Children jumped out of line searching for parents that still clapped and exclaimed their pride. Towels dropped over shoulders quickly followed by adoring hugs.
Delphina let her gaze roam the huge mass of people. Every chair, two rows on each side of the pool and four rows deep in the observation deck, had been full with people standing in nooks and crannies. Not one shocked gasp about the more modern swimming attire. To her, that was the true success of the night.
As the area thinned of attendees, and they moved toward the reception, Mr. Broadwater and his wife walked a happy Wilder between them. The girl's face glowed pink from exertion still, but also exhilaration matching Delphina's feelings well.
He didn't look well, but joy emanated from his entire being. "Well done, Miss O'Connor. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack with that high diving trick."
Lea brought a towel and wrapped her arms around Delphina's waist in a hug. "You were wonderful!"
Delphina hugged her back and then wrapped the towel around her shoulders. "You were too, Lea. I'm really proud of how fast you, and all the girls, learned that complex routine."
Julia Broadwater agreed, "It was pure magic, dear. I think you've done exactly what we expected of you."
After a few short coughs, Mr. Broadwater added his thoughts. "I couldn't be more pleased with the two of you. I expect the swimming classes to keep growing now." He took her hand. "Thank you."
Hugh put an arm around Delphina. "Sir, what do you say we hold a sign up day for summer sports next week? We could feature all the outdoor activities like the horseback trail rides, paddle boats, and I was thinking of a croquet summer league."
"I think," Mr. Broadwater's wheezing stopped the conversation. He sucked in a rough breath. "I think you should go ahead. But now I need to rest." His eyes softened as he put a weak hand on Wilder's wet hair. "I'm grateful to have seen my daughter display such a beautiful talent." He looked back to Delphina. "Thank you. No matter how things go from here, I want you to know you are a very special young lady. Some young man is going to be very lucky," he paused and glanced at Hugh. "Yes, some young man will."
Did Hugh just turn red?
She smiled. "I appreciate such a great compliment, sir."
Mrs. Broadwater put her hand on her husband's back. "I think we need to get Wilder a bit of a treat and then it's time for us all to retire." The lady, ever gracious like her husband, supported him without drawing attention that he'd become the weaker vessel. "Don't you think so, dear?"
The love in his eyes had not dimmed for his still trim and youthful looking bride, though the last weeks took a toll on him. "Goodnight, you two. Such a well done show."
As they walked down the exterior stairs and around the fountain of a boy holding a boot, she wrapped an arm around her husband. Wilder burst past them and caught up with her parents, wet hair stringing down the back of her school dress.
Delphina watched them as the doors closed. "If that kind of family weren't so rare, I might be swayed."
"What if someone cared about you enough to want that kind of family?" Hugh asked.
She stepped back from the door as another group of people congratulated them on the program as they left.
Once alone again, she tried to convince him of the futility. "Really, Hugh, I was being kind. I find it hard to believe it possible." Delphina's eyes clouded. "What an amazing man."
Pointing out the glass inset, Hugh said, "It's right in front of you. That kind of family exists."
"But I said it's rare."
"Why? Why do you think it's so rare?"
"Don't you hear the married couples around you? They're so busy, so focused on everything but each other and their children." She shook her head, "No. I don't want that kind of life." Delphina chose to meet his eyes straight on. "If you believe in fairy tale love, I can show you girls getting off the train one day and getting married the next right here in Helena. I can show you women who have dreams one day and the next she's left them behind to support her husband's. How many couples have a marriage that lets both people grow into their potential?"
"And I can show you more couples like the Broadwaters, the Shanahans, the Russells and my own parents. How many would you like me to name before you believe happy marriages with mutual respect and support are possible?"
"I–" With examples like those, what kind of proof did she need?
Chapter 7
Hugh held a black umbrella above them as he climbed the hill beside Delphina. The press of people and carriages filled the grounds. Four special trains arrived one after another for Colonel Broadwater's funeral. The viewing procession would take all day with the thousands of friends coming to support the family. As he spread a wool blanket in new spring grass even the hillside began to fill with the overflow of mourners despite the colder day and bit of snow still melting from a late, but not unheard of, storm.
