An Unexpected Love (36 page)

She didn’t withdraw when he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d missed the train.”

“It’s nice to know you were worried.” He squeezed her arm. “I’m delighted that you came down to meet me.”

“I wouldn’t shame you. We must keep up appearances.”

He frowned. “I had hoped that perhaps you had missed me.”

Sophie heard the regret in his voice. “I did miss you. There was no one to fight with,” she said with a grin.

He shook his head and smiled. “I should have known.”

“I hope you’re not anxious to join the others. Fanny would like to speak to the two of us alone.” Sophie pointed to a spot not far from the boathouse. “She’s waiting for us over there.”

“If you’re not going to permit me to even take my suitcase up to the house, this must be important. How can I refuse?”

There was hesitation in his voice, and Sophie smiled, hoping to reassure him. If he thought something amiss, he’d likely become guarded and unwilling to accept Fanny’s offer.

“Tell me about the parade. Did the children enjoy themselves?”

She noted a hint of skepticism in Paul’s eyes. “The parade was quite nice. It lasted for nearly an hour, if you count the time getting everyone lined up. Some of the children were permitted to march behind the band and carry small flags, which made them very happy.”

“And the picnic? Did you stay for that?”

He shook his head. “I remained long enough to help get the freezers prepared to turn ice cream, and then I left.”

“Ice cream? Who provided the cream and sugar for that treat?”

“Mr. Parnell. He even donated the ice and the loan of two freezers. The boys were lining up to take their turns cranking the handles when I left.”

They continued to discuss the children until Fanny stepped forward to greet Paul. She carefully laid out her plan and then waited for his response.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground. “I can’t accept your offer, Fanny. Not that I don’t think it’s very kind and generous of you, but it’s my responsibility to provide a home for Sophie and our baby.”

Sophie’s heart quickened. He’d said
our baby
as easily as if he’d truly fathered the child she carried.

Fanny leaned against the tree and met Paul’s gaze. “I received a full one-third of my grandfather’s estate. It’s more money than any one person would ever need. If I cannot bless the ones I love, then what good is the money? I have prayed on the matter. I believe God wants me to help you and Sophie so that you may continue your work at the Home. You seek and accept help for others all the time, Paul. Does God not care as much about you as those to whom you minister? If you won’t accept this gift for yourself, then accept it because you love Sophie and the baby.”

“I suppose I was letting my pride take over. And you’re right. It’s not proper for me to deny Sophie a decent home.”

Fanny beamed and grabbed Paul’s hand. “Thank you. I’m going to go speak to Uncle Jonas right this minute. He’s preparing for the yearly distribution and will have money on his mind. I’ll have him set up a bank account and transfer the money so the funds will be available whenever you find the house you want.”

“Thank you,” Sophie called as Fanny turned and hurried toward the house. She waved and continued onward. “She’s probably afraid to stop for fear you’ll change your mind.”

“She need not worry. I’ve given her my word,” Paul said. “Tell me, how have things been for you while I’ve been in Rochester?”

“There has been some gossip, of course, and some members of the family are angry that we’re celebrating the holiday here on the island. They blame me, and I suppose they’re justified in doing so. I’m certain Aunt Victoria feared the day would be fraught with insensitive questions.”

“Don’t permit their talk to cause you distress, Sophie.”

She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’m more concerned about the damage my reputation will do to you than the twittering of gossip that goes on behind my back. What if marrying me means that you must remain on the fringes in places like the Home for the Friendless? My past may prevent you from achieving your goals. Don’t you want to pastor a large church some day?”

“I have no idea where God will lead me in the future, Sophie, but if He wants me in a large church, I know it will happen. For now, He wants me exactly where I am, and I’m content.” He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder. “It pleases me to know of your concern, but I weighed the possible consequences of our marriage before I proposed.” He winked at her. “Even though I must sleep on the floor, I have no regrets. We’d best be on our way to the house before your aunt sends out a search party.”

He continued to hold her close as they walked up the path. “You’ve been feeling well while I’ve been away?”

“I’ve had some occasional pain from time to time, but Aunt Victoria assures me that such twinges are normal.”

