Ma joined her moments later. “Anna, that was rude. Mr. Landers meant that letter for your brother. I had to assure him I would deliver it to Hendrick tonight, but he wasn’t happy, not at all.”
“I don’t care how he feels. He certainly doesn’t care about us.” Anna dropped the letter on the table. She couldn’t hold it a moment longer. She’d thought Brandon Landers was a hero, but he’d turned out to be the worst sort of villain. “He’s evicting us.”
* * *
Brandon stared at the telephone dial while he waited for his father’s attorney to pick up the line on the other end. The letters and numbers in their brass circles blurred. He leaned his elbows on the desktop and rubbed the fog from his eyes. Should have got more sleep last night. Should have thought of a solution.
Instead, he’d paced all night trying to find a way to keep the Simmonses in the house they’d rented for almost three decades. Mrs. Simmons understood why they had to leave. She’d listened patiently as he explained the terms of the sale his father had negotiated, but her quiet resolve only made him feel worse. He had to help them.
First, he would try to persuade the new owner to extend the deadline.
“MacKenzie here.” The brusque voice of his father’s longtime attorney and executor came on the other end. “What can I do for you, Brandon?”
He hated the attorney’s familiar tone, as if he were part of the family. Perhaps he had wiggled his fingers into Father’s business. Maybe that’s where the money had disappeared. His purchase of the Simmons property was certainly suspicious. He’d said it was just a business venture, that he wanted to open an automobile dealership, that Brandon’s father had made the deal before he’d died, but the man was Father’s attorney and executor. The whole thing smelled rotten. Unfortunately, Brandon had no proof of wrongdoing.
“I need an extension on the Pearlman property on Main and First.” He took a deep breath.
A pause followed. “What sort of extension?”
After weeks of dealing with the attorney, Brandon knew he couldn’t push much. But any little bit would help. “The tenants need more time.”
“You know the contract terms.”
Brandon choked back his impatience. “It’s an elderly woman and her daughter. You can’t put them out at Christmas.”
MacKenzie barely paused. “Your father insisted on those terms.”
Brandon didn’t believe that for a minute. “Why? It doesn’t make any sense. Not only was he keeping the rent unbelievably low, but he sent frequent payments to the family, so why would he sell under such unreasonable terms?”
“Only your father knows.”
“Perfect. And he’s dead.” Once again Brandon choked back his impatience with the slick attorney. “Suppose you make an educated guess.”
“I’m not in the business of speculation, nor would it have been appropriate for him to confide in the buyer.”
Brandon dug the nib of his pen into the blotter. A trace of ink bled into the fibers, making an ugly black mark. “But I can’t force Anna—that is, the tenants—from their home.”
“Then refund the purchase price.”
Brandon growled, “From what you’ve told me, that money was spent. Or did my father have you hide it somewhere?”
“I object to your inference,” MacKenzie retorted. “The contract is ironclad. Fulfill the terms or don’t. The option is yours.”
“But I don’t have the money.”
A pregnant silence followed. “My offer stands. Sign over the deed to your house, and I’ll hand you the property on Main and First.”
Brandon suspected that’s what MacKenzie wanted all along. “This was never a business venture. You want my house. Well, you won’t get it. A Landers built this house, and a Landers will always own it.”
A click on the line signaled an end to the conversation. Brandon hung the receiver on the cradle and buried his head in his hands. He’d let temper get the better of him and solved nothing.
Lifting his head, he stared dully at the room, hoping for an answer. The library had always been his favorite place in the family’s summer home. The paneled walls and floor-to-ceiling bookcases had fueled his imagination. He’d spent hours dreaming of secret passages and hidden rooms and poking into every nook and corner without success.
It would be nice if those walls did hide a fortune in gold, but of course the house held no secrets and offered no money.
He slipped the sales contract back into its folder. MacKenzie had mentioned the only possible solution, but Brandon couldn’t give up this house. It and the bookstore were his future.
Brandon ran a hand through his hair. Somehow he had to help Anna and her mother. He pulled the ledger close and stared at the gloomy figures. He had the house, and his brother had been provided for in an untouchable trust, but the rest of the money was gone. With no income and insufficient savings, the best he could do was find Anna and her mother a decent house to rent.
Too bad they couldn’t live here. The house was certainly big enough for two more people. Originally built in the late 1840s, it had undergone so many additions and reconstructions that few people could find the original rooms. Years of neglect had left the heavy velvet drapes white with dust. The dark walnut furniture could use a good oiling to restore the wood’s sheen. At least the sage green wool carpet was in good condition. A relatively recent addition, it had seen no activity after the year he turned eighteen, when the family stopped coming here.
Even before that, the long summers of his youth had trickled to a week or two each year, but after the summer his mother died, no one came back. Now this musty old house was his. No money to keep it up, nothing but dust and cobwebs. He’d have to hire a housekeeper; one who wouldn’t charge too much, considering his cash had sunk to a pitiful low. Anna’s waves of light brown hair floated to mind, and with it came a thought. She cleaned houses. As quickly as he thought of it, he set the idea aside. It wouldn’t work. A young woman and a bachelor? Tongues would wag.
