An Angel in the Mail
Page 23
A shadow crept over her as she thought about being put out of her sister’s friend’s house in the middle of a war, with nowhere to go, no one to care about her. The pampered daughter of an industrialist, Sylvia married at twenty-two, and widowed at thirty-seven. Left with no children, but a considerable amount of money, life continued pleasantly until she married Gerald Hardwick, who became ill after a few years of marriage and then died, leaving her penniless. The authorities had even taken the money she’d brought to the marriage.
The fact she could earn enough to support herself restored her security. Eli might be a wealthy man, but Sylvia would squirrel away her earnings, just in case.
She stopped her musing to answer him. “I can be ready in three weeks. It would probably be best since I’ve been staying here.”
“Don’t you worry about that, my dear. It doesn’t matter what people think, because no one would dare snub you. I practically own this town.”
Right after the jail scare, her belongings had been sent from the Hale household to the Benson home, and Sylvia had been ensconced in the guest room. Of course, no one need know she snuck into his bedroom each night, and back out the next morning.
Lucy unfolded the worn paper Mr. McNeil had given her, and taking a sip from her brandy glass, read it once more, grinning. She couldn’t wait to see Nate. In fact, maybe she’d go down to his shop today.
The noise of the door across the hallway closing caught her attention. Most likely Sylvia, leaving her father’s bedroom to scurry into her own, wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown. Ha! The slut might have everyone else fooled, but not her.
All the attention Papa used to give her, he now lavished on that woman. One Hardwick harlot had taken away her love, and the other her papa. They would pay.
Lucy capped the brandy bottle, and returned it to her hiding place in the closet, before she rang for Bella. The time had arrived to dress, and visit the gunsmith shop.
Bent over his worktable, Nate maneuvered the pin on a revolver, then his attention swung to the door as Lucy entered his shop. Her steps faltered, and she swayed a bit, not too steady on her feet. Frowning, he looked closer when she stopped in front of him. Bloodshot eyes, and from a distance of about three feet, he smelled liquor.
“Mornin’, Nate,” she said with a big smile.
He returned his concentration to his work. “Mornin’, Lucy, how are you today?”
“Me?” she giggled. “I’m fine. In fact, this is the best day.”
“Well, you sure sound happy. What can I do for you?”
Lucy plopped herself on a chair next to the counter, almost missing the seat, and opened her reticule. She rummaged around, all the time mumbling to herself.
“I want you to read something.” She slurred the last word, and swayed in the chair. Nate placed the gun on the counter and reached out to steady her.
Lucy slumped and gazed at him with tear-filled eyes. “Why didn’t you wait for me, Nate? I planned to make you the best wife.”
A shaky hand wiped her forehead, accidentally shifting her hat so it hung to one side. She didn’t seem to notice. Alarmed at her condition, Nate walked around the counter and stood in front of her. “Why don’t I drive you home, and we can visit another time?”
“No.” She stuck her chin out, and blinked several times. Again she swayed to one side, and Nate had to catch her to keep her from falling off the chair.
“I came to show you something important.” She continued to rummage around her reticule, dropping things on the floor that went unnoticed.
Nate walked to the door and flipped the sign to “Closed.” He returned to Lucy, and took her by the elbow. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes, trying hard to focus. “Home to your house? Are you going to take me to bed? I had lots of experience in Europe. I can teach you a few things.”
He blew out an exasperated breath as he gathered the articles scattered on the floor, and shoved them into her reticule. Then he lifted her limp body and carried her out the back door to the buggy she’d arrived in.
She giggled. “Oh, you’re so romantic.”
He deposited her in the buggy, and after locking the shop door, jumped up on the seat, and started for the Benson house. Within minutes, he heard snoring, and glanced over at the sleeping Lucy.
Nate shook his head as they continued on. What in heaven’s name could Eli do about this? The young woman flirted with danger, and her heavy drinking would not have a good finish.
The few people he’d known with drinking problems ended up dead before their time. But a young woman could cause a great deal of embarrassment for her family before she ruined her health to that degree. He’d never understand how a beautiful girl, with all the advantages she had, would throw everything away, including her future, for a drink.
Rather than carrying her to the front door, Nate left her in the buggy, raced up the stairs and knocked. The doorman Nate remembered from the party answered. Stepping inside, Nate spoke quietly. “Is Mr. Benson at home?”
“Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Hardwick are in the breakfast room. May I direct you?”
The couple looked up as Nate entered, surprise and curiosity on their faces.
“Hello, Nate, what brings you out this way?” Eli wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Have some coffee.” He pushed a cup over to him, and nodded to the silver coffee pot on the table.
“Thanks, but I’m here to bring Lucy home. I have to get back to work.”
“Lucy? I thought she was still abed.” Eli frowned and stood.
“No.” Nate ran his fingers through his hair. “She came to see me in my shop.”
