Love Inspired Historical November 2014

by Danica Favorite

  Regina sent a subtle signal to Mrs. Peavy, and the older woman made her exit, taking Jack with her. Then she turned to Mr. Tucker. “Thank you so much for your assistance getting these inside. I’ll just help Eileen get everything put away before I go.”

  This time Mr. Tucker took the not-very-subtle hint. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I’ll leave you ladies to it. I think I’ll check in on Molly to make sure she stays put this time.” He gave Regina another of those warm smiles. “Thanks again for the food, ma’am.”

  Once he’d gone, Eileen turned to Regina. “It’s really not necessary for you to stay and help me. You’ve done enough already.” She really wasn’t comfortable having people poking around in her cupboards and closets.

  Regina opened one of the hampers. “I don’t mind. And there’s something else I wanted to say.”

  Eileen steeled herself. Was Regina, like Miss Ortolon, concerned with her suitability to house young children? Was this to be some sort of advice or condition set down for her?

  But there was no hint of censure in Regina’s expression. “Daisy and I discussed how children can be hard on dishes, and it didn’t seem right that you should bear the brunt of that. So she sent over some of the plates from her restaurant that have seen a bit too much wear and that she was ready to take out of service. I hope you don’t mind. They have some small chips and cracks but are still serviceable.”

  Regina seemed to sense her hesitation. “If you’d rather not use them, that’s okay, too. But Daisy wanted me to assure you that either way she doesn’t need them back—she was ready to replace them anyway.”

  Had these women suspected her true circumstances and decided to offer her charity? That was a lowering thought, but Eileen couldn’t afford to turn down the offer. She hadn’t given much thought to place settings, but she’d be hard-pressed to set a table for the ten children, much less the full complement of thirteen now residing here.

  First towels, now dishes. Was she forgetting anything else?

  At least Regina had worded the offer in a way that left Eileen with some of her dignity intact. She nodded matter-of-factly. “I had not considered the added wear and tear these children could have on my things. I will have to thank Daisy when next I see her.”

  Regina touched her arm lightly. “I know you were put on the spot earlier. And given all that’s occurred the past couple of years, it was mighty generous of you to open your home to these folks. If you need any help at all in the coming days, you know where I live. Don’t hesitate to fetch me.”

  Eileen was surprised by the genuine warmness of the gesture. Was this the start of a thawing of the community toward her? Or would the friendly overtures disappear as soon as her houseguests departed?

  *

  Once Regina took her leave, Eileen made quick work of unloading the various baskets and hampers. Dovie joined her just as she emptied the last one.

  “Goodness, but isn’t this all a welcome sight. I don’t mind saying I’m not a bit sorry we won’t need to rustle up supper from scratch for all these folks.”

  Eileen folded her hands in front of her. “I’ll admit I don’t know how much children eat, but there seems to be enough here to feed us all.”

  Dovie peered inside the various bowls and pots. “I agree—this should be more than enough. There might even be some ham left over to serve with breakfast in the morning. I’ll get the stove stoked. We can set these things on the warming rack so it’ll all be heated through when we’re ready for it.”

  Eileen glanced up toward the ceiling. “How much longer do you think the children will nap?”

  “I imagine some of them are awake already, if they slept at all. It’s been an emotional day for them and different children will react differently to that.”

  Emotional—Eileen didn’t like the sounds of that. Orderly and obedient—that’s how children should behave.

  But Dovie was still speaking. “As to your question, Mr. Tucker instructed them to stay in their rooms for at least an hour.” She grinned. “I imagine it was as much to give you a reprieve as to let the children rest.”

  Eileen relaxed, pleased that he might have indeed been thinking of her feelings. And it seemed there was an expectation that the children were at least able to quietly amuse themselves. Good. “That being the case, I don’t suppose they’ll have the energy for much activity the rest of the day.”

  Dovie shook her head sympathetically. “You really don’t know much about children, do you, dear?”

  Eileen didn’t like the condescending tone. “I remember my own childhood quite well.”

  The older woman gave her a long, considering look, and it was all Eileen could do not to fidget under that gaze.

  “Don’t you remember how hard it was to sit still for long periods?” Dovie finally asked. “You can’t expect them to stay in their rooms all afternoon. An hour or two, yes, but no more. Children need activity to keep them from getting restless.”

  Eileen disagreed. It was merely a matter of training and discipline. Most of her childhood, at least that part after her father’s death when she was five, had been spent with boarding school teachers in quiet, educational pursuits. Those teachers had believed in the adage that children should be seen and not heard, and they had vigorously drilled their students on matters of etiquette, deportment and other matters of social acceptance.

  But if indeed these children had not been trained properly, she would have to find other solutions. If she hadn’t had to sell her pianoforte or stereopticon she could have entertained them in a decorous, proper style. She’d also sold most of her books and her husband’s finely carved chess set. There was nothing even remotely appropriate for entertaining company of any age left in her home.

  Dovie startled her by patting her hand. “Don’t worry,” the woman said. “Children are easily entertained. Just leave it to me.”

