“Good.”
The door flew open and Wes Dobbyns, one of the newspaper’s up-and-coming reporters, rushed inside and skidded to a stop at their table. He pulled off his fedora and inadvertently spattered water in her face. Charlotte dabbed at her cheeks and eyes with a cloth napkin.
“Excuse me, Miss Hale.” He bobbed his head and then faced Mr. Phifer. “And I’m sorry to disturb you, too, sir, but a fire has broken out down at one of the wharfs. Shall I cover it myself or should I send—”
“You can handle it. All this rain should extinguish it in short order.” Mr. Phifer thrust himself out of his chair, tossed a dollar bill and change on the table. “Ambitious pup,” he mumbled with grudging praise. “We’re finished for now, Miss Hale.”
Charlotte followed the reporter and editor outside. Why couldn’t Phifer have assigned her to a fire story rather than the destruction of Daniel Wilmont?
Charlotte darted to the edge of the sidewalk flanked by the two newspapermen and popped open her umbrella. Waiting for a break in the traffic, she looked down Thames Street for Daniel’s gig. Peering through the rain, she couldn’t distinguish one equipage from another, although a steady line of carriages and wagons headed in her direction.
Mr. Phifer grumbled, “Nasty weather. Don’t look so morose, Miss Hale. I’ve handed you the chance of a lifetime and you act as if I’ve condemned you to the gallows. What is the matter with you?”
Charlotte tilted her umbrella to get a better look at her boss. “Nothing, sir. I merely wish to uncover the truth.”
“Grow up, Miss Hale. This isn’t child’s play. The professor is stirring up the rabble and I won’t have it. Wilmont is a troublemaker using the cover of religion to build himself up. You seem to ignore that fact.”
The urge to quit her job swelled within her chest. Angry tears burned behind her eyelids, but she blinked rapidly until she finally regained her composure and common sense. Quitting in haste would be shortsighted. She’d ponder her options first and then decide a course of action.
But what if she never found the strength to follow through on her convictions? How horrid to go through life compromising on her values just to get along with others.
The answer suddenly settled in her heart. God had heard her prayer and He’d help her. Without a doubt she’d act according to her convictions, no matter what the consequences.
But right now she needed to protect the professor from the likes of Mr. Phifer and Missy LeBeau. And Edith Ann Wengle.
“Mr. Phifer, please don’t send Miss Wengle to Summerhill. I’m quite capable of completing the assignment on my own. She’s not suited for minding children. If Mrs. Wilmont hired her, and I doubt she would, she’d let her go within hours. I’ll uncover the truth within the next few days.” Spewing false bravado, she stared directly into his scarlet face.
Mr. Phifer wagged a finger. “You haven’t produced the goods, young woman. I have a mind to fire you this very minute. But I shall think it over before I decide what to do, between you and Miss Wengle. You’ll be hearing from me. Good day, Miss Hale.” He turned on his heel and stomped off.
The professor’s gig, splashing through the rain and mud, drew to a halt on the opposite side of the road. Charlotte stepped forward, but Wes Dobbyn’s voice stopped her.
“Whew!” He swept his hand across his forehead. “I couldn’t hear all Mr. Phifer said, but you certainly angered him. You’d better do as he asks and fast, or you’ll be pounding the pavement looking for another position. Good jobs are hard to come by these days.”
“I know, I know.” Charlotte grimaced. “And thank you for your concern. Good afternoon, Mr. Dobbyns.”
Grasping the umbrella with one hand and holding on to her hat with the other, Charlotte jogged through the congestion as carriage wheels splattered mud on her skirt. Wes followed close behind, called good-bye, and then headed toward the wharf. The soles of Charlotte’s polished boots skidded through the slippery dirt before she reached the opposite sidewalk. She jumped into the buggy beside Professor Wilmont and folded the umbrella.
The professor eased out into the traffic and glanced sideways. “You look worried. I saw you standing with two gentlemen across the street. Did that older fellow distress you? He looked angry.”
Charlotte shook her head and yanked her veil down to obscure her face.
