Edwina (30 page)

“I’m going to run,” Paige declared, and after
a nod from her teacher, she ran down the lane.

“Not to the road,” Edwina cautioned.

Several times the girl stopped, pointed
wildly, and shouted, “Flowers, Miss Blair!” Then off she would
go.

If all went as scheduled, Mr. Dunnegin would
return in four weeks. Paige had wanted to figure hours and minutes,
but it would have been confusing for a five-year-old, so she
suggested they go by days. A new color, black, was used to mark the
x’s on the calendar, signifying that was how many days her father
was late.

The Gillespies were kneeling in the soft dirt
freshened by the recent rains. They planted new seedlings and
rearranged the flower beds, which brightened the front of the manor
with new color. The spring newness shone in the sunlight; the
blades of grass glistened, the pink, white, yellow, and purple
pansies blew in the soft wind.

They looked up when Paige shouted about
something and waved. Edwina could see the love for the child in
their eyes. Soon they would fly off to Boston again to see their
son, compliments of their employer. He had promised to release them
for a holiday as soon as he returned.

Edwina longed to attend a small church
somewhere nearby, but she could not leave until Mr. Dunnegin came
back. She could make arrangements then since she would surely be
allowed some days to do as she wished.

Whatever business had kept
him from his daughter’s Christmas and birthday had better be worth
it
, she thought grumpily one
day.

It was Saturday and rain had saturated
everything. Even now the rain gushed over the windowpanes. She and
Paige laid out a thousand-piece puzzle, all daisies and sunflowers.
What confusion. She liked simpler puzzles, but the small female had
declared they could do it together. And together they did. At least
Edwina tried to concentrate on the slight variations in color.

“That doesn’t go there,” the five-year-old
voice cried out.

Edwina shook her brains to waken them. A sort
of melancholy had settled in. She missed her father, her sister,
and even Spencer’s funny smile. How was the restaurant going? Were
they getting along, the two entrepreneurs? Was Mr. Dunnegin even
now in Chicago taking Cecelia to plays and pronouncing her
beautiful?

Musing, she excused herself. Paige barely
noticed. She was too busy finding all the edge pieces.

Time to write the finale. It had taken nearly
two months to write her dream story. And for some odd reason,
Edwina had neglected to finish the ending where the hero and
heroine get together after all the crisscrosses and hardships.
Perhaps it was the end of a dream she once dared to believe about
herself.

Knowing she would have no more scenes to
visualize, no more conducting her characters at will, something—she
couldn’t think what—a sort of conflict settled over her. The upshot
of the whole writing thing had her stumped.

Shaking off the sense of
disparity, she returned to her novel. Should she make the ending
sweet and fulfilling? Or a true to life
it-ain’t-gonna-happen
thing?

Suddenly her pencil began to move across the
page, and two hours later, her heart rising and falling with
emotion, the story ended. Antoinette, the beautiful heroine, won
the Scot’s heart with the drama due a romantic story. Misty- eyed,
Edwina put her pencil down.

The yellow pads lay stacked up before her.
Story finished. Edwina wanted to cry. She had no idea why. Of
course no one would know the story was about her beautiful sister
and the handsome Scot. She had changed their names, but it was
their story nonetheless.

Conflicting emotions battled in her head like
two swordsman. One the good guy, one the bad guy. Her sister
deserved a good man. Edwina wanted one too and smiled at the
thought of Spencer. He had kissed her and called her and even said
he wanted to come with Cecelia should they ever be able to hire
someone to watch over their new business venture. But that would
take a year or more.

But Edwina knew it couldn’t possibly last.
She was too practical, Spencer too full of risk. Perhaps she should
consider her present calling as her life’s work. There could not be
a better reason to stay. Paige. Except in a few months her year
would be up and Cecelia would take over.

Chin resting in her hand, Edwina tapped her
pencil on the pad. The dark-haired, dark-eyed girl had stolen parts
of her heart she thought she owned. Like fear for the five-year-
old’s safety. Knowing now the importance of a father and mother to
a child. Caring about what man Paige would grow up and marry. And
whether or not she would be there for her wedding.

The phone jangled, skyrocketing her heartbeat
instantly. She’d been daydreaming, and foolishly. She scolded
herself as she untangled her feet from the chair and reached across
the desk.

