If You Keep Me: A Prequel Christmas Second Chance Romance (A Sugar Maple Novel)

by Ciara Knight

  He worried that Rosie could be disappointed again. She wanted children so badly, and this might be their only opportunity, so that morning, he marched into the general store to face Mr. Mason, the man who’d upset his wife.

  Despite the few people mulling around in the store, Vic couldn’t wait. He needed to make things right. But he took a moment to soothe his temper, not wanting to back Mr. Mason into a corner. When he had come into the store a week or so ago and asked for him to carry rubbers, Mr. Mason had accused him of cheating on Rosie. That’s when Vic winked and said, “I guess we’re cheating with each other.” The man had turned all shades of purple.

  “Mr. Mason.” Vic forced a calmness to his tone. “I’d like to speak to you in regard to the matter of the children.”

  “Nothing to discuss. I called the Tennessee Children’s Home Society to have them placed in real houses.” Mr. Mason continued stocking a shelf until he went to help a customer.

  Vic waited for another moment until the man finished and tried once more. “I believe there’s something to discuss, sir. You upset my wife.”

  “Did I? Perhaps she realized her husband’s licentious tendencies.”

  Milk from breakfast curdled in his stomach. “Sir, I assure you that is not the case.”

  “Well, maybe if you gave her children of your own, you wouldn’t be inclined to keep such delinquents around here.”

  The precarious hold on his temper slipped, and he rounded on Mr. Mason. The man backed behind the large wooden counter, forcing room between them. “Enough. I came in here to speak to you peacefully, but you are determined to be an ignorant fool. I will ask, sir, that you do not go to my home and verbally assault my wife.”

  His pale skin turned green, and he shook his head with eyes the size of Necco Wafers. A moment passed with his gaze darting to his patrons in the shop before he straightened his apron and stood tall. “I assure you I would never speak to a lady in such a manner.” He smiled at Mrs. Heltand, the owner of the old diner, at the edge of the counter with a pinched expression.

  “So you did not knock on my door and then threaten my wife that you have called the authorities on us because you feel that it’s a problem that we’re helping the lost and forgotten children of Sugar Maple?”

  A gasp from Mrs. Heltand and a handkerchief to her mouth told Vic he’d made an impression on her, if not Mr. Mason.

  “Mr. Mason, we are a town that care for our own.” Mrs. Heltand apparently decided she was done shopping, about-faced, and marched from the store.

  “Wait. You misunderstand. The children are criminals, stealing and causing mischief.” Mr. Mason abandoned the safety behind the counter and chased after his fleeing customer, but Vic blocked his path, causing him to step back once more.

  The little girl who had been the source of the man’s true concern popped her head out. “Papa, Davey isn’t a criminal. He’s nice.”

  As if Mr. Mason recalled the true reason he wanted the children away, he snapped into a stone-cold face and pointed at Vic. “Those children are a menace. If they step foot near my store again, then, I’ll call the police.”

  Vic silently chastised himself, realizing the man would protect his own daughter at any cost. Rosie was right. He’d send the children away if he had the chance.

  “There’s no reason. The children are gone.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Winter hit with a vengeance, but they were sheltered on the back porch where Davey, Eva, and Rosie huddled together around a coffee table sanding. The phone inside the house shrilled, calling Rosie inside.

  Davey’s gaze shot to the door, and even though his oversized new coat covered his body, she could see his frame stiffen.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I’ll be right back.” She went inside and answered, “Hello?”

  “Rosie, make sure the kids remain at the house. You were right. Mr. Mason wouldn’t listen to reason. I’ll come home at lunch to discuss this with the children. Can you handle keeping them there until then?”

  Rosie wanted to tell her husband he should’ve believed her when she warned him not to push Mr. Mason, but now wasn’t the time. “Certainly. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She hung up and took a moment to steady her nerves so the children wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “Mrs. B, what’s wrong?” Little Eva tugged on her pants with sad eyes and a pink face from being outside helping Davey as he instructed her what to do.

