Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (12 page)

Strange how today he found her reserve and quiet dignity rather soothing. “Do you know Mrs. Leggett?”

“Not well. I understand she grew up here in Turnabout, but moved away when she married her uncle's apprentice. But all of that took place before I moved here. She moved back to Turnabout recently when her husband died.”

He nodded, understanding the woman's need to be around family while she adjusted to the tragedy.

“How soon will you be leaving?” Mrs. Pierce asked a moment later.

Her tone and expression gave nothing away so he couldn't tell what she was feeling. Was she merely curious? Or eager to see the last of them? “As soon after the funeral as possible.”

As he said the words it hit him that in a few days he'd not only be leaving Turnabout, but he'd be leaving
her
and would likely never see her again.

And that bothered him much more than it should have, given the length and nature of their relationship. But she'd somehow insinuated herself into his world, had tickled his curiosity to unlock her secrets. He wanted to figure out why she was the way she was, why preparing for any situation and having rigid routines were so important to her, why she seemed at odds with her neighbors—folks who from all appearances were good-hearted people.

And above all, he wanted to find out how to put a permanent dent in her remote, ice-queen guise.

None of which he could pursue now.

Before either of them could say more, the front gate opened, and Ivy and Mitch stepped onto the walk. He'd forgotten that they'd mentioned coming by to visit Dovie.

As soon as the greetings were exchanged he excused himself to head over to the depot. He felt guilty for leaving Mrs. Pierce to make the explanations and deliver the news without him, but he wasn't in the mood to be around people right now.

Besides, he needed to get the telegram off to Miss Fredrick's brother right away. He supposed, if the man wanted to bury his sister back in St. Louis, it would mean making that return trip himself. Miss Fredrick deserved the escort, even in death, and it was only right for the children to attend the funeral, whether Mr. Fredrick would welcome them there or not.

Would Mrs. Leggett agree to accompany them on that trip, as well? But it was the image of Mrs. Pierce getting on that train with them rather than Mrs. Leggett that flashed through his mind.

And why that had happened was something he didn't want to explore at the moment.

Edgy and restless, Simon decided to take a walk when he left the depot. Hands jammed in his pockets, he wandered through town. Ten kids, and all of them his sole responsibility. This wasn't what he'd signed on for when he agreed to escort them to their new home. He'd asked Miss Fredrick to take Audrey and Albert in because he couldn't handle taking care of
two
kids.

And he'd made those kids promises just now, promises that he had no way of knowing if he could fulfill. What kind of man did that?

He looked up to find himself on the outskirts of town. He hadn't been out this way before. With a shrug, he continued walking, this time paying a little more attention to his surroundings.

He made a mental note of a spot he passed that looked promising for gathering more firewood. A little farther along stood a trio of persimmon trees that were heavy with fruit. He could tell that as soon as they had the first frost here, the fruit would be ready to pick. Maybe they could make an outing of it. He could bring the kids here to help him pick a bucketful or two. It would make for a tasty addition to Mrs. Pierce's pantry.

Then he remembered they wouldn't be here for first frost.

Simon halted abruptly. What was he doing? He should be back at the house before the children came downstairs.

No matter whether he wanted it or not, they were his responsibility, not that of Dovie or Mrs. Pierce.

He did an about-face and marched quickly back in the direction of town.

* * *

Eileen sat in the parlor, adjusting the hem and seams of the skirt from one of her mourning dresses. Providing the children with appropriate mourning clothes for Miss Fredrick's funeral seemed the least she could do.

Her mind, however, was on Mr. Tucker.

Where was he? He'd said he had to send a telegram, but he'd been gone for over an hour now. Ivy and Mitch had already taken their leave. The children had come downstairs a few minutes ago. They were more subdued than normal but that was to be expected. When they'd asked after Mr. Tucker and learned he was out, however, she'd seen several exchanged glances among the older children. It hadn't helped that they'd heard the blast of a train whistle soon after.

Were they worried he'd abandoned them? She was absolutely convinced that Mr. Tucker would never do such a thing, but she was irritated that he wouldn't realize that his disappearance at a time like this would affect the children in that way.

And she intended to tell him so.

