by Merry Farmer
“What?”
He rolled his shoulders as if she’d forced him into an audience with the queen in his skivvies and repeated, “Willamette. It’s the Willamette River. The one on the other side is the Columbia.”
Josephine stared at him. And stared. That was it?
“Mrs. Fielding must be prosperous,” she went on, baffled by his cryptic behavior. “I was impressed by her house when I came by to make an appointment for a tour yesterday. Well, the outside at least. I am willing to wager that the inside is just as nice.”
“Hmm,” Pete grunted.
Men . Was it so difficult for them to put two words together to carry on a conversation?
They reached the front door of Mrs. Fielding’s house, and Josephine let go of Pete’s arm long enough to step up and knock. As they waited, Josephine glanced around. Mrs. Fielding’s house was in a sort of cove, a cluster of houses close to the river. Five other houses of the same build stood nearby, each one carefully whitewashed. There was something careful about all of the houses, something…planned. And yet, to the untrained eye, the cove appeared to be prosperous and peaceful.
The only other person in sight was a young woman—hired help, by the look of her simple clothes—sweeping the front stoop of a house kitty-cornered to Mrs. Fielding’s house. She peeked at Josephine and Pete with furtive eyes without skipping a beat in her work. The poor thing didn’t seem particularly happy with her lot.
Josephine was spared wondering more about what could make a pretty young woman look so miserable when Mrs. Fielding’s door opened.
“Ah, Mrs. Fielding. I’ve brought Mr. Peter Evans with me. We’ve come for our tour.” Josephine smiled in satisfaction, gesturing to Pete.
Mrs. Fielding couldn’t have been much older than Josephine, but she had more lines on her face. Her clothes were elegant and tidy, and her hair was styled in the latest fashion, but when she smiled, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Miss Lewis, yes.” She said, then stepped back and gestured for Josephine and Pete to enter the house. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Ma’am.” Pete removed his hat as he stepped past Mrs. Fielding and into the hall. He glanced up, studying the front hallway, the staircase leading up to the second floor, and the parlor off to the side.
“My, but your house is lovely.” Josephine complimented her right off the bat. “So spacious. No wonder you take children in.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Fielding marched past Pete to stand by Josephine’s side, inviting her into the parlor. “My late husband was in trade. I still have a share in his business, though I leave the operations to his partner. We still work closely together.”
“It’s always reassuring to hear about men and women being able to work together and prosper,” Josephine couldn’t help but say. She sent Pete a sly look as she did.
Pete arched his eyebrow and twirled his hat in restless hands.
Mrs. Fielding’s smile remained tight, but at least it was in place. “This is the front parlor, where formal visits are held. Through this way is the dining room.”
They followed her on to a wide room—wider than the dining room at Myrtle’s boarding house—with a long table and benches. The table was covered with a spotless white cloth, a bowl of flowers in the center.
“We take meals together. Sometimes we indulge in the summer and picnic outside along the river.” Mrs. Fielding gestured to the curtained windows and the green lawn outside. “The play room is across the hall this way.”
The tour continued. Josephine and Pete were shown a lovely play room filled with all sorts of toys and dolls. Upstairs they were treated to the sight of three large bedrooms, one for the boys, one for the girls, and one for babies. They passed several doors that remained closed, some of which were family quarters and one of which was a schoolroom.
“The children are at their lessons now,” Mrs. Fielding explained. “I don’t believe it is good to disturb them, particularly when they are practicing silent reading.”
“Right.” Josephine nodded, though something itched at the back of her neck. “Do…do you choose their reading material or do you have a library from which the children can choose?”
Mrs. Fielding tilted her head to the side to consider the question before answering, “We employ a combination of both. Sometimes, I find, children are quite circumspect in their choice of books, so I do not feel the need to step in and choose for them.”
“I see.”
“Now if you will come this way, I will show you out.” Mrs. Fielding held out a hand, inviting Josephine and Pete to precede her down the stairs, across the front hall, and back out to the front yard.
