Rekindling Trust

by Sandra Ardoin

  “It’s quite all right, Edythe.” Looking not in the least bit wounded, Ansel said, “Forgive us for monopolizing the conversation with our talk of business. I understand how a woman’s mind might wander when faced with certain complex subjects.”

  Yes, blame it on the simplicity of a woman’s mind rather than a man’s penchant for boring supper topics.

  Regardless, guilt gnawed at her. “I’m sorry to learn of the deaths of your parents.”

  The two men shared a laugh. “Oh, I assure you, they are alive and well.”

  She dropped her fork, knocking one of the dreadful cauliflowers off the plate.

  “I told your father of the day we became separated during a trip to Chicago.” Ansel’s laugh said he forgave her. “Realizing you weren’t listening, your father couldn’t help teasing you.”

  Edythe glanced at the judge and puckered a brow at his smirk. Perhaps Barrett was right in saying Hayden Danby was evil. Her gaze slid to Ansel’s grinning face across the table from her. It left her equally unsure of his saintliness.

  “The rain has let up. Why don’t you show her your new house, Ansel? I’m sure she’ll find it charming.”

  She turned to their guest. “You bought a house?”

  His chest inflated like a balloon. “Yes. In fact, it’s near here. I’d be honored to show you.”

  At his eagerness, warning bells drowned out his final words. “It’s getting late, Ansel. Perhaps we could do it another time. I should say goodnight to the children.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll be back before they go to bed.” Her father rose from his place at the table.

  “Father, we wouldn’t want to find ourselves the subject of unwarranted gossip should Ansel and I enter his house without a chaperone.”

  Ansel’s enthusiasm fell. “Oh, yes. I hadn’t considered someone might misconstrue our visit.”

  “I see no impropriety in Ansel showing you the front exterior.”

  Edythe glanced at her father. Though she had no interest in furthering the banker’s hopes, what harm was there in letting him show her his new residence? The sooner she agreed, the sooner she would be rid of him for the evening.

  She dropped her napkin on the table and stood. “I suppose that would be fine.”

  They walked a mere two streets over, dodging puddles along the way. “When you said your new home was nearby, I didn’t imagine how close.”

  She stood at the edge of the walk and studied the two-story structure in the twilight. With embellished gables and a broad wraparound porch, it was nothing as elaborate or large as her father’s house, but spacious and welcoming nonetheless.

  “Naturally, it isn’t the same neighborhood. I’m not yet able to afford something on your street.”

  But he’d found something close enough to smell the wealth? Edythe chastised herself for her unkind thought. There was nothing wrong with ambition if applied in a moral and wise manner.

  “I happened to mention to Judge Danby that I was looking for a house, and he directed me here.”

  Of course, he did. Better to continue his reign over her family.

  Ansel turned toward her. “Do you like it, Edythe?”

  “You have good taste.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure what to do with it. I mean, numerical figures and loans are my strong point, not paint or wallpaper or knick-knacks.”

  “I’m sure whatever you do, it will be lovely.”

  “It needs a woman’s touch.”

  A pulsing ache began at the back of her head. A few weeks ago, she might have eventually seen him as a way to find freedom for herself and her children. After her time with Barrett this afternoon, that disgraceful notion was an impossibility. “You’ll find the right person to give it an interior beauty befitting the outside. Now, I really should go. It’s been a busy day.”

  With a last disenchanted glance at the house, Ansel took her arm. “I’ll walk you home.”

  She didn’t argue. Letting him escort her would prevent her father from questioning why she returned alone.

  EDYTHE KNOCKED ON BARRETT’S door. When she received no answer, she turned the knob and poked her head inside the house, hoping to see Mrs. Quincy. “Hello?”

  Hearing muffled voices coming from behind the closed door of his office, she stepped into the foyer and paused. Even if she must wait in the drawing room for an hour, she had to see Barrett and convince herself their time in the country had been no dream.

