In the Company of Secrets (26 page)
‘‘I made a few inquiries about Eddie Calhoun. One of the janitors at the train station has seen him hanging around over there on a couple of occasions, but that was several days ago— probably when you last saw him hiding across the street. I may try to locate young Georgie and see if he has any information. I know a couple fellows who work at the paper wheel factory, and they can probably tell me if he’s living here in Pullman or over in Kensington.’’
Olivia didn’t think Georgie would have maintained his friendship with Eddie—not if he wanted to remain employed at the factory. But she remained silent. Better to keep her thoughts to herself or she might discourage Fred from assisting her. Another Eddie Calhoun sighting was the last thing she wanted. The sooner the redheaded miscreant was out of her life, the better. She had enough worries with the approaching gala, Mr. Howard’s proposal, and young Morgan’s care.
Fred lifted the basket a notch. ‘‘You probably don’t need this food today. Mother is planning on your joining us for supper tonight. She said the two of you had never completed an earlier conversation, and she intended to do so tonight.’’
Although she detected the curiosity in his voice, she merely agreed that his mother’s company would provide an enjoyable evening. ‘‘Besides, I thought you and Albert were practicing your baseball or rowing this evening.’’
He laughed heartily, causing tiny lines to crinkle at the corner of his eyes. ‘‘You sound like my mother. She says I’ll never find a wife who’ll be willing to put up with my still wanting to play games like a young boy.’’
‘‘I think most any young woman would gladly accept a marriage proposal from you.’’ A blush stole across her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed by her response. What must he think of a woman who would make such a bold remark?
‘‘I’m flattered by your assessment.’’ Fred tipped his head closer, his lips twitching to force away his natural grin. ‘‘And do you count
yourself
among that number?’’
Without thinking, she joined in his banter. ‘‘I don’t think my heart could withstand two marriage proposals in one day.’’ Her eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip the moment the words escaped her lips. In the pleasure of their repartee, she’d let down her guard and forgotten to mind her tongue.
His brow furrowed.
She forced herself to giggle, relieved when he quickly followed suit.
‘‘So you’re attempting to make me jealous, are you, Miss Olivia Mott?’’
The heaviness slowly lifted from her chest, and she inhaled a shallow breath. Placing her hand on her heart, she feigned mock indignation. ‘‘I would
never
do such a thing.’’
Fred guffawed loudly. ‘‘On first meeting, a person would miss the depth of your humorous nature, Olivia.’’ His blue eyes softened.
A twinge of guilt nagged her conscience.
I didn’t lie! But you
still deceived him
. The argument raged in her mind until they arrived at the DeVault home. Albert greeted them at the front door with Morgan cradled in one arm.
Olivia greeted Albert with a kiss on the cheek. ‘‘Getting in practice for one of your own, I see.’’
He vehemently shook his head. ‘‘No! Marriage maybe, but I haven’t had enough preparation for fatherhood just yet.’’
Olivia removed her bonnet and cape and hung them on one of the hooks in the hallway. ‘‘That’s what all men say, but you appear quite at ease with Morgan.’’
Albert grinned. ‘‘I’m simply helping out where needed. I’m waiting for supper, and Mrs. DeVault can’t tend to the boy and cook, too.’’ Morgan whimpered and Albert bounced his arm. ‘‘You’ve got him spoiled, Livie.’’
She slapped her cousin’s arm. For the first time since Olivia’s arrival, Albert had reverted back to the childhood name she detested. ‘‘Don’t call me that. You know I dislike it. And he’s not spoiled—he’s got a case of the colic. Just ask Mrs. DeVault and she’ll agree. Now out of my way so I can go and assist in the kitchen. I trust the two of you strapping men can handle this teeny baby.’’
Without waiting for a response, she removed the basket from Fred’s hand and marched off toward the kitchen.
Mrs. DeVault’s clear blue eyes sparkled as she greeted Olivia. Her ample figure was wrapped in a cotton apron that covered her plain brown dress. The heat from the stove had turned her cheeks rosy. ‘‘Olivia! I’m pleased to see you, child.’’
