“What if I told you,” Quinn said slowly, a hint of trepidation in his voice, “that your rent has been paid for the next month?”
She stopped to stare at him. “What do you mean it’s been paid?”
Looking sheepish, Quinn shrugged.
A burst of anger shot through her system as understanding dawned. She opened her mouth, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he touched her elbow and leaned close. “Let’s discuss this as we walk, shall we?” He opened the restaurant door and waited for her to exit.
Not wishing to make a scene, she marched along the sidewalk, certain that steam must be whistling from her ears. “You had no right to do that, Quinten Aspinall. I will pay my own way or sleep in the streets.”
When she glanced over at him, the faint twitch of his lips only increased her annoyance. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Never.” But then his grin stretched across his face, belying his claim. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you look so . . . adorable all riled up that way.”
“Hmph.” She lifted her chin and kept walking, willing her lips not to curve.
He came up beside her again. “Please tell me you’re not seriously thinking of living in the streets. Anything would have to be better than that.”
“Not anything. Trust me.” Visions of the leering Mr. Ketchum rose in her mind, and she shuddered. She’d take rats running over her rather than submit to that type of payment.
“Right, then, let’s look at this from a different angle. What type of work would you ideally like to do?”
She stopped at the next corner. “Nursing. Or some other position that ministers to the suffering.”
A streetcar sailed by, its bells clanging, warning the other traffic to steer clear. When the road emptied, they made their way across. Quinn kept a hand under her elbow, a gallant gesture Julia found reassuring and more than a little appealing.
“After watching Sam struggle,” she continued, “I wanted to find a way to help other men like him. Dr. Clayborne says the rate of suicide among returning soldiers is very high. Their physical wounds can be treated, but there’s no real relief for their emotional turmoil.”
“A noble yet daunting goal. I imagine it would involve specialized training?”
“Yes. Either nursing or social work would require college courses. Which is another problem, since I have no money for those either.” The frustration of her situation continued to eat at her. No matter which way she turned, she reached an impasse.
“Let’s speak with Mrs. Chamberlain when we return. Perhaps this newcomers group of hers might offer you a solution. Or at least the possibility of finding a better-paying job.”
She glanced at his profile as they stopped again to wait for the traffic to clear. Such a noble chin and jaw, as well as a high, almost aristocratic forehead. Quinn looked more like someone from the upper class than she did. “May I ask why you’re worrying about me when you have your own problems to contend with?”
When he turned to look at her, the intensity of his gaze made her pulse flutter.
“What kind of man would I be if I left you to the mercy of that landlord? Once you’re safely settled at Mrs. Chamberlain’s and I know Reverend Burke has agreed to help you, then I’ll be able to focus on my own affairs.”
Julia swallowed the lump forming in her throat. What kind of man indeed?
“I think,” she said softly, “that you are a most honorable man. And I’m very grateful for your help.”
Quinn’s cheeks turned ruddy. “Glad I could be of service.”
“I won’t forget your kindness, and I promise to one day return the favor.” Her voice quavered. Other than Dr. Clayborne, no one had shown any concern for her since Sam’s death. Her thoughts turned to Richard Hawkins, Sam’s family physician. She shuddered and quickly pushed the memories away. It would serve no purpose to relive her shame over how easily he’d manipulated her into believing he was a caring person.
Every instinct told Julia that Quinn was nothing like the deceitful Dr. Hawkins. Instead, this humble man, a servant in her uncle’s employ, treated her with more respect and consideration than she’d received in a long time.
He smiled and winked. “Be warned. I intend to hold you to that promise too, Miss Holloway.”
CHAPTER 7
“I’m so glad you agreed to come to the meeting tonight.” Mrs. Chamberlain gave Julia a warm hug as they entered the hall in the basement of Holy Trinity Church. “I’m sure you’ll find it’s like a wee taste of home.”
A damp, somewhat musty odor met Julia’s nose as they entered the large room. Several people stood talking beside a table along the far wall.
“These meetings are always fun.” Barbara, one of Mrs. C.’s long-term tenants, looped her arm through Julia’s. “Especially now with the men back from war. They really appreciate our home-baked pies.”
Now Julia understood why the girls had insisted on baking all afternoon.
Armed with two baskets of pies and muffins, Barbara and Mabel marched over to the table and began to unload their wares.
“Never mind them, dear.” Mrs. C. chuckled. “Those two are more interested in finding husbands than helping Reverend Burke with the newcomers. Not that there hasn’t been a romance or two started here. But our main concern is seeing that people like you have the opportunity to find stable jobs, decent housing, and, of course, a place to worship on Sundays.”
Julia smiled. “Any help at all will be greatly appreciated, though you’ve already done more than enough.”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. C. shook her head. “I could never let a fine young girl like you stay in one of those hovels. I’ve written numerous letters to the mayor over the years to do something about that area of town. Unfortunately, they’ve had little effect so far.”
Julia laughed. “Is there any cause you don’t champion, Mrs. C.?”
“I only support the causes I feel strongly about. I love this city, and I intend to see it live up to its full potential. Just like the girls who live at my house.”
