“Your attention, please,” Pierce announced from the platform. “Bidding will now begin for the remaining name spaces on the Bright Hope Orphanage Monument. To encourage your donations, Mr. Harrison has agreed to match all funds up to fifty thousand dollars.”
Between rounds of applause, the audience peppered the auctioneer with bids.
Woody’s heart dropped, then rivaled the fireworks Pierce had ordered for the evening’s finale. He exploded into action, meeting his friend coming off the stage. “You know I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I do.” Father emerged from the crowd.
With a clap on Woody’s back, Pierce exited.
“Father, what are you doing here?” Dumbfounded, Woody stared at the man whose features so closely resembled his own. “What changed your mind? And … thank you.”
“Thank Franklin Pierce.” Father led them to the room’s edge. “When I heard you were to be guest of honor for this charity ball, I thought it a mockery. I called on Pierce and demanded a reason. His explanation, your persistent visits, and the fact you never turned vindictive when I refused your request for orphanage funds … Those are the reasons I’m here. Pierce relayed how you’d changed. Something of a religious nature, I believe? I’d like to hear more. For now … I think you ought to know your mother is here, too.”
Though English, the words were difficult to comprehend. Could she finally forgive him … and he her? Woody spread his hand against his vest. “And?”
“All is not as it seems with her. She lost her brothers in the War.” Father touched his limp sleeve. “And part of her husband. She also … lost several children before she birthed you.
“During your growing-up years, she was protecting you, in her own way.” He motioned to where Mother stood aloof from a group of women. “Everyone bears a burden. Some are just more visible than others.”
Woody studied his mother’s proud posture. Yes, she’d been hard, cruel. But had he judged her heartless when she was only reacting to pain? “I had no idea. I’ll talk to her before the night’s over.”
“I can’t say whether she’ll receive you.”
After a moment, Woody nodded. “That’s fine.”
Father’s meaty hand clasped his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Son. You’ve got a place in the railroad business anytime you want. Oh, and the shares in your name … I never changed them. They’re yours.”
Woody’s head came up. At the kindness in his father’s eyes, the approval he’d craved for years, his limbs began to shake. He’d prayed, but never dreamed … Why was he surprised when God came through for him?
“Thank you.” His voice closed off, so he tried again. “Thank you, sir.”
“Seems there’s a young lady to whom you’d like to tell the news.” Father nodded across the room to where Ella watched the bidding, hands clasped at her bosom.
“Go on, now. Don’t forget I want to meet her soon.” With one last shoulder squeeze, Father left.
Exhaling disbelief and gratitude in the same breath, Woody crossed the ballroom toward the object of his affection, a beautiful vision in a blush-pink gown, the style of which he couldn’t begin to name.
How would she react to the news? If she let him, he’d give her the world, whether she loved him or not. A man who’d lost his heart couldn’t be choosy.
The crowd moved to obscure her, and he wove his way through. The grand ballroom was perfect for proposing. Perhaps for announcing their engagement as well, once she met his parents.
If she said yes.
God, grant me the right words this time.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Ella turned to find Jamieson Leech serving himself a glass of punch. Why was he here? Not to get back at Woody, she hoped. Whatever the reason, Leech’s presence would save her a trip to break things off with him. She began her rehearsed English speech. “Mr. Leech, I must apologize. I’ve—”
“Mr. Leech?” He chuckled. “I thought we had an understanding.”
“This is what I am try to tell you. I only court you for your money. I’m sorry.”
Leech shrugged and looked her over while taking a sip. “Then marry me.”
Ella’s brows sank in a scowl. Was the man obtuse?
“I’m rich.” He continued to leer. “I’ve got what you want … and you’ve got what I want.”
Engulfed in hot indignation, she spun and started toward the tall French doors leading to the veranda. She needed some air. Very cool, very breezy, and very quick. Lest she do something rash and jeopardize the whole night—like empty the punch bowl on him.
He caught her hand. “Sweetheart, it’s obvious we belong together.”