  “And so I shall. In the meantime, I should take care of organizing our meal.”

  Just as Dovie had predicted, thirty minutes later there were sounds of stirring from the upstairs rooms. When Eileen stepped into the hallway a few minutes later, she saw Dovie leading the entire group of children into the parlor. Curious as to what the woman was planning, Eileen followed, as well.

  Dovie knelt down next to the low table in front of the sofa and signaled the children to gather around. “I want to show you a game my mother used to play with me.” She untied the cloth and spread it open with all the flair of a pirate revealing his treasure. The children all pressed closer to get better looks.

  Eileen couldn’t resist taking a step forward herself. Peering over the children’s heads, she identified a thimble, coin, needle, spoon, button, pumpkin seed, pecan, twig, two rocks, a hairpin, hat pin, chalk, a bit of ribbon, a candle stub, a feather and a spool.

  “Now, I want everyone to study all these items very closely,” Dovie said solemnly. “In a moment you’re going to turn around, and I’ll mix them up and take one away. Then we’ll see who can be first to figure out what’s missing.”

  The children immediately leaned in closer to study the contents intently.

  Eileen was amazed. Dovie had managed to capture their attention with very little effort. And with such a simple device.

  “It looks like she’s in her element, doesn’t it?”

  Eileen turned to find Mr. Tucker at her side, his gaze on Dovie and the children.

  “Very much so,” she agreed.

  He turned to her. “If you don’t mind, perhaps we can step into the hall to talk for a moment?”

  “Of course.” What did he want to discuss? Had she done something he didn’t approve of?

  “I want you to know that I meant what I said about taking care of any maintenance or repair work that needs tending to while I’m here.”

  Some of her tension eased as she settled back into her lady-of-the-manor role. “As it happens, there are a few things that could use some attention.”

  “Good. If you’ll let me know what yo
u think are the most pressing tasks, I’ll start figuring out how to best tackle them.”

  Eileen didn’t have to think about it. “The gutters require a good cleaning and there are a few loose rails on the back porch.”

  He nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Is there anything else?”

  Surprised he hadn’t balked, even a little, she added another item to the list. “Since we’ll need to do more cooking than usual and heat more wash water and more rooms, there’s the matter of firewood.”

  “Of course. I’ve split many a cord in my day.”

  “You may need to gather the wood as well as split it.”

  “Understood. Why don’t you show me the porch rails you’re concerned about now so I have a better idea of what’s needed?”

  Relieved that he didn’t seem overly concerned by her requests, she nodded. “Of course. This way.”

  As she led the way to the back of the house and out the kitchen door, she was very aware of him walking beside her. What was wrong with her today? She’d never let herself be distracted by such feelings before. Nor even admitted that she had them.

  They stepped out onto the back porch, and she immediately put some distance between them. Moving to the far end of the porch, she pointed out the loose railings. “These three spindles and a couple of the ones lining the steps, as well.”

  Mr. Tucker followed her and examined the rails in question more closely. “I’ll need to replace at least one of these, maybe more, but it shouldn’t be difficult to do. And I might as well check all the other spindles while I’m at it.”

  It would be such a relief to have those things taken care of. Perhaps he could even get a little ahead on the firewood so she wouldn’t have to buy so much when winter set in.

  He stepped down onto the lawn and looked up at the roofline, rubbing his chin. “I have my own tools with me, of course. But I’m going to need a ladder for getting up to those gutters.” He glanced her way. “And an ax for chopping firewood.”

  She waved a hand toward a structure at the far end of her property. “I believe you’ll find what you need in the carriage house. Feel free to look around in there and make use of whatever you need.” The carriage had been one of the first things she’d sold off. The only thing she used the structure for these days was as a storage shed and a place to keep her gardening implements.

  “I’ll check it out first thing in the morning.” He took a long, slow look around her property. “I could get the boys to rake up these leaves for you, too, if you’d like.”

  “That would be appreciated.” She was beginning to feel as if she were taking advantage of him. She hadn’t expected him to work for his keep.

  “Good. It’ll give them something to focus on besides Miss Fredrick’s situation.”

  She wondered what he was really thinking about the state of her home and property. It had to be painfully obvious to him that she hadn’t been able to take care of the place as she ought for some time now.

  But his next comment indicated nothing of the sort. “It appears you have quite a garden,” he said.

  She felt her cheeks warm in pleasure. “It’s done well this year. There’s not much left to it right now, but I should still be able to harvest a few things from my fall planting until first frost.”

  “You take care of it yourself?”

  Was that surprise in his expression? She tilted her chin up. “I do. Though Dovie helps.” Truth to tell, she actually enjoyed working her garden. What had been a pleasant hobby in the past had turned into a means of survival. Many was the day the only thing she ate for her meals was what she’d harvested from her garden. And she’d learned to preserve what she didn’t need for her immediate sustenance so that she could stretch her bounty even further. It was surprising, the sense of accomplishment she felt at having vegetables she’d grown and harvested herself in her pantry.