“Spencer.” She smiled at the sound of his
familiar voice. A blast from the past—and just in time, it
seemed.

“Yes, I’m doing well. How’s the
restaurant?”

“Really? I’m glad.”

“What? Are you kidding? How can you afford to
get away so soon?”

“But Spencer, you just started the
restaurant. Well, I guess it has been a few months.”

“I know, it’s just that I’ve been busy. Paige
requires a lot of energy.” She laughed lightly. “Yes, I know. She
told me. Has Mr. Dunnegin proposed yet?”

“Sorry, I was just asking. They went to South
Carolina?”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“So, what’s new with you?” She changed the
topic, and Spencer didn’t seem to notice. “What? Two chefs already?
It’s growing that fast?”

“Whoa, you’ve paid your school bill off, eh?
The struggling student finally receives his reward.”

“Yep. I’m happy too, but we’re talking about
your success, not mine.”

“Well, anyway, congratulations.”

“Yes. I plan on coming back. Some day.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I really
don’t know when. Paige has school, Mr. Dunnegin has not returned
yet, and well...” She didn’t want to talk about him right now.

“Look, I need to get going. Thank you so much
for calling. It’s good to hear your voice. Tell Cecelia I’ll call
her tomorrow. Sunday rates are cheaper.”

“Thanks. No, don’t you dare. Spencer, if you
come here, you’d better let me know a month ahead of time,” she
warned.

“
You are hopeless.” She
laughed and the conversation ended with good-byes.

Sunday arrived sunny and bright. During
breakfast Paige pleaded her case until Edwina finally gave in.

“Okay, okay, it’s a nice day. We’ll get the
bikes out.”

“Aye, you are my favorite teacher.” She
flailed her arms wildly and started running for the barn before
Edwina could finish her breakfast.

“See there now lassie, ye’ve got yerself in
high waters.” Mr. Gillespie espied her over his half-glasses. “I’ve
got to see to the lambs and then I’ll join the lass out front.”

Mrs. Gillespie rolled her eyes and continued
peeling the carrots. “We’ll be aboot having stew if I keep at it.”
She wiped the countertop clean and pulled out the cabbage and
celery to slice. “And an apple dumpling, if I’m left in me kitchen
alone. . . .” She gave her man the evil eye.

“I’m going on me way, missus.” He put on the
old fedora and winking at his beloved, slipped out into the first
summer- like day of the year.

Edwina heard her name being called from afar.
“I’d best answer the child before she breaks in here at full
speed,” she told Mrs. Gillespie, who chuckled.

“Ye’re the one who bought the bikes,
lass.”

“Not very farsighted am I?” She sprinted out
the door, wiping her hands on her jeans. What a perfect day for a
bike ride across the rolling hills of Scotland.

A quick learner, Paige easily gained her
balance, and Edwina sent her off on her first bike ride. The
teacher was a bit shakier than her newly taught rider. Paige had
the gift of strength and a definite athletic bent. Soon enough the
two were riding up and down the long, serpentine lane. Edwina
watched as she rode, the little red hat, a tam-o’-shanter she
learned, perched upon her head. Mr. Dunnegin had given it to her
the day he left. It had belonged to her mother.

One of the finest things he had done, to
Edwina’s way of thinking. She wondered what Paige’s mother looked
like. There were no family pictures about the manor.

The child was tireless. She shot past several
times, once in a while nearly losing control. “You’ve just started.
Slow down or you’re going to tip and hurt yourself. Then what would
your father say?”

“He’d have to come home then,” she stated
stubbornly, also like her father.

When they’d nearly reached the main road,
Edwina forced her charge to stop and listen to her speech. “Now
lass, see here, you are not to go out to the road. You hear?”

“I hear.”

“Look at me, Paige. I mean what I say. Cars
cannot see little girls on their bikes. You are too small. Come,
we’ll go back. You may ride up to that tree,” she pointed, “and no
farther.”

“Okay, that tree?”

“Yes, that tree.” Edwina pointed again,
confirming her directive.

They started back and Edwina heard her name.
Mrs. Gillespie was calling.

