Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (14 page)

Simon leaned forward, trying to get through to the girl. “I know, but Mr. Fredrick
is
her brother and her things belong to him now.”

“Even our house?”

“That remains to be seen. But until we can untangle this mess, we'll have to stay put.”

“What about all our things that were sent ahead to Hatcherville?” The girl's expression remained hard. “Does he own those, too?”

“No, of course he doesn't.” Simon glanced around at each child. “Those things belong to you. It's just the ownership of the house and furnishings that we need to straighten out.”

Then he smiled. “The good news is, while we're getting things all worked out, Mrs. Pierce has generously agreed to let us continue to stay right here with her.”

“You mean we get to stay here?” Molly perked up at that.

Apparently the girl had formed an attachment for the place. Simon wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad thing. “For a while. But not forever.” He looked around. “But while we're here, I'm going to enroll you in Turnabout's school so your studies don't suffer.”

“Does that mean we can go to a real school just like the other kids?” Lily seemed excited by the prospect.

Predictably, Fern was not. “Gee-Gee always taught us our lessons at home.”

“And I'm sure she did a fine job.” Simon was careful to keep his tone conversational. “But I know she planned to send you to the town school when we moved to Hatcherville. So I think she would approve of you going to school here.”

“Me, too?” Molly asked.

“No, sweet pea, you and Joey are too young to attend the town school. You'll stay here and keep the grown-ups company.”

“Okay. And Flossie can keep you company, too.”

“When do we start?” Harry asked.

“Tomorrow.”

That got everyone's attention. There were lots of exchanged looks and shifting in seats. “I suggest you each go up to your room and make certain you have presentable clothes.”

“But most of our things were sent ahead to Hatcherville,” Rose said.

“About that. After you kids go off to school in the morning, I'll be heading to Hatcherville to make certain there aren't any important papers amongst Miss Fredrick's things. I'll gather up your belongings while I'm there and bring them back with me.”

“You're leaving us? With her?” Fern's tone made it clear what she thought of
that
idea.

“You are coming back though, aren't you, Uncle Simon?” Audrey's expression looked on the verge of crumbling. Too many people she loved had disappeared from her life lately.

“Of course I'm coming back.” He held his arms out and she rushed forward. “Didn't I promise I would be around whenever you need me?”

Audrey nodded as he settled her on his knee.

“And I always keep my word.” That statement gave him a twinge of guilt. A more honest statement would have been he always
tried
to keep his word. “So you see, I have to come back.” He tapped her nose. “And when I get back I'll have all of your clothes and other things with me.”

“Like my wooden horse?”

“Exactly.”

That seemed to placate her, and he let her slide from his lap and return to her seat next to Albert.

There was an immediate clamor as the children began asking him to make certain he got specific personal items for each of them.

After a moment Simon raised his hands for silence. “I promise I will get everyone's things. But I want to make something clear. I'll only be gone overnight. And while I'm gone, I expect you to treat Mrs. Pierce and Nana Dovie as if they were in charge—because they are. Is that understood?”

There was a chorus of “yes sirs” backed up by various levels of enthusiasm.

Simon stood. “Now, these two ladies and I have some things to talk over before I leave town tomorrow. Why don't you all go out in the backyard for a while? Fern and Russell, you two keep an eye on the younger ones, please.”

Chapter Seventeen

E
ileen had been impressed with the way Mr. Tucker handled delivering the news to the children. He'd managed to inform and reassure them at the same time.

As soon as the children obediently trooped outside, though, he'd excused himself from the room to look for the papers Adam had asked him for, leaving her and Dovie to discuss what was in store for them over the coming days.

“He's a good man.”

Eileen glanced over at Dovie, surprised by the woman's out-of-the-blue statement. “He is.” She was careful to keep all inflection from her voice.

“There's not many as would so easily accept responsibility for ten young'uns that weren't his own.”

Eileen agreed, but rather than saying so this time, she changed the subject. “I hope you don't mind that I told Mr. Tucker the two of us would watch over the children while he's gone.”

“Glad to do it.”

“I think the first thing we need to decide is what is the minimum we need to do to get the eight older children ready for school in the morning. I want to prepare a routine that takes everything into account. It wouldn't do for them to be late on their very first day.” She certainly hoped Dovie was more enlightened than she on that subject.

Dovie smiled, seeming undaunted by the task before them. “There are two main things we need to focus on, and neither one of them is difficult. First is making sure they all get up on time.”

“Of course.” Eileen had actually already thought of that one. “With so many to get ready, I think it best to set up shifts—by bedrooms perhaps.” She raised a brow. “What is the second thing?”

“Getting eight lunches prepared and packed up.” Dovie waved a hand as she continued. “We don't have lunch pails, so we'll need to fix something simple that they can carry in small sacks.”

Meals. Of course. She should have thought of that without having Dovie tell her. Just another indication that she was sadly lacking in motherly instincts.

