“I will. Thank you.” In his worry over Elizabeth, he’d forgotten his own responsibilities. As Kum Yong disappeared toward the kitchen, he joined the throng in the hall.
A good-looking couple lingered near the door, apart from the others. He wandered toward them. “Hello. Please, allow me to introduce myself.”
“I know who you are.” The man hooked his fingers over the top edge of a wine-colored vest.
“Oh?” Charles swallowed his words. “Have we met?”
“One of the children pointed you out. She called you ‘Teacher’s sweetheart,’ I believe.”
His jaw fell. Elizabeth would not be pleased. “You know children—they get peculiar ideas in their heads. Actually, I’m the Mission’s attorney, Charles McKinley.”
“Tobias Carver.” He shook Charles’s hand, arm stiff, and jerked his head toward the woman at his side. “And Mrs. Carver.”
“I’m pleased to meet you.” The chill of the stranger’s skin seeped into Charles’s palm, lifting the hairs on his neck.
Carver smiled even while his eyes shifted. “We’re pleased to be supporting such a fine organization.”
“It’s rewarding to see these girls escape slavery and begin new lives.”
The woman’s gaze wandered the room as if her mind were elsewhere.
Her husband continued. “I was surprised to discover Elizabeth here. I didn’t realize she had any interest in spiritual endeavors, though she’s always been drawn to hard-luck cases, I suppose. Women’s rights and such.”
“You know Elizabeth?” Hearing her name on another man’s lips sent a prickle down Charles’s back.
His nostrils flared. “Didn’t she tell you? Elizabeth was my protégé. I taught her everything she knows.”
Of course. The tutor who believed hymns were a waste of her time and talent. “You’re her piano instructor?”
“Among other things.” Carver thrust hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “I’ll refrain from asking you about the sweetheart comment. I suppose a gentleman wouldn’t deign to speak of such things. Might put a blight on a lady’s reputation.”
Mrs. Carver sniffed. “Tobias, let’s go. The concert’s over.”
“In a moment dear, there are a few more people I’d like to greet.” He met Charles’s gaze. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. . . . McKinley, wasn’t it?”
Charles nodded, not sorry to see the couple depart. He turned and watched as the Carvers made their way across the room, stopping to converse with several people. What was it about Tobias Carver that had unsettled him so?
A round-faced gentleman touched his sleeve. “Are you Charles McKinley, by chance?”
“Yes, sir.” Charles straightened.
The man captured his hand with a grip akin to a vise. “Mortimer Byrd. I’m the head of the Building Trades Council.”
Charles brushed away the previous meeting and prodded himself to smile. “It’s an honor.”
“I’m well acquainted with your uncle. In fact, he was just speaking to me about you, yesterday.”
“Really?” Charles stepped back.
“He’s very fond of you, obviously. Spoke highly of your work here.”
My uncle? Charles scrambled for a suitable response. “He’s quite concerned for the future of the city. Taking care of those less fortunate is a vital part of the process.”
The man clapped his shoulder. “Well said. Silas intimated that you’re seeking a city council post this fall. I’m glad to hear it.”
“This fall?” He swallowed. “Well, nothing’s been decided yet.”
“If anyone can make it happen, you know it’s Silas McKinley. When he throws his weight behind a candidate, people tend to step out of his way. Have you met my wife?” He gestured to a nearby woman, silver curls circling her face. “Mrs. Byrd, this is Silas McKinley’s nephew, Charles—the one he was telling us about.”
Her eyes brightened. “Mr. McKinley, such a happy coincidence. Miss Cameron was just speaking of you, as well.” She adjusted the mink stole draped over her shoulder. “As director of the Missions Board, I’d like to thank you for your effort on our behalf. It’s nice to see a young person who cares about his fellow man.”
Director of the Mission Board. Head of the Building Trades Council. A light flickered to life in the back of his mind, his uncle’s change of heart coming clear. “It’s been an honor to work beside Miss Cameron and her staff. It’s a fine thing they’re doing here for San Francisco.”