Just as soon as he returned.

Chapter Fourteen

A
s it turned out, when Mr. Tucker returned, Eileen didn't have the heart to scold him. Though he wore his usual smile and had the same easy manner with the children, she could see the small lines around his eyes that spoke of worry or weariness, or both.

An hour or so later, Lionel showed up with a telegram for Mr. Tucker.

She watched as he read it. He clenched his jaw as tight as a bully's fist. Then he handed her the telegram without saying a word.

Eileen shifted her gaze from his face to the paper in her hand and read the terse missive.

BEST TO BURY HER THERE. PLEASE SEE TO ARRANGEMENTS.

WILL ARRIVE TUESDAY TO ATTEND FUNERAL.

W. FREDRICK

When she looked up again, he was pacing.

“A surprising decision,” Eileen said carefully, “but I'm sure he has his reasons.” Though she couldn't quite curb her curiosity about what those reasons might be.

His pacing didn't slow. “I'll admit that it does simplify matters for me. But it just seems wrong to make this her last resting place, a town where she has no ties and there will be no one to mourn her.”

“It is her body that is being laid to rest,” Eileen said gently, “not her spirit. Those who loved her don't need a headstone to remember her by.”

He finally stopped pacing and met her gaze. “You're right, of course. And I don't have a right to judge—her brother
does
plan to attend the funeral after all.” His expression eased. “This also means I won't have to put the kids through a return trip to St. Louis.”

He nodded his head as if coming to a decision. “But whatever her brother's plans, I intend to make certain Miss Fredrick has the best funeral service I can arrange.”

She believed him. “Have you ever met Mr. Fredrick?” she asked.

“No. But Sally told me about him in her letters. He apparently didn't approve of his sister taking in all the children. There were some...issues. The two of them had harsh words over it and were barely on speaking terms.”

She wondered what he meant by
issues.
But she respected his reluctance to spread gossip so she let the subject lie.

“That's a shame,” she said instead. “Especially since his sister went to such great lengths to build a family for these children.” Then she had another thought. “Do you think he'll want to take in the children now—he is related to three of the girls, isn't he?”

“I doubt he'll want to take them in.”

That wasn't really an answer. “But if he
does,
will you allow them to be split up that way?”

“I don't know that I could stop it. He is, after all, their closest relative.”

“Oh.”

He must have heard the concern in her voice because he gave her a reassuring smile. “As I said, that's one thing that I
don't
have to worry about—I'm sure he won't want to take them.”

Eileen wasn't entirely reassured but she let the matter drop. After all, the matter was really none of her concern.

So why did she feel so personally touched by their situation?

* * *

Simon received a second telegram from Wilbur Fredrick the next morning. This one asked him to have Miss Fredrick's personal effects gathered up to be given to him when he arrived. He also wanted to make certain the funeral was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, the day he and his wife were due to arrive.

It appeared the man didn't plan to spend more than the one night in Turnabout. Which was fine by Simon. The less the children were exposed to the man, the better.

He spoke to Mrs. Leggett again, and she assured him she was still willing to go with him to Hatcherville to take care of the children.

With Mrs. Pierce's permission, Simon invited her and her daughter over to allow them and the children to get acquainted.

All in all it was a good meeting. Mrs. Leggett was composed but friendly. Her daughter seemed overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the room, but she warmed to the children eventually.

As for his charges, they were polite but wary. While there were no strong bonds forged during the meeting, it was a start.

* * *

Eileen watched the ease with which Mrs. Leggett interacted with the children. It was as if they instinctively recognized her maternal qualities, something Eileen knew she lacked.

She tried to ignore the sharp jab of jealousy that thought produced, especially when Molly introduced Flossie to the woman. She'd thought she had adjusted to the fact that she would never have children of her own, but it seemed she hadn't.

Later, when she was alone, she turned to silent prayer.

Heavenly Father, I know I've been so blessed in my life and that I've done things that have let You down. Help me to focus on the good and not wallow in self-pity when I see others who have the things I want.

“Mrs. Pierce?”

Eileen looked down to see Molly standing there, looking up at her with liquid-filled, pleading eyes.

