Her patchwork family, p.15
Her Patchwork Family, page 15
“Felicity.” Her given name was off his tongue before he could call it back.
She glanced up and one of those blazing smiles burst over her face.
He walked in, feeling the pull toward her and for once, not resisting it. “Do you think we might actually have an uninterrupted conversation?” he teased.
The smile sparkled now, bathing him with the warmth of sunshine. He moved to the chair next to her, not across from her. He wanted nothing between them today. “I came to go over the rough draft of my letter to the senators and representatives in the state legislature. I wanted to know what you might want me to add. The legislators are back in session for two weeks.”
She glowed in the dim afternoon sunlight. “Wonderful. What shall we—”
The sound of heavy footfalls stopped her. She looked past Ty. The builder appeared at the door. “Miss, I’m going to have to drive to the lumber yard to see if our order for more quarter-sawn oak for the floors and trim has been finished.”
“Excellent,” Felicity said. The man hurried away.
Ty thought about closing the door, but of course that would be most improper. The subtle scent of roses came to him from the lady. He drew it in. “I wrote a rough draft last night. I need some information that I know you must have—” he grinned at her “—committed to memory.”
“Indeed?” Her glimmering smile turned mischievous.
He loved that quality in her—as if she still retained some of the fresh joy of childhood. He pulled a few folded pages from his pocket. He smoothed them out and then sat back and began reading, “Dear Senator, I am the justice of the peace for Altoona. Prior to the war, I acted as a circuit court judge. As I go about my duties, I am often powerless to rule in a manner I think best for delinquent children under the age of reason…” He read to the end.
“That is an excellent letter, Ty.” She reached for it and their hands touched. Neither of them moved. The air around them became charged. He closed his hand over hers. The letter fluttered to the desk and Ty could hardly breathe.
Extricating her hand, Felicity picked up the dropped letter and gazed at it. Within seconds, her prim façade had been put back into place.
He took a deep breath, trying to reestablish their usual rapport. It wasn’t easy. “I was thinking that it might be advisable to prick their vanity.”
“Vanity?” She gave him a measuring look.
He was careful to sit up straight again, not lean toward her. “Yes, I thought we might mention what is being done in other states and even England. I think that our state representatives won’t want to be thought backward.”
“Ah.” She nodded, grinning.
He loved the quick intelligence she always showed. “So why don’t you tell me more about those women you’ve mentioned? I can’t remember their names.”
“Mary Carpenter and Elizabeth Fry.” A sudden extra-bright shaft of sunlight gleamed on her wayward curls, which had pulled free of her plain, tight bun. Ty tried to look away.
“You said we should include our own Dorothea Dix. So the representatives will have a precedent for action. The problem, of course, is that special treatment for children will necessitate the raising of funds through taxes for—what did you call them?”
“Reformatories.” She tapped the end of her ink pen against her lips as if prodding her thoughts.
Silence settled between them, quiet and companionable, nothing like any moment he’d ever spent with Virginia, who had always been playing one of three parts: injured party, trusting maiden or her most accomplished role, shrew. He pulled his mind back to the present, recalling the very first time Felicity had come to his house. His daughter had sensed Felicity’s sincere goodness and had gone to her willingly. I should have realized then how special this woman is.
Felicity continued tapping the pen tip against her soft lips.
Ty leaned forward, fascinated by her perfectly shaped mouth. Fascinated by this woman whose every thought was to help others. Such a tender heart he’d rarely known. “Felicity,” he whispered. Her eyes connected with his as if she could not look away. His hand drifted up and he brushed her cheek. Once. Twice.
His mouth was dry. He cupped her chin with his open palm. He waited, expecting her to pull away or shake her head. Yet she stayed still, very still, watching. He leaned closer, closer. He couldn’t breathe. He pressed his lips to hers. Soft. Exhilarating. Heavenly.
The front door banged open. They jerked apart. “Miss! Miss!” The familiar voice of Donnie echoed in the hall and was joined by Johnny’s. “Miss Fesisity! Miss Fesisity!”
Ty leapt up just before the two little boys shot into the room. They crowded around Felicity. “We got peppermints! The man at the store gave us peppermints!”
Midge hovered in the doorway and curtsied. “We were walking through town and the man at the general store came out and gave the boys each a peppermint drop.”
Both boys thought that this was the signal to stick out their tongues streaked with red. “See?” Donnie helpfully pointed to his tongue.
Felicity shook with laughter. “Peppermint tongues! How sweet!” She clapped her hands.
Giggling, Midge captured two wrists, one from each of the sticky-handed boys, and shepherded them out. Donnie turned back. With his free hand, he waved at Ty. “Hi!”
Ty waved back at him, unable to do more than that. He was still reeling from the kiss he had bestowed upon Felicity, unsure what to do or say next. When he finally looked back at her, he noted the pink rising up in her pale face. He took every ounce of strength he had not to lean over and kiss the beautiful Felicity again.
Chapter Nine
If possible, Felicity could have shrunk to the size of a white button mushroom. She had just let Tyrone Hawkins kiss her. No one had ever kissed her before. At twelve, Gus had tried and been sternly rebuked. And he’d never tried again—even when he proposed marriage. What was I thinking? Felicity realized that she was trembling.
