Hopeful Hearts

by Diann Hunt

  Sophia came back into the room, almost out of breath. “I’ve finished the baby’s booties.” She held up tiny knitted booties and wiggled them from the ends of her fingers for Abigail to see.

  “Oh, these are adorable!” Abigail ran her fingers carefully along the dainty stitches. She looked up at her friend. “I’m so happy for you, Sophia.”

  Sophia beamed and carefully placed the booties into a box.

  Abigail glanced at the timepiece dangling from a golden chain around her neck. “Oh dear, I’d better go. Titus has been waiting ten minutes already for me.”

  The two friends hugged. “I will be praying for you, Abigail, and for Titus.”

  “Thank you. And I will be praying for you,” she said, adding a pat to Sophia’s stomach, “and the little one.”

  Sophia walked Abigail to the door and waved at Titus. He waved back and stepped over to help Abigail into the carriage.

  “To Barnabas House now?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.” With one more glance toward the Thread Bearer, Abigail waved good-bye to her friend, all the while thanking the Lord for Sophia and praying for their little family.

  No one seemed to notice Abigail as she stepped into Barnabas House. The workers were engrossed in their duties, and children sat at their table with slates in hand, carefully working out arithmetic lessons. Julie stood peering over their shoulders, checking their work. Before Abigail could reach them, Mary O’Grady’s voice called behind her.

  “Abigail, so good to see you!”

  She turned to Mary’s smiling face. “Mary O’Grady—I mean, Doyle! How are you?”

  The woman blushed. “I’m thanking you for asking. We’re doing just fine, that we are.”

  “And Katie?”

  “Ah, my little lassie is happy as can be.” They both looked over at the little girl. The tip of her tongue poked slightly through the corner of her mouth as she worked diligently on her slate. The women chuckled.

  “I don’t know how the wee one would work without the help of her tongue. Would you like some coffee?”

  “No thank you. I just came in to see when Julie needed my help. She’s a hard worker.”

  “Aye, she is. Do you mind that she has taken over so much of the work?”

  Abigail smiled. “Not at all. As you know, I’ve been working with Jenny Matthews.”

  “Aye. How is that coming along?”

  Abigail explained Jenny’s progress. Before they could continue, Katie’s voice broke through their discussion.

  “Miss Abigail!” She ran over to hug her. Katie looked up and smiled, revealing a missing tooth on the top, just right of the middle.

  Abigail gasped. “Oh my, you’ve lost a tooth! Aren’t you the lucky one!”

  Katie beamed, swinging from side to side. Her fingers felt around her neckline, and she pulled out her locket for Abigail to see.

  Abigail stooped down. “Oh Katie dear, I’m so glad to see you wearing your necklace.”

  Without a word, Katie dropped the necklace back into place and threw her arms around Abigail. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “Where’s Barnabas?” Katie asked, looking around.

  “He couldn’t come today. I had other errands to attend to.”

  Katie nodded and changed the subject. “I like my new pa.”

  Abigail looked up at Mary, and they exchanged a smile. “He is a good pa, Katie.”

  “I’m working hard today.” She crinkled her nose and quirked her lips into a pucker. “I don’t like arithmetic much.”

  Abigail crinkled her nose. “I don’t either. But it’s one of those things we need to know.” Abigail laughed and touched the tip of Katie’s nose with her finger. “Now, you’d better get back to work.” After one more hug, the little girl skipped back to the table.

  The other children, noting her absence, looked up to see Abigail, and they waved. She smiled and returned their greeting.

  “They love you, you know,” Mary said.

  “I know. I love them, too.”

  “Well, I’ll be letting you talk to Julie. I wanted to say hello before you got away.”

  “Mary, it’s good to see you so happy.” Abigail could see the sparkle in the woman’s eyes. Such a contrast to what she used to see there.

  “Aye, God has worked a miracle for us. We’ll be forever grateful.”

  The two women hugged once more, and then Abigail made her way to Julie to see when next she would be needed to help.

