by Sally Laity
Beside him, Gabriella hunched deeper into the confining folds of patchwork squares, leftover sobs still racking her spindly form. She stared miserably in the direction of her shrouded feet but didn’t respond.
His own heart melting over their despair, Micah’s prayers turned to petitions for Eliza and Mrs. Harper, that the Lord would provide wisdom, grace, and fortitude beyond all their expectations.
When they finally neared the wide panorama of the Hudson, its waves sparkling up ahead, he turned the bay toward Harper House, circling around to the back door. He felt Gabriella brace herself as he drew to a stop. “We’re here, girls. Let me help you down.”
As if all the spirit had drained out of her, the six-year-old offered no resistance when Micah unwrapped the quilt and set her and her sister onto the ground. Then, tucking their bundle under one arm, he took their hands on either side of him and led them up the walk.
A tapered finger parted the curtain, and Eliza met his gaze with a tentative smile before opening the door. She stooped down to the level of the little newcomers, but wisely maintained her distance since the pair had been sleeping the only time she’d been in their presence. “Well, who have we here?”
“This is Gabriella Riccio,” he said, tipping his head first at one, then at the other, “and her sister, Rosa. Girls, I’d like you to meet Miss Eliza. She’ll be looking after you for a while.”
This time, the sad-eyed youngsters shrank imperceptibly back against Micah’s legs, Rosa’s inconsequential weight aggravating the knot which had already formed on his shin. He nudged them gently inside, two tiny hands tightening their grip on his.
“I hope those cookies are for us,” he said brightly, nodding toward the kitchen table, where a heaping plate of cookies and sliced apples sat next to a pitcher of milk. “That ride made us pretty hungry.” Bending over, he helped the two off with their threadbare coats.
Eliza smiled and hung the wraps on the wall pegs. “They sure are. Auntie Phoebe and I baked them while we were waiting for you.”
The young faces brightened a measure.
As if suddenly hearing her name, the older woman entered the kitchen, beaming from ear to ear. “Well, well, well. I see our visitors have arrived.”
“This is my aunt, children,” Eliza said. “You may call her Auntie Phoebe or Mrs. Harper, whichever you wish.”
But four yearning brown eyes were already devouring the treats in view.
“I’d say there are some hungry tummies around here,” Micah piped in. “Come to the table, girls.” He ushered them across the room, helping them onto chairs. Taking a seat next to Gabriella, while Eliza chose the one by Rosa, he bowed his head. “We thank You, dear Lord, for Miss Eliza and Aunt Phoebe’s kindness in providing some good food and a nice place for Gabriella and Rosa to stay. Please bless them all. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
The children crossed themselves and centered their attention on the fruit and cookies, while Mrs. Harper brought glasses to the table and filled them with milk.
Picking up the plate, Eliza removed a cookie and slice of apple for herself, then offered some to Rosa.
When the youngster shyly met her gaze and warm smile, she hesitantly took one of each, immediately biting a chunk of apple, and Eliza passed the dish to Gabriella.
“I’m going to have two of each,” came Micah’s loud whisper and conspiratorial wink from her other side. “You may, too, if you like.”
“Graci.” She sighed and helped herself, but snatched another cookie and apple slice for her sister before relinquishing the plate.
“Did you see any pretty sights on the drive?” Eliza asked between bites. “There are so many lovely decorations up for Christmas.”
Munching her cookie, Gabriella shook her head.
“Well, I sure did,” Micah said pleasantly. “But I think what the girls would really like to see is the nice bed where they’ll be sleeping later this evening.”
“D–dis’a where you live’a too?” Gabriella asked him, her voice wavering.
“No, but I come by quite often to see my friends, so I’ll be checking in on you and Rosa a lot.”
That seemed to pacify her for the moment.
Micah took that as an encouraging sign. At least there wouldn’t be another dreadful scene at bedtime—hopefully. He glanced at Eliza, awed by the love in those blue eyes as she gazed at the girls the Lord had sent her. Too bad Anabelle could never find it within herself to be that way, he thought with a bittersweet pang. But that was something he might as well accept.
