A Love So True

by Melissa Jagears

  What would she have done if she’d had to sit on the wagon seat next to him? She generally didn’t have problems holding herself aloof from men, but David, well . . .

  Taking in a huge draught of pure air, she focused on the entertaining story Mr. Hargrove was telling. The one about the goose that had chased him around his parents’ farmhouse when his siblings had locked him out.

  He’d already told them that story twice, but he was such a dear, and reliving his memories always made his face soften and his eyes light up. She couldn’t bear to tell him she’d already heard it, and evidently neither could David.

  She hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask Mr. Hargrove to take Scott either. She didn’t want to break Scott’s heart. How could she take away the one thing he was looking forward to, as David had pointed out, after he’d just lost his mother?

  Scott sniffed beside her, and she looked over to see silent tears streaming down his freshly scarred cheeks. She squeezed him tighter but held her words. Nothing she could say would bring his mother back, and she didn’t want him to think crying was wrong.

  Crying was the only thing that had gotten her through the toughest time in her life. Her youthful indiscretions were not only life changing, but emotional through and through. And she’d had to hide every single tear lest anyone ask her what was wrong. How she’d wished for someone to hold her while she cried, but she had never let anyone know.

  Only tears and time would get them through the terrible way they’d both been cheated in life.

  Scott sniffed and then turned to look up at her. “Do you think I could work with Robert and Max at the glass factory?”

  How had she forgotten they’d started working for David? Of course, she’d not gotten to see them after their first day. Had they gone to work since then? She hadn’t even asked David how things had gone. She rubbed Scott’s shoulder. “Since you’re twelve, I’m going to say no. But I bet our gardener would love help. He can always use a strong back to haul things around.”

  He nodded and then turned quiet again.

  The winding driveway to the mansion snaked behind them, curling up the hill and bringing them closer to her parents.

  As much as her parents’ secret plans to retire had made it hard for her to have any peace while quarantined at Mr. Hargrove’s, she couldn’t wait to feel Momma’s strong arms around her and have Daddy plant his customary kiss on her brow.

  The shadow of the portico covered them, and she sighed as she stared up at her home as the wagon came to a stop. Or what she wished was her true home—she could still hope it would always be so.

  “We’re here.” David came around the back of the wagon, and she almost wished Scott was still sickly enough that David would have to help him out of his factory’s delivery wagon instead of her. But the disease hadn’t taken away the boy’s need to stretch his legs, and he quickly scooted to the end of the wagon bed and hopped off.

  Apparently Mr. Hargrove was sprier than she’d thought too, because he was already limping toward the door.

  If she was still in the dress she’d had to burn yesterday, she would’ve just scooted to the end as Scott had. But her mother had sent her one of her newer dresses.

  David hopped into the back of the wagon and held out his hands to help her stand.

  His hands were just like anyone else’s, so why was she hesitating to hold them for a moment? She clamped hers into his.

  They were indeed just ordinary hands, engulfing hers with a secure grip.

  He heaved her up, but her heel caught on her hem. Her current inability to be aware of anything but their hands had evidently robbed her of all grace.

  For a second, David wrapped an arm around her waist to help take her weight off her skirt, but just as quickly he released her. He then extended his arm and escorted her the five feet to the edge of the wagon bed.

  He didn’t seem bothered by how close they’d just been and jumped down only to offer up his hands again. This time to catch her waist to bring her down.

  That had happened before, on hayrides and such, but she’d paid those men little mind. Over the past two weeks, however, having been around David longer than she’d been around any man lately, besides her father, she’d become lax with how she reacted toward him.

  Not that she’d done anything wrong—well . . . except, perhaps, walk barefoot around him and fail to keep her emotions locked up tight lest they get her in trouble.

  David raised an eyebrow as he stood waiting, and she tensed before putting her hands on his shoulders. Her height made it a bit awkward for him to swing her down gracefully.

  “I bet you’re glad to be back.” He let go of her, as though holding a woman’s waist was an everyday occurrence, and offered his arm again.

