The Brightest of Dreams

by Susan Anne Mason

  When the coast was clear, Quinn sprinted across to the barn and around the back. He stopped in the shade of a tree and took a minute to survey the area.

  A second later, Quinn’s heart rate shot up. In a nearby pigsty, a thin boy shoveled muck into a bucket while the pigs ate from a trough at the opposite end, snorting their pleasure. Could this lad be Harry?

  Staying behind some shrubs, Quinn moved closer. The boy’s back remained to Quinn, and he almost groaned in frustration. Since no one was in the vicinity, Quinn took a chance and approached the pen.

  “Excuse me. Can you help me with something?”

  The boy turned. Dark circles hugged eyes that appeared sunken. Cheekbones stood out against the rest of his gaunt face. He glanced up, then looked down at the ground. “You’d best talk to Mr. Murdoch, the farm foreman.” He went right back to shoveling the slop.

  Though Quinn could make out some familiar traits, he couldn’t be sure the boy was his brother. “I’m looking for Harrison Aspinall,” he said. “I understand he works here.”

  The boy’s hands stopped moving. Slowly he turned around again. A mixture of fear and suspicion flashed over his face. “I’m Harrison. Who are you?”

  Quinn winced. Had it been so long that Harry no longer remembered him? He stared for a moment, taking in his brother’s features. In the hazel eyes and swath of freckles across his cheeks, he found traces of the youngster he remembered. Yet Harry’s thinness and rather stooped posture belied his age of twelve. By the looks of him, Quinn would have thought him no more than nine. He swallowed the lump in his throat and moved closer to the fence, where he took off his cap and attempted a smile. “Don’t you recognize your own brother?”

  Harry went white. His mouth fell open, and the shovel slipped from his fingers into the mud. “Quinn? Is it you?”

  “Yes, Harry. It’s me. I’ve come to take you home.”

  The boy gave a strangled cry. In a flash, he scrambled over the fence and threw his arms around him, pressing his face into Quinn’s chest. Harry’s frail body shook so hard that Quinn automatically tightened his grip on the boy. When he did, the protrusion of every sharp ridge in the boy’s spine bit into Quinn’s palm. Despite the stench of unwashed body and pig manure that wafted upward, Quinn pulled Harry closer, hardly able to believe he’d found him. Though he longed to savor the moment, urgency made him end the embrace.

  “Get your things, Harry. We need to make it to the station before the next train is due to leave.” And before the farmer has time to miss you.

  Harry’s face, blotchy with tears, crumpled even more. “I can’t leave, Quinn. I have chores to do.” His eyes widened as he scanned the area around them.

  Quinn frowned. Maybe Harry didn’t understand his meaning. “Not anymore. I’m taking you away from here for good. Home to Mum, where you belong. Come on. No time to waste.” He propelled Harry toward the barn. “Change your clothes and wash off some of that . . . dirt.”

  Harry came to a stop. “I don’t have any other clothes. This is it.”

  Quinn fought to keep his dismay and his distaste from showing. He’d have to take Harry as is, manure and all, and hope to sit at the back of the train so as not to offend the other passengers. “It’s all right. I’ll buy you some new ones tomorrow. Now let’s get a move on.”

  Deftly, he steered Harry toward the cover of foliage in the hopes of avoiding detection. But they’d only gone a few feet when loud footsteps sounded behind them.

  Harry gasped and stopped dead. “It’s Mr. Murdoch. We can’t let him see us.” The boy clutched his stomach like he might be sick.

  In a protective gesture, Quinn shoved Harry behind a bush and ducked down beside him. A burly man strode over to the pigsty, scanned the area, then strode into the barn, frowning.

  “He’s looking for me. I have to go.” Harry looked panicked.

  Quinn rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Harry, what do you want to do? Come with me or stay here?”

  Harry’s eyes widened, darting from Quinn to the barn and back. “I . . . I don’t know.” His body began to shake beneath Quinn’s fingers.

  Was it fair to expect the lad to make such a quick decision when he was obviously terrified?

