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She went out front with Lila resting against her chest. “I’m glad you’re back. She’s about to nod off.”
“He has.” Mr. Abbott pointed to Luke, asleep on the wagon seat next to him, his head in his father’s lap. “I’ll see if I can get him upstairs without waking him.”
With slow, steady movements, Mr. Abbott extricated himself, gathered Luke in his arms and mounted the stairs. “Come with me please, Miss Grimsby.”
She complied.
Luke didn’t stir as his father carried him to his room and put him to bed. Mr. Abbott rummaged under the rumpled bedding, pulled out a crib-size quilt and laid it next to his sleeping son. “Good night, my boy. May God bless your slumber.” He placed a kiss on Luke’s brow, a gesture so tender that Tess’s lips trembled.
She couldn’t remember anyone ever tucking her in or praying a blessing over her like that. Mr. Abbott might have a serious mien, but he was a caring father.
“Come to Papa, princess.” He took his daughter from Tess and, with a tilt of his head, beckoned her to follow him to Lila’s room.
Mr. Abbott repeated the bedtime routine and launched into a lullaby, his beautiful baritone filling the room. Tess, who loved music but was about as melodic as a mule, marveled at the gift given him. If anyone had told her the stoic stationmaster sang to his children, she wouldn’t have believed it. What a surprising man. She looked forward to learning more about him.
Lila was asleep before her father reached the last verse. He smoothed the sheet over her and placed a small quilt by her side, as he’d done with Luke.
“Your wife’s handiwork I presume?”
“It was the last thing she made. She’d planned to make a quilt for us, too, but...” He released a ragged breath. Tess had a sudden urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder as he gazed at his daughter but stopped herself just in time.
He cast a lingering look at the sleeping girl and turned to Tess, all business once again. “I’ll see to the horses while you’re still here to watch the children. Give me ten minutes, and meet me on the porch.”
“Yes, sir.” He left, and she sank into the cozy rocking chair where Mrs. Abbott had likely nursed the baby. Tess spent a good five minutes listening to the rhythm of the rockers on the wooden floor and drinking in the sight of Lila’s cherubic lips parted as she drew in measured breaths. Lord, if it’s Your plan for me to care for these children, I’d be grateful.
Tess forced herself to leave the nursery. She paused in the doorway of Luke’s room. The sheet Mr. Abbott had spread over his son had become tangled in the short time he’d been in bed. Even in slumber the boy was active.
Luke’s room was strewn with toys, whereas Lila’s was devoid of clutter. Tess would help him clean his, so it would be a pleasant place to play. Not that she could picture him spending much time indoors. He was a boy who needed to get outside and expend some of his abundant energy.
She heaved a wistful sigh, made her way downstairs and busied herself in the kitchen. The parlor clock chimed. A quarter to eight already.
The time had come. She must face Mr. Abbott and find out if her hard work had secured her the position. He’d appreciated the meal. That was clear. But was he willing to welcome another woman into his home and entrust his children to her care—even a competent one such as she?
Tess located him on the porch, his hands resting on the railing, his gaze fixed on some distant point. She’d seen that look on the face of every man she’d worked for, the look of a man surveying his territory, be it his business, his house or his land.
She stood beside him, got a glimpse of his face and fought a wave of nausea. If Mr. Abbott’s scowl was an indication of his thoughts, she’d be on her way back to Sacramento City tomorrow. She didn’t know which would hurt worse—being denied the opportunity to care for adventurous Luke and his adorable baby sister or saying goodbye to their intriguing father.
Chapter Five (#ulink_9b27b02d-7a43-5c85-bae5-30f2fcb99127)
Mr. Abbott spun to face Tess. He caught her staring at his soiled front, where Luke had splatted him with a tomato. “It looks like I’ll be hauling out the washtub after you leave.”
“You’re going to wash your shirt now? Tonight?”
His intention to see to the task himself surprised Tess, but not as much as her desire to tend to it for him. If she did, she’d have another half hour’s work before she could leave and would have to arrive early enough the next day to iron the shirt before he headed to the railway station.
He leaned against the porch railing with his arms and ankles crossed, looking quite appealing—aside from the red splotch in the middle of his chest. She couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Since this was my last clean shirt, I don’t have a choice.” He swept a hand toward the unsightly spot and gave a hollow laugh, but his attempt to lighten the mood couldn’t mask the embarrassment that had left his neck flushed.
The admission hadn’t been an easy one for him. Somehow she’d have to summon the strength needed, because she wasn’t about to let him struggle with a chore sure to be foreign to him. Not when she could make short work of it. “I’ll wash one of your shirts, but not that one. Luke’s going to help me with it.”
Relief flooded his fine features. “I shouldn’t accept your offer since it’s getting late, but I can’t stop myself. The past few weeks have been— Thank you.”
Her heart swelled with sympathy. “You are in need of help, aren’t you?”
“I’ve managed.”
“Yes, but life would be easier if you had someone to see to such things.” Not someone. Her.
“My wife...she made sure I had...” He pressed a fist to his mouth. “I never expected to be in this position.”