She offered the words as though she hadn’t seen her for a month instead of just earlier this morning. The woman certainly had known that she’d be arriving—both to partake of supper and to retrieve Morgan. Her tone exuded a warmth usually reserved for family and close friends. She crooked her finger and Olivia stepped closer.
‘‘I was hoping we would have some time alone to visit. What with Mrs. Hornsby’s unexpected departure and all of the upheaval with the baby, we haven’t had an opportunity to resume our discussion about those Bible verses.’’
‘‘I do have several questions for you, Mrs. DeVault.’’
The older woman beamed and rubbed her palms together. ‘‘Good. I’m pleased to know you followed my advice and read the Scriptures.’’
‘‘Oh yes. I read them that very night.’’ Olivia reached into her reticule and retrieved a scrap of paper. ‘‘I wrote down a few notes.’’
Mrs. DeVault beamed her approval. ‘‘Well, you ask away. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll find someone who does.’’
While Mrs. DeVault removed a beef and potato pie from the oven, Olivia posed her questions, hoping she didn’t sound foolish. But Mrs. DeVault didn’t frown or laugh at her. On the contrary, she appeared pleased by each inquiry.
The older woman wiped her hands across the corner of her apron and sat down next to Olivia. ‘‘Let’s start with your first question. Receiving eternal life is every bit as easy as the Bible says. It’s a gift—pure and simple. But here’s the thing, Olivia. We have the right to accept or reject it. This isn’t something that’s forced upon us. If you believe what the Bible says, you ask for forgiveness and invite Jesus into your heart.’’
‘‘But how do you know if He really forgives you?’’
Mrs. DeVault’s expression became somber. ‘‘That’s called faith, Olivia. And even though He forgives us, we must be prepared to suffer the consequences of our sins.’’
Olivia tilted her head and stared out the kitchen window while considering what the cost of her sins might be. ‘‘What if I sin again?’’ Her voice trembled.
The sparkle returned to Mrs. DeVault’s eyes as she patted Olivia’s hand. ‘‘We’re imperfect creatures, Olivia. But once we accept Jesus, we try to do better by following His Word and listening to the Holy Spirit.’’ The older woman touched her palm to her heart.
‘‘Is that the little voice I keep hearing that tells me I should or shouldn’t do something?’’
‘‘That’s exactly right. We need to do what
God
wants us to do, Olivia, not what other folks tell us. You look to the Bible for your answers, and you’ll not go wrong.’’ Pressing her hands atop the table, Mrs. DeVault stood up. ‘‘I believe that pie’s rested long enough to thicken. Don’t want to leave it too long; the men will complain if it’s cold.’’
Even though Mrs. DeVault seemed to know a lot about the Bible and faith, she obviously thought it important that Olivia search out answers on her own. Likely so she’d become more acquainted with the contents while she looked. Olivia considered the size of the book and its feathery pages. Finding the answers to her questions could take many an hour!
When Olivia had placed the final pieces of silverware on the table and poured steaming coffee into the heavy earthenware cups, Fred walked into the kitchen with Morgan on his shoulder. Mrs. DeVault wagged her head back and forth and pointed him toward the door.
‘‘Put that boy down and let him sleep. You keep carrying him around like that, and he’s going to think that’s the way of things, and I’ll never complete my chores when you’re at work.’’ Her voice was brusque, but her eyes twinkled.
Fred nuzzled the baby’s downy hair and whispered his apologies to the infant as he carried him from the room. ‘‘I won’t tell young Morgan a soft heart lies beneath those gruff words.’’
Mrs. DeVault shooed him from the room without comment, and when he returned a few minutes later, his arms were empty. His mother wasted no time putting him to work. Using thick towels, he lifted the pie from atop the stove, careful to protect his fingers from the edge of the dish.
‘‘In the center of the table?’’ he asked his mother.
She pursed her lips into a tight knot. ‘‘How can you serve if it’s in the middle of the table, Frederick? Put it in front of your plate. You will serve tonight.’’
Olivia moved a step closer. ‘‘Frederick?’’ she whispered.
With a look of disgust, he plopped the hot dish onto the table. ‘‘
Fred
, to you. Only my mother can get away with calling me by my formal name.’’
Mrs. DeVault turned on her heel. ‘‘What? Frederick is an excellent name! You are ashamed of the name your father and I gave you?’’
