Heart Appearances (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 560) (12 page)

Charleigh looked at the materials, then up at her stepmother.

Alice lifted her brows. “Well, what are you gawking at, Charleigh?”

“I don’t know how to knit.”

“And what do you think I’m here for? I’m aiming to teach you. The good Lord knows you need something useful to do, stuck in this bed day in and day out.”

Darcy could have hugged the old woman for her thoughtfulness. “What a wonderful idea!” Another thought occurred to her. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you teach me too?”

Alice smiled. “Got someone special in mind you want to make something for, Missy?”

Heat rushed to Darcy’s face at Alice’s astute gaze. “Just wantin’ to learn is all.”

“Well, I expect it shouldn’t be too hard coughing up another pair of knitting needles.”

Charleigh leaned forward and fingered the ivory-colored yarn. For the first time since Alice came into the room, she gave a genuine smile.

A short knock sounded, and Irma poked her head inside. “Darcy? Sorry to interrupt, but I need to be talking tonight’s menu over with you. What do you think of having baked salmon again, with cooked peas and carrots? I ran out of asparagus, though I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind hearing that piece o’ news.”

“That sounds fine, Irma. I’ll be down to help in a little while.” Darcy still worked as Cook’s assistant; though since she’d taken over Charleigh’s role of running things, Irma now often sought Darcy’s approval on meals.

Once the cook left, Alice showed Charleigh and Darcy how to hold the needles. She pulled a long string of yarn from the skein, preparing to give the first lesson.

Uneven footsteps came along the hallway, followed by a hesitant knock.

“Yes?” Charleigh called.

The glass doorknob turned. “Miss Darcy?” Tommy said through the crack in the door. “Herbert wants to know if you’ll read him another chapter from that island book.”

Darcy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Every day Herbert asked the same thing. “Tell him he’ll have to wait ’til tomorrow. Have ye finished your lessons?”

“Yes’m. I’ll tell Herbert what you said.” The door clicked closed, and awkward shuffling and clomping faded as Tommy limped away.

Darcy grinned. Since the boys had been in competition for the carnival this past week, no one had to push them to study.

“That Herbert is getting downright spoiled,” Alice said to nobody in particular.

Darcy chose not to comment, especially since Alice was right.

“Now, as I was saying, you loop this piece around the tip of the needle, like so—”

A loud rap sounded on the door, shaking the wood in its casing.

Alice heaved a loud sigh. “It’s getting to be about as popular in here as Grand Central!”

“Come in,” Charleigh said, raising her voice.

Chris’s head popped through this time. “Miss Darcy?”

“Yes, Chris, what is it?”

“Mr. Thomas wants to speak with you in the study.”

Darcy rose from the bed. “I better go see what he wants.”

Ignoring the shrewd gleam in Alice’s eyes, Darcy swept past her and downstairs. She found Brent in Stewart’s oak-paneled study. Brent sat in a chair behind the desk where he took care of the bookwork in Stewart’s absence. He toyed with an envelope, staring at it as though his mind were a thousand miles away. His lips were turned down at the corners.

Darcy waited what seemed an interminable amount of time for him to notice her. She cleared her throat loudly.

“Hmmm?” Brent looked up, his eyes vacant. Seeing her on the threshold, he straightened. “Miss Evans—please, come in. Close the door and have a seat.”

Curious, Darcy did as requested, then moved across the faded carpet to the chair across from Brent’s. He regarded her soberly. “I must make a trip into town this weekend. I’ll need you to take care of things in my absence.” He didn’t sound too happy about the prospect.

“Trouble?”

Brent’s gaze shifted back to the envelope. He didn’t answer right away. “My brother. He’s coming to town and wishes to speak with me.”

Darcy nodded as if she understood, though she was confused. Studying his unhappy expression, she ventured, “And is this a bad thing, Guv’ner—him wishin’ to speak with you?”