  “Nothing, darling. That was Mr. B. He asked if you guys would stay here to help me today. He’s a fuddy duddy and thinks I work too much. Do you think you can stay here with me today?”

  “Sure!” She took off in that awkward run where she sent her body before her feet could keep up. “We’re staying here today.”

  The two other girls sat in the living room darning socks the way Rosie had showed them at Davey’s insistence. If she was correct, the two girls didn’t want to be outside anymore, so they were happy with their new jobs. They were tired of living on the streets but would never betray Davey.

  Betty held up her sock. “How am I doing?”

  Rosie looked at the crooked work and smiled at the raven-haired girl with dark eyes. “Perfect.”

  “I don’t know how Davey rips his clothes and his toes go through his socks so much,” Gina protested with a little extra drama. She reminded Rosie of Jane Wyman she’d seen in The Lost Weekend a couple of weeks ago. So much had changed since the night of their big date, but she’d found that she’d warmed to the new life easily, despite the still-empty feeling inside her.

  “He’s lucky to have you both.” Rosie patted Gina on her white hair and enjoyed the shine in her big blue eyes.

  Reggie worked on fixing the old, broken radio he’d found in the shed out back. Rosie could picture him as an engineer who worked on one of those new fancy dams or something. “Did you get it working yet?”

  “Not yet. But I’m close.” He picked up a wrench and tightened something, so she left him to his efforts to return to Davey outside. Even with his help, she hoped they’d finish in time. They’d need the money if they were to keep the children fed and cared for until they were old enough to care for themselves.

  Davey shot up and narrowed his gaze when she went outside. “Bad news?”

  “No, actually. I’m happy about this.” She closed the door behind her and let out a breath that showed white in the cold. “I’m only worried you won’t like it.”

  Davey flipped the chair onto its feet and wiped his hands. “What won’t I like?”

  Rosie knew Vic would want to be here to discuss this with Davey, but the boy would never rest until he knew the truth. She took the two chairs on which the stain had already dried and put them in front of each other. “Please, sit.”

  Davey hopped up into the chair and removed his hat. “What’s wrong?”

  Rosie took both his hands. “I know you don’t like to be contained in a traditional home and that you prefer your freedom, but can I ask you for a favor for a few days?”

  “Mr. Mason reported us, didn’t he?” Davey swished his lips. “Sorry Melba has a papa so harsh. He won’t even let her outside to play.”

  Rosie squeezed his fingers to keep his attention on what was important. “I understand, but I can’t help her. The only thing I can do is keep you, Reggie, Betty, Eva, and Gina safe. And the only way I can do that is if you agree to stay here with Vic and me through Friday. That’s when the social worker will arrive and decide whether or not to take all of you away.”

  Davey shot from the chair. “Gotta go. Not going to that place again, and neither’s my family.”

  Rosie scooped him into her arms, but his feet continued to air walk. “Calm down. I won’t let that happen, and you don’t have to run. I promise I won’t make you stay; the minute the social worker leaves, you can return to the store and streets. This is temporary, I promise.”

  Davey stopped running and turned his head to look up at her. “Three days. Then we go if things are s
till bad.”

  She hoped during those three days he’d learn to love being safe and warm inside her home. “Thank you, Davey.” She loosened her grip and set him on his feet but didn’t let go in fear he’d still take off.

  “But if she tries to take me, I run.” Davey pushed from her embrace, picked up his hat that had fallen to the floor, and returned to work.

  And work he did for three days. Three days of her not sleeping or eating, waiting for some person to come to their house and take the children away. By Friday morning, she was exhausted, and her head pounded. The fever had festered and grown over the last few days, but she wouldn’t tell anyone. Not now. There was no time for her to rest.

  “Go back to bed, Rosie,” Vic begged “You’re pale.”

  But there was no way Rosie would abandon her protective post. Instead, she made coffee and fixed breakfast for the kids. The caffeine perked her up enough to shoo Vic to the store. “Promise to call me the minute that woman leaves town.”