  Not that arm-holding meant much either, but she could hardly act aloof around a man she’d shared a house with a week ago, though that was her usual tactic in dealing with men. Once they caught on to her disinterest, they usually left her alone.

  And yet, here David was, eyebrows raised. Waiting.

  She swallowed hard and looped her arm around his. “I am happy to be home, though I’m glad I’ve gotten to know Mr. Hargrove better. Father’s always hogged his company.”

  She hoped Momma and Daddy weren’t watching from a window. How long had they hoped a young man as attentive and decent as David would join them for a family dinner?

  She loosened her arm so that only her hand was lying on his forearm. She could not let them set their hopes on David.

  “I know this might sound terrible of me, considering why we were cooped up.” He put his hand atop hers as if to keep her from going farther. “But I’ve enjoyed the last two weeks—getting to know you and Scott and Hargrove. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so . . . at home. Perhaps for the first time, really. My father’s idea of a family evening is talking about his grand plans for me and his business. Especially going over whatever it is I’m doing wrong that keeps him from handing it over to me immediately. Oh, and big bowls of buttery popcorn.” He smirked. “I thank God for popcorn—always something to look forward to.”

  By the way his eyes lingered on her, she knew he was hoping she’d smile back.

  And it was hard not to. She gave him a small grin, and he wriggled his shoulders a bit, as if trying to repress a victory dance.

  As thankful as she was that he hadn’t left her to care for Scott alone, she wasn’t sure how she would handle it if he stuck around.

  She could be David’s friend, no question—even wanted to be—but would others encourage him to ruin their friendship and push for something more? Would her parents?

  And how could she keep her mind from dwelling on him?

  It was almost cruel, really, but she’d not rail against God for bringing this man to Teaville. God was hardly at fault for how her life had turned out.

  Scott grabbed on to the front door’s contoured handle and pulled it open. She was then able to let go of David’s arm without looking rude, and yet, the widening space between them didn’t give her the sense of relief she usually got when she was able to distance herself.

  The second she spied her mother, she skirted past Mr. Hargrove in the entryway and into Momma’s open arms. As always, her soft embrace made Evelyn forget her worries.

  “How are you?” Momma pulled back and looked up into her eyes, pushing the hair off Evelyn’s forehead.

  “Scott’s got no lasting side effects from the smallpox, so that’s a blessing.” She turned to smile at the boy. He was standing with his hands behind him, staring up at the two-story entrance. The entryway was rather awe-inspiring with its wraparound stairway curving around the fancy gasolier that sparkled above them.

  When she glanced back at her mother, she saw that probing look she knew all too well. What had she done in the space of half a minute to make her mother suspect she had a secret?

  But she never had been one to cave to that inquisitive stare. And no matter what she knew about her parents’ pl
ans, she wasn’t going to ask Momma about her secret either. She wanted them to tell her first. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “I’m here.” Her father started down the entryway stairs as if his leg hadn’t been causing him problems for nearly a year. And after Daddy let go of the rail to head across the hall toward her, his steadiness was impressive. No visible sign of pain. “We missed you.” He walked straight for her, cupped the sides of her head with his huge hands, and kissed her on the spot near her temple, the same spot he’d kissed as far back as she could remember.

  She let the warmth of his love wash over her, and when he pulled back, went on tiptoe to kiss him on the tip of his nose, just as she had for years.

  After giving her a huge hug, he turned around and walked back across the entryway to clap his best friend on the shoulder. “I’m glad you came. With you and Mr. Kingsman here, I’m looking forward to tonight’s dinner conversation. And hello, my boy.” He held out his hand for Scott as he would for any grown man. “I hear you’re joining us. Can’t wait to get to know you.”

  Scott hesitated but shook Daddy’s hand—and quickly found himself in a bear hug.

  Evelyn pressed her lips hard together as if that would somehow dissolve the lump in her throat. How could she continue working here without her parents?

