Her father searched for the next handhold as he descended closer to the lamb. The frightened animal continued to issue pitiful cries that twisted Maggie’s heart. Finally, her father reached the stranded lamb and quickly secured the rope around him. He looked up and called to her, “I’m going to climb up, but I need both hands. You’ll have to pull up the lamb. But be careful. Don’t get too close to the edge, and be sure of your footing.”
Maggie hopped up. “I’m ready!” She tightened her grip on the rope and pulled it up a few feet. The lamb was surprisingly heavy. She took a step back, securing her feet behind a large rock, and pulled up the rope another foot.
“Take it slow,” her father called.
From where she stood, Maggie couldn’t see her father, but she trusted his voice, adjusted her grip on the rope, and pulled slower.
“That’s the way.” A few seconds later Father called, “Hold it right there.”
Maggie locked her arms, straining against the pull of the rope, and waited.
Finally, Father’s head appeared above the edge of the cliff, his face red and his cap askew, but he sent her a broad smile. Then he climbed up over the edge and grabbed hold of the rope. “I’ve got it now. Come help me, and we’ll bring him up over the top.”
Maggie scrambled back to her father’s side, and together they lifted the lamb up over the rocks beside them.
The lamb squirmed and bleated. Maggie knelt next to him and ran a hand over his soft wooly coat. “Is he hurt?”
“It doesn’t seem so, but let me take a look.” Father did a quick assessment while Maggie held the rope tight. “He looks all right. Let’s see if we can lead him down to the rest of the herd.”
Father held out his hand, and Maggie handed him the rope. The frisky lamb tugged ahead. After they’d gone a few steps, Father had to adjust the rope around the lamb’s neck and midsection. “He seems like a strong little fellow.”
About ten minutes later, they reached the bottom of the trail and started across the sheep pasture. The lamb bleated and tugged hard on the rope again.
“It seems our little friend is eager to return to his family.”
Maggie grinned and nodded. “Shall I untie him?”
“Yes, I think he’s safe now.”
She quickly loosened the rope, and the lamb leaped away and ran across the pasture toward a group of ewes. They welcomed him back with bleats that echoed up the hillside.
Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she watched the happy reunion. “I’m glad he’s safely home with his family.”
Father nodded, his eyes shining. “So you think it was worth the risk to rescue him?”
“Oh yes. I’m glad we did.”
“You weren’t so sure at first, up on the trail.”
“I was afraid you’d fall and I wouldn’t know how to save you.”
“Faith is the antidote to fear, Maggie. I’m not talking about wishful-thinking kind of faith, but genuine trust and belief in God’s goodness and love.”
Maggie tried to understand what he meant, but she wasn’t certain.
“You must never let fear stop you from doing what the Lord calls you to do.” Father’s eyes glowed with sincerity. “Especially when it’s in the service of those who cannot help themselves.”
She swallowed and nodded, taking his words to heart.
“Maggie?” Grandmother’s voice brought her back to the moment. “My goodness. You seem to be miles away.”
“I was just…remembering something that happened a long time ago.”
Grandmother sent her a curious glance.
Nate stepped into her line of vision. “I hope it was a pleasant memory.”
“Yes, it was.” Looking at Nate, she couldn’t help but sense his likeness to her father.
“What do you think of Nate’s idea?” Grandmother asked.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear what he said.”
“I’m going to Heatherton tomorrow afternoon, and I thought you might like to come along. I hope to meet with Reverend Samuelson, then we could make some inquiries and see about rebuilding your shop.”
Maggie’s heart lifted. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Nate.”
He nodded. “That way, when the insurance money arrives, you’ll have a plan in place and be ready to move ahead.”
Grandmother stepped closer and linked her arm through Maggie’s. “That’s a fine idea, isn’t it, Maggie?” Before she could answer, Grandmother continued, “I can already see us in our new shop, greeting our customers and friends and making the loveliest hats.”