"This should keep us dry and comfortable." He offered a hand to seat Delphina. "I thought you could do with a short time away from grounds, but…" Huge spread a hand gesturing at the pockets of people already following their example.
She spread her black dress off to the side, making room for Hugh to join her. "At least we can breathe up here." Delphina's voice quivered as she perused the grounds spread out like a postcard not far below. "He's never going to see his dream succeed."
"Yes, yes he did. He built this amazing place."
"But it never operated at a profit. There are more people in that procession than ever graced the plunge in the time it's been open." The line backed up the road into the forty-acre property. "He never felt the satisfaction of knowing his dream would succeed."
"Delphina, I don't think that's the point at all. We see things as a success or a failure if they make money or fame. But that's not how God works. He works on an eternal level."
Her black bonnet brim blocked the late morning sun beginning to warm the day. "You know what I meant." Her eyes dulled when she turned to look at him. "If a man can affect a state and so many lives the way Charles Broadwater did, then why couldn't he see his own vision come to fruition?"
"How do you know the Hotel Broadwater and Natatorium wasn't successful? He built an amazing resort. But look at all the families he supported through the jobs, all the people whose lives were positively affected because one man had a dream in the first place."
By Delphina's delay, she considered Hugh's profound thoughts as she watched the carriages and mourners draped in black creep forward. "But wouldn't you want to know? Don't you think he felt depressed in the end?"
"Did you see his face when he watched from the family suite balcony? He loved watching other families play croquet, sit in the swings, and just stroll. I think he experienced elation each time he saw anyone enjoying the specialness he built." Hugh touched her cheek and gently turned her face toward his. "I see the lives he touched through his lifetime. Look at the fact that he brought you out here to work. It changed your life didn't it? I know he changed mine. I had the honor of mentoring under his tutelage for four years. Now I wonder whom I'll be able to mentor. Whose life will I influence? How many families can I support through the business ventures still ahead of me because of him?"
"You're right. I hadn't thought of it that way. Some of the biggest opportunities in the world started as a dream."
"It isn't how rich we become. It's how we've enriched the lives around us. That's what I learned from Colonel Broadwater, to be a man that helps others to succeed—then when I close my eyes for the last time, I'll be content with how I lived. He brought a lot of joy into the lives around him. I hope someone will be able to say the same about me. Can you imagine what's happening in heaven right now?"
"In heaven?"
"I see the Lord greeting our friend. I see him showing one short, bald man how the world changed because he was a servant, obedient, and willing to act on the dreams he'd been given. Because of that courage, Charles A. Broadwater inspired thousands of people and helped Montana become a s
tate. His life was a success. He didn't need a building to prove it or this long line of well-wishers."
Delphina smiled. "I want to be the kind of a woman that influences others to dream as big as they can. I want to bring joy to those around me, too."
"If we continued to act as a team, I think we can both do that and more."
She looked at Hugh, but hesitated. "Both dreams?"
"I want you to have and get your dreams. Delphina, that is the purpose God gave you. I'd have a lot to answer for if I derailed your God-given purpose." His eyes crinkled into a loving smile. "The day I stand before his throne, the last thing I want to hear is the Lord asking me why I would stand in his way."
She gazed up from under her bonnet with such a beautiful, soft countenance. "I think Mr. Broadwater will hear that the Lord is pleased with the way he inspired us to embrace and reach for our goals."
"Wherever we go from here, Delphina O'Connor, I'd like it to be together." He cupped her cheek.
There wasn't any surprise as she tipped her face into his palm. Instead, her eyes swept closed. He felt the tickle of long black lashes trace against the warmth of his thumb. A thrill washed over Hugh as she said, "Me too."
Hugh wrapped an arm around her. "Would you be willing to take the plunge and marry me?"
