Courting Miss Adelaide (27 page)

When you love, truly love a person, you help rather than censure. Perhaps her mother had influenced her more than she realized. She hoped it wasn’t too late to change.

Thursday afternoon, Emma ran across the schoolyard, the pigtails Adelaide had carefully braided that morning flying out behind her and unraveling around her face. Adelaide scooped the little girl into her arms. Hand in hand, they started for home.

Adelaide squeezed Emma’s hand. “How was your day?”

“Billy said his papa didn’t like what you wrote in the paper. He said you’re dumb. What did you write?”

“An essay on why women should be allowed to vote.”

“What’s dumb about that?”

“Nothing. Some people don’t like women to make decisions.”

“Like Tad won’t let us girls pick teams at recess?”

“Sort of like that.”

“Well, it’s not fair.” Emma thrust out her lower lip.

Adelaide patted the little girl’s shoulder, Charles’s words,
Life often isn’t fair, Addie,
tumbling in her mind.

Adelaide stopped and bent down, hoping to make Emma understand. “I agree, sweetheart. Everyone in this great country should have a say in who makes the rules.”

“Can I make some of
our
rules?” Emma asked, her blue eyes shining with mischief, the unfairness of her life forgotten.

Adelaide laughed and tugged Emma toward her for a hug. “We’ll have to see about that.”

Emma grinned and they walked on. Adelaide had started to say Emma could make some rules if she had the wisdom. But men used a woman’s perceived lack of wisdom as their objection for suffrage, putting women on the level of children.

Her mind on suffrage, Adelaide almost bumped into Frances Drummond huddling in front of the pharmacy, her gaze riveted on Emma and filled with longing.

Emma’s brow furrowed in concern. “Where’s William?”

Frances stroked Emma’s cheek. “He’s at the mill with Ed.”

Before Emma could say more, Adelaide touched her shoulder. “Would you run back to school and get your McGuffey’s reader? I’d like you to read from it tonight.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll wait for you here.”

Emma gave Frances a smile. “I’m a good reader,” she said, then dashed off toward the school.

With Emma out of earshot, Adelaide turned back to Frances, who looked even thinner and paler than the last time she’d seen her. A faded bruise marked her left cheek.

Frances took a shaky breath. “You and Emma love each other. I saw it in both of your eyes.” Her voice sounded thick, as if tears ran down the back of her throat. “I want to talk to the committee.”

Adelaide’s heart thumped in her chest, hope galloping through her. “Why?”

Frances’s eyes misted. “To tell them about…Ed’s abuse. Get William out of harm’s way.”

Realizing this decision cost Frances dearly, Adelaide clasped her hands together to keep from giving her a hug.

“You’re a good mother. I want you to have both children.”

Unable to speak, Adelaide covered her mouth, holding back her tears—tears of joy for her, tears of sorrow for Frances.

“Those articles you wrote in the paper are the reason I’m speaking up.”

Adelaide could barely comprehend that her words had given Frances such courage. “Would you like me to go with you?”

“I’d be obliged.” Frances dashed away the tears sliding down her cheeks. “Could we meet in the early afternoon? Ed doesn’t come in from the fields until dark so I should be able to leave without him knowing.”

“How about two o’clock tomorrow afternoon in the courthouse?”

Frances nodded.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” a gravelly voice demanded.

Adelaide’s heart skipped a beat. She swung around to encounter the glowering face of Ed Drummond. How long had he been listening? How much had he heard?

“For…helping Emma with her math,” Frances stammered, resting a tentative hand on his arm. “Where’s William?”

“He’d better be waiting in the wagon like I told him.” Ed shrugged off his wife’s touch and pivoted to Adelaide. “You’re quite the rabble-rouser, aren’t you? Now you’re trying to turn husbands and wives against each other with your radical ideas.”

Ed lowered his head and placed his mouth close to Adelaide’s ear. “You aren’t as smart as you think you are, missy,” he whispered, his breath warm on her neck, raising the fine hairs at her nape. “Leave us alone, and let me take care of my family like God intended.”

How dare he liken his treatment of Frances to God’s design?

Ed’s lip curled into a snarl. “And stay away from the sheriff, you hear? I won’t warn you twice.”