Eliza looked up at him just then, nibbling her lower lip the way she did whenever she felt a little nervous. He grinned at her. The Lord knew what He was doing when He’d put thoughts of this undertaking into that pretty head. Micah had no doubt about that. And he knew somehow that it wouldn’t take Gabriella and Rosa long to settle in.
Too bad it couldn’t be forever.
eighteen
Eliza was extremely grateful that Micah hung around for awhile, chatting casually with her and Aunt Phoebe, including the children now and then in the conversation. Soon enough, the older woman heard a summons to go attend the shop. And by the time the rest had finished the refreshments, Gabriella seemed a little more at ease, if not thrilled about her fate. Rosa had yet to utter a word, but stared intently at Eliza with childlike candor. Eliza wondered if the sprite even knew how to talk.
As she watched the somber expressions on the youngsters gradually softening, she ventured a suggestion. “Would you like to go upstairs and see your room?”
The older one slid a furtive glance toward Micah, as if looking for his approval. . .or perhaps wondering if this was when he, too, would go away, leaving her and her sister with these near strangers.
“I say,” he answered, ruffling her dull, stringy curls, “that’s a wonderful idea.” Getting up, he swung Rosa up to perch on his shoulder and took Gabriella by the hand. “After you, Miss Eliza.”
The children’s looks of wonder at the rooms they passed on the way to the stairs were not lost on Eliza. She crossed her fingers as the small troupe marched up the steps and ap-proached the guest room.
“Well, here we are, angels,” Micah said, setting Rosa down and giving her a gentle nudge through the doorway.
“Iss everybody sleepa here?” Gabriella asked, rolling r’s in her musical accent. She moved to touch the fluffy counterpane.
“Only you and Rosa,” Eliza told her. “This is your bed. My room is just across the hall. I’ll show it to you after while.”
“Da door,” she said fearfully, “she will be closed?”
“No, sweetheart. We will leave it open, if that’s what you’d rather.”
During the exchange, her younger sister stuck to Micah like glue, until she spied two rag dolls occupying the rocking chair against the opposite wall. She swung her gaze up at the adults, then hesitantly inched toward the toys, as if expecting to be reprimanded at any moment.
Gabriella obviously knew better than to touch something so pretty. She just held her breath.
Eliza patted her shoulder. “Go right ahead, sweetheart. There’s a dolly for each of you.”
“For your very own,” Micah added emphatically. “To keep.”
The beginnings of a real smile tipped up the corners of her lips as she bolted toward the rocker and snatched up the one that wasn’t presently being crushed in her sibling’s arms. Both children sank to the floor cross-legged and cuddled their new treasures, Gabriella’s eyes aglow as she chattered unreservedly to her baby in her mother tongue.
Watching their sweet exuberance, Eliza grew misty-eyed, wishing Rosa, too, would open up. She felt Micah’s strong hand clamp onto her shoulder and give a light squeeze.
“So far, so good,” he said for her ears alone.
She only nodded.
Micah filled his lungs and strode slowly over to
join the girls. Squatting down between them, he drew them into a hug. “I would say these dollies are very happy to have two new friends to look after them and love them. Just like Miss Eliza and Auntie Phoebe want to love you and care for you.”
The little ones gazed trustingly up at him.
“But, I’m afraid it’s time for me to be going.”
Gabriella’s eyes welled. She swallowed in alarm. “You com’a back? See us?”
“I sure will, sweetheart. Bright and early tomorrow morning. We can eat breakfast together. Would you like that?”
“You take us backa home, den?”
He flicked an eloquent glance to Eliza, then looked again into the questioning brown eyes. “Sorry, pumpkin. You know Mrs. Garibaldi isn’t able to take care of you anymore. So Miss Eliza is gonna do that for awhile. But it’ll be all right; you’ll see.”
She thought for a second, then gave him a brave nod.