  “I promise. Don’t worry. There are so many children who need homes. I’ll work out the details with her today.”

  Rosie kissed his cheek and sent him on his way, and then she joined Davey, who was already working. The boy worked harder than anyone she’d ever met. “Why don’t you take a break and get warm for a while. Drink some coffee by the fire.”

  “No. Don’t need to.”

  That’s when she realized the poor child was as frightened about this woman’s arrival as she was. She’d tried to shield them from the reality, but Davey was too smart for that. “Listen, everything will be fine. Vic and I won’t let you be taken from Sugar Maple.” Rosie knew she shouldn’t say what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help herself. If the orphanages were really that bad, then the arrangement of him hiding at the store or in their home when the weather was bad and her providing clothes and food and an education had to be better. “Davey, I want you to promise me something. If they try to take you, run and hide at the fort you kids made in the woods. It’ll be safe there until I can come and get you. Once she’s gone, we can return to how things were. Deal?”

  “Deal.” He gave a curt nod and went to work once more.

  After a few hours of sanding and painting, her throat was raw, her hands trembled, and she thought she’d collapse from exhaustion. She stood, but her knees wobbled under her.

  “You don’t look good.” Davey was at her side, guiding her toward a chair, but her head spun and everything went dark. Her knees hit the ground hard. All her energy drained. “I’m going to get help.”

  “No. Don’t go.” Rosie tried to shout, but only a whisper managed to come out. She wanted to tell him she’d be fine and that he needed to stay hidden, but it was too late. Davey had already vanished.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The toy shop was quiet in the early hours. Too quiet. Vic missed Davey and the little ones underfoot throughout the day. He couldn’t wait to have them back helping him in the shop. Although, Davey had taken more of an interest in Rosie’s work than his own. That was okay though. They’d be in the back room working nearby while the little ones helped him. The customers a taken a liking to Gina and her big personality in such a little frame.

  For now, he needed to show he was a guardian who could provide and care for children. Having them work all day in his store probably wouldn’t give the best starting impression. That being said, he was still nervous about the strain of children on Rosie. He’d hoped to ease her into life with little ones. Perhaps he’d have them all in school soon. That would help lift the burden from Rosie. Davey and the others had been too far behind, and Vic didn’t want them to start until they could do the basics. Vic had taught them the alphabet and some words, but Rosie had done a great job teaching them reading, writing, and arithmetic. Of course, it would take some convincing to ever get Davey into a classroom.

  A car pulled up out front, sending a blast of prickles all over his skin. He took a deep breath, looked in the small mirror behind the register, and adjusted his coat and tie. With shaking hands, he lifted the thermos and poured two steaming cups of coffee and then placed them on the table he’d cleaned. Despite his and Rosie’s work logically spewing sawdust everywhere, he wanted the place immaculate.

  From the brief phone call he’d had from the orphanage, the woman, Ms. Tann, who ran the Tennessee Children’s Society was powerful and well connected. She decided the fate of all the children and their prospective parents.

  Ms. Tann’s heels clicked against the sidewalk, and she slid on the icy front walk despite the salt he’d spread. She was dressed nicer than he’d expected in a fancy, fur-collared coat and hat. He shook off his musings and scrambled to the door, where he ushered her inside away from the cold. “Please, come in Ms. Tann.”

  The woman dusted the snow from her coat and grunted. “Ms. Cramer. I’m here on behalf of the Tennessee Children’s Home Society. Ms. Tann resides in Memphis. We do not usually travel this far, but Mr. Mason called us directly and stated there were five babies in need of homes.”

  Ms. Cramer smelled of expensive perfume, and her hair was well kempt. “I’m afraid there has been some miscommunication. They’re children, not babies.”

  Her lips turned down and her eyes narrowed on the two cups of coffee. That’s when he realized what she reminded him of: a commanding officer—cold-faced, rigid posture, with an air of superiority. Not at all what he expected from a childcare professional.