‘‘No, of course not, Mother. It’s just that I prefer the shortened version. It’s not so . . . stiff and proper sounding.’’
She muttered something under her breath, then asked, ‘‘Where is Albert hiding? Does he think he’s permitted to be late to the table?’’
Albert strode into the room with Martha following close on his heels. He reached around and pulled her forward. ‘‘I hope you won’t mind that I’ve invited Martha to join us, Mrs. DeVault. She stopped by Olivia’s apartment and, not finding her there, decided to see if she was here. I told her we were just sitting down to supper and that—’’
‘‘Oh, stop with your rambling explanation, Albert. You know there’s always plenty for one more.’’ She flapped a linen towel in his direction. ‘‘I’m always pleased for Martha’s company. Olivia, would you set another place, please?’’
Soon they’d all taken their places, and Mrs. DeVault signaled for Fred to offer the blessing. Olivia liked the way Mrs. DeVault had everyone hold hands. It made her feel as though the prayer was from all of them instead of just from Fred.
After the prayer, Albert tucked his napkin into his shirt collar, just as he’d done when a little boy. It hung in front of him like a triangular bib, but Martha seemed not to care a whit. ‘‘Any word from Mrs. Hornsby, Olivia?’’ he asked.
Fred spooned a large serving of the pie onto Albert’s plate. The inviting fragrance of the meat and vegetables drifted toward Olivia as she passed the plate of food to her cousin. ‘‘No, I’ve not yet had any word from Charlotte.’’
Once Fred had finished serving all of them, Martha dipped her fork into the pie. ‘‘I think you should consider finding a more permanent place for the baby. After all, you can’t continue to care for him. He’d be better off with a mother and a father.’’
Olivia’s breath caught. She placed a hand to her bodice. ‘‘He’s not a sack of flour that I can drop on someone’s doorstep.’’
Martha apologized, but her words of regret sounded hollow. Moreover, her eyes betrayed what she truly thought: Olivia should take Morgan to the orphanage in Chicago where they
might
find him a home. Martha sounded just like Chef René .
Olivia knew that placing Morgan in an orphanage wouldn’t guarantee him a nice home with a mother and father. She’d seen some of the orphanages in London where many children remained until they were old enough to be sent into the factories to earn a few quid. For now, at least, it was better if the baby remained with her.
She thrust out her chin. ‘‘I’ll keep him with me for a while longer. Charlotte may yet return. I’ve even considered giving up my position at the hotel if necessary.’’
Martha flashed a pitying look. ‘‘Really, Olivia. Don’t be foolish. How would you support yourself and the child? Wasn’t Mrs. Hornsby paying a portion of your rent? Anyway, if you don’t work for the company, you can’t live in Pullman. I thought it was your dream to be a chef.’’ With a woeful grimace, she wiped the corners of her mouth. ‘‘Do you plan to give up your dream and leave Pullman? How will you survive?’’ She dropped her fork and stared at Olivia, bug-eyed. ‘‘Unless you plan to wed in the near future.’’
Heat traveled up Olivia’s neck and spread across her cheeks as she remembered the conversation with Mr. Howard earlier in the day. Had Martha been listening in the hallway outside Chef René ’s office? Could she have heard Mr. Howard’s proposal?
Fred stared at her, and she longed to escape his questioning eyes. Was he thinking of her comment earlier in the day when she had mentioned a proposal? She could only pray he wouldn’t ask. She didn’t want to lie.
For the fourth time within a two-hour period, Olivia trudged up the long flights of stairs leading to the top floor of the Arcade. Everything appeared to be in readiness. The crystallized flowers added a perfect touch to the simple decorations Chef René had insisted upon. They shimmered in the glow of the copious candelabra strategically situated throughout the lodge rooms on the third floor of the Arcade. On September 24, Mrs. Pullman had sent word of her decision to change the location for her tea. She had suddenly decided she disliked the idea of having her guests divided between the ladies’ reading room and the dining room. With the hotel lobby located directly between the two rooms, she had determined the arrangement would be
unacceptable
. At least that’s the word Chef René had used when he advised Olivia. They’d been left with only a week to make the necessary adjustments, and the logistics were exhausting.
