Rumors and Promises (11 page)

“All right then, you may loan them to me, but only until I finish my mittens.” Sophie couldn’t keep herself from smiling. These two were cut from the same cloth. “See you tomorrow, then. Thank you, Maggie.”

“Until tomorrow.” Ian nodded.

Sophie turned and walked out the door of the church, hinges creaking behind her. A gust of wind caused her to shudder. She pulled the shawl tighter and braced herself as she walked into the blustery weather. The walk home didn’t seem as long with gloves to keep her hands warm.

Ian and Maggie had been more than kind.
Ian!
When had she started thinking of him by his given name and not as Reverend McCormick? She had broken every rule she’d set out for herself.

The first rule was to not trust any man, and Sophie had trusted Reverend McCormick to take her home twice. She’d even eaten at his table.

The second rule was to not get physically close to a man or be alone with him. She had been relieved to see that Philip was in the building with them, but she should have taken precautions ahead of time. And how could she work with him on the music without talking to him regularly? Would people understand they were communicating about church music or think her a flirt, spending so much time with the bachelor pastor?

And third, she was never to let herself have feelings toward a man. The first day that he’d taken her to the boardinghouse, his presence had caused a spark of emotion. When he played on the floor with Caira at the parsonage, she felt such deep longing for a father for her child that she had to push out any thought of him being that kind of man.

Perhaps the fact that Reverend McCormick was a minister made him seem safer. The very fact of his vocation made it impossible for him to be anything more than a friend to her and Caira … especially if he knew she was blemished.

Sophie clenched her fists. She would not give in to these childhood fantasies. She must stay away from him at all costs. There had to be a way to come in contact with him as little as possible while still taking the position. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t even take the job he offered.

She marched up the front walk of the boardinghouse. One more gust stung her face before she reached safety inside the front door.

Mrs. Fairgrave paced from the kitchen to the parlor and back again. She frowned and grew pale when she looked upon Sophie. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” The widow wrung her hands and spoke only a bit above a whisper.

“What is it?” Sophie pulled the shawl from her back and hung it on a peg by the door.

“Oh Sophie, I’m so sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” She grasped the older woman’s arm.

Mrs. Fairgrave put her other hand to her cheek. “I-I put Caira down for a nap. Then one of those cursed headaches started to come on.” She rubbed her temple and shook her head.

Fear’s cold tendrils sent a shiver down Sophie’s spine. “Yes?”

“I just mixed up some headache powder and lay down for a bit.” It came out more like a moan. “But when I awoke to check on her, she was gone!”

CHAPTER 6

“W
hat?” Sophie’s mouth dropped open. “Where did you look for her? Caira!” Her feet followed her heart as she ran upstairs to search the room they shared.

“But I’ve looked everywhere I can think of in the house.” Mrs. Fairgrave stayed close behind Sophie, wringing her hands. The older lady’s brow creased.

“Caira!” Sophie didn’t want to frighten her daughter, but she yelled out her name as she ran back down the stairs and searched the kitchen cupboards and anywhere she could think.

“Did you look outside?” She grabbed Mrs. Fairgrave by the shoulders and looked her square in the face.

“Not yet.” Her landlady shook. “I’m so sorry, child.”

Sophie grabbed her shawl from the peg.
What if I can’t find her? Who can help me?

She flew out the back door with her heart thudding like a drum corp. Her glance darted from one side of the yard to another. “Caira! Caira! Where are you?” Clouds hid the winter sun that had peeked out earlier. It hung lower. There couldn’t be more than a couple hours of sunlight left.

The little boy who lived next door looked up from the pile of snow at his feet. Sophie’s footsteps crunched as she walked toward
him. When she could focus on him, she realized he was building a snowman.

“Tommy, have you seen Caira?”

“No, miss.”

“You’re sure?”

Tommy nodded.

Another thought gnawed at her insides. Was Caira’s father following them? Would he take the child? She wouldn’t put it past him to hold her daughter hostage for some financial gain.

And what about the times she thought she’d seen him? Had she imagined such things?

“Did you see anyone you didn’t know come to our front door? A tall man, with a scar on his face.”

The boy shook his head, giving her a measure of relief.

Sophie hugged her arms to herself and paced the side yard. She headed for the front of the house. The quiet street revealed nothing. Where could she go for help? How many people did she know other than Esther? Perhaps Ian. She chewed on her lower lip. After the way she had talked to him when she left, Sophie felt embarrassed. What other choice did she have? He was the only man in town she knew who might care. She ran back toward the front.

Tommy’s mother came out onto her porch. “I heard a commotion. Is everything all right, Miss Biddle?”

“Caira’s gone missing.” Sophie waved both hands.

“How can we help?”

“Do you know where the Reverend McCormick lives? I need someone to get him for me, to tell him Caira’s missing.”

“You heard her, Tommy. You know where the parsonage is. Go get the reverend and be quick about it!”

“Yes, Mama!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Richards.”