Warmth spread through Julia’s chest. With someone like Mrs. C. on her side, her circumstances would surely have to improve.
“Here comes Reverend Burke now. Looks like Quinten’s already bending his ear.”
Julia’s heart sped at the sight of Quinn crossing the room. He was so tall and handsome next to the shorter minister. And when his intense gaze found hers, she had to resist the urge to pat her hair and make sure no pins were slipping.
What was wrong with her? He was her uncle’s valet. Back home, she wouldn’t even be allowed to speak to him unless discussing a household matter. But here in this foreign land, where the social class structure was much more relaxed, Julia found herself wanting to be around the man who made her feel so safe and valued.
“Mrs. Chamberlain. Miss Holloway.” Quinn gave a polite bow. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Mr. Aspinall.” Was it only yesterday since Julia had spent so much time talking with him?
“Now listen here, you two. We’re not that formal around here.” Mrs. C. laughed. “Are we, Geoffrey?”
The reverend raised a bushy brow. “Indeed we are not, Harriet.”
A hint of pink infused Mrs. C.’s cheeks. “Forgive my manners. Julia, this is Reverend Burke, the minister here at Holy Trinity.”
“A pleasure to meet you, my dear.” Grinning, he took Julia’s hand in his. “I hope you don’t mind, but Quinten has been filling me in on your situation. I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard time of it, but I’m certain we’ll be able to help you improve your circumstances.” He waved a hand around the room. “We have a far-reaching network among our members. And everyone here has been in your shoes at one time or another. I’ll put out some feelers to see if anyone knows of any possible job opportunities.”
“Thank you, Reverend. You have no idea how comforting that is.” Julia swallowed hard. “I’ve been feeling so alone since . . . my friend died.”
Rev. Burke nodded gravely. “And I remember how overwhelming the city feels at first when you’re far from home. Which is why Harriet and I make it our mission to help immigrants any way we can. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this meeting under way. We’ll talk again soon.”
Quinn escorted Julia to the metal folding chairs positioned in a semi-circle facing the dais and sat down beside her. The hour-long meeting flew by with Rev. Burke, as well as several other people, speaking on various issues, mostly concerning the poorer citizens of the city. Somewhat self-consciously, Julia introduced herself to the assembly, along with two other ladies and a man also new to the group.
Later, during refreshment time, Julia was amazed at how many people came to speak with her and offer their assistance. She was chatting with Barbara when a touch at her elbow made her turn.
“Excuse me, Julia. Might I have a quick word?” Though Quinn smiled, the unease in his eyes made her pulse quicken.
“Of course.” She excused herself and followed him to a quieter spot.
“I wanted to make sure you felt comfortable with Mrs. C. and Reverend Burke before I leave.” He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, as he used to do when performing his duties. However, something about his demeanor radiated anxiety.
“I feel right at home. They’ve both been most kind.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk home with Mrs. C. and the other girls. You don’t have to wait.” The fact that he was so concerned about her safety made her appreciate how much of a gentleman he was. Most of her peers back in England were nowhere near as solicitous.
“That’s good to know, but I didn’t just mean tonight.” He exhaled slowly. “I’m planning on leaving tomorrow to travel north and look for my brothers. Once I’ve found them, I’ll start searching for my sister.”
“Oh, I see.” Why did it feel like a hole had opened in her stomach? “How long will you be gone?”
“Several days. Maybe longer if I run into difficulties.” He reached for her hand. “But I won’t leave if you’re not comfortable with your present . . . arrangement.” His gray eyes searched hers.
Between the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his hand, Julia found it hard to formulate an intelligent response. She swallowed. “You don’t have to worry about me, Quinn. You’ve paid my way for now at the boardinghouse. And Reverend Burke seems to think he’ll be able to find me a better position.” She forced a smile so he wouldn’t detect the anxiety creeping into her system.
“Promise me you’ll stay with Mrs. C. until I return.”
“Why is this so important to you?” She peered at him, a sudden suspicion growing. “Did my uncle make you agree to watch out for me?”
He stiffened. “This has nothing to do with your uncle.”
“But you barely know me. I don’t understand why you feel so responsible for my well-being.” She lifted her chin. It still chafed somewhat being in his debt when she wasn’t clear on his motives. And after the fiasco with Sam’s physician, Julia still wasn’t sure she could trust her own judgment.
Quinn let out a breath. “You may find this difficult to believe, but I consider you one of the family. Perhaps it’s because I was accountable for your uncle’s welfare, as well as those living within Brentwood’s walls. I couldn’t bear thinking about you living in the type of horrid conditions you were before.”
The sincerity in his gaze was almost too much to take. “I’ll be fine, Quinn. Thank you for your concern.”
“Very well, then.” The lines of tension around his eyes eased. “I look forward to seeing you again upon my return.” He lifted her hand to his lips.
Warmth spread up her arm and soon enveloped her cheeks. “Godspeed, Quinn. I pray you have good news to bring back.”
“And I as well. Good-bye for now, Julia.”
He held her gaze for several seconds before releasing her hand and striding away.
“Keep him safe, Lord,” she murmured. “And may he find his siblings in good health.”
