Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8) (4 page)

I'm going home. Home. It's been such a long, long time.

During the next few days the whole house was in a tizzy. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had announced her intentions to her household staff, and everyone was busy with preparations for her departure.

Belinda was perhaps the busiest of all. There was the choosing

31

of Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's wardrobe and the packing, the last-minute shopping for small items, the dusting of hat feathers, and the changing of ribbons. Through it all Belinda flitted back and forth with a smile on her face. Soon she, too, would be off on her own journey. "Oh, Ma, I can hardly wait!" she whispered joyfully to herself as she worked.

Windsor entered the sitting room with some garments over his arm. "Madam's cleaning has arrived," he informed Belinda in answer to her unasked question. "I shall take it to her at once."

"I'm going up. I'll take it if you wish," Belinda offered.

Windsor had become accustomed to Belinda lending a hand now and then. But she knew he still had rigid ideas of proper positions and activities for the staff. Belinda was the nurse-companion of his lady. She should not be running errands. But after a pause, he must have decided this was all right and passed the garments to Belinda without argument.

"Thank you, miss," he said stiffly, and Belinda was certain he had concluded it wasn't worth the argument with her. She started off with the clothing, a bit of a smile on her lips.

"Your garments from the cleaners have been returned," she said as she entered the room.

"Oh, good!" exclaimed the woman. "I was beginning to feah that they wouldn't come back in time since they were to have been here yesterday"

"Well, they're here now. Should I hang them in the closet or pack them?" Belinda asked.

"I've left room in that trunk for them," responded Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, pointing, and Belinda felt her eyebrows rise as she moved toward the chest.

My,
she thought to herself,
whatever will she do with all these clothes? And her planning to do more shopping, as well! I expect to be

32

gone the same length of time, and I'm using one suitcase and a hatbox.
Belinda smiled again.

"Do you have you-ah packing done?" Mrs. Stafford-Smyth asked.

Belinda was surprised at the question but shook her head. "It won't take me long," she assured her.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth looked a bit alarmed. "Don't short you-ahself on time," she said anxiously. "The train leaves at ten."

"My train doesn't leave until four," Belinda responded. She had already made the arrangements and purchased her ticket, but at her answer Mrs. Stafford-Smyth stopped midstride, her head quickly coming around to stare at Belinda.

"Whatevah do you mean?" she asked sharply.

Belinda began to flush. It was true she hadn't asked her employer's permission. She had meant to talk to her about it, but they had just been so busy there had never seemed to be time. Surely the woman hadn't expected her to stay and care for the house. There was Windsor and Potter and the maids. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had never before left anyone else to oversee the staff when she had traveled. Belinda had just assumed she would not be needed. But she had been wrong to assume. She should have asked permission before getting her ticket. After all, she was in the employ--

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Stafford-Smyth asked again.

"Oh, Aunt Virgie," began Belinda apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't thinking. I guess I've been in such a dither. I should have asked you. I didn't realize you expected me to stay on here and--"

"Stay on
heah?
Well, of course not. I expect you to accompany me--to New Yawk."

"Accompany you?" echoed Belinda dumbly

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth looked shaken. "Of course."

33

"But . . . but you didn't say . . . say anything about me going with you," Belinda reminded the older woman.

"I didn't?" Mrs. Stafford-Smyth looked bewildered. "Maybe I didn't. I guess . . . I guess I didn't think that it . . . that anything else would be considered. I just expected you to know. Careless of me. Dreadfully careless."

Belinda felt her heart pounding.

"Well, no mattah," went on the woman. "There is still time for you to get ready. I'll call Ella to help you pack," and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth moved toward the bell.

"But . . ." stammered Belinda. "But I've . . . I've made other plans."

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth stopped with her hand on the buzzer. "You. . . you. . . What plans?" she asked simply.

"I've . . . I've purchased a ticket . . . a train ticket for home," Belinda managed.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth lowered herself into a nearby chair. "I see," she said slowly.

Belinda rushed to her and knelt beside her. "I really didn't know you expected me to go with you. I thought . . . I thought it was just you and Aunt Celia. I didn't know there was room for more guests than that. So I decided it was a good time for me to . . . to go home for a visit. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was pale. Her hand trembled as she reached out to smooth back Belinda's wayward curls.

"You'll. . . you won't
stay
home, will you?" she asked shakily.

"Oh no," promised Belinda quickly. "I just plan to be gone for as long as you'll be away"

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth took a deep breath. "My goodness, child," she said with a nervous laugh. "You nigh scared the breath out of me."

34

"You didn't think. . . ?" began Belinda, but she realized that it was exactly what Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had thought. Seeing the color gradually return to the older woman's face, Belinda realized just how much it meant to her to have Belinda's company here in the big, lonely house.

And with that realization Belinda knew she could never, never just walk out and leave the woman all alone. The thought sent a chill through her body. She loved Mrs. Stafford-Smyth dearly. The older woman was like the grandmother she had never had the chance to know. But to stay with her indefinitely at the expense of never being with the family she loved was a terrible commitment. Belinda didn't know if she could bear it, if she could really be that unselfish.

"You poor child," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was crooning softly, her hands again smoothing back Belinda's hair. "How thoughtless I've been. Heah I've sat day after day, not even realizing how lonesome you must be foah those you love. And how lonesome they must be for you! Of course you should go home. I should have thought of it myself. It's a perfect opportunity for you. I'm glad you had sense enough to think of it, even if I didn't."

Her hand stopped, resting on Belinda's head. A shadow passed over her face as she looked into Belinda's blue eyes. "And I will not hold you to that promise," she said gently, though her eyes begged Belinda to return. "You know I love you. You know I want you heah, but I will not ask you for such a promise."