"As long as you don't keep me in the shallow end."
A quick burst of wind ruffled blew Hugh's hat off into Delphina's lap. "Never." He reached for it at the same time as she did. "We're a team." He met her eyes and then his gaze dropped to her mouth, longing to touch his lips to hers.
"Then where you go, I will go." She smoothed his hair back into place and traced her fingertips back to his neck. The intimate touch drew him toward her.
Hugh lowered the umbrella, blocking any onlookers but those in heaven, and kissed Delphina's upturned lips.
Eleven Pipers Piping
Chapter 1
Helena, Montana — Winter, 1890
Mirielle spun from the schoolroom door. "What do you mean you'll send them to military school or indenture them?" As cold as the Montana winter wind blew against the new glass windows, the heat in her blood boiled. "The newsies don't need slavery. And they certainly don't deserve the misery of military life when they haven't even had a childhood!"
"Miss Sheehan," the superintendent spoke softly. "All the town council asks is for you to help round up the boys. You're not going to —"
"Betray them?" Mirielle balled her hands at her sides. "Those boys work hard. They trust me."
He sighed. "Those boys are going to freeze to death if they don't land in more trouble first."
"They've been fine in the Shanahan stables. Albert and Calista have created spaces with cots in the stalls. I want a better home for each of them, we all do. But they outright refuse. At least they're warm and safe."
"You made my point for me, warm or not. Refusal to meet the norm means those boys can't fit into society. They're an unruly bunch and uncivilized. That madhouse they created during the Miss Snowflake Pageant was just the beginning. Running amuck like that in a ballroom."
"They were just trying to catch the kitten when —"
"It all worked out that time, but cat or no cat, it just can't continue." He swiped a handkerchief against his brow.
"Remember those boys set up the ballroom in the first place. That has to say something for their character. Store owners are hiring them for message boys and—"
"They must become productive citizens."
Mirielle shivered. Cold, yes, but confrontation always brought out a sweat in her superior.
His eyes softened, "As industrious as the newsies are at getting odd jobs to supplement their newspaper sales, the lot of them aren't going to make it as adults without some form of discipline and an education."
"Of course. That's why Calista and I've been meeting the boys with food each day and reading lessons twice a week." What did these people think — eleven young street boys would miraculously become model citizens? They needed love and people to teach them manners, not some convenient solution to rid the streets of orphans. "For pity's sake, these are the same boys no one adopted from the Orphan Train—to rid cities back East of miscreants. All well meant then too. Meant to rid them of a problem and dump it on other people."
"Truly, I'm not here to argue." Mr. Randolph straightened his back and dabbed his neck. "Either you help the merchants manage the mayhem or the sheriff will."
"You'd do that?" Mirielle shook her head as her eyes misted. "After all our work gaining their trust and friendship, isn't the goal to help those boys become solid citizens? They'll be like caged animals. Education is the answer, not punishment."
"Miss Sheehan, they're already lacking social manners. Most folks feel the newsies are living like animals. It hurts hearts to see children scavenging like that little Joey boy even if he does have the leader for a brother." Mr. Randolph rolled back onto his heels. "Frankie is barely old enough to be on his own, if he's truthful about his age. How is it right that he's trying to provide for a six-year old?"
She closed her eyes. "Of course it isn't." Mirielle opened her eyes and plead, "Can't you see separating them would devastate not only those boys, but shatter the group? Frankie has managed to keep a ragtag bunch productive. They deserve a chance with our help."
"I think they're out of chances after that last incident." He shook his head. "Boys can't be running amuck in and out of stores and hopping trollies like leap frog. Poor Mrs. Broadwater nearly lost her shopping bags and her wits when one of those boys landed in her lap the other day."
Mirielle almost laughed, but caught herself. The inconsistent trolley schedule irritated workers already. They'd be further annoyed by boys playing pranks, fun-loving or not. "Please ask the council for a little more time to educate them."
