Her Longed-For Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  “Thwart you? How?”

  “Questioning my orders or refusing to follow them.”

  “I have followed your orders.”

  “No message was ever delivered to Lady Caroline as I asked the night when the beam engine stopped for the longest time.” He could not keep from adding, “So far.”

  Yelland glowered at him even more. “I gave your message to one of the lads. He told me that he delivered it. Until now, I thought he had.” He slammed one fist into his other palm. “I will teach the lazy cur to lie to me.”

  Jacob tried to discern if the mine captain was being honest or playing his part like an expert actor. Too bad he did not have Carrie’s clear insight into people. Again he tried to push her out his thoughts. Again he failed.

  “Leave the lad be,” he ordered.

  “But—”

  “I said, leave him be. It is over and done with. What I am more interested in is what you know about the recent failures of the beam engine.”

  “You are talking to the wrong man. Pym is your assistant, not me.”

  “However, you have been in the engine house frequently when I am here. It makes me wonder if you are here as frequently when I am not here. Because of your visits, nobody would notice if you came in. It would give you the opportunity to wreak havoc on the machinery.”

  “Me? Wreck the machinery?” His face turned red with fury. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I cannot tell you, because I have not damaged the beam engine. No one hates when it isn’t working more than I do. I have miners complaining to me how they cannot go into the mine when the water is rising. They fear they will not get their work done on time, and they will not get paid. Do they come to you? No! They come to me.” Yelland’s hands fisted at his sides, but he did not raise them. “You should be more like your uncle. He stayed away, and we could do our jobs. The system worked well. Everything has fallen apart since you decided to intrude.”

  Jacob laughed tersely. “Everything had fallen apart before I got here. The housing, the mine shafts, the beam engines.”

  “I am not talking about that. I am talking about a system that worked fine until you came along.”

  “Really?” Jacob leaned against the railing, letting the shadow of the beam engine crisscross him and the floor in front of Yelland. “You say the men come to you to complain. They also come to me.”

  “They are not supposed to.”

  “Maybe not, but they have. Some of their complaints are silly. Others, though, have been insightful and worthwhile. Those ideas I have begun to implement.”

  “What ideas?”

  “Like making sure every team has one man keeping an eye on the walls around them at all times.”

  “If they are watching, they are not working.”

  “Every man is allowed a break during his shift. If he scans the walls to make sure no change signals a potential collapse, that does not keep him from resting. There are enough men there, so someone can be on watch.”

  Yelland reluctantly said, “Not a bad idea. Sounds like something Semmens would have suggested.”

  Impressed at Yelland’s knowledge of the men who worked beneath him, Jacob said, “Semmens was the one who came to me with it. He also suggested the walls be inspected at the beginning of each team’s work so they don’t start digging at a weak spot. I told him to talk to you about that so the practice can be begun as soon as possible.”

  “He asked to speak to me tonight when he comes up.”

  “Semmens isn’t the only one who lost someone from his family in the big cave-in the month before I arrived in Cornwall. His son is of an age to begin work in the mine soon, and he doesn’t want to lose him, too. You should listen to the men, Yelland. Some of their ideas are brilliant.”

  “And you should heed me, my lord. I have done nothing to halt the beam engine.” He glanced up at the huge beam. “Wouldn’t know how even if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. If the men fail to meet the date they gave you in their bid, I don’t get paid, either.”

  Jacob nodded. He had forgotten that one important fact. But if Yelland was not the one causing damage to the beam engine, who was?

  * * *

  Carrie’s bed bounced. Hard. One. Twice. Again and again.

  Another gunpowder explosion?

  She had not heard anything, but she had been deeply asleep. Her dream had been wonderful. It had been... The images faded away even as she tried to grasp for them. All she could recall was Jacob smiling at her in the dream.

  The bed bounced again.

  Opening her eyes, she stared at Gil. He was standing next to her and watching her.

  “Snow!” he shouted.

  For a second, she wanted to tell him unless it was snowing from the canopy of her bed, she was not interested; then she saw the glow of happiness on his round face.

  She put her finger to her lips. “Don’t wake Joy. Let’s keep the snow our secret!”

  “Snow,” he repeated but in a whisper.

  Holding out her hands, she smiled when he tugged on them. She pretended to have to fight her own weight to sit up. He laughed, then clamped his hand over his mouth.

  The children usually slept in the nursery, but last night, Carrie had allowed them to stay with her. Joy had been running a slight fever and was cranky as her first tooth tried to poke through again, so Carrie had wanted her nearby in case she woke. Gil had insisted on being with “his” baby. A small cot and Joy’s cradle had been set up in her room.

  Carrie went to the window. She shouldered away the heavy draperies and looked out. In the gray light before dawn, snow came straight down. Not a hint of wind stirred the fuzzy flakes. So far, only the tops of the bushes and grass were covered with the white icing. As fast as it was falling, she guessed several inches would accumulate by midday.

  “Go out!” urged Gil.

  She wanted to groan at the idea of trading her warm room for the cold hour before the sun rose. “Why don’t we wait until there is more snow? If we go out now, as soon as we touch it, it will melt away and be gone.”