His gaze again lifted to hers, his expression weary. “With Bill, Miss Evans, it’s always a bad thing.”

Before she could think twice, she was out of her chair and around to his side of the desk. Kneeling in front of him, she put her hand over his in encouragement. “Well, then, Guv’ner, I believe prayer is what’s needed here, instead of you mopin’ about the situation. Don’t you? I’ll pray with ye, if ye’d like.”

Dumbly, he nodded, his eyes wide behind the spectacles. Bowing her head, her hand still cupped over his warm one, she murmured a heartfelt prayer for the brothers’ reunion and God’s leading in it all.

When Darcy finished, she looked up. Brent’s eyes shimmered softly with something akin to amazement. Yet he said nothing. Was he so shocked by her behavior?

Suddenly uneasy, Darcy rose, made an excuse that she needed to help Irma with the meal, and left the room. She supposed she shouldn’t have been so forward. Yet she hoped Brent didn’t mind her praying with him. In fact, she hoped it was only the beginning of such occurrences.

Eight

At half past two, Brent paced the station’s loading area and peered off to the west. No pillar of gray smoke loomed above the trees nor marred the gray-blue sky to announce the train’s arrival. No monstrous roar of clacking wheels shook the rails. No haunting blast of a sirenlike whistle pierced the still air. Again he glanced at his pocket watch. It wasn’t usual for the train to arrive even a few minutes late. Unless it wasn’t the train that was tardy, but his watch that was running slow. He lifted the timepiece to his ear. Not hearing any ticking, he shook it.

“Prompt as usual, little brother.”

Almost dropping the watch, Brent tensed at the jocular words coming from behind him and pivoted to look. Bill stood only feet away, dapper in a silk suit with broad pinstripes. A matching gray felt fedora with a black band topped his hair, which was slicked down and looked a shade darker than its usual wheat blond color. No common bowler for his brother! Even his black Oxfords appeared shiny and new. Obviously life hadn’t treated his brother too harshly, although the lines bracketing his mouth and the faint furrows between his brows testified that this wasn’t entirely the case. Identical in features and coloring, the similarities between the brothers ended there.

“Bill.” Brent nodded curtly, wishing he’d given in to the need to replace his suit coat. He pocketed his watch and cupped a hand over one elbow to hide an offending streak of dried whitewash. Such a gesture was futile when he thought about it. White speckles dotted the entire coat. “Where did you come from? The train hasn’t arrived.”

“I decided to take an earlier one. I came into town yesterday and stayed the night at the hotel.”

“Yesterday? Why didn’t you ring me at the reformatory?”

“Let’s just say I thought the fewer people who knew my whereabouts, the better.” Bill threw him one of his dashing smiles, one that Brent knew the women swooned over. “I decided a discreet and
expeditious
entrance into your small town would be the best plan for all concerned.”

Brent ignored the mocking way Bill stressed the word. His brother always poked fun at Brent’s thirst for knowledge and use of elaborate words. “So, what brings you to our unexciting little town? Are matters getting uncomfortable in the big city? Is the law too close for comfort?”

Bill chuckled. “You know, that’s what I love about you, little brother. You always know how to make a guy feel welcome.”

Brent refrained from answering. The last time Bill sought him out had been for monetary purposes. Judging from his brother’s suave appearance, Brent didn’t think that was the case this time.

The stationmaster ambled out onto the platform and gave them a cursory once-over before peering toward the west, where the faint roar of the oncoming train could now be heard.

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” Bill muttered, cocking the brim of his hat low over his forehead. “I don’t have much time.”

“I have a wagon parked around the side of the building.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. You never were one for progress.”

Brent chose to ignore the barb and moved in the direction of the horse and cart, with Bill following. Once they’d taken their place on the long bench seat, Brent flicked the reins. Polly tossed her dark mane and plodded down the dirt road. Bill grew unusually quiet and stared at the long line of storefronts.

