Where The Heart Is

by Sheridon Smythe

  "You."

  No! was her silent, instinctive response. She could not tell Elliot about her mother, and the circumstances surrounding her mother's death. He would be appalled—disgusted. “I—I need to go inside. Some other time, perhaps.” Hopefully, that ‘some other time’ would not materialize.

  After a heart-stopping hesitation, he let her go. She felt his eyes watching her as she let herself in. With a sigh, she bolted the door, confident that Hickory would not return tonight.

  He'd better not. The little scamp had caused her enough trouble for one night, not to mention the beginnings of a heartache.

  "Elliot's seems wonderful,” she whispered regretfully as she slipped beneath the quilt. But he's engaged, her conscience added.

  Defiantly, she closed her eyes and conjured an image of Elliot as he had looked in the moonlight—just before he kissed her.

  Dreams were harmless.

  Weren't they?

  * * * *

  Marla opened the door early the next morning to find Natalie on her doorstep. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and blinked. “What on earth are you doing here this early! Is something wrong?"

  Natalie shook her head and moved inside, craning her neck around. “Noah home?” she whispered.

  "No. He's already gone to the Mercantile."

  "Hickory?"

  "Still abed, the little sleepy head. I don't know what's gotten into him, he usually doesn't sleep this late.” With a worried frown, Marla urged her into the kitchen. “I'll make coffee. Sit down.” Rubbing her stomach, she set about making a fire in the stove. Something was up, but she knew her friend would get around to telling her in her own good time. It couldn't possibly be about Elliot, she decided, because she had spoken to Natalie after his visit yesterday.

  "I need to borrow a dress,” Natalie blurted out.

  Ah. Marla hid a satisfied smile. “Which one? Lord knows I can't wear anything decent these days.” She gave her stomach an affectionate pat and turned to look at Natalie. Really look at her. Her critical gaze skimmed her anxious features, noting the subtle changes in her friend this morning. She had drawn her naturally curly white blonde hair into a smooth bun at the nap of her neck, but a few unruly curls had already escaped, framing her face. The style emphasized Natalie's delicate oval shaped face and made her deep blue eyes look huge.

  They were huge, she silently corrected. Huge and shadowed, as if she hid secrets—

  "What are you hiding?” she demanded, suddenly certain something had happened she should know about. Maybe she was wrong and it did involve Elliot. What else would cause this flush?

  Natalie's blush deepened. “Nothing."

  She squirmed in the chair, avoiding Marla's direct gaze. Another sign that she recognized. Natalie was definitely keeping something from her. Sniffing, she pumped water into the kettle and measured the grounds. She was growing mighty tired of everyone molly-coddling her just because she was going to have a baby. Slamming the kettle down on the hot plate, she finally turned around. If everyone insisted on treating her like an invalid, then she was going to use it to her own advantage. Served them right!

  Schooling her features into a look of extreme anxiety, she twisted her hands together and suddenly wailed, “Is it so terrible you can't tell me?"

  Her ploy worked. Natalie jumped from the chair as if she'd sat on something hot. “No! No, nothing like that.” She rushed to her and grabbed her twisting hands to still them, her own expression mirroring Marla's.

  Marla felt a tiny flash of guilt. She quickly squashed it. If she didn't work at stopping this ridiculous nonsense of treating her like she was made of glass, then she'd be screaming long before this baby was born.

  "I promised not to tell,” Natalie said in a voice so miserable, Marla instantly knew what she meant. “But I can't tell you what happened without telling you why it happened."

  "Hickory."

  Natalie nodded and began to chew on her nails. From a habit formed long ago, Marla gently pried her fingers away. “Tell me. I promise I won't break."

  They both sat at the table as the kettle ticked and steamed on the stove top. Marla braced herself for bad news. Outwardly, she forced herself to appear calm and strong. Whatever it was, she could handle it. She had to show them that she was stronger than they believed her to be.

  Reluctantly, Natalie told her the story—all of it. When she was finished, she plucked at the table cloth, obviously in an unusual state of agitation. A fierce blush added a wonderful color to her cheeks.

