His For Christmas (9 page)

Mentally,
Elliot
groaned.
Was
she
going
to
suggest
they
buy
something
else?
Perhaps
some
kind
of
ointment
or
splint?

But
that
was
not
to
be
the
case.

“
Don
’
t
you
worry
about
your
merchandise,
”
said
Mrs.
Graham,
an
unusually
grave
look
on
her
face.
“
I
’
ll
have
Henry
and
Albert
deliver
the
goods.
Just
you
take
care
of
that
girl.
”

Abruptly,
she
turned
on
her
heels,
hands
on
her
ample
hips,
eyes
fixed
on
Ms.
Blakely.
“
And
shame
on
you,
Lucinda!
Have
you
no
sense
of
charity?
And
with
Christmas
so
soon!
Why,
what
your
dearly
departed
mother
would
say
if
she
could
see
you
now,
I
’
d
most
certainly
like
to
know.
I
’
m
sure
Margaret
never
raised
you
to
be
such
a
spiteful
girl--
”

Timothy
peered
into
the
girl
’
s
wan
face.
“
She
looks
like
she
’
s
sleeping,
Mr.
Whitley.
”

Elliot
nodded,
hoping
that
was
all
it
was.
Good
god,
he
’
d
dropped
an
entire
bushel
of
potatoes
on
her
head.
If
that
had
caused
her
lasting
harm
…
he
swallowed
a
thin
stream
of
fear
and
let
out
a
small
breath.
“
I
’
m
going
to
take
her
home.
Will
you
go
and
find
Doctor
Warner?
She
might
be
more
hurt
than
we
know.
”

The
little
boy
nodded
once
and
disappeared
into
the
crowd
beginning
to
surround
the
still
yelling
Mrs.
Graham
and
the
now
weeping
Lucy
Blakely.

He
ignored
the
brief
pang
of
guilt
at
causing
such
a
scene
at
Lucy
’
s
expense
and
hurried
through
the
crowd that had
found
something
far
more
interesting
than
the
quiet
solicitor
who
clearly
had
a
soft
heart
for
orphans
and
waifs.

***

Warmth.

Heavens,
how
long
had
it
been
since
she
’
d
been
warm?