Second Chance Hero

by Winnie Griggs

  It was much more likely that it was him Verity was angry with, and he couldn’t blame her. “Right now she just wants to know that you’re all right.”

  When they finally cleared the trees, Verity was there, pacing. Her face was white and drawn and she was rubbing her arms. Several of the other women were there with her, keeping her company.

  As soon as she saw the two of them step from the woods, she raced over and took Joy from his arms.

  “She’s okay,” he said quickly.

  “No thanks to you.” Anger and betrayal blazed from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” It was inadequate, but what else could he say?

  “I trusted you, trusted your word that you wouldn’t let her out of your sight.”

  Her voice was low and controlled, but it thrummed with emotion, all of it sharp, all of it aimed at him.

  “Please don’t be angry, Mama.” Joy wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. “He tolded me to stay on his coat but I saw a bunny.”

  Verity stroked her daughter’s hair and he saw how her fingers trembled. “I’m not angry with you, pumpkin.”

  But the eyes-blazing look she shot his way let him know he wasn’t so lucky.

  It was going to be a very long carriage ride back to town.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The children took their places in line inside the church, fidgeting nervously as they waited for the signal to take the stage. Their performance would take place in just a few short minutes—all of their hours of practice and preparation coming down to this.

  Verity went down the line, talking to each child in turn, doing what she could to ease their nervous fears, letting them know how very proud she was of each and every one of them. All the time the back of her neck tingled uncomfortably with the knowledge that Nate was behind her at the piano, watching her.

  The children were to perform on the church steps and they were lined up down the center aisle, waiting for their cue to file out. The church doors and windows were all thrown wide open so that the music from the piano could clearly be heard by performers and audience alike. Which meant for the first two songs on the program, Nate would be inside the church, heard but not seen.

  Which was all right by Verity. She still hadn’t been able to forgive him for not keeping a better watch over Joy yesterday. When she thought about her baby, alone in the woods for nearly half an hour, it just tied her stomach in knots. So many things could have happened—snakes, falls, even her finding her way back to the water’s edge.

  Even if Nate had been focused on helping Davey, he should have set one of the other children who was present to watch her.

  No, the man was not to be trusted. He might have the best intentions in the world—trying to help his sister all those years ago, helping Davey yesterday—but his judgment was far from sound. If she’d needed a sign that he was not the kind of man she should try to build a life with, she’d gotten it loud and clear yesterday. And just in the nick of time.

  Hazel finally stepped inside, signaling it was time. Verity pulled her focus back to the children and the program they were about to perform.

  She led the group out the open doors and into the sunlight. They looked so cheery and hopeful in their bright green smocks. The children lined up in two rows, just as they had practiced, without any missteps.

  Hazel stayed inside the church and positioned herself where she could see both Verity and Nate. She would relay any signals that needed to pass from one to the other.

  Verity tried to maintain her composure as she turned to face the audience. By now, most of the town knew what had happened yesterday, and how she had reacted to it. Hazel had tried to talk to her, to tell her Nate deserved another chance. But Verity had simply walked away from her. She was done with giving him chances.

  She could have forgiven him, maybe, if what he had done had endangered her. But not her baby—that she could not forgive.

  Pulling her thoughts away from her anger one more time, she gave the children a broad smile and then turned to the audience.

  “Welcome, everyone, to the very first performance of Turnabout’s new children’s choir. They’ve all been working very hard these past few weeks, and once you’ve heard their performance, I think you’ll agree that it hasn’t been in vain. And now, without further ado, I present to you the Turnabout Children’s Choir.”

  There was a small smattering of applause as Verity turned back to face the children. She raised her hands, then nodded to Hazel. The music started almost immediately.

  Using the hand signals the children were now accustomed to, Verity counted the beats and the four youngest children stepped down one stair right on cue and started the song. They were a bit wobbly at first, but they gathered confidence as they went and by the end of their assigned verse they were singing with vigor. All the children chimed in on the chorus and then it was time for the next four to step down and sing their verse.

  At the end of the number, the audience erupted in applause and Verity was happy to see the wide smiles on the faces of her choir. Once the applause died down, she signaled that they were to resume their positions, and they did so with only minor scrambling. Again she held up a hand to bring them to attention, then signaled Hazel. This time, when it was time to sing, the group sang out all together. There were two children who had their timing slightly off, but they caught up quickly and on the whole, that number was a success, as well.

  The third song was the one Nate had taught her, the one that would be sung a cappella. The original plan had been for Nate to come on out here and help her direct it. But after waiting a few minutes, Verity realized he was not going to make an appearance.

  She had a slight pang over that since he had worked as hard as she on this program and deserved some recognition for his efforts. But part of her was relieved as well that she would not have to face him in front of her neighbors.

  Smiling at the children, she gave them the count. This time, when the younger group stepped forward to sing the first verse, she sang softly with them, helping them to carry the tune without the piano for help.