  Titus’s heart flipped when he saw Abigail step from Barnabas House. Never before had he felt this way about a woman. And their future held together by a sliver of hope. If Eliza had her way, she would shred every chance of happiness from everyone in her path. He had never seen a woman with such a bent toward evil. Before he could allow his harsh judgment of her to run rampant, he remembered she was no different from what he had been before the Lord cleansed him. God could do the same for Eliza. Titus needed to pray for her.

  In the meantime, what would become of Abigail? Her family? Please, God, protect them from Eliza’s evil scheme.

  “Thank you for waiting, Titus,” Abigail was saying when she stepped up to the carriage.

  “My pleasure, Abby.” She looked at him with a start. He could have kicked himself. Why had he called her that? It had slipped from his tongue before he could stop it. Though he had called her that a thousand times in his dreams, he had never used so familiar a name when addressing her before. “I’m sorry,” he corrected himself.

  She touched his arm. “Don’t be. I like it.”

  How he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her like before. Would they ever know a moment like that again? He started to lift her into the carriage, and she hesitated a moment. Her eyes looked up to him. “Titus, is everything all right?”

  He swallowed hard. “Yes. Why?”

  “You’ve just seemed a little, well, distant, in the past few days. Jenny is all right, isn’t she?”

  Her worried eyes melted his heart. As always, she worried about someone else. So unlike Eliza. “Jenny is fine.”

  “And you?”

  How he wanted to tell her the truth before Eliza could spread her poison, but he didn’t know where to start or what to say. Would she forgive him for his original intention of wanting to get back at her family? Would she believe he had changed?

  “Titus?” Her questioning eyes bore into him.

  He sighed. “I’m fine, Abigail. Really.” He didn’t want to lie to her, but the setting wasn’t right. He could hardly go into the entire story while standing at the side of the road with buggies and people walking about. Still, how could he be anything less than honest? “Maybe sometime soon we can talk.” There, he let her know something was amiss; he just didn’t go into what it was.

  Her questioning eyes met his once again. “I’d like that.” She lifted her hand so he might help her into the carriage. The mere touch of her hand made him weak-kneed. No doubt about it, he had to talk to her. He couldn’t live with himself until she knew the truth. Better he talk to her before Eliza did. Eliza would hold nothing back. She would spit the truth out, making it as bleak and ugly as possible.

  No, he couldn’t let that happen. He had to talk to Abigail first chance they got. Hopefully, he could get to her before Eliza.

  Chapter 17

  It was midmorning on Saturday before Titus could get Abigail alone. He was careful not to let Eliza see them for fear she would get jealous and spill the news in a fit of anger. When Abigail slipped from the house into the barn, he had the wagon hitched and ready to go.

  “Now, Titus, tell me what all this secrecy is about,” Abigail said with a chuckle. How he hated to reveal the truth and shatter her happiness.

  “I’d rather take you somewhere, Abigail, just the two of us, and talk about it.”

  “All I know is this has something to do with Eliza, and you’re not going to give me even a hint as to what else?”

  He smiled at her
, trying to keep her at ease. “You’ll find out soon enough.” His finger trailed her cheekbone. “Just remember, things aren’t always as they seem.” She studied him. He reached over to help her into her seat when he heard the rattling of a carriage. He looked up to see Mr. O’Connor returning home from his trip. Abigail dashed across the yard with the excitement of a child.

  Mr. O’Connor’s arrival struck Titus with a heavy blow. For in that moment, Titus realized he was too late.

  He slipped back into the barn while the family came out to greet Mr. O’Connor. Their happy murmurings drifted into the barn as he tried to sort the matter through in his mind.

  “You coming in?” Eliza’s words sliced through the air.

  His head jerked up to see her standing in front of him; a face hard as a wagon wheel looked at him. “They’re fixin’ to sit down to some lunch.”

  “It’s not quite time for lunch.”

  “Probably just coffee and a pastry or two. Something to celebrate Uncle’s return.” Eliza laughed. “We’ll have something to celebrate, all right.” She turned to go.

