He drew close, and the scent of him, woodsy and very masculine, made her skin prickle in the most wonderful way. He reached around her. After all this coolness, was he going to embrace her? Her knees threatened to give out.
But he simply slipped an envelope from the pocket of his coat.
“This came in on the mail boat. I figured since I was going to see you tonight, I would bring it here.” He handed over the envelope.
Disappointment shattered her hopes. A letter. He only wanted to give her a letter. Granted, it was the first she’d received since arriving in Singapore, but it couldn’t be from Jake. Her note had gone out earlier today and could not have brought a response so quickly.
She looked down at the envelope in her hand. It was so battered that the corners were bent and ripped. The flap had come unglued, yet the contents were still there. She flipped it over, and her gaze drifted to the return address. She gasped and lifted a hand to her lips.
“Unwelcome news?” He hovered near, painfully near.
“No.” She shoved it in the pocket of her coat. “Until today, I forgot I’d written to them.” In the excitement over this position as Garrett’s housekeeper, she had neglected to follow up her request for a position with the Chatsworths with a second note retracting that request. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
She attempted a smile, but Garrett’s close proximity made her feel that she had to explain further. “The Chatsworths claimed me from the orphanage.”
“Are they your papa and mama?” Isaac asked.
“No.” They should have been, but they were not. Parents loved and nurtured. She’d received neither from the Chatsworths. Her discomfort grew. She backed to the door and turned the knob. “I should get going. Good night.”
“Good night!” the children said in chorus.
Garrett remained silent, his brow drawn low in thought. That was what made her stomach churn long after she closed the door behind her.
Chapter Eighteen
Only after Amanda was alone in her bedroom did she dare to look at Mrs. Chatsworth’s letter. She turned it over. Even in the low light of the oil lamp, the envelope looked like it had been pasted back together rather clumsily. The edges didn’t align, and the paste was a darker color. A large fingerprint marred the last seam.
Someone had taken the envelope apart and glued it back together. Or, more charitably, it had fallen apart before the poor attempt at piecing it together again had taken place. She held her fingertip alongside the print, which was much larger. A man’s.
Though she hoped a postmaster had attempted the repair somewhere along the line, she feared it might have arrived damaged in Singapore. That meant either Roland or Garrett had repaired the envelope.
Except for the flap. She fingered it.
The glue looked smeared and darker here, too. It had simply failed a second time.
Had someone read the letter?
She glanced at the opening line and her heart stopped.
How dare you ask anything of me after the way you seduced my daughter’s fiancé.
Amanda’s hand trembled, and the letter dropped onto the bureau.
Why would Mrs. Chatsworth say such a thing? She never knew the extent of Hugh’s attentions to Amanda. She had no idea Hugh had promised marriage before attempting to take what she was not willing to give. No one knew—except Mrs. Brighton. Oh, dear. Mrs. Brighton. But she wouldn’t have said anything. She’d promised never to speak of that night.
Amanda pressed a hand to her midsection. Yet that was the only explanation. For some reason, Mrs. Brighton must have revealed what Hugh had done. Once the secret was out, Hugh must have twisted things to make it sound like Amanda’s fault.
Though that had turned Mrs. Chatsworth’s opinion against her forever, Amanda could not mourn her loss, nor indeed any of that family. None of them had welcomed her like the people of Singapore had.
She fingered the loose flap.
Oh, dear. Anyone and everyone might have seen the accusation. Postmasters. Roland. Garrett. Especially Garrett. He’d brought the letter to her.
That would explain his behavior tonight.
He’d seen the accusation and believed it. He didn’t know how wrong it was. A complete lie. Garrett must think her the worst sort of woman, certainly not someone capable of caring for his children. A pious man like him would never marry a woman with that sort of reputation.
All was ruined.
A sob formed in her throat before anger swept it away. How could Hugh do such a thing? What a foolish question. The viper had lied to her. Of course he would lie to his mother-in-law.
Amanda leaped to her feet. She must explain, must tell Garrett that she had done no such thing, that the fault lay with Hugh. Garrett would understand.
No, he wouldn’t.
Her righteous anger evaporated. He’d pointed out the virtues of the perfect wife. A perfect woman would never have fallen for Hugh’s lies. She would never have allowed herself to get into a position where a man could take advantage of her. Amanda couldn’t live up to Garrett’s expectations before this letter. Now? Impossible.
Though she had not committed the sin Mrs. Chatsworth hurled at her, she had failed. She had been deceived by Hugh, misled into danger from which she could not escape. Singapore and a mail-order marriage had looked like a glimmer of light in the darkness. The past could be blotted out with a new future. But the groom demanded perfection that could never be reached.
After seeing this letter, he would dismiss her. He wouldn’t let her near his children again. Isaac. Sadie. Garrett. Amanda’s heart ached from the loss. The moments of joy she’d shared with them would never be repeated.
She sank to the bed. What would she do? Come morning, Garrett would expect an explanation. He hadn’t dismissed her tonight. He was waiting for her to read the letter. The questions would fly tomorrow. Her already upset stomach knotted even more.
What could she say?
