Love Inspired Historical November 2014 Page 23

  “I took your beautiful shawl.”

  “I know.”

  “And I ruined it.”

  “I doubt that it’s ruined,” Eileen said calmly.

  Fern carefully unfolded the fabric and showed Eileen the rip. “See.”

  “Rips can be mended.”

  “But it will never look the same.”

  “No, I don’t suppose it will.”

  “Aren’t you even the least bit angry with me?”

  “Not at all. In fact, if you don’t mind, I don’t know why I should.”

  The girl looked thoroughly confused. “What do you mean? Why should I mind?”

  “I hate to spoil the surprise, but I pulled your name from the hat for Christmas. This was going to be your present.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No. I mean—”

  Eileen turned the shawl and held up a corner. “Look here, right in the very corner.”

  Fern studied the place Eileen indicated. Embroidered there in Eileen’s most elegant script, were the words To Fern from Eileen.

  Fern looked from the shawl to Eileen, her expression one of confusion. “But this is so beautiful. And it is special to you. Why would you give it to me? Especially after I’ve been so mean.”

  “Because it was something you wanted much more than I did. And because I know you’ve only been pushing me away because you’re afraid I’ll hurt you like others have.” She stroked the girl’s hair. “But I won’t Fern. I promise, nothing you do can make me not like you. Anyway, you didn’t ruin anything of mine. You tore a shawl that was your very own.”

  “But when I took it, I didn’t know it was going to be mine.”

  “True, and that was wrong of you.”

  “It makes me a thief.” Fern’s tone was full of self-loathing.

  Eileen winced, suddenly realizing what this was really about. “Perhaps. But a penitent one.”

  “A thief is a thief.”

  “Fern, look at me. You are not like your father.”

  The girl’s head shot up in surprise. “You know about my father?”

  “Yes, I’ve known for a while now.”

  “But, doesn’t that make me riffraff?”

  “Don’t you dare ever say such a thing again. What your father did or didn’t do doesn’t dictate the kind of person you are. You are responsible for your own actions only, not the actions of your parents.”

  “But those women who visited Miss Fredrick, they quoted the Bible, saying something about the sins of the fathers being visited on their children. Doesn’t that mean God is going to punish me for what my father did?”

  Eileen chose her words very carefully. “First of all, the Bible also tells us not to judge others, so those women should have kept their noses out of your business unless they had something charitable to offer. And second of all, I don’t claim to understand all of God’s ways, but I think those verses the women were referring to have more to do with the consequences of a man’s sin on his family’s happiness than with how God views that man’s children.”

  She smiled at the girl, trying to let her see the sincerity of her words. “God loves you very much and so do I. I don’t want to hear any more talk of you being anything less than a beautiful child of God.”

  “Oh.” She looked at Eileen, hope stirring in her eyes. “I’m sorry I treated you so mean before.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  She heard the sudden ringing of the church bells. Ivy had gotten the word out.

  “But for right now, why don’t we go downstairs and let all those very worried people see that you’re all right. We can work out our apologies later.”

  With a nod, Fern got shakily to her feet. “Do you think Uncle Simon’s going to be mad at me?”

  Eileen smiled. “Very likely. But he’s also going to be very, very glad to see that you’re all safe and sound.”

  It just might take him a few minutes to remember that part.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  As predicted, Simon was by turns angry and relieved at Fern’s safe return to the family. The girl’s punishment for her actions was an extra load of chores and having to make an in-person apology to every man who’d given up his time to help in the search for her.

  But Fern wasn’t the only one who’d learned some hard lessons up in that turret room. Eileen had had some difficult truths driven home to her, as well. She’d tossed and turned all of Saturday night and had taken a long walk on Sunday afternoon to try to sort things out in her mind. But now she thought she had the straight of it.

  And she knew what she had to do.

  She only hoped she hadn’t waited too long to see what had been right in front of her all along.

  After the children had gone to bed, she stepped out on the porch and marched right up to Simon.

  “Don’t buy the Stringman place.”

  He looked understandably startled. “I beg your pardon.”

  “Don’t make an offer on that house. I want the children to stay right here with me.”

  “With you?”

  “Yes. I love them. All ten of them. I can’t imagine my life without them in it now.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t just some kind of reaction to the scare we had yesterday?”

  “Absolutely, positively. I wanted them before Fern disappeared. I just didn’t know it.”

  “You didn’t—” He took a deep breath. “Do you know what you’d be letting yourself in for?”

  “Not everything.” She grinned at his confused expression. “I’m sure there’ll be surprises every day. Things I hadn’t planned for. Emergencies that will turn all my routines upside down. But I’m not afraid of that anymore. In fact, it’s what I want in my life.”

  “Are you sure? Absolutely sure? Because these are the children’s lives we’re talking about. You can’t say you’ll do this and then renege in two months or a year. That would be unbelievably cruel.”