  Marla thought she'd never seen Natalie look lovelier, and she couldn't have been more pleased. Hickory's part in the adventure hurt a little, but she was coming to terms with his love for his ‘Natty'.

  "Do you think I'm just awful?” Natalie asked in a strangled whisper.

  Covering her laughter with a cough, Marla shook her head. “Of course not, silly! In fact, I envy you. A romantic interlude in the moonlight with a handsome man like Elliot Montgomery—"

  "But he's engaged,” Natalie said, sounding shocked.

  Marla shrugged, her smile mischievous. “Engaged, Natalie. Not married. Engagements can be broken, and if ever I've seen one that needs broken, this one does. He and Suetta are not suited, mark my words, and he seems so unhappy."

  Natalie quieted, her expression growing thoughtful. “He did make a remark that led me to believe he wasn't exactly overjoyed with the arrangement."

  Remembering his pained expression yesterday when his fiancee had banged on the window of the store, Marla silently agreed.

  Getting to her feet, her friend began pacing the kitchen. Her faded, gingham dress swirled around her feet as she walked. The hem was worn and faded, but the figure-flattering style suited her. It hugged her slim waist and outlined her small, firm breasts to perfection before flaring out at the hips.

  "I can't get involved with Elliot,” Natalie suddenly cried out.

  "Why?"

  "Because ... well, because we know why he's here, for one thing. He's planning to close the orphanage. I could never be interested in a man who could turn helpless children out into the street."

  "You're not certain that's why he's here,” Marla argued. “And besides, even if that was his first intention, maybe after meeting you he's changed his mind."

  With a hopeful look, Natalie halted her restless pacing. “Oh, if only that were true!” Her expression crashed. “But Marla, he said he had bad news. He's coming back today to tell me. I don't think a little kiss in the moonlight's going to change his mind."

  She began her furious pacing again. Marla was beginning to feel dizzy watching her. “A little kiss?” She shook her head. “Doesn't sound like a little kiss to me."

  "But he's engaged! And I'm a little Miss Nobody. An illegitimate orphan."

  Narrowing her eyes, she demanded, “What's wrong with being an orphan?"

  "Nothing,” Natalie corrected hastily. “But what about the rest of it? What will he think when he hears about my mother?"

  Marla continued to glower. “Maybe he'll hear it from someone who knows the facts, and not from a drunken old bag who doesn't know beans."

  Suddenly, she dropped to her knees in front of Marla. “You've got to help me."

  "Anything. Just ask.” Marla was dying to get these two together. They were a perfect match, and no matter the obstacle, she and Natalie would overcome it together as they always had.

  They'd made the spit promise.

  "I like Elliot."

  "I know.” Ah, she'd called him Elliot. Marla kept her pleased smile to herself.

  "But I can't. I shouldn't."

  "Why not?"

  "We're too different.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Natalie rushed on. “He's wealthy and smart, and he knows exactly who his parents were. As if that's not enough, I could never consider giving up the children. You know that."

  Knowing Natalie as she did, she understood her feelings of loyalty to the orphans of Ivy House. Gently, she reached out and smoothed Na
talie's hair. Just as gently, she said, “Natalie, you've got your own life to live. The children will grow up. They're practically grown now. Don't miss this opportunity."

  Jumping to her feet, Natalie said with fierce passion, “I'll never desert them as Nelda has done. Never. I can't believe you're suggesting it."

  Unperturbed, she shook her head. “I wasn't suggesting you desert them, silly. However, you're probably not the only person capable of running Ivy House in Mrs. Boone's stead.” She could tell by Natalie's surprised expression that her friend hadn't thought of the possibility of getting a replacement.

  The hopeful light in her eyes quickly dimmed. “No.” She shook her head sadly. “No, you're wrong. Think about it, Marla. You know the children; they'd never take to a stranger, and someone else might not have the understanding and patience that I have with them.

  "No, it won't work. Look at Jo—she dresses like a boy and refuses to let her hair grow. And Lori, poor sick mite, and Cole, with his bashful ways, and Brett with his bold ones?” She sank slowly into the chair, much to Marla's relief. “They'd never get over my deserting them. Oh, what am I talking about? Elliot isn't really interested in little ole’ me. It's just a—a temporary attraction, that's all."