Nothing, for the truth would not lift her in his esteem. He would still consider her imperfect and unfit, her reputation irreparably stained. There was no way to save either her housekeeper position or any chance at a lifetime with Garrett and the children. He would dismiss her. When people asked why, he would be forced to reveal what he’d read. Then Mrs. Chatsworth’s accusation would circulate around town. Amanda would be shunned. They might not even let her into church. Pearl would certainly be forced to keep her distance. School? Someone of Amanda’s reputation couldn’t be trusted around children.
A sob threatened.
She pushed it down even as her head spun. News, especially speculation, ran through town like wildfire. Soon everyone would know some version of the falsehood. The reprisals she’d feared in New York would come to pass here.
She hunched over, unable to draw a full breath.
What should she do?
Her first instinct was to run to safety. She could not stay here, could not face the stares, the snide comments and the blatant disrespect. Mrs. Calloway might even tell her she must leave the boardinghouse. Amanda would have nowhere to turn except the saloons, but she could never fall into those pits of despair.
No, she must find another safe haven. That had once been the Chatsworth household, cold though it was. Was it possible that in spite of the opening sentence, she would find forgiveness in this letter?
With trembling hands she unfolded the single page.
Mrs. Chatsworth was brief. The remainder of the letter stated in no uncertain terms that Amanda was to have no contact of any sort with the family. Five months ago, that would have been a blessing, but now she had nowhere to turn.
The people of Singapore had become dear to her, dearer than anywhere she’d ever lived, almost like what she imagined a family ought to be. Mrs. Calloway taught and consoled her like a mothe
r. Pearl was her dearest friend. Everyone listened to what Amanda had to say. Even Louise and Fiona, rivals for Garrett’s attention, granted her a measure of respect. All that would disappear.
She could not stay.
Amanda stood. She began to crumple the letter, but could not toss it in a bin hoping no one would read it. She must burn it thoroughly, and the only fires were downstairs. Soon Pearl would return from whatever she and Roland were doing tonight. Their wedding quickly approached. Between ruining the dress and withholding secrets, Amanda was not worthy to be Pearl’s bridesmaid. Fiona, Louise or even Mrs. Calloway would fill that role much more ably.
Amanda swiped at a tear.
She didn’t want to hurt Pearl, but the stain of this horrible letter could taint her happiness. By claiming Amanda as a friend, Pearl would be viewed differently. Amanda couldn’t let that happen.
Her hand drifted over the letter again. Mere hours ago she’d written to the man she hoped was her brother. Jacob was her last hope, and she knew exactly where to find him in Allegan. She’d promised Pearl not to travel there alone, but Garrett would never accompany her now.
Surely this Jacob wouldn’t have gotten her letter yet. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have set off downriver at night. He would wait until morning. Or send a note by return mail. She could not wait for him to arrive in Singapore. The moment he set foot ashore, he would hear the rumors about her and turn back.
No, she must go to him. Now. Tonight.
She shoved her few belongings into her carpetbag. It took mere minutes, but by the time she finished, she’d gained the sense to know she couldn’t just walk out of the boardinghouse in the middle of the evening without raising a lot of questions. Even now she could hear Fiona return. The front door slammed as Mrs. Calloway asked how the rehearsal went.
Amanda could never slip away unseen now. She must wait until everyone retired and fell asleep. She shoved the carpetbag under the bed. In the meantime, she could finish sewing Pearl’s wedding dress. Mrs. Calloway could dye the gown. When everyone had fallen asleep, Amanda would slip out and make the journey upriver on foot, guided by the light of the crescent moon.
* * *
Amanda had to wait until well after the clock struck midnight, because Fiona picked that night to stay up late. Pearl drifted into a deep sleep more than an hour before, and Amanda slipped from bed so she would not wake her friend. Every few minutes she tiptoed to the door in stocking feet, but the glow of Fiona’s lamp didn’t dim until sleep began to press on Amanda’s eyelids. At last the lamp went out. She then waited another length of time until she could be certain Fiona was asleep.
Then she crept out of the room and down the creaking stairs, fearful that each movement would awaken someone.
Be with me, Lord, she silently prayed. Though she struggled to believe He would involve Himself in the tiny details of everyday life, tonight was a crisis. Not like that evening with Hugh. Tonight Amanda feared her last hope would disappear, leaving her nothing. Even after Hugh’s betrayal, when silent tears had dampened her cheeks during the long night, she’d had Pearl. She’d always had Pearl to rely upon.
No more.
After donning shoes and coat, Amanda slipped outside. The porch creaked underfoot, and she froze. She’d forgotten something. Her carpetbag! But she couldn’t return now and risk being discovered. She’d send for it once she reached Allegan.
The crisp night air bit into her cheeks and made her shiver inside her woolen coat as she hurried through town onto the rutted, narrow road that wound its way upriver. No snow dusted the ground, thanks to the unusually warm days, but the night air was cold enough to turn her breath white.
On and on she walked, the sliver of moon revealing each exhale.
The children loved the way their breath turned to clouds of white in the cold air. They would say “ha” over and over just to see it take shape in front of them.
Oh, the joy of childhood!