They’d progressed up the path only a short distance when Sophie came to a sudden halt and placed her palm across her stomach.

Paul stared, his brows knit with worry. “Are you in pain? Should I fetch your aunt or Mrs. Atwell?”

Overwhelmed by a sense of wonder, Sophie looked deeply into Paul’s eyes. “The baby. I felt the baby move.”

“Truly?” He looked at her as if she’d just accomplished the most remarkable thing.

Sophie smiled and nodded. “I’ve never known anything like it.”

“I’m glad I could be here the first time it happened. I love that we could share this moment,” Paul said, placing his hand over hers.

Sophie tried to secure a wall around her heart, but at best it was more of a picket fence. She pulled away. “We should hurry. Uncle Jonas is going to distribute the money as he does every year. I get a small portion, and of course it’s yours to do with as you will.”

Paul followed behind her as they made their way into the house. He said nothing more, but Sophie could tell he was considering everything that had happened since his arrival on the island.

A half hour later, a very distraught looking Uncle Jonas handed out the yearly disbursements. “As you know,” he began, “my father made a stipulation in his will that the summer distributions would continue until Fanny reached her eighteenth summer. That, of course, is this summer. While there will continue to be a very modest amount of money shared each year, we will no longer be forced to meet here on Broadmoor Island.”

“Will the island be sold like Grandfather’s house?” Beatrice asked.

“No. There are legalities involved that I will not take the time to go into at this moment,” Jonas replied. He dabbed sweat from his brow. “I would advise all of you, however, to be wise with this money. The economy has suffered many tests and trials. There is no way of knowing how successful any one investment will continue to be in the years to come. Large purchases could prove foolish.” He looked directly at Fanny.

Sophie figured he had protested Fanny’s desire to pay for the Medford house, but she didn’t care. She certainly couldn’t risk the safety of her child.

The grumbling continued for several minutes until finally Jonas stamped a large book against his desk. “Quiet! There is no sense in arguing about the matter. Investment money is dependent upon a variety of issues in our nation.”

Sophie shifted uncomfortably. The nagging pain in her back made sitting on the hard chair quite taxing. Paul seemed to understand and stood. “I do apologize, Mr. Broadmoor, but Sophie is feeling a bit tired. With your permission I would like to help her upstairs.”

Jonas frowned but nodded. “Very well.”

Paul escorted Sophie from the room and led her to the staircase. She put her hand upon his arm as they began to ascend. “Thank you,” she told him. “It would seem you are always rescuing me from one situation or another.”

“I promise you I do not mind.” He smiled. “Your welfare is far more important to me. I would rather you be happy and at peace.”

“I am at peace,” she admitted, casting a quick glance up at his face. “I managed to give it all over to God. To die, as it were, to my selfish ambitions and sinful nature. At least I am attempting that feat.”

Paul paused and gripped her hand. “You needn’t struggle alone. God has promised He will never leave us or forsake us. His faithfulness is something you can count on, Sophie. Even when people let you down and disappoint. You might not always understand God’s ways. You might even believe He has deserted you, too, but that will never happen. And if I have any say over it—any breath in my body—I, too, will never desert you. I might disappoint, even fail to please, but I pledge to always be with you.”

Sophie felt tears come to her eyes. Why was he so good to her? She didn’t deserve his kindness or love. How could he love her? She carried another man’s child. She mourned the loss of another man’s love. How could Paul look beyond all of that and love her?

“Thank you,” she barely managed to whisper. Pulling away from him, she took hold of her dress and hurried up the stairs. She didn’t want to make a scene, but most of all she didn’t want him to question her feelings—feelings she couldn’t begin to understand.

24

Friday, July 15, 1898

Fanny heard Mr. Atwell’s shouts before she caught sight of him loping up the path from the dock. She squinted into the afternoon sunshine. Michael’s father was holding an envelope overhead and waving it in the air.

“A letter for you, Fanny.” Hand outstretched, Michael’s father bent forward and gasped for air as he reached her side. “From Michael.”

She clutched the letter to her chest. “Finally!” She could feel the tears beginning to form. “Did you receive one, too?”

