by Lori Wick
“I sense the children would wish it.”
“I think you must be right.”
Jennings nodded, glad it was settled, but still asked himself what he was in for.
Subtly observing the other man’s face, Palmer had all he could do not to smile. He found himself praying for his brother-in-law, hoping he would soon see how much God loved him, knowing that God was well accustomed to dealing with skeptics and doubters.
Lydia stood very still, listening intently. Something was wrong. The girls had been playing, but it had grown very quiet. From the distance, Lydia thought she heard a small cry. She didn’t think it was one of her girls, which left only one choice: Penny. She hurried in the direction of the small salon and was nearly at the door when her own Emma came rushing out.
“Oh, Mama! We can’t find Mr Pat, and Penny is terribly upset!”
“All right, I’m coming.”
“Do you need me, mum?” Judith asked; she had also come at the sound of Emma’s distressed tone.
“We’ve a small crisis, Judith. Penny—” Lydia began as soon as she was in the room. “It’s all right, dear. Don’t cry,” she said as she took her in her arms. “We’ll find Mr Pat.”
But it wasn’t that simple. Penny wasn’t sobbing or even crying loudly. Indeed she was nearly frozen with her distress, the occasional tear falling from her eyes.
“Do you know where you last had him?”
“I don’t know. I need Mr Pat.”
“We’ll find him,” Lydia said optimistically, even as she prayed that Thomas or James would make an appearance. She had seen very early in the visit that Penny was attached to her brothers and believed they could help in any situation. Instead, she got the next best thing. Her own brother appeared, Palmer at his side, and went directly to Penny.
“What is it, Penny?” Jennings asked, taking a seat to be on her level. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I need Mr Pat.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, let’s think a moment. Did you have him at breakfast?”
Penny nodded, looking miserable.
“Could he still be in the dining room?”
“No.” Emma shared this news. “He was here just a little while ago.”
“And you’ve played right here the whole time?” Lydia asked.
“We went to the garden to get some flowers,” Lizzy told her mother, “but we came right back.”
“Which means he could be many places,” Jennings said quietly.
Before Penny could look too stricken, Palmer gave an order. “All right, girls, spread out and start looking.”
“Come on, Penny,” Lizzy, the youngest of the group, said as she took her hand. “We’ll help you find him.”
Companionable as ever, the girls began their search. It did not escape Jennings’ notice that Palmer and Lydia did not join in. He had been ready to help but then stood in indecision.
“Is it not a good idea to help them?” he asked as soon as the little girls headed back toward the garden and out of earshot.
Palmer answered, “It’s not being uncaring, Jennings, but if they can work this out for themselves, that would be best.”
Jennings looked skeptical, and Lydia questioned him. “You don’t agree, Jennings?”
“I don’t know. Mr Pat is not just any toy. He belonged to her mother.”
Jennings found the Palmers smiling at him.
“You find it amusing?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice.
“Not in the least. We’ve just never seen you so concerned about anyone.”
Jennings turned to see Penny outside.
“I do see your point, Palmer, but Penny has had enough losses,” he said quietly before calmly moving to join the search.
“I lost Mr Pat today,” Penny said quietly to Thomas that night. The girls had invited her to sleep in their room—they did this every night—and Penny had wanted to, but not tonight. Tonight she needed to tell Thomas about her day.
Thomas, who had been readying for bed and thought Penny was already asleep, went to her side.
“But you had him at dinner, Penny.”
“Yes, we found him, but he was lost.”
Thomas heard the quiver in her voice and reached to smooth her small brow.
“Mr Jennings found him for me. He was on a wall in the garden.”
“I’m glad, Penny. Did you thank him?”
Penny bit her lip. She only remembered wanting to cry harder than ever when at last she felt the figurine in her hand.
Thomas suddenly wondered if it was wrong for her to be so attached to a small porcelain figure. He believed his father could have given him an answer, but he didn’t let his mind wander too far that way. Thomas was still wrestling with the idea when Mr Jennings knocked and entered.
“Everyone settled in?” he asked, his eyes scanning the occupants of the room with just one lantern turned low.
“Almost,” Thomas said as he stood, taking a moment to look back at Penny. “You can thank him now if you need to.”
Penny’s dark head nodded against the white pillow.
“Mr Jennings? she said quietly.
“Yes, Penny.” He came that way.
“Thank you for finding Mr Pat.”
“You’re welcome. He isn’t broken, is he?”
“No. His ear broke one time, and Papa fixed it.”
Jennings had no clue what to say to this, so he only smiled and stood.
Penny, not able to see his face in the dim light, just watched as he moved away. For some reason she wanted to cry again. She couldn’t have said why, but she watched with great relief as Mr Jennings quietly left and the room finally became dark. She turned her face into the pillow and cried tears that had long been delayed.
“I want you to pay special attention to verse seventeen,” Pastor Hurst said the next morning. “Jesus is at it again. He doesn’t give direct answers, but He asks questions. The young ruler here is not coming in humility and need, and Jesus is about to uncover this.”