The hours on the train to Elmvale the next day gave Quinn too much time to think. Never had he been so torn by a decision. First, he feared he was making a mistake going in search of his brothers before trying to find Becky. But Peterborough was two hours in the opposite direction, and by choosing to go north first, Quinn could check on both boys at once. Even though he worried about Becky’s welfare, she was almost eighteen, whereas Harry was still only a boy of twelve. All Quinn could do was to pray that the Lord would keep everyone safe until he could get to them.
Second, he hated leaving Julia behind. In some manner, he felt he was shirking his duty, which was silly. She was in excellent hands with Mrs. Chamberlain. Quinn had already spoken to the woman and enlisted her help in ensuring Julia’s well-being. He’d also taken Jonathan and Emmaline into his confidence and requested them to befriend Julia in his absence. Everyone had assured him they would treat her as one of their own.
That notion alone gave Quinn a small measure of comfort as the train approached the Elmvale station. For the present time, he must put Julia out of his mind and concentrate on his brothers.
Quinn had decided to travel to Elmvale first, the town farthest away. If he was able to locate Cecil, the two of them could then make their way back to Caledon, where Harry was staying. Quinn would be grateful to have Cecil’s company on the second leg of his trip, and if all went according to plan, the three of them would travel back to Toronto together.
After that, Quinn needed to go to the placement home where Becky had been sent. But he hoped to put his brothers in Rev. Burke’s care before he set off on the next phase of his quest.
And he also wanted to see Julia again. Depending on her circumstances at the time, he was toying with the idea of asking her to accompany him to find Becky. His instincts told him he would be more favorably received with a woman along. After all, a man claiming to be Becky’s brother might be viewed with suspicion.
He shook his head as the train came to a grinding halt. There was no point in getting too far ahead of himself. “One step at a time, lad,” as his father always said.
Minutes later, Quinn settled his hat on his head, stepped down onto the platform, and simply stared. Other than the train station in front of him, the landscape spread out around him in a sea of green. Nothing but miles of rolling hills and trees. How would he ever find Cecil’s farm?
He headed over to the depot, hoping someone would be inside. Thankfully, a man was stationed at the desk.
“Good afternoon,” Quinn said. “I wondered if you could help me.”
“I’ll do my best,” the man said with a smile. “Are you looking for a place to stay?”
Quinn’s accent likely made him think he was a visitor.
“Actually, I’m looking for my younger brother who works on one of the farms in this area. Unfortunately, I don’t know the name of the owner.”
The thin man frowned. “That could be like looking for a needle in a haystack. There are hundreds of farms in this neck of the woods.”
Quinn’s spirits sank. No wonder Mr. Hobday had revealed the name of the town. He knew it would be near impossible to find anyone with such limited information.
“What’s your brother’s name? Maybe I’ve met him.”
“Cecil Aspinall.” Quinn leaned an arm on the counter. “He’s about sixteen, and he’s been working here for several years now.”
The man’s brows shot up. “Cecil? I know the boy. He often comes to meet the train and pick up shipments for Mr. Sherman. A very polite young man.”
“That’s fantastic.” Quinn could scarcely believe his luck at finding someone who knew Cecil so quickly. “Can you give me directions to Mr. Sherman’s property?”
A shadow crossed the clerk’s face. He straightened some brochures on the counter before meeting Quinn’s gaze. “I’d be very careful if I were you. Mr. Sherman isn’t exactly the friendly type. He won’t appreciate you nosing around his farm.”
Quinn straightened slowly. �
�Thank you for the advice. I’ll be sure to knock on the front door and introduce myself in a most proper manner before I start ‘nosing around.’”
The clerk studied Quinn for a moment, then shrugged. “Suit yourself, mister. The Sherman farm is on Rural Road Three. About eight miles due north of here.”
“Eight miles?” Quinn’s stomach dropped. “I don’t suppose there’s anywhere nearby to rent a horse?”
“Now, there I can help you. Hank’s Livery is two blocks that way.” He pointed to the right.
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been most helpful.”
“Good luck with your brother.”
From the serious look on the man’s face, Quinn wondered exactly what he would find on the Sherman farm.
CHAPTER 8
Julia knocked on the door of Dr. Clayborne’s office, then took a step back. Her heart beat hard against her ribs, and her breath felt too heavy to escape her lungs. The gnawing fear that had kept her up at nights now demanded she take some sort of action. To deny or confirm her suspicions once and for all.
“Come in.”
Julia inhaled deeply, then stepped through the door.
Dr. Clayborne sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. “Miss Holloway. What can I do for you?”
Her mouth went dry, and no words would come out. This was a bad idea. Dr. Clayborne had already been so good to her. She couldn’t ask him for any more favors. “Never mind. I . . . It’s not important.”
“Is there a problem with your job?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “If they’re not treating you well, I can speak to your supervisor.”
“No. That’s not . . .” She wrung her hands together. “As I said, it’s not important.” She started to turn toward the door.
“It was important enough to bring you here after your shift.” The doctor’s kind gaze held hers. “Why not tell me what’s on your mind?”
The Brightest of Dreams Page 7
