by Ciara Knight
“No.” Beth raced forward and threw her arms around Wayne’s leg. “Daddy.”
Shirley pried Beth from his leg. “No, sweetheart. I told you that he’s not your daddy.”
Harry didn’t even try to comfort Beth. He only stepped toward Wayne. “Thank you for caring for my wife and child while I was away, but I’m here now and I’ll be taking Shirley back to New York in the morning.”
Wayne looked to Shirley, who paced the floor like a wild bear in a rabbit cage. She held tight to Beth, and he could see she wanted to be anywhere other than near the man in front of him. “Shirley?”
“I’m not returning to New York. Not now, not ever.” She raced out of the room and down the hall. With suitcase in hand, she returned to the living room and wrapped Beth in her coat and hat.
Harry leaned in to Shirley and whispered something too low for Wayne to hear. When Harry moved away, she dropped the suitcase. In that moment, Wayne knew whatever the man had said changed everything. “I’ll go with him.”
“You don’t have to go. Whatever game this man is playing, you don’t have to deal with him alone,” Wayne said, stepping closer to Harry with his hands fisted at his sides, but Victor put a hand on his chest.
“Not here in front of the children. Go. I promise to look after Shirley until all of this is figured out. If this is her husband, though, you have no choice but to stand aside.”
Victor’s words drove him from the house and up the street. He pushed the door open, startling Mrs. Slaughter.
“What’s wrong?”
“Shirley. Her husband. Life. Everything.” He threw his hat at the wall and ripped his coat off. “It’s not right. There’s something wrong here. I can feel it. Call it journalistic intuition or just a dislike of the man. But there is no way Shirley is married to him. She can’t be.”
“Her husband?” Mrs. Slaughter asked, dropping her knitting into the basket at her side.
“Yes, apparently. The woman everyone thought I should date. The one I thought I could give up my career for and remain in this small town and marry.” He shot up the stairs, feeling like he could punch through a wall. He wanted to run that man out of town, but Shirley said she’d go with him. Why? It didn’t matter. She’d made her choice so he grabbed his suitcase from under the bed and tossed it onto the mattress.
The slow steps of Mrs. Slaughter approached. “You going to run away the first time things get rough like you used to? What about your sister-in-law and your niece and nephew?”
“When things get rough? How about impossible? She’s married and she’s leaving tomorrow,” Wayne said, his breath coming in spurts of tight gasps. “She told me she wanted to share something with me, and I trusted her. I said I didn’t need to know, but I did. If she’s married, she needed to tell me that.”
“She did tell us she was married but that her husband died.”
“Yes, but something tells me she knew that wasn’t the case.”
“Did she say that man was her husband?”
Wayne opened his suitcase. “No, but she didn’t say he wasn’t, and she said she’d leave in the morning with him to return to New York.”
Mrs. Slaughter sat on the edge of the bed, and he knew it had pained her greatly to make it up the stairs. “Tell me everything, from the start until now.”
“We had a magical night.” He told her about how perfect the date had been, how they’d kissed under the stars and talked about their next date, but about how they’d been surprised when they reached the Besslers’. “The man stepped up, called himself Harry Wilson, and announced himself as her husband.” He collapsed onto the bed, feeling dizzy.
“What did Shirley say to that?”
Wayne shot up once more, snatched his clothes from the top drawer, and dropped them into the suitcase. He told her about Shirley packing a suitcase.
“Doesn’t sound like she wants to be with that man.”
He emptied the second drawer and snagged his other jacket and shirt hanging in the armoire. With a frown, he explained about the man whispering something to Shirley that caused her to change her mind about returning with him to New York. “Why would she do that if he wasn’t her husband?”
“I don’t know, but why would a man come into town under the guise of being Davey’s uncle, only to announce he’s Shirley’s husband? If they were happily married, wouldn’t he want her to know he was home and alive? Why play some sort of game unless he was concerned she wouldn’t be here if she knew he was arriving? Maybe her husband is an evil man who hurt her and she is trying to keep Beth safe from him.”
“Yes, but the fact is that she’s married to him.” Wayne sat up. “Unless she’s not.”
Mrs. Slaughter patted him on the shoulder. “Sounds like a good place to start. Maybe it’s time for you to put back on that journalistic hat again and go investigate.”
“Can I use your phone? I’ll pay the long-distance charge.”
“Yes, of course.”
“First I need to delay Shirley leaving, though.” He halted at the top of the stairs. “Actually, can you call the Besslers and ask Victor to tell Shirley that she can’t leave until they find a new nanny, that she owes them that much? She’ll stay as long as she can for them.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll go do that now.”
Wayne went to the desk in his room and wrote out Harry Wilson, Malone family, Charles Stetson. He took notes on everything he could remember from what Shirley had told him and what Harry had said on the phone and in person, and then he raced downstairs.
When he reached the bottom, Mrs. Slaughter hung up the phone. “Victor promised to do his best. He says the man—Harry—has left for the evening but that he’ll be returning in the morning. He says Shirley has agreed to leave with him but that Victor knows she doesn’t want to go. Rosie is going to try to speak with her to see if she can gather more information.”