The couple waited, and tension snapped as they regarded him.
Nate took a deep breath and rested his hands at his hips. “Actually, sir, she came to my shop, drunk. I’m sorry, but there’s no other way to say it.”
“Drunk!” Sylvia and Eli said at the same time.
“She wanted to show me something, but couldn’t find it, and when I noticed her condition, I insisted on driving her home.” He turned and started toward the door. “Right now she’s sound asleep in your buggy out front.”
Both Eli and Sylvia stood and immediately hurried after him. Nate reached the door first and ran down the steps to the buggy. Lifting Lucy, who still snored, from the carriage, he carried her into the house. Sylvia led him upstairs to Lucy’s room. He placed her on the bed, and turned to Sylvia.
“This is not the first time I’ve seen Lucy either drunk or close to it. I don’t know what Eli can do, except hide the liquor. She must be getting it from him.”
“I’ve noticed it myself, but I haven’t said anything to Eli because I know how close they both are.” She smiled sadly. “Well, they used to be close until I came into the picture.”
Nate regarded her, sensing her misplaced guilt. “Don’t go blaming yourself. Lucy’s had problems for a while, long before you arrived.” He gave Sylvia a brief hug. “Talk to Eli. With his money, he could hire someone to look out for her. Like a companion. And tell him to lock his liquor up.”
She cupped his cheek. “Thank you, dear. I will.” She looked down at the sleeping girl, then took a light blanket from the closet and covered her after removing her hat and shoes.
A sense of foreboding filled Nate to find Sheriff Travis waiting outside his shop when Eli’s driver dropped him off.
“Morning, Sheriff.” Nate unlocked the door, and waved the man in. “Not more bad news, I hope?”
The sheriff removed his hat, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Wish I could say that, but I’m afraid I have a court order here for you and Mrs. Hale.”
He stared at the sheriff as he took the paper from the man’s hand.
“What?” His eyes widened as he scanned the document.
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“I don’t understand it myself, son, but it looks like Amy’s parents want guardianship of your young’uns.”
“This is ridiculous.” He flipped the top page and continued to read. “They claim we’re unfit parents.” He gave the sheriff a questioning look.
The lawman shrugged. “I have no idea what they’re claiming. I suggest you find yourselves a lawyer. According to that paper,” he nodded at the document in Nate’s hand, “you and the misses have to be in court next week for some kind of hearing.”
The sheriff tugged his hat back on, and nodding briefly, left the shop. Nate stared after him, his stomach clenching.
Nate slowly climbed the front porch steps. He barely noticed the cold wind at his back. Glancing once again at the court order, he sighed and entered the house. How could he explain to Angel they might possibly lose the children? As preposterous as the whole thing seemed, the courts were known to do some pretty stupid things.
“What are you doing home so early?” Angel wiped her hands on a towel as he entered the kitchen. “What’s the matter?” She frowned.
“Sit down, honey.” Nate sat across from her, and took her hands in his.
“You’re scaring me, Nate, what’s wrong?”
“The sheriff served me with a court order today.”
Angel squeezed his hand. “Oh, no. More trouble for Sylvia?”
He shook his head. “Amy’s parents are petitioning the court for guardianship of the children. They claim you and I are unfit parents.”
Angel shot out of her chair and then abruptly sat back down again, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.
They sat and stared at each other, speechless. Angel took a large breath and swallowed. “That’s by far the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Why, they haven’t come near them since they were here last year. Can they do that?”
Nate slumped in his chair. “I certainly hope not. But, who knows what a court will decide?”
She wrung her hands. “What are we going to do?”
He placed two fists on the table and pushed himself up. Striding to the window, he looked out at the barren winter ground, and stood with his back to her, hands on his hips. “I have no idea, because I can’t imagine on what grounds they claim we’re unfit.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Unfit! Is that what they say? Why, because you said a prayer they didn’t approve of? I can’t believe this.” She wiped at the tear sliding down her cheek.
“We’ll need a lawyer.” His voice came out raspy.
Angel crossed over to him, and he pulled her close, resting his chin on her head.
“I have a little money set aside.” He squeezed her shoulders.
“And I have my tutoring money.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “They really can’t do this, can they?”
“I don’t know. As I said, we need to see a lawyer.” He tucked her against his chest, his voice rumbling against her ear.
“This makes me so angry!” Angel broke free and paced. “You said they’ve only seen the children a couple of times. For heaven’s sake, the boys didn’t even know them when they came for a visit. And here it is, almost a year later, and they want guardianship? I can’t imagine any judge allowing that.” Her eyes snapped as she spoke.
“Come on, get Julia-Rose and we’ll go downtown to that lawyer Eli uses. We should be back in time for the boys.”
Lucy awoke in her bed with a throbbing headache. She winced as she turned her head and gazed around the room. Her tongue skimmed the inside of her mouth, which felt as if someone had swabbed the cavity with a nasty piece of cotton.
