Judith Stacy

by The One Month Marriage

  Feeling a little ashamed of himself, Brandon unloaded the rest of his things from his satchel as Jana left the room. He settled behind the desk and opened one of the ledgers. Minutes ticked by.

  He expected them to return here to look over the wallpaper samples. Where were they? Brandon drummed his fingers on the desk, then closed the ledger and went to find them.

  Voices drew him to the drawing room just down the hall from the foyer, a place where guests were customarily received. The tone of the conversation he overheard as he approached caused Brandon to stop outside the doorway. He leaned in a little, just enough to see Jana and Mr. McDowell standing in the center of the room.

  “As I’ve already told you,” Jana said, “I did not ask you to come over today, Mr. McDowell. Your services are not needed.”

  “But of course they are,” the man answered.

  McDowell’s dress was impeccable, his hair slicked carefully in place, his mustache waxed to perfection. He’d come highly recommended when Brandon had begun construction on the house. Yet there was something about the man that never sat quite right with Brandon.

  “Your husband advised me of your return,” McDowell said, “He instructed me to come here to see to the rest of the decorating. I’ve been here several times already, Mrs. Sayer, and frankly I’m a bit irked by your refusal to let me get on with my work. It’s only your husband’s reputation that keeps me from abandoning you completely.”

  Jana drew herself up. “Once again, Mr. McDowell, let me say that I do not require any assistance on your part. I am perfectly capable—”

  “Oh, really.” McDowell laughed, touching a hand to his chest. “How sweet, my dear girl, that you think you can attempt to take on a project of this nature. It’s priceless, really.”

  “Mr. McDowell—”

  “Stand aside, dear. I have a great deal to do and I doubt your husband would approve of you wasting my time with your delusions,” McDowell said, brushing past Jana.

  Anger flared in Brandon. Only a little earlier today he’d wanted to hit something. Now seemed like the perfect time.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded, striding into the room.

  “Mr. Sayer,” McDowell crooned, sounding relieved to see him. He waved his hand in the general direction of Jana. “This dear little wife of yours is in need of a good talking to on your part, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  Brandon glanced at Jana. Her back was rigid, her jaw set, her mouth pressed in a thin line. This certainly wasn’t the timid, naive bride he’d married. This was a grown woman, one who knew exactly what she wanted. Where had Jana gotten this determined streak?

  And why did he find it so appealing? Brandon wanted her, right there on the spot.

  “Now,” McDowell said, “if you’ll come with me, Mr. Sayer, we can go over all the work that remains to be done.”

  “Mr. McDowell.” Jana flung the words across the room. “I have already told you your services are not required.”

  The decorator didn’t bother to turn and look at her. Instead, he gave her words a dismissive shrug and said to Brandon, “Shall we proceed?”

  Was this the sort of thing Jana had to deal with when McDowell had been working on the house before? Brandon wondered. Had he been this condescending, this rude to her?

  Jana’s confrontation with the cook a few days ago came to mind. Mrs. Boone had been just as disrespectful to her. Had Jana’s wishes been completely disregarded by her also?

  Brandon looked at McDowell. The man’s brows rose, as if he was wondering what was taking so long. Then Brandon turned his gaze on Jana. She didn’t move. Just stood rigid. Waiting.

  Brandon turned to McDowell. “You’re fired.”

  “What?” His face reddened and his cheeks puffed out like a toad. “I—but—you—”

  “If my wife says your services aren’t needed,” Brandon told him, “then they’re not needed.”

  “Well!” McDowell drew himself up, then stuck out his chin and left the room in a huff.

  Brandon walked over to where Jana stood. “Is that the sort of thing you had to put up with when he was doing the decorating before?”

  “Yes,” she said, finally relaxing her stance a bit.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “You were gone, busy all the time, and…well, I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brandon said softly.

  She gave him a weak smile.

  “Would you like me to fire Mrs. Boone also?” he asked.

  Jana’s smile widened, and it pleased Brandon to no end that he’d elicited it from her.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” Jana said. “Mrs. Boone and I are learning to get along.”

  “Hire whomever you want to help with the decorating,” Brandon said. “Or handle it yourself. You’re doing a fine job of it. I’m sure my yellow study will turn out well.”

  “Actually,” Jana said. “I was thinking of changing the color from yellow to something else.”

  “Really?”

  “How do you feel about lilac?”

  Brandon looked at her. “Lilac will be perfect.”

  Jana smiled. “Thank you for understanding about Mr. McDowell.”

  “If you change your mind about me firing Mrs. Boone, just say so,” he offered. “Or any of the rest of the staff…or the entire staff. Whatever you want, Jana.”

  “Thank you.” She laughed gently and walked away.

  “Jana?”

  She turned back.

  “Were you involved with another man while you were in London?”

  The stunned expression on her face caused Brandon’s stomach to knot.

  “Were you?” he asked.

  Jana shook her head. “No.”

  “In Europe?”

  “No.”

  Brandon steeled himself. “And since your return?”

  A wry smile quirked her lips. “After our three months of marriage, believe me, the very last thing I wanted was another man in my life.”

