An Unexpected Love (22 page)

The children had enjoyed fighting over every ornament that came out of the boxes. When the task was finally completed, Jonas asked Paul to read the Christmas story from the Bible—since he was a “man of the cloth.” In the past, Grandfather Broadmoor had performed the Bible reading, so it seemed odd that someone who was not a member of the family would be given the honor. But Paul had read eloquently; he even managed to maintain the children’s interest until the end. And they’d been delighted to participate in his question-and-answer time after he finished reading. Even the smaller children were excited to tell what they knew about the birth of Jesus.

As Paul prepared to leave, Wesley complimented him on his earlier discussion with the children. “Thank you, Wesley. My work at the Home has given me ample opportunity to work with children. By the way, I was wondering if you would like to come and take a tour of the Home on Monday morning.”

Wesley nodded. “Yes, of course. I would welcome the opportunity.”

Sophie continued to maintain a tight hold on Wesley’s arm as he thanked Paul, and the two of them bid him good-night.

“I thought we might find someplace where I could give you my Christmas gift in private,” Sophie whispered.

“Where would you suggest?”

Sophie hesitated for a moment. With so many family members staying for the night, locating a place where they could be alone would be nearly impossible. “I know! We can meet in the children’s playroom. They’ve all gone to bed. So long as we leave the door open, there will be no question of impropriety.”

He smiled. “Then give me enough time to go upstairs and retrieve your gift.”

Her heart beat in quick time. All day she had longed to ask where he’d gone earlier in the day, but she remained silent. Christmas was, after all, a time of secrets, and she didn’t want to ruin any surprise Wesley might have planned for her. She hoped he would be delighted with her gift. She had returned to the photographer’s the day after her sitting, and they’d reached a monetary agreement. Sophie would present Wesley with both her picture and the easel, and she hoped he would present her with an engagement ring.

The two of them met in the children’s playroom a short time later and were careful to keep the door ajar. She eyed the package he held in his hand and was pleased when she noted it was a tiny box. “You first,” she said, handing him her gift. He opened the easel first and appeared somewhat confused, although he thanked her profusely. “You’ll understand when you open the other package,” she explained.

He tore off the paper and smiled broadly. “I couldn’t be more pleased,” he said. “How did you know?” With a gentle touch, he brushed his lips across her fingertips. “Thank you, Sophie. I shall always cherish this photograph.”

He handed her his gift. Slowly she untied the ribbon and then loosened the paper, careful not to rip it. This was his first Christmas gift to her, and she wanted to save both the ribbon and paper. She sighed when she saw the black velvet case resting inside the wrapping paper. Was it? Could it be? Her heart raced in triple time as she lifted the lid.

Sophie bit her lower lip as she stared inside. Tiny diamonds winked at her. “They’re lovely.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she could say no more. She snapped the lid closed and kept her gaze fixed upon the wrapping paper while she carefully folded it into a minute square.

“Here, let’s take them from the box.”

“Not now. I’ll remove them tomorrow.” She jumped to her feet. “I should go upstairs before Amanda or Fanny comes searching for me. Thank you for the lovely gift, Wesley.”

He smiled broadly. “I’ll expect you to wear them tomorrow.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Good night, dear Sophie. And merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she replied. Her composure remained intact until she was safely inside the bedroom. She leaned against the bedroom door, and tears flowed down her cheeks. Diamond eardrops rather than an engagement ring. He obviously wasn’t yet prepared to marry her.

Fanny sat at the window and watched the snow falling. The house was silent—dawn just minutes away—but it was Christmas Day and everyone would sleep for a time yet.

She touched the frosted glass and thought of Michael. All of her thoughts were of Michael. She couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he might be doing this Christmas morning. Clutching his letter to her breast, Fanny fought back tears as she thought of all that she’d lost over the last year.

Grandfather was gone now, and not only him, but the house. Her home. All her childhood memories were lodged there, and now the estate belonged to Daniel Irwin.

Sighing, Fanny took her hand from the window and touched it to her face. She tried to imagine that Michael, too, might be feeling a chill upon his face. Somehow holding the letter in one hand and feeling the icy cold upon her face with the other allowed Fanny to believe herself in the Yukon. At least for a fleeting moment.

“Lord, it’s so hard to bear this time of waiting. I miss Michael so much. I pray that you allow the time to pass quickly.”

Fanny smiled as she remembered times when as soon as Christmas had passed, she would tell her grandparents how she wished that it could instantly be summer.

“Do not wish your life away,”
Grandfather would tell her.
“None of us know the number of days we are allotted. It would be foolish to discard any of them.”

She sighed again. “I suppose he was right, Lord. Still, I can’t help but think that trading this winter and next spring for Michael’s return would be worth the loss of time. Even one day spent in his company would be better than a hundred here alone.”

13

Monday, December 27, 1897

Sophie’s father arrived at the front door of Uncle Jonas’s home early Monday morning as she and Wesley bundled for the cold. She detected the look of surprise when her father saw her donning her coat. “Where are you off to so early, my dear?”

“Why, I’m coming with you and Wesley. I wouldn’t consider remaining here while you take him on a tour of the Home.”

Her father tipped his head to the side. She could see confusion register in his eyes.

“But you never—”

“Don’t you worry about my time, Father. I truly want to come along with the two of you.” She hoped her frown would quell any further discussion of the subject.

He shrugged and waved them forward. “The carriage is waiting.”