“Perfect, thank you.” There wasn’t time to correspond via letters, so he lifted the receiver, not caring how much this cost. “Long-distance operator, please.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Shirley hugged the pillow tight to her and cried into it. She wasn’t sure what she’d be able to do to escape this mess. If she stayed, then would Harry return her to the family in shame and take Beth away in secret? Could she come forward and tell the world the truth of her sin so that her family would no longer be able to hide the shame on the family name? If she ran, they’d take Davey. That’s what Harry had said. And if she knew her family, they’d do anything to protect their name.
The last time she saw the clock, it was three in the morning, but even when she did fall asleep, it was restless and plagued with nightmares. She brought Beth to bed with her and held her tight for the rest of the morning until her daughter woke.
When she heard stirring in the kitchen, she knew she couldn’t hide from the world any longer, so she dressed and readied Beth, who wasn’t her normal vibrant self today.
Rosie waited with a cup of coffee in hand. “Settle Beth in with the others for breakfast. I’ll be going in to work later today so we can chat.”
Shirley shook her head. “I’m so sorry I brought this into your family.”
“I don’t know what this is yet.” Rosie didn’t appear angry, but how could she not be? The entire time the kids ate in silence, Shirley thought through all of her options, but none looked good. When she and Rosie finally settled in for a conversation, she still didn’t know what she would tell her. No matter how she tried to rearrange the pieces in front of her, they never fit together right.
“It’s time to tell me the truth. I know I told you that you didn’t have to tell me, but we can’t help you if you’re not honest with us.” Rosie settled in on the couch, angled to face Shirley.
Tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “I wish I could. There’s so much I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. All I can say is that you and Vic need to remain far from this situation. I’ll be leaving today, and you and your
family can move on with your lives.”
“No.” Rosie huffed. “I’m not going to allow you to run off right now. I’m with child, and I have five children. I hired you to help me. The least you can do is stay until I can find a replacement for you.”
Shirley swiped the tears away. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Give me a week. That’s all I ask. That doesn’t seem unreasonable.” Rosie lifted her chin.
“You don’t want me staying here another week.”
“Yes, I do.” Rosie clapped her hands together. “Now that that’s settled, I need to get to work.” She donned her coat and left the house.
Before Shirley could even gather her wits, a knock at the door warned Shirley that Harry had returned to collect her. No doubt her parents had sent him here, but why had he agreed? She needed to somehow convince Harry to leave. She removed her house apron and answered the door. “Hello.”
“Hello. It’s time to go,” Harry announced without even looking at her. “Where’s the child?”
“I’m not leaving today,” she said, lifting her chin higher. “Tell me why you’re really here. How much have my parents offered you? How did you find me?”
He barged inside, so she shut the door but went to the hall to block him from where Beth was playing in their room. “It doesn’t matter how I found you, just that I did.” With a villainous smile, he moved to touch her, so she shot around the dining table.
“Don’t.”
“You didn’t say that the night we last saw each other.” He rounded the table, but she continued to move away.
“That was the past. From what I understand, you met a girl overseas and married her.”
He stiffened. “How would you know about that?”
“Because I tried to find you. The night we were together, you promised to return and marry me. That you loved me and that nothing would ever keep us apart. That the thought of leaving me behind was like ripping your heart from your chest.”
“A man will say anything before he leaves. You didn’t put up a fight. Besides, I didn’t know who you were. I thought you were some broad looking for a soldier to pass the time. Not some rich kid that had a real life.”
“So, when you found out who I was, you returned to the States.”
He removed his hat and tossed it on the table. “No, I returned when the war ended, and I brought my girl with me, but we’re not married. We’d planned to when we reached New York, but then I saw the picture and went to your parents. Told them where you were. I’ve got nothing since the war, no way to live or make a life except in a factory, and I’m tired of working for others, following orders, and doomed to die young. All I have to do is marry you and I’m set for life. Your parents told me they’d set us up in a house and I could live my life in private how I wanted as long as it never became public.”
“Of course they did.” Shirley’s temper threatened to take hold, but she couldn’t let it. She needed to stay focused. “How do you see this marriage working, considering you’re in love with another woman?”
“I’ve already spoken to her, and she agreed to remain in the house with us unmarried. We’ll be together with money, and you’ll live in the house with your daughter. It’s fair. You get to keep your child, and I get to keep the woman I love.”
“How is that fair when I love someone else?”
“That man from last night? He’s a nobody.” Harry cracked his knuckles against the tabletop. “Listen, you don’t want to live like this. I’m giving you a ticket back to your family. They said they wouldn’t let you keep the baby unless you were married, so here I am, answering your every prayer.”
“No, you’re forcing me into servitude. I refuse to return to my family, who controlled everything I did. My daughter will not grow up in that world. I’d rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable.”
“You’re only saying that because you’ve never been poor.”
