With a wry smile, Mrs. Hollister replied, “Oh, I’m sure I would.” She paused to reflect. “Lately I’ve been taking a good look at myself and asking, why should I tolerate Malcolm and his threats? How dare he tell me what to do?” She firmly nodded her chin. “This is my house, and I’ll do what I please. I have plenty of room. Yancy, go get those girls. I want them here.”
* * * *
What a transformation! When the two little sisters arrived at the house on Nob Hill, grimy looking in their ragged clothes, they’d clung fearfully together, not knowing what was to become of them. Belle and Bertha pitched in and gave them baths while Mrs. Hollister bustled about in the bedroom that had belonged to the daughter who’d died of diphtheria all those years ago. She’d kept the room just as it was, including the little girl’s clothing piled neatly in the drawers of the fruitwood bureau or left hanging in the walnut-carved armoire.
Now, only hours later, Susan and Helen couldn’t contain their excitement. “Look at us,” Helen exclaimed. Both she and her sister were twirling around, admiring themselves in the full-length mirror. Each had a big bow in their hair that now shone and hung prettily around their shoulders. Each wore a ruffled dress—Susan’s pink, Helen’s blue—with a matching satin sash tied in a big bow in the back. Each wore pantalets.
Mrs. Hollister stood watching, a gleam of pride in her eyes. “How do you think they look? It’s been forty years since Charlotte died, yet except for the pantalets, styles for little girls haven’t changed all that much. I shall buy them the proper undergarments tomorrow.”
“They look marvelous.” Deeply moved by the older woman’s joy, Belle added, “It’s so kind of you to do this.”
“I haven’t felt this good in years.” Mrs. Hollister looked toward the dollhouse which the two little girls had quickly spotted. Both now knelt on their knees in front of it, gazing in awe.
Susan clasped her hands together. “Look at the teeny furniture.”
“And the little pots and pans and dishes in the kitchen,” cried Helen.
With a couple of grunts caused by her rheumatism, Mrs. Hollister knelt beside them and reached into the dollhouse, into what looked like the library. “See what’s on the bookshelves?” She pulled out a tiny, but real-looking book.
The girls laughed with delight. Helen asked, “Can we play with the dollhouse, Mrs. Hollister?”
“Indeed you can, and you can call me Aunt Edith from now on.” Mrs. Hollister gazed up at Belle. “In celebration of our new arrivals, we shall dine in the dining room tonight.”
Malcolm and Eugenia. Instantly wary, Belle dreaded the thought of another scene in the dining room like the one on the night Luther arrived. “You don’t think—?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”
This time, Mrs. Hollister had a glint of determination in her eye that Belle hadn’t seen before.
* * * *
That night, Belle enjoyed the sight of Luther and his sisters at the dinner table. The two little girls gazed in growing amazement at the food being served. “We mostly ate porridge at the Sheltons’,” said Susan as she finished the first course of mock turtle soup. When Bertha set a plate of scalloped oysters in front of her, Susan’s eyes went wide. “You mean there’s more?”
The sisters’ wonderment grew as Bertha served course after course: glazed salmon, prime rib roast accompanied by mashed potatoes, scalloped Brussels sprouts, green peas, followed by a salad, ending with a delicious mousse au chocolat for dessert.
At the end of the meal, both girls sat back, blissfully content. Helen asked, “Do you always eat this way?”
“Indeed, we do,” a smiling Mrs. Hollister replied. “You’ll never go hungry in this house.” Belle had never seen her so happy. It was as if she’d finally found the real purpose of her life.
As far as Belle was concerned, the evening was perfect with only one exception. Malcolm and Eugenia sat through dinner hardly saying a word. They didn’t have to. Their compressed lips and withering glances clearly indicated their intense disapproval of the three orphans’ presence at their dinner table. Knowing Malcolm, Belle was sure he’d soon be speaking his mind. Poor Mrs. Hollister was in for another lecture, and probably another threat to have her declared incompetent. She had stated she’d stand up to her son this time, but would she? Belle could only hope her kindhearted employer wouldn’t let herself be intimidated yet again by her greedy son.