Alarmed that something might have happened to her, Eileen stooped down and mentally made note of where Simon was in case she needed him. “Yes, sweetheart? What is it?”

The little girl held out her doll and Eileen saw a tiny tear in one of her cloth arms. “Flossie has a boo-boo. Can you fix it for me like Gee-Gee used to?”

Relieved that is wasn't anything more serious, Eileen was nevertheless startled that Molly had come to her for help rather than Dovie or Mrs. Leggett. Then she smiled at the girl. “Poor Flossie. But I think I can fix her up. Do you want to help?”

Molly's expression immediately blossomed into a toothy smile, and she nodded vigorously.

Eileen straightened and held out her hand for the doll. “Then come along. Let's go fetch my sewing basket.”

Rather than handing over the doll, Molly took Eileen's hand herself.

As they left the room, Eileen sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. Never had she had a prayer answered so quickly.

Chapter Fifteen

T
uesday morning, Simon went down to the train station to meet the Fredrickses. Though he'd never met them in person before, he recognized Wilbur Fredrick as soon as the man stepped from the train. There was a surface resemblance to his sister, but where she always wore a smile, this man looked dour. Of course, that could be the way he expressed grief, but there was something about the way the man carried himself that reminded Simon of his uncle Corbitt.

But it wasn't for him, of all people, to judge. He pasted a respectful expression on his face as he stepped up to greet them. “Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick?”

“Yes?”

He held his hand out. “I'm Simon Tucker. I'm sorry for your loss, sir. I admired your sister greatly.”

“Ah, Mr. Tucker, thank you for contacting me.” He gave Simon's hand a quick shake, then dropped it. “Is everything set for the funeral?”

“Yes, sir. Reverend Harper will perform a short service at the cemetery at two o'clock this afternoon.”

“Excellent. Thank you again for attending to those details.” He tugged on the cuff of his jacket. “I suppose there are some bills to be settled.”

“Everything has been taken care of, except for the undertaker.”

Mr. Fredrick nodded without comment, then changed the subject. “If you don't mind directing us to the local hotel, my wife and I would like to rest up from our trip before the funeral.”

“Of course.” Simon had expected him to at least inquire about the children. But perhaps the oversight was just due to travel fatigue and grief over his sister. He reached for the bag the porter deposited beside the couple. “It's just a few blocks. Allow me to escort you there.”

Mr. Fredrick made arrangements to have their other bags delivered to the hotel, and then Simon led the way away from the station. In deference to Mrs. Fredrick, who seemed rather frail, he set a slow pace.

Mr. Fredrick broke the silence first. “May I ask just what your relationship was to my sister?”

“I regret that I didn't know her well. My sister Sally was her housekeeper for a number of years. Sally passed away a few months ago and your sister took in her two children—my niece and nephew—since I was not equipped to do so myself. In return I offered to help her where I could.”

“And you were traveling with them to provide escort?”

“In part. It was also my intention to move to Hatcherville myself so I could be close by, both for the sake of my sister's children and my promise to your sister.”

“I see. I don't understand what Georgina was thinking, embarking on such a trip. That's very likely what did her in. That and the strain of caring for so many cast-off children over the years.”

Simon did his best not to react to that statement. “I know you're tired from your travels and are still in mourning, but I need to ask—do you wish to have any involvement with any of the children who were formerly in your sister's care? I understand the three older girls are relations of yours.”

The man stiffened, as if Simon had insulted him. “
Distant
relations, I assure you.” He gave the ends of his vest a sharp tug. “And no, Mrs. Fredrick and I will
not
be taking them in.”

That resemblance to his uncle seemed even stronger now. “I see.” Obviously this man was nothing like his sister.

Mr. Fredrick cleared his throat. “I'm sure The Kirst Sisters' Orphan Asylum in St. Louis will be happy to take them in. It is one of the charities my wife and I support.”

Not if he could help it. “That won't be necessary. I gave your sister my word that I'd see them safely and comfortably settled into the home in Hatcherville, and I intend to follow through with that. I'm certain I can find a good person willing to serve as caretaker for them.”

Simon saw the couple exchange a look, but neither responded. Instead, Mr. Fredrick changed the subject. “Have you gathered up my sister's things?”

