by Janette Oke
Drew turned to Belinda. “This has been the most wonderful Christmas I ever remember,” he told her sincerely. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”
Belinda smiled.
“Now I should be getting back. You must be very tired.”
“Sid will drive you. He has already asked about it,” Belinda informed him.
“I . . . I was hoping for a little chance to talk,” Drew admitted, looking disappointed.
Belinda’s eyes opened wide. “Of course,” she responded, her heart all aflutter. “I’ll get my wraps.”
“You don’t mind?”
Belinda shook her head firmly. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she didn’t mind having a chance for a talk with Drew.
Twenty-Three
Farewell
Belinda’s heart was thumping wildly in her chest as Drew helped her into the sleigh. It was a beautiful night for a sleigh ride. The air was crisp and the stars overhead were bright. Will this be a perfect end to an already perfect day? she wondered. Sid took his seat up front and lifted the reins. “Okay, big brother,” he joked, “is it to be the scenic route?”
Drew laughed and told Sidney to pay attention to his driving. Sid waved a hand good-naturedly and clucked to the team.
The snow crackled beneath the runners as they moved off. Belinda felt like a young girl again, off for an evening of fun and adventure. In fact, she felt about as young and lighthearted as she ever remembered.
Drew tucked the blanket closely about her and asked solicitously if she was warm enough.
Belinda wasn’t sure if she would have known if she was freezing, but she nodded that she was fine.
“I really enjoyed today,” Drew said again. “It was the kind of Christmas one dreams of.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Belinda agreed.
“Did you see the faces around the Christmas tree?” Drew asked. “They were like children.”
“I suppose this was the first real Christmas for many of them in years,” Belinda said solemnly. “Some have come from pretty desperate circumstances. Lonely situations.”
“It was hard to remember that today . . . watching them.”
Belinda thought again about the day. It had been good . . . perfect, she decided.
“I have just one regret,” she said wistfully.
“A regret?” Drew placed his arm companionably about her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“The nurse. Mrs. Tupper. I wish I would have offered to take her to . . . to her husband’s grave. She is still so lonely. I think if I were in her situation—”
“You didn’t know?” asked Drew.
Belinda shifted to look at him in the moonlight.
“Windsor took her to the cemetery,” said Drew.
“Windsor?”
Drew nodded.
“How do you know?” asked Belinda.
“Sid told me. He offered to do the driving, but Windsor insisted that the drive would do him good.”
“Where was I?” asked Belinda.
“You were busy . . . making all your new family feel at home. It was about three-thirty.”
Belinda was speechless for a moment. “Dear old Windsor,” she murmured at last. “The more I know of him, the more I love and respect him.”
“He is rather special, isn’t he?” admitted Drew.
The city streets were quiet, but now and then they passed a house where merrymaking was still in progress. Belinda laughed as they drove by one such house where the music and laughter poured out into the street.
“I guess some people like to make the celebration last just as long as possible,” she commented.
Drew’s arm tightened about her shoulders. She heard him take a deep breath and her heart beat more quickly. “Belinda,” he began, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Belinda felt she might explode with the intensity of the moment. She didn’t trust herself to reply, so she simply nodded.
“You remember when we were kids . . . back home?”
Belinda nodded again.
“You remember how I shot that rabbit and spooked your horse?”
Another nod.
“Well . . . I . . . think I fell in love with you that day.”
Belinda could not even nod. She had dreamed so often of hearing Drew say those words.
“And then when I discovered that it was your brother who had removed my arm,” Drew went on, “I was shattered. I was so angry about losing it that I couldn’t accept you. You were . . . were a part of it.”
Belinda felt his grip tighten on her shoulder.
“And then, thanks to your pa, and God, I finally got that all straightened out.”
Belinda released her breath and drew in again from the frosted air.
“And then one day I . . . I had the nerve . . . the audacity,” and there was a bit of a chuckle in his voice, “to kiss you.”
Belinda could feel her face flushing and was glad for the semidarkness.
“I meant that kiss . . . with all my heart . . . but . . . well, I knew I had no business, no business at all, expecting a girl like you to feel anything for me. Still, I couldn’t help the way I felt. I wanted to see you . . . to come calling. In fact, I did a number of times, but each time I got only as far as your spring, and then common sense would take over and I’d go home again.”
“I never knew that,” Belinda said in a whispery voice.
“I knew I had to go away and become an attorney before . . . before I ever had any right to try to win you,” Drew went on. Belinda shivered from excitement rather than the cold.
“I wanted so badly to come and tell you good-bye . . . to ask you to have faith in me . . . and to wait, but I knew I couldn’t expect that from you.”
“Oh, but I . . .” began Belinda with a little gasp but then bit her lip to keep silent.
Drew continued. “Well, I thought I was dreaming that day I met you in the law office. Here I was, an attorney now, and here you were . . . in the same city. It seemed like an answer to all my prayers. I couldn’t believe that you had not married. There must have been dozens of young men who would have given an arm to have you.” Drew stopped, then laughed at his choice of expressions.