  The door to Barrett’s office opened and Mrs. Quincy’s voice drifted into the hallway. “You’ll find the man who really murdered Mr. Dulong, Mr. Seaton. I know you will. My husband doesn’t deserve to be punished for something he didn’t do.”

  “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Quincy.”

  It was too late to duck into the drawing room and let them have their privacy, so Edythe opened her mouth to make her presence known, but the housekeeper wasn’t through. “I can’t tell you how much Jeremiah and me appreciate your help. You, too, Mr. Gregory.”

  Gregory? The only Gregory she knew was Claire’s fiancé, but he was an architect. What had he to do with finding a murderer, and how dangerous was that for both men?

  “Jeremiah is no killer.” Mrs. Quincy’s voice trembled. “He’s a good man.”

  Jeremiah Quincy. Edythe had heard the name of the housekeeper’s husband once before, but where?

  Ah, yes. Somewhere in the lengthy conversation she’d tried to ignore last Monday, her father and Ansel spoke of a man charged with murdering someone. Without naming the lawyer, her father mentioned that Jeremiah Quincy had hired a fool for an attorney. Every muscle along Edythe’s spine stiffened. Naturally he would say that, since that lawyer must be Barrett.

  Edythe tapped on the front door, announcing her presence.

  The housekeeper jumped and peered at Edythe with glossy eyes. She turned back to the office. “Mrs. Westin is here, sir.”

  After a pause and a rumbling, unintelligible mumble, Barrett called out, “Come in, Edy.”

  Edythe stopped at the door of his office, hesitant to enter the room and disturb Barrett’s meeting. Both men rose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Mark, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Good afternoon, Edythe.” He glanced at Barrett and back to her, grinning. “You’re a surprise too.”

  “He’s helping with a legal matter.” Edythe’s cheeks warmed at the defensiveness in her outburst. She focused her attention on Barrett. “I believe I told you about my friend, Claire Kingsley, and her fiancé.”

  Mark picked up his hat from a corner of Barrett’s desk. “That reminds me. Claire is waiting for me to go over some plans. I don’t want to be late and give her an excuse to back out of our partnership—business or personal.” He grinned.

  “Please tell her I said hello and I miss her at our meetings.”

  “I’ll do it.” He turned to Barrett. “I’ll meet you at the station Thursday afternoon.”

  Once Mark left, Edythe walked across the room for an explanation. “You’re leaving?” She despised the weakness in her voice.

  “Just a short trip to Peru to look into a possible witness in the Dulong murder. We’ll be back on Friday.” Barrett’s brow crimped. “How long have you been out there?”

  Was he asking if she’d overheard the previous conversation? “I came in a few seconds before Mrs. Quincy opened your office door. I didn’t intentionally listen but heard enough to know that you’re representing her husband.”

  “I’m convinced of Jeremiah’s innocence.”

  “If she needs another woman to talk to, she’s welcome to visit me.”

  He moved closer and rested a hand against her cheek. She leaned into his touch. “It’s thoughtful of you to offer a listening ear. Your kind spirit is one of the things I’ve always loved about you.”

  The sincerity in his voice eased some of her concern. “Mark is going to Peru with you?”

  “He’s helping me with Jeremiah’s case. I really can’t say mor
e than that it’s possible he can identify the man I’m looking for.”

  “Oh.” At Mrs. Quincy’s voice coming from the doorway, Barrett dropped his hand and Edythe stepped back. The housekeeper clutched a broom in one hand and a rag in the other. “Pardon me for interrupting, Mr. Seaton.”

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Quincy.”

  “Under the circumstances, I don’t mind Mrs. Westin knowing about my husband’s case. The details will come out eventually.”

  Under what circumstances?

  Thinking back on Barrett’s words and touch to her cheek, Edythe understood. On one hand, it thrilled her to let others know of their renewed relationship. On the other, she hadn’t told her father yet. Having him hear rumors about them brought back her anxiety.

  Mrs. Quincy smiled at her. “I don’t spread gossip, ma’am.”

