Though he wanted to bound into the house and call out her name, he took care he didn’t fall, placing each foot firmly and using the cane for added support.
After negotiating the steps and porch without incident, he stepped into the foyer and shook off the snow. Lights glowed through the library doorway. Anna wouldn’t be in the library at this hour. He peeled off his gloves and hat and then strode down the hall while unbuttoning his coat.
“Anna?” He poked his head into the room.
“Welcome home, brother.” Reggie sat at Brandon’s desk, feet propped on top.
Brandon wanted to wipe the smirk off his kid brother’s face. “I thought you were dining with Miss Neidecker.” He tossed his coat on the sofa.
Reggie whipped his feet off the desk. “I have more important business. Have a seat.”
What impertinence. “May I remind you that you are in my chair?”
Reggie shrugged and vacated the desk. “I didn’t realize that you were quite so attached to the furniture.”
“It’s a matter of principle, which you apparently don’t have.”
As always, the correction slipped off Reggie like rainwater off a roof. His brother absently ran a finger along the polished desktop, as if testing for dust. Finding none, he flopped onto the nearest chair.
“I have a bit of news.”
Brandon reclaimed his desk. “The dean has reinstated you?”
Reggie waved a hand as if expulsion from college didn’t matter. “More important news, something you’ll find—shall we say—intriguing?”
Brandon gripped the arms of his chair, his good mood gone. “If it’s not about college, then what?”
“That’s what I love about you, brother. You’re always direct. Rather a bottom-line sort of fellow.”
Brandon glanced at the clock. If supper was simple, Anna would be finishing soon, and he’d miss her. “Time is valuable. Get to the point.”
Reggie stroked the velvet-covered arm of the chair. “I believe we are not the only ones searching for the lost Landers fortune.”
Brandon clenched his jaw. “There is no lost fortune. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Suppose you’re wrong? I’ve been reading about the excavation in Egypt that has so captured your little Anna’s imagination. Suppose Carter had agreed with everyone else and declared the Valley of the Kings tapped out?”
Little Anna? Brandon wanted to castigate his brother for those derogatory words. Anna was much more than the servant Reggie made her out to be, but arguing about Anna would only egg on his brother and do nothing to stop his infatuation with that vile lost fortune.
“The two situations have nothing to do with each other,” he said as evenly as he could. “Even if money had been hidden away in the 1850s, it would most likely be state banknotes, which are worthless.”
“It could be gold.” Reggie drew a cigarette from his silver case.
“No smoking in this house.”
Reggie ignored him and lit the disgusting thing. “Aren’t you the least bit intrigued? The Brandon I knew would have leaped at the chance for adventure. You were the one who left Father hopping mad so you could become a journalist. Oh, he nearly burst a vein over that one.”
“Your point?” Brandon tried to ignore the smoke.
Reggie tapped the ash into a tumbler that had undoubtedly contained brandy until recently. “My point is that if we don’t find the fortune first—worthless or not—someone else will.”
“Let him have it.”
“You wouldn’t think that if it was gold. I’ve seen your bookstore. A little capital wouldn’t hurt either of us.”
Brandon couldn’t deny that, but neither could he place his faith on rumor. Or on the questions that finding such a cache might generate. From what he’d discovered, the family fortune had been made off the most despicable activities, which he hoped would stay hidden forever.
Reggie hopped to his feet and began pacing. “If she gets to the money first, we’ll lose it.”
“She? Your treasure hunter is a woman? Who? Miss Neidecker?”
“Sally?” Reggie laughed. “Certainly not. Ask yourself who has access to this house every day.”
His words shot through Brandon’s spine like a bullet from a German rifle. “You don’t mean Anna.”
Reggie snuffed his cigarette in the tumbler, leaving behind an ugly butt. “Who else?”
“She wouldn’t,” he protested, while recalling that she had wanted to do exactly that. But he’d told her there was no hidden fortune, had insisted she not search. She wouldn’t go behind his back, would she?
Reggie leaned over the desk, both palms planted on the edge so he towered over Brandon. “I got suspicious when I saw some books out of place.”
“She may read anything she wishes,” Brandon snapped.
Reggie didn’t budge. “As I said, I got suspicious, so I rigged a little test. I left a book on the desk with a mark in the margin referring her to another book in your library. Inside that book I tucked a little newspaper article that would interest her a great deal. Then I pretended to leave the house for the day.”
“Pretended?” Brandon felt sicker and sicker with every word. “You trapped her?”
“I watched her from the room across the hall. You remember that knothole that slips out, how we would look through it at Father when he was raging at that Simmons fellow in the library?”
The memory came back in a rush. Father yelling at the man who must have been Anna’s father. The man twisting his cap in his hands, promising better returns. Father demanding a greater percentage of the business. The man signing papers.
Brandon choked back the bile.
“Well, I slipped out the knot and watched her at work,” Reggie continued. “She took the bait and did exactly what I thought she’d do.”
Brandon shook with anger. “How dare you.”