Belle was right. After the girls had been put to bed, Malcolm summoned his mother to the drawing room. She was gone a long time and had a strange expression on her face when she returned to the back parlor. “Is everything all right?” Belle asked.
“Everything is fine. I gave Malcolm and Eugenia their notice. They’ll be leaving in two weeks or less.”
“How…how…?” Belle sputtered.
“How did I get up the courage to do it? Well, for one thing, I know I’m not crazy. How could Malcolm even hint that I was? Also, I took your advice and went to see that nice Mr. Canfield at the Bank of the Golden Gate. He informed me that my son has no business controlling my money unless I want him to. It’s mine to do with what I please. I’ve already signed the papers to transfer my accounts. From now on, Mr. Canfield will be in charge of my investments.”
“And what of Malcolm?”
“He is my son after all, and I won’t put him out on the streets. He’ll be receiving a small stipend, enough to live on comfortably.” She shook her head regretfully. “He didn’t take it well, I’m afraid, but you would have been proud of me. He’s been robbing me blind for years. Up to now, I was weak and let him get away with it, but no more. Tonight I stood my ground and will continue to do so.”
“I’m so happy to hear it.” Belle gave her employer a hug. “If anyone deserves some happiness, it’s you.”
Mrs. Hollister looked absolutely radiant. “Ah, Belle, if you hadn’t sat next to me on the train, this would never have happened. You’re the one who gave me the strength to stand up to him. Now look what’s happened. Luther and those two little girls have given me a new lease on life.”
Belle gave a modest shrug. “You did it yourself.”
“No, it was you, Belle, and I can only hope”—Mrs. Hollister made a little moue—“it’s not my business, and I don’t know all your reasons, but in my humble opinion you’re a fool to let Yancy go. He’s a fine man, and if you’re thinking you can find anyone finer, then I wish you luck because you’ll need it.”
Belle let out a sigh. “You could be right.”
“I know I’m right. Now let’s go upstairs and check on the girls, shall we? If there’s anything more endearing than watching little children as they sleep, I don’t know what it is.”
* * * *
Retiring to her room that night, Belle breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Today everything had gone right. Luther’s little sisters had been rescued. Mrs. Hollister had got her spine back, and the horrible Malcolm and Eugenia would soon be gone. This was a day far different from the one when she’d run away from Roberto and ended up lost and desperate on the streets of San Francisco. Today only thoughts of Yancy McLeish cast a shadow over her heart. That he loved her, there could be no doubt. That she loved him? No doubt about that, either. But the problem was, everything had changed, yet nothing had changed. Marry the Yankee soldier? If she did, she knew herself too well to believe she’d never regret cutting herself off from her family for the rest of her life.
So far, she’d managed to save most of the money she’d earned. She didn’t have enough to get home on yet, but she would soon. And meanwhile…
The more she saw Yancy, the worse would be the pain when she finally left. If she had any sense, she’d tell him she didn’t want to see him again. If she had any sense, but when it came to Yancy McLeish, she was beginning to realize, she had no sense at all.
Chapter 20
In the
days that followed, Belle found herself busier than ever. Luther hadn’t been to school since he was twelve. Realizing how far he lagged behind, she, with help from Mrs. Hollister, acquired the books he needed to catch up, and tutored him every afternoon after he’d finished his work in the stables. She could hardly keep up with him. He absorbed information like a sponge, always eager for more
Impressed by Luther’s swift progress, Belle told her employer, “He’s very bright and should aim for that new university that just opened in Berkeley across the bay.”
She saw Yancy a lot, more than she planned to, but he was always suggesting delightful outings with the children, and she could hardly refuse. Those were the happiest of days, when she and Yancy, along with Susan, Helen, Beth, Richard, and sometimes Luther, if he wasn’t busy in the stable, took in the many delightful sights San Francisco had to offer. Sometimes Mrs. Hollister came along if her rheumatism didn’t bother her too much. They went to the zoo at Woodward’s Gardens again, this time visiting the aviary and snake house. They went on a picnic in Golden Gate Park and spent another enjoyable afternoon on the beach beneath the Cliff House. The children got along well, and so did she and Yancy. Sometimes when she looked at him, her heart ached with longing, but they were “just friends” now. She wouldn’t dream of acting otherwise, and apparently neither would he.