Maggie patted Grandmother’s hand. She hoped Nate and Grandmother were right and the insurance company would soon provide enough money to put them back in business…but what if their claim was denied? And what if the money from Nate wasn’t enough to rebuild? How would she provide for her grandmother and sister?
She pushed those thoughts away for now. Perhaps it was time she put some of that faith her father spoke about into practice.
Maggie didn’t have a moment alone to read more of Helen Harcourt’s diary until the next morning after breakfast. Grandmother took Violet up to the bedroom to do a fitting of her new pink dress. Maggie followed them up, then slipped the diary into the folds of her dress and took it outside to a quiet spot in the corner of the garden. She settled on a wooden bench in the shade of a cedar tree and opened to the page she’d marked with the ribbon attached to the spine.
A chill ran through her as she read the entry for August 13 again. Who was the mysterious R. Helen had mentioned? And what could the reference to “one week” mean? She had no idea how to find the answers to her questions without asking someone else. But whom could she trust?
She turned the page to the next entry and glanced at the date.
Shock jolted through her, and she looked away. Clenching her jaw, she turned back and focused on the diary again.
22 August 1899
We received the most disturbing news today. Daniel Lounsbury, his wife, and eldest daughter drowned in Tumbledon Lake this afternoon. We are stunned and can hardly believe it’s true. The staff were visibly shaken when they were told, and one of the maids broke down in tears. Mr. Harcourt is shocked and grieved for the loss of the man he believed was his friend.
The timing of it is certainly surprising. It is a tragedy to be sure, but it means Daniel Lounsbury will no longer be able to carry out his threat against us, and for that I am glad.
The two younger daughters survived, and now we must decide what to do with them. Margaret, the older girl, is seventeen, but she is too young to take care of her much younger sister on her own. They have a grandmother in the village, but she is ill and elderly and cannot take them. There is an aunt in Scotland. Sending them to her seems the most likely course of action. We’ve sent one of the maids to stay with them tonight.
Mr. Harcourt considered sending a message to Nathaniel and calling him home from Huntsford Hall, but I convinced him to wait. I do not want to interrupt his visit. My hope is that he will become better acquainted with his second cousin, Amelia. She is an accomplished young woman of marriageable age and would be a good match for Nathaniel. It’s time he made his choice and settled down. I’ve had more than enough of his free-spirited gallivanting around the estate with no purpose or direction.
The Lounsburys have no other family nearby, so it is left up to Mr. Harcourt to see that funeral arrangements are made. I can’t even think about it and doubt I will attend. The sooner we get past this dreadful incident and put it out of our minds, the better.
Clara says she is growing too big for her pony and is begging for a new horse for her fourteenth birthday. I told Mr. Harcourt to ask Mr. Kennedy to start the search. Her birthday is less than a month away, and I don’t want her to be disappointed.
Tears stung Maggie’s eyes, but she blinked them away. How could Helen Harcourt write about the deaths of her parents and sister one moment and the next about ordering a horse for Clara? How could she be so coldhearte
d?
Maggie shook her head. As much as Helen’s careless words hurt, Maggie must set aside her emotions and look at the facts.
Scanning the entry once more, she frowned. Helen seemed surprised about the boating accident. That cast doubt on her being the one behind it. But she could have written the entry that way to avoid suspicion. She seemed to write freely about her feelings and actions, but perhaps it was all done to cover up her shocking crime.
Her mention of Maggie’s father carrying out a threat against them matched what Maggie had read in her father’s journal. Maggie considered her father’s determination to report what he’d seen to Mr. Harcourt a warning rather than a threat, but Helen was motivated by the fear of being found out and her desire to continue deceiving her husband. While her father was motivated by honor and loyalty to his friend and employer.
But that day on Tumbledon Lake had changed everything. Daniel Lounsbury, his wife, and eldest daughter had perished before the deadline he’d given Mrs. Harcourt, and Helen’s secret had drowned with them.