A borrowed Bible open in his hands, Jennings searched to find where the Bible said this man was a ruler. He finally gave up and whispered the question to Palmer.
“That’s in the parallel passage in Luke 18. There is also an account in Mark 10.”
Immediately Jennings wondered how they could know which account was true but then was distracted when he felt eyes on him. He glanced over to find James studying him intently. The older man leaned close.
“What is it, James?”
“Are you well, Mr Jennings?”
“I am, thank you for asking.”
James smiled up at him for a moment and then shifted his eyes to the front. Jennings also began to pay attention, but not before he wondered what he must have looked like that James would ask such a thing.
“This young man is very sure of himself,” Pastor said next. “He’s come with every kind of preconceived notion. What he doesn’t understand is whom he’s talking to. He has no clue that the Man standing before him knows every inch of his heart.
“Tell me, friends, how often do you go to God with your mind made up? Oh, your plan is an honorable one. You’re praying for the needs of your neighbor or the salvation of a friend, but that friend is as godless as they come, and you don’t really believe God can save and rescue his kind.”
The pastor stopped and smiled.
“I’ve done this myself, and if I don’t keep careful watch on my heart, I’ll do it again. I go to God in prayer, but then I make the mistake of deciding ahead of time what I want His answer to be.”
Pastor Hurst kept on, but Jennings didn’t hear a lot of it. He wasn’t thinking so much about what the Bible passage had said as the way the pastor had just admitted his own weakness. Had he talked that way before? Jennings honestly couldn’t remember, but this time the man seemed a little less arrogant, a little less quick to condemn.
The service ended when Jennings wasn’t looking
, and when they stood to sing, he knew a moment of panic. They had not arrived early enough to speak with anyone, but now people would be moving around and talking. Jennings wasn’t sure he was up to talking with anyone. He determined to busy himself with the children, but that was before Palmer rescued him.
Not leaving his side for a moment, Palmer engaged his brother-in-law in general conversation, feeling a sense of contentment when the guarded look dropped from Jennings’ face altogether.
Lydia walked from the church steps and immediately spotted her younger son; he was standing on his own. She watched as he looked into the distance and approached him quietly.
“Hello.”
Walt turned to her.
“Hello.”
“You seem to be looking for someone.”
“I thought she would come.”
Lydia moved so she could tip Walt’s chin up and meet his eyes.
“Marianne is fine, but blackened eyes take time to lose their color. That’s the only reason she’s not here.”
Walt looked up at her, wanting to believe.
“You saw her two days ago, dear, and you know how well she’s doing. She would not wish you to worry.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She tells me I worry too much already.”
Lydia smiled and caught James hovering in the background. “Hello, James.”
“Does Walt wish to play?” the other boy asked.
“I think Walt could use a little cheering up right now, James. Can you help him with that?”
James smiled a little shyly, his head dipping as Walt came toward him.
“Come on, James,” Walt offered. “I’ll show you the spring.”
Lydia watched them walk away, still shaking her head in wonder that James, his siblings, and Jennings were in their lives at all.
Chapter Eight
Tipton
Jennings was on an outing with the four boys when the missive arrived. A horseman brought the news, his mount stirring dust for half a mile, and Palmer slipped him a coin before sending him on his way.
“What is it, Palmer?” Lydia asked when he came back inside; she was waiting in the foyer.
“It’s for Jennings, from London.”
“Shall we try to find him?”
Palmer consulted his pocket watch.
“They’ve been gone several hours. I think he’ll be returning soon.”
Palmer was right. Less than an hour later Jennings and the boys trooped back, eyes bright with adventure, and all proclaiming to be starved. Food, however, was the last thing on Jennings’ mind once he’d read the letter.
“Mrs Smith has been located,” Jennings informed Palmer and his sister.
“Is she the nanny you hired?”
“Yes. I’ll leave tonight. May I leave the children, Lydia?”
“Of course.”
“Talk to them, Jennings,” Palmer advised. “They’re old enough to understand what you’re about.”
Jennings nodded, and just ten minutes later he and the children were sequestered in the small salon.
“I’ve a letter from my man in London,” he told the children without delay. “The authorities have located Mrs Smith.”
Penny moved in a little closer to James, who stood next to her, something Jennings did not miss.
“Come here, Penny,” he said gently. “Do you remember what I told you in London?”
The little girl bit her lip, looking more uncertain than ever.
“I told you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again, and I meant that.”
Penny nodded, her small face sober.
“You will remain here, but I’m going to leave shortly.”
“If we don’t have to see Mrs Smith again,” James asked, “why are you going back, sir?”
“Because she must answer for the way she treated Penny and the way she misrepresented herself to me.”
“What will happen to her?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t know. The courts will have to decide.”
“But Penny won’t need to see her?”
“No. I’ll see to that.”
And with that the children would have to be satisfied. Jennings told them he would return as soon as possible and not to worry. The whole family saw him off and stood waving until his head disappeared inside the carriage.