“Haven’t I?” She couldn’t hold back any longer and met him at the edge of the table, poking him in the chest with her finger. “Until I had Beth, I lived with nuns, who told me I was a worthless, sinful creature. Then I lived in an unwed mothers home, where I sewed until my fingers hurt so bad and my eyesight began to change. I’d eat things that tasted worse than dead rat and I lived with such misery and poverty, but I fought my way out of it. Yes, I lied to get where I’m at, but the truth was unbearable.”
“Well, that’s over. Let’s go. No more stalling.” He grabbed his hat and marched to the door.
Rosie’s words echoed in her head. She wasn’t sure if she clung to them to buy herself more time to think or because she couldn’t bear leaving without helping Rosie find a replacement.
“I can’t leave today. Give me one week.”
He glowered at her.
“Mama?” Beth called from the hallway.
He snarled at her. “I doubt that brat’s even mine.”
“I wish she wasn’t.” Shirley raised her chin, determined to win this argument.
“Fine, one week. We leave with no more stalling. If not, I alert your parents to the price you wish to pay. It’s gone up. Davey will be taken away and put in an orphanage in New York City. Wayne will also disappear. You know your parents have the money to make it happen.”
She did, and not even a week would change that fact.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wayne was sitting at the dining table at Mrs. Slaughter’s house, working through everything, when the telephone rang. He darted to answer it before Mrs. Slaughter could even stand. “Hello?”
“Call for Wayne Bishop from The New York Times. Connecting.”
It took another few minutes before a voice boomed over the line.
“I knew you were waiting, so I thought I’d call to let you know that there’s no record of any marriages in the last six years between a Harry Wilson and a Shirley Stephens or Malone. I’d say your instincts were right. That man isn’t married to her.”
Wayne knew it. “What about the rest? Any other information?”
“I sent you everything I have. You’ll probably get it in a day or two in the mail. On paper it looks like Shirley Malone still lives at the Malone mansion, but no one has seen her in three years.”
“Cover-up about the baby. Maybe she rescued Beth from some bad situation with this man. There’s something wrong here.”
“My guess is the parents. They have been known to engage in questionable business practices. They were one of the few to maintain their fortunes and actually grow it during the war.”
“Understood. Thanks, Frank.”
“My pleasure. I couldn’t refuse to help the man who snuck me out as part of his film crew from a Nazi interrogation camp. Call me anytime.”
The phone disconnected, so Wayne hung up and put on his coat. “I’m headed to town. I’ll be back soon.”
“You get what you need to help Shirley?”
Wayne shook his head. “Not sure, but I have enough to dig a little more. All I know is that man is not her husband.”
“I’d say you know enough, then.” Mrs. Slaughter pointed at the door with a knitting needle. “Go get her.”
With no time to waste, he darted out the door and up the street. It had been four days since he’d last seen Shirley, who’d not left the Bessler house for any reason. Something told him she wasn’t hiding from him but from Harry. It didn’t take long to reach town and the toy shop that was currently serving as a showroom for both wooden toys and furniture.
Victor and Rosie worked together staging a beautiful table with carved hearts and flowers in the center.
“I can see that you both work well together.” Wayne pointed to the wooden pieces on the table.
“Thanks, I’ve enjoyed making them. Although, I still enjoy making toys. We’ll have a smaller section of them for sale that we’ll expand during the holidays. We’re changing the name to Bessler Furniture and Gifts.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Rosie brushed
sawdust from the top of the table. “I see you’re bursting to share some news. I’m hoping it’s about Shirley. She hasn’t been doing well.”
“Harry is not her husband,” he announced, as if that cleared everything up and they could all move on with their lives.
Victor took Rosie’s hand. “Why would she agree to leave with him, then?”
“My guess is that her parents are involved. They’re powerful people, and I think she had to run when she had Beth. I don’t know why, but that’s what I believe. It’s all speculation at this point, but I have people working on piecing this together. I’m hoping to speak with her later today, but she doesn’t answer the door when I knock.”
Rosie sighed. “I don’t suppose she would. Harry has come by every evening to make sure she’s still there. He tells her how many days she has left until they leave. This morning, he said two. He also said to stay away from the man up the street or she knew what would happen.”
“What a scoundrel.” Wayne fisted his hands but shoved them into his pockets. He’d learned a long time ago that knowledge was far more powerful than fists.
Rosie patted his back on her way by to move chairs into place. “How awful. Could you imagine being treated so poorly by your own parents? Then to be alone. I knew God brought her to us for some reason. I thought it was to help me, but perhaps it was for us to help her.”
Wayne knocked on the table twice. “Now I know where I need to look next. If we can’t get Shirley to tell us what’s going on, we can at least find a way to get him away from Shirley.”
“How will you do that?” Rosie asked.
“From my experience, you need leverage before you can make a deal. And I think Harry’s hiding something.” Wayne bolted out the door and headed to the Bessler house. He knew one thing. He had to make Shirley listen.
He wanted to pound on the door until Shirley answered, but he didn’t want to scare Beth. After several knocks with no response, he knew how to get her to open the door. “I know you’re not married to him, so I won’t stop fighting for you.”