  Titus grabbed her arm. “Eliza, I beg you, don’t do this.”

  She sneered at him. “You’re crazy as a loon if you think I’m giving this up after all my planning.”

  “I don’t care beans about all your planning. By hurting this family, you accomplish nothing.”

  “Oh, I accomplish something, all right.”

  “They have done nothing but extend kindness to you. For that you hate them?”

  She jerked her arm free. “What would you know? You’re merely their chauffeur. You’re soft because of Abigail.” She snapped the name off her tongue as if it were poison. “You know nothing of our family history. They blame my father for everything. But I know different. I’ve heard his side of the story.”

  “That’s right, you’ve heard his side, and you’ve allowed it to poison your mind, Eliza. Your father is wrong. If this family is so bad and he’s such a wonderful father, why would he leave you with them? You might as well face it, Eliza, your father is a snake!”

  Before he could blink, she reached her arm back and slapped him across the face. He stared at her in disbelief. She stepped back, as if shocked by her own action. Without another word, she turned and ran to the house.

  He had provoked her, and he knew for that he would pay. Most likely, so would the O’Connors.

  Once the chatter of Mr. O’Connor’s trip and the excitement of having him home once again died down, Mrs. O’Connor passed around the pastries and filled the coffee cups.

  Titus’s stomach gurgled as nausea filled him. Not knowing when Eliza planned to attack made him weak. Finally, in the quiet of the moment as they passed the pastry plate, she struck like a venomous snake.

  “Oh, did I tell you the last time I was at Gramma’s house that I found her journal?” She took a bite of pastry and looked at them with a smile, seeming to enjoy their shocked expressions. Titus noticed Thomas O’Connor’s face turned pale.

  “Honestly, Eliza, I don’t think you should be snooping into Gramma’s personal belongings,” Abigail said.

  “That’s right, dear. A journal is very personal. People don’t mean to share their words with others,” Mrs. O’Connor added.

  Eliza chewed slowly, as if to draw out the matter. Titus wished her father had taken her to the woodshed as a child. Better still, he wished Mr. O’Connor would do it now. She reached under the table and pulled out the journal. With slow motions, she pulled it open. “Hmm, it says here,” she moved her tongue around her teeth as if to stall further, then smacked her lips together. “Um, let’s see.” She ran her finger along the page. “Oh yes, here it is.”

  Titus braced himself. Slowly, with great deliberation, she read the revealing words, accentuating those words that would bring the most pain. Her tongue sliced its way into their souls, like the cut of a deadly blade. After all was read, they sat in a cold silence.

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Mrs. O’Connor looked at Eliza. “Why did you tell us this?”

  “Oh,” she said with a wave of her hand, “Titus and I thought it would be a good idea. After all you’ve done for the two of us, separating me from my father and, of course, separating Titus from his father.”

  Abigail looked at him with the greatest sorrow he had ever seen on the face of another. Her eyes filled with tears. His tongue refused to move, knowing no words could salve the pain for any of them. She got up from the table and ran to her room. Mrs. O’Connor quickly followed.

  Eliza continued to eat as though nothing had happened.

  “Mr. O’Connor, I—” Titus tried to explain, but Thomas O’Connor held up his hand. The older man turned to Eliza. “I will write your father, Eliza. You can take the first train home. I’m certain that’s what you had hoped for, anyway.” She offered a smile, but one look at Titus erased the smile from her face.

  Titus stood to his feet, hat in hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Connor. Truly sorry.” He walked out the front door and didn’t look back.

  The O’Connor family managed to get through Sunday with little conversation. No one spoke of Eliza’s news. Rather, they talked of surface things, attended church together, then hurried home to retreat behind closed doors.

  On Monday morning, Abigail opened her eyes to the sound of muffled cries and looked into her mother’s tearstained face.

  “I’m leaving, dear. Just for a little while,” she whispered, using her fingers to brush aside Abigail’s hair from her face.

  Abigail gasped and sat up in the bed. “What will I do, Mother?”