  When the final note had been sung, the applause was louder than before and lasted longer. Verity had the whole group step down and take a bow.

  And then it was done.

  Most of the children raced off to join their parents, and several folks came up to offer Verity congratulations on how well the program had come off. Again she felt that slight pang of conscience that Nate was not present to get his share of the praise.

  At one point, Joy tugged on Verity’s skirt. “Why didn’t Mr. Cooper come out to be with us on the last song like we practiced?”

  “I don’t know, pumpkin. Perhaps he was feeling a little shy. But you all still did a wonderful job.”

  “Is he going to walk with us through the festival? He told me yesterday at the picnic that he would and that Beans could come, too.”

  “Oh, pumpkin, I don’t think so.”

  Joy gave her a solemn look. “Are you still mad at him because I got losted?”

  “That’s between Mr. Cooper and me.” Despite her feelings, she didn’t want to taint Joy’s feelings toward Nate. She knew his fondness for her daughter was genuine.

  She quickly changed the subject. “Why don’t we go see what we can find at the festival? I hear they have a talking parrot that you can see.”

  That was sufficient to distract her daughter, and away they went. Verity did her best to see that Joy had a good time. They watched the other schoolchildren perform the play. They cheered for the contestants in the three-legged race and wheelbarrow race. They did indeed get to see the talking parrot, which Joy considered interesting but not very cuddly.

  But Verity was just going through the motions. She wasn’t able to lose herself in the spirit of the event. Twice she caught herse
lf looking for Nate, without success, among the crowd, and she despised herself for it.

  More than anything else, she felt a deep sense of loss and betrayal. And she wasn’t sure which hurt the most.

  Zella, who had returned to town on Friday, was back at the piano on Sunday. Verity looked for Nate and saw him sitting near the back of the church. Next to Belva.

  * * *

  Nate strode down the sidewalk toward the clinic, Beans at his heels. He’d done a lot of thinking, and a lot of praying, since the incident at the picnic four days ago. And he’d reached one significant conclusion. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let things go on the way they were.

  It was time he moved on.

  He climbed the front porch steps to the Pratt home and rapped on the door. It was the doctor’s wife who answered his knock. To his relief, the look she gave him held more sympathy than animosity.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper. Are you here to see Verity?”

  He removed his hat. “Yes, ma’am. If you don’t mind, please let her know that I don’t plan to take up much of her time.”

  “She and Joy are out back, working in the garden.” The doctor’s wife pointed to her left. “Just follow the house around that way and you’ll see it.” She gave him a look that was almost conspiratorial. “If you need time alone with my niece, just tell Joy I said she could bring Beans inside to feed him some scraps I have.”

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” It seems he had at least one ally in this household.

  Nate followed Mrs. Pratt’s directions and found the garden easily enough. Verity was on her knees with her back to him, pulling weeds. Joy was nearby, rather inexpertly weaving a daisy chain. As soon as Beans spotted them he gave a yip of recognition and raced forward. Joy scrambled to her feet and met him halfway.

  Verity was slower to react, though he thought he detected a certain stiffening of her back. When she stood and turned to face him, there was a guarded expression on her face.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper,” Joy said. “I looked for you at the festival but couldn’t find you.”

  “I’m sorry I missed all the fun, but I wasn’t feeling up to it.” Before the little girl could press further, he delivered Mrs. Pratt’s message. “Your aunt Betty told me she has some food you can feed Beans if you want to take him to the kitchen.”

  “Yes, sir. Come on, Beans.”

  And with that, child and dog were off.

  Verity watched her daughter go, ignoring him, until he heard the back door spring closed. Then she turned to him. “What are you doing here?”

  Not exactly a warm welcome. “I came to let you know I’m going out of town for a while.”

  There was a flicker of something in her expression, but he couldn’t tell if it was relief, surprise or curiosity. It certainly couldn’t be regret.

  When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “I was wondering if you would allow Joy to take care of Beans for me while I’m away.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Look, I know you’re angry with me. And I probably deserve it.”

  “Probably—”

  He held a hand up. “I’m not here to debate that point with you. But just because you no longer trust me is no reason to punish Joy and Beans. I’d like to know that someone who cares for the animal as much as I do, someone like Joy, will be looking out for him.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  He slid his fingers along the brim of his hat. “I’m not sure. Perhaps a month or more.”

  “That’s quite a lot of time to be gone from your business.”

  Did she seem so disapproving because of the commitment she’d have to make with Beans, or was there another reason?

  She hadn’t asked for an explanation, at least not outright, but he decided to give her one, anyway. “I’m going to help Belva to get settled into her new place and to deal with some staffing issues. I’m not sure how long that will take, but I’ve committed to not leave her until I’m satisfied everything is running smoothly.” The news about Belva’s inheritance and her moving to her newly acquired estate had broke yesterday, so he wasn’t betraying any confidences.