  “Listen, I know you have work to do. Why don’t you take some time to think it over? I’ll come back in the morning and we can make a decision then.”

  Harry bit his lip. “You promise you’ll come back?”

  “First thing tomorrow. I promise. Have your belongings ready to go, just in case, and don’t tell anyone I was here.” Then Quinn pulled the boy in for a quick hug. “Now, off you go and try not to worry.”

  “All right. Bye, Quinn.” Harry scurried off toward the barn.

  Quinn waited until the boy was out of sight before pulling his cap lower on his forehead and settling into a more comfortable position amid the bushes. He wanted to wait a bit longer to make sure this Murdoch character wasn’t giving Harry a hard time, and after several minutes when nothing seemed amiss, Quinn started back through the foliage toward the main road.

  As he walked, Quinn’s gut churned. He hated leaving Harry here when he was so clearly anxious, but what could he do? Drag the boy off the property? That wouldn’t be fair to him and would feel too close to kidnapping.

  Quinn would find a room for the night and return at dawn the next morning. Hopefully by then, Harry would have come to terms with leaving the farm, and Quinn would be able to get him away without any trouble.

  CHAPTER 10

  “I believe I’ve found the perfect position for you.” Seated in Mrs. Chamberlain’s parlor, Rev. Burke beamed at Julia.

  “My goodness, that was fast.” She forced a light laugh that she hoped sounded convincing. Yet she doubted her false smiles were fooling anyone.

  Mrs. Chamberlain had informed her at dinner that Rev. Burke was coming over to discuss a possible employment opportunity. Two days ago, such news would have been cause for great excitement. But how could she start a new job now, when she’d only have to leave once her condition became apparent?

  Julia’s whole future now stretched before her as a vast unknown. The tentative idea of going back to England with Quinn and his siblings was no longer a possibility. For a brief moment, learning that Uncle Howard had forgiven her had allowed Julia to believe she could return to Brentwood. But her pregnancy changed everything. She could never subject her uncle’s family, especially her dear cousin, Amelia, to such disgrace. It would tarnish her uncle’s name, not to mention ruin Amelia’s prospects for a good marriage.

  In addition, Julia grieved the loss of her dream to have a career. Any type of schooling would now be impossible. She wouldn’t be able to support herself, let alone afford tuition. Dr. Clayborne might have to find her a maternity home sooner than expected.

  “That’s wonderful news, Geoffrey.” Mrs. Chamberlain passed him a plate of ladyfingers. “I knew you’d find something suitable for Julia.”

  “What sort of position is it?” Julia tried to appear as interested as they both expected her to be.

  “One of my parishioners, an elderly widow by the name of Mrs. Middleton, has been in the hospital for several weeks now. When I went to visit her again yesterday, she told me she might be released soon. But there’s a slight problem.” He rested his cup on his lap. “The doctor feels she needs more care and asked if she had a son or daughter she could live with.”

  “Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Mrs. C. shook her head as she poured more tea into her cup. “Mrs. Middleton’s only son died a couple of years ago in the war. Such a tragedy.”

  “Indeed. But that gave me a brilliant idea.” Rev. Burke’s face brightened. “I suggested she hire a live-in companion. Naturally I had you in mind, Julia.”

  She bit her lip. What a perfect job this would have been.

  “Oh my word.” Mrs. C. clapped her hands together. “That’s ideal. Though I will certainly miss your company, dear.”

  Julia managed a weak smile. Wha
t could she say? If she refused to consider the position, they would think her extremely ungrateful—and possibly be a little suspicious. And she was not ready to tell anyone about her pregnancy, not until she’d had time to sort through her options and determine whether she could keep the baby or not. She would go along with the idea for now.

  “It does sound wonderful.” She paused, shifting position on the sofa. “Do you think we’d get on well together?”

  “I’m sure you would,” Mrs. C. said. “Violet is a kind and . . . spirited woman. Although she’s been more despondent since her son died. You might be just the tonic she needs.” She patted Julia’s leg, her expression eager. “And you’ll love her house. It’s a beautiful Victorian manor, which she always keeps in impeccable condition.”