Lately, Yancy had been spending much of his time with Reverend Madrid. Two or three nights a week, they searched for homeless children along the wicked streets of the Barbary Coast. On one such night, Yancy found Arthur Sweeney, the boy who’d led him to Luther. Now off the streets, living in the orphanage, Arthur faced a much brighter future. Yancy didn’t say much, but Belle suspected he’d become deeply involved in the reverend’s plan to replace the makeshift orphanage with a much-needed home for boys and girls, befitting a city the size of San Francisco. One day Yancy took Belle for a visit. The instant she saw those homeless little children, her heart went out to them, and before long she was reading Jack and the Beanstalk to a group of little ones gathered around. Afterward, the reverend drew her aside. “I see you have a way with the little ones,” he said. “We need volunteers, and if you could give us a bit of your time, we’d be delighted to have you.”
Belle thought that was a fine idea, and after checking with Mrs. Hollister, who also thought that was a fine idea, she started spending time at the orphanage. At first she did nothing more than play games with the little ones and read them stories. Before long, her natural teaching skills emerged, and she was helping children who’d never been to school to read, write, and know their numbers.
“Do you enjoy it?” Yancy asked her one day.
“I love it.” What a joy to work with the lost little children of this world. Never had she felt so useful, so needed.
Yancy appeared to feel the same. “As you know, Ronald left me a lot of money, and I’ve been thinking I might put it to good use.”
“You mean like building a new orphanage?”
“That’s what I mean.”
She said no more on the subject but his reply set her to wondering. If Yancy got involved in building an orphanage, how could he possibly be going home to his cabin by the lake anytime soon, if ever?
* * * *
One bright, sunny Sunday, Belle, Yancy, and the children were leaving the house for a picnic when Richard spoke up. “Father used to take us to Meiggs Wharf. It was fun. Can we go again?”
Meiggs Wharf, where Roberto kept his fishing boat. Belle had been so busy she hardly thought about Roberto Romano anymore, but the mere mention of Meiggs Wharf brought back painful memories and more than a little anxiety. What if Roberto saw her? Who knew what he would do? He probably thought she was back in Savannah by now, and she’d very much like to keep it that way.
Yancy must have sensed her unease. After a quick glance at Belle, he replied, “Sorry, Richard, we won’t have time.”
With an eight-year-old’s enthusiasm, Richard replied, “Oh, yes, we would!”
“It would be fun to see all the ships,” said Luther. “The girls would like it, too.”
Above all else, Belle hated to disappoint the children. She dreaded the thought of running into Roberto Romano, but this was Sunday, wasn’t it? The so-called day of rest when the Romanos would all go to church and not do anything resembling work. Meiggs Wharf was the last place on earth they’d be. She pulled Yancy aside. “The boats don’t go out on Sunday. Roberto won’t be there. I think it would be all right.”
Yancy frowned with concern. “Not a good idea, Belle. Why take a chance?”
“I hate to disappoint the children. Even if I saw Roberto, which is highly unlikely, what could he do?”
Yancy pondered a moment. “I’m against it, but if you insist—”
“I insist,” she said, laughing. She turned to the children. “You win. We’re going to Meiggs Wharf.”
Seeing the smiles on their faces was all the reward she needed. Besides, she’d be silly to worry. Life was good now. That whole episode with Roberto and his family was nothing but a fading memory.
When they arrived at Meiggs Wharf, they found a festive atmosphere where couples, whole families, and lots of children mingled, everyone looking happy, expecting a good time. As Yancy, Belle, and all five children began their stroll along the wharf, they sniffed the crisp, clean smell of the bay mixed with the aromas from fish of all kinds, freshly baked bread, spices from ships newly arrived from the Orient. They strolled past shops and food booths, listened to an organ grinder, stopped at a shooting gallery where the boys tried their skills, and Yancy showed them how. The crowds thinned as they passed the last of the shops and came upon the fishing fleet, all boats tied to their stanchions in observance of Sunday. Up to now, Belle hadn’t a care, and had simply been enjoying herself, but now? She halted in her tracks. Perhaps she’d be foolish to go any farther.
