Michelle: Bride of Mississippi (American Mail-Order Bride 20) (9 page)

A
nthony leaned
on the mantle of the fireplace, his head on his arm. He’d tried for hours to sleep but hadn’t been able to, his thoughts rushing through his head. He’d finally decided to get up, walking back down stairs and sitting next to the nearly gone fire.

How had things gone so wrong? The girls had been with him for almost six months, and he thought they’d done a pretty good job of it, learning about each other and trying to move on from the death of their parents.

He’d dreaded this conversation, and his heart felt like a stone as he’d not been looking forward to telling the girls that they wouldn’t be able to keep their mother’s tradition of giving toys to the needy children of Corinth. And Michelle--giving away so much money. He hadn’t thought to ask her about what he’d sent. He assumed that she’d spent it all on clothes, which had been very important to him.

He groaned as he pushed himself up from the mantle and sat in the wing-backed chair next to it. Yes, that money could have bought toys for the tradition, but he supposed that the young lady needed it more, really. Food trumped toys, but he still couldn’t imagine how he’d tell the girls that they wouldn’t be giving things away this year.

He steepled his fingers and stared at the fire as he remembered the very first time Adelaide had convinced his parents that what she really wanted for Christmas was to bring joy to the other children in their town. He chuckled as he remembered his response.

“Speak for yourself, Adelaide. I don’t think I want to give up my Christmas. I want things, too.”

In his mind’s eye, he could still see the look of amusement on his sister’s face as she threw her braids behind her and placed her hands on her hips.

“Anthony Chandler, that’s very funny.”

“I’m not joking,” he’d said, and she’d squinted at him, her arms folded over her chest.

“Do you mean to tell me that that you don’t want to share?” She gestured at their big house, the bare tree branches blowing in the breeze. “You know there are children who have nothing. And we have everything.”

He’d frowned and sat down in the grass, thinking of the children who’d come to Corinth right after the Civil War and still lived nearby in very, very small shacks. He’d visited with his mother and sister, taking food, clothing and anything else they’d collected as donations at the shop in town.

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Adelaide sat down beside him and placed her hand on his arm. “Anthony, we are so fortunate. Others are not so lucky, and it’s our duty to share what we have. Even if we don’t get anything ourselves for Christmas, think of the joy of the other children who will.”

And that had been the beginning of the tradition. He chuckled as he realized that he and Adelaide had been about the same age as the twins when they’d started, and they hadn’t missed a year, ever.

Except this year.

His head fell into his hands. He’d sold everything that he could without cutting into the last of his mother’s heirlooms, things he’d wanted to save for the girls.

He’d just have to tell them that it wasn’t possible this year. That--what would he tell them? He still held out hope that Mr. Banks would come through and buy the inventory in the store. It was worth quite a bit of money--unfortunately, the people of Corinth weren’t buying. He’d thought of taking it all to New York or Chicago on his own to find a buyer, but when the girls came that became impossible.

He stood and paced in front of the embers, his hands behind his back.

“Mr. Anthony, I know how you’re feeling,” Mable said as she walked quietly in from the kitchen, taking a glance up the staircase. “I know Mrs. Michelle and the twins would give just about anything to keep up Adelaide’s tradition.”

He shook his head slowly and stopped, gazing into the fire. “Mable, I don’t know how. You know I’ve sold everything I can. There’s just nothing left.”

“I’ve got a few more things down in the cellar we could sell. If there are any takers.”

He stiffened and frowned, turning to Mable. “Those things were Mama’s favorites. I can’t--I won’t...”

“I just don’t see any other way, Mr. Anthony.”

He turned to Mable, his eyes misting. “I can’t, Mable. It won’t help, anyway. This will just have to be the year that the tradition ends.”

M
ichelle lay
in her warm bed as the frost in the room bit at her nose, thinking about what Anthony had said last night. Was he really unwilling to carry on the tradition? How could he be so unkind?

She gazed up at the chandelier over her head, and what looked like a crystal bowl on the table beside her bed. Certainly someone with so much money would be eager to help others in need.

She threw the covers back and sat up, walking as quickly as she could to her wardrobe. Pulling out what she thought would be her warmest dress, she dressed as quickly as she could.