“Much obliged. Let us know if we can do anything else and keep us posted.” The boy’s mother nodded before she went back inside her house.

She searched for signs of little footprints in the snow. Seeing none, she became frantic, turning one way and then the other.

Would Caira have even put her shoes on? Or just run outside? She shivered at the thought of those pudgy little feet traipsing through the frigid snow. The door to the storm cellar was still secure, which left the shed to check.

She hurried to the other end of the yard. The door stood slightly ajar. She flung it open. Daylight poured in, and she searched the area. “Caira?” All she could see were overturned pots, rusty tools, and a few small pieces of discarded furniture.

Still, Sophie moved things aside in hopes of finding her daughter, despite the lack of evidence she had wandered outside. “Caira, please be in here,” she whispered to no one but herself.

“Oh Caira, where are you?” She dropped to her knees on the dirt floor in the sanctuary of the shed and buried her face in her hands.

Maybe she wasn’t fit to be a mother. Perhaps that was the real reason Papa and Mama wanted her to give Caira up. Echoes whispered in her mind …
“You have growing up to do … you have no business caring for a child without a husband
.” Though they had said those things, Sophie couldn’t believe their rejection of Caira came from the fear of social stigma or the assault that brought on the pregnancy, as they had claimed. She’d heard the whispered stories of girls like Ariel Carruthers, who’d been sent away for a visit with an aunt in the spring, then returned the following winter with a haunted look in her eyes. All the same, Ariel attended Christmas festivities in the city, but Sophie knew her smiles were forced. How Ariel’s heart must have ached, doing what society expected of her—of them.

She wished her family could be different. The baby had stolen her heart. Why not her parents’? The child’s conception hadn’t been her fault.

“Please, God.” Her breath hitched. “Don’t let anything happen to Caira because of me. Mama was right. She needs a father, too. You’re a Father to the fatherless. Oh please, we need You now!” Alone and shivering in the confines of the dusty shed, she pleaded aloud with Him.

She looked up at the wooden roof. Did a liar’s prayers travel beyond the ceiling? She pressed a fist onto her closed mouth, stifling a sob. Losing her composure would be no help. Sophie could only hope the Good Shepherd was merciful enough to hear prayers said for the protection of little children despite the unsavory lips from which they were uttered.

Sophie pulled herself from the solace of her thoughts and exited the shed. Circling the property again, she called out the little one’s name over and over. She knocked on a couple of neighbors’ doors, but neither one answered. Finally hoarse from calling for her daughter, Sophie walked back toward the boardinghouse.

Sleigh bells sounded down the street. Turning, she spied Ian, Tommy, and Maggie waving from the sleigh. Cold and weary, Sophie waited.

“Sophie! I made my way here as fast as I could!” Getting down from the sleigh, Ian took her by the arms. “Are you all right?”

All she could do was nod.

Ian let go, stepping back, but covered her hands with his and patted them. She felt his strength and gentleness at the same time, his reluctance to release her.

“Caira’s not out here.” She shrugged. Sophie bit her quivering bottom lip, determined not to break down in his presence once again.

“Have you found footprints anywhere?” He still held her hands. She gently pulled them away.

“No, but Mrs. Fairgrave said she looked everywhere in the house.” Sophie furrowed her brow, tense with worry.

“Esther’s probably rather overwhelmed.” Ian turned and headed for the house. “If I know Esther, bless her heart, she may have missed some place. I put the word out to some of the townspeople. Hopefully, they will search the woods before it gets dark, just in case something’s been missed.” Ian nodded toward a row of trees a short distance from the back of the house.

“Oh.” Sophie groaned and hung her head. “I hadn’t thought of that.” At times over the past couple of years, she wished to disappear into a forest where nobody would bother them. But the woods became a tangled cluster of large trees able to swallow her daughter in the gloom of their shadows.
No.
Caira mustn’t have disappeared there.

“We’ll have some folks check.” A frown hooded Ian’s eyes. He placed his hand on her back to urge her toward the house.

Sophie crossed her arms tightly, sidestepping the minister’s touch. Weariness and cold overtook her like she was bearing blocks of ice on her back. She shuddered, wishing she had someone to lean on, maybe even Ian. Where could her child be?

Sophie trudged in through the back door, through the kitchen and into the parlor with Ian at her side.

Maggie, who had hurried into the house ahead of them, rushed to engulf her in her arms. “You poor dear! You must be worried sick about your sister.”

Sophie peered over the other woman’s shoulder. Mr. Graemer looked agitated and leaned on his cane. He hobbled toward them. Not much usually stirred him from his rocking chair. He clasped his Union Army cap in one hand. “What is the trouble here?” he boomed.

Esther Fairgrave put her hands on her hips. “Well, it’s about time you woke up from your nap with all the commotion going on. We can’t find Caira!”

“That sweet little child? Why didn’t you tell me?” He tottered forward a bit. A brass star, clenched by an eagle, dangled from the faded red, white, and blue ribbon pinned to his waistcoat.