  With a sinking heart, she watched Natalie's mouth firm in that old familiar way. It meant she was setting her mind on something, and heaven help them all when she did.

  "I had a foolish moment, but now I'm thinking straight. Elliot was merely carried away by the circumstances and the ... moonlight, as I was. He's promised to another, a sophisticated, beautiful woman that will do him proud."

  Marla winced at the glitter of unshed tears in Natalie's eyes. She doubted Natalie was aware of them.

  "And ... and he's here to ruin our lives. That fact alone should make me ashamed to be thinking such silly, useless fancies.” Her chin tilted to a stubborn angle. “Well, whatever it takes, I've got to stop him, somehow, some way, for the children. I'm all they've got."

  She couldn't argue that point. Natalie was all the children had, and a fierce warrior she was, too. Did Elliot know what he reckoned with? she wondered with an inward swell of pride. If there was a way, Natalie would save Ivy House. But she feared it would be at the expense of Natalie's own happiness.

  Natalie rose and pasted a brave smile on her face that didn't fool Marla. “Well, that settles it. If Elliot is determined to save money he probably doesn't need by closing us down, then I'm equally determined to change his mind. Now,” Natalie helped Marla to her feet. “About the dress."

  She felt as if the sun had suddenly appeared after a rainy day on hearing Natalie's request. Her smile was genuine. “Which dress?"

  "The blue one with the tiny white dots,” Natalie said without hesitation. Then, as if sensing the direction of Marla's thoughts, she added firmly, “Looking my best will give me confidence, and show Elliot that we are fully capable of taking care of ourselves. We don't need his ole’ money! I still have faith that someone will see the potential in our beautiful doll houses and make us rich. Then I'll buy Ivy house from him."

  "By that time their won't be an Ivy House to buy,” she reminded her dryly.

  Natalie looked startled, as if she had forgotten the vital fact that they were taking Ivy House apart for the lumber. Marla nearly laughed at her horrified expression.

  "I can't let him go upstairs,” Natalie whispered faintly.

  "No, I don't think that would be wise."

  "I've got to replace the lumber as soon as possible—before he does see what we've done to his house!"

  "I think that would be wise."

  She put her hands to her burning cheeks. “Oh, Lord help us."

  "Amen,” Marla said fervently.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "Does it really work?” Natalie asked, peering at the tiny mechanical elevator Cole had fashioned from pewter. He'd found an old vase in the attic among the rubble pile, and melting it down, had devised a remarkable elevator for the doll house currently under construction. She was amazed at his ingenuity and entranced by the device. She'd known they existed, but she'd never seen a real working elevator.

  Blushing at her admiring tone, Cole cranked a tiny handle attached to the outside wall of the house. To her delight, the elevator began to rise with a squeak. She watched it pass through the tiny windows of the doll house until it reached the third floor.

  "It's amazing,” she breathed sincerely. This doll house would certainly sell—it had to. “Is it nearly finished?"

  Absently, he nodded. “Yep. It'll be ready to paint by Sunday."

  It was Thursday. Three more days and she would put the finishing touches on the doll house and display it alongside the one already in the store. Flushed with pride, Natalie glanced at the others gathered in the attic around the project. It was obvious they all enjoyed their work. Her gaze landed on Lori.

  With her lip caught between her teeth, Lori sniffled as she glued tiny cushions onto the furniture Brett had fashioned. Natalie sighed, wishing Lori didn't have to suffer such a nasty cold for so long. But Lori had always been a sickly child.

  Sitting in front of the attic window to catch the light, Brett put the finishing touches on a miniature, delicately carved four poster bed. Jo stood nearby, gathering empty plates left from the lunch she had served them.

  Cole placed a drop of oil in the winding mechanism to remove the squeak, his black hair falling into his eyes as he bent his head.

  "You are all so talented!” she praised, her eyes misting. She couldn't bear the thought of failing them; they were her family. They needed her.

