“Show him in, Hobbs.” She wiped the linen napkin across her mouth.
Mr. Prescott strutted in, holding his hat against his chest. The thirty-five year old man had been managing the shipping business for nearly two years now. Although he had never really met her father, he still strived to do his best for their business. He would absolutely fall over dead if he knew she was the person who owned the business. As remarkable as it all happened to be, she was able to buy stocks in a company, and within time, she had purchased the business. She presented herself as her father’s accountant, and nobody seemed to question her in all this time.
No matter what happened, she must keep Mr. Prescott believing her father was still away.
“Good afternoon, Miss Parker. Forgive me for interrupting your lunch.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything. I just finished.” She pointed to the sofa. “Would you care to sit?”
“Thank you.” Mr. Prescott walked past her to the sofa and sat.
Ever since she brought Mr. Prescott into the business, Ella had noticed how sweet he was on her. She thought of him as a nice man, and he was slightly handsome, but she could never think of him as anything more than a friend. Yet, she couldn’t even think of him as that since she purposely withheld information from him.
She sat on the heavily cushioned chair next to the sofa. “How are things with the business? Are the ships being built without any serious issues?”
“Everything is running smoothly.” He smoothed out his mustache, a habit he did a lot in front of her. Why did he feel the need to bring attention to his facial hair all the time? “Your father’s ships are continuing to sell, and we are finding more additions to make to the ships so we can stay up to date on the growing competitors.”
“How wonderful.”
“That is why I’m here today. I need to speak with your father about one of the things we need to consider adding to the ships. Has he returned from his trip yet?”
“No, Mr. Prescott. I wish I could tell you when he’s coming back, but I cannot. I’m writing to my father and grandmother right now.” She pointed toward the table and the writing utensils still displayed. “I’ve asked my father to hurry home because he’s desperately needed here.”
Sighing, Mr. Prescott ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I wish I knew what kept your father away for so long.”
“Mr. Prescott, why can’t you make the decision about the new addition to the boats? After all, Father trusts your judgment. I’m certain he wouldn’t mind if you decided this one on your own.”
He reached over and touched her hand. “Do you really think so? This is quite a big decision. It would be expensive at first, but the results would be fabulous and would only enhance the ships, which of course means raising the prices slightly.”
Mr. Prescott had always taken the liberty to touch her in a casual way, but she had never felt right about it. Perhaps it was his age that bothered her the most, because everything else about him seemed fine. He was a strong man, tall and handsome, but not overly so. He’d always been polite and talkative to her. The other men she dealt with—in the name of her father—were always condescending toward her. Not Mr. Prescott. Sometimes she wondered if he had wanted to become more than friends. For certain, that wasn’t agreeable to her.
Slowly, she pulled away until he finally withdrew. “Yes, Mr. Prescott, I honestly believe my father would support your decision.” She shrugged. “Or you can wait until he returns, which we don’t know when that will be. In fact, would you be willing to deliver these letters to the post for me? That would certainly hurry up the process since I don’t know when I’ll be able to venture into town to take them myself.”
“Of course, Miss Parker. It would be my honor.”
She hurried back to the table and finished sealing the letters before handing them to him. Standing, he grinned wide and slid the letters into the pocket of his overcoat.
“I appreciate your support in this decision, Miss Parker. I’m certain everything will be perfect with the ships once the additions are made.” He reached out to caress the lobe of her ear.
She quickly moved away and walked to the window. “Indeed, you have my support.”
He moved toward her. “Miss Parker, since your father isn’t here for me to ask, may I be so bold as to call upon you tonight?”
Ella gulped, not knowing how to nicely discourage him. Then again, she didn’t want to be rude, either. Genuinely, she liked Mr. Prescott, but she didn’t want to like him that way. “Um, well—”
“I thought you would enjoy the opera this evening,” he quickly added.
She actually did like the opera, but she was still leery to be with Mr. Prescott alone. “As much as the idea is tempting, I fear my brother will be left by himself if I go with you.”
His forehead creased. “Where will your servants be?”
“They have it off.” She realized how quickly she was to answer, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“All of them?”
Her mind scrambled to come up with a logical explanation. “Usually my lady’s maid is here, but her mother is ill, and I told her she could visit her family. So really, tonight is simply out of the question.”
Distrust coated his gaze as he stared at her. “What about tomorrow?”
Ella wanted to slap herself for not thinking ahead. “I, uh...well, I suppose tomorrow would be fine. It all depends on how I feel.”
His smile widened. “Then I shall look forward to taking you to the opera tomorrow.” He took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
Inwardly, she groaned as her mind scrambled to come up with a reason to give him that would get her out of this. While he was truly a good fit for the shipping business, on a personal note, his overt attention made her jittery, and her mind refused to work.
This was not good at all.
SEVEN
It surprised Chris how well the children’s tests turned out. Beth and Sarah wrote up a remarkably good test for Billy and Nathaniel. It really wasn’t that hard, but it made the boys think about their answers, which was exactly what Chris had wanted. The boys grumbled the whole time taking it, but as Chris sat and graded the papers while the class was outside for their lunch break, he could see the boys would get passing grades after all. Even the test he’d written last night turned out to be pretty easy for the other children, according to their results, anyway.