She sat down in her chair and folded her hands to keep him from seeing them shake. The rigid wood of her desk chair forced her to sit up straight, reassuring her that she was still a mature and intelligent woman, a woman of strict principles. A woman who never planned to marry and did not engage in flirtation.
Felicity tried to still her inner mutiny and draw breath normally. “Your suggestions are very apt. I will write you a list of reformers here and abroad, and what measures other states and England are taking toward dealing with youthful offenders.”
“Fine. Excellent,” he said, sounding distracted. Flustered. He sat down where he had been before the boys—so fortunately—interrupted them. “And I’ve already made a list of everyone in Illinois who might be influential or favorably disposed toward these changes.”
Reading the signs of his own discomfiture, she hoped that he was just as shocked as she. If so, this…amazing, astonishing kiss, no, this lapse of decorum wouldn’t be repeated. Even as she thought these words, she felt her face increase in temperature. Her face must be bright crimson now. But she could not be sorry. I have been kissed by a wonderful man.
Both of them kept their focus studiously on the list of names he was showing her. But before Felicity’s eyes, the letters jigged up and down. She couldn’t stop her inner shaking, the heady sensation.
Then she heard a door slam with unusual vehemence. She rose. What now? “Please, thee must excuse me. I don’t allow door slamming in the house.” He rose out of courtesy. She reached the door and halted there. “Jack, I didn’t know you were here.”
The older man came up the hall toward her, looking upset. “Miss Gabriel, I dropped by to give a message to Vista.”
“Oh?” Felicity tried to read more from his somber expression.
“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.” He stopped and stood, bending his hat with both hands.
“What has happened, Jack?” she asked. “I heard a door slam.”
“That was Vista. I give her the message and she just turned and ran into her room and slammed the door.”
“What kind of message was this, Jack?” Felicity asked, her mind whirling with possibilities.
Jack did more damage to his cloth hat. “You see, I been meaning to go down to the jail and visit the man who they say started your fire.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the house where the carpenters still pounded nails and sawed boards. “But with one thing and another, I didn’t get there till today.”
“Why did you want to visit him?” Ty asked.
Jack looked over at him. “Hello, Judge, sorry I didn’t see you there. I went because I thought he might need help. Our congregation doesn’t have much money but we’d try to help, you know. And my granddaughter Midge told me he wasn’t a rough man, but a polite one. So I went to see him.” Jack pursed his lips and then said, “The man told me his name and asked me if I knew a woman of color by the name of Vista.”
“Vista?” Felicity parroted Jack, tingling with unpleasant surprise.
“Yes, miss. I didn’t want to disappoint the man. So I came straight here and talked to Vista in the kitchen. I told her that this man wanted to see her. That’s why he came to Altoona and asked for the Barney house. He said that he’d heard that she was working for Mrs. Barney. When I told Vista his name, I was afraid she’d faint. I took her arm but she pulled away and ran into her room and slammed the door.”
When Jack fell silent, Felicity stared at him. Vista had run away and slammed her door?
“The man gave you his name?” Ty asked. “He wouldn’t give it to the police. Why would he give it to you?”
Jack began to rotate his hat brim within his hands. “He said he been waiting for them to let him go. He didn’t want to be known to have been in jail before he got to talk to Vista again.”
Felicity questioned, “What did thee think of this man, Jack?”
“I think he’s an honest man, miss.”
Felicity nodded thoughtfully. “I am of the same opinion. When I saw him that day he appeared frightened and sad, not defiant and guilty.”
“You can tell if a man’s guilty by just looking at him?” Ty said skeptically.
“Not always. But much can be read from a man’s stance and in his eyes,” Felicity replied.
Ty didn’t look as if he believed this, but she couldn’t let that sway her.
“Perhaps I should go to Vista.” Felicity looked to Jack for advice.
“That’s why I came to get you, miss.” Jack stopped mangling his hat.
Felicity nodded decisively. “Do not worry, Jack. Thee has done right, not wrong. I thank thee.” She turned to Ty.
The full force of his effect on her gusted against her like a blast of wind. She clung to her self-control. “I must bid thee good day, Tyrone.”
“I understand.” He paused, looking confused. “I will take what we have worked on and I’ll bring another draft. May I?”
“Please. I am very pleased with our progress and thy support.” She knew she should offer him her hand, but she couldn’t risk that. Touching him might undo her.
Ty hesitated, glancing at Jack and Felicity. Then he excused himself.
“Miss, the prisoner told me I could tell you his name, as well as Vista.”
She heard Ty close the front door behind him. “What is his name?” she asked, shrugging away her sudden sense of loss.
“Charles Scott.” Jack bobbed his head, donned his hat and departed without another word.
Felicity stood alone in her den, listening to the voices of Donnie and Johnny, who must have gone outside to play. This day had dawned like any other. Nonetheless, it had turned into an extraordinary day. Tyrone Hawkins had kissed her.
Felicity gripped the edge of the pocket door to steady herself. Center herself. She closed her eyes and prayed, “Holy Spirit, guide me. Show me the way Thee wants me to go.” She whispered that to herself several times. A measure of composure returned.