“Meanwhile, you just stay right here as long as you like and have a grand time playing with your dolls.”
“And I must go see if my aunt needs help with supper,” Eliza added. “I’ll come to get you when it’s ready.”
The little ones exchanged wary glances, but their grudging assent followed fairly quickly.
Eliza and Micah withdrew from the room and started downstairs again.
“Oh, I do hope they get by all right. There’s a long night ahead,” she said quietly, not wanting her uncertainties to spill over and affect the little ones.
Stopping as they reached the landing, Micah smiled gently. “They’ve had a pretty tough day. They should be tired early. You’ll do fine, believe me. Children can sense a welcoming spirit. In no time at all, you’ll have them both wrapped around your little finger.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know it for a fact. Besides, remember all the prayer that’s gone into this venture. The Lord is even more concerned about those two tiny fallen sparrows than we are.”
“I suppose. Ana was right; you do say the nicest things.” But watching his eyes cloud over momentarily, she regretted mentioning her friend’s name.
Emitting a weary breath, he finally gave her a half-smile, shrugging one shoulder as he did. “Well, it appears I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early, wasn’t it?” she added teasingly. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Hot.”
She rather liked the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, but was sure the static current she felt so often in his presence was a product of her vivid imagination. “Thank you, Micah. . .for everything.” With a last glance upstairs, she followed him to the kitchen and watched as he put on his coat and left. Then she let out the breath she’d been holding and went to start some water heating, hoping to persuade the girls to bathe before supper.
When she approached them and mentioned the idea, however, the mere suggestion made the pair skulk against one another and peer at her in disgust as they hugged their dolls tighter.
“We don’a wanna to,” Gabriella said, her bottom lip making an appearance as she stubbornly hiked her chin.
“Oh,” Eliza hedged, “what a shame. I was hoping you’d want to wear the pretty new nightgowns I bought you.” She crossed nonchalantly to the wardrobe and pulled out the soft, long flannel shifts trimmed with ribbon and lace, holding them aloft as she pretended to admire them. “But I know you wouldn’t want to spoil them by putting them on over your dirty hair. If you’d rather stay in your present things, that’s fine.” With an elaborate sigh, she folded the new purchases once more and started to put them back into the drawer.
Gabriella’s inner war was almost palpable. Her dark eyes made a once-over circuit of the soiled and patched dresses she and her little sister wore, both obvious hand-me-downs. She drew her lips inward and bit down on them in thought. A small grimace of defeat followed. “We go, eh?” she told her sister. “Take’a da batt.” And dutifully, the pair hopped up, trailing behind Eliza as she led them to the bathroom.
From the way they stared at the water closet in passing, it was easy to tell they’d never seen that particular sort of porcelain wonder before, but they quickly became enthralled by Eliza’s explanation of its function. And though wary, they even took cautious advantage of the thing. Anything to get the bath siege over and done with as quickly as possible.
Eliza tried not to show her alarm at the sight of their bony ribs and frail frames as she helped them climb into the clawfooted tub of warm water, but she soon had them washed. “My, you both have such curly hair,” she said, soaping Gabriella’s first. “So nice and thick, too. It’ll be really pretty with the ribbons I bought to match your nightgowns.”
“Dat’sa nice. We don’ haffa da ribbons,” the child admitted.
“Well, you do now. They’ll look so lovely against your shiny dark curls.” Shielding the little girl’s eyes with a folded washcloth, she dumped a pitcher of rinse water over her head to wash out the suds.
Gabriella sputtered and wrinkled her nose, but then giggled, which made tackling the same chore with Rosa a mite easier.
To Aunt Phoebe’s amazement, two shiny, fragrant little girls appeared at the supper table that night, beribboned, abundant curls spilling over the shoulders of their pristine night shifts, feet clad in soft house slippers. Shy smiles were coming with more frequency. And not long into the meal, so did the yawns.