She rolled the other direction, glancing at the clock. Three o’clock. Since slivers of daylight peeked through the drawn curtains, it must’ve been afternoon, not the middle of the night.
Her still-muddled brain considered what had happened earlier. The memory of arriving at Nate’s gunsmith shop was clear enough, but things were a little fuzzy after that. She’d made the trip to show him the report Mr. McNeil had given her.
Did I actually show it to him?
After that, everything was a complete blank, so Nate must have brought her home. A loud groan escaped as she pulled the pillow from under her head, and covered her face. The trouble she soon faced would not be forgiven so easily.
A soft knocked sounded at her bedroom door. She contemplated ignoring it, but eventually she would have to face her father, so she eased herself up. “Come in.”
Sylvia entered, smiling.
Oh, God, why did it have to be her?
“How are you feeling, dear?” The woman quietly approached the bed.
“Awful.”
“Your papa would like to see you downstairs when you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’m sure he does.” Lucy lay back down and moaned when her head hit the pillow.
“Do you want me to help you?” Sylvia walked to the window and pushed the drapes aside.
Light poured into the room, and Lucy placed her hand over her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, close those drapes.”
Sylvia sighed. “Your papa’s been waiting for a while to talk to you, so I think you better wash your face, brush your hair, and come on down.”
“I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much.” Lucy threw off the cover and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“All right, I’ll leave you, and see you downstairs.”
Once the door clicked closed, Lucy took the few steps to where she kept her hidden brandy bottle. Her eyes grew wide to find it empty. It couldn’t be possible she’d drunk so much. Only yesterday she’d pinched it from her father’s liquor supply.
She rinsed her mouth out with lavender water, washed her face, and brushed her hair. Twisting it into a chignon, she slipped her shoes on and left the room.
Once she arrived downstairs, she could hear Sylvia and Papa talking in the library, so she headed there.
The couple sat side by side on the settee. Her father held Sylvia’s hand as she leaned close to him, and spoke softly.
“Come in, honey.” He smiled when he noticed Lucy in the doorway.
Tears immediately welled up in Lucy’s eyes. Dabbing with her handkerchief, she sniffed and took the soft leather chair in front of the fireplace.
“I’m so sorry, Papa.” She wiped her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t have had that one drink this morning. I had a chore to do I wasn’t happy about, so I needed a little bit of courage.”
Her father left Sylvia’s side, proceeded to where Lucy sat, and pulled her up. “Girl, don’t you know courage from a bottle is no courage at all?”
“I know that now.” She sniffed daintily, and peered up at him, her lip trembling. “I’ve never done that before, Papa, and I can assure you I truly learned my lesson.”
Sylvia’s eyebrows shot up at the blatant lie, but she remained silent. Her father gathered Lucy into his arms, and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you did.”
Lucy smiled against her father’s shoulder, and glanced at Sylvia. She hadn’t fooled the older woman, but didn’t care. Her papa would always take care of her.
“Papa, I’m really not well. I’m not used to spirits, and I feel a little sick. May I go back to my room and lie down?”
He released her. “Of course, honey. You go on upstairs and lie down for the rest of the day. You’ll feel much better tomorrow. I’ll have Cook send a tray up for you in a little bit.”
Thank you, Papa, I love you so much.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek. Turning, she walked out of the library, wondering how soon he would leave the room so she could replenish her liquor stock.
Nate and Angel entered Damian Lawton’s unassuming office on Main Street. Angel looked around as they approached his desk.
A worn desk sat in the front of two windows. Papers and files were stacked on top of the desk, and on the floor alongside his chair. How did the man find anything? The walls were painted a sickly green color, the wooden floor scratched and worn.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hale,” Damian said, rising from his seat. Although clean and neat about his person, his suit showed wear in various spots.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lawton, can we have a minute of your time?”
“Of course, please, have a seat,” he pointed to two aged wooden chairs in front of his desk.
Nate ushered Angel to a chair, while she shifted Julia-Rose, who slept on, in her arms.
When they were all settled, the lawyer avoided pleasantries and got right to business. “What can I do for you?”
Nate drew the court order from his pocket, and handed it to the attorney. Damian opened it, and read through the entire document, his brows furrowing as he skimmed the paper.
“I don’t understand,” he said to Nate, glancing up.
“Neither do we, Mr. Lawton.” Angel moved the baby and leaned forward on her seat.
“Do you have a lot of contact with,” Damian referred to the paper, “Mr. and Mrs. Belford?”
Nate shook his head. “My deceased wife’s parents have visited our home to see their grandchildren exactly twice. They came right after Matt’s birth, and never again until almost a year ago. My boys didn’t even know them.” Nate’s jaw worked as he finished speaking.
“Well. That’s certainly an interesting fact. I wonder what’s motivating them to seek guardianship?”
“The only thing I can think of is a religious issue.”