The snow crunched beneath the carriage wheels as they traveled the snow-blanketed streets, and Sophie scooted closer to Wesley. While the men discussed the assets and liabilities of the Home, the current programs, and the new ideas her father hoped to initiate, Sophie permitted her mind to wander. She had little interest in any of it, yet she wouldn’t want to disappoint Wesley. From what she’d learned, he was passionate about aiding the needy and had donated a great deal of money to a variety of charities. She wouldn’t begrudge her father a bit of Wesley’s time or his fortune. One day she hoped to share in both.

“Here we are,” her father announced.

Wesley helped her down from the carriage, and the three of them walked the short distance to the front door of the Home.

“This is the reception area, where we must first gain information from each person who seeks our assistance,” her father explained.

The room was small but clean and bright. Crisp curtains hung at the two windows, and chairs were arranged in rows—most of them already occupied by those waiting their turn to receive food or medical care. A young boy sitting on his mother’s lap barked a deep croupy cough. The flush of his cheeks resembled the deep shade of summer beets, and Sophie wondered if he might die. She retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and covered her mouth. Whatever the boy suffered from was likely contagious. Did Amanda truly realize the disease and infection she would encounter in this place? Her cousin wasn’t to meet Dr. Carstead here at the Home until tomorrow morning. Sophie would have to warn her against such folly.

They stopped in her father’s office long enough to remove their coats and had just begun to make their way out of the room when Paul rushed in. “I’m glad you’ve finally arrived, Quincy. You’re needed across the hall to meet with Mr. Wilfred. Did you forget?”

Quincy slapped his palm to his forehead. “How could I forget? Please forgive me, Wesley, but it’s imperative I attend this meeting. I’ll rejoin you as soon as possible.” He grabbed some papers from the corner of his desk. “I promised Wesley a tour of the Home, Paul. Would you be so kind?”

“Indeed. Take your time. If I can’t answer Wesley’s questions, we’ll make note of them, and you can respond after your meeting.” Paul swept back his straight brown hair in a casual manner, then brushed his hand over his brown wool coat. “I’m hardly dressed for a formal presentation, so I ask that you forgive me.”

“Nonsense. Your work here is the focus, not your attire,” Wesley replied.

“That’s right,” Sophie said, forcing a smile. Paul met her eyes and pierced her with a stare. She refused to be intimidated and clutched Wesley’s arm tightly. “Wesley’s nature dictates that he do what he can for the poor and despised. Just as Father does.”

“I see,” Paul said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Sophie quickly turned away to focus on the room around her. This place had stolen her father’s attention and love. It seemed only fitting she learn more about her rival.

The cracked plaster along one edge of the wall caught her eye. She would have preferred to reschedule their visit rather than have Paul conduct the tour. But the decision had already been made, and to voice a complaint would appear rude. Though she cared little what Paul might think, she wouldn’t want Wesley to think her impolite.

They marched down the narrow hall single file. When they entered a large dormitory-style room, Sophie grasped Wesley’s arm again. “This is where the women and some of the children sleep at night,” she told him. “They also—”

“I didn’t realize you were so familiar with the operation, Sophie. Perhaps you’d like to lead the tour, and I’ll listen. I’m always prepared to learn something new,” Paul said.

Sophie felt the heat rise in her neck. Although her father had talked of nothing else since first opening the doors of the Home for the Friendless, she’d listened little and had seldom been inside the building. She noted the glint in Paul’s eye. He was obviously relishing her discomfort. Granted, she’d been acting the know-it-all, but he had no right to embarrass her in front of Wesley.

Regaining her composure, she forced her lips into a demure smile. “Absolutely not, Paul. I’ve been traveling, and I know you and my father have been working tirelessly. I’m certain there have been many changes.”

He shook his head. “No, not really. We haven’t had sufficient funding to make the changes we’ve discussed just yet, so you are welcome to—”

“Please continue. I
insist.
” Sophie clenched her jaw until it ached. Paul was definitely enjoying her discomfort. Thankfully, he didn’t force her to plead any further. Instead, he took up where she’d ended, going on to describe the housing arrangements for the temporary residents of the Home.

“We have much more we’d like to accomplish. With additional funds, we hope to develop ways to teach new skills and better equip these folks to earn a living. Most of them want to work, but they simply can’t find employment or don’t have the proper skills or references. Of course, the widows and orphans have special needs of their own.”

Sophie sighed with relief when her father returned a short time later and completed the tour. They didn’t see Paul again until they were preparing to depart. He stood in one of the side rooms, apparently occupied with helping someone. To Sophie’s surprise he was laughing and talking to an older gentleman, all the while helping him button his shirt and secure his tie. Sophie thought at first Paul was rather ill-mannered to ramble on and on, but then she realized something. He was purposefully keeping the old man occupied with his story to keep him from being embarrassed about having to receive help. She was mesmerized by the scene, but for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. Not two feet away her father and Wesley were deep in discussion, but Sophie couldn’t pull her gaze away from Paul and the old man.

Laughing, Paul reached out and shook the old man’s hand. The man smiled and tottered off toward the end of the room. Then Paul turned and caught Sophie watching him. She felt her cheeks flush as he moved toward her, but he seemed unconcerned that she had observed him.

“Ah, here you are, Paul. Mr. Hedrick and Sophie were just preparing to leave,” Sophie’s father announced.

“I’m glad I had a chance to say good-bye. I hope you found satisfaction in our establishment,” Paul said.

“Very much so,” Wesley answered. “I thought it a fine example of what can be offered to the less fortunate.”

Paul shook hands with Wesley. “I hope you’ll come again.”

He escorted them to the reception area, and for a moment, Sophie thought Paul might follow them out the door. He was obviously quite interested in Wesley, for she’d never heard Paul ask so many questions.