Except for the entry he’d written in his journal. But that had burned in the fire, and now Maggie was the only one who knew the truth about Mrs. Harcourt and her disloyal and deceptive ways.
Maggie reread Helen’s statement about being glad she didn’t have to worry about Maggie’s father’s threat and released a shuddering breath. How selfish and disgusting! But there was nothing there to prove she had plotted to drown Maggie’s family.
She scanned the paragraph about Nate, and the ache in her heart eased a bit. His stepmother’s words confirmed everything Nate had told her. He was not at Morningside the day of the accident, and his parents had not called him home after. The reason for that was clear as well. Helen hoped he would choose Amelia as his future wife.
Had Nate considered proposing to her? As far as Maggie could remember, Nate had never mentioned her, except when she had attended his father’s funeral. The image of the pretty blonde standing with Clara by the carriage after the graveside service rose in Maggie’s mind, and a tremor passed through her. Did Helen still hope that Nate would marry Amelia now that he’d returned to Morningside?
An unexpected ache swelled in Maggie’s chest, and she lifted her hand to her heart. Why was she even considering those questions? Nate was a friend who had stepped forward to help her and her family in their time of need. She could not expect anything more from him, no matter how much she wished the situation were different.
That thought surprised her, but she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. Though she’d tried to guard her heart, her attraction to Nate was growing stronger every day. The more time she spent with him, the more she admired him, and the more she wished—
Enough! She rose from the garden bench and strode back toward the house, tucking Helen Harcourt’s diary into the folds of her skirt again. It was past time she reined in her emotions and put romantic thoughts of Nate out of her mind. If she didn’t, she was bound for heartache.
Nate adjusted his cap, lowered his goggles, and glanced across at Maggie. “Are you ready?”
She looked over her shoulder to the motorcar’s backseat, checking on her grandmother and Violet. The older woman slipped her arm around Violet’s shoulders and nodded.
Maggie turned back with a smile. “We’re ready if you are.”
She looked quite fetching as she settled back on the padded bench seat next to him. Her blue dress was almost the same color as her eyes, and she’d tied a filmy white veil over her broad-brimmed hat and knotted it under her chin. A few strands of her dark-brown hair peeked out from under her hat and curled around her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she gripped the armrest on her side.
“You’ve nothing to fear. I’ve been practicing every day. You’re quite safe.”
She eased her hand into her lap. “I’m sure you wouldn’t suggest we ride along with you unless that was true. Still, it’s my first time in a motorcar, and I’m not quite sure what to expect.”
“I’d say you’re in for a great surprise.” He took hold of the steering wheel and signaled the young man standing out front to turn the crank. The engine roared to life. Nate adjusted the choke and slowly pressed the gas pedal. The car rolled forward, he shifted gears, and they set off down the drive, headed for the iron bridge over the ravine.
It was a perfect day for a drive. The roads were dry, and only a few clouds were scattered across the sky. Once they passed the main gate and set off on a relatively straight road, he would take the motorcar up to twenty miles per hour. At that speed they would reach Heatherton in a matter of minutes.
The wind rushed past as they picked up speed, and Maggie lifted her hand to her hat. Her smile spread wider, and she looked across at him with shining eyes.
“You like it?” he called over the roar of the motor.
“Yes! It’s wonderful!”
He grinned and then glanced at the backseat. Violet waved and sent him a gleeful smile, and Mrs. Hayes looked almost as delighted as her granddaughters. He chuckled as he focused on the road again.
Bringing Maggie, her grandmother, and Violet to Morningside had been an excellent idea. Their presence lifted the gloomy atmosphere that seemed to shroud the house. He looked forward to his conversations with Maggie, their rides across the estate, and their strolls through the gardens. Those times reminded him of how they used to take walks through the countryside with her father, collecting plant specimens and observing the birds and animals. Those were happy memories he was glad to call to mind.