  “Come on. Dinner’s ready, but we’ve been holding off for you, our guest of honor.” Daddy turned Scott around and started off toward the hallway, his huge hand spanning the back of the boy’s neck.

  Scott’s grin lit up his pitted face, and her love for her father only grew.

  David, after a quick glance at her, followed after them, and Evelyn tugged off her gloves. “I’m glad to see Daddy’s leg isn’t bothering him.”

  “As you know, it comes and goes,” her mother said.

  “But it’s been so long since the last time he’s walked without a hitch in his step. I was beginning to wonder . . .” She turned enough to see her mother’s face. “I was beginning to think it wouldn’t be long before you two decided you couldn’t work here anymore.” So perhaps she wouldn’t ask outright, but prodding wasn’t out of the question.

  Uncharacteristically, her mother folded her hands and stared at them for a second. But only a second. Then she walked over to help reposition the pin that had fallen out when Evelyn had taken off her bonnet. Momma disappeared behind her, letting her fingers walk along Evelyn’s scalp, pushing things back into place. “You don’t know how hard it was to stay here while you were at Mr. Hargrove’s.” She backed away to look at Evelyn’s hair and gave a nod of satisfaction.

  She kept her gaze steady on Momma, but her mother didn’t seem to act guilty whatsoever for avoiding her unspoken question. Were they going to keep their secret from her until the last minute?

  Of course, who was she to get upset over someone keeping a secret?

  Though she was determined not to ask about theirs, she’d still agonize over all the possible future scenarios. Could she ask Nicholas about her parents’ plans? But what if he didn’t know? No need to upset everything before it was absolutely necessary. “I hope it wasn’t utter chaos here while I was away.”

  “Miss McClain came several times while you were gone. She was a lot of help.”

  Mercy had come? Of course Mercy would. “Is she here now?”

  “Yes, she’ll be having dinner with us.”

  “Wonderful.” There were just not enough opportunities to get together with friends when the orphanage took so much of her time. “And how has Peter treated her?” She couldn’t imagine he’d keep his thoughts to himself. He pestered the other orphans about their freckles or their crooked noses. What hope was there that he hadn’t taunted Mercy? Despite being an absolutely lovely woman, with big green eyes and voluminous blond curls, the first thing most everyone saw was her deformed right hand—or rather, the few little nubs a few inches past her elbow where her hand quit growing in the womb.

  And the fact that she was twenty-three and still unmarried seemed to indicate most men were as bad as grade-school children for focusing on what was wrong with a person instead of what was right.

  Momma sighed. “He’s been told countless times to keep not-so-nice thoughts to himself, but trying to rid him of all his bad habits at once is overwhelming. I’ve decided to focus on getting him to stop adding curse words to every sentence.”

  “I hope Mercy isn’t too upset with him.”

  “She’s not new to being teased, but I think Peter convincing Ezekiel that she’s a monster has been difficult. The boy won’t even stay in the room with her.”

  Evelyn frowned at the thought of the cute little four-year-old refusing to share his big dimpled smiles with Mercy.

  “I’m sure she’ll enjoy getting to talk to you before she goes home.” Momma slipped her arm around her waist as they strolled up the small staircase to the main hallway that led to the kitchen. “And we’re all excited you’re home. Cook made your favorites. Ham, squash soup, and strawberry shortcake for dessert.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Mr. Kings—” Maybe it would be better not to tell Momma that David was a far better cook than theirs. Momma didn’t need any more of David’s positive traits to latch onto. “I mean, Mr. Hargrove was wondering what we’d have for dessert, and I was hoping for shortcake.”

  Before they made it two steps into the dining room, a flurry of blue-checked gingham and blond curls came running toward her.

  “Alex?” She got down on one knee just in time to catch the girl in a big hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d never see you again.” The six-year-old curled up in Evelyn’s embrace, and her thumb popped into her mouth the second she quit talking.