But she
was
a good planner. “Then we need to come up with eight lunch sacks as well as the meals. I have some fabric scraps we can use, but I'm not sure it will be enough to make all eight.” She didn't relish the idea of cutting up another of her dresses, but if that was—

“I have a few old flour sacks I been saving for next time I got a mind to make a quilt. We can use those, too,” Dovie offered.

“Good. As for what we'll fill them with...” She paused, distracted by Mr. Tucker's return, then turned back to Dovie. “As you said, we should start with something simple but filling.” She mentally went through the items she had on hand. “A boiled egg. Some bread. A chunk of cheese. And I believe we still have a nice-size piece of summer sausage that we can divide up among them.”

Dovie nodded. “And I can make some pecan and molasses cookies tonight that we can add as a special treat.”

Mr. Tucker groaned. “You ladies are making me hungry with all this talk of food.”

Dovie grinned. “Don't you worry, Mr. Tucker. I'll bake a couple of extras so you can take some on the train with you.”

He gave her a boyish grin. “Thank you, ma'am.” Then he sobered. “But I'd take it as a great favor if you'd call me Simon. After all, you insisted I call you Dovie. And it looks like I'm going to be here for a while.”

Dovie blushed like a schoolgirl. “How can I refuse such a request from a handsome young man like yourself?”

“Good.” Then he turned to Eileen. “And I'd like to extend the same offer to you, if it's not too impertinent.”

Eileen froze. The use of first names between an adult man and woman was an intimate thing and not to be taken lightly. Dovie was old enough to be Mr. Tucker's mother so that was a different matter. But for her...

The last thing she needed was to be the subject of more gossip, especially now when she was starting to see signs of acceptance again. She knew from experience that one could only get away with flaunting the conventions when one's place in society was beyond reproach.

His smile faded as he shifted on his feet, and she realized she'd let the silence draw out too long.

“My apologies,” he said with a smile that had a self-conscious edge. “I didn't mean—”

She cut him off before he could withdraw the offer. “Please don't take this the wrong way.”

“No, of course. It was presumptuous of me to ask.”

Feeling she owed him an explanation of sorts, she lifted her chin, trying to say this before her courage failed her. “My standing in the community is not the strongest.” It took every bit of control she had to say that matter-of-factly, as if it was of no consequence. “So I'm sure you understand that I would want to avoid anything that would lead to fresh gossip.”

Then she managed a more genuine smile. “But that said, I would be pleased to take you up on that offer when we are here at home, just among family.”

The flash of surprise in his expression gave way to a look that turned her insides to warm honey. Then he gave a short bow. “I'm honored by your trust.”

She felt a tremendous rush of relief when she realized he wasn't going to press her on her confession or appear to think the less of her for it.

Of course, he didn't know the details, didn't know of her culpability in her husband's death. Would he still be as friendly if he did?

* * *

Simon excused himself a few moments later to deliver his papers to Adam.

As he headed down the sidewalk, he thought about that little speech Eileen had made. She'd delivered it in her best dry-as-a-kiln manner, but he'd sensed that it had cost her dearly, not only in emotion but also in pride. Yet she had done it anyway, and for that he couldn't help but admire her.

Perhaps she was warming to him after all. That thought put a little extra bounce in his step.

He couldn't help but wonder, though, what it was that had ostracized her from her neighbors. He considered asking Adam, but immediately dismissed the notion. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him herself.

Then he grinned, remembering how, when she made that small concession to use first names, if only in a limited capacity, she'd spoken of the house as
their
home, and she'd spoken of the group as
family.
Was that how she'd really come to think of them?

Had she even realized she'd said it?

Not that it mattered, because she
had
said it. Which meant, whether she cared to admit it or not, they were getting through to her.

Perhaps soon the ice queen would be thawed for good.

* * *

As soon as Eileen heard Simon return, she stepped out into the hallway, closing the parlor door behind her. She couldn't tell from his expression how things had gone with Mr. Fredrick, so she asked outright.

He grimaced. “Adam presented the case very convincingly, but Mr. Fredrick didn't take the news well. He intends to get his own solicitor involved and fight our claim.”

Not good news, but not surprising, either.

Simon held his hat in front of him and he fidgeted with the brim as he talked. “He also wasn't happy about me going to Hatcherville tomorrow without either him or his solicitor present. But he agreed that the sooner we settle the matter of whether or not a will actually exists, the better.”

“Does that mean he will accompany you to Hatcherville tomorrow?”

“No. Adam suggested a compromise—that we have the sheriff in Hatcherville accompany me as I go through all of the items. That seemed to appease the man.”

Eileen was surprised that he was taking the implied lack of trust so well. “So what is the next step?”

“Adam will contact the circuit judge to schedule a date for a hearing on the matter. And Mr. Fredrick said his solicitor would be in touch.”