As she sat at the vanity and began to brush her hair, she paused for a moment, looking down at her dress. Maybe Anthony had wanted her to have nice dresses because he had been worried that she might turn up and embarrass him. He did seem concerned about his social standing in town.

He was awfully upset that she’d given the rest of the money to the young lady. And she’d had children! How could he not want her to have food?

She squinted at herself in the mirror as she remembered their quick wedding and their supper afterward--at the drugstore. He’d passed right by the fancy restaurant where his friends were and they’d had their wedding supper at the drugstore.

Apparently, he wasn’t the man she thought he was after all. Her mother’s years of darning and taking repaired clothes to the needy flashed through her memory, and her heart sank. She’d thought that she’d died and gone to heaven, married to a handsome man who made her blood thrum in her veins. She lived in a beautiful house, wore lovely clothes and had charming children to help raise.

But it was all empty if it was with a man with a cold heart. She’d hoped maybe they could learn to love each other, and have a real family and a wonderful life. But she knew that she could never love a man who turned his back on others in need. It just wasn’t possible.

She sighed as she went out into the hall, hoping that Anthony had already left for work. She wasn’t sure what she could--or should--say to him, and preferred that they just kept their distance now that she knew the truth.

“Pssst.”

She jumped as she heard a little voice behind her. She turned to see Mattie peeking out the door of the girl’s bedroom, crooking her finger.

She smiled, grateful for a reason to stop thinking about Anthony as she walked down the hallway and into the girls’ room.

Michelle had slipped Mrs. Clementine into Missy’s arms before she’d gone to her room, and now Missy beamed with delight as she held her up.

“You made her beautiful again, Michelle. Thank you.” She ran over and threw her arms around Michelle.

“You’re very welcome,” Michelle said. “I just wish I had more things to fix and maybe we could help the other children.”

Mattie’s eyes sparkled. “Uncle Anthony came in before he left and told us that we couldn’t do it this year.”

“Yes, but look what we have,” Missy said with a triumphant smile. Mattie lifted open the lid of a steamer trunk, and Michelle clapped her hand over her mouth at the sight of dozens and dozens of dolls and stuffed animals, the trunk full almost to overflowing. “We’d been saving all year before Mama and Papa died, and some of them just need to be fixed. And you know how to fix them.”

She reached into the trunk and pulled out a stuffed monkey, its button eye hanging by a thread.

“How--does Anthony--” she stammered. Had the girls kept this treasure chest secret?

“We didn’t tell anybody. We just said it was a special trunk and we’d open it later. And now Christmas is almost here, so it’s time now,” Missy said as she climbed up on the bed and sat.

Michelle sat down slowly on the chair beside the bed. “But your uncle said we wouldn’t be able to do your mother’s tradition this year. He was adamant.”

Missy smiled and shook her head slowly. “He doesn’t understand how important it is, and he didn’t know we had lots of toys already. He won’t mind.”

Michelle raised her eyebrows, not certain at all that he wouldn’t mind, but her heart tugged at the thought of the young lady’s boys. The toddler would surely love the monkey she held in her hand.

Her heart lifted and she knew she had to help somehow. “You girls learned to sew and are very good at it. Do you think if we hurried, we could get these all ship-shape in time to give away Christmas eve?”

The girls’ eyes lit up and they exchanged glances. “We were hoping you’d say that.”

M
ichelle
and the girls had been sewing every day, non-stop, and had finally gotten to the bottom of the steamer trunk. They’d taken it downstairs and, with Mable’s help and broad smile, they’d placed it in a corner of the parlor, out of the way so Anthony wouldn’t see it.

They’d spent over a week taking one toy out at a time and sewing the buttons on the eyes of stuffed animals and tears in dolls’ dresses, talking about everything under the sun as they passed the time.

Michelle had gotten to know the girls quite well in the past week and she was incredibly touched by their commitment to helping others, marveling at such big hearts in girls so young. Adelaide must have been quite a woman to have raised girls with such loving generosity.