“The things she had with her. But many of her possessions were sent ahead to Hatcherville. I'll have those sent to you as soon as I arrive.”

“Did she have any of her important papers with her?”

“I didn't go through her things. She did mention she had the deed to the property with her, along with her other important documents, but other than that I don't know.”

“And where are her things at the moment?”

“Mrs. Pierce, a widow who lives here in town, has provided lodging for me and the kids. Your sister's things are there, as well.”

“I would appreciate it if you would have it all sent to me at the hotel as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” What exactly was the man expecting to find in his sister's things? Some kind of family heirloom perhaps? But they had arrived at their destination. “Here we are, The Rose Palace Hotel.”

Mr. Fredrick seemed unimpressed with the exterior of the building, but he merely held out his hand to offer Simon a handshake. “Thank you for escorting us. I will see you at the funeral, I presume.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to swing by here on my way so I can show you the way?”

“Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'm sure we can get directions from someone here.”

There was an obvious note of dismissal in the man's tone. Simon took his cue and accepted the handshake with a promise to send over Miss Fredrick's things right away. Then he headed back to Mrs. Pierce's home.

The only word he could come up with to describe Mr. Fredrick was
officious.
He was relieved the man had no intention of getting involved in the children's lives—that wouldn't have gone well at all. He just hoped the man had enough common decency to keep his feelings about the children to himself for the short time he would be in their company.

But he'd given the self-righteous popinjay enough consideration. He needed to turn his thoughts to getting everyone ready to move on to Hatcherville. Mrs. Pierce would be glad to get her home back to herself.

As he turned in the gate he realized he was going to miss this place. In the short time they'd been here it had begun to feel like home.

Truth to tell, he was going to miss the lady of the house even more.

Would she miss him, even if just a little?

* * *

The scene at the graveyard was solemn. Mr. Fredrick and his wife stood apart from the others in town. Mrs. Fredrick was dressed entirely in black, including a black veil that covered her face and a lacy black handkerchief that she occasionally dabbed beneath her veil. Neither made any move to introduce themselves to the children or speak to Simon.

There were a surprisingly large number of townsfolk in attendance. Dr. and Mrs. Pratt, Regina Barr, the Parkers and a number of others he only knew by sight. Even Miss Ortolon, the woman who had seemed so opposed to Mrs. Pierce taking them in that first day, was present.

The children were sober, several of them tearful. Dovie and Eileen had done their best to find appropriate mourning clothes for them. Since Mrs. Pierce was herself a widow, she had a few pieces she'd adapted and Dovie had items, as well. Fern wore a skirt that had been made over to fit her. A black cape was found for both Lily and Rose. Dovie found or made black bonnets for each of the girls. For the boys, they each had a black armband to wear.

Simon felt a touch of pride in them. Though there were more than a few sniffles and tearstained cheeks, the children were, on the whole, well behaved. Mrs. Leggett and her daughter stood with them, and the three adults arranged themselves so that each of the children had an adult close at hand.

Reverend Harper performed the service with as much solemnity and thoughtfulness as if Miss Fredrick had been a longtime member of his congregation. Simon was sure the woman would have been pleased.

Once the service was over and the crowd began to disperse, Mr. Fredrick approached him.

“There is a matter I need to discuss with you.” The man didn't spare so much as a glance for the children.

“Of course.” Had he changed his mind about the children?

“Perhaps you would accompany me and my wife to the hotel.”

Wondering what this was all about, and more than a little concerned that he wouldn't like whatever it was, Simon turned to Mrs. Pierce. “Would you and Mrs. Leggett escort the children back to your home. Perhaps help them gather and pack their things for our departure tomorrow.”

At her nod, he turned back to Mr. Fredrick and indicated the man should lead the way.

They strolled to the hotel without a word. When they arrived, Mrs. Fredrick excused herself and went upstairs to her room. Mr. Fredrick waved toward a pair of chairs in a quiet corner of the lobby.

Impatient to be done with this, Simon leaned forward as soon as he took his seat. “What can I do for you?”

“I've gone through all of my sister's things that you sent over earlier.”