Daniel’s eyes widened as he stared at the figure striding down the sidewalk. “My goodness. That’s Arnie Phifer. Why were you talking to that scoundrel?”
Charlotte gulped, speechless. Of course the professor recognized his harshest critic. And in a few seconds, he’d probably remember where he’d seen her before—in the office of the Rhode Island Reporter. She wished she could vanish into the rain and never be seen again.
From the questioning look in his eye, Daniel expected an explanation.
HE PEERED AT Charlotte. Her skin seemed to reflect the gray of the sky. Despite her denial, Arnie Phifer must have upset her. Daniel seldom ventured to assess anyone’s feelings, especially a woman’s, but her pinched lips and furrowed brow betrayed turmoil. There was no mistaking it. “Did he say something rude to you?”
She shook her head, releasing tendrils of shiny hair from beneath her hat. “No, nothing like that. He was muttering about the awful weather. Really, I scarcely paid attention.”
Perhaps the man enjoyed striking up a conversation with a young, attractive woman, though his scowl excluded any sort of flirtation. Besides, the man was well into middle age and probably married. “If he bothered you, I’ll gladly go over and speak to him.” He glared toward Arnie strutting down the sidewalk toward the offices of the Rhode Island Reporter. “I believe I’ll do just that.” He pulled back on the reins when Charlotte gripped his arm. Her eyes were bright with alarm.
“Thank you for your concern, but that isn’t necessary.” Pushing up her veil, Charlotte pinned on a smile as cold as the winter sun.
End of conversation. Yet the brief encounter had looked just like an argument, certainly not a friendly exchange of information. “Strange,” Daniel murmured, “you both appeared to know each other.” He couldn’t help himself. The words flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to check them.
Charlotte flashed a warning with her eyes. “Professor, the man was not harassing me.” She enunciated every word in a low, deliberate voice. “Please don’t concern yourself.”
He raised his hand, spreading his fingers wide. “I’m sorry. I have no right to question you.” But why did the normally sweet-tempered girl suddenly bristle? There was so much he didn’t know about her, yet that only propelled him to delve deeper and learn everything he could—her thoughts, her ideas, all the details of her life.
Charlotte tossed him a faint smile. “No need to apologize, sir.”
But he couldn’t control his curiosity. “Why were you outside the café? You said you needed to buy some items—” He hated himself for prying, but questions kept tumbling through his mind. Did she have plans to meet someone at the café and merely used running errands as an excuse? Who did she meet? A beau she’d never mentioned before?
“I decided to get out of the rain and have a quick cup of tea.” She spoke in a breezy tone of voice as she fingered her reticule.
Perhaps the fellow who exited the café with Charlotte and Arnie Phifer was her friend—or even sweetheart. Yet the young man looked exceedingly boyish with his sparse mustache and gangly gait. Surely he was too immature to attract Charlotte. Daniel exhaled sharply. He hated his uncharitable thoughts toward a man he didn’t even know. He was reacting like a lover spurned.
“Did you have tea with that young fellow?” Daniel asked casually.
Charlotte hesitated. Then her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh no. He’s merely an acquaintance, not a close friend.”
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
Charlotte raised a wry smile. “If you were wondering if I have a beau, the answer is no. I’ve had a few, but no one who actuall
y suited. A few years ago a fireman proposed, but when he realized I wouldn’t desert my aunt and sister, he reneged on the engagement.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been quite a blow.”
“To my pride, yes. But we weren’t meant for each other. It worked out for the best.”
Daniel’s spirits rose higher than the highest cloud. Apparently he still had a chance at winning her affection. Well, possibly.
EIGHTEEN
The next morning the ring of the doorbell pierced the quiet. Mr. Grimes pulled open the front door of Summerhill and gaped as Edith Ann Wengle whirled past him into the foyer. Charlotte’s stack of children’s books clattered to the floor just as Daniel emerged from his office. The young woman flew directly at Charlotte with arms outstretched and sorrow etched in every feature and freckle. With a lunge forward, Edith Ann squeezed her in a tight embrace, punching the air out of Charlotte’s lungs. She struggled for breath, then mustered her strength and shoved Edith Ann away. But the wretched woman clung like a wet bathing costume.