“You could say something, you know,” Josephine whispered, leaning close to Pete as they walked down the stairs.
“Say what?” he whispered right back, more than a little terse.
“I don’t know, ask a question?” Josephine pursed her lips and shook her head at the frustrating man.
“The only questions I have are not ones I’d go asking Mrs. Fielding,” Pete said, opening the front door and gesturing for Josephine to leave.
“Oh? What kind of questions are those?” Josephine stepped past Pete and out into the yard.
Pete didn’t have a chance to answer.
“I trust our establishment meets with your approval?” Mrs. Fielding’s smile was back, and as disconcerting as ever.
“It certainly is a lovely house,” Josephine answered.
“You’ll take all four of the kids?” Pete asked, much more abrupt than Josephine would have been.
“Of course.” Mrs. Fielding clasped her hands in front of her. “The more the better.”
“And you’ll make sure they stay together,” Pete said. It wasn’t a question.
“Absolutely.” Mrs. Fielding’s eyes met his with the same sort of challenge Pete had issued.
“And once Libby and Luke are ready, you’ll let them take their younger siblings and start a house together?” Pete went on.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mrs. Fielding answered.
“Well.” Josephine let out a breath that was supposed to be relief, but felt more like a sigh. “That’s all that we can ask for, then.”
“I assure you, once you hand over the care of your poor orphan friends to me, I’ll make certain their futures are secured.” There was a note of finality to Mrs. Fielding’s statement. “Will you be bringing them later this afternoon, then?”
Josephine swallowed. “So soon?”
“Do you have a reason to delay?” Mrs. Fielding asked.
“No,” Pete answered. “We don’t.”
As much as she wanted to fight it, Josephine knew it was the truth. She couldn’t keep paying for room and board for five people, no matter how generous Myrtle was. And it would do her no good to drag things out. A clean break was best.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll be bringing the children over later tonight,” she said, her voice dropping to a mere whisper by the end.
“Excellent.” Mrs. Fielding nodded in understanding. “I’ll be sure to make your parting as worry-free as possible.”
“Thanks,” Pete grumbled. He grabbed Josephine’s arm and turned to escort her away.
“Oh dear.” The words escaped from Josephine as soon as they were out of the cove and further up the street.
“It’s for the best,” Pete said what she was trying to make herself think.
“I know, I know.” She clutched Pete’s arm with both hands. “Are you certain we’re doing the right thing? You didn’t feel as though there was something…wrong with Mrs. Fielding or the house?”
“It was too quiet,” Pete said.
“Yes, yes, it was.” Josephine latched onto that imperfection. “And too clean for a house that is routinely filled with children.”
“Children can be messy,” Pete agreed.
They were both silent for a few more steps.
“But…if the house is so clean, perhaps that merely shows that
Mrs. Fielding and her staff is contentious about taking care of things,” Josephine figured.
“A clean house is a good place for kids,” Pete agreed.
“And…and the quietness. A peaceful environment is the very best place for a child to learn, right?” She glanced up to Pete, willing him to tell her what she wanted to hear.
“It is.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And if Mrs. Fielding can get a bunch of kids to settle down to read, she might be just what our lot need.”
They both winced at the word ‘our.’
“The kids will be happy there,” Pete went on, his voice gruff. “It’s about time we got a move on anyhow.”
“Yes,” Josephine agreed. “And if they don’t like the look of the place, if they don’t like anything about it, then we won’t leave them there.”
“Damn straight,” Pete growled.
They remained silent for the rest of the walk to the hotel. It didn’t matter how many arguments Josephine came up with for why they were doing the right thing, her heart wouldn’t find rest. It beat like a drum calling soldiers to war…and yet there was nothing to fight. Nothing at all.
“Josephine! Pete!”
They were both pushed out of their silent ruminations as they neared the hotel. Libby came rushing down the porch steps, a smile as wide as the heavens on her face. She held tight to Teddy’s hand, pulling him along with her.