Amanda had known so little of it. The years before her mama and papa died were too short to recall. Grandmama was strict and feeble. She would not play with her or make any concessions for a girl’s imagination. Dolls were for viewing, not playing with. The orphanage had been just as dreary. Toys were few and highly contested. Since Miss Hornswoggle showed her preference by giving Amanda the prettiest dresses, the other children made sure she received none of the toys or was soon divested of any she was given.
The Chatsworths? An exercise in obedience and learning a skill that would bring her a decent position in service. A lady’s maid, if she paid attention.
Yet her imagination had run wild, dancing briefly upon each beau that visited Lena, until it landed firmly on the young man who noticed Amanda first. Hugh would catch her when she least suspected it, popping from a doorway or a hidden nook in order to bestow a compliment on her hair or her gown or her smile. Soon compliments gave way to declarations of his affection, followed by the briefest of kisses that left her longing for more. When he promised marriage and an escape from a future in service, she believed him.
Oh, how wicked that man’s deceit! He had drawn her in slowly until she was caught in the net. Singapore was supposed to erase that. Marriage, even in name alone, would give her what she most craved—a real family.
Now Hugh had shattered even that.
Her foot sank into the ground, and she stumbled forward, landing on her knees. The cold, damp earth soaked through her mittens and gown. She gingerly rose to her feet. Nothing broken. Her ankles were still solid, but where was she?
She must be past the burned area. The dim light revealed nothing but saplings and scrub, tall enough to block her view. She ought to hear the river, but the night was soundless except for a snapped twig here and a rustle there.
Again she shivered.
There might be wild animals out here. Wolves. Coyotes. Pearl had mentioned bears, though no one had actually seen one in town.
Amanda was no longer in town. She wasn’t anywhere familiar at all, but the road continued on. So she would plod forward and hope that by dawn she would find herself in Saugatuck.
Crash!
The sound of something falling sent her heart into her throat. What was that? A bear? A man?
She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. It didn’t matter where, as long as she got away from whatever had made that terrible sound.
* * *
“I saw something I shouldn’t have,” Garrett admitted to his brother.
He’d stared out his bedroom window and gnawed on the letter’s damaging words all night. The sliver of a moon lit the snowless landscape just enough to remind him of the nights after Eva’s death. Nights when guilt had tormented him, when he’d revisited every word and gesture until he could list every chance he’d missed to avoid the tragedy. He’d dragged through the days and weeks, barely conscious, until the men told him to go home from the mill before he got someone hurt.
Too late. He’d already hurt Eva. He’d driven her to her death.
In those dark days, only Roland would listen. He’d seemed to understand, and from bitter enemies they became allies. Their sole cause was to spare Isaac and Sadie as much pain as possible. To do so meant swallowing their own guilt and pressing forward.
Garrett had done it, and in time he’d found a new life. It wasn’t as exciting, but of late it had become more appealing than a single day of that combative marriage. He looked forward to seeing Amanda each day. He longed for her smile, the shy glances and flush of her cheeks. She’d been perfect in every way that Eva had been imperfect.
Then he’d seen the letter.
If only he could undo that moment. If only he hadn’t bent over to retrieve the envelope. If only the front had landed up instead of the back. If only the glue hadn’t failed. But none of that was true.
He had read the evidence against her.
“What did you see?” Roland leaned against the store counter, a gleam in his eye. “I hope it was worthwhile.”
Garrett frowned. His brother was so happy these days that he turned everything into a joke. “This isn’t a game. It’s a letter.”
“A letter?” Roland’s grin vanished. “Since you haven’t received one in years, I’m guessing you mean someone else’s letter.”
“I didn’t mean to look. The envelope was falling apart, and the flap was open. The sentence was right there in front of me.”
“So, you saw one line of a letter by accident. No one knows, so forget it.” Roland scribbled something in his ledger.
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean? You just forget and go on.”
“The letter was to Amanda.”
That drew Roland’s attention. “Oh?”
Even now, Garrett couldn’t repeat the scurrilous words that he’d read. “What if it isn’t true? It can’t be.” He raked a hand through his thick hair. “I’ve thought about it all night. After all, she’s been the model of modesty and Christian kindness ever since she arrived. Sadie and Isaac certainly think so.” The idea that she might have deceived his children made Garrett sick.
“Wait a minute. What are you talking about?”
“Amanda,” he said miserably.
“Maybe you’d better tell me what, exactly, you read.”
Garrett blew out his breath. This was the tough part. Seeing what wasn’t meant for his eyes was bad enough, but repeating it turned what he’d seen into gossip. Unless it was true. Then he would be warning everyone against the worst sort of deceiver, someone exactly like his late wife.
“She might be more like Eva than we thought.”
Roland stared at him. Then he laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day when Garrett Decker was scared. Did you ask her to marry you yet?”
“No.” Garrett regretted mentioning to Roland his intent to ask Amanda for her hand in marriage, but he’d needed advice after his first attempt to ask her had failed. Roland had naturally leaped to assuming Garrett loved Amanda, and nothing Garrett said could convince his brother that this marriage would be in name only. Maybe it was a good thing that he’d never asked for Amanda’s hand. Maybe God was sparing him another disaster. “How could I after I saw that letter?”
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