“We didn’t want you to try to walk in this wind,” Missy said as she spread half of her blanket over her sister.
“I’m mighty grateful,” she said. “I left my other two boys at home with my mother, but needed to talk to the pastor. Didn’t think of the wind picking up again. I wouldn’t even have had a scarf for the boy or this umbrella if it hadn’t been for a nice man we ran into this morning who gave it to us. Oh, just turn left at the next street and it’s only a little bit further on.”
Michelle sighed, her heart warmed by the generosity of strangers as she glanced at the toddler’s ragged clothing. She followed the directions as the young woman gave them to her, vaguely aware that the streets and buildings were increasingly unfamiliar.
“This is quite a long way to have walked with a little one,” Michelle said as they pulled up in front of a tiny, dilapidated house that the woman pointed at as her own.
“Yes, it was a long way. But the pastor had told me this morning that he might have a donation for me. My husband’s gone to Memphis to look for work and not come back yet, and my mother and the boys and I have run out of money. Unfortunately, it was a wasted trip.” She pulled at the toddler, whose head was snuggled in her neck, and wiped his hair away from his face. She kissed him on the forehead and slowly shook her head. “Thank you very much, ladies, for the ride. We’d have been frozen by the time we got home if not for you.”
“We like to help,” Mattie said. “Our mother said we had to, that it’s very important, but we like it.” She smiled and patted the child on the head as his mother lifted him down from the buggy.
Michelle had grabbed her reticule at the last moment before they’d left, and her heart tugged as she thought of the money she still had left over from what Anthony had sent her for dresses. Surely he would agree that this was a worthy cause, and she reached under her blanket, taking out the remaining bills.
“Ma’am, I’d like you to have this.”
The woman’s eyes grew wide and she hugged her son more tightly, taking a step back. “Oh, no, ma’am, I wasn’t asking for sympathy. Just telling my story.”
Michelle reached out further. “I insist. It’s the least I can do. Sometime, when you’re able, use what you have to help someone else. That’s all I ask.”
The young woman closed her eyes then looked upward, mouthing the words, “Thank you.” She walked toward Michelle, smiling gratefully as she slowly extended her hand. “I promise I’ll do that, ma’am. I promise.”
She nodded again at Michelle and the girls before turning toward her house and rushing inside.
“That was very nice of you, Michelle.” Missy patted Michelle’s arms, her smile wide.
Mattie nodded her head, and said gravely, “Mama would be proud.”
“Oh, that makes me happy. It’s like your mama’s with us, helping. I like that,” Michelle said. “All right, ladies, where to? Anthony should be ready to go home by now.”
Michelle looked down at the twins when she was met with silence. “Girls?”
They looked at each other, wide-eyed, and both shrugged their shoulders. “We’ve never been here before. I don’t know where we are,” Mattie said as she looked around.
“I don’t either.” Missy stuck her thumb in her mouth, and Mattie batted it away.
Michelle sighed and tugged the blanket around her as she flicked the reins, hoping the she’d spot something familiar.
The wind howled as she turned down several small streets, hoping to get back to the main business section of Corinth. She remembered the courthouse and the drug store, and she breathed a sigh of relief as they came into view.
By the time she’d reached the center of town, it was almost dark. The wind had died down a little, thankfully. Once they’d seen the courthouse, the girls were able to direct her to Anthony’s store, and her heart sank. They pulled up slowly, but there was no mistaking that there were no lights on, and when they reached the front door, the sign in the window said closed.
“I guess we missed him, girls,” Michelle said as she hung her head.
“Oh, no! He had to walk home and it was so cold,” Mattie said as the girls exchanged sorrowful looks.
Michelle flicked the reins, urging the horses to get home as quickly as possible. Her stomach fluttered as she tied the reins to the hitching post and helped the girls down. She felt awful that she’d missed Anthony, but was certain he’d understand what happened. After all, he wasn’t even really expecting them.
“Run on inside while I take the horses over to the barn,” she said as she patted them on the back.
She unhitched the buggy as quickly as she could, taking short breaks to clap her hands together. Someone had already placed hay in their stalls, and she closed the door behind her, lifting her skirts and running toward the back door. Head down against the wind, she lifted her skirts and hopped up the steps.
Reaching for the door, she inhaled deeply, just the scent of Mable’s beef stew starting to warm her already. She pulled it open and stepped inside, gasping as she bumped straight into Anthony.
Chapter 19
“I’ll go unhitch the buggy,” Anthony said as Michelle took a step backward. “Thank you for trying to come get me. That was thoughtful of you.”
Michelle smiled up at him, wishing she had actually been able to save him from what must have been a long trip home. “I’ve already unhitched the buggy and put the horses away. I am terribly sorry that we weren’t able to get there in time. We ran into--”
Anthony turned and smiled at Mable. “I heard all about that part. The girls are already at the table. Are you hungry?”
Michelle held her hand to her belly as it rumbled. “Famished, and the beef stew smells delicious.”
Mable smiled and nodded. “One of my specialties, along with the biscuits. You two shoo and I’ll be right in with dinner.”