Fear slithered down Adelaide’s spine and coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Ed took his wife’s elbow and stalked off. Adelaide watched the Drummonds enter the law office two doors down, and then expelled the breath she’d been holding.

She scanned the street. Long fingers of terror closed a stranglehold on her throat.
Where’s Emma? She should be back by now. Had Ed gotten Emma before he joined them?

Adelaide set off for the school, holding up her skirts and running fast, begging Heaven for Emma’s protection. Soon her breath came in hitches and pain gored her right side. Up ahead, she spotted Emma, swinging along and singing at the top of her lungs. Dropping to her knees, Adelaide thanked God for the precious little girl’s safety.

Emma saw her and sprinted to her side. “Miss Weaver asked me to wash the slates.” Emma beamed with pride and then held up a tan book. “I got my reader.”

Rising to her knees, Adelaide draped an arm around Emma’s shoulders and inhaled the scent of soap, chalk, damp skin. She’d never smelled anything sweeter in her life. “That’s wonderful, honey. You’re a big helper.”

“Where’s Mrs. Drummond?”

“She had an appointment and couldn’t wait. Would you like to help me sew a hem this afternoon?”

“Can I thread my own needle?”

Adelaide smiled at the eagerness in Emma’s voice. “Yes, and you can thread mine, too. If you’d like, you can thread every needle in my sewing box.”

Emma beamed. “I love you, Miss Adelaide.”

Adelaide blinked and tears welled in her eyes. Emma’s mouth formed a perfect O and her blue eyes grew round with surprise.

“I love you, too.” Adelaide gathered Emma close. “So very much.”

Emma squeezed Adelaide with all the might in her small body. For a moment they remained motionless in each other’s arms, their declarations settling around them, as satisfying as manna from Heaven.

Adelaide played Emma’s words over in her mind. For the first time in her life, someone had declared feelings of love. How had she been granted this most wonderful of gifts? What had she ever done to deserve it?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

God had given her Emma, plain and simple. No one was going to take away that precious gift.
No one.

Later that afternoon, with Laura taking care of the shop and supervising Emma’s homework, Adelaide had gone to the paper to ask Charles to arrange a committee meeting, but he wasn’t there. Teddy had pointed her toward the livery.

As she stood outside the stable doors, Adelaide watched Charles brush Ranger’s coat. Stepping closer, she noticed lines, usually faint around Charles’s eyes, now deep and grooved. Dark smudges beneath his lashes revealed his fatigue.

Well, she was tired, too. Tired of waiting for trouble. Tired of handling that trouble alone. Tired of missing Charles.

If only she could move into his strong arms, have them close around her, and for a while, let him take her burdens. But she had no time for games, not when Ed Drummond held William in his clutches.

She straightened her spine. “Charles.”

He jerked up his head. “Addie!”

She steeled herself against the joy she heard in his voice. As much as she loved him, he didn’t love her. “I need a favor.”

He hurried around the horse, his gaze skimming over her, as if making sure she wasn’t a dream. “Anything.”

“Better hear me out before you make any promises.”

Her words slowed his steps. “I’m listening.”

“Frances Drummond wants to meet with the committee. To expose Ed’s abuse so she can get William out of there.” For a moment, too emotional to continue, Adelaide laid a palm over her trembling lips. “She spoke up because…of my columns,” she said, her words tinged with wonder.

He nodded. “You’re making things happen, bringing change.”

“She wants me to have both the children permanently.”

“That’s wonderful!”

He reached out and drew her into a hug. The scent of his skin, the hard plane of his chest and the heat from his body filled her senses—as familiar as coming home.

She lifted her face and met his gaze, wanting his kiss with a hunger that left her reeling.

But then the smile in his eyes slipped away. He released her and took a step back. “What are the chances the committee will allow you to have them, merely because Frances says so?”

“What she wants should count for something.”

Charles’s brow furrowed and he studied the floor, obviously hesitant to speak his mind. “You’re still a single woman.”

His words held the pain of a slap. Again, a man—or the lack of one—made the decisions in her life. “Being a single woman isn’t comparable to abuse. Surely the committee would rather I have those children than Ed. The committee only has to talk to Emma to see she’s happy with me.”