Reggie was unfazed. “I knew she’d hoodwinked you, but I didn’t realize you were quite that bad off.”
Brandon stormed to his feet, pushing his chair over in the process. “Don’t you ever slander Anna Simmons. She hasn’t a wicked thought in her.” He poked a finger at Reggie. “She’s not the one who runs through money. She hasn’t failed at everything she tries. She’s good and honest and the best person I have ever known.”
Reggie stared at him, silent for long moments. “Then you have fallen for her.”
Brandon picked his way around the desk, so furious that he could not account for his actions if he got hold of his brother. He couldn’t let Reggie spread these abominable rumors about Anna. “She would never do anything behind my back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.
“Then check her apron pocket.” Reggie glanced at the window. “I see she’s leaving now. If you hurry, you might catch her.”
“I will not check her apron,” Brandon growled. “I trust her, which is more than I can say for you.”
“Very well.” Reggie headed for the door but, just before exiting, turned for one last word. “The newspaper article Anna found is the one that tells what happened to your platoon in France.”
Brandon’s legs went numb even as his anger exploded. Reggie had given Anna that story? Of all the cruel, heartless acts.
“Get out,” he growled, his blood pulsing hot.
“I am sorry.” Reggie managed to feign regret. “I’d hoped I was wrong.”
Brandon turned away from his brother, unable to look the traitor in the eye a moment longer. Reggie must have hesitated, for a half minute passed before his footsteps echoed down the hall. No attempt to explain. No pleading for forgiveness. Not another word. Nothing could have stemmed Brandon’s ire anyway, but he didn’t experie
nce the expected relief when he heard the front door open and close.
The deed had been done. After Anna read that article, she’d learn he was worse than a failure. She’d discover he was a murderer.
* * *
Anna turned the chair by the fireplace until it faced her mother and then sat.
Ma paused in her knitting, the ever-present smile upon her face. “Now tell me why you’re back so early...and why you look so worried.”
Anna took a deep breath. In the past two months, Brandon had spent many hours chatting with Ma. Perhaps he’d told her what had happened. “I found an old newspaper clipping today, from 1918, before the war ended.”
Ma waited.
“It’s about Brandon’s unit. He was apparently a lieutenant and commanded a group of men.”
“I see.” She returned to her knitting. The deep blue strands looked like veins across her pale hands.
Anna leaned forward. “Did he tell you about the war? Did he explain what happened? How he ended up lame?”
Ma shook her head. “I’d think he’d be more likely to tell you than me.”
Anna fought disappointment. “I thought you talked about everything.”
“I let him guide the conversation.” Ma finished the row before pausing. “The war never came up.”
Anna blew out in frustration. Ma never stuck to the subject at hand. Why did she this time? “He said he was wounded in the war. The newspaper article said the unit was hit by heavy artillery. Did you know all his men died?”
“I suspected it. Something has been troubling him.” She shook her head. “Poor man. That’s a heavy load to bear without God’s grace.”
Ma’s words touched her deeply. What if Brandon never returned to the Lord? “I want to help him, but he won’t listen.”
“Sometimes we must wait until people are ready.”
“What if he’s never ready? What if...?” She couldn’t utter the unthinkable. What if he never recovered? What if he sank so far into darkness that he never came back? Unshed tears burned her eyes. Life without Brandon would be worse than empty and meaningless. She jumped to her feet and paced across the tiny room. “I have to do something.”
“Then pray.”
Anna groaned. “I do pray, but it’s not helping. He’s getting more and more anxious by the day. I can’t just sit around waiting when I know what’s bothering him. I have to help him. I have to do something. After all, words without actions are useless.”
Thankfully, Ma didn’t correct the poorly paraphrased scripture. “What do you propose?”
“I need to talk to him, tell him that I know what happened.”
“Do you think that’s wise? What if he gets angry?”
“He wouldn’t.” But Ma might be right. Brandon was a prideful man. He’d insisted she not search for the lost fortune, even when it could solve his problems. He’d exploded when he saw her looking at his ledger.
“Are you willing to lose him in order to help him?” Ma asked calmly.
Anna’s eyes burned with determination. “I am.” She swiped away the moisture. “I’ll do anything, even give up my dreams.”
“Then you do love him. Sometimes love requires letting go of those we love.”
“Like Papa?” Memories of her father’s death rushed back with so much pain that she had to sit or her legs would collapse. She’d hidden in the tires, afraid to go to him. She’d let him die, alone. A sob fought its way up her throat, and no matter how hard she tried, it refused to be bottled up. “Like when Papa died.” The words came out with a storm of tears. “Oh, Ma, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The last words wrenched out of her in convulsions that got even worse when Ma gathered her close.
“Hush, hush,” Ma whispered. “It’s all right.”
But it wasn’t and never would be until Anna confessed. Every inch of her quaked with fear. Ma had always given her whatever she wanted. She’d made Anna feel special, even though she had so much less than the other girls. What would she think when she learned what Anna had done? No small part of her wanted to continue soaking up Ma’s love, but deep down she knew she must do what was right.