Charlotte glanced at Daniel, who stood at his office door, his eyes wide with interest.
“What are you doing here?” she mumbled. With one final push, she freed herself from Edith Ann’s grip.
Her hand thumped her chest as she dragged out a theatrical sigh. “I’m afraid I have sad news. Devastating news.”
Oh no, not Aunt Amelia or Becky! As Edith Ann turned toward Daniel, Charlotte spotted a gleam in her eye. Mr. Phifer’s typist thrust out her hand and grabbed for Daniel’s, snapping it with a fierce shake.
“I’m Penelope Smith, Charlotte’s first cousin, twice removed.
You must be her employer. I’m very pleased to meet you, even under such heart-wrenching circumstances.” She pumped Daniel’s hand. “Good to meet you, sir. My cousin has told me all about you.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlotte planted her hands on her hips, irritated by the farce.
Edith Ann’s face pulled down with contrived grief. “I’m so sorry, dear Charlotte, but I received a frantic message from your Uncle Wilbur this morning.”
“Who?” Charlotte shook her head. She didn’t have any relatives by that name.
“Your Uncle Wilbur from Portsmouth. He sent word to your Aunt Amelia who pleaded with me to come straight over and deliver the sad news.” Her voice broke. “I do so hate to tell.” Edith Ann sniffled and then blew her nose with a handkerchief from her reticule. Charlotte stared at her narrow, hawkish face. What was she jabbering about?
The bearer of bad news lowered her voice. “It seems your sweet Aunt Louise passed away last night of heart failure. She went to her reward in a matter of seconds without any pain. Thank the good Lord she didn’t suffer.” She raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “Your uncle says the funeral will take place in two days. He really needs you out in Portsmouth tomorrow to help serve the guests and feed the chickens.”
Daniel wrapped his arm around Charlotte’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?” He quickly stepped away, apparently afraid his gesture might seem too intimate, especially in front of a stranger.
“No, thank you,” Charlotte murmured as she glared at Arnie Phifer’s messenger. Two could act out this charade. With hands covering her face, Charlotte sniffed, as if crying. “Poor Aunt Louise. I didn’t know she was ill. I do appreciate you coming here to tell me about her passing, Penelope. I’ll call on Uncle Wilbur next week and offer my condolences, but I couldn’t possibly get away right now.”
Charlotte grabbed Edith Ann by the arm to steer her out the door, but the stubborn woman wouldn’t budge.
“Your Uncle Wilbur needs you,” Edith Ann insisted. “He wants you to come to him in his hour of need.”
“Well, I’m so dreadfully sorry, but the Wilmonts need me too. Uncle Wilbur has dozens of relations who can take care of him, so I’m sure he can do without me.”
Edith Ann’s face scrunched with determination. “But he said he needed you. And besides, you’re his favorite niece.”
“You misunderstood. He hardly knows me. Besides, Uncle Wilbur has ten children who live close by the farm. They’ll help him get through this.”
Daniel looked surprised. “With ten children, he’d certainly appreciate your help.”
“Ten grown children, all over the age of twenty-five.” Dear Lord, please forgive me for this falsehood. I can’t tell him the truth in front of Edith Ann.
Daniel gently patted Charlotte’s shoulder. “Take a few days off anyway. We can get along if we have to. Being with your family is more important.”
Charlotte groaned inwardly.
Edith Ann raised her hands as if to stop the conversation. “There’s no need of that. It just so happens I’m available this week and I’d be glad to assist you, Professor Wilmont. Now don’t refuse, Charlotte, it wouldn’t be an imposition. I’d really be happy to help out my dearest cousin.”
Charlotte’s jaw nearly dropped open. This was Mr. Phifer’s devious way of replacing her. “Thank you for your kindness, both of you.” She glanced toward Daniel. “Before I decide, I’d like to speak to my Aunt Amelia.”
“By all means,” Daniel agreed in a sympathetic tone.
Heading for the door, she glanced back at Edith Ann. “Please come with me, cousin.”
Without waiting for a response, Charlotte strutted out to the veranda and across the lawn to Edith Ann’s hired carriage. The woman’s boots ground against the pebbled drive as she fell behind Charlotte’s fast pace.