Eileen tried to find a silver lining. “Perhaps, once Mr. Fredrick discusses this with his solicitor and sees what proof you have, he will be more willing to sit down and work out some kind of arrangement with you.”

“Perhaps.” His tone lacked any assurance. “But at least he won't try to sell the property before we settle this matter.” He glanced around. “It's mighty quiet around here. Where is everyone?”

Eileen waved toward the parlor. “Working on lunch sacks for tomorrow.”

He raised a brow. “They know how to make lunch sacks?”

She smiled, trying not to show how smug she felt. “Children can be taught almost anything if it is presented in the right way. Dovie made a simple pattern and the boys are cutting them out and then, once they are sewn together, they work on inserting the tie strings. The girls are embroidering each child's initials on their individual bags.”

Which reminded her of something. “I have a question about the children.”

He gave her a cautious look. “I'll be glad to answer it, if I can.”

“I understand why the older children have different last names—those come from their birth families.” She'd just learned their surnames when she was helping them trace the initials onto the cloth. “But why do Joey and Molly have Darling as their last names, especially if they are not siblings?”

He smiled. “It just so happens I know the answer to this one. Sally was working for Miss Fredrick when both Joey and Molly were left on her doorstep. Joey was first, and Sally said that Miss Fredrick thought long and hard about what name to give him. The first name was easy—her own father's name was Joseph, hence Joey. For the surname, though, that was trickier. She didn't want to give him her own, mainly so it wouldn't make the others feel he was more dear to her. But she did want to give him a special name so that later in life it might in some way ease the sting of knowing he'd been abandoned. She settled on Darling because every time anyone called him by his full name, he would be Joey Darling. When Molly came along, she used the same surname, for the same reason, and also so the two of them might feel the closer connection the other natural-born siblings in the house had.”

“What a very thoughtful thing to have done.”

Eileen's admiration for Miss Fredrick grew another notch. She would like to believe she would have been as thoughtful in selecting a name, but she doubted it. She would have been much more likely to select something practical.

And, sad to say, she wouldn't have been in that position in the first place because she very likely wouldn't have taken in such a foundling herself.

Hearing the children's laughter from the parlor, she felt embarrassed by that self-knowledge. Whose life had been the richer these past ten years—hers or Miss Fredrick's?

She knew what those in the world of her mother would say.

And she also knew they'd be quite wrong.

* * *

Simon wasn't at all surprised when Wednesday morning rolled around and all eight of the school-bound children were lined up at the front door on time to head out. They each held one of the brand-new lunch sacks filled with the items Eileen and Dovie had planned out the evening before.

There was something to be said for Eileen's insistence that schedules and routines be devised and followed. He just wished she wasn't so rigid in
everything.

Dovie stood at the bottom of the stairs with Molly and Joey. Eileen stood at the front of the line and Simon moved in place at the end of the line, nodding at her that he was ready.

As they marched through town, their little parade elicited smiles and greetings from everyone they passed.

When they arrived in the school yard the children were still milling around waiting for the call to go inside.

Fern and Russell declared themselves old enough to fend for themselves, so Simon accompanied Eileen as she escorted the six younger children into Miss Whitman's classroom.

The introductions were quickly made and then it was time for them to leave. Simon could tell Eileen had something on her mind as they made their exit, but he decided to wait her out.

Before she'd made it to the bottom of the schoolhouse steps, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.

“Do you think this is too soon? After the funeral, I mean?”

Simon smiled, pleased to see that she was concerned about their feelings. Had this softer side of her always been there, hidden away inside, or had the children instilled it in her?

“No, I don't.” He placed a hand at her elbow, gently urging her forward. The unexpected warmth that caressed his fingers through her sleeve caught him off guard, but he did his best to ignore it. “In fact, having something new to focus on, and being around other kids their age, will keep them from dwelling too much on what they've lost.”

She nodded. “Of course, you're right. But I wonder, should I check in on them at lunchtime to see how they are faring?”

Now that the steps were behind them, he really should remove his hand from her arm, but she didn't seem to mind...

“I'm sure Miss Whitman and Mr. Parker are both excellent teachers and they'll keep a close eye on the children. You should take advantage of having fewer kids underfoot to relax.” He raised a hand to forestall her comment. “And before you ask, no, you don't need to be here to escort them home after school. They have strict instructions to return to your house as soon as school lets out, and Fern and Russell will see that no one takes a wrong turn. Don't worry, they're reliable.”

He could tell from the momentary flash of sheepishness in her eyes that that was exactly what she'd been about to ask.

Her expression quickly resumed its customary aloof appearance. “Are you packed and ready for your trip?” She was obviously ready to change the subject.

“There's not much to pack—I'll only be gone for one night.”

“The weather has been turning cooler. I hope the children have coats among their belongings that you'll be bringing back.”

“I'm sure they do. St. Louis has colder winters than you do here.”