  He nodded. “Miss Jacobs seems like a fine person. And I can tell she knows how to deal with children.”

  Unlike her—was that what he was thinking? And was he assuming Dovie did most of the gardening, as well?

  She turned and moved back toward the door, feeling suddenly rattled by all these unaccustomed thoughts. Time to take control of the conversation again. “Speaking of the children, perhaps we can discuss what sort of routine they are accustomed to. And then determine what routine will work best while they are here.”

  She felt better already. Routines and discipline, that was what provided order and structure, the two things that were essential to a smoothly run household. And it was becoming obvious to her that these children could benefit from some training in that department.

  She had a feeling, though, that she and Mr. Tucker would not see eye to eye on that point.

  If so, she would just have to bring him around to her way of thinking.

  Chapter Seven

  Routine? Why was she asking him about that? Simon had no idea what sort of routine Miss Fredrick had set for them, or even if they had one at all. “I’m not sure I understand what exactly you’re asking about—what sorts of routines?”

  “I would think it would be self-explanatory. I’d like to know what they are accustomed to in the area of mealtimes, bedtimes, quiet times, bath times. What portion of their day is set aside for educational pursuits such as reading, sewing, nature studies, journaling? Are they accustomed to daily readings from the Good Book? That sort of thing.”

  He didn’t appreciate the condescending tone she’d used, but he was determined to remain civil. “Mrs. Pierce, perhaps I didn’t explain my role clearly. I had no involvement in the kids’ day-to-day lives prior to our boarding the train in St. Louis. I am merely the escort, charged with seeing them safely to Hatcherville and getting them securely installed in their new home. I have no idea what their normal routines are, only what we experienced during the trip, which I imagine was anything but normal.”

  “I see. Then perhaps we shouldn’t worry about what they did in the past and concentrate instead on what makes the most sense for now.”

  “I agree.” Though he had some doubts that they would agree on just what would make sense.

  By this time they’d stepped back inside the kitchen, and she waved a hand toward the table. “Shall we have a seat while we work it out?”

  “You mean now?”

  “Is there some reason we should wait?” Her expression reminded him of a severe schoolmarm who was dealing with a difficult student.

  “I thought perhaps Miss Jacobs should be involved.” He tried to be diplomatic. “I mean, we’ve both admitted to not having experience dealing with children, and she obviously has. Don’t you think she could be helpful?”

  Mrs. Pierce took a seat, her expression set but her copper-colored eyes flashing like a bright new penny. Was she enjoying this?

  She placed her clasped hands in her lap. “For the moment I think it is more important that she continue to keep the children entertained so we can discuss this without distractions.”

  He tried again. “But if we don’t have any point of reference to draw on—”

  “Surely laying out routines and schedules has more to do with the adult’s perspective than with the children’s. And I am not so far removed from my own childhood that I don’t remember the routines imposed on me at my boarding school.” She shifted slightly, as if she’d said more than she intended.

  Boarding school. So she came from money, did she? That explained a lot.

  Simon moved toward the table, deciding he might as well hear her out. He took a seat across from her. “All right. I’m willing to give it a shot. Where would you like to start?”

  “The first thing I think we should decide is whether everyone should take their meals together or if we should eat in shifts.”

  “Together,” he said immediately, before she could launch into a discussion of pros and cons. “I want to maintain the feeling of family for them as much as possible.”

  Something flashed in her shiny-penny eyes
that he couldn’t quite identify, but it left him with the impression that he hadn’t given her the answer she’d wanted. To do her credit, though, she nodded. “Very well, then we will need to add back the leaves to the dining room table and find three additional chairs.”

  “No problem. There are four perfectly fine chairs right here—we can take three of them into the dining room. And if you’ll show me where you keep the table leaves, I’ll take care of that, as well.” Perhaps this routine-setting thing wouldn’t be so bad, after all. “What’s next?”

  “Mealtimes. I would suggest breakfast at seven, the midday meal at noon and dinner at six, but I’m open to suggestions. However, I do feel that whatever schedule we decide on, we should make a point to adhere to it.”

  “I’m sure, if that’s the most convenient schedule for you, it will work fine for the children.”

  “Good. Now let’s move on to bedtimes. I believe it should be no later than eight.”

  “For the younger ones, perhaps, but the older ones might find that restrictive.”

  “I suppose, if they want to occupy themselves quietly in their rooms for the first hour then that would be acceptable.”

  Was she worried about them being too much of a bother for her? But they would only be here for a few days, God willing, so he supposed he could go along with her on this. “All right. What else?”

  They discussed bath times, responsibilities for keeping their rooms tidy, and the level of decorum she expected them to maintain in her home.

  Simon tried to keep his thoughts to himself and go along with her plans. But he had to wonder—what kind of childhood had the woman had if she thought this was an appropriate routine for youngsters? If this was how she’d spent her time at her boarding school he’d say she would have been better served staying home. “So, are we done?” He hoped his tone didn’t convey any of his disdain for her plans.

  “Not yet. We need to discuss the amount of time we might want them to spend learning artistic and social skills.”