He certainly hadn't wasted any time. Whatever he was looking for must be pretty important.

“It was just as I figured. Unless it is among the things she sent ahead, which I very much doubt, Georgina didn't leave a will.”

Simon held his tongue.
That's
what this was about? His sister's possessions?

“What that means,” the man continued, “is that as her brother, I inherit all of her material possessions.”

Simon hoped the man was not counting on a large inheritance. Miss Fredrick had spent most of her funds on the Hatcherville property. “I believe she had the majority of her funds transferred to the bank in Hatcherville. If you need my help in securing them for you, let me know.” Not having any of Miss Fredrick's funds would make things a little tougher, but Simon wasn't particularly worried—he'd find a way to make it work.

The man dismissed Simon's offer with a wave of his hand. “I have a solicitor to handle those sorts of matters. What I wanted to make certain you understood is that the Hatcherville property now belongs to me.”

Simon straightened. That was definitely something he hadn't considered. “Does that mean you'll be requiring rent money when we move in?”

“Actually, I plan to sell the property.”

“Sell it?” Simon's heart sank further. Having negotiated Miss Fredrick's purchase of that same property a few short weeks ago he knew there was no way he could afford to buy it himself. “But where will the children go?”

“As I said, the good people at The Kirst Sisters' Orphan Asylum will be happy to take them in. In fact I've already discussed the matter with the Misses Kirst personally and they have said as much.”

So the man had been planning this from the outset. “Surely you know this isn't what your sister would want.”

The man drew himself up. “Mr. Tucker, as you've said yourself, you only knew my sister for a short time. And even if what you said was true, Georgina often let her soft heart get in the way of common sense. A failing we did not share.” Mr. Fredrick tugged on his lapels and stood. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to check on my wife. We'll be departing on tomorrow's train. Good day to you.”

Simon watched him leave, his mind reeling from this new setback. Without the house in Hatcherville, he had nowhere to take the children. And sending them to that orphanage Mr. Fredrick was so fond of was completely unacceptable. What now?

* * *

Eileen was working in the front flower bed when Mr. Tucker returned to the house. Truth to tell, that had just been an excuse to keep a watch out for his return. And she was glad she had. One look at his face told her something was terribly wrong.

“What's happened?”

He raked a hand through his hair, not answering her.

She needed to pull him aside before the children saw him. She waved toward the bench. “Let's sit here a minute, shall we?”

With a nod, Simon followed her up the porch steps.

She took a seat on the bench, folding her hands in her lap, but he remained standing. “Now, what happened?”

“Mr. Fredrick is claiming that, as his sister's heir, he has ownership of her property, including the Hatcherville house.”

“I see.” That certainly explained his agitation. “I assume he's refusing to let the children live there.”

“He plans to sell the place.” Simon waved a hand indignantly. “As for the children, it seems he's already talked to the owner of an orphan asylum about taking them in.”

Eileen stiffened. The idea of Molly—or any of the children—relegated to a group home was unthinkable. “But that goes against everything his sister stood for.”

“I agree. But that doesn't seem to bother the man.” He paced the porch like a caged animal. “He believes his sister's mission was beneath her, and he has no intention of sullying his own hands with it.”

“Beneath her? What could possibly make him think the care of children was beneath her? Is it because they are orphans?”

Simon shifted uncomfortably, then gave her a searching look. “I'm going to trust you with some information. But I need your word that you will treat it as confidential.”

Eileen's throat tightened. From the look on his face, she wasn't certain she wanted to hear this. But she was oddly touched that he felt he could trust her. “You have my word.”

“These children aren't just orphans—they are social outcasts.”

“Outcasts?” She understood why that had happened to her, but— “They're only children. What could they have—”

“Not because of anything they've done,” he said quickly, “but because of who their parents are.”

Eileen sat back.
This
she understood.

“Fern, Rose and Lily's father died in prison. Their mother insisted he was falsely accused, but that didn't erase the stigma.”

Eileen thought of Fern's attitude, and felt she understood the girl a little better now.

“Russell, Harry and Tessa's father turned to drink after their mother died. He got killed in a bar fight.” He raked a hand through his hair. “As for Molly and Joey...”