If not Anna, then perhaps her mother would take the position. That minister had said her hours had just been reduced. It was the perfect solution. They could live here.
The idea took root and flowered as he imagined Anna sitting by the fireplace, her blue eyes dancing with excitement as he told her about the latest discoveries in the Valley of the Kings. She’d turn toward him, smile and ask his opinion.
He shook his head. What nonsense! The girl couldn’t possibly find him attractive. What’s more, she’d never agree to live in this house. Even with her mother here, it was too scandalous.
He stared bleakly out the window. Trees lifted their bony limbs to the sky, anxious for the first coat of white. Brown leaves scurried across the brown lawn. The colorless, lifeless landscape sucked any fragments of hope from his soul.
Then a single ray of sunshine highlighted the answer.
The carriage house. Of course.
He shot to his feet. It just might work.
Without bothering to put the ledger back in the desk, he hurried to the front entry and donned his coat, hat and gloves. He could help Anna and her mother after all.
Chapter Three
“Don’t worry,” Ma said with a pat to Anna’s arm. “The Lord will provide.”
Anna bit back a growl of frustration and rose from the kitchen table, the eviction letter in her hand. She’d spent yesterday evening and all morning trying to get her mother to commit to leasing a room at either Terchie’s Boardinghouse or above the drugstore, but Ma would not settle for less than a house.
“For the hundredth time, we can’t afford a house. If you won’t decide, then I will. We’re moving to Terchie’s, and that’s that.”
She crumpled the vile letter, and tossed it into the stove’s firebox.
Ma looked up from her grocery list. �
��Should you have done that, dearest?”
Though Ma had explained that Brandon’s father was the one who’d sold the house, Anna couldn’t forgive Brandon. He could have renegotiated or done something to change the outcome. After all, he was rich. Instead, he was forcing them from their home at Christmastime.
“We only have twelve days.” Anna laughed bitterly at the irony. “The twelve days of Christmas, only instead of receiving gifts, we’ll sell our belongings.”
“Why on earth would we do that?”
“Because they’ll never fit into a boardinghouse room.”
Pans and dishes filled the kitchen cupboards. Every closet contained linens and clothes and coats and galoshes. And that didn’t even include the attic. Ma had never thrown out Papa’s things. She’d packed them into trunks, which then went into the attic. None of it would fetch more than pennies, but they couldn’t take it with them.
“We’ll hold a sale this Saturday,” Anna stated. “It will be a lot of work, but we can use the money. We’ll put everything we can lift into the living room, and Hendrick and Peter can move the rest.”
“Slow down, dearest. There’s no need to get rid of anything. We have plenty of time to find a house. Besides, this coming Saturday is just two days before Christmas. We can’t hold a sale then.”
“Yes, we can. It’s the perfect time.”
“But you can’t mean to sell your father’s gifts.”
Anna choked back tears at the thought of parting with the dolls Papa had given her, but they didn’t have room for sentimental treasures. “Maybe someone who can’t afford new toys this year can get something from us.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “It’s time a little girl used my old dolls. I won’t be having children anytime soon.”
“Oh, my darling girl. All things in good time. There’s no need to sacrifice your dolls just yet. If we don’t find a house right away, perhaps Mariah and Hendrick will keep them for us at the orphanage.”
“Maybe,” Anna mumbled, ashamed she hadn’t thought of that solution. “The girls there could enjoy them.” She wiped her tears on her sleeve. “But there are still the rest of our things. They won’t fit into a single room.”
“Have patience. There’s no need to lease a room just yet,” Ma insisted. “The Lord will provide exactly what we need.”
“What and how? Tell me exactly, because I don’t see it.”
“Through faith.”
“Faith?” Anna pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead. “Faith is fine, Ma, but God expects us to act. We need to leave this house in twelve days. That’s a fact. We haven’t leased another place to stay. That’s another fact. I don’t see a grand house out there with our name on the signpost, and even if there was, we couldn’t afford it. No, we have to rent a room. Terchie’s Boardinghouse is the best option. If something comes up later, we can move again.”
Ma’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t we wait a bit?”
“No, we can’t. Nor can we expect Hendrick and Mariah to house all our belongings. The orphanage is overfull as it is, and the factory is still under construction. Neither has room for old pots and pans. We’ll hold a sale.”
Ma’s hand shook as she lifted a tin soldier from the shelf above the table. From Anna’s favorite doll to Papa’s anniversary gifts to Ma, this shelf traced a lifetime of memories. The toy soldier’s paint had flecked off long ago. “Your father gave this to your brother on his seventh birthday—before you were born,” Ma mused. “He saved every penny so he could buy it. Hendrick loved this soldier. He should have it.” She cupped the toy in the palm of her hand. “Your brother wanted to join the war, but I was so grateful they wouldn’t let him enlist.” Tears misted her eyes.
Now she’d done it. Anna hadn’t meant to make her mother cry.
“I’m sorry, Ma.” Anna wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders.
“Good memories.” Ma kissed the top of her head. “I pray you find as wonderful a man as I did.”