Anthony pushed open the kitchen door and held his arm out for Michelle to precede him. He really was very handsome, and his dark eyes lit up as he smiled down at her. Her lower back tingled as he pressed his hand against her, escorting her to the table. She smiled up at him as she sat in the chair he’d pulled out for her, grateful that he wasn’t angry. But honestly, why would he be?
“We told Uncle Anthony what happened today. He said it was cold walking home, but better for him to do it than the lady we helped.”
Anthony shook his napkin out and laid it across his lap. He picked up his water glass and took a sip. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She smiled, taking a bite of her delicious, warm beef stew. Of course, that was a very gentlemanly thing to say, and she’d thought him quite generous when he sent money for her for clothing. She wondered how she could have been so fortunate--good fortune born of such tragedy. When the mill burned down, she’d literally given away her last cent, with no options for her future.
The girls chattered during dinner, and Michelle enjoyed the casual atmosphere as the girls talked more about their lives before they came to Corinth.
“It’s almost Christmas, Uncle Anthony,” Mattie said as she smiled knowingly at her uncle.
Missy clapped her hands. “I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time.”
Michelle laughed. “I think everybody loves Christmas. I don’t know a single child who doesn’t like getting presents.”
She laughed and looked around at the others, met with wide-eyed stares from the twins as Anthony looked down at his plate, his elbows on the table. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Mattie laughed. “No, I suppose not. You wouldn’t know.”
“No, she wouldn’t. So I’ll tell her,” Missy said.
“I want to tell her,” Mattie retorted as she pushed herself back from the table.”
“Well, someone should tell me.” Michelle sat back in her chair, setting her napkin to the side of her plate.
“Fine,” Missy said as she stuck her thumb in her mouth. “You tell her.”
“When Mama and Papa too
k us out west try to help the people there, we didn’t have Christmas for us. We had it for the children there. We helped all year to get enough things to give to the children. Their parents couldn’t give them anything at all.”
Michelle’s eyes grew wide and she looked at Anthony. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes closed.
Her heart warmed at the thought, and she envisioned the young lady they’d taken home earlier, certain that there would be no presents for her children. “That’s a very, very kind thing for you to do.”
“It’s a tradition,” she said.
“May we please be excused?” Mattie said as she set her napkin beside her plate.
Anthony ran his hand through his hair. “That’s fine, girls. Why don’t you run upstairs and get ready for bed.” He smiled, but Michelle thought it wasn’t quite a happy smile.
They both watched in silence as the girls carry their plates into the kitchen, then bustle upstairs.
“Would you like to sit in the parlor?” Anthony said as he pushed back from the table. “The fire’s still warm.”
Michelle stood as he pulled her chair out for her. He extended his arm and she felt that warm buzz as she placed hers through his.
“It’s awfully cold. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised since it’s getting near Christmas,” he said as he sat close to the fire, gesturing for her to join him.
She looked up as Missy ran down the stairs, a stuffed doll in her arms and Mattie right behind her. Anthony held his arms out as she scrambled on his laps, doll clutched tightly in her arms.
“I see you’ve got Mrs. Clementine with you,” Anthony said as he brushed a lock of hair from Missy’s face.
Michelle’s heart tugged, seeing him so tender with his nieces. She stiffened, her growing feelings for him surprising her. She almost felt like a family, the four of them by the fire, and wished it were so.
“Of course she does,” Mattie said as she stood by Michelle. “It’s bedtime. She always has Mrs. Clementine.”
Michelle stroked Mattie’s hair as she reached out for the doll, whose eyes must have once been buttons that had since fallen off. “Can I see Mrs. Clementine for a moment?”
Missy gingery held the doll out toward Michelle, her brows drawn together.
“Do you think you could sleep without her for a night?” Michelle smoothed out the tangled yarn on top of the doll’s head. Mrs. Clementine had obviously been well loved for a very long time.
“Maybe. Why?” Missy squinted at Michelle, her face worried.
Michelle smiled at her reassuringly. “If you let me, I’ll fix her dress.”
Missy’s eyes widened and she smiled. She jumped off Anthony’s lap and ran to Michelle, throwing her arms around her in a hug. “Thank you. I’ve been so worried about her getting cold since her dress is ripped.”
Mattie groaned and pulled away from Michelle. “Dolls don’t get cold, Missy.”
Missy folded her arms over her chest and said, “How do you know?”
Anthony laughed and clapped his hands. “All right, time for bed. I’ll read you a book, and the first one upstairs gets to choose.”
The girls squealed and raced upstairs. Anthony laughed and stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Michelle’s heart tugged as she listened to the girls’ giggles. It seemed that things were going well in the Chandler household. Her household.
She stood and reached for her sewing bag, and by the time Anthony had returned, Mrs. Clementine had not only a repaired dress, but two shiny new eyes and her hair tied back in a bright, red bow.
She held it up to Anthony when he sat back down, appreciating his nod of approval. “That’s wonderful. Missy will be thrilled. You’re very talented, and it appears that Mrs. Clementine will no longer be cold.
Michelle laughed as she packed up her needle and thread and placed them with alongside the thimble in her bag.