  He considered her words, then nodded. “Go out later.”

  “That is a good idea. For now, though, shall we get more sleep?”

  “In your bed?”

  Again she smiled as she closed the draperies. “If you don’t wiggle.” She tickled his sides but stopped when he squealed with laughter. If they woke Joy, any chance of sleeping would be gone.

  She lifted him on to the high bed and watched him walk to the middle where she had been. On every step, the mattress shifted. He had not been bouncing to get her attention before. He had been trying to reach her.

  Lying beside him, she drew the covers over them. He nestled against her. His small body seemed the perfect size for her arms. As Joy’s did. She leaned her cheek against the top of his head and listened to him chatter about the things he wanted to do in the snow. She loved moments like this with the children.

  It was her last quiet one. Joy became fussy, and Carrie could find nothing to soothe her. Irene had the idea of wrapping a piece of ice in a cloth and letting Joy chew on it. That seemed to ease the baby’s discomfort.

  Gil was eager to get outside and play in the snow. Every two minutes, he asked if they could go out now. Again the nursery maid came to Carrie’s rescue, volunteering to keep Joy in the nursery while Carrie took Gil outside. When Carrie offered to take Bertie, too, Irene told her that he was with Arthur and Maris, who had left late yesterday to pay a call on Arthur’s longtime friend, Gwendolyn Miller, and her husband for a few days.

  Thanking Irene again, Carrie dressed Gil and herself in their heaviest clothes before she led him outside. Someone had shoveled the snow away from the door. She had no idea whose duty it was becaus
e, until the past few winters, she could not recall it snowing often. When it did, the scarce inch quickly melted.

  She guessed there was already six inches of damp, heavy snow on the ground, and more fell on the brisk wind, which had raised drifts against the side of the house. It might be a record accumulation for Porthlowen.

  Gil was having trouble plowing through the deeper drifts. Carrie picked him up and carried him around to the side garden where the snow was untouched. He chortled with delight as he ran about in a circle.

  “That looks like fun.” A deep laugh was not muted by the falling snow.

  Whirling, Carrie gasped. “Jacob! I didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “I am from the north. A little bit of snow does not keep me confined to the house. I was at the mine, and I decided to take the long road home.” He watched Gil racing through the snow. “I wanted to make sure he was not too disappointed. I can see he is not. You have been giving me many excellent lessons. I thought I might call and give one to Master Gil.”

  “Me?” asked the little boy as he leaped through the snow toward them. “Cuddle kitties?”

  “No, but I think you will like this, as well.” He bent and scooped up a handful of snow. “Try this.” He packed a snowball in his hands, then began to push it along the ground.

  Carrie helped Gil copy Jacob’s motions. The little boy dropped the first snowball and fell on top of the second when he tried to turn it through the snow. She kept him from giving into frustration and tears by quickly making a third snowball and assisting him until the snowball had become almost as tall as he was.

  “Perfect,” Jacob announced. “Now step back.”

  Gil did and fell in the snow. He was laughing when Carrie picked him and set him on his feet again.

  By that time, Jacob had hefted the large snowball she and Gil had made. He set it on top of the bigger one he had rolled. Calling Gil over to him, he helped the boy make another ball. He put this one on top of the other two. From his greatcoat pocket, he pulled out some small, dark stones. He put them on the uppermost ball to make a face.

  Gil stared in disbelief at the snowman, which was taller than he was.

  When the little boy did not speak, Carrie knelt beside him. “Look what you made. It is a man made out of snow. What should we call him?”

  “Gil?”

  She laughed. “No, that is your name.”

  “Toby?”

  “How about Mr. Winter?” suggested Jacob.

  “Mr. Winter! Mr. Winter!” Gil danced around the snowman.

  “I guess he likes that choice.” Carrie got to her feet.

  “That is one kind of snow people. Let me show you another.” He picked up the little boy and then bent to set Gil in a pristine section of snow. Lifting him again, he turned Gil to see the imprint. “Look! It’s a snow Gil.”

  “Snow Gil! Mr. Winter!” He tapped Jacob on the chest. “Snow Jacob now!”

  Setting the child down, Jacob grinned as he fell back, his arms spread wide. Snow billowed up in the air around him.

  Gil clapped his hands in excitement.

  When Jacob got carefully to his feet, Gil moved closer and stared at the shape he had made in the snow.

  “Snow Jacob!” he said with glee. He ran to Carrie and tugged on her hand. “Make a snow Carrie!”

  Jacob glanced at her with uncertainty. “Ladies don’t—”

  “Let anyone stop them,” she said as she went to where the two silhouettes were side by side in the snow. With a laugh, she stretched out her arms as Jacob had and let herself topple into the snow.

  It was deeper than she had guessed, and flakes flew in every direction around her. She breathed in the fresh, cold scent, feeling as young as Gil. She had played with Arthur under their nurse’s supervision, and they had teased to remain outside until their teeth were chattering with the cold so hard they could barely form a word.