Motion on the stairs drew his attention. Elizabeth clutched the railing, her color resembling fireplace ashes.
Charles turned back to the Byrds. “I apologize for rushing away, but could you excuse me, please? There’s someone I need to speak with before she disappears.”
“Of course, dear.” The feathers on Mrs. Byrd’s hat bobbed in time with her head. “I hope we’ll see much more of you. We’ll send you an invitation for dinner.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
“Such a nice young man.” Mrs. Byrd’s voice carried over the crowd as he hurried toward Elizabeth.
He intercepted her near the bottom of the stairs. “How is Ah Cheng? Is she worse?”
Elizabeth’s shoulders drooped, as if the day’s excitement had taken a toll. “Measles, Robert says.” She returned to scanning the crowd.
He fought the urge to draw her away somewhere private. She didn’t appear up to socializing. “Everybody gets measles at one point or another, right?” When she didn’t reply, he tried another tactic. “I met your piano teacher.”
Her gaze jerked back to him. “Tobias? What did he say?”
Charles clasped her elbow, unsettled by the sudden sway in her posture. “Not much, but I can’t say I liked the man. Should I?”
She breathed out a long exhale. “Absolutely not.”
***
Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her throat as she stood midstair. The sensation of Charles’s hand under her arm brought stability to her trembling soul, even as she watched Tobias working his way through the room. I need to get him out of here.
She focused on Charles, standing at her side. “Thank you for being here today.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it. You know that.”
His smile melted the sliver of ice in her chest. “I do. And I want you to know something.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “If anything happens—if something comes between us—I’ll treasure our time together. You’ve given me hope for the future, even though I didn’t deserve it.”
His smile faded. “Elizabeth, I wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you. Is it that man?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” She tightened her grip on his arm, wanting nothing more than to lay her head against his shoulder.
Tobias had crossed the room and was shaking Donaldina’s hand. Elizabeth’s throat squeezed until her breath remained trapped in her chest. “I need to go speak to Donaldina. Please . . .” She met Charles’s fervent gaze. “Please, stay here.”
“If that’s what you want.”
As if slogging through thick mud, Elizabeth forced herself to cross to where Tobias and Donaldina stood.
The missionary turned with a smile. “Elizabeth, there you are. How is Ah Cheng?”
Elizabeth’s palms dampened as she pressed them against her skirt. “Robert believes it’s measles.” She glanced at Tobias, studying his eyes. Mrs. Carver had moved away to the opposite side of the room.
“Oh, dear.” Donaldina shook her head. “I’ll go and see her in a bit.” She gestured to Tobias. “Elizabeth, you didn’t tell me your former teacher was one of our donors.”
“I didn’t know myself, until today.”
“Perhaps you’d like to give him and Mrs. Carver a tour.”
Tobias’s brows pinched together. “I’m afraid we’ve already stayed longer than my wife would like. She doesn’t have the same appreciation for your work as I do.” His scrutinizing gaze fixed Elizabeth in place.
“And wher
e is your wife, sir?” Donaldina straightened. “I seem to have lost sight of her.”
“I believe she went to speak to the director of your Missions Board. Apparently, she knows the woman, somehow. Old classmates or some such.”
Elizabeth’s heart banged into her ribs. She stepped away from Tobias and Donaldina, scanning the room. In the far corner, she spotted Ruby, Robert, and Gerald coming down the stairs. Charles turned to greet them. And less than ten feet away, Mrs. Emily Byrd, the Mission Board director, stood face to face with Marie Carver.
Elizabeth’s breathing slowed as Tobias’s wife’s pointed a finger her direction. The woman’s raised voice carried above the din of the crowd, her accusing words painting a vivid picture of Elizabeth’s past.
Ruby jerked her head up, her hand flying to her chest. Her wide-eyed gaze found Elizabeth in an instant.
Charles clutched the railing, a dark cloud passing over his face.
Elizabeth backed two steps and stumbled, her stomach wrenching. It’s over.