Ma still missed Papa terribly, even after so many years. “I don’t think there’s anyone as wonderful as Papa.”
“I’m sure there is. He’d be good and caring. He’d value honor and integrity, and he’d love you above all but God.”
For a moment, Anna allowed herself to sink into girlish dreams. “And he’d be handsome.”
Ma stroked her hair. “Of course he would be. Take Mr. Brandon, for example. He’s quite handsome.”
Anna pulled out of her mother’s arms. “No, he’s not.” Though she could hardly take her eyes from him, she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially since he’d proven heartless and cruel. “His nose is too large.”
“It’s perfectly proportioned.”
“His eyes are too close together.”
“I found them quite nicely spaced. Deep blue too.”
“Not blue. They’re gray.”
“Ah,” Ma said softly, “I must have been mistaken. But you can’t deny he carries himself well. So strong and commanding.”
“He limps and has to use a cane.”
Ma clucked her tongue. “Anna Marie, that’s unkind. He suffered an injury. Why, as a boy he ran around like any other child. He must have been hurt in the Great War. That’s something to respect, not turn your nose up at.”
“But he doesn’t respect us.” An angry tear rolled down her cheek. She could forgive his infirmities but not his actions. “If he really cared, he wouldn’t evict us from our home.”
“Hush, dear. He is simply doing what he must. We are tenants and have no claim on this house. I always knew this day might come.”
“You did?”
Ma looked off into space, lost in the past. “Your father sold this property and his portion of the business to Brandon’s father years ago. I’m afraid your papa wasn’t a very good businessman.” Ma smiled softly. “But I loved him still. He had a heart of gold, would give to anyone who asked for help, even if they didn’t deserve it. I’m afraid some took advantage of him.”
“Like Mr. Landers.”
Ma shook her head. “Mr. Landers was simply doing what any businessman would do. Don’t blame others for our own faults.” She ran a finger down Anna’s cheek, wiping dry the track of a tear. “Your father knew that riches in this life did not matter.”
Anna wasn’t so sure. A decent income would get them out of this predicament. “What about Mr. Thompson? Maybe he can help us. Didn’t he own part of the business?”
Ma shook her head. “When your father and Mr. Thompson started the garage, your papa took out the loan for both properties. Mr. Thompson worked for him. He never owned a share of the business, even though your father called him a partner.”
Anna’s heart sank. Was there no way they could keep the house?
“Sales weren’t too brisk that first year. Before long your father began to miss loan payments. The bank held off foreclosing until your father could find investors. The only man willing to invest was Percival Landers, Brandon’s father. If not for him, we wouldn’t have had this house and the garage for all these years.”
“Brandon’s father owned the garage too? Did he sell that? Is Hendrick out of work?”
“Both properties sold,” Ma said, “but the new owner wants to keep the garage open.”
At least her brother would have an income until the factory turned a profit. “I still don’t understand why we have to leave. You would think the new owner would want the rental income.”
Ma sighed. “Percival Landers charged a very low rent.”
“Are you saying he gave us charity?”
“Mr. Landers treated us with Christian kindness, especially after your father’s death. I can’t count the times he helped Hendrick keep the garage going. You can’t blame him for selling the property.”
Anna could. Ma might call it Christian ki
ndness, but it didn’t sound like it to her. No wonder Hendrick wanted to strike out on his own. No wonder he wanted to make a go of it with his factory. At least he could call it his.
“We’re poor.” Though she’d always known it, saying the word stung.
“No, dearest. We’re richer than the wealthiest man alive, for we have each other and we have God’s love.”
Anna did not point out that the richest man on earth might also have a family and love God.
Ma offered a gentle smile. Despite losing the love of her life when Papa died, she’d never spoken a word of regret. She gave to all who needed consoling and spent many hours at bedsides and baking for the bereaved.
How blessed Anna was to have her for a mother. She bit her lip to stem the tears, but a sniffle escaped nonetheless. If Ma could stay positive, so could she. “Then we’ll be the richest people at Terchie’s.”
Ma laughed, her cheeks rounding, and Anna couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, some way, they’d survive.
“I love you, Ma, and I’m sorry for getting upset.”
“I know, dearest, and I’m sorry I—” A sharp rap on the front door interrupted her midsentence. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” Anna pulled herself to her feet. A hundred worries bounced through her head, but this time she wouldn’t let them take root. “I’ll see who it is.”
She opened the front door. There stood Brandon Landers, his gray eyes dark and his expression unreadable. She flushed at the sight of his perfectly proportioned nose and nicely spaced eyes.
“Miss Simmons.”
“Mr. Landers.” She ducked her head to hide her reddening cheeks. Why was she reacting this way? He was the enemy.
“Is your mother here?”
He looked into her eyes just for a second, but that single glance did her in. Every thought fled her mind.
“Mr. Brandon,” Ma said as she wiggled beside Anna. “It’s so good to see you again. Would you like to come in?”
“No. I think not.” He cleared his throat. “I have a proposition for you.” Again he glanced at Anna. Again her pulse raced. “The Landers property includes a carriage house. Perhaps you’re acquainted with it?”
Legacy of Love Page 3