She looked around the room as Mr. Randolph deliberated. Education. Yes! Why couldn't the newsies come here? "I'll talk to the priests and the school board about getting the newsies into a classroom."
"I can't see how that would work."
"The church believes in charity. What better place for young boys to learn discipline and the social graces than an exclusive boys' school?" But how would they manage eleven new students? Even a church has limits to their resources.
"Excuse me."
Mirielle and Mr. Randolph startled at the baritone voice.
The intruder cleared his throat and looked at Mr. Randolph. "I apologize for interrupting, but I understand you're the one to talk to about some boys placed here as boarders."
Mirielle stepped back, the attractive man ducked to get into her classroom. She wasn't a short woman. But goodness was he a tall man — with sand-colored straight hair and light blue eyes and… She swallowed back a gasp at the sight of his strong physique. What in the world? She'd seen attractive men before. Mirielle puckered her brows at the heat searing into her cheeks despite her efforts to quell it. What a goose reacting like that!
"Miss Sheehan, I'll expect an answer by end of the week. The boys are in school and settled," he held up his hand to ward off her interruption, "or they're shipped off for a more disciplined education."
Three days. She had three days to convince Frankie to convince ten other boys to start going to school. She already knew the argument. How would they earn enough income if they sat in a schoolroom all day? But they wouldn't have to scrounge for meals if they'd agree to boarding school. It was all-inclusive.
Mirielle swallowed a groan. Where would she get the additional funds to convince the priests and the head master the new school could support eleven more boarding students?
Mr. Randolph turned to the visitor. "And you, sir, are?"
The handsome man extended a hand to the school's headmaster. "Evan Russell, sir." They shook. His eyes flicked up to Mirielle's as he also offered a polite handshake to her. "Ma'am."
A tingle raced from fingertip to elbow to shoulder to heart. Mirielle's eyes grew wide at the ripple. She couldn't look away from his sim
ilarly stunned eyes. And that ripple hadn't stopped racing through her arm like a sudden flash flood rushing into her heart.
"Miss Sheehan?" Mr. Randolph broke into her silence. "I believe your duties call."
"Um, yes." She snatched her hand back. Flustered? The teacher who could manage the toughest child and go toe-to-toe with the most demanding parent? She never flustered. What did he do to her? "My—uh—pleasure to meet you, Mr. Russell." Mirielle forced herself to back away.
His gaze stayed connected to hers as Mirielle bumped into her desk and then felt her way around it like a miner in a blackout. A flush rushed boot to root. She jerked her chin away and plopped into her seat. Better to concentrate on grading than on being graded by strange man. She swallowed. Such a man, for certain, with strong, wide shoulders filling out the heavy wool coat.
He seemed to hear Mirielle's thoughts as his gaze still heating her skin. Electricity passed between them as strong as the gusts against the glass.
Evan yanked his attention back to the superintendent. Mining had been a long, lonely process as he'd built up savings to provide for his son and their future. He'd come looking for Joseph, not a new wife. But even his poignant memories of pretty Nadine didn't rival this russet-haired beauty that seemed to flush at the slightest glance. If he intimidated the little school marm, how in the world did she manage a classroom of children?
"Mr. Russell?" The superintendent waited.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled to the tubby man. "I think I left my manners in the mine." It'd been a long time since he'd experienced a woman's scent, er, presence.
"Well, how can we help you then?"
"My son is missing, sir." Miss Sheehan's inhale caught Evan off guard. He cleared his throat. It still hurt every time he had to repeat it, but sympathy choked him to silence. Do-gooders needed to either help him or stay out of it. He dredged deep for the courage to tell it one more time. "I left him with relatives after my wife died. I had to work elsewhere. For a long time, I'd get an update once a month. But those updates stopped coming a year ago. Being the dead of winter, I assumed mail was having trouble getting through. After the melt, I came over the mountains. When I inquired, I heard…" He ran a hand through his hair. "My brother's home burned down, and according to all accounts, my family was lost."
Taking the Plunge Page 6