27
Elizabeth burrowed under the quilt, tears wetting her cheeks. Her skin crawled, like each set of staring eyes still followed her every move. The massive stairway had felt like a mountain, but she’d fled past her family like they weren’t there. And Charles . . .
He hadn’t even turned to look.
Lord, I did all You asked. I worked, I taught, I behaved myself. Elizabeth’s stomach roiled. How many had overheard Mrs. Carver’s words?
She’d be forced out. Donaldina would have no choice—Elizabeth was a blight, unfit to lead young girls into lives of righteousness. Every word of praise the missionary had uttered turned to ash in Elizabeth’s mind.
Where would she go? Back home to Sacramento? There’d be no way to explain this humiliation to her mother. A throbbing pain settled deep in her core. She hadn’t even loved Tobias, but now she’d lost the man she did. She yanked the quilt away from her face, lungs desperate for oxygen.
A tap on the door sent her under the covers once more. Donaldina so soon?
Ruby’s voice reached her ears. “Elizabeth?” The door creaked, footsteps drawing close. The mattress shifted as her sister sat. “I don’t know what to say, honey.” She rubbed fingers down Elizabeth’s back.
Elizabeth hiccuped. “Say it didn’t happen. Tell me the entire room doesn’t know my disgrace.”
A quiet sigh cut through the air. “Perhaps not the entire room, but just about everybody who matters.”
“Wh-where is Charles?” Tremors started in Elizabeth’s midsection, radiating out to her arms and legs, as if she’d stepped outside in nothing but her drawers.
“I don’t know. He was right behind me when Mrs. Carver made her scene. And then . . .” She lowered her voice. “He was gone.”
Elizabeth’s sobs stilled. She pulled herself into a ball as if it could protect her from people’s gossip. “Robert?” She lowered the quilt in order to see Ruby’s face.
“He’s startled, of course.” Reddened lids framed her sister’s eyes. Her lip quivered. “And about ready to kill Tobias Carver.”
Elizabeth sat up, the quilt puddling around her waist. She’d not considered Tobias’s current role in this. “Is he still here?”
“Mr. Carver?” Ruby pursed her lips. “I imagine he’s made himself scarce. His wife’s behavior didn’t reflect well on him, either.”
“Somehow I don’t think it’s her behavior anyone is worried about.”
Lines deepened around Ruby’s mouth. “Come home with us, Elizabeth.”
Her stomach lurched as she sat up. “What would Gerald think? And his mother?”
“They’d think you’re the same woman you were yesterday and the day before that.” Ruby stroked her leg. “Scripture says, ‘For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.’ We’ve all made mistakes, Elizabeth. Gerald and I would no more turn our backs on you than we would on each other.”
“I wish everyone felt as you do. Charles will never speak to me again. He’s the one good thing to happen to me, and I’ve lost him.”
Ruby wrapped her arms around Elizabeth. “Give it time. There’s no saying how he will feel when the truth settles in.”
Elizabeth burrowed her head against her sister’s neck. “I know already. He told me once he could never love someone who gave her virtue away of her own accord.”
A quiet tap caught their attention. Donaldina stood in the doorway, her hand gripping the frame. “May I have a word?”
Ruby squeezed Elizabeth’s wrist. “I’ll be downstairs. The offer is open for tonight—and as long as you need.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth whispered the words, her throat closing at the sight of her friend and mentor.
Shadows gathered around Donaldina’s eyes.
Elizabeth swung her feet to the floor, the pillow crushed against her abdomen. Whatever Donaldina had to say, she deserved.
“I assume you’ve heard the woman’s accusations.”
Elizabeth lowered her head. “I didn’t need to hear. I lived them.”
Donaldina blew out a long exhale and sat down beside Elizabeth on the narrow bed. “You should hear them all the same, so you know exactly what you’re facing. She could be exaggerating.”
Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded.
“Mrs. Carver claims you were . . . intimate . . . with her husband. That you beguiled him.”
Elizabeth rocked in place, the statement sinking into her chest.
Donaldina rubbed trembling fingers across the bridge of her nose. “He was your teacher, yes?”