Forcing a smile so as not to cause a scene, she pried her hand from his. Her anger made translating to English difficult. “Mister Leech, I cannot do this ‘understanding.’ I am no longer needing for to marry money. No…. I will follow God. He will guide for who I marry. Not you. Not me. If you come to this ball only for to proposing to me, you should be leaving. Goodnight, sir!”
“Listen, doll …” He grabbed her arm. Icy shivers chilled her spine.
Woody clamped the back of Leech’s neck. “You’ve worn out your welcome, old pal. Don’t force me to toss you out.”
When released, the vulture ground his jaw and left with his coattails flapping, the crowd parting to let him pass.
Woody brushed her arm and led her toward the French doors. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Ella regained her breath, but her heart still thrummed—what if she’d married that scoundrel? Good riddance. Ella touched her lips, suppressing sudden mirth before lapsing into Polski. “Ooh, Woody, that was magnificent.”
Straightening his lapels over the tall, confident frame Ella had come to love, he stepped close, eyes turning to molten chocolate while his mussed hair begged her smoothing touch. “Funny, I was thinking the same of a beautiful woman I know. First with the choir—very sneaky, by the way—then with telling off Leech … Did you mean what you told him?” His warm regard soothed her frazzled nerves.
“Every word. I’m trusting God to make a way for my family while I pray daily.”
“Let me pay their way to America.”
She shook her head. “I can’t accept what will take years for you to earn. I know you don’t have the money—”
“I do now.” The joy defining his eyes and cheekbones thickened her pulse.
“Woody, what are you saying?”
“Because of what you’ve done to make tonight possible, my father has welcomed me back to the family business.”
“I don’t understand.” She placed a hand to her bosom, afraid to hope.
“We can build ten orphanages if you want. And have your family here within the year.”
Her mouth fell open, and breathing became difficult. But … she’d turned him down. How could he be willing to—
“Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, “and I’m going to kiss you in front of all these people.”
With a shocked laugh, she covered her scalding cheeks, but when he took her gloved hands in his, her heart responded to everything his eyes promised.
“Ella … I never thought I’d open my heart to love like this. Then I met you. Never dreamed I’d find someone who loves the kids like you do. You’ve challenged me to reach beyond myself to do what’s best for the boys—and girls. And you encouraged me to repair the breach in my family, which in turn healed me of a deep wound.” Woody kneaded her palms and leaned in, like he’d lost something precious in her gaze. “I love you, Ella. Your honesty and compassion have completely captured my affections … Plus, you’re the most beautiful woman in this room, and I feel privileged you’ve put up with me this long. So please, when I ask to fund your family’s trip to America, let me?”
Tears spilling down her cheeks by now, she laughed. “I love you, too, Woody. But I vow I’ll earn the money myself unless you say you want to marry me.”
A slow smile. “Ma
rry me, darling. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
“Yes,” she sighed.
Gathering her against his chest, Woody rested his cheek atop her head, his warmth overwhelming her. A lump rose in her throat as she hugged him back. How wonderful, the first time she’d been held after months without hugs from her family. Did he know what he was doing to her heart? “Oh, love, thank you.” She melted into his embrace.
The orchestra quieted in preparation for the first dance, signaling Woody’s duty as guest of honor to take a turn with the most prominent ladies attending. Oh, bother.
He eased back, smile twitching. “You know, that was the most beautiful proposal I’ve ever received from a lady.”
Her ears caught fire.
Quick as a candle’s flicker, he swooped in for a soft peck on her lips. Gasping, she swayed toward him and caught a hint of lemon drops, but he gently set her back. “I’ve got to go, but this conversation’s nowhere near finished.”
The diverted glances he sent her way as he gained the front of the ballroom promised a proper engagement kiss would be hers before the night’s end.
A bit disappointed he didn’t ask her for the first dance, Ella gathered her heavy skirts and edged toward the refreshment table where Musty and Shoe Shine drained their punch cups, sandwiches in their free hands. Hadn’t she told them to remain in the playroom with the games and snacks she’d prepared? They’d develop stomachaches if they kept this up.