I was waiting for you! Belinda’s heart cried, though she made no comment. I know that now . . . but I didn’t know it then.
“I guess . . . I guess I don’t have to tell you that . . . I still love you,” Drew said softly. “I suppose I always will. I had hoped, with all my heart, that this time . . . that this time I would have been free to . . . to ask for your love in return. But as I’ve watched you . . . day after day . . . I’ve realized . . .” Drew’s voice fell and his arm tightened again. “I know now I can’t ask that of you. If things had been different . . .” The words hung in the air.
Belinda felt something go cold within her. No! No! her heart protested. Don’t say that. Don’t! She wanted to throw her arms around Drew and sob against him. But she held herself upright, rigid, and forced herself to listen to what he had to say.
His voice was low, choked. She could tell that the words were as difficult for him to say as for her to hear. “I love you, Belinda, and as . . . as I can’t . . . can’t ask, I realized as I watched you today that I . . . I just can’t go on as we have been . . . as friends. It hurts too much to see you . . . to keep dreaming. I think it would be better for you . . . for both of us . . . if we don’t see each other anymore. You need to . . . to get on with your life . . . and I won’t stand in your way.”
They were almost to Drew’s tenement building. Belinda was sure she would never make it. She bit her lip and choked back the tears. Drew was saying good-bye, she tried to tell herself. Is it . . . is it because he’s heard I’m going home and won’t ask me to stay on in Boston? Doesn’t he know . . . doesn’t he realize that a girl will sometimes gladly change her mind?
Belinda was on the verge of telling him that he had no right to judge what was best for her, but s
he checked her impulsiveness. There might be something else . . . something entirely different, something he had not said. She would not put Drew in the impossible position of asking for his explanation. He had said that their lives should go separate ways. She must accept that.
“I think far too highly of you to be anything but open and honest,” Drew was saying. “I do hope you understand why . . . why I can’t bear the thought of just being friends.”
Belinda managed a silent nod. She didn’t really want friendship, either.
Sid cried out a loud “Whoa” to the team. Drew pulled Belinda close and tilted her face in the moonlight. “Good-bye, Belinda,” he whispered and kissed her once again. Belinda could see the tears in his eyes. Then he was gone, and Sid was calling a good-night to his older brother and moving the team forward again.
Belinda pulled the blankets closely about her, but she could not stop her shivering. She fought to remain calm, though her heart still pounded and her head whirled.
“Beautiful night for a drive,” Sid called back. Belinda had no answer. She didn’t trust her voice. Sid began to whistle, and Belinda pulled the blanket up around her ears to shut out the sound.
Somehow she made it home. She even managed a good-night to all of those still lingering about the parlor. Then she pronounced it a very long day, excused herself, and headed for her room.
She did not even properly prepare herself for bed but threw herself down on the ornate spread, and for the first time since she had been a small child, Belinda cried herself to sleep.
The die had been cast. There was little Belinda could do about it, she told herself over and over. She arose the next morning, washed her swollen face, and began the job of sorting through her belongings.
She was going home as planned. There was nothing to hold her any longer in Boston.
All morning she sorted and packed. She tossed aside all her fancy satins and silks as they were much too ornate for her hometown. Then she eyed them again and thought of Abbie and Kate. With a bit of remodeling they could make quite suitable gowns out of the dresses. The material was lovely. She changed her mind and packed all but the two fanciest. These she would turn over to Potter. The older woman had a knack with a needle. She could do with them whatever she wished.
There was a rap on Belinda’s door, and Ella entered. “No one had seen you about, miss. We feared you might have taken ill or something.”
Belinda assured her that she had not. “I’ve been busy,” she informed Ella. “I have so much to do.”
The maid looked about the cluttered room and her face fell. “You haven’t changed your mind?”
Belinda shook her head.
“I was hoping that you would, miss.”
“There’s no reason for me to change it,” Belinda said, and the words took more effort than Ella would ever know.
“It will just be so . . . so different without you here,” Ella went on frankly. “The whole staff had been hopin’ you’d stay on.”
Belinda looked up from her packing, wondering if Ella had exaggerated. . . . Still, it was nice to hear.
“Things are all arranged now,” she reminded Ella. “There is no need for me to stay around,” she reiterated.
“Well, ‘need’ is what, miss?” asked Ella frankly. “Maybe the clothes will be washed and the rooms cleaned, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t needed. You make this place seem . . . more like a home . . . to all of us.”
Belinda swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her. “That is a very kind thing to say, Ella,” she said softly, and when she lifted her head to look at the girl, she saw tears in Ella’s eyes.
“I’ll miss you, Ella,” she said honestly.
Ella blinked away her tears and backed toward the door. “I’ll get you a tray, miss,” she managed and then was gone.
The day did not get easier for Belinda. The news of her resolve seemed to spread throughout the house and bring a feeling of gloom. It was a compliment of sorts, but Belinda feared the new living arrangement could not tolerate such an atmosphere. She gave up her packing momentarily and went down to try to stir up some merriment.
But Belinda was of no mind to stay on any longer than was absolutely necessary. As the days slipped by, she quietly continued her preparations. She planned to be on her way by the end of the week.