  That he believed.

  “Fine, then,” he said, then felt guilty for his suspicion. “I’m sorry to ask, but—”

  “It’s all right,” Jana said. “We were apart for a long time. And married for a very short time. I’m sure there’s a great deal we don’t know about each other.”

  Brandon nodded. Jana left the room and he stood there thinking about what she’d said.

  And what she hadn’t said.

  When he’d asked her about an involvement since her return to Los Angeles, she hadn’t given him an answer at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Well, what do you think?” Beth asked.

  Jana nodded her approval as they walked down the hallway of the women’s refuge Beth had told her about at supper nearly a week ago. They’d just finished a tour of the facility and Jana was pleased to see that every room was spotless, every child and every mother clean and well fed.

  “It’s a very worthwhile cause,” Jana said as she followed Beth into the office near the front entrance. “But it must take a great deal of work to keep it running smoothly.”

  “Not really. The women in residence do most of the work themselves.” Beth gestured to the slate board on the wall where a grid of duties and volunteers had been written in chalk. “The women and older children gladly take on many of the duties here. Most of them have suffered some hard times before arriving.”

  Jana could well imagine the difficulties these women faced. Abandoned or widowed, left with children to provide for, most women lacked the skills and training to find jobs, to feed and clothe their families. Many were forced to accept charity from a kind relative, and if that wasn’t forthcoming, farm out their children to whomever would take them, or leave them at an orphanage.

  Jana shuddered at the thought.

  “Do the women resent the ladies who volunteer?” Jana asked. “I mean, women such as those in our social circle. We have so much and th
ey are barely getting by.”

  “Quite the opposite,” Beth told her. “In fact, the women in residence here seem very interested in the things we can teach them. They ask questions about etiquette, manners, proper table settings, how to write a thank-you note. Anything to better themselves.”

  “Really?” Jana asked, a little surprised. “You and I take that sort of thing for granted. We’ve been schooled in proper etiquette our whole lives, attended classes, read books on the subject. The women here probably never had access to that sort of information.”

  “We’ve incorporated some of those things into classes and, so far, it’s been very well received,” Beth said. “And, of course, the women help each other with all sorts of things. Problems with relatives, children who misbehave, friends who turned their backs on them in times of need.”

  Jana smiled. “Those sort of problems know no bounds. We’re all dealing with that kind of thing.”

  “The most difficult volunteer posts to fill are tutors willing to come in and work with the women on subjects such as math and English.”

  She pointed to another chart on the board and Jana saw many empty slots. “Everyone is eager to donate their money,” Beth said, “but not their time and expertise. You’d have to coax volunteers.”

  “What about the refuge’s finances?” Jana asked, glancing at a stack of ledgers on the edge of the desk.

  “There’s an accounting firm that handles the money, and a trustee who oversees the accountants. All we have to do is place orders for groceries and supplies, then keep the records so they can be reviewed monthly,” Beth explained. “For large expenditures, we simply write up a proposal and present it to the trustee for consideration.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” Jana said.

  “It is,” Beth agreed. “But you’ll only need to concern yourself with finding volunteer tutors. That will be your responsibility here—if you decide to help out.”

  Jana looked again at the vacant spots on the volunteer board. “The hardest job of all will be mine, huh?”

  “Sometimes a fresh face and a new approach works wonders,” Beth told her. “So, what do you—”

  “Beth?” A young woman stepped into the office, then stopped short when she saw Jana. “Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Beth said, waving her into the room. “Come in, Audrey. I’d like you to meet Jana Sayer. Jana, this is my cousin Audrey Bishop.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Audrey said, favoring her with a bright smile.

  She was a pretty girl, probably no more than eighteen years old, petite, slender with dark hair and stunning green eyes, and a smile that lit up the room. Her dress was a pink confection of ruffles and flounces, just the sort of thing Jana had worn only a few years ago.

  “Audrey lives near San Bernardino,” Beth explained. “Her father owns orange groves there.”

  “A boring farm,” Audrey said, wrinkling her nose. “Beth and Noah are good enough to let me come for a long visit from time to time.”

  “Do you help out here at the shelter?” Jana asked.

  “I love helping out, especially with the babies,” Audrey said.

  “I brought Audrey here initially so she could see the importance of marrying well,” Beth said, then shook her head. “But she sees it differently.”

  “Marry well?” Audrey repeated, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. “Seems to me it’s more important for a woman to get an education and learn to fend for herself.”

  Jana smiled. How could she disagree? And how could she turn her back on such a worthwhile cause?

  “You’ve convinced me,” she said to Beth. “I’ll take over the volunteer search, get people in here to teach English and math, and whatever else is needed.”

  “Wonderful,” Beth said. She sighed. “What a relief.”

  The bell over the door at the front entrance clanged. Audrey leaned out of the office and her eyes widened.

  “Now here’s something we don’t often see at the shelter,” she said, her brows lifting. “A man.”

  A few seconds later, Brandon appeared in the office doorway. Jana gasped at seeing him, and her heart beat a little faster. How could he still have that effect on her?