“Oh, Josephine! You’ll never guess,” Libby burst before they met halfway. “Teddy has asked me to marry him.”
“Marry you?” Josephine’s eyes flew wide, and she turned to Teddy. Her emotions were in such a muddle that she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry…or sock Teddy in the eye.
Pete’s reaction was somewhat more decided. “Isn’t it a little quick to go asking a girl to marry you?” he grumbled at Teddy, eyes narrowed.
“Yes, it is, sir.” Teddy inclined his head to Pete, as serious as a clergyman. “But the thing is, I’m due to head out to Mr. Montrose’s logging camp in just a few days. I would spend much more time courting Libby and giving her a chance to decide if I’m the fellow for her, but if we don’t jump in with both feet now, there’s no telling what might happen.”
“You haven’t even known each other a week,” Pete growled on, every bit the protective papa bear.
“Sometimes it doesn’t take a week,” Libby insisted. She pivoted to Teddy, taking his hand in both of hers. “Sometimes you know what is right from the beginning. And sometimes you know it, but you drag your feet and let things fall apart before they can get started,” she finished, a hard edge to her final statement…which was directed straight at Josephine and Pete both.
Pete squirmed under the censure, backing up half a step. Josephine scrambled for some kind of argument to excuse him…and herself.
“And the other thing,” Teddy went on, “is that if Libby and I are married, I’ll be able to ask for a raise. If Mr. Montrose pays me more, together we’ll have more money. That will mean we’ll be able to send for Luke, Freddy, and Muriel that much sooner.”
“We might not even have to wait for Luke to be old enough to get a job before we can gather everyone together,” Libby added.
Josephine had no idea what wages for men in a logging camp were, so she had no way to tell if Libby’s statement was true or a dream. She also didn’t feel as though she had the right to put her foot down and demand Libby wait longer before getting married. She was the one working to put the poor girl’s siblings in an orphanage, after all. She didn’t have a leg to stand on.
“If you think it’s best,” she said with a sigh, letting her shoulders drop. “I only want you and your siblings to be happy and safe.”
“Me too,” Pete added, gruff and frowning, though his cheeks were pink with a blush.
Josephine took a step toward Libby and closed the girl in a tight hug. “You must follow your heart, my dear. In everything.”
She moved to lean away, but Libby held onto her.
“You too, Josephine,” Libby whispered. “You’re not too old or too busy or too occupied elsewhere to fall in love yourself, you know.”
Josephine tried to pull away again. “But—”
“No, I’m tired of hearing you second guess yourself.” Libby’s whisper was firm now. “I want you to be happy too, and you’re happy with Pete.”
“I…” Libby let Josephine go, but when her eyes met Libby’s, any protest she had flittered right out of her mind. All she could manage to say was, “We’ll see.”
Pete cleared his throat and stepped in with, “Josephine here has found a nice home for Luke, Freddy, and Muriel.”
“You have?” Libby glanced from Josephine to Pete and back.
“Yes.” Josephine smoothed a hand over her skirts, then let it rest over her aching heart. “It’s a lovely house run by a Mrs. Fielding. It’s right down next to the river.”
“We’re taking the kids there to stay later this afternoon,” Pete blurted before Josephine could say as much gently.
“This afternoon?” Libby’s excited smile pinched to anxious disappointment.
“We, uh, were planning to talk to the preacher about the wedding this afternoon,” Teddy said.
“And Mrs. Montrose invited me to tea,” Libby added. “Her sons have gone on to take supplies to the logging camp, but she and her daughter, Annabelle, are desperate to meet me formally. They’ve been friends with Teddy for years.”
“We could reschedule,” Teddy said.
“No, no, the orphanage isn’t going anywhere.” Josephine waved away the protest. “We can take the children down and get them settled, and you can drop by and see them tomorrow. In fact, the more we spread out our visits, the more Freddy and Muriel will feel they haven’t been forgotten.”