When the day of her planned departure arrived, Belinda drew Windsor aside. “Windsor, I should like to be driven to the station this afternoon,” she informed him quietly.
The man’s eyes grew big with question. “You still plan to go?” he asked hoarsely.
Belinda nodded. “The train leaves at two,” she said matter-of-factly.
“We haven’t even had a proper good-bye,” the butler said in a tight voice.
“Now, Windsor, what is a proper good-bye? We will say one at the door, when I’m leaving.”
“That hardly seems adequate, miss,” Windsor dared to contradict her.
“Well, any other kind would just be too painful,” Belinda admitted, and Windsor nodded his head.
“It will be painful regardless, m’lady,” he told her.
Belinda fled back upstairs to do the last-minute preparations.
When the last item had been tucked away, she drew a warm coat about her and let herself out the back door. She followed the garden paths between what had been Thomas’s showy flower beds such a short time ago. Here and there a dry-looking stick acknowledged that something had lived in those beds. The snow covered all else. She was sure she would find the old gardener and his dog in the greenhouse.
“Thomas,” she called as she entered the sanctuary. “Thomas, are you here?”
“Over here, miss,” Thomas’s rusty voice answered, and McIntyre came ambling from that direction to greet her.
“’Tis a mite chilly to be out wanderin’,” Thomas observed, and Belinda nodded in agreement.
“It’s colder than I realized,” she admitted.
“You’ll be catchin’ yer death of cold,” the old gentleman worried, looking at Belinda’s feet for the warm footwear she should have been wearing.
“I’m going right back in,” she informed him.
She let a moment of silence pass and then spoke again. “I came to say good-bye.”
The old man’s head moved quickly up from the tender shoot he was grafting onto a rosebush. He said nothing, but his eyes quizzed her.
“I’m returning home . . . as planned,” she continued. “Everything is arranged here now.”
The old man still said nothing. He laid aside his twig and his tools and looked at Belinda.
“Yer sure?” he asked at length.
Belinda nodded, tears in her eyes. This was not going to be as easy as she had hoped.
“Ye don’t plan on being back?”
Belinda shook her head.
“We’ll miss ye,” he said simply and turned away. It was not fast enough for him to hide the tears in his own eyes. There was silence for a moment. Thomas broke it.
“I have somethin’ fer ye,” he said and led Belinda to a table at the end of the greenhouse.
Curious, Belinda followed. Thomas reached for a small container, and Belinda could see a plant protruding from the soil. He handed her the pot.
“Mind it doesn’t freeze,” he cautioned.
Belinda accepted the gift, unaware of what it was she held.
“’Tis a Princess Belinda,” he said softly.
“Your rose,” whispered Belinda, and more tears came to her eyes. “Thank you, Thomas.”
He nodded and reached a hand down to McIntyre’s head. “We’ll miss ye,” he said again.
“And I will miss you . . . so much,” responded Belinda.
Thomas nodded. He seemed in a hurry to get the awkward good-bye over.
“Thomas,” Belinda said on impulse.
The old man lifted his head and blinked watery eyes.
“Would you mind . . . could I give you one quick hug?”
He moved
clumsily to embrace Belinda. He held her much longer than she had anticipated and then they bid a quick farewell. Clutching her precious rose inside her coat, Belinda fled to the big house.
The other good-byes were no easier. She longed to just turn and flee from the house, but she knew she couldn’t. She probably would never see these people again. She would miss them all so much. Especially the dear staff. They had been like a family for such a long time. It was difficult to think of life without them.
After Belinda said a hasty farewell to each of the new residents, she turned to the members of the staff. Potter blew her nose loudly on her pocket hankie, Cook let the tears run down her cheeks and then whisked them away with her apron, and Ella openly sobbed. Belinda felt she couldn’t endure another minute of the emotional leave-taking. She lingered an extra moment to whisper to Mrs. Simpson, “I’m so glad you agreed to come.” Then she gave Sid a hug and hurried out to the sleigh after Windsor.
She continued to blow and sniff all the way to the station. And then she still had to say good-bye to Windsor. “I have no words to tell you how much I’ve appreciated you,” Belinda told the stiff butler, holding out her hand to him. He only nodded as he solemnly shook her hand.
“You’ve been so kind,” Belinda went on.
“I’ve only done my duty, m’lady,” he said with difficulty, “but you served when the duty wasn’t even yours.”
Belinda was puzzled at his statement.
“I saw the love you gave to Madam,” Windsor said frankly. “A love that went far beyond duty . . . and I loved you for it.”
Belinda was touched. “You see, m’lady,” and Windsor leaned forward slightly in a confidential way, “I’ve never told this to a living soul before, but . . . I loved her, too. Always!”
Belinda reached up on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on the weathered cheek; then she turned and ran toward the waiting train.
How beautiful, she thought as she ran, how beautiful . . . and how sad. He loved her . . . all these years, and he would have died before he let her know. And just because . . . because he saw them as being from different stations in life.
Belinda climbed aboard the train with the help of the conductor and settled herself for a good weep.
