by Danni Roan
“We’re never allowed to do anything fun,” the boy spoke to his pet. “Uncle Jonas is up there on the roof right now, and I’m stuck here like some little kid.”
Jonas lifted his eyes to the ceiling above him and sighed. “I bet you can see forever from up there. I could get a real idea of what this place is like and where everything is.”
He traced another pattern into the dirt, resting his chin in his hands and placing his elbow on his knee. He would hide out here while everyone else finished the chores. It could be his clubhouse and he would let Hebbie have the run of the place.
***
Hester raced down the stairs calling for Jonas, her heart filled with fear, all manner of terrifying thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. What if Jonas had fallen down the stairs? What if some snake or other dangerous animal lived in the basement?
“Jonas!” she called again, the name turning to a scream as her heel caught on a broken board and she plunged head first into the darkness below.
“Hester!” Mrs. August ran to the door leading down to the cellar as the young woman’s scream echoed into the kitchen above. “Hester, what’s happened?” A cold dread raced down the housekeeper’s spine at the silence that replied.
“Mr. Payton,” Mrs. August called running out the back door, panic on her heels. “Mr. Payton, help!”
“What’s wrong?” Cecil grabbed the porch rail swinging up the stairs and into the house.
“Hester,” Mrs. August pointed at the door. “She was looking for Jonas and ran down stairs. I heard her scream and then nothing.”
Cecil felt his blood run cold as he strode into the kitchen snatching the cold lamp from the table and striking a match. “I’ll find her, you keep looking for Jonas.”
Cecil pulled the cellar door wide, taking a step forward as he lifted the lamp. Ragged cobwebs and draping dust filled filament dribbled from the rafters like sad confetti, but Cecil pressed on. He should have been down here already. He should have known that sooner or later someone, maybe even one of the children would be overcome with curiosity.
“Please God, let them be safe,” Cecil whispered. “They both need to be okay.”
As the circle of light advanced in front of him Cecil scanned the stairs below. Several were cracked, but he couldn’t see far enough ahead to know what lay further down.
“Hester?” he called, his voice sounding hushed in the dank air. “Jonas?”
A soft shuffle caught his ear, and Cecil turned focusing the light of the lamp in that direction.
A sad meow drew him further on and he gasped as he spied Hester crumpled at the bottom of the long flight of stairs. Stepping over the broken riser, Cecil hurried toward the young woman, placing the lamp on the earthen floor.
“Hester,” he called softly, grasping her shoulders and rolling her toward him. Her limp body moved easily, and he gasped at the trickle of blood coming from just above her hairline. “Hester, wake up.” Cecil’s voice hitched in his throat, and he quickly placed his fingers along her throat sighing when a strong steady pulse vibrated through them.
“Cecil!” Hyke’s heavy foot falls on the stairs made the younger man look up, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light in Hyke’s hand.
“Here, Hyke.” Cecil shifted Hester, slipping his hands under her back. “Help me with Hester. I think she fell.”
Hyke groaned a deep fearful sound that hit Cecil in the heart like an arrow. “Is she?” the words died on the old man’s lips.
“She’s alive,” Cecil said bracing himself and lifting Hester in his arms. “Follow me up, so I don’t trip.”
Hyke spun, still holding the light high as Cecil began climbing the stairs, his light burden clutched close to his heart. Reaching out with his free hand, Hyke braced against Cecil as he stepped over the broken stair.
“The couch,” Mrs. August snapped as the men emerged from the cellar, a silent cat slinking behind them. “I’ll fetch water.”
Cecil obeyed without question carrying Hester through to the large living area to the horsehair sofa where he laid her down with great care.
“Out of the way,” Mrs. August was all business, and the men jumped to comply, stepping back and watching as the housekeeper began dabbing at Hester’s wound. “She’s alive, thank the Good Lord, but a bump to the head can be tricky. Are there any broken bones?”
Cecil turned to Hyke who shook his head. “I’m not sure,” Mr. Payton replied.
“You need to go look for Jonas,” Mrs. August continued, all efficient business. “The boy needs to be found.”
“I’ll go up, you go down,” Hyke turned speaking to Cecil, his dark eyes full of worry.
Cecil nodded turning back toward the kitchen.
“Uncle Cecil?” Jonas walked slowly down the stairs looking into the living room. “I’ve lost Hebbie,” he continued walking up to his uncle who stared at him in disbelief. “What happened to Hester?”
Cecil grasped the boy in a fierce hug pulling him tight, ignoring the boy’s dusty clothing and disheveled hair. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Hester was looking for you in the cellar.” Cecil’s voice hitched. “She fell.”
“I was in the attic,” Jonas replied. “I’m going to make a clubhouse, and Mark and Georgie can play there with me.” The boy pulled from his uncle’s arms stepping up to the sofa and taking Hester’s limp hand. “Is Hester gonna die?” The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t let Hester die.”