  Edythe nodded, taking the woman at her word. “I wish the best for your husband. He has a fine lawyer.”

  “We’re grateful to Mr. Seaton, but I believe God will walk beside Jeremiah and the truth will come out.”

  “I admire your faith, Mrs. Quincy. The only details I need pertain to Mr. Seaton’s absence, though as I told him, if you’d like another woman to confide in, I’ll be happy to listen.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am. For now, I’ll let you two talk in private. I have a porch to sweep.” She slipped by them and the front door closed.

  Barrett took Edythe in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” She ran a hand down the side of his bearded face. A month ago, she’d never thought to see that face again. “Please be careful. The idea of you looking for and finding a murder suspect is too frightful to imagine.”

  “I didn’t say he was a suspect.”

  “Not with your words, but I heard it in your voice. You think he has something to do with that man’s death.”

  “Possibly. For now, I only want to have a conversation with him. Mark and I will be fine. This isn’t my first criminal case, Edy.”

  She sighed. “Yes, well, I didn’t know about those.”

  He chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ll need to get used to the way I work, because when I return, we’re going to discuss our future.”

  When he returned. Words she longed to hear.

  Warmth spread through her. “Then hurry.”

  Barrett’s gaze drifted over her face as though he was memorizing it. His look of longing ignited in her a yearning to return to that out-of-the-way cornfield and resume those kisses that spoke of restored love and trust. “Would you like another bicycle-riding lesson?”

  He laughed, but a glance toward the hallway said he doubted the wisdom of taking her up on the offer today. “One day soon, but for now, remaining here is probably safer.” He gestured to the chair Mark had occupied. Once she sat, he settled behind his desk. “How is Andy?”

  She lamented the change in topic, yet appreciated his concern for her son. “It’s been almost three weeks with no charges. Surely, the police aren’t still considering his guilt.”

  “I spoke to the officer Saturday. Mrs. Stark has made herself a nuisance at the police station, insisting they charge someone, and Andy is their only suspect.”

  Edythe scooted forward on the seat. “No one saw anything and Mr. Stark doesn’t remember what happened. How can she expect the police to arrest my son with no witnesses?”

  “The officer assured me they were no closer to doing so than they were the night of the fire. Trust in the legal system. Trust in God’s providence. He knows the truth.”

  He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drilling into her. “Have you told him yet?”

  He had no need to remind her of the identity of him. “Not yet.”

  He closed his eyes as though counting to ten, then opened them. “Tell him soon or I will.”

  “Barrett—”

  “Unless you have no intention of proceeding with our relationship. If that’s the case, let me know now.”

  “I want nothing more than for us to be together, but Ansel was at the house when I got back the other day and—”

  “Who’s Ansel?” He dropped back against the office chair. “The man on the porch. Is this another effort to see you married?”

  “I’m afraid it might be. He’s a nice man, but—”

  “That’s what you said about Lamar Westin.”

  Rather than be perturbed at his irritation, she found it enlightening. It was flattering to see a man’s jealousy, but she couldn’t let him think there was a basis for it. “I have no interest in him, Barrett. Father will hear that as soon as I can find him.”

  “Find him?”

  “After Ansel left the other evening, he disappeared. I haven’t seen him since.”

  Barrett stepped around the desk and helped her to her feet. His voice softened. “Then tell him when he returns.”

  She couldn’t lose this man again. She couldn’t allow her father to continue to dictate everything about her life. “I will.”

  Edythe walked out the front door a few minutes later, his kisses still delighting her. She raised a silent prayer for her son’s name to be cleared and added one more, asking for the right time and right words to tell her father of her love for Barrett.

  Throughout her life, she’d often presented God with her intercessions for others, but asking God for anything of a personal nature amounted to little more than a passive hope. With Verbenia’s encouragement, Edythe was seeking that relationship her friend spoke of. She’d begun to strengthen her faith by realizing she’d never drawn close enough to God to comprehend the depth of His love. Rather, she’d measured His compassion for His children based on her father’s lack of such.