Dare he question the light-hearted mood he’d had last night and even this morning? Before he’d met the very interesting Miss Parker, he’d been upset over Billy’s malicious prank. Yet after saving her from those men, his attitude had turned completely around.
From out of the slightly opened window, the children’s playful laughter drifted inside the room. He smiled. Although two months ago when he’d first started here, he’d wondered if this group of kids were going to drive him insane. But time spent as their teacher had made him a more patient and understanding person. He’d grown close to most of them, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of what he’d accomplished.
The noise from outside changed, and instead of playful voices, shouting could be heard over everything. Slowly the sound grew louder. Something wasn’t right, and he’d bet his fancy hat that Billy was behind it.
He sprang from his desk so fast, his chair fell over. He didn’t have time to pick it up now, so he quickened his step toward the back door. The double-doors stood open and he could see the commotion going on near the large oak tree. From what he could tell, the children were gathered in a circle watching...a fight!
Grumbling, he dashed down the steps and ran toward them. As he neared the crowd, he heard the names the other children were shouting, and he knew exactly which two boys were fighting. Just as he’d figured, Billy was behind this. Yet, why was he fighting his best friend, Nate?
He split the circle of friends and reached for the nearest boy. Chris grabbed an arm, yanking him up. Billy’s arms swung wildly, still
trying to hit his target, so Chris tightened his grip. “What’s going on here?” he shouted.
All at once, the children started telling him their version of the story in high-pitched voices. Confusion filled Chris and he shook his head, shouting, “Quiet.” His commanding voice silenced the melee instantly. He glanced at Billy. A little blood oozed from the kid’s bottom lip. His right eye appeared swollen. For certain, Billy would be sporting a bruise tomorrow.
Nathaniel, on the other hand, just had scratches all over his brightly freckled face and his shirt was ripped in three spots. Dirt had smeared all through his red hair, turning it to an almost dark auburn color. Both boys breathed heavily as they glared at each other. From the beaten face of the one boy and bloody knuckles of the other, Chris could tell who had learned how to fight and who hadn’t.
He grasped Nate’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Both of you are coming inside with me now.” He ran his gaze briefly over the others. “The rest of you stay out here and finish your lunch break. I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”
As he marched the two protesting boys back to the schoolhouse, Chris fumed. For years he’d heard the phrase, boys will be boys, and yet he somehow expected more from these children.
He practically shoved the boys inside the room after they’d entered. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to their desks.
Once the boys plopped into their seats, Chris paced the floor in front of them, eyeing each one carefully. “So who wants to tell me what happened?”
Oddly enough, both were quiet. They didn’t even look at the other.
“Nate? Did Billy start the fight?”
Billy gasped and jumped to his feet. “Why do you always blame me?”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Probably because you’re usually the ringleader.” He shrugged. “So if you didn’t start the fight, what happened?”
Billy glared at him with piercing blue eyes, reminding Chris of what Ella’s had looked like when they talked that afternoon right here in this room. She’d been so irritated at him for suggesting Billy help Mr. Sprat at his farm. Chris shook the image out of his head. He couldn’t think of Billy’s sister at a time like this. He must concentrate on the matter at hand.
The young Mr. Parker didn’t respond. He frowned and stared at his feet. Naturally, from his actions, this told Chris what he needed to know. Billy did start the fight, just as he’d suspected.
“Nate? I thought you and Billy were friends. Why would you want to hit him?”
The thirteen-year-old boy blew out a frustrated breath between his lips. “Billy pushed me first.”
“Why?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know.” Nate held his hands up. “We were talking about doing things for the weekend. I told Billy my father was taking me out on his boat and we were going fishing. Next thing I know, Billy was yelling at me and calling me names.”
Chris glowered at Billy. “What names did you call him?”
Billy jerked away from Chris and kept silent, so he moved his attention back to Nate.
Nate’s bottom lip trembled. “He called me a baby. He said I’m a baby for going with my father.”
“Billy? Did you say that to him?”
“Yes,” Billy snapped, but still kept his gaze on the floor.
Chris leveled his focus back to Nate. “Then what happened?”
“I told him that he was just jealous because my father does things with me, but Billy’s father is never home. And it’s true.”
“No it’s not!” Billy spun around and lunged toward Nate, but Chris reacted quickly and caught him before he could pounce on the younger boy.
“That’s enough, Billy.” Chris motioned with his head toward the door. “Nate, you are excused to go outside and finish your lunch. I need to have a talk with Billy now.”
The boy left the room rubbing his hands through his messy hair, causing some of the dirt and twigs to fall to the floor. The two boys must have been rolling on the ground a lot longer than Chris first suspected.
Slowly, he expelled a breath as he mentally reminded himself he needed more patience with Billy. For some reason, the boy was very touchy when it came to his father. Ella had mentioned once that their mother had died, leaving their father to raise them alone. Could Billy act this way because his father didn’t spend enough time with him? That would certainly explain why he’d gotten so upset at his friend, Nate.