  When snow trickled on to her face, she knew she could not stay in her memories of the past. She sat up and saw the delight on Gil’s face. She wanted to pull him into her arms and hug him, but it would ruin her Snow Carrie.

  She tried to stand, then realized she had not considered how much more complicated it was for her than Jacob and Gil. Neither of them had to contend with a coat that brushed the top of their toes or several other layers of clothes. She sat in the snow to figure out how to rise without damaging her silhouette.

  “Let me help.” Jacob reached a hand out to her from where he stood beyond the heels of her imprint. When she grasped it, he pulled her easily to her feet and toward him.

  She swayed, and he steadied her. When she had her feet underneath her again, he released her arm. She was about to thank him when his thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone as his gaze held hers. Their breaths fogged and merged between them, binding them together in some inexplicable way as time seemed to stop in one perfect moment.

  His eyes sparkled like the snow as his finger caressed her face, tipping it toward his. So many reasons why she should not be standing like this with him flew through her mind, but the single reason why she should was the only one that stayed. Being here beside him made her happy. She leaned toward him.

  “Snow Gil! Snow Carrie! Snow Jacob!” Gil’s chant sent time careening forward again as he pulled on her coat. “Look! Look! They hold hands. Make Snow Gil hold hands, too.”

  Carrie stepped away from Jacob, belatedly remembering to thank him for assisting her to her feet. Her breath caught when she looked at the imprints and realized Gil was right. Her left hand had hit the snow right next to Jacob’s right hand, so it looked as if the two figures had clasped each other’s fingers. Gil’s smaller imprint stood beneath their hands, and the image was of a family standing close to one another.

  Jacob picked up Gil again to keep the little boy from prancing through the snow shapes. “Watch where you step. We need to be extra careful.”

  Was he talking only about not damaging the snow people? If not, she did not need his warning. She knew the danger she risked if she gave into her yearning for him to court her.

  He must have, as well, because when she said it was time to go inside before they froze into real snow people, Jacob agreed.

  “I have not spent as much time with my family as I would like,” he said before he handed Gil to her and took his leave. He glanced back with a smile so warm she was surprised every snowflake did not instantly melt.

  She walked, as if in a waking dream, into the house, savoring the sensations that had flowed through her when they had stood face-to-face in the perfection of the sparkling world of the fresh snow. The entry hall was full. Susanna and Elisabeth had come to visit, along with the children.

  Gil rushed to the other children and began telling them about the different snow people they had created in the back garden. They pelted him with questions. Their voices rose with their enthusiasm until they were too loud for anyone else to talk without shouting.

  Carrie took control of the situation by sending for Irene. With the help of a footman and the butler, the nursery maid herded the children upstairs to where they could prattle to their hearts’ delight and play with the toys.

  “I will get Gil into some dry clothes,” Irene added over her shoulder. “You may want to come up for the children’s midday meal, Lady Caroline. Miss Joy’s tooth is close to breaking through. One good bite should break it free.”

  “I shall be there!” Carrie’s smile widened as she saw the excitement on the other women’s faces. Their shared love for the children made every event special.

  Taking off her coat and bonnet, she handed them to the waiting footman, who was almost invisible beneath the garments he held. She walked with her sister and sister-in-law to the small parlor where a fire warmed the room, but barely heard what they were saying as she replayed over and over in her min
d every word she and Jacob had spoken in the snow.

  But her attention was yanked to Elisabeth when her sister-in-law spoke the words Carrie had yearned to say for so many years, “Yes, it is true. I am going to have a baby!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What wonderful news, Elisabeth!” When Carrie hugged her sister-in-law, she wore a genuine smile. As much as she had longed for a child of her own, she knew Elisabeth and Raymond were equally eager to add a baby to their family as a sibling for little Toby. It was a blessing for all the Trelawneys.

  “I thought I had the sickness plaguing the village,” Elisabeth said, her face aglow with happiness, “but it was not that.”

  “Morning sickness,” said Susanna with a smile.

  “All-day sickness is more like it.”

  Going into the parlor, Carrie rang for a footman to bring cocoa. The hot drink would make for an excellent celebration. She urged Elisabeth to go in and put up her feet.

  “Not you, too!” her sister-in-law said with an emoted groan. “Raymond is hovering over me as if he fears I will shatter. I tell him to save his doting for the baby, but he will not listen.”

  “Or he cannot.” Carrie smiled. “He loves you so much.”

  “He does.” An odd expression crossed Elisabeth’s face as she pressed her hand to her middle. “Maybe I should sit. Not moving lessens the queasiness.” She reeled into the room and sat heavily by the hearth. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.

  As Carrie was about to follow, Susanna drew her aside. “How are you?”

  “Me? I am a bit chilled, but the cocoa will take care of that.”

  “Stop it, Caroline!” When a maid turned to look at them with concern, she lowered her voice. “You do not have to pretend with me. Do you think I didn’t notice how often you looked as if you had been crying? You are my big sister. I watched everything you did because I wanted to be exactly like you. I saw your unhappiness, and I asked Mother about it. She told me I must never speak to you of it because she was sure that time would eventually give you reason to dry your tears.”