“No, Ma, it’s not all right.” She gathered what little courage remained. “There’s something I need to tell you.” She took a deep breath when she saw Ma’s motherly concern, as if she expected a childish, trivial confession. This would hurt, but the truth must come out. “I saw Papa die.”
“Oh, child.” Ma gasped. A hand shot to her mouth. “You should have told me. How you must have suffered all these years. Dear Anna, say no more.”
“No, Ma. I have to finish. I’ve been holding this in for far too long, and now I realize that I can never be what Brandon needs me to be until I own up to my mistakes.”
Ma paled, sensing the solemnity of what Anna was about to say.
Blurting it out might be easiest but not fair to Ma, so she took the time to tell the whole story. “I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. I skipped school with—” For a moment she considered naming Sally Neidecker and her friends, but it didn’t matter who had talked her into it. She’d made the decision. “I wanted to see the circus, but when we got there, I didn’t have enough money to get in.” She bowed her head, still ashamed of her actions. “I couldn’t go back to school, and I couldn’t go home, so I hid in the tires alongside the garage and waited for school to get out.”
“Then you were there when the truck fell on your father,” Ma whispered, barely audible.
Anna’s throat had constricted so much that she could only nod for a second. She swallowed, trying to free up the words. “I—I—I saw the jack collapse. It fell so slowly.” Her lips were quivering. “I could have gone to him.”
“No, child, you couldn’t.”
Anna angrily swiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “Yes, I could have. I had time, but I just stood there, too afraid to do anything.” She choked. “And he died.” She sobbed. “He died. And I could have helped him. Oh, Mama, why? Why? Why couldn’t I move? I loved him. I did. I did.”
“Oh, dearest.” Ma drew her close and kissed the top of her head. “I know you did. He knew you did.” She held Anna’s face in her hands. “Never, ever doubt that your papa knew you loved him. You were his little girl, his joy. You were everything to him. You are his legacy. Never forget that.”
The pain that had been held in for so long finally came out, but it hurt. Oh, how it hurt, like knives slashing bone from bone. The good daughter that she had tried so hard to become was gone. In its place sat a broken, imperfect human being that didn’t deserve the encouragements Ma was showering on her.
“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” she blubbered over and over.
“That’s all right.” Ma patted her back as if she were seven years old again. “Let it all out. Only then can God work His healing.”
Ma handed Anna a handkerchief—Brandon’s, the one he’d given her that day in the kitchen. She must have left it here in the carriage house. The embroidered initials slipped beneath her fingertips. She couldn’t use it. “Aren’t you upset with me?”
“No, child. I wish you’d told me years ago so you wouldn’t have had to carry this burden. It happened in the past. What counts is the future. Will you let God heal your hurting heart, or will you carry this pain with you the rest of your life?”
Anna had never boiled it down to such a simple decision. She pressed the monogram against her palm. “I want to be healed.”
“Then let Him do the work. Tell Him what you told me and ask forgiveness. Then let go.” Ma squeezed her hand. “It’s the only way.”
“I know,” Anna whispered.
“It’s the only way for Brandon too.” Ma tucked a lock of hair behind Anna’s ear. “Each of us must find our own way to forgiveness. For some, forgiveness is difficult to accept. I suspect
it will be for him. He’s carried the burden so long that he doesn’t know how to set it down. Pray he won’t wait as long as you did. Pray hard that God will heal his heart.”
Ma was right. Some things only God could heal but, oh, how it hurt.
Chapter Twenty
Brandon paced the library. At each turn, he stalked to the window, where he could just make out the lights in the carriage house through the densely falling snow. Then he strode to the doorway and grasped the knob before letting go and returning to the window. Every circuit brought another conflicting thought.
Anna had devoured the archaeology books and articles he’d given her, but was her interest strictly academic? She’d harped on the rumored lost fortune, even after he’d told her it didn’t exist. He’d asked her not to search for it, yet according to Reggie, she was still looking. Moreover, she hadn’t told him what she was doing. That could mean only one thing—she intended to take anything she found.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, which only got worse when he took into account that she must have read the article on his military disaster by now. She would despise him, just like Father had despised him. Worthless. Coward. Father’s words still rang in his ears.
When his father died, Brandon expected nothing. Then MacKenzie informed him that he’d inherited the house. The boon soon turned sour. This house had sucked the life out of him, the way it had destroyed his father and the generations before him. All corrupt. All consumed by the love of money. He wanted nothing to do with it.
He’d hoped for a quiet life, but when he met Anna, that dream altered. She brought sunshine into the darkest day. Her lively curiosity made him want to reach for more, to cast aside the chains and step forth in courage. She’d made him a better man, but apparently her attentions had been a sham, and he’d nearly fallen for it. She was no better than the rest.
This time when he reached the door, he opened it. He would have this out once and for all. He pulled on his coat and shoved a hat on his head. Without bothering to don gloves, he stormed out of the house and headed down the hill to the carriage house.
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