  Julia forced an expression of interest. “Well then, how do we proceed from here?”

  Rev. Burke took a pipe from his pocket and tapped it on his palm. “I’ll tell Violet you’re interested. Then perhaps you could go up to the hospital tomorrow and visit her. See if you think you two would make a good fit.” He glanced at Julia as he lit the pipe.

  “I can do that. Thank you, Reverend Burke.” Maybe once she met Mrs. Middleton, she’d find a viable excuse not to take the job.

  “My pleasure. I have a feeling you two will get on famously.” He leaned back in his chair, seeming quite pleased with himself.

  Julia kept her smile in place, wishing she could show more enthusiasm. If circumstances were different, she would have jumped at the chance to work for this lady. No more rodents, no horrid stenches in the hallway, no boorish landlords to plague her. No more depending on the kindness of others to support her.

  If only one major error in judgment hadn’t ruined all that.

  The next day, Julia entered the main lobby of the Toronto General Hospital and headed for the information desk, where she inquired about Mrs. Middleton.

  The clerk directed her to the third floor. After taking the stairs, Julia hesitated outside the doorway to the room, nerves swirling through her system. Rev. Burke had been kind enough to set up this meeting, but now that she was here, Julia suddenly felt deceptive. Maybe she should come right out with the truth before Mrs. Middleton began counting on having someone to stay with her when she went home. Taking a deep breath, Julia knocked on the partially opened door.

  When a firm voice bade her enter, she walked inside, bracing for whatever she might see. Since the minister hadn’t been clear about the woman’s medical condition, Julia prepared herself for the worst. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised.

  Mrs. Middleton sat up in bed, looking alert and well-groomed. Silver spectacles highlighted intelligent blue eyes. Her graying hair was fixed in a thick plait that lay over one shoulder.

  “Mrs. Middleton?” The woman must have clout or money, because somehow she was in a private room. Fresh flowers adorned the nightstand and the windowsill, their fragrance overpowering the pervasive medicinal hospital smell. “I’m Julia Holloway.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Holloway. My eyesight’s not as good as it used to be, so you’ll need to pull a chair up close.”

  Julia did as she requested and perched on the edge of the seat.

  “Thank you for coming. I realize this is a somewhat unorthodox location for a job interview.” The woman smiled.

  “Reverend Burke says you’ve been here for some time. I hope you’re feeling better.” Julia didn’t want to pry into the woman’s business, but she had to at least address the issue of her health.

  “I’m much improved after a nasty fall, the result of a weakened heart. Thank you for asking. Unfortunately, these pesky doctors don’t want to release me unless I have someone at home to help me.”

  “I see.” But Julia didn’t really, as Mrs. Middleton looked perfectly healthy. She waited for the woman to explain further.

  “The plain fact is, I’m getting old. My heart isn’t behaving as it should, and I’m losing my vision. Reverend Burke suggested a live-in companion to help take care of my personal needs. I don’t require a cook or housekeeper, since I have those already.” She squinted at Julia. “It would be a trial-and-error situation, since I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “I’ve had a little experience in this area,” Julia said slowly. “I came to Canada with a wounded soldier who’d lost the use of his legs. He needed someone to help him adjust to his new circumstances. I took care of him until he . . .” Her voice faltered, and she took a moment to collect herself. “He passed away a few months ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” The woman peered at her. “It sounds as though you were fond of him.”

  “I was.” Was Mrs. Middleton fishing for information as to the nature of their relationship? Julia supposed it could be misconstrued. “Private McIntyre and I developed a friendship at the infirmary in England where we met. It was a relationship based on trust and mutual respect, otherwise I would not have come with him to Canada.”

  “Thank you for sharing that. I appreciate honesty in a person.”

  Julia did her best not to flinch. What would the woman say when she learned Julia’s secret?

  “Reverend Burke said you’re working at a hospital now. Are you a nurse?”

  “Not exactly.” Julia didn’t want to admit what she actually did there. Instead, she focused on her other experiences. “However, during the war, I did assist the medical staff with the injured soldiers.”