  “You’ll be fine. Your father has gone to work, but I’ve left him a note. He’ll need you to see after him. You’re old enough to understand that I need time to think, sort things through. I love your father desperately, but I’m struggling with his deception. I can hardly bear it.”

  “Where will you go, Mother?”

  “I’m going to visit an old friend. She lives on Nantucket Island and recently lost her husband. I suppose the time near the sea will do me good, though it’s cold this time of year. Perhaps I can help her through her grief. Still, I don’t know that I’ll be of any good.”

  Abigail started to cry. “How long will you be gone?”

  Her mother looked away. “I’m afraid I don’t know. Pray for me.”

  “I feel like this is all my fault.” Abigail pulled her hands up to her face.

  Mother’s attention jerked back to her. “Oh my, no! You have been the dearest thing to me. An answer to my prayers. I never doubted God used you to restore joy to my life.”

  “Yet now you want to leave.”

  “It’s not you I’m leaving, dear.” Mother smoothed Abigail’s hair.

  “You would leave Father. But hasn’t he suffered in silence for all these years? You heard the words of Gramma’s journal—he wanted to spare you the pain.”

  Mother thought a moment. “Yes, I know. Still, knowing he betrayed my love and lived a lie all these years …” Her words trailed off.

  “But he didn’t know the Lord when he committed the sin.”

  “Yes, but he knew me.” Fresh tears began to flow.

  Abigail squeezed her mother’s arms. “It was so long ago. Can’t you forgive him?”

  “I want to, Abigail. I truly do.”

  “But you’ve talked to me endless times about forgiving others. Even forgiving Jonathan for the pain he caused me.”

  Mother nodded. She looked her daughter full in the face. “Perhaps I never fully understood your pain because I’ve never had to forgive such a betrayal of trust. I’ve never known such pain, Abigail. The strength to forgive must come from God. I cannot find it in me.”

  The two women embraced. Abigail allowed her tears to flow. “Please, don’t go.”

  “Pray for me. I will pray for you.”

  After one more hug, Mother turned from Abigail’s room and collected her things. Mother waited by the door for Titus to bring the carriage around. Abigail st
ood nearby but couldn’t bring herself to say another word. She knew her mother’s mind was made up.

  When Titus finally knocked at the front door, Abigail jumped. “Mother?”

  Her mother turned to her. “Pray, Abigail. Pray for us all.” With that, her mother walked out the door and out of her life. For how long, Abigail didn’t know. She prayed that one day her mother would return. And that her father would be waiting.

  Titus carried out some luggage then returned for the last piece. Abigail lifted it and handed it to him. Their eyes met for a moment. His face was red and swollen with dirt streaked across his cheek. His eyes begged for understanding.

  A lump grew in Abigail’s throat, and she could say nothing. She could only stand and watch as he turned and walked away, and the carriage once again prepared to take away someone she loved.

  Two someones.

  With a flick of the reins, Titus had the team up and trotting. Abigail stood in the doorway and watched them fade into the flurry of snow. She glanced at the heavy gray clouds looming overhead. Fresh snowflakes fell to the ground, covering the crusty, cold earth beneath. A thought intruded and surprised her. God’s love did that for her. Made her black heart pure as new-fallen snow.

  Though Abigail had no idea how this would all turn out, her heavy heart quickened with the reminder that God was in control. Barnabas rubbed against her legs, pushing his nose into her skirts. She patted him twice on the head; he licked the top of her hand and snuggled some more.

  With a sigh, Abigail closed the door then turned toward the shell of what had once been a home. A home ringing with laughter and joy.

  Walking toward the kitchen, Abigail decided she’d better make plans for dinner.

  Later that evening, Eliza elected to eat her meal in her room. The next morning’s train would carry her home.

  Father ate a little dinner with Abigail, though neither had much to say. After their meal, Abigail went into the drawing room and settled by the fire, mending some clothes. Father joined her, reading the newspaper. After a little while, he folded the paper and laid it on the floor beside him.