  "Yeah,” Brett muttered, staring morosely at the doll house. “Too bad Old Lady Boone didn't stay around long enough to see her birthday present."

  Natalie winced, remembering the very first doll house and how hard they had all worked. Secreted in the attic with candles, bundled against the cold, they had worked late into the night on the surprise. Without actual words being spoken, she knew they had all been hoping the gift would soften Mrs. Boone and bring a smile to her sad face.

  But Nelda Boone had skipped out before learning of their efforts, and Natalie, intent on getting rid of the reminder had coaxed Marla into displaying the doll house for sale in the store window. They could certainly use the money.

  To everyone's surprise and delight, it had sold the very first week to a wealthy couple visiting relatives in town. The couple had been unable to resist their little daughters pleas, which, according to Marla, had soon escalated into screeching demands. Natalie grinned at the memory.

  Jo tapped her on the shoulder. “He's here,” she said anxiously. “I saw him coming up the lane from the window."

  Her smile faded, but her traitorous heart leaped at the thought of seeing Elliot again. Brushing imaginary wrinkles from the pretty blue dress she'd borrowed from Marla, she straightened her spine and went to answer the door.

  By the time she descended the two flights of stairs from the attic, she was fully prepared for battle. Head erect, lips pursed, eyes glittering, shoulders back, she pulled open the door.

  Her first glimpse of Elliot brought memories of their moonlight tryst rushing through her mind like a strong wind, flooding her face with heat and color. Staunchly, she ignored the tell-tale blush she could feel. “Mr. Montgomery.” She nodded primly, just as she'd watched Nelda Boone do countless times when greeting visitors.

  "Natalie.” Elliot removed his hat, his eyes dancing with amusement at her rigid formality. He smiled so wickedly she gasped. “I thought we'd gotten formalities out of the way last night."

  Natalie gasped again. The last thing she needed was a reminder! Her dreams after she'd finally fallen asleep had been filled with shameless, sensual visions of Elliot, so intimate she'd blushed in the privacy of her own room.

  He was a—a monster for teasing her about her wanton behavior.

  After several quick breaths, she summoned her fighting spirit. If he thought to soft
en the blow with his charm, he would fail. She might be young, but she was old at heart. Precious lives were at stake, and he'd soon discover that using such underhanded tactics would get him absolutely nowhere with Natalie Polk. She wasn't like her mother.

  "Would you like to come in? We can talk in the parlor."

  He hesitated, then stood aside so that she could see the horses tethered to the porch. Natalie stared without comprehension.

  "I was hoping you'd go for a ride with me. I'd like to see a little of the countryside where my grandfather grew up."

  She stuttered. “But—but isn't that Marla's mare? And Noah's stallion?” She loved to ride, but seldom found the time.

  "Yes, it is. I was in the store this morning and your friend mentioned that you loved to ride. She offered the loan of the horses."

  She would, Natalie thought darkly. She and her match-making friend were going to have to have another long talk. Hadn't she explained very plainly to her that there was no future with Elliot Montgomery?

  She frowned in the direction of town less than a half a mile away, then shifting her doubtful gaze back to Elliot. He certainly looked fine this morning dressed in buckskin riding breeches and a black shirt. Too handsome. Too wicked. Too dangerous. Too hopeless.

  "Scared?” he taunted softly, watching her face.

  She stiffened. “Of you? Hardly. I was thinking of my reputation—"

  "It's safe with me."

  What an excellent liar he was! Natalie thought. Her body might be safe, but what about her heart?

  "What about Suetta?” She nearly grinned as his wicked smile suddenly floundered. “What would your fiancee think of you dashing around the mountain side with an unattached young female?"

  His expression suddenly grew serious. Natalie marveled at how quickly his mood could change. She found that she much preferred his teasing smile. When he smiled, she could almost imagine that he wasn't here to close Ivy House.

  "Suetta doesn't concern herself with business matters. She's much too busy matching tassels to the curtain material she purchased yesterday."

  Business matters. She swallowed hard. Yes, he was here on business and she'd do well to remember. Feeling chilled, she said, “I'll have to tell the children where I'm going."