Seeing that their meager appetites had been sated, Eliza ushered her charges back upstairs, visiting the water closet en route to their bed. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a chance to read a bedtime story to anybody,” Eliza commented, turning down the quilts so they could climb in. “I think we’ll have one every night you’re here.”
But before she even reached the midpoint in the account of Noah and the flood, both urchins nodded off. Gazing down at their sweet faces, so innocent in sleep, Eliza’s heart crimped. She’d wanted them to hear it all, wanted them to say their prayers afterward, wished they could be part of a whole, happy family again. But all she could do was make it part of her own daily petitions. Putting out the lamp, she paused in the doorway just to look at them for a moment, then went downstairs.
❧
Micah didn’t know what to expect when he arrived at Harper House first thing in the morning. The whole place a wreck? Eliza and Mrs. Harper still in their nightclothes, frazzled and in shock, with dark circles under their eyes? A repeat of yesterday’s wailing and flailing? Filling his lungs, he rapped on the back door.
“Oh, good morning,” Eliza said brightly, admitting him into a kitchen whose enticing smells related the presence of bacon and toasting bread. He heard eggs sizzling in the pan Mrs. Harper was attending on the coal stove and returned the grin she tossed him over her shoulder.
“So, I see you two survived the night,” he said casually, hanging his coat.
Eliza’s light laughed floated toward him as she set the table for five.
He had to ask. “You had no difficulties whatsoever?”
“Oh, a little crying in the middle of the night, by Rosa,” she admitted. “But I went into the room and rocked her for awhile, and she settled back down again. By the way, have you ever heard her talk?” She gestured for him to be seated.
He crossed to the table and tugged out the end chair, lowering himself to it as he shook his head. “I believe she was getting to be quite the little chatterbox until her mama passed away. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken a word since, unless it’s been to Gabriella out of anyone else’s hearing.”
“I wondered.”
“Are the girls awake?”
“Those two early birds?” Mrs. Harper chimed in. “They’ve been skipping up and down the stairs since dawn, the new dollies under their arms. They traipse through here every now and then.”
“But they’ve managed to keep out of mischief?”
Eliza set a cu
p and saucer before him, then put others out for her and her aunt. “It was part of yesterday’s Grand Tour, after you left. I showed them through the whole house, but advised them not to set foot in the gift shop or bother any of Auntie’s pretties. And they didn’t seem to mind. They had dolls and picture books. They play rather happily in their own room most of the time.”
“Well, well. That’s good to hear.” He took a minute to digest that information while Eliza poured fresh coffee into his cup and passed him the sugar and creamer.
“I believe everything’s ready,” Aunt Phoebe announced. “Ring the bell, dear.” At Micah’s surprised expression, she smiled. “Much more pleasant than for us to holler the length of this big house, don’t you think?”
No sooner did the tinkly sound fade, then the young charmers came running down the stairs and into the room.
“And who have we here?” he asked in surprise, taking in the brushed and gleaming hair, the dropped-waist dresses with sailor collars and broad sashes. White stockings covered their slim legs, ending in soft-soled house slippers.
Gabriella’s eyes flared in delight, and she ran to hug him, little Rosa a mere step or two behind. “We haffa da new dress. Ribbons.” Proudly she spun to display the maroon hair ornament that matched her burgundy dress, and her sister mimicked the action in her medium blue ensemble.
“And you look just beautiful.” Acknowledging the contrast between the sorry condition they’d been in when he’d first brought them and the spotless, stylish—and smiling—young lasses he saw before him, Micah had only the deepest appreciation for Eliza’s rapport with the little ones. Especially when Rosa gravitated to her for help onto a kitchen chair whose low seat had been boosted by the addition of pillows. What a change a loving home made. For certainly this was no less than that.
Since Eliza was otherwise occupied at the moment, he allowed his gaze to linger. Her long hair, instead of being in its loosely woven hair net, was tied at the nape of her slender neck with a velvet ribbon. . .a change he more than liked. Summery blue eyes met his just then, and she smiled. And he had to remind himself to breathe.