Timothy let out a long breath. “And…what about you?”
Adelia raised her eyebrows. “What about me?”
“Just…I don’t know. How was…How were you?”
Adelia noticed the way he’d avoided making eye-contact, and she knew what he’d really been asking. How was the orphanage? No one ever wanted to say that word to her, as if doing so would hurt her. She wished she could tell everyone that she’d long ago numbed herself from the pain associated with the word.
“The orphanage wasn’t great, but I made it out in the end. I mostly just stayed to myself because I didn’t get along well with the other children. I was adopted once when I was eleven by a couple with a few children.” Adelia hesitated, looking down at her hands. “They ended up sending me back, though. Then, I just lived at the orphanage until I was old enough to begin working. The head of the place offered me a job in the kitchen, so I ended up still residing there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Adelia felt her face heating up as she avoided making eye-contact with him.
Timothy shook his head. “You didn’t deserve that life. I remember being so angry with our grandparents for a long time when they sent you and Annie to the orphanage. They weren’t wealthy, true, but they could’ve made it work. I know they could’ve.”
Adelia felt the tears beginning to rise, and she forced herself to push them away. “It’s…it’s not your fault.”
“No, I should’ve done something. I should’ve come with you.” Timothy ran both his hands through his hair, and he was noticeably shaking.
She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “Timothy, no. You were only eleven.”
“You and Annie were my little sisters. I failed you.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done.” Adelia felt herself tense as he reached across the table and took her hand.
“Did Annie get adopted? Do you still talk to her?”
Adelia swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pained expression on Timothy’s face. She’d always known she would have to tell him eventually. “She…she actually died when she was seven. Scarlet fever went through the orphanage.”
Tears glistened in his eyes, as he shook his head. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Adelia looked to where he still gripped her hand. She took a deep breath, looking toward the ladder in the far corner, trying to decide how long it would take her to run from the table and escape the conversation.
“I can still remember how stubborn Annie was. Ma was always making her sit in the chair in the corner, do you remember?” he asked, shaking his head as he wiped at his eye with his other hand.
“No, I don’t remember. I was only six when I was sent away. I don’t remember Ma or Pa, or any of the details of my time with them.” Adelia instantly knew she had spoken sharply, and she looked up to where Timothy pulled his hand back.
She slowly stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles of her long, sage green skirt. “Well, I think I’m going to go to sleep. I’m tired and need to be up early tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
Adelia walked to the ladder, feeling like each step was excruciatingly loud in the silent room. As she stepped on to the first rung, she glanced back to the table where Timothy was still sitting at the table. He leaned on the table with his elbows, both arms covering his head.
She watched for a few seconds longer, noticing his shoulders begin to shake.
A part of her felt bad for him, but the other was glad he was hurting. He’d gotten to grow up with enough food to eat, and with people who loved him. She’d never gotten that. She’d grown up having to always look for danger, and work to be valued. She had experienced eighteen years of pain, and so, Timothy could handle a few minutes.
At the top of the ladder now, she found her way to her bed and sat down slowly, her hands shaking as she tried to calm herself down.
It’s not his fault. He probably didn’t have it easy either. She told herself, covering her face with her hands. These words were pushed to the side by the memories of her life, and the feeling of envy she felt toward Timothy.
Their grandparents had chosen him. He had been wanted by someone. Loved by someone. And she had never had that.
A tear escaped from her eye, and soon another followed, and eventually Adelia allowed herself to fall apart. It wasn’t very often she let herself, but that conversation had brought up so many feelings, and she didn’t know what else to do. But deep down, she knew it was wrong to be angry with Timothy for what had happened to her.
It’s not like he was the one who had made it all happen.
Lying down, she pulled her legs up to her chest and her whole body shook as she quietly let herself cry until darkness finally took its hold.
Chapter 8
“He’s so little,” Kate whispered, peering into the cradle where the three-day old baby was lying.
“You were that little once,” Nathaniel said softly, resting his hand on Kate’s shoulder.
“What’s his name again?” she asked, looking to where Matthew was standing.
“Owen.”
Kate smiled. “I can’t wait until Owen is old enough to play with us.”
Matthew chuckled lightly. “It will be awhile until then.”
“Babies sleep a lot,” George said.
Nathaniel smiled, shaking his head. “Well, let’s let him sleep. We should get going home.”
He waited for his three children to follow Matthew to the door, and they all went outside.
“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Matthew.” Nathaniel patted his brother on the back.
“Only learned from the best.” Matthew laughed.
“Well, thank you for letting us come to meet him. I know you two must be exhausted. I’m glad Harriet is doing well, though.”
Matthew nodded. “I’m glad you came. I wanted Owen to meet his uncle, and cousins. He’s going to be spending a lot of time with you after all.”
“He’s welcome to come help me fix the hole in the barn roof anytime.” Nathaniel smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Oh yes, I’ll just pack him a lunch and he’ll be right over.”