But the most pleasing turn of events was Maggie’s growing openness toward him. He rarely saw the cool formality she’d shown the first few days of her stay. She seemed to have overcome her ill feelings toward his father, and that eased his mind.
There was still a strained distance between Maggie and his stepmother, but he wouldn’t blame her for that. Helen had been cool and unpleasant since the day they’d arrived. She continued to make her feelings obvious most evenings at dinner by excluding Maggie from the conversation. And when she did speak to her, her remarks were brief and condescending.
He tried to ease the situation by bringing Maggie into the conversation when he could. She answered his questions politely and seemed to appreciate his efforts, but he could see his stepmother was not pleased.
His thoughts shifted to Helen’s private comments to him about Maggie’s father and his attempts to blackmail Nate’s father.
Had Daniel Lounsbury actually planned to extort money from his father? It seemed very unlikely. Mr. Lounsbury had always spoken highly of Nate’s father and shown him the utmost respect. But if it wasn’t true, why would Helen relay the story? What could she gain by blackening the name of a man who’d been dead for almost four years?
He shook off those disturbing thoughts. Until he knew more about the situation or had it confirmed by someone besides his stepmother, he would not credit the story or hold it against his memory of Daniel Lounsbury. More important, he certainly would not allow it to color his opinion of Maggie. Even if by some strange circumstance it happened to be true, it was in the past and had nothing to do with her. She was innocent of any plot against his family and deserved much better treatment than she had been receiving from Helen.
He hoped to make up for his stepmother’s behavior and unkind remarks by helping Maggie and Mrs. Hayes find a respected builder who could be trusted to repair their millinery shop. It would take time to clear away the rubble, raise the walls and roof, and finish the interior. Then they would have to restock their shelves before they could open for business again.
The money Maggie had finally agreed to accept from him would get them started, and when the insurance claim was settled, they’d have more than enough to finish the job.
A frown creased his forehead. As soon as the shop was repaired, their stay at Morningside would end. Maggie would move back to the village and take up her life where it had left off…and he didn’t like the sound of that at all.
Maggie fe
lt almost breathless as the motorcar flew down the road, whizzing past hedgerows and fields dotted with sheep. What a thrill to see it all and be seated next to Nate on her very first motorcar ride.
She stole a glance at him, and her lips tipped up in a smile. He looked quite handsome wearing his motoring cap and goggles, his face red from the wind. Though he was a relatively new driver, he handled the motorcar with ease and confidence. He’d proven his skills by guiding them safely around several rough spots in the road and avoiding a collision with a stray sheep.
As they approached the village, he downshifted and slowed the motorcar to a respectable speed. She relaxed back in the seat, glad he would not race through the village like that careless man who had struck and injured her sister.
Nate adjusted his gloved hands on the steering wheel and glanced her way. “Where would you like to go first?”
“Could you take us to Mrs. Fenwick’s Teashop? I’m going to ask her to watch Violet while we meet with the builders.” She hoped their friend wouldn’t mind caring for her sister while Maggie, her grandmother, and Nate took care of their business in the village.
Nate nodded and rounded the next corner. Three women ran past, followed by an older man quickly limping along with a young boy of nine or ten. Maggie scanned their anxious faces. Why were they in such a hurry?
The sound of shouts rose in the distance, and Maggie shot a glance at Nate.
“Something’s not right.” He lifted his goggles and scanned the street as two more women hurried past. He pulled the car to the side of the road but left the engine idling.
Martha Hemsworth, the druggist’s wife, scurried toward them, carrying a large wicker basket over her arm. “Oh, Maggie, there’s trouble coming!”
Maggie sat forward. “What is it, Martha? Why is everyone running?”
The plump woman fanned her red face. “There’s a crowd of men gathered on the village green.” She wagged her head toward the center of town. “One of them is shouting and stirring up the others.”
Shine Like the Dawn Page 20