  “Afternoon, ladies,” he said, taking off his bowler and nodding to them.

  “Brandon, this is a surprise,” Jana said, but really it wasn’t. Lately, he’d made a point of asking her every morning at breakfast about her plans for the day. At first she thought it odd, then he started dropping by at luncheons bringing her flowers or having a poem delivered along with a single yellow rose. He’d made her the talk—and the envy—of all her friends.

  “Just thought I’d stop by,” Brandon said, “and take a look at where my donations have been going.”

  “To a very worthy cause,” Jana said, “from everything I see here.”

  “Jana’s offered to volunteer for us,” Beth said, then added, “If that’s all right with you, of course.”

  Brandon nodded. “Whatever Jana wants is fine with me.”

  “Would you like a tour?” Beth offered.

  “From your newest volunteer?” Brandon asked, looking at Jana. “Of course.”

  “My duties have begun,” Jana said with a laugh as she led the way out of the office.

  As she walked at Brandon’s side down the hallway, Jana couldn’t help but think how out of place he looked here. Tall, strong, sturdy, he seemed too big, too masculine for this place that catered to women and children.

  He attracted attention. Wherever they went in the shelter, every child, every woman stopped what they were doing and looked up. If Brandon noticed that he was the center of attention, he didn’t remark on it or react. Rather, he seemed enthralled with every word Jana spoke about the place.

  “So, what we need most,” she said, as they stepped out onto the back porch overlooking the rear yard, “is tutors for things like English and math.”

  Brandon tilted his head. “Seems to me what you need is a few men around this place.”

  So he had noticed. “I think perhaps some of the women here haven’t had positive experiences with their husbands,” Jana said.

  “But what about the kids?” Brandon gestured to the yard where about two dozen children played. They’d segregated themselves, the younger ones playing in a sandbox, a group of girls jumping rope, and at the back of the yard, older boys kicking a ball back and forth between them.

  “Those boys,” he said. “They need a man around. Not a bunch of women.”

  “Are you volunteering?” Jana asked.

  “Not to teach math or English,” he told her.

  “That’s all right,” Jana said. “I think I know how to solve that problem.”

  “You’re sure about this, Mrs. Sayer? You’re really sure?”

  “Yes, Oliver,” Jana said as she and the young newspaper editor walked through the front entrance of the women’s refuge. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know….” Oliver adjusted his round spectacles, settling them more comfortably on his nose. “I’ve never actually taught anything before, and I’m not certain that I have the knack for it. In fact, I might do more harm than good here.”

  When she’d agreed to take on the task of finding volunteers, Jana had thought immediately that Oliver Fisk was the perfect person to help the women improve their reading and writing skills. She’d made a trip to his office at the Messenger and presented her case. Oliver had been so flustered at seeing her there he’d spilled his coffee and knocked a stack of papers into the floor, but had agreed to her request right away. Now it seemed he was having second thoughts.

  “You’ll be fine,” Jana told him. “You’re perfect to help the women with their English. I can’t imagine anyone more qualified.”

  “Well, all right,” Oliver said, passing his satchel from one hand to the other. “If you say so.”

  “Come inside. Let’s get you settled.”

  She led the way into the office and saw Audrey fi
lling in a space on the volunteer board.

  “How did the math tutoring go?” Jana asked.

  “Fine. Mrs. Monterey seems a natural,” Audrey said, then dropped the chalk and turned around. “She’s coming back next—”

  Audrey stopped still at the sight of Oliver Fisk trailing Jana into the office. But this wasn’t the same surprised look Jana had seen on the girl’s face when Brandon had walked into the refuge. This was something else entirely.

  Jana glanced at Oliver. He seemed frozen on the spot, his gaze locked on Audrey. Jana made introductions.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Fisk,” Audrey said, her voice a breathy little sigh.

  Oliver opened his mouth but only a few stuttered words managed to escape.

  “Oliver will be helping the ladies with their English today,” Jana said, as she unpinned her hat and placed it on the corner cabinet. “Perhaps you could show him the classroom?”

  “Certainly. This way please,” Audrey said, leading the way out of the office.

  Oliver, clasping the handle of his satchel in front of his chest with both hands, didn’t move. He didn’t seem to be breathing, either.

  Jana tried to hold back her grin as she gave him a little nudge. “It’s all right, Oliver. Run along.”

  Yet another moment passed before the words seemed to sink in. Finally, he turned and joined Audrey waiting in the hallway.

  She looked back inside at Jana. “Oh, by the way, do you know about what’s going on in the backyard?”

  Jana frowned. “What is it?”

  Audrey gave her a devilish smile. “If I were you, I’d get back there right away.”

  Good gracious, what was happening? She couldn’t imagine.

  Jana hurried down the hallway, past Audrey and Oliver still clutching his satchel and walking like a wooden toy soldier. She opened the back door and stepped outside.

  The afternoon sun shone bright overhead in the blue, cloudless sky. A high wooden fence surrounded the large play yard, separating it from the alley out back and the building on either side. School had been dismissed for the day, so the older children now filled the yard, running in the grass, playing beneath the three towering oaks.