Mr. Atwell shook his head. “No. But you never know. One might arrive tomorrow or the next day.” He smiled, and two deep ridges formed in his tanned cheeks and reminded her of Michael. “I’m not going to stand here while you read it. I’m sure you’d like some privacy while you see what Michael has to say. But you might let the missus know how her son is doing when you’ve a few free minutes—not the personal words, of course.”

Mr. Atwell was doing his best to balance their unusual relationship. It was obvious he didn’t want to overstep the boundaries of an employee, yet his son was now engaged to Fanny. She knew Michael’s parents longed for word of their youngest son.

“I’ll go to the kitchen once I’ve read the letter,” she promised.

He tipped his hat and waved before he turned and walked back down the path. A part of her wanted to hold the letter in a loving caress, while the other part longed to rip open the envelope and devour the contents. She traced a finger over the neatly formed letters of her name. She pictured him sitting near a blazing fire as he’d penned the letter to her. How she longed to be with him.

Gazing out across the lawn, Fanny knew there was only one place in all the world where she wanted to read this letter. Her special place. The place her father had loved to go with her mother. The place where she and her father had spent moments so dear to her memory that they often seemed as though they’d only happened yesterday.

She was glad that everyone else seemed occupied. No one called to her in greeting or demanded she join them for games. Fanny slipped across the grassy expanse and made her way north through the trees.

How many times have I made this journey?

Smiling, she knew that for as long as she lived she would come to this place. She hoped one day she might even share it with her children. The thought of children made her think of Sophie and the baby she carried. Her cousin’s life was so intricately connected to Fanny. Sophie and Amanda were her best friends, outside of Michael. They had seen her through so many ordeals—deaths, marriages, births. She couldn’t imagine not having them in her life, yet she knew from having watched others in the family that life could change very quickly. People married and moved away without giving it another thought. It could happen to them.

The trees thinned and the rocky outcropping came into view, along with the crisp blue of the St. Lawrence River. Fanny went to the tree where she’d found her father’s lifeless form so many years ago. She saw the flowers she’d left there as a memorial when they’d first returned to the island in June. They were dry and dead, but the sight did not cause her despair. With Michael’s letter in hand, she could face most anything.

She took a seat on the ground and leaned back against the tree. Carefully, she unsealed the envelope and retrieved the pages from inside the paper cocoon. Fingers trembling, she unfolded the pages and began to read, slowly digesting each word.

My dearest Fanny,
I hope this letter reaches you before summer. I heard of a special post going out and paid extra to see if I could get word to you. I will post it to the island, however, in case it is delayed. That way, should it get there before you come, my mother will forward it for me.

She felt her throat tighten. Was something wrong? Why had he been so desperate to get the letter to her? She glanced at the top of the page and realized that he’d written it in February.

The winter is fierce and seems to go on forever. We pass the time in work and darkness. There are few hours of daylight here, and that makes the snow and frigid chill seem even worse. Nevertheless, night and day we work at finding gold. We’ve been quite successful. Zeb and Sherman are wonderful men of God. They insist on tithing a tenth of everything we find. What a blessing to know such men. We bow our heads not only at meals but at the start of each day. Zeb reads to us from the Bible, and we discuss the meaning of the words. I’ve learned so much from these simple men. I can hardly wait to see you and tell you all about it.

Fanny sighed. She could imagine Michael and the two rugged mountain men sitting at the breakfast table in a tiny cabin studying the Word of God and praying.

Sherman says that God is interested in every aspect of our lives. I found that quite interesting. I suppose I have always known that I could take everything to God in prayer, but I am beginning to understand more about the idea of praying without ceasing. Here, where gold is worshiped and men can die for little more than stepping on a man’s claim, it has been my utmost blessing to share my days with Zeb and Sherman.
I have to tell you about the cabin. Sherman and Zeb were here, you remember, before the rush. Therefore, there were still plenty of trees with which to build. Since then, much of the forest has been cut for the benefit of mining. You wouldn’t believe it, but there are towns along the way north that are completely void of trees. Many were used to build boats to float up to Dawson City. Others were used to create buildings for the towns, and much was needed for fuel. Fuel is most critical, as the nights often drop to forty below zero.