“She’s not going to die,” Mrs. August snapped, starting slightly as the skinny calico wrapped around her ankles with a purr. “Go fetch your sister to take the cat,” she finished. “I’ll take good care of Hester.”
Jonas raced out of the room bellowing for his sister, the front door slamming seconds later as he went in search of Beverly. Today had not gone the way he would have liked. “God, let Hester be okay,” he called. “I promise I won’t let Hebbie out again if she doesn’t want me to, just let her be okay.”
“Who are you talking to,” Beverly walked around the end of the house, a nanny goat on her heels.
“God,” the boy replied. “Hester fell down and won’t wake up. I don’t want Hester to die.”
Beverly reached out hugging her little brother. “Hester is strong. I’m sure she’ll be all right, but I’ll pray too, just the way she showed us.”
Chapter 21
Hester opened her eyes looking around her at the living room in confusion. “Jonas!” she cried pushing up only to have her head spin.
“Jonas is fine,” Cecil’s voice was a comforting sound that Hester clung to as she collapsed back onto the couch. “What happened?”
“You fell down the stairs,” Cecil moved to her side, kneeling and taking her hand. “Your uncle is attacking the cellar now as if he intends to punish it for doing you harm.” The man’s soft smile buoyed Hester’s spirits. “I’ll call him for you.”
“No, wait,” Hester clung to his hand. “Where was Jonas? Is he alright?”
Cecil felt his heart melting at Hester’s words. She had nearly met her own demise and her first thoughts were for his nephew. “He was in the attic, sulking. He and Beverly are up there now looking for his snake. I just hope the cat doesn’t find Hebbie first.” Mr. Payton smiled. “Jonas swears he’ll never let his slithering pet out of the jar again if you’ll get better.”
“They are good children,” Hester offered wearily. “Just have faith that they’ll grow into who they need to be.”
“I will if you’ll continue to help me.” Cecil squeezed her hand again as he pushed to his feet. “I’m going to call Hyke. He’s been worried sick.”
Hester sagged back onto the sofa, letting him go. Jonas was safe that was all that mattered. How could Mr. Payton think she would leave the children as long as they needed her? As long as he trusted her to do what was best for them?
“You’re looking better,” Mrs. August walked into the room carrying a tray with a small tea pot, cup and
toast. “You need to eat and get back your strength.”
“Thank you,” Hester carefully pushed herself upright letting the housekeeper place the tray over her lap, surprised when the older woman made a fuss, propping her up with pillows.
“You gave us quite a fright,” Mrs. August turned straightening little items in the room. “I’m glad you’re not badly injured.”
Hester nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and setting the cup back on the tray. Mrs. August had been against her since Mr. Payton had made her governess over the children. The stalwart housekeeper seemed to believe that Hester was putting herself above her station, and had made that perfectly clear. Perhaps there was hope that the two women could become friends after all.
“I know I didn’t trust your motivation in the beginning,” Mrs. August lifted her chin, her sharp features harsh above the high collar of her familiar black dress. “Today you did more than prove that you’re truly dedicated to the children. I’m sorry.”
Hester smiled looking up to meet the older woman’s eyes. “I do care for the children,” she spoke. “I never intended being anything but a cleaning woman at the house, but things rather took on a life of their own. All I can say is if I take something on, I do my very best. Always.”
Mrs. August smiled, giving one shake of her head. “I’ll check on the children while you rest,” the older woman stated, walking out of the room in a rustle of skirts.
“Hester!” The children rushed down the stairs, the thunder of their feet and high cry of their voices, shooting straight through her head only moments later.
“Mrs. August told us you were awake. How are you? Do you need anything? What can we do?”
Hester smiled reaching out and taking the children’s hands in hers. “Could you be a little quieter?” she asked. “I have a terrible headache.”
“Sorry,” both children whispered.
Something warm plopped onto Hester’s lap and she jumped with fright until she noticed it was just the cat.
“Minny, get down,” Beverly chided reaching for the cat who had pushed her face up to Hester’s.
“Minny?” Hester asked reaching out and stroking the cat.
“Jonas started calling her Skinny Minny, so that’s what we call her. Of course she isn’t as skinny as she was before.”
Hester chuckled. “No between all the treats you give her, and what appears to be an unending supply of mice, she is doing well. How are the kittens?”
“Their eyes are open now,” Jonas ginned. “They are very squirmy.”
“That reminds me,” Hester met the boy’s dark eyes. “Did you find Hebbie?”
“Yes, he’s safe in his jar again. Uncle Cecil said Minny might kill him if she though he would eat her kittens, but that is silly, he’s far too small to swallow a whole kitten.”
“Still,” Hester spoke kindly, “Hebbie is far safer in his jar. I hope you realize that.”
“I do, but I like for him to be able to hunt on his own sometimes.”
“Maybe we can get him a bigger glass cage later,” Beverly suggested. “Like the ones they had at the zoo.”