Brent cleared his throat. “Mind telling me where we’re going?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere. Just drive.”

Brent sighed, tamping down his irritation. When they reached the lane leading to the road out of town, Brent took it. Slender trees on both sides of the narrow path formed a brown latticework canopy of bare limbs above their heads. Winter’s bite sharpened the chill air, and Brent was relieved that the contest winners for the carnival would be announced soon. On second thought, a good snowfall might prevent the event from taking place. So perhaps he should pray for snow instead.

It had been alarming to discover that Joel was tied with an intelligent but forgetful boy named Frank as one of the three who would achieve the right to attend the event. A week remained, and a major test involving geography still needed to be taken. Brent had to admit Darcy’s plan was working well—all of the boys exhibited their best behavior. Still, the prospect of taking them to a carnival made him uneasy.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked to see you.” Bill’s voice startled Brent from his reverie.

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Okay, it’s like this—I’ve decided to embark on a seagoing career. Ships are always in need of a few able-bodied sailors, and I’ve applied for the job.”

Brent almost dropped the reins. “You’re making sport of me again, aren’t you?”

“Not this time.”

Brent stared at his impeccably dressed brother, who’d always had a penchant for the finer things in life. He couldn’t imagine this man in a drab, ill-fitting uniform, eating food of non-descriptive taste, while bouncing along five-foot waves. Certainly his brother was joshing him.

“You’re right about there being trouble—only not with the law this time. That I could handle.” Bill released a weary sigh. “Let’s just say it’s no longer safe to be connected with the men of my association, not after what I accidentally stumbled upon. And that’s all I can tell you. It’s for your own good, so don’t look at me that way. I just thought you should know what’s what, in case you don’t hear from me for several years.”

Several years?
“I take it your acquaintances aren’t aware of your plans?”

“I left without saying good-bye, if that’s what you mean.” Bill’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I found it far safer for my continued health.”

Brent mulled over his brother’s words. He knew from previous newspaper accounts that the tough group of men Bill associated with wasn’t above murder. “Do you plan to inform our parents of your decision?” Brent asked quietly.

“I thought I’d leave that up to you. They probably wouldn’t care one way or the other what happens to me and would be relieved to hear they were rid of their black-hearted son.”

Brent drew his brows together. Despite all the trouble Bill had caused, he was still family. As small boys, they had been inseparable. What had happened to change that?

Anxiety blurred Brent’s focus of the surroundings but sharpened his imagination. “What if they discover your whereabouts? What happens then?” He wasn’t sure why he voiced the questions since the answers were obvious, given Bill’s previous statement.

“Let’s just say I’d sink with the anchor—permanently.”

“I don’t find that amusing.”

Bill looked at him, his mouth and eyes wide in feigned surprise. “Do I detect a note of concern, little brother?”

Brent’s lips thinned. “Will you kindly desist with the sarcasm? For once, try to be serious when the situation warrants it.”

Bill released a loud breath, discernible even over the clopping of horse’s hooves on hard-packed soil. “Serious. All right. Frankly, I don’t want to consider the possibility. My odds for staying alive are good, I think. There was another man once—Phil something or other. I can’t remember his last name. He joined up with us years ago, but was only around a short time. . .Rawlins. Yes—Phil Rawlins. That was it. He was great in his line of work—a con man and safecracker—but untrustworthy as they come. When word leaked out that my former associates were planning to do him in, he slipped away and wasn’t heard from again. I can do the same.”

“How do you know they didn’t find him and kill him?”

Bill smiled, though his eyes were deadly serious. “Believe me, Brent. If they’d rubbed him out, it wouldn’t have been kept a secret. Not among those men.”

Brent closed his eyes. “Bill, answer me this. Have you, yourself, ever killed anyone?”

A short silence ensued. “It might be best not to ask questions you really don’t want the answers to, little brother.” This time when Bill spoke, his voice was grave and not in any way amused.