  “I see.” She tilted her head, studying him almost analytically. “But you are coming back?”

  He saw no indication of whether she was hoping for a yes or no answer from him. “I am.” That was part of the thinking he’d done these past few days. He’d come very close to telling Belva he’d take her up on her offer after all.

  But in the end he’d decided he wasn’t going to run away. Not from Verity. And not from his past. “But don’t worry, I will make very sure that our paths don’t cross any more than they must. You have no need to fear you will receive any unwanted attentions from me. You’ve made it clear you want me out of your and Joy’s lives and I plan to honor that wish.”

  It hurt that she felt this way, but he couldn’t let it define his life, who he was. He’d dealt with loss before. This was just a different kind of loss.

  He felt his jaw tighten and he deliberately relaxed it. “I just have one last thing I want to say. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, some of them really big mistakes. Those mistakes have been costly, to me and to those around me. I regret what happened Friday, and the pain it cost you, more deeply than you will ever know.”

  He put his hat back on. “Tell Joy goodbye for me. I’ll come by to retrieve Beans when I return.” With that he turned and walked away.

  * * *

  Verity watched him depart and tried to sort out the emotions she was feeling, without much success.

  Deciding she needed a walk to clear her mind, she went inside to clean up. When she told Joy about Nate leaving Beans in her care, her daughter wasn’t as excited as she’d thought she would be.

  “But Beans will be sad that Mr. Cooper is gone,” her daughter said. “And I will be, too.”

  “He won’t be gone forever. He’s coming back whenever his business is finished.”

  “But you said he would be gone for weeks. That’s a long time. Me and Beans are going to miss him.”

  “I’m afraid it can’t be helped.” And with that unhelpful answer, she headed to her room before her daughter could press further.

  As Verity changed clothes, she remembered what Mr. Barr had said, something along the lines of children giving their heart only to those who are deserving.

  Verity had intended to take a nice long walk, but somehow she found herself standing in the doorway to Hazel’s shop.

  Hazel looked up and gave her a broad, welcoming smile. “Hi there, come on in. Have you heard the news about Belva? It’s all anyone is talking about.”

  Verity joined her at the counter and nodded. “I have. I’m happy for her.”

  “You should have seen Eunice this morning at the mercantile. The poor woman couldn’t decide if she was more happy for her niece or irritated that Belva had kept the whole thing secret from her. I, for one, have a new respect for Belva. Anyone who can keep a secret from a busybody like Eunice, while living under the same roof with her no less, is one clever, resourceful person.”

  Verity was able to smile at that. “It seems she was able to keep it a secret from everyone, not just Eunice.”

  “Except perhaps Mr. Cooper.”

  “Mr. Cooper?” Funny how she couldn’t seem to get away from him.

  “Yes.” Hazel was obviously enjoying being privy to something Verity wasn’t. “Haven’t you heard? He’s going to go with her to help her deal with the solicitors and make sure she gets settled in okay.”

  “I heard.”

  “Well, I imagine she gave him more than a few hours’ notice when she asked him—don’t you?”

  Of course. So that was the bond the two of them shared—Belva had trusted him with her secret.

  Hazel, appa
rently tired of waiting for a response from her, tried a slight change of subject. “I hear he went to see you this morning.”

  Verity grimaced. “Word certainly travels fast around here.”

  “Well? Was it just to let you know he was leaving?”

  “That, and he asked us to watch over Beans while he was away.”

  “I hope this means the two of you have made up.”

  “Made up.” Verity couldn’t control the note of anger in her voice. “Hazel, we didn’t have a lover’s spat. He put Joy’s life in danger. That’s not something I can easily forgive.”

  “I know, but—”

  “The subject is closed. Besides, there was something altogether different I came here to discuss with you.”

  Hazel didn’t seem at all happy with her change of subject, but she didn’t argue. “And what might that be?”

  “I’ve decided that I’m not ready to open a millinery shop right now after all, so there’s no point in us discussing it.”

  “If it’s the money, I can—”

  “It’s not that.” She grimaced. “Well, it’s not just that. I’ve decided I want to spend more time with Joy. Setting up a millinery shop, even if I did it here with you, would take away from that. Maybe, once she starts school in the fall, we can talk about it again.”

  Hazel’s lips were pursed in disapproval and her hands were crossed over her chest. “And when fall arrives you’ll have some other excuse.”

  Verity was taken aback by her friend’s directness. “You don’t know that—”

  “Oh, but I do.” She waved a hand. “It’s what you do. Any time, any time, you get close to achieving some long-held dream, you find a reason to back away. Like you’re doing with your millinery-shop dream. And with the way you’re pushing Mr. Cooper away.”

  Verity took exception to that. “Pushing Mr. Cooper away has nothing to do with anything but his trustworthiness. He promised to keep an eye on Joy, and because he broke that promise she wandered off. It ended well, but that was no thanks to him.”

  “Actually, according to what I heard, it was he who actually found her.”