  Mrs. Quincy paused in her task of sweeping the porch and glanced at the front door. “He’s a good man.”

  Edythe glanced over her shoulder as though she could see Barrett through the wood. “Yes, he is.”

  She added one more prayer to her list, a request that God watch over both Barrett and Mark in their travels, and that they find the object of their search.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Barrett paused outside his Peru hotel room. “How about if we meet for supper in half an hour?”

  “Sounds good. I’m famished. In the meantime, I’ll wash some of this soot and dust off.” Mark Gregory entered his room and shut the door.

  Eager to follow suit, Barrett finished cleaning up a few minutes later.

  He looked out the window at the people coming and going along the sidewalks. Peru was the winter headquarters for the Wallace circus. It’d be nice to take Edy’s children to the circus one day. Sarah Jane, especially, would enjoy the exotic animals. Timothy’s mind would whirl with mathematical equations linking weight and height and whatever else was involved in walking a tightrope. No doubt, if given a chance, Andy would balance on that tightrope.

  But this trip’s priority was not to explore the circus grounds. It was to find information regarding the man whose name might or might not be Asa Osbourne and ascertain whether he had a role in the death of Claude Dulong—as witness or suspect.

  Not only did he want to bring Jeremiah and Mary good news, those few minutes he and Edy spent together in his office yesterday weren’t enough to satisfy him. It was strange how after years of separation and resentment, he now felt incomplete without her.

  Help me find the truth, Lord, for the sake of the Quincys. He stopped before asking God to hurry up.

  Inside his leather case sat the mail he’d retrieved from the post office before leaving Riverport. He shuffled through it, stopping at a square envelope Mrs. Quincy had added to the stack, one she’d said had been hand delivered.

  Barrett tore it open, pulled out a card, and read the invitation. Disbelieving what he read, he blinked and mumbled through the words a second time. “The Company of Mr. Barrett Seaton is requested at a reception to be held at the home of Judge Hayden Danby of Riverport on Tuesday, the seventh of September at seven o’clock in the evening.�
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  With the card clasped behind his back, Barrett paced from the head of the bed to the foot. Why would the judge invite him to his home for any reason, particularly for an event that required a printed invitation? Odd that Edy hadn’t mentioned a reception yesterday, or that he was invited. That alone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up...unless she sent it. If so, she’d told her father about them. He let out a loud whoop.

  Barrett tossed the invitation on the bed. It landed printed side down, revealing a handwritten note on the back. Discretion is requested with regard to your attendance. This event is a surprise for my daughter. Judge H. Danby

  A surprise for Edy? He frowned. That answered his question as to why she never mentioned it. Left unexplained was the judge’s purpose in inviting a man with whom he shared a mutual dislike. Unless she had talked to him and this was his way of saying he approved of their relationship.

  Barrett stuffed the invitation back into the envelope. Was he so far gone he’d grasp at any dubious excuse to imagine a future together with Edy?

  He joined Mark for supper in the small but pleasant dining room. Around them, quiet conversation and occasional laughter gave the room a cozy atmosphere.

  After finishing his apple pie, Mark leaned back in his chair. “It was nice to see Edythe again. She’s a fine woman. Claire counts her as a good friend.”

  “I wasn’t aware you two knew one another before yesterday.”

  “Until recently, Claire was part of the Widow’s Might group. Earlier in the summer, the ladies took on a repair project for a woman who is now also a member.” Mark laughed. “I can tell you that Mrs. Westin wields an authoritative crowbar on porch planks.”

  Barrett wiped the corner of his mouth. “A crowbar? Edy?” He had difficulty picturing her holding the tool, much less prying up boards in an authoritarian manner.

  “I got the idea the two of you were longtime friends.” When Barrett didn’t respond to the subtle inquiry, Mark pushed the dessert plate away and crossed his arms on the table. “Look, it isn’t my business, so forgive me for meddling, but Claire is concerned about the family.”