Over the course of the week, she’d also wondered how Anthony’s heart had become so cold. In a family like theirs, with a twin sister like Adelaide, they must have been like oil and water, and she sighed, sorry that he hadn’t been a kinder soul, like them. Then, maybe they would have had a chance to be a real family.

She shook her head as she reached for her coat, knowing that that could never happen now. Her scarf wrapped around her neck, she called for the girls, hoping they were ready to walk to the park. She peered out the window as she waited, glad for the sunny day after almost a week of cold and stormy weather.

“We’re ready,” Mattie said as she raced from the kitchen, her scarf wrapped around her and her mittens already on.

Missy followed close behind, buttoning her coat. “I’m glad we get to go outside today. We’ve been inside for so long that it’ll be fun to go out.”

They cheerfully walked the short distance, keeping their pace brisk as even though it was sunny, it was definitely chilly. When they got to the park, they walked around it, the wind rustling the bare branches of the trees.

“Let’s go see Uncle Anthony,” Missy said as they neared the end of the park and the drug store where she and Anthony had had their sodas on their wedding day.

Michelle’s heart flipped. She’d been successfully avoiding talking to Anthony for some time now, and he seemed so preoccupied that she doubted he’d even noticed that she’d not said much. He certainly hadn’t sought her out.

She couldn’t resist the girls’ pleading eyes. She didn’t want to do anything that would keep them from their Uncle. They loved him very much, and while she couldn’t respect his lack of charity, she wouldn’t keep them apart.

Sighing, she said, “All right. We can pop in for a minute,” and she took each girls’ hand and crossed the street.

“Oh, aren’t you Mrs. Chandler,” a female voice said from behind her just as they’d passed the restaurant.

She turned, and looked into the smirk of the lady she’d met in the drugstore on her wedding day.

“Michelle, can we go into the drugstore and wait for you? We like to look at the candy in the big jars,” Missy said as Michelle stopped.

“That’s fine. But I don’t have any money to give you to buy anything,” she said as she patted the girls on the head, smiling as they ran off.

She turned back to the woman, startled to see her smug expression. “Of course you don’t have any money.”

Michelle frowned and she shoved her hands in her pockets. “No, we left quickly and I didn’t ask for any.”

The girl threw her head back and laughed, and Michelle thought it sounded more like fingernails scratching one of the girls’ primer chalkboards.

“Of course, you wouldn’t have gotten any had you asked,” she said, her smug smile returning as she raised her eyebrows and stared at Michelle. “I’m so relieved that I didn’t marry him when I had the chance.”

It was Michelle’s turn to raise her eyebrows. Anthony had never told her that he had courted Miss Davis, but she was curious why she was glad she hadn’t chosen him.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” she asked as she looked behind her toward the drug store. She really should get in there with the girls.

“Darling,” Miss Davis said condescendingly as she placed her hand on Michelle’s shoulder. “You don’t know, do you?”

Michelle stiffened and took a step backward. There was something about this woman that she didn’t like, and she was starting to believe that she wasn’t a true friend to Anthony, either.

Miss Davis leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “He’s flat broke. Doesn’t have a dime, and is about to lose his store, too.”

Michelle’s head spun. “I...I...”

Miss Davis laughed and patted her shoulder before she turned. “Maybe you should get out while you still have a chance,” she said over her shoulder. “Oh, you can’t. You’re already married.”

Michelle stood frozen in place while the woman flounced away, laughing to herself. She blinked as she disappeared around the corner, and turned toward the drug store. She looked in the window and saw the girls chatting happily with the man behind the counter.

She leaned her head against the cool glass and sighed. Could this be true? It didn’t seem possible--the beautiful, big house, the lovely china, the silver tea service. How could one have so much and be broke?

“We saw you through the window. Are you all right? You look pale,” Mattie said as she frowned at Michelle.

Michelle tightened her scarf and took a deep breath. She looked down the street toward Anthony’s shop. Whatever the situation was, she didn’t want the children to be involved.

She crouched down in front of them. “I’m fine, just a little cold. Would you mind if we headed home? Rather than visit your uncle?”

Pleased when the girls nodded and took her hands to cross the street, she breathed deeply. She needed time to think before she talked to her husband.