“Great, I’ll be waiting.” Nathaniel began walking toward where Isabella, George, and Kate were waiting by the road, before turning around to give Matthew a quick wave.
He couldn’t believe his little brother was now a father. To Nathaniel, it seemed like not that long ago he was holding baby Matthew for the first time. He had been seven at the time, and he could still remember how excited he’d been.
“I want a brother, Pa.” Kate reached out to take his hand.
“You have a brother.”
She giggled. “I want a sweet one like Owen.”
“Hey!” George grinned, shoving Kate’s shoulder lightly.
“That’s enough, you two.” Nathaniel smiled.
As the children talked and laughed among themselves, Nathaniel found himself walking the rest of the way home quietly, deep in thought. He was trying to calculate how much money there would be after the crop was harvested. Then he went through each worst-case scenario with a plan in place to ensure everything would work out.
Nathaniel had a plan for everything. He always liked to know exactly what he was doing, where he was going, and what he would do in the future. The unknown events of the future scared him, and he didn’t like it when surprises came. Still, he had plans for many surprises that may arise in life.
For example, he knew what he would do if one of the children were to break their leg. He would bring one of the mattresses down from the loft and set it beside the table. He also would need to take a shorter amount of time for lunch during the day, since he would be giving the children a ride to and from school.
When they arrived home, Nathaniel sent the children to do their chores and he went inside to begin making supper. He could still remember the first few times he’d tried making food on his own, and what horrible res
ults had come from it. Most of it had been completely charred.
Nathaniel knew he wasn’t going to become a restaurant owner anytime soon, because even though he’d improved over the years, it still wasn’t anything to be proud of.
He often imagined the laughing and teasing face of Isabella who would certainly be mortified by the food he was making if she was still alive. He also knew, though, she would be happy he was doing his best and making an effort. At least, he hoped she would feel he was doing well enough on his own because sometimes Nathaniel felt like a complete failure.
Chapter 9
Adelia had just reached across the table, wiping the sticky jam left over from a child earlier, when she heard the bell above the door. She turned to see a woman with long, honey blonde hair enter. Making her way to the counter, she looked at her. “What can I get for you today?”
The woman smiled. “Oh, I’m not here to order anything. I’m Mrs. Colbert, Mrs. Tiller’s daughter.”
Adelia felt her face flush as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes, you, too. My mother has nothing but praise for you.”
“Mrs. Tiller has provided me with such a wonderful opportunity. I couldn’t be more grateful.”
Mrs. Colbert smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m guessing she’s in the kitchen with my pa?”
Adelia nodded and watched after Mrs. Colbert as she made her way into the kitchen. She was happy to hear Mrs. Tiller was pleased with her work because she didn’t know what she’d do if she couldn’t work at the café.
She returned to wiping down the table, and then glanced at the kitchen door, not sure if she should go in while the Tillers were talking with their daughter. It was four o’clock, though, and that meant her workday was over, even though the café was still open until seven. Adelia had chosen what time she could work till because while she’d like the extra money, she also needed to do work at the house in the evenings.
Deciding she could wait a few extra minutes, she sat down at one of the tables by the window and gazed out at the mostly empty street and the pouring rain. It had been raining on and off for most of the afternoon, and the sky was a dreary gray color that reminded Adelia of rainy evenings from the orphanage window.
In the glass, her reflection stared back at her and her eyes were instantly drawn to the bright red scar on her forehead that was almost a perfect line. Adelia could remember spending countless hours in front of the mirror over the years trying to find a way to cover the mark with her hair. But she’d gotten to a point in her life now where she knew the scar wasn’t going to leave. She had to accept it.
It was a daily reminder of the place she’d grown up in, as if the scars her childhood had left on her heart weren’t enough.
Memories of the day rushed back to her, despite trying to push it away.
“Oh, look who it is.”
Adelia had looked up from where she’d been scrubbing the floor at the top of the stairs to where Margaret and Elle were standing. She’d scowled. “What do you want?”
“We were just wanting to say hello.” Margaret had smirked. “You don’t have to be so rude all the time.”
“I was only being rude because you usually have something nasty to say to me.”
Elle had looked at Margaret and smiled. “Oh, Adelia, you’re just jealous because we don’t have to clean all the time.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s because Mrs. Hansen doesn’t like you. You do know she doesn’t like you, right?”
Adelia had nodded, looking back down to the cloth in her hand.
“She’s too ugly for anyone to adopt her. That’s why Mrs. Hansen gets her to do the chores. So, she can earn her keep.”
Tears had burned in the back of her eyes, but she’d willed herself not to cry in front of those girls. Elle and Margaret had hated her from the day they’d arrived at the orphanage together four months earlier.
Adelia had become used to the groups of horrible children who would come and then be adopted, as she’d been at the orphanage nearly five years by then. There were some children who were quiet and didn’t say much who Adelia tended to befriend during their short stays, but some were mean, and tormented the others.