  “I’d never even consider doing that to them. And yes, I’m sure. And you can find yourself a place close by, so you can be near them to keep a close eye, just like you always planned.”

  He leaned back and studied her. “Something’s changed. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re not the same person you were before.”

  She smiled, happy he’d realized that. Because that would make this next part a whole lot easier. “I have changed. And it’s because of something I realized when I was talking to Fern yesterday.”

  “And what was that?”

  She took a deep breath. “First, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “What kind of something?”

  She supposed she couldn’t blame him for being suspicious.

  “Things about me, about how I am, and more importantly, why I am that way.”

  His expression flattened. “Eileen, we’ve been through—”

  “No. Please hear me out. This is different. This is something I just learned about myself.” If she had to get on her knees and beg him to listen, she would. It might be too late, but if she had to lose him she couldn’t let it be because she didn’t tell him this.

  He was silent for a long, nerve-racking moment. But finally he scrubbed his hand across his face and gave her a weary nod. “Say your piece.”

  “My mother came from a very prominent, old money family,” she said without further preamble. “When she was just eighteen she met a young man and fell in love with him. This young man, however, wasn’t from her same social circle. He wasn’t poor, but he came from a family of merchants. This didn’t matter to my mother at the time. Despite my grandfather’s threats to disown her, she had romantic notions and thought love would conquer all. And truth to tell I don’t think she thought her father would follow through on his threats.

  “So she married Arnold Beamus and moved into a comfortable home in a vastly different part of town from the area she’d grown up in.
Not only did her father cut her off, but it turns out her in-laws weren’t very happy with the match their son had made either, thinking she was too snobbish. She lost most of the friends she had in her old circle and had trouble making any new ones in her husband’s circle. This made her very unhappy and bitter.”

  Simon was watching her with more interest now, and her hopes fluttered to life.

  “What I remember most from those early years was how very loved I felt by my father and how very unhappy my mother was. Poppa passed away when I was five, and I missed him terribly. But my mother moved back in with her parents and seemed to want nothing more than to wipe his memory from her life. I was sent to boarding school, and eventually Mother remarried, to a man who was part of that social circle she had missed so very, very much.”

  She chose her next words carefully, not wanting to sound maudlin. “My stepfather didn’t care for me much. On one of the rare occasions when I was home, I heard him tell my mother that breeding would out. Mother kept telling me how lucky I was to be so pretty, that it was my one saving grace. She said if I tried very hard to be just as perfect as I could, that I might make a successful match.”

  She saw the muscle in his jaw jump and wondered what he was thinking.

  “Mother also told me that love was never a reason to marry—that all it had ever brought her was disappointment.”

  She definitely had Simon’s attention now. “My dowry was not large. All the money my father had left me had been spent on those awful boarding schools I was relegated to. So I did my best to do as Mother said, to play up my looks, to make certain I was as close to perfect in every social grace I could manage, and to never, ever let myself fall in love.”

  She stared directly into his gaze, hoping he could read what she was feeling. “Until you kissed me.”

  There were tears inside her screaming to get out, but she ruthlessly held them back, not wanting to have him merely feel sympathy for her. She wanted so much more from him. “I’ve believed most of my life that, though I loved my father deeply, because of who he was, it made me unlovable. That my worth was based solely on outward things rather than on who I am inside.”

  She felt her smile waver. “And the strange thing is I didn’t even realize it until I heard Fern confess those very same thoughts about herself.”

  Eileen took a deep breath, ready to get through this, wondering if she was making a difference in how he felt about her. “I’m sorry, Simon. I guess what I wanted to say to you is that I’m this terribly confused and mixed-up person, but I want to change. I want to be the kind of woman who can trust in the power of love. Because I do love you. And when I realized it, it scared me so badly I pushed you away. And it still scares me.”

  She had to fist her hands to keep from touching him. “But I no longer want to push you away.”

  She was done. She stood there, waiting for whatever he would do or say next.

  And she didn’t have long to wait.

  Simon stood abruptly, nearly toppling his chair. He closed the gap between them, put a hand on either side of her face and proceeded to kiss her quite thoroughly.

  *

  Some time later, Simon released her lips, but not his hold on her. There was quite a bit of what she’d just told him that he hadn’t grasped entirely yet, but that could wait for later. All that mattered right now was that she’d said she loved him.

  He brushed the hair from her face, entranced by the shimmery quality of her eyes. “And you don’t mind that I enjoy working with my hands and will probably make my living that way for as long as I’m able.”

  She turned her head to kiss the palm of his right hand. “I love these hands,” she said. “I love every scar and every callus. Because these hands make you the man you are, the man I love.”

  He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing her say she loved him. “In that case, Eileen, will you do me the very great honor of consenting to marry me?”

  With a blush that he found altogether irresistible, she gave him a resounding “yes,” which he followed up with another kiss.

  Epilogue

  “Aunt Eileen, come onnnn.” Molly had her hands on her hips in a pose that would have made the strictest of schoolmarms proud. “Everyone’s waiting.”