She hurried along and left the bike leaning
against the front porch and ran inside. “Paige, stay near the
manor,” she called over her shoulder.

“I will, Miss Blair.”

“See that you do.” Edwina hurried to the
kitchen. “What is it Mrs. Gillespie?”

“The phone, dearie. From America.” She winked
and walked outside, leaving Edwina to her call.

Edwina’s heart fell to her feet. Was Mr.
Dunnegin coming home?

She answered, and Spencer began talking
before she had time to think clearly. “What? You can’t come. I’m
not ready. Vacation? You just started your business, Spencer, you
can’t leave it.”

“Well, if you want to...”

From a far off distance, Edwina heard the
sound of a car horn and then screeching. Something hit her hard in
the stomach.

“Paige!” she shouted and ran, dropping the
phone.

Certain she would see the little girl riding
in the circle, her eyes darted around and then her heart sank. She
wasn’t here. Screaming her name again and again, she knew deep in
her heart something was wrong. She ran for the road.

Cars had stopped. People gathered. “Oh God,
please don’t let it be her. Please God, please,” she begged, but
her heart felt the pain already. She knew.

Running until the breath was out of her and
still running, she cut through the gathering crowd of people and
saw Paige lying on the concrete, face white and skin peeled from
her chin. Then she saw her leg. Bones were sticking out.

She gagged and turned away, squeezing her
eyes shut. But she saw the same horrible scene. Paige’s leg. The
bicycle lay crumpled near a bush. Paige had been on it. “Oh God,
help her.”

In that instant she took hold of herself.
“Has anyone called for help?” she shouted.

Several ayes called back. She knelt next to
Paige and took her hand. It looked all right. She leaned over and
whis- pered, “I’m here, Paige. Hold on, mommy’s going to help
you.”

“Mommy?” Her voice was weak.

“Yes, mommy’s here. I won’t leave you. I
promise. Remember you are loved, Paige. No matter what, remember
you are loved.”

“Okay,” came the word, barely audible.

Edwina wanted to scream. And thought she had,
but it was the strange sounding wail of the ambulance. Before she
could do anything, she and Paige were flying toward the
hospital.

Everything seemed otherworldly. The medical
people talking to Paige, to her. She spoke, but couldn’t remember
what she said. She could only say, “God, please help her.” Over and
over.

Had the Gillespies heard anything? They
needed to call Mr. Dunnegin. Now. He needed to be here. Oh God, she
had bought the bikes and now this. . . .

As soon as the gurney passed through the
doors, Paige was taken away from her. She wrung her hands and found
a nurse. “I need to call someone.”

The nurse, attentive and gentle, led her to
the phone. Edwina picked it up, but couldn’t remember the number.
She dropped to the floor sobbing. Someone came along and took the
phone from her hand, put it back, and persuaded her to sit
down.

“What can I do for ye?”

“I need... I need to call Mr. Dunnegin,” she
whimpered. “His little girl . . .oh God,” she sobbed again.

Bent over and sick to her stomach, she wanted
to vomit. Wanted to think this was a dream and surely she would
wake up and Paige would say something smart to her.

“Lass, do ye know the number ye need to call?
I’ll do it for ye. Calm yourself and think.” The gentle words
reached her wretched brain.

“Yes... I must... think. It’s . . .” She gave
the attendant the number and was handed the phone.

“Mrs. Gillespie,” she broke down. “It’s
Paige. She’s... she’s been hit by a car. Call her father.” She
wanted to shout.

She heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath.
“Lass, I’ll call him, and we’ll come.”

Edwina handed the phone back and put her
hands over her face. They would be here, but how was she going to
look them in the eye? She had not been careful and Paige had ridden
off all alone while she was on the phone talking. She should have
called them to come and watch Paige. Now it was too late.

Alone and terrified, she prayed. Her body was
heavy with sorrow. Terrible thoughts stabbed at her heart and mind.
Would Paige be all right? She wished someone would come and tell
her.

What if...
No, she would not think it and asked God over and
over to spare Paige’s life. She would do whatever He wanted, if
only He would spare the little girl’s life. She felt someone’s
presence and opened her eyes. Two white shoes. Doctor’s shoes. She
couldn’t look up. If she did, she might see . . .