“How long have you been here again, Adelia?” Margaret had sneered.
She’d hated the way Margaret would say her name as if it was some kind of poison.
“I heard she has been here her whole life.” Elle had smiled, her bright green eyes twinkling. “She was so ugly when she was born that her parents didn’t even want her.”
Adelia had felt the anger rising inside her, as she’d scrubbed the floor harder. Both girls were laughing, and the tears clouded her vision. “Go away.”
“Oh, Elle, we’ve made poor Adelia cry.”
Adelia had let go of the cloth and looked up at them through the tears as she’d stood. Before she’d had time to think it through, she’d taken a step toward Margaret and shoved her. Margaret had fallen backward, and Elle had let out a gasp.
Hands shaking, Adelia had felt the tears running down her face as Margaret stood up. But before she could brace herself, she’d been shoved backward, and felt her foot catch on her dress as she tried to prevent herself from falling.
Instead, she’d only stumbled farther backward until she was tumbling down the stairs. All she could hear was the sound of Margaret and Elle laughing, as she’d tried to grab onto the railing. Suddenly, searing pain had pulsed through her head. She’d hit her head on something, and before she could see if any help was coming, her vision had gone black.
“Miss Mason?”
Adelia jumped, turning to where Mrs. Tiller was standing in the door of the kitchen. “Yes, Mrs. Tiller?”
“I was just saying that you’re free to go home. It’s after four o’clock.”
“Right, I was just about to go. Thank you.” Adelia forced herself to stand, her hand automatically reaching up to feel the raised scar on her forehead before she hurried to the kitchen to grab her shawl and bag.
“You know we’re not open tomorrow right? It’s Sunday.”
Adelia nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’ll see you on Monday. Good evening to you, Mrs. Tiller.”
Before allowing Mrs. Tiller time to reply, she opened the backdoor and stepped outside, pulling it shut behind her quickly. Letting out a long breath, she shook her head.
She knew she needed to stop dwelling on the past and thinking about things she couldn’t change, but a part of her couldn’t seem to escape from the torments of her mind.
Chapter 10
Nathaniel’s whole body ached from the constant jolting of the wagon he’d been in almost all day. He was almost home, though, and he couldn’t wait to get inside where it was warm and dry. His clothes were completely wet, and the horses had mud layered thickly on their legs. The rain was coming down hard, like it had been doing for the last two hours, and the sky was a miserable gray.
Nathaniel whistled to himself, focusing his eyes on the worn dirt road ahead and the two horses pulling the wagon along slowly. As he continued along the familiar road home, he thought he saw someone walking on the path up ahead. Squinting, Nathaniel clicked his tongue and lifted the reins to get the horses to quicken their pace.
He was soon close enough to realize it was a woman walking quickly, her head down. As he pulled up alongside her, he slowed the horses. “Whoa.”
The team stopped, and Nathaniel recognized Miss Mason, the woman who had begun working at the Tiller café.
“Miss Mason, where are you headed?”
“To my brother’s house.”
“Climb up, I’ll give you a ride.”
She shook her head, a few strands of her damp brown hair stuck to the side of her face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine with walking Mr.…”
“I’m Nathaniel Anderson.”
Miss Mason frowned and nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, I’m trying to
remember everyone’s names and it’s quite confusing.”
“It’s all right, but please allow me to take you home. I don’t think this rain is going to stop anytime soon.”
Miss Mason glanced in the direction she’d been going, and then back up at him, her big, blue eyes meeting his. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, your brother’s house is only a bit farther than mine.” Nathaniel nodded for her to climb up, and he reached his hand out to take hers, helping her until she was seated. Letting go of her hand, he lifted the reins, and got the wagon moving slowly ahead again.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Anderson.”
“It’s no problem really. I’ve already been driving in the rain for the past couple of hours anyway, so I’ve gotten used to it.”
“So, you weren’t just coming from town then?”
He shook his head, urging the horses to go faster. “No, I was doing a delivery for the sawmill to a man about half an hour from town.”
“Do you work at the sawmill?”
“Yes, I only take hours there when I’m not able to do anything on the farm.”
“I see.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Where did you live before coming here?”
“Richmond, Virginia.”
“Ah, that’s quite a big city, isn’t it?”
She nodded, folding her hands in her lap.
“Your brother came out here before you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did, but he wasn’t living in Richmond before.” Miss Mason scratched the back of her neck and paused briefly. “He was raised by my grandparents and we hadn’t seen each other since I was six. I found where he was and came out here.”
Nathaniel raised his eyebrows but forced himself not to act surprised. He always tried to have a small conversation with people, and he somehow always seemed to end up bringing them to a topic they were clearly uncomfortable with. “Oh, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. It’s just the way it is,” Miss Mason said coldly.
A Chance to Love (Life's a Chance Book 3) Page 3