  “Mr. Bessler, this is not a social call.” She adjusted her handbag and lifted her chin. “We do not travel this far to pick up neglected children on a daily basis. Babies are easier to place. The older children are a different matter. What are their ages?”

  Vic dabbed at the perspiration gathering at his hairline. “Please sit.” He pointed to the stools awaiting them, but her upturned lip told him she was not interested. Based on her scrunched nose, someone would think she was concerned about contracting diphtheria from it.

  Lines appeared around the woman’s pursed lips. “I’ll repeat my question. How many children and what are their ages, sir?” She pulled a small notebook from her purse and scribbled something.

  “I, um, don’t know, actually. I would say between six and ten.”

  She shook her head and tsked. “Hmm, the six might be placeable. Ten is much too old. What do they look like? Are they blond and blue-eyed?”

  Her questions were disconcerting, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse, so he answered. “Some are.” Vic mustered his courage to approach a subject he wasn’t positive was the right answer for them all, but it was the only answer. Was it too soon for Rosie? Despite his fears, it wouldn’t hurt to have all the facts. “May I ask, what would it take for a solid, upstanding husband and wife to adopt the children?”

  “All five?” she asked in a shriek.

  Vic felt his bad knee go weak, but he didn’t want to lean on anything to let her know his deficiencies that could cause her to doubt his ability to guardian the children. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The air smelled of sawdust, coffee, and judgement as Ms. Cramer walked around the store and ran her white-gloved finger along the counter, making him feel like he was back in the barracks for inspection. “Sir, I’m afraid you would not be able to afford five children.”

  “We make a modest living since I returned from the war, but business is picking up. We also have another lucrative revenue stream selling furniture in Clinton. My wife is a delightful cook, and she is a genius seamstress. Each of the kids have been fed and clothed and cared for since we discovered them behind our shop.”

  “So, no relatives?” she asked, but the way her tone dipped made him uneasy.

  “No relatives that I’m aware of at this time.” He felt his anger rise, but he punched it down so as not to show his temper. “As I was saying, we will have the means to care for our children.”

  “Our children?” Her brow lifted disapprovingly.

  “All I mean to say is that the children are safe and happy
with us and we have the means to care for them.”

  “And what happens when you have more children of your own?”

  Her question hung in the air like a million mosquitos buzzing in his ear, irritating, itchy, impending. “We cannot have our own children.”

  She offered her first glimpse as a human with compassion. “I’m sorry.” It only lasted a brief moment before she recovered and said, “Then it’s settled. Where are the little ones? I’ll take them with me now.”

  “You haven’t told me how to adopt them ourselves,” he said, his tone dipping to agitation.

  She squared her shoulders to him. “As I said, you can’t afford five children, sir.”

  “And as I said, ma’am, we are able to provide for them.”

  “And the 700 dollars per child that you need to pay for the adoption?”

  His throat closed, skin stung, breath trapped below the weight of a Sherman tank. “Wh-What?”

  “That’s right, Mr. Bessler. There are fees involved in adoption. Can you pay $3,500 now to keep the children in your home?”

  He scanned the room, as if to find a leprechaun with a magical pot of gold. “No. I cannot.”

  “Then show me to the children.” She headed for the door, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t send them away. Davey would never allow it; he’d insist they all stay together until they were ripped apart at the orphanage and he ended up back on the streets.

  “They’re gone.” He stood there with a blank face, the way he did when he was interrogated about missing supplies that he’d taken for the starving people of a tiny French village. He never thought anything would be more frightening than facing the enemy or a court martial, but this was terrifying.

  “Sir, do not lie to me.” Ms. Cramer marched to a position of power two steps from him and scrunched her brows together. “Tell me where the youngest children are.”

  He decided to channel his inner Ray Milland and put on a performance to get this lady gone. With his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, he mumbled, “I didn’t want you to know in fear you wouldn’t let us keep the children, but when Mr. Mason reported them and they discovered you were going to come here to take them away, they scattered. We’ve been unable to find them.”