Chris waited until Billy was back in his seat before he sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms. “Do you want to tell me your side?”
“No.” Billy’s voice broke.
A tear had leaked from the boy’s eye, but he didn’t brush it off his dirty face, leaving a streak down his dirty cheek. Chris’s heart wrenched. He knew what Billy was feeling right now. Many times in Chris’s own life, he’d wished for a real father—the kind normal boys had.
“Billy, I know what it’s like to be without a father. Even though I know your father loves you, other things take him away. My father did the same thing to me.”
The young Mr. Parker’s watery gaze jumped up and met with Chris. The boy’s bottom lip quivered as he slowly shook his head.
“But you don’t understand, Mr. Morgan.”
“Then help me understand. Let me know what you’re feeling. Maybe I’ll be able to identify with you better.”
“My f-father...” Billy sniffed and rubbed the cuff of his sleeve under his nose. “My father can’t spend time with me.”
“Yes, I know, but I’m sure he wants to.” Chris moved from his desk and closer to Billy. He knelt on one knee, resting his arm on the boy’s desk. “I’m sure your father wishes he had more time—”
“No,” Billy cried out as he jumped to his feet. “You don’t understand. He can’t. He’s not...he’s not...”
He started crying, and pushed pass Chris, knocking him to the floor. He scrambled to stand, but it was too late. Billy was already out the door.
Chris’s chest clenched. Poor boy. A lot was troubling him. It appeared Chris would have to make another visit to the Parker mansion.
Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn’t shake the euphoria that filled him at the thought of seeing Ella. It surprised him. He hoped she would be able to enlighten him to her brother’s problems. Maybe between the two of them, they could figure out the best way to help Billy.
ELLA BACKED AWAY FROM Mr. Prescott, but the persistent man kept coming closer. Blast it all, did she have to slap his face to get her message to him loud and clear? Getting his attention like that might be the only way she could make him to stop his advances.
“And after the opera, I thought of taking you to this fine restaurant that serves some of the best French cuisine in all of the land. I’m certain you will be very pleased with my selection.”
She rolled her eyes. His selection? Did that mean he didn’t care what she wanted to order? She had an idea which restaurant he was referring to, and there were many dishes she enjoyed tasting. However, she wanted to be the one to choose them, not him.
Her stomach churned with the idea of spending any amount of time with this selfish man on such an outing. Over the years, she’d abhorred men who thought she shouldn’t have an opinion of her own. She couldn’t stand the ones who insisted they think for her. Obviously, Mr. Prescott was just like the others.
His brown eyes sparked with the familiar glimmer she’d seen before. Her last beau, Robert, had looked at her this way and she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. If Mr. Prescott had the same plans spinning in his head as Robert had, she couldn’t wait to disappoint him. And she for certain wouldn’t do it nicely.
She sidestepped him and headed to the door, hoping that he’d follow so that she could usher him outside. “It all sounds wonderful, Mr. Prescott, but as I said before, I’ll have to see what tomorrow brings before I can give a definite answer. I shall send word in the morn if I will accept your invitation for tomorrow evening.”
He nodded. “Then I shall remain ho
peful and watch for your message.”
As she opened the door, Billy stumbled into the parlor. Startled, she jumped back. Tears streaked her brother’s dirty face, but it was the bruised eye and cut lip that worried her more. She grasped his shirt, running her gaze over his disheveled appearance again. “What in Heaven’s name happened to you?”
Tears swam in his eyes as he shook his head. “I almost told Mr. Morgan the truth. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. I know what would happen if I tell him...or anyone.”
She hitched a breath. He could only be talking about one thing. The secret.
“Oh, my dear Billy.” She pulled him against her and pressed his head against her middle. She needed to shut him up before he said anymore in Mr. Prescott’s presence. She couldn’t have her business associate knowing the truth. “It’s all right. We shall discuss this after Mr. Prescott leaves.”
Billy’s body stiffened and he turned his head to look at their visitor. Her brother lifted his gaze to hers and his face paled. “I don’t think I can keep this a secret any longer, Ella.”
“Shhh...” She quickly pressed his head back into her gown. “It’s all right. I’ll help you with your problem.” Taking a deep breath, she moved her focus to the older man. “Mr. Prescott, as you can see, my brother is out of sorts and needs my undivided attention right now. I hope you don’t mind showing yourself out.”
“Uh, well, I suppose—” Mr. Prescott stammered.
“Thank you so much for coming over. And please don’t forget to mail those letters for me.” She offered a forced smile as she waited for him to leave. He shifted in his stance, glanced around the room a few times, and toyed with the curly ends of his mustache. Finally, he looked at her and nodded before leaving.
When the door closed, Ella expelled a heavy breath and tightened her arms around her brother. Worry still surged through her, and seeing her brother’s breakdown made her fret even more. Billy was too young to deal with what had happened to their family, but right now secrecy was their only option. How could she help him through this when she had a hard time with it as well?
Keep on Believing Page 7