“It is awfully cold. You said so yourself,” she teased. She sat back in her chair, the doll resting in her lap as she remembered the young woman earlier. “I was so glad to be able to take the young mother and her baby home today. I’m sorry you had to walk on your own,” she said as she shook her head.
“It was fine. Not exactly fun, but fine,” he said as he held his hands to the fire.
“Thank you for doing it. She was so grateful--you should have seen her face when I gave her the leftover money you sent me.”
Anthony stiffened and Michelle looked up at him, expecting to see a smile. She held her hand to her chest when she was met with a frown instead.
“What money?”
She took a deep breath. She had forgotten to tell him about the money--maybe she should have. But he had so much--surely he could spare it for a young mother.
“I shopped very carefully with the generous amount of money you sent for a new wardrobe. I sewed some things myself, and I had almost half of it leftover. I forgot to mention it to you, but I assumed you might want her to have it, and I had it with me--”
“You did?” he said as he rubbed his eyes, his voice low. “That could have paid for...”
She waited for him to finish, her stomach clenched as she could feel his anger and she wasn’t quite sure what to do.
He didn’t continue. Rather, he dropped his head into his hand and leaned against the mantle. He sighed as he pushed himself away from the fireplace and turned to her. He frowned, and said, “I’ll need to tell the girls in the morning, but I’ll tell you now. We won’t be able to continue the tradition of giving away toys.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he nodded in her direction. “Good night, Michelle.”
She blinked as he stalked upstairs, not sure at all what had happened. She’d done a good deed in a family who cared about that sort of thing, and had so much to share.
She held up Mrs. Clementine, looking into her shiny new button eyes. “I’m afraid I’ve done something wrong, Mrs. Clementine. I just wish I knew what it was.”
Chapter 20
Anthony leaned on the mantle of the fireplace, his head on his arm. He’d tried for hours to sleep but hadn’t been able to, his thoughts rushing through his head. He’d finally decided to get up, walking back down stairs and sitting next to the nearly gone fire.
How had things gone so wrong? The girls had been with him for almost six months, and he thought they’d done a pretty good job of it, learning about each other and trying to move on from the death of their parents.
He’d dreaded this conversation, and his heart felt like a stone as he’d not been looking forward to telling the girls that they wouldn’t be able to keep their mother’s tradition of giving toys to the needy children of Corinth. And Michelle--giving away so much money. He hadn’t thought to ask her about what he’d sent. He assumed that she’d spent it all on clothes, which had been very important to him.
He groaned as he pushed himself up from the mantle and sat in the wing-backed chair next to it. Yes, that money could have bought toys for the tradition, but he supposed that the young lady needed it more, really. Food trumped toys, but he still couldn’t imagine how he’d tell the girls that they wouldn’t be giving things away this year.
He steepled his fingers and stared at the fire as he remembered the very first time Adelaide had convinced his parents that what she really wanted for Christmas was to bring joy to the other children in their town. He chuckled as he remembered his response.
“Speak for yourself, Adelaide. I don’t think I want to give up my Christmas. I want things, too.”
In his mind’s eye, he could still see the look of amusement on his sister’s face as she threw her braids behind her and placed her hands on her hips.
“Anthony Chandler, that’s very funny.”
“I’m not joking,” he’d said, and she’d squinted at him, her arms folded over her chest.
“Do you mean to tell me that that you don’t want to share?” She gestured at their big house, the bare tree branches blowing in the breeze. �
��You know there are children who have nothing. And we have everything.”
He’d frowned and sat down in the grass, thinking of the children who’d come to Corinth right after the Civil War and still lived nearby in very, very small shacks. He’d visited with his mother and sister, taking food, clothing and anything else they’d collected as donations at the shop in town.
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
Adelaide sat down beside him and placed her hand on his arm. “Anthony, we are so fortunate. Others are not so lucky, and it’s our duty to share what we have. Even if we don’t get anything ourselves for Christmas, think of the joy of the other children who will.”
And that had been the beginning of the tradition. He chuckled as he realized that he and Adelaide had been about the same age as the twins when they’d started, and they hadn’t missed a year, ever.
Except this year.
His head fell into his hands. He’d sold everything that he could without cutting into the last of his mother’s heirlooms, things he’d wanted to save for the girls.
He’d just have to tell them that it wasn’t possible this year. That--what would he tell them? He still held out hope that Mr. Banks would come through and buy the inventory in the store. It was worth quite a bit of money--unfortunately, the people of Corinth weren’t buying. He’d thought of taking it all to New York or Chicago on his own to find a buyer, but when the girls came that became impossible.
He stood and paced in front of the embers, his hands behind his back.
“Mr. Anthony, I know how you’re feeling,” Mable said as she walked quietly in from the kitchen, taking a glance up the staircase. “I know Mrs. Michelle and the twins would give just about anything to keep up Adelaide’s tradition.”
He shook his head slowly and stopped, gazing into the fire. “Mable, I don’t know how. You know I’ve sold everything I can. There’s just nothing left.”
“I’ve got a few more things down in the cellar we could sell. If there are any takers.”
Michelle_Bride of Mississippi Page 8