“Things will be different, Mr. Abbott. There’s no denying that, but I can ease your burden, provided you’ll let me. You’ve seen that I can cook and clean—and that I won’t let Luke drive the locomotive.”
Her metaphor elicited a smile. A halfhearted one but a smile nonetheless. She’d pushed as hard as she dared. Now to wait for his response.
It came before she had time to take a breath. “You said you could prove your worth in a day, and you’ve done that. The job’s yours—for now. We’ll reevaluate in a month after we’ve had time to see if the situation is agreeable to both of us.”
Relief washed over her. It took great restraint not to shout “Hallelujah!” She’d secured the position. Now to make a personal request. “I realize a housekeeper generally goes by her surname, but in the homes where I served as governess, I was called by my Christian name. I’d prefer that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use your first name?”
“I was thinking of the children. Tess would be easier for them to say.” And she wouldn’t have to answer to Mr. Grimsby’s last name on a daily basis. Every time she heard it she was reminded of the dictatorial orphanage director who’d given it to her when she’d shown up on his doorstep too young and too traumatized to recall hers.
“You make a valid point, so I’ll allow it, provided you’ll call me Spencer.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree so readily, but she was glad he had. Spencer was a fine name, and she would enjoy using it. “Really?” She adopted a playful tone. “I thought a man like you who’s used to being in charge might prefer master or your eminence.” She fought to keep a straight face but lost the battle and laughed.
His eyebrows shot all the way to the ceiling. Perhaps she’d gone too far. He was a grieving widower, after all.
“You certainly have some spice to you, Tess. I do believe you and Luke will get on just fine.” He cast a glance to the west. “It’ll be late before you get to town. I can’t leave the children alone to drive you. Will you be all right walking by yourself?”
“Yes, sir. I mean Spencer.” While she appreciated his concern, she wouldn’t be alone. The Lord was always with her. She would spend the time in prayer. After all, she had much to thank Him for. She’d told Him the desire of her heart, and it seemed He’d heard her. She had a family to care for and looked forward to delightful days ahead as she made a difference in their lives.
Spencer bid her farewell and headed inside, slowly shaking his head and sporting an amused smile.
Was the taciturn gentleman actually laughing? Lord, let it be so. He could use some levity in his life.
* * *
Tess hung the hoe on its pegs in the garden shed and rubbed her lower back. Running a household was harder than she’d thought. Even though she’d been working for Spencer two weeks, she had yet to grow accustomed to the constant juggling required.
The amount of work itself was a challenge, but the isolation made her want to scream. Some adult company would be nice. She saw Spencer at breakfast and again at supper, but their interactions were focused on household matters and the children, which was as it should be. She was his housekeeper, not his friend.
At least she’d get to see Polly while she was in town today. In the meantime she would have to keep Luke from soiling his clothing before she could get the team hitched to the wagon. That boy attracted dirt like a garden attracted critters. The latter problem had been solved by a chicken wire fence. The former seemed a hopeless cause.
She’d had to do some talking before Mr. Abbott agreed to have the fence built. For some reason, he seemed concerned about her working in the garden. She’d had to assure him three times that she would be careful and never leave tools laying on the ground where someone could get hurt. As though she would.
Tess lifted Lila out of the tub she’d set at the side of the garden and headed to the house. Spencer’s dog trotted across the yard. The poor creature was bare in spots, but the salve had done its job, arresting the mange. Once his coffee-colored fur grew back, he’d be a fine-looking fellow. He’d proven to be a good watchdog, alerting her when anything was amiss.
“I’m going to leave Luke in your care.” She patted the dog’s head. “You’ll let me know if he starts to wander off again, won’t you?” She went inside to get ready for the shopping trip.
An hour later Tess sat on the porch of Polly’s small house in downtown Shingle Springs, a glass of lemonade in her hand. Luke darted around the yard in search of insects. Polly’s two-year-old daughter, Abby, did her best to keep up. Lila slept on a blanket near Tess.
Polly rubbed her rounded belly. “I’ve never seen you looking more content. Being a housekeeper agrees with you.”
Tess chuckled. “If you’d been privy to my thoughts earlier, you’d disagree. I’ve gained a whole new respect for mothers with no hired help. How do you fit everything into your days?”
“Caring for a house while keeping two little ones out of trouble is much different than supervising the cultured children of Sacramento City’s elite as we did before, but it’s what you’ve always wanted.”
What she wanted was a family of her own—impossible dream though it might be—not to step into one in the throes of grief, with a woebegone widower and a headstrong four-year-old. But that’s exactly what she’d done. Meeting their needs was proving more difficult than she’d anticipated. Despite her desire to help them heal, she’d made little progress. “I have the situation under control.”
“So I hear. Peter told me he caught Spencer smiling yesterday. When he asked him why, Spencer said he was looking forward to seeing what you’d fixed for supper. Apparently he’s a man who appreciates good food.”
“He does tuck in hearty portions of whatever I put in front of him. The only thing I’ve found that he doesn’t care for is cottage cheese. I asked him to let me know if there’s anything else he doesn’t like, but he just said ‘everything’s fine.’”
