late,” he said as he stepped onto the loft’s wooden floor.
She clutched the handle of the pitchfork, uncertain. His strange, intense behavior rattled her. Before she could think about what she was doing, Darcy tossed the pitchfork aside and jumped onto the high mound below. She landed with a loud rustle, the lumpy hay prickling her through her dress.
“Wait, don’t go!” Brent called. To her surprise, another rustle filled her ears as he landed on the mound beside her. He grabbed her arm before she could scramble away. “Why did you jump?” he asked.
“Because you’re actin’ so peculiar!”
He shook his head in exasperation, giving her a wry grin. “You know, Darcy Evans, you make it extremely difficult for a man to make the first move.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Guv’ner?”
“Brent,” he corrected, drawing her close. “The name is Brent.” And with that, he kissed her like he’d never kissed her before.
When he pulled away, Darcy stared, dazed and breathless. “Did you really kiss me?” she whispered, still not believing it.
“Yes, I did. And I intend to do so every day we have left together on this earth. That is, if you’ll have me.”
“You’re askin’ me to marry you?”
“I am. Frankly, I don’t know how I existed this long without you.” His gaze softened. “You taught me to enjoy life and to look beyond outward appearances—to the heart. And, Darcy, your heart is so selfless and pure and beautiful, always wanting to do good—a man would have to be a fool not to love you.”
She smiled, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. “You love me?”
“I denied it for a long time, but, yes, I love you dearly.”
“Oh—and I love you dearly too!” She hugged him hard, but her joy flickered as a thought came to her. “Does this mean we’ll be courting the full year?” Alice had informed Darcy about courting, also telling her that many considered it outdated.
Disappointment glimmered in Brent’s eyes. “If you would prefer to, we can. Yet, due to our long association, I don’t feel a short engagement would be inappropriate.”
“Good! But keep in mind, I’ll likely always be brash and speak me mind. Often the Cockney slips out despite my best efforts to speak right.”
“And I shall likely oftentimes be stuffy.” A pained look crossed his face.
Darcy laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She loved this man so much—especially covered with hay as he was now. He looked anything but stuffy!
He plucked a piece of straw from her hair. “Something amuses you, Miss Evans?”
“Nothing, Guv’ner,” she said, her smile wide. “Nothing ter squawk habout anyways.”
Brent laughed at the familiar phrase.
“And the answer is yes—I’ll marry you as soon as you like. In fact, the sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned! Does tomorrow sound all right with you?”
He shook his head, his eyes dancing. “Oh, Darcy. However did I survive my bleak life until you came along?”
Before she could think of a response, he pulled her close and kissed her again.
Epilogue
Darcy stood beside her husband of seven weeks and stared at the magnificent sunset. “I’m going to miss Lila and Angel,” she murmured. Brent slipped a comforting arm around her waist, and she settled her head on his shoulder. Her fingertips brushed the edge of her jacket. A gift from Lila.
Yesterday, while trying to decide what to pack, Lila had thrown her colorful garments into a heap on the floor, stating she wanted no reminders of her carnival days and intended to burn them. Darcy had been horrified to see the gorgeous red jacket with Chinese embroidery and gold buttons cast onto the pile. Seeing Darcy longingly eye the crimson satin, Lila lifted it from the heap and placed it around her shoulders, rendering Darcy speechless. Not only was the jacket a perfect fit, it was ten times prettier than the jacket the organ grinder’s monkey wore all those years ago, when she was a child.
Joy over the long-desired treasure mixed with sadness upon losing a friend. Lila and Angel were leaving the Refuge tomorrow. It had been a shock when Bruce, the strong man from the carnival, showed up at the door last week, begging to see Lila. Concerned, Darcy eavesdropped and heard Bruce vow his love, telling Lila she was the sole reason he’d stayed with the carnival. Judging from the shy smile Lila offered when she later informed Charleigh and Darcy of her impending marriage, Darcy knew Bruce’s feelings were returned; and she was happy for her friend. One thing was certain: Lila and Angel would always be in her prayers.
“I’m amazed at how well Joel has taken to Lila,” Brent said thoughtfully. “Especially since he was her worst tormentor those first few weeks she was here.”
“It is amazing, isn’t it?” Darcy asked. To everyone’s shock, the two had grown close. After
his experience with Eric, Joel changed. He still talked incessantly of finding his father one day, but he wasn’t as volatile as before. He’d grown considerate of others, conscientious in his studies, and rarely started a fight with any of the boys.
“Well, I best be seeing to the baby,” Charleigh said from her post by the porch rail. She moved to go, then stopped. “Oh dear, isn’t that Mr. Forrester’s car? What does he want now?”
Darcy peered up the lane toward the gate. Sure enough, a black motorcar with a bent fender chugged their way.
“He’s probably found something else to bicker about.” Charleigh blew out a frustrated breath. “Honestly! It seems that man has nothing better to do than meddle in our affairs and try to find a reason for closing us down.”
A sudden wail reached them from inside.
“Clemmie,” Darcy said to Charleigh. “Go. I’ll take care of Mr. Forrester.”
With a grateful nod, Charleigh hurried inside.
“Darcy,” Brent warned.
She flashed him a smile. “In a nice way, of course.”
“Perhaps you’d better let me handle this,” Brent suggested as the car rolled to a stop. “Especially after the way you lit into that peddler last week for his derogatory comments about Lila when he spotted Alice shaving her—” His words broke off as he stared at the vehicle.
Looking thinner and tired, Stewart patted the side of the car and motioned a farewell to the driver. A scrawny young boy in ill-fitting clothes stood off to the side. Mr. Forrester offered a feeble smile and drove away while Stewart hurried up the steps. He clasped Brent’s hand in a heartfelt shake and accepted Darcy’s welcoming hug.
“Delighted to have you back,” Brent said.
“You could have told Charleigh your plans,” Darcy lightly admonished. “I do believe she was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home.”
“Darcy,” Brent said.
“No, she’s right,” Stewart replied, his voice hoarse. “Things have been rough. Mother almost lost her home, and I had to intervene. Then I got sick, and there were other problems too.”
“Stewart.” Charleigh’s disbelieving whisper reached them.
Heart Appearances (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 560) Page 16