Once alone, Charlotte’s let her anger boil over. “Penelope, I know what you and Mr. Phifer are trying to do and it won’t work.”
All pretense gone, Edith Ann shrugged. “He wants you back in the office tomorrow morning since you can’t come up with anything against Professor Wilmont. He knows I can do a better job. And I shall.” She stood against the carriage door, back straight and head held high. A smirk played on her lips.
Immediately, Charlotte lifted her chin. “What are you going to do that I haven’t already done?” As soon as Charlotte asked the question, she knew the answer. “Mr. Phifer is planning something underhanded, isn’t he?”
Edith Ann flinched for only half a second. “Not unless it’s necessary.”
“You’d plant evidence. I know you would.” Charlotte held her breath, waiting for confirmation.
Edith Ann rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a moralist. It’s so unbecoming.”
“I’m ashamed my standards have already sunk so low, but I won’t allow them to drop any farther.” Charlotte waved back at the house. “Since you aren’t needed here, I want you to leave Summerhill at once.”
Edith Ann gave a disdainful shake of her head as she turned. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “You’re making a big mistake by tossing me out. Mr. Phifer won’t like that one little bit. Without a reference, you’ll never work in journalism.”
An unexpected feeling of self-assurance erased Charlotte’s apprehension. Something blossomed inside, something solid and strong. Confidence, courage, a willingness to do the right thing and pay whatever it cost—including losing her job and risking her family’s finances. Charlotte suddenly understood the meaning of truth and honor. And faith. These feelings didn’t come from within herself. They came from God.
“It’s a price worth paying.”
Edith Ann stared at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. Shaking her head, Edith Ann climbed into the cab. Charlotte watched the carriage disappear down the driveway in a cloud of dust. Weak-kneed, Charlotte returned to the veranda and collapsed onto a wicker chair, her bravado spent.
Mr. Phifer planned to fire her as soon as she walked into the office tomorrow. No doubt he wanted the pleasure of sacking her in person. Not that it really mattered because, in good conscience, she couldn’t continue to work at the Rhode Island Reporter. Quitting was an enormous step that she couldn’t avoid. Well, so be it.
She’d rely on her governess salary until she found some
other position. With her career in shambles and no reference from Mr. Phifer, she’d have to explore something other than journalism. Apprehension crawled up her spine.
As much as she regretted the necessity of starting over, a spark of satisfaction from making the right decision fueled her confidence. Lord, courage comes from You. Please don’t let me falter. It still felt strange to turn to God, but surprisingly, not difficult. The warmth of His presence surrounded her like a ray of sunshine on a clear summer day. Lord, thank You for coming into my life at the very time I need you the most. I’m sorry I didn’t look to You before I deceived the professor. I know now You would’ve guided me down the right path. I’d have resisted Mr. Phifer’s offer and avoided the mess I’m in now. Please forgive me, Father.
The future would take care of itself, with God’s help. She had a powerful feeling she was in loving hands. Charlotte returned to the house and found Daniel gathering his books for his ten o’clock class. Concern deepened the fine web of lines edging his eyes.
Tell him the truth. But he was rushing off to work. Confession would have to wait awhile longer.
He took his bowler from the hat rack and then paused. “Charlotte, please take the rest of the day off and speak to your aunt. If your uncle needs your help, you ought to go to him.”
“Thank you, sir. I believe I should speak to Aunt Amelia, but I’m quite certain Uncle Wilbur doesn’t require my assistance.”
Daniel nodded. “Feel free to use the gig.”
“Thank you, sir.”
She didn’t deserve his generosity. She owed him the truth. “Sir, I need to speak with you privately when you’re less busy.”
A smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Yes, how about late this afternoon?”
SHE LEFT SUMMERHILL before she lost her determination. As she climbed into the gig, she planned her strategy. She’d confront Mr. Phifer, say her peace, and accept the consequences of her brazen action, if not fearlessly, then at least with dignity. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wondered if her nerve might fail her once she faced her boss’s wrath.
Love on Assignment Page 22