Her first inclination was to go to Vista and try to talk to her. But she hadn’t lived with Vista these past months without realizing that her housekeeper was an intensely private woman. No, she would let Vista come out when she felt she could face others again.
Felicity walked to the kitchen. Midge was just finishing shaping the yeast dough into six loaves of bread. “Midge, thee is taking over the kitchen while Vista is indisposed?”
“Yes, miss. I thought I better.” The young woman looked confused and worried.
Felicity patted her shoulder. “We will not bother Vista. When they come home, I will watch the children. Does thee think thee can go on with preparing supper?”
“Yes, miss. We’re just having the soup here in the pots and bread.”
Felicity nodded her thanks and patted Midge’s shoulder once more. “We will do what is in our power and let God take care of the rest.”
Midge assented to this and began putting the loaves in the buttered pans.
Felicity walked to the back door and went outside to give Donnie and Johnny a few moments of attention.
Ty’s unbelievable kiss lingered on her lips. She fought the urge to touch them—as if touching them would make the kiss feel real. Ty Hawkins kissed me. And this had opened a door to completely new and radical feelings. She glanced at the window of Vista’s room.
Yet in spite of this lightness, her heart was heavy for Vista. What had driven her into her room?
The next morning a subdued Vista came out of her room and cooked breakfast and went about her duties. She offered no explanation for her absence the day before. And uncertain what was best, Felicity asked for none. What had brought about this marked change? Should Felicity intervene or continue to give Vista her privacy?
Vista appeared to have retreated within herself. She went about her duties but no smile touched her mouth or eyes. Even the children became serious in her presence. They were no doubt accustomed to her giving them orders and urging them to eat more. Her silence had communicated itself to the children, who went quietly off to school without the usual last-minute hectic rush to find papers and books.
Felicity walked to her den and sat at her desk. Her mind was quickly overwhelmed with the memory of Ty’s kiss here in this room just a day ago. She pressed fingertips to her mouth. She felt the touch of his lips on hers. Closing her eyes, she savored the remembrance. If one was going to get only one kiss in a lifetime, was it better or worse that the kiss had the power to shake, tempt her?
She rose without any answer. I can’t sit here. I have work to do. She marched to the hall tree in the foyer and put on her bonnet and gloves. She let herself out the door and crept down the steps—she wanted to walk to town, not be driven by Abel. With a wave to the carpenters, she scurried down the street. Soon she was approaching the jail, a place she didn’t really want to go. But if Vista refused to reveal why she was upset, perhaps the prisoner would.
She stepped inside and approached the desk where a man sat, reading the morning newspaper. “Good morning.”
The young officer dropped the paper to the desk and sprang to his feet. “Ma’am, what may I do for you?”
“I’ve come to visit a prisoner. The man who is accused of burning the Barney house. If thee pleases.”
“You’re that Quaker woman.”
She nodded.
He stared at her as if trying to make up his mind.
“Prisoners may receive visitors, may they not?” she asked.
“Yeah, I mean, yes, ma’am.” Still, he made no move to take her to the man.
“Will thee please take me to the prisoner?” She looked around at the barred windows and row of rifles hung on the wall.
“Ladies don’t usually come to the jail,” the young man stammered.
“No doubt thee is correct, but I am a lady who does unusual things.” She smiled. “Please.”
Shaking his head, he reached for a large ring with two keys. He waved her to precede him through the door to the inner hall, the keys clanking. “Now, ma’am, you can’t give the prisoner anything we haven’t looked at first. And you can’t touch him. You just got to stand outside the cell. And I got to stand back and watch you.”
“As thee wishes,” she agreed. This was her first visit to a jail, though her father had gone to the nearby jail whenever he could to minister to the prisoners. She was pleased to see that everything here was clean and neat.
“Hey, you, stand up,” the jailer called out. “This lady is visiting you, so watch your manners.”
The prisoner rose from the bare cot where he sat. He approached the bars with caution.
“Good morning to thee.” She greeted him with what she hoped was a warm smile.
“You’re the lady Midge told me about.” Holding the bar with both hands, he studied her.
She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “I hear that thee came to town to visit someone who lives at my house.”
He nodded.
“Can thee tell me anything else?” she asked.
He gripped the bars more tightly. “No, ma’am. This is a private matter.”
She nodded. “I will send Midge again with more food. Does thee need anything else?”
“No, ma’am, I thank you,” he said.
Felicity bubbled with unasked questions. But here in front of this guard, she didn’t feel comfortable in trying to pry from this man what he did not want known. She bid him farewell and allowed herself to be escorted out to the office area.
The police chief walked in, halting at sight of her. “Miss Gabriel?”
She nodded and offered him her hand. And hoped he wouldn’t ask her any questions.
“What brings you here, miss? Did you finally decide that our prisoner is the one who broke into your house?”
“No, I did not. I do not think I will ever be able to make that identification. I just came to see him for myself now that I am better. I must bid thee good day.” She smiled and walked out, thankful that gentlemen could not insist on answers from ladies. She walked briskly down the wooden sidewalk, wondering at this new puzzle.