Murmurs drew her gaze to where Woody stood before his mother, expression shielded. Ella’s breath stagnated in her lungs while Mrs. Harrison stared back, spine rigid.
If he’d wanted an opportunity to humiliate his mother for years of neglect and ill will, this was it.
After a slight hesitation, he lifted his chin and extended a gloved hand.
Ella’s heart swelled nigh to painful. Oh, that man. She laced her gloved fingers together and felt pressure from her left ring finger. Flipping her palm, she caught a silver glimmer. Two hands holding a crowned heart.
“Woody,” she breathed, flicking the moisture from her tear-blurred eyes. Stealthy as a pickpocket, he must have slipped it on her finger while holding her hands.
What had it cost him to give her such a dear piece of his past?
She made a fist and cradled the treasure against her chest. You knew all along, didn’t You, Lord? You sent Woody, not only to look after me but after my heart as well.
After several aching moments, Mrs. Harrison glanced about, then slipped her hand into Woody’s grasp. He made a broad, dashing figure as he drew her into his arms for a waltz. All eyes followed their whirling figures, the unheard exchange of mother and son softening their features from hesitant to hopeful.
Ella thumbed his ring—her ring. Had this New York prince just proposed to her, a humble Polish farm girl, or was she dreaming?
That kiss, though … Tender, but powerful. Not a dream.
Woody, her Woody, who loved street kids and peach pies and maps and tea, who lived and breathed languages and boxing and compulsive organizing—now a millionaire, wanted to share his life with her, his aspirations, his possessions … and the greatest prize of all, his heart.
Epilogue
Kiss me like you did the night we became engaged.”
In the downstairs parlor of the orphanage, Woody grinned at his wife’s heavy Polish accent and settled her more securely on his knee. In the eight months since their engagement and seven months since they married, she’d requested he do this twenty times at least.
Maybe thirty. “You never tire of that, do you?”
She touched her nose to his. “Mmm.”
Good. Neither did he.
And right now, he’d do whatever it took to keep her distracted until her family arrived—a surprise he’d hidden for weeks now. Not the fact they were coming to America, but that they would land today, in time to celebrate her birthday tomorrow.
“Well, all right, then. I had no idea I made such an impression.” He swooped in for a quick peck on the lips.
Rolling those vibrant eyes, she crossed her arms, a delicious pink stealing over her neck and face.
He bit his lip and tried to appear innocent. “What?”
“You know that’s not the one I meant.”
“Yes, but now you’re blushing like you did the moment I took you in my arms under the fireworks.” So what if his smile was smug—he couldn’t help it. She was too beautiful tinted red not to tease her once in a while. “The moment wouldn’t be the same without it. Careful, darlin’, if your chin rises anymore I fear it’ll hit the ceiling.”
With a glare, she edged her lovely pregnant bulk off his lap. “If I blushed it was because the boys were staring from the ballroom, watching us.”
He gathered her right back, resting his palm over the side where his son or daughter always kicked. God, I’m a blessed man. Thank You. “Mmm—no, sweetheart. I faced the ballroom, remember? I clued you in on the boys’ watching after I finished kissing you.”
She squinted, then nibbled her lip. “Really?”
His smile stretched wide, the heel of his hand absently kneading her back muscles. If he’d known how adorably forgetful she’d be with this pregnancy, he’d have told her much earlier how he’d sent for her family. Each morning she woke to the remembrance—she even had to reorient herself after naps—they got to celebrate all over again.
One thing she’d likely never forget was her reunion with Ina. The girl’s ship had docked for repairs, hence her late arrival. Ina took to Freckles, Newsie, Shoe Shine, and Musty right off. Now she and the foursome waited in the foyer, watching for the carriage he’d sent for her parents. His parents agreed to come, too, but Mother begged off until tomorrow. He’d make their relationship better, if it took him the rest of his life.