  “You know some first aid?”

  “Quite a lot, actually. Working with the doctors, I learned to treat all types of wounds, as well as various other illnesses.”

  “Well, that could come in handy. What other skills do you have, Miss Holloway?”

  Julia squeezed her hands together. Should she just tell the woman now before this interview went any further? She moistened her dry lips. “I’m a decent cook and a better baker. Before my mother died, she taught me to make bread, as well as the flakiest pastry you could imagine.” She allowed herself the pleasure of remembering those happy times with her mother for a moment. “But then, you said you already had a cook.”

  “I do, but it never hurts to have someone able to fill in when necessary. What else?”

  Julia swallowed, suddenly aware of how lacking she was in job skills. “I’m an organized person, one who pays attention to details. I’m well-educated and well-read. I can play chess and the piano. . . .” She trailed off, attempting to come up with something more substantial.

  Mrs. Middleton studied her. “You seem like an intelligent young woman, tidy and clean—” she glanced at Julia’s attire—“though not very stylish.”

  Julia ran a hand over her best navy skirt, thinking of all the beautiful clothes she’d left behind in England. Perhaps she should have worn her one good dress, but she wanted to come across as sensible, not frivolous. “I left home rather quickly and wasn’t able to bring my gowns with me.”

  Mrs. Middleton arched a brow. “I’m sure there’s more to that tale. Perhaps you’ll tell me one day. I do love a good story.”

  With no ready answer, Julia blinked but remained silent.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I think you’ll do nicely for the job. If you can put up with an old bird like me.” Mrs. Middleton chortled out a hoarse laugh.

  Julia chuckled too. It was hard not to like this feisty woman. But she couldn’t in good conscience accept the post without being completely honest. “I imagine we’d get along just fine,” she said. “However, there’s something you need to know, which might change your mind.”

  “Oh?” The woman’s eyes sharpened on Julia’s face.

  The hard spokes of the chair bit into Julia’s back. Her breathing grew labored, imagining the woman’s reaction. “Before I tell you, I must ask for your discretion.”

  Her fair brows rose. “Discretion is my middle name, child. Now, what is it?”

  Julia’s heart pounded in her chest. Once she spoke the words, her condition would become a reality. Her world mig
ht never be the same again. She inhaled and released a long breath. “I’ve just learned that I’m expecting a baby. Sometime before Christmas, if the doctor is correct.” Heat climbed into her cheeks. She stared at the woolen blanket on the bed, not daring to look up.

  Several seconds of silence ensued until Mrs. Middleton cleared her throat. “That does change matters, doesn’t it?”

  Julia pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, ma’am. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Reverend Burke why I couldn’t accept the position.” She stood up, clutching her handbag.

  “Hold on a minute.” Mrs. Middleton waved a blue-veined hand. “Let me catch my breath here.”

  Julia froze by the chair. “It’s all right. You don’t owe me any more of your time.”

  “I realize that, girl. But it occurs to me we’re both in a pickle of a situation and maybe we can help each other out. At least for a time, anyway.”

  “Y-you’d still consider hiring me?” Julia couldn’t believe the woman hadn’t tossed her out on her ear.

  “First, I’d like to know if the father of the child is still in the picture.”

  Julia straightened and lifted her chin. “No, ma’am. I hope to never see him again.”

  “Another story I look forward to hearing.” The woman studied her. “That being the case, I’m willing to take a chance if you are.”

  Julia’s throat tightened. Never in her wildest imagination did she think Mrs. Middleton would accept an unwed pregnant woman as her companion. “If you’re sure, I . . . I’d like that very much.”

  “Good. It’s settled, then. All I need now is for my doctor to tell me when I can go home.” She sank back against the pillows. “He has another couple of tests he wants to run, so it may be a week or more. I’ll let the minister know when they give me a release date, and he can pass it on to you.”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Middleton. And if there’s anything I can do in the meantime, please let me know. I’m staying at Mrs. Chamberlain’s boardinghouse if you need to reach me.”