Jennings finally sat back against the plush seat, his heart troubled by the timing of this trip. He’d been having a splendid time with the boys. They had all talked freely to him and not been afraid to speak to each other in his presence. There was something very guileless and open about all seven of these children, and Jennings was most eager to know them better. He’d been contemplating an outing with the little girls as soon as he could think of a plan, and now this.
Closing his eyes in hopes of gaining some extra sleep, he knew he would have to put all of his plans aside until a certain woman was made to answer for her deeds.
“Marianne!” Walt cried in delight on Tuesday morning when the children arrived at the breakfast table to find her waiting for them.
“Hello. Did you ever think you’d see me out again?”
Walt was too busy hugging her to answer.
Thomas, James, and Penny watched as Emma and Lizzy went for their hugs, and even as Frank went over to kiss Marianne’s cheek and greet her.
“I think some introductions are in order,” Lydia said when things settled down. “Marianne, this is Thomas Jennings, James Jennings, and Penelope Jennings, better known as Penny.
“Children, this is Miss Marianne Walker.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Walker.”
“Oh, that won’t do,” Frank said comically to Thomas. “Marianne is family. She won’t even answer us if we call her Miss Walker.”
Both Thomas and James smiled greatly over this when Marianne grinned and winked at them. Penny was quiet, but her young eyes were watchful.
“Shall we eat?” Lydia suggested. The children needed no other urging. A merry feast ensued, during which time plans unfolded for the day.
“Who’s up for gathering wildflowers in the fields?” Marianne asked.
Lizzy and Emma were enthusiastic, but the boys were on the quiet side.
“Not interested?” Lydia asked them.
“We were rather hoping to go riding, Mother,” Frank admitted, sending an apologetic smile in Marianne’s direction.
“All four of you?”
“Yes.”
Lydia looked more than a little skeptical over this.
“What if Father went with us?” Walt suggested.
“I think that would be fine, Walt, but I can’t answer for him. He had a meeting this morning, and I’m not sure how long he’ll be.”
“When did he leave?”
“Rather early.”
“Then he could be back anytime.”
Lydia smiled at her son’s optimism and let the matter drop.
“All right, ladies,” Marianne said to just the little girls. “It looks like it’s the four of us. When you’re done, gather baskets and bonnets and we’ll be off.”
The girls moved to leave, but Lydia stopped them.
“The flowers aren’t going anywhere. You need to finish eating.”
Emma looked as though she would protest, but with a glance at Penny she sat back and finished her meal.
Unbeknownst to Penny, Lydia and Marianne were keeping an eye on her as well. It wasn’t long before all the children were ready to leave the table, and when they did, Lydia wasted no time.
“Did you notice the way Penny watched you?”
“How could I miss it?” Marianne asked right back. “Do you think she had enough to eat?”
“Probably not. She seemed completely distracted by you.”
“Do you have any idea what she could be thinking?”
“I only wish I did. She’s a fascinating little child,” Lydia said thoughtfully, still staring at the place where Penny had been sitting. “One minute she’s playing along, doing
fine, and then another minute she’s looking worried but won’t talk about it to anyone but her brothers.”
“She’s been through so much in the last few months. The person she needs most isn’t here. It’s not hard to understand why she seems so unsettled.”
The older woman agreed with her, neither one of them knowing that in the next two hours Marianne would need to muster every drop of patience she could manage. Penny came along willingly to the fields to pick flowers, but after picking only a few, she stood staring at Marianne. Whenever Marianne would turn to her, Penny would drop her eyes in embarrassment. If Marianne tried to engage her in conversation, Penny kept her answers to a nod or shake of the head. Marianne exchanged glances with Lizzy and Emma on several occasions, and those little girls tried to include Penny, but at the moment, Penny was clearly in a world of her own. Marianne was beginning to think she would have to give up when a small matter came up.
“Tell her,” Marianne heard Emma say to Penny.
“Will you?”
“No, just tell Marianne. She’ll take care of you.”
Thinking she might need to step in, Marianne watched Penny hesitate, but then she surprised her by coming close and whispering, “I have to be excused.”
Marianne smiled.
“Shall we show her our secret place, girls?”
Emma and Lizzy nodded, eyes coming alive with mirth and excitement, before Marianne took Penny’s hand and began to lead her to the woods.
“I must tell you, Miss Penny,” Marianne began in a conspiratorial tone, “that when we just can’t make ourselves walk back to the house, we sneak this way to our secret place.”
Penny’s little eyes were huge as they looked up at the woman who was holding her hand, but she said not a word.
Walking with direct purpose, Marianne took the girls into the woods on a short path before cutting off and slipping into a secluded spot. The branches had done a work on everyone’s hair, but once inside the small cove formed by the bushes, Penny couldn’t help but notice it was spacious, completely surrounded by bushes and trees. It was also completely private.
“Here we are!” Marianne proclaimed in delight, and Penny found herself smiling.
“You can go right over here, Penny,” Lizzy directed, and suddenly everyone had the giggles.