Pushing down the agony, Elizabeth nodded, again. “For three years.”
“Were you . . .” Donaldina closed her eyes, as if it would somehow protect her from the harshness of the words. “Were you together the whole time?”
“No.” Elizabeth choked out the word. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t . . .” But, she had. She brushed the tears away with the back of her fist. “I idolized him. I never thought . . .” She lifted the pillow as if to smother the sickening words.
“What happened?”
“When I started performing, he grew sullen. Possessive.”
Donaldina pressed her shoulders back. “Perhaps your success made him feel threatened.”
“I don’t know why it would.”
The missionary traced the quilt pattern with one finger. “You were attaining your dreams. You no longer needed him as desperately.”
Elizabeth thought back, her mind a blur of images she’d tried to bury. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She shook her head. “But that’s when he came to me, and . . . he made the first overture.” The odd word rankled in Elizabeth’s mind, like the horrific experience had been a concert to be enjoyed. She shook her head, searching for a better description. “He demanded—orchestrated . . . everything.”
Donaldina lifted her hands. “I’m not sure I need any more detail. I see where we’re headed.”
Elizabeth lowered her gaze, resisting the urge to duck back under the quilt. Seeing her mentor’s face clouded with grief pierced her through.
“What made you leave?”
“I hated what I’d become. I knew my father would’ve . . .” her throat closed around the word. She swallowed and began anew. “Papa would’ve been crushed. It was always his dream for me to perform on the stage. I continued playing concerts, but my heart was no longer in it. It was no longer anywhere.”
Elizabeth paused, sifting through the memories. “I told Tobias I couldn’t work with him, or see him, anymore.” She closed her eyes. “He said if I dared to perform without him, he’d see me exposed.”
Donaldina rose from the bed and paced a circuit around the small room. “And then you came here?”
Elizabeth moistened her lips. “You said this was a place of new beginnings. A home where girls with the most soiled pasts could find new life.” She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. Elizabeth lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I wanted that.”
The missionary ha
lted, staring down at her. “Do you still?”
“With all my heart. I came here to offer my life back to God—if He’d have it. To make up for what I’d done.” She drew her shoulders inward. “And now all my effort is for naught.”
Donaldina sat down, the mattress springs squeaking. “Child, if you think you’re to work off your sin, you’ve missed the point of the gospel. The new life comes free of charge. Nothing you do could ever earn you God’s love.”
“I don’t deserve His love.”
“None of us do, I’m afraid. That’s why Christ went to the cross—to pay for our mistakes, so we could be washed clean. It’s grace, nothing less.”
The throbbing pain in Elizabeth’s head scrambled her friend’s words. “It doesn’t matter now. Everything I’ve worked toward—the girls, the musicale—everything. No one will care. They’ll only see what I did before.” She glanced toward her trunk. “I’ll need to pack my things.”
Donaldina frowned. “You’re not going anywhere just yet. We need to work some things out, first.”
“But, Mrs. Byrd . . .”
“Mrs. Byrd demanded your resignation, but I’m not prepared to accept it. I want to pray about the situation, and she agreed to do the same.” Donaldina patted Elizabeth’s knee. “You pray as well, child. Think about what I’ve said. New beginnings are not earned, they’re granted.” She sighed. “The board meets in three days. You’ll have your decision then.”
“Three days?” Elizabeth balled her hands in the quilt. Why wait? There was no way they’d choose to keep someone like her.
“The good Lord took three days in the grave, I think you can handle three days with us.”
“If you think it best.”
“I do. We need time to wait upon His wisdom.” Donaldina stood with a sigh. “Now, Ah Cheng is asking for you. Will you go see her?”
Elizabeth retrieved a handkerchief from her bureau. “Of course.” At least the younger children wouldn’t understand her shame.
***
In the darkness of the Mission Home’s dining room, Charles leaned against the wooden piano and ran his fingertip across the chipped keys. Somehow Elizabeth and Yoke Soo coaxed beautiful music from the unsuitable instrument.
Through the Shadows Page 25