“Things aren’t always that simple, that fair.”

“No, but I’m not letting that stop me. You know more than anyone how I feel about Emma.”

“You’re a great mother.” He shook his head. “But I need to warn you—that doesn’t mean the committee won’t find another home for Emma and William, one with two parents. You need to prepare for the possibility.”

Behind them Ranger stamped his foot and Adelaide barely resisted doing the same. “Prepare to lose those children? Never! I’m through with my life—my future—being dictated by men.” She stepped toward him. “With or without your support, I intend to fight for Emma and William.”

He raised a hand then let it fall. “You could be hurt.”

She and Charles had spent their lives captives of their pasts, afraid to take a risk. “I may get hurt but at least I’ll be living.” She bit her lip to keep from crying and poked his chest with her finger. “Too bad you won’t do the same.”

“You don’t understand. I miss you, but—”

“The problem with you—there’s always a ‘but’ in the way.”

He flinched, but she didn’t care. Clearly he wasn’t going to fight for the two of them.

“When should I schedule the meeting?”

“Two o’clock tomorrow afternoon at the courthouse. Tell them Mrs. Drummond has something important to say.”

His gaze locked with hers. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” She moved toward the door, her reason for being there finished. But her feet dragged and her mind nagged at her, telling her to go toward Charles, toward the man who stood with his arms at his sides. She paused.

Put them around me, Charles. Take a risk.

But he didn’t. Instead he walked back to his horse. Anger churned within her, but remembering the lesson Fannie and James had taught her, she tamped it down. When you love someone, you never give up on that person. This might be her best chance to talk to Charles about trust and forgiveness. About God.

She pivoted to where Charles stood. “God loves you. Do you have any idea how much you matter to Him?”

Head down, he leaned against Ranger, quiet and tall, a silhouette against the open door at the other end of the livery.

At last, he lifted his gaze, his pain-filled eyes bleak. “Then why did He allow me to be beaten, Addie?” he said, his voice cracking. “I prayed and prayed God would stop my father. He didn’t.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. How did she answer that? Would Charles ever understand on this earth? And what of her own lonely childhood? They’d both paid a price for something they didn’t do. But she truly believed God had a plan for their lives.

“Charles, I’m not sure why God allowed you to suffer. Maybe we’ll never know. But could it be we’re the people we are today because of our childhoods? That you and I survived and are stronger for what we experienced?”

Please God, help me say this right.

“Maybe you went through that nightmare so you could help others—if you’d let God use you.”

Charles took a step back. “God wouldn’t use me. He isn’t close to me like He is to you.”

What did Charles mean? She wasn’t getting through to him. “God hasn’t moved. Let Him into your heart.”

Then the thought came—lifting a huge weight from her shoulders. Only God had the authority to bring Charles to Him. She’d do all she could, but in the end, saving Charles remained in God’s hands.

Still, before she left, something else needed saying. “Open the Bible. All you need is in there.”

He grimaced, his face etched with years of hurt and struggle, as easy to read as
The Ledger.
“You make it sound simple.” He picked up the brush, running it along Ranger’s side.

“It
is
simple. Let Him in.”

He turned to her, his gaze forlorn, ripping at Adelaide’s heart. “Which door do I open, Addie? All of mine were nailed shut a long time ago.”

Her eyes misted. “You said you believe in God.”

“Yes, but unlike you, I don’t believe He gets involved with people’s lives. If He did, He’d never tolerate my father, or the Ed Drummonds in this world.” Charles’s mouth thinned. “From what I’ve seen, evil goes unchecked and the innocent suffer.”

How could she get through the wall he’d built? “Your past and the newspaper business have skewed your view of mankind. Good people outnumber the bad.”

Down the way, a horse neighed and Ranger nodded his head as if he understood. God had created the animal world with care and purpose. How much more He cherished human beings fashioned in His image. Yet God demanded obedience.

“I can’t say what He’ll do with your father, with the evildoers of this world, but His Word promises He will judge.”

Charles’s eyes glittered. Were those tears? “I’m sure that’s true,” he said softly, returning to his brushing.