“What are we stopping for?” Richard asked. “Aren’t we going to see the fishing boats?”
“Just resting a moment.”
Yancy regarded her with concern. “You don’t have to go any farther. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t.”
Belle truly wanted to stop, but the children would be disappointed, especially Richard, who had an avid interest in all modes of transportation, and that included trains, the under-construction cable car system, and, of course, boats of all kinds. She started to walk again. “I want to see the boats, too,” she breezily called. They continued along the wharf and began to pass the sailboats of the fishing fleet, all of them deserted this Sunday afternoon. Most were painted green, just as Tony had said, with the names of patron saints painted on the hulls. As they passed, Richard read the names aloud. “Rose of Lima, Thomas Aquinas, Florian—”
Belle stopped short. “Florian? That’s Roberto’s boat.” It looked deserted like all the rest, but even so, her stomach clenched tight.
“We’re going back right now,” Yancy said. He called to the children, “We’ve gone far enough.”
Just as Belle was turning around, a man appeared on the deck of the Florian. Tall and muscular…full head of hair…handsome face…Tony Romano! Thank God it was him, not Roberto.
He was looking straight at her with a puzzled expression. His face lit with recognition. “Miss Ainsworth, is that you?”
She could hardly get the words out. “Yes, Tony, it’s me.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” With one easy leap, Tony was off the boat, standing in front of her. “What happened? We thought you’d be back in Savannah by now, but you’re still here?” A sudden frown creased his forehead. “Look, I don’t want to sound rude, but I think you’d better go. Roberto’s here, down in the cabin. If he sees you here, he’s not going to like it. He was pretty mad when you ran off like you did, and I don’t think you’d want to—” He gazed back at the boat. Here came Roberto, climbing to the deck. “Uh-oh, he’s coming. Better get out of here.”
>
Belle had every intention of leaving, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She stood frozen, her gaze fastened on the man she nearly married as he emerged from the cabin, crossed the deck, clasped the railing, and gazed at her with an expression that slowly changed from mild curiosity to… He’d recognized her! She could tell by the slight lift of his eyebrows. Other than that, his expression didn’t change. He simply stood staring at her, his face unreadable. Even so, although she couldn’t define it, something in his expression sent a chill through her. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten.
Yancy took her arm and spoke softly in her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
She allowed herself to be led away. They were nearly off the wharf before she got her voice back. “Did you see him?” she asked Yancy. “That was Roberto Romano.”
“I gathered that.”
“He hates me.”
“I gathered that, too.”
“I owe you an apology. You told me not to go to Meiggs Wharf, but I went anyway.”
Yancy smiled generously. “You’re forgiven. Are you all right? Your face is pale.”
Belle’s pulse still raced. She needed to calm herself. If she didn’t, she’d upset the children. “I’m fine now. I didn’t like the way he looked at me, but why worry? He has no idea where I live, and in a city this size, how could he ever find me?”
Yancy remained oddly silent.
“You don’t think he could, could he?”
“I think you’d better be careful. Come on, let’s go home.”
Chapter 21
By the third day after her visit to Meiggs Wharf, Belle was back to her sunny mood. Seeing Roberto had been a shock, but why worry? Even if he could find her, why would he want to? She must have been mistaken about the malice she thought she’d seen on his face. He was merely surprised when he saw her on the wharf, just as she was surprised to see him. She doubted he’d entirely forgotten, but being the busy man that he was, by now he would have accepted his loss and moved on. She certainly had. With her duties as Mrs. Hollister’s companion and her work at the orphanage, her life had become so full she had no time to worry over what Roberto Romano might do. She still spent time with Yancy, too. He was always coming up with new ideas for fun with the children, and she gladly went along. Being “just friends” was hard as ever, but she’d made up her mind. She would return to Savannah as soon as she’d saved enough money, and that wouldn’t take much longer.
Bay City Belle Page 22