Now where was he? Oh yes, the boys.
“Yes,” he said. “So I think you first blushed simply because my nearness makes you weak.” This he whispered against her neck, unable to keep his lips away—or the husky laughter from his voice. What flowery perfume was this?
“Nonsense.” Her breathless laughter belied her words.
“Then why did you blush when our gazes first met with no one else watching?”
She drew back. “Because you’d run me over with your wagon and I was embarrassed from falling on my face.”
He frowned. “That’s not when our eyes first met.”
“It’s not?” Her brows dipped.
“No …” He patiently recounted how he’d noticed her long before the wagon incident and couldn’t wait to find a reason to talk to her.
“Oh, Woody.” She leaned in, and he closed his eyes.
“Woody?” Couldn’t the man remember anything?
His eyes peeped open in the most adorably sheepish way. “I thought you were about to kiss me,” he confessed.
Ella chuckled. “No, you were going to kiss me.”
“Oh?” The backs of his fingers stroked her lips. “Yes. I was, wasn’t I?” Gifting her with his softest smile, the handsome young orphanage master gathered her close—their child nestled between them—and directed his beautiful brown gaze to hers, the intense possessive gleam there setting her pulse to jumping. Sliding his thumbs to her temples, he angled her face, kissing first the right corner of her mouth, then the left. With a sigh, he murmured in Polski, “I love you, Marcella Elena Lipski Harrison, with all that’s in me.”
Her eyes moistened, and her heart smiled, but she refused to let pregnancy tears ruin this moment. “I love you, too, Elwood Joseph Harrison,” she whispered. “For richer or poorer …” At her words, he claimed her lips, the scrape of his whiskers drawing her fingertips to the soft hair at his temples, his breath bringing the familiar smell of leather and lemon and Woody. He smelled like home. She sighed and burrowed her hand into his hair. His heart thundering under her other palm, Woody tightened his hold and deepened his kiss while he plucked the pins from her hair. After eight months of marriage, the ch
erished feeling of being held in her husband’s arms still overwhelmed her with newness.
“Oh!” Ina stood in the doorway, then turned around.
Ella startled, then stared at Woody. His dark locks jutted every which way, and hers, freed from its pins, now pooled at her collarbone. She tucked her brow against his shoulder to hide a giggle—and her hot face. Between selling the livery and getting the children and employees settled at the new orphanage, she suffered a twinge of jealousy at having to share her husband all the time.
“Remind me”—his words rustled against ear—“to tell my contractor to hurry up and add our wing to the orphanage.”
Before Ella could ask what Ina needed, the doorbell rang, and the girl ran to answer.
Ella hopped off Woody’s lap—something she hadn’t thought possible in her current walrus phase—and began fixing her hair. Woody ran his right hand over his own hair, then his left—she loved when he did that—then commenced brushing the wrinkles from her dress. They possibly could’ve gone on like that for some time—wrinkles, wrinkles everywhere—but Steele appeared.
“Announcing Mr. and Mrs. Tabor, Mr. and Mrs. Lipski, and young master Lipski.”
“What?” Searching Woody’s innocent expression, then fixating on the empty doorway, Ella fought for each breath, her heartbeat thumping her ears. She flexed her fingers toward Woody’s hand and found him already reaching to take hers. Once again tears overtook her, but she didn’t stop them. Why try when she’d be drowning before the day’s end? “You arranged this didn’t you, so they’d arrive for my birthday?”
He simply pressed a kiss to her hair.
Her grip tightened. So long she’d waited—would have waited longer if not for him. She brought his wrist to her lips.
When little Feliks stepped into the archway, followed by Mama, Tata, Grandma, and Grandpa, Ella gave a cry and rushed into their circle of kisses and mingled tears. Then one by one she hugged them, Mama crowing as Ella’s belly impeded their embrace. When they calmed enough for Ella to remember, she crossed to where Woody stood back a respectful distance and took his hand to introduce him.
Of Rags and Riches Romance Collection Page 27