Polly shifted in the rocking chair, causing it to creak. “He’s not one for making long speeches, is he?”
Tess laughed. “When I give Spencer a review of the day, I usually get one or two words in reply. If I manage to get five sentences out of him in an evening, I feel like I’ve achieved quite a feat. I can understand his brooding silence, but he seldom interacts with the children, except when he tucks them in at night. That’s so sad. I know fathers have to deal with the demands of their jobs, but their children crave a connection with them.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
Polly patted her arm. “Oh, Tessie, I’m sorry. Whenever I think of your father leaving you at the orphanage, my blood boils. I’ll never understand how a parent could walk away from a child like that, especially one as bright and beautiful as you. What was he thinking?”
“A man can’t raise a child alone.” How many times had she told herself that? But her father hadn’t even attempted it, giving her up the very day her mother had gone to be with the Lord. She’d never heard from him again.
“I know, but he could have found you a home with a family who would love you. Or gotten help like Spencer has.”
Her father didn’t want her. No man did. Not that she could blame them. Even if she wasn’t taller than most of them, she lacked the beauty or charm that attracted men. It seemed her height was the only thing people noticed. Granted, she had six to ten inches on most women, but she wasn’t a circus sideshow freak, although there were days she felt like one.
A sharp cry rang out. Luke had pinned his playmate’s arm behind her.
“Abby!” Polly struggled to stand, but her bulging middle made the task difficult.
Tess leaped to her feet, her long strides carrying her across the yard in no time. “Let go of her this minute, Luke.”
“It’s my ladybug. I saw it first.”
She pried his hands from Abby’s arm, spun him around and dropped to one knee in front of him. “That may be, but you can’t hold her like that. You could hurt her.”
“I didn’t.”
That was true. Abby had flitted away unharmed and was back on the hunt. “You’re right, but you could have. Since you’re older than she is, you can make good choices—like your papa does.”
“What kind of choices does he make?”
“Well, he chose where to live. Where to work. Who to have look after you.”
Luke’s eyes filled with tears, and he swiped a dirty sleeve across them. “I don’t want anyone to look after me. Just my mama. I want her to come back.”
“I know, sweetheart. But she’s gone. You do have your papa, and he loves you very much.” It took all her self-restraint not to pull the brokenhearted boy into her arms. She contented herself by caressing his cheek.
He swatted her hand away. “Don’t touch me!”
“It’s not polite to hit people. You need to sit on the top step until you calm down.”
He sat but bounced right back up and clomped down the stairs.
“Luke,” Tess called.
The rebellious boy spun around. “I’m calm. See?” He gave her a toothy grin.
She hid her answering smile behind her hand. “Very well.”
Polly waited until he was out of earshot. “He’s always been a strong-willed little fellow, but he began acting out after Trudy’s death. You’re good with him, though.”
Tess warmed at the compliment. “I want to show him I care, but he’s built a wall. It will take time to bring it down, but I’ve thought of a way to remove a brick.”
She launched into an explanation of her plan, not stopping until she was done, despite the skepticism on Polly’s face. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re asking for trouble. Spencer isn’t one to embrace change on a good day.”
“I have a valid argument.”
Polly swirled her glass of lemonade. “That may be, but you’d better brace yourself for some resistance.”
She could deal with resistance. She’d overcome it a number of times when approaching her previous employers. They’d come to see things her way—eventually. Spencer was a reasonable man, so surely he’d be willing to consider her proposal.
Chapter Six (#ulink_8f4c3c0a-2e33-5d03-a2d8-f6cf364b6d37)
“Absolutely not.” Spencer couldn’t believe what Tess had suggested. She’d been here all of two weeks, and yet she had the audacity to barge into his office and stick that aristocratic nose of hers where it didn’t belong. He’d come to value her opinions, but she’d gone too far this time.
“If you would allow me to explain...”
He stood behind his desk. She faced him, unflinching. Because of the high heels on her boots, the thick brown braid wound around her crown and that monstrosity of a hat, she had several inches on him. It was too bad he couldn’t wear his top hat indoors.
Although he had no intention of changing his mind, he would hear her out. “Kindly take a seat, and we can discuss this.”
She sat tall and proud. Spencer remained standing and tapped the toe of his boot. The sooner she got to the point, the sooner he could get back to work.
The forthright woman wasted no time stating her case. “I don’t want to leave the children with Polly any longer than necessary, so I’ll be direct. Parting with a loved one’s possessions can be difficult, but it’s a necessary step in the grieving process. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it must be for you to see your late wife’s things every time you open your clothes cupboard.”
“I’m fine.”
“I felt sure you’d say that, but there’s another factor to take into consideration—Luke’s feelings.”
Feelings? Why did women put so much stock in them? He had no desire to discuss his or his son’s. “Leave him out of this.”
She forged ahead as though she hadn’t heard him. “I believe much of his misbehavior stems from the fact that he’s grieving the loss of his mother. If you were to allow him to help me pack up her things and face his loss head on, I feel certain you’d see a change.”
“I’ll have a talk with him and tell him he must regain control of himself.”