“You don’t mind, then?” Libby glanced hopefully between Pete and Josephine.
“I don’t mind if Freddy and Muriel don’t,” Josephine answered.
“They won’t mind a bit,” Pete said. “They’ll be too busy exploring their new home and playing in the river to care what us older folk are doing.”
And it would leave one less person on hand to witness Josephine breaking down into tears of grief, which she was certain to do.
Chapter Seven
A s it turned out, Freddy and Muriel did mind.
“I don’t want to go to the orphanage,” Muriel wailed, dragging her feet with every step they took.
“But it’s a lovely place,” Josephine insisted. “Can you see it down there, where those other white houses are? Don’t they look lovely, what with the trees and the gardens and the river running behind them.”
“They look stupid,” Freddy sulked.
Exasperated and heartbroken, Josephine looked again. To her grown-up eyes, the six houses that sat clustered together in the cove were charming and respectable. She could only hope the children would come to see so too. But deep, deep in her heart, every last detail seemed wrong. As nice and pretty as the houses were, they weren’t homes. Mrs. Fielding’s house wasn’t a home. And the Chance children deserved a home.
“There’s a lovely playroom in Mrs. Fielding’s house,” she went on, to convince herself as much as Freddy and Muriel. “It had blocks and dolls and toy soldiers and…” Her voice gave out.
She cast a pitiful, sidelong glance to Pete. Were they doing the right thing?
Pete’s jaw was clamped tight and his eyes fixed straight ahead. He held Muriel’s hand, but as she fussed and whimpered and attempted to dig her heels into the ground, Pete had no choice but to pick her up and carry her.
The moment Muriel was in his arms, she burst into tears and buried her face against his shoulder. Josephine’s throat squeezed so tight it was painful.
They had to be doing the right thing. It was the only option. A stubborn old spinster and a confirmed bachelor couldn’t raise children the way the deserved to be raised. And yet, the more times she paraded the tired argument in her mind, the weaker it sounded. What if she was giving up
without a fight? What if she was a coward?
“Here we are.” Her voice came out rough and squeaky as they turned up the path leading to Mrs. Fielding’s front door. “See how pretty the garden is?”
Neither Freddy nor Muriel had the least interest in the garden. Muriel continued to weep against Pete’s stoic shoulder. Freddy’s lower lip was turned out in a pout, and he kicked a small stone in his path so hard it smacked against the house’s front steps. Luke followed behind, carrying all of his and his siblings’ belongings in two carpetbags, one in each hand. When Josephine turned to check on him before climbing the stairs to the front door, she couldn’t determine what his feelings on the situation were. His expression was so blank that it sent chills down her back.
Chills and the sense that he would never forgive her for what would happen in the next fifteen minutes.
Pete stepped past her and knocked on the door with one hand while holding Muriel close with the other. Without a word and with nothing more than a scowl, he stepped back to wait.
Within seconds, the front door opened, revealing Mrs. Fielding and her cheerless smile.
“Hello,” she said clasping her hands in front of her. “Who do we have here?”
She was a pleasant woman to look at in spite of her age, and nothing about the way she was dressed or the way she carried herself or spoke was intimidating, but Freddy took a step back, turning to glance to Luke for help, and Muriel tensed, keeping her face buried in Pete’s neck.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Fielding.” Josephine faked as much cheer as she could…which wasn’t a lot. “I’d like to introduce you to the Chance children, Muriel, Freddy, and Luke.” She pivoted to gesture to each one as she spoke their name.
Mrs. Fielding smiled at Freddy and Muriel. When she lifted her gaze to study Luke, her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed in consideration. “Why, you’re nearly a man.”
“I am a man,” Luke retorted.
“Luke, manners,” Pete warned him.
“I am a man, ma’am,” Luke grumbled.
Josephine rolled her eyes. “You see, children, the house is every bit as lovely as I told you it was.”