"I'll be back, Aunt Virgie," Belinda said in a whisper, and she leaned forward to kiss the older woman on the cheek.

35

FOUR

Homeward Bound

The whole Marshall Manor household was in a turmoil of activity the next morning. Breakfast in the north parlor was a hurried affair, nervous maids fluttering nearby while Mrs. Stafford-Smyth went down a long, long list of last-minute instructions with Potter and Windsor. Windsor nodded glumly from time to time. It was clear he thought Madame again was giving in to her penchant for foolish gadding about. He did not sanction such travel, and
Remember what happened last time,
his frown seemed to say.

Belinda was up and down the stairs a dozen times, running for this, tucking in that, securing this, dusting off that. At long last the carriage with Mrs. Celia Prescott pulled up at the front of the house and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, bag, and baggage were loaded in for the station.

"My land, girl," exclaimed Mrs. Prescott to Belinda, "where are your hat and gloves?"

"Belinda is not accompanying us," replied Mrs. StaffordSmyth.

"She's not? Well, whatever will you do--?"

"I will manage just fine," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth put in archly. "I haven't totally forgotten how to cayah for myself." "But I thought . . . I just assumed that--"

"Belinda is going to take a trip home to see her family

36

while I am gone," continued Mrs. Stafford-Smyth.

"You'd . . . you'd let her? She might not be back," argued Mrs. Prescott, and Belinda couldn't help but smile at the genuine warning in the woman's voice. There had been a time when Mrs. Prescott had assumed Belinda to be unnecessary and ill-equipped to care for the well-being of her dear friend, Virginia Stafford-Smyth.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth drew Belinda to her and kissed her on the forehead. "That is her decision," she said softly. "She knows how much I would miss her."

Unable to say anything, Belinda felt the tears forming in her eyes.

"Good-bye, my deah," said the older woman. "I shall miss you. Tell your mama for me what a blessed woman she is to have such a daughtah."

Belinda swallowed.

"Now, you have a good time, you heah? Do all those things you've been missing." She kissed Belinda again. "Bye now."

Belinda managed a good-bye and waved as the carriage pulled out into the street and passed out of sight.

She turned and slowly made her way into the big house. She hadn't even started her own packing yet. Still, she would not need to take much with her. There were many things hanging in her closet at the farm. She was sure they were more appropriate for farm life anyway, and she would make do with them.

She was met at the door by Windsor. "Would you like me to summon Ella for you, miss?" he asked Belinda.

Belinda was a bit surprised at his concern.

"I think I can manage fine, thank you," she responded.

"But I know you've been much too busy to take care of your own packing," he continued. "As you have seen, Madam always needs so much done before one of her trips--"

37

"I don't intend to take very much with me," Belinda assured him. She couldn't help but smile at his carefully worded reference to Madam's choice of travel "necessities." "I left some clothing at home in my closet," she explained. "I can use it while I'm there."

Windsor looked surprised, and then Belinda remembered that it had been almost three years since she had been home. A respectable young lady would certainly not return to fashions of three years past. Belinda smiled again.

"Fashions do not change that much--or that quickly--in my hometown," she assured the butler. "I think that along with the few things I take, I'll manage just fine."

"As you wish, miss," he replied courteously, but she could see he was not really convinced.

To Belinda's surprise it did take her nearly till departure time to complete her preparations.
Wouldn't Ma love, to see this pink dress? But then I won't have room for the blue one that matches my eyes,
she debated. Eventually she made all the necessary decisions. The stylish blue hat was carefully tucked in the hatbox along with some extra pairs of white gloves. She took one last look around her room, tidied her dresser and her bathroom, and rang for Windsor.

As the butler left her room with her bag and hatbox, Belinda pinned her traveling hat in place and picked up a light wrap. The day was still pleasantly warm, so she would not put it on just yet. She followed Windsor down the steps, smiled a good-bye to the staff, who had gathered to see her off, and climbed aboard the carriage.

As the team moved down the long, circular lane, Belinda turned for one more look at the big house.
Marshall Manor.
It seemed impossible that she had learned to think of the beautiful place as home.

Then Belinda eagerly turned forward.
No, not home,
she

38

corrected herself. Home was where she was going now. Home was Pa and Ma and Clare and Kate. Home was Arnie and Anne. Home was Luke and Abbie. Home was nieces and nephews who had most likely forgotten who she was and what she had once meant to them.
That
was home. Belinda held her breath in excitement and anticipation. She could hardly wait to get home ... but at the same time she felt a nagging uncertainty.

Will it be the same? Can it possibly be the same? How much has changed? What if . . . what if. . ?
But Belinda finally made herself stop. She would take things one day at a time. For now she would concentrate on her westward journey and seeing again the faces of those she loved.

Belinda was sure the train trip west to her home was taking many times longer than it had taken to travel east to Boston.
At least it sure seems longer,
she told herself. Each stop, each large city and small town they passed meant that much greater excitement and impatience in Belinda. Sitting on the edge of her seat, she strained to see ahead as far as possible and willed the train to move faster.

She was too agitated to pay much attention to her fellow passengers. Usually she liked to watch people around her. She twisted her hands nervously until her gloves were soiled and wrinkled.
I'm glad I brought extra pairs,
she thought distractedly.

Meals were provided with the ticket, but she really did not feel hungry. To help pass some time, though, she did go to the dining car for each mealtime. She even managed a nod and smile when she met an elderly person or a young mother with her children, but certainly not with her usual interest and enthusiasm. Back in her seat, Belinda concentrated on the distant horizon, aching, longing for the train to roll into the familiar .