“Really!” Jonas’s eyes went wide. “Let’s go ask Uncle Cecil.” Jonas dashed off before anyone could reply leaving Hester and Beverly alone.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” the girl said. “We promise to do better if you’ll stay. I know Jonas didn’t want anything to happen to you.” Beverly’s eyes swam with tears.
“It’s all right,” Hester reached for the girl pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t like saying good-bye,” Beverly sniffed. “I miss Mama and Papa and don’t want to leave anyone else, ever again.”
“Good-byes are part of life,” Hester soothed. “But there are also wonderful hellos. I know I would be a poorer soul without knowing you and Jonas.”
“And Uncle Cecil,” Bev insisted.
“And your uncle as well. We all ended up here for a reason, Beverly,” she smoothed the girl’s strawberry blonde hair and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll figure out what that is in time. For now we simply have to do the things set before us to the best of our ability.”
Beverly nodded, her tenderness zinging straight to Hester’s heart. She hadn’t expected to fall in love with these spoiled children the day she had stepped into the fancy brownstone in the city, but she was glad she had.
***
A strange rattle and clatter made Hester look up then turn toward the door as the sound of women’s voices drifted through the open windows.
“Someone’s coming!” Beverly darted to the door and peered out. “It’s a carriage, no, two carriages.” The girl turned back to Hester who peered at her over the back of the sofa.
“Hello!” A familiar voice tumbled through the over grown yard and into the house. “Is anyone home?”
“Miss Polly!” Beverly raced out the door before Hester could call her back. “What are you doing here? Who are all these ladies? Is Alyssa with you?”
Hester chuckled at the girl’s assault on the old boardinghouse keeper. Carefully placing the tea tray on the coffee table, Hester twisted placing her feet on the hard wood floor and pushed herself upright. The next second she sat blinking as her head spun. She didn’t even remember sitting down.
“Come on in,” Beverly seemed to be inviting the visitors inside. “Hester, look who has come to visit.”
Hester tried to rise again, but sat back down abruptly.
“Are you unwell?” Polly hurried to the sofa, another older woman on her heels.
“Hester fell down the cellar stairs when she was looking for Jonas,” Beverly answered quickly.
“Dear heavens,” the woman with Mrs. Olson gasped. “Are you hurt?”
Hester looked up into dark eyes and smiled. “I’m afraid I bumped my head.”
“You should see a doctor,” the woman peered at her carefully. “Harlan, Harlan!” she shouted, making Hester cringe, as the woman hurried back outside.
“That’s Maud,” Polly said, more quietly. “She’ll ask her husband Harlan Dixon to fetch Doc Walker. You can’t be too careful with a bump to the head.”
“Mrs. Olson,” Mrs. August walked out of the kitchen drying her hands on a towel. “I’m afraid we aren’t in a fit state to entertain guests.”
“Good, because we aren’t guests.” Polly stood straight meeting the other woman’s dark gaze with bright blue eyes. “We’re the welcoming committee and volunteer house help. Becky told me that you barely made a dent in the work here yesterday, so we brought reinforcements.” The old woman’s bright grin left no room for discussion.
“Thank you,” Hester hurried to interject. “I don’t think I need the doctor though.”
“Harlan’s off to fetch the Doc,” Maud Dixon hurried back into the room, this time followed by the woman Hester knew as Becky, a short plump woman with gray curls, a stunning redhead, and three more younger women, one with gingery curls and the other two with dark brown hair.
“I’m Maud,” Polly’s friend grinned. “This is Mrs. Williams and her step-daughter Janine.”
Janine shifted a little girl on her hip and smiled around. “I’ve always wanted to see inside this house,” she said her dark eyes wide. “When we were kids Bruno offered to break in for me, but I was too frightened.”
“Janine, Bruno would have tried to fly if you had asked him,” the girl with the curls said flicking her skirt over worn riding boots. “He still would for that matter.”
“Well, I try not to ask him to do silly things for me anymore. I think he has enough to do with the sheep, me and little Alice,” she said.
“Sara, stop teasing Janine,” Maud scolded. Quil, do we have everything we need?”
“Yes mother,” the dark-haired woman offered looking around her seriously as if calculating something in her mind. “We even brought the paint that Mr. Payton ordered.”
Mrs. August gaped at the group of women in the parlor, unable to
respond to the unusual collections.
“What do you need us to do first?” Polly turned to look around her. Although the house had been swept and dusted to some extent it needed a thorough scrubbing.
“I’ll start on the windows,” Maud offered. “Ruth you can help me.” Without blinking an eye, she grabbed the short woman by the arm and headed toward the window. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how,” Maud added traipsing to the door.
“I’ll fetch the other supplies,” Sara smiled, “I think you’d better rest Hester. My father-in-law will have Doc here in no time.” The young woman grinned her green eyes dancing. “I have a feeling you and I will be good friends. We must be about the same age.” The young woman’s bright laugh filled the room as she strode back out the door.