  “I’m sure Miss O’Conner told you I’d come see you the first Saturday I was able.” Though that didn’t explain why Alex was at the mansion. Had Caroline and her parents invited the district children to supper? She looked up, scanning the smiling faces of the orphans in their assigned seats, but Alex’s older sister, Jocelyn, wasn’t there, nor were there any extra empty seats. She smiled at Mercy, who waved at her from where she was helping Vera and Florence set the table.

  “I was so afraid you were going to die.” The little girl nuzzled her head against Evelyn’s neck. “Especially now that I get to be with you forever.”

  She looked over the little girl’s head at her mother’s slightly worried face.

  Momma licked her lips. “Alexandria decided she wants to live with us, and no one objected. We’ve told her that means she might get to go live with a wonderful family someday.”

  “But I don’t want to. You told me God can do anything, so I’ll just pray I get to stay with you, and I will.” The girl slid her thumb back into her mouth and relaxed against her.

  How could she say no to that? “You’re right. God is certainly able to do anything.”

  And if this little one needed Evelyn so much she gave up her sister to be with her, then why wouldn’t He provide Evelyn with a way to remain working here?

  Mercy came over with a big smile on her face. “But sometimes God’s ways are not our ways, so we have to be prepared for Him to do something we might not like, but still trust Him to get us where He wants us.” She offered her good hand to Alex. “Now let’s go sit so we can eat.”

  Evelyn slowly stood, trying not to show any emotion on her face. How could God want her anywhere but here?

  She could feel David’s eyes on her as she walked to her place across from him and next to Mercy.

  Alex is right. You can do anything.

  Evelyn put her napkin across her knees and ignored her father’s dinner prayer to continue with her own.

  So please let me stay, if you would. And please keep David from believing anything would entice me to leave. I like him too much to ever want to have that conversation with him.

  17

  The sky was full of ominous clouds. Standing on the stoop of Morris, Morris, & Freedman, Evelyn considered opening her little parasol. Its
beautiful floral pattern usually cheered her, so she opened it, if for no other reason than to help her focus on the positive. There were a handful of sunbeams and light blue splotches amid the gloomy clouds rolling in from the southwest; surely her own life had splotches of cheeriness ready to bust through.

  She stepped off the stoop and forced herself not to walk with a slump. Though Nicholas’s lawyer had not agreed to sponsor her women’s home, he had offered his services for half price for any future residents needing legal help, and free services for children. He’d also been kind enough to answer a few personal questions without asking for a fee—after he assured her keeping confidences was integral to his vocation.

  Though Nicholas would not consider Mr. Morris’s help to be a sponsorship, it was something. That should give her hope for her next appointment—if she could ignore the derisive laughter still ringing in her ears from the five men she’d met with before Mr. Morris.

  “Don’t you make a pretty picture.”

  Evelyn took her gaze off her feet.

  David, with his hands in his pockets, leisurely strolled toward her. His head was cocked to the side as he assessed her. His handsome homburg hat perched jauntily atop his thick blond hair.

  Her free hand, as if it had a mind of its own, came up to cover the scars on her right cheek. She wasn’t used to getting such compliments. Did he really mean it?

  “That, Miss Wisely, was a compliment. They’re normally viewed as good things, not anything to frown about.”

  “Yes.” She let her hand drop and shook herself a little. “Thank you.”

  “I was certain today was Saturday, but you appear to be wearing your Sunday finery. Did I miss church this morning?”

  “No, it’s definitely Saturday.”

  “Did you not feed the children lunch this afternoon?”

  “I did.”

  He looked back at her dress.

  Of course, her attire was nothing like the work dresses she normally wore. The children had given her compliments on her dusky red shirtwaist dress as well. The skirt had a deep full flounce on the bottom and a slight train bordered with a band of embroidered flowers that traveled up the front and onto the shirtwaist until they parted to border its squared neckline. The cameo she wore at the base of the high-necked collar of the white undershirt had been particularly fascinating to little Jesse, who’d crawled into her lap at story time and rubbed it between his fingers. “I didn’t have time to return to the mansion after lunch before my first appointment.”