  Eileen laughed. But then she seemed to be doing a lot of that these days. And why wouldn’t she? There were so many things bringing joy into her life.

  She loved that it was Christmas morning and the house was filled with children. She loved that the children now called her Aunt Eileen. She loved that she and Fern had grown so much closer.

  But most of all, she loved that six days ago she had become Mrs. Simon Tucker.

  “I’m coming, sweetheart. I just need to get the last cookie on this platter.”

  “But it’s taking forever.”

  Eileen hid her smile this time. She supposed when a group of eager children was gathered in front of the Christmas tree ready to open gifts, a few minutes did seem like forever.

  “There.” She lifted the platter with both hands and spun around. “Lead the way.”

  Molly did an immediate about-face and trotted from the room. As they proceeded she turned back occasionally as if checking that Eileen was keeping up. They crossed the parlor, and Eileen reflected that they’d have to rename the secret room. The recessed door was rarely closed these days, and it had become the favorite place for the family to gather.

  Family. Another word that made her smile.

  “Here she is,” Molly announced as they stepped through the door. “At last,” she added melodramatically.

  “And well worth waiting for.” Simon stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. Then whispered in her ear. “Have I told you lately how much I love you, Mrs. Tucker?”

  Eileen felt the warm tingle of those words all the way down to her toes. “I don’t mind hearing it again,” she said archly.

  “Can we start now?”

  At Joey’s question, Simon let out an amused huff in her ear, then stepped back and relieved her of the platter. The look he gave her promised they would continue the discussion later.

  “Since you’ve all been so patient,” he said as he escorted her to one of the new benches he’d installed in the room, “I suppose we’re ready.”

  Fern scooted over to allow Eileen to sit between herself and Molly. It gave her a good view of the large tree Simon and the children had selected two days ago. The homemade decorations were scattered on it with gloriously imperfect abandon, and she decided she’d never seen a lovelier tree.

  Near the top of the tree Simon had placed Miss Fredrick’s hat. Gee-Gee was a part of these children’s lives, and it was only right that her spirit should be represented in their celebration.

  While they waited for Simon to retrieve his Bible from the mantel, she allowed the excited chatter in the room to wash over her. Even Buddy, who had somehow become an indoor dog when she wasn’t looking, was adding an occasional yip to the babble.

  Simon moved to stand in the front, between them and the tree, then opened the Bible to the Christmas story. Everyone quieted as he began to read. She listened to his strong, confident voice reading of that long-ago miracle that spoke of an unfathomable grace and love, and the message resonated with her as it never had before.

  When Simon finished and closed the book, he asked Russell to lead them in prayer. That was another thing she found to admire and love about her new husband, the way he was training up the children. He might not believe in routines and discipline in the same way she did, but he would do his best to see that they had a proper upbringing. And that they knew they were loved.

  When Russell had finished and the amens were said, Simon gave them all a broad smile. “Shall we exchange the gifts?”

  The children all scrambled to fetch the gifts they’d placed under the tree last night, and to hand them to their recipients.

  There were exclamations as the children discovered who had pulled their names and then more excitement as t
hey unwrapped the packages.

  Eileen handed a small package to Fern. “Merry Christmas.”

  “But…” The girl looked up at her in confusion. “I thought the shawl—”

  “It’s not much, but I couldn’t leave you with nothing to open on Christmas morning.”

  Fern gave her a watery smile, then very carefully unwrapped the tissue paper. Inside was a lace handkerchief with Fern’s initials stitched in one corner. She stood and gave Eileen a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Eileen felt a presence at her shoulder and turned to see Simon. He slipped an arm around her waist and led her away from the knot of children.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said, pulling a package from his coat pocket.

  “Did you pull my name?” she asked suspiciously.

  He drew himself up in mock affront. “Can’t a gent get a gift for his wife without pulling her name from some hat?”

  She laughed at his teasing. “Forgive my indecorous question.”

  “As it happens, I did end up with your name, but I had to trade Dovie for it.”

  “You cheated! I don’t know whether to be upset or flattered.”

  “Definitely flattered.” He handed her the gift. “Now, are you going to open this?”

  She accepted the package and felt a fluttering excitement, similar to what the children must have felt. When she lifted the lid on the box, she found a delicate wood carving of a star and a quarter moon.

  She lifted them out and placed them in the palm of her hand, admiring the craftsmanship that had gone into their creation.

  She looked up. “You made these?”

  He nodded. “I know it’s not anything fancy. But it’s a reminder of what you mean to me, that if I could, I would give you the moon and the stars from the heavens for your very own.”

  What had she ever done to deserve such a love, such a man?

  “So you like it?”

  Ignoring the fact that they weren’t alone, Eileen wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick but very satisfying kiss. “I like it very much,” she said when she stepped back. “It’s the finest Christmas gift I’ve ever received.” She put a hand to his cheek. “From the finest man I’ve ever known.”