скачать книгу бесплатно
Without bothering to put the ledger back in the desk, he hurried to the front entry and donned his coat, hat and gloves. He could help Anna and her mother after all.
Chapter Three
“Don’t worry,” Ma said with a pat to Anna’s arm. “The Lord will provide.”
Anna bit back a growl of frustration and rose from the kitchen table, the eviction letter in her hand. She’d spent yesterday evening and all morning trying to get her mother to commit to leasing a room at either Terchie’s Boardinghouse or above the drugstore, but Ma would not settle for less than a house.
“For the hundredth time, we can’t afford a house. If you won’t decide, then I will. We’re moving to Terchie’s, and that’s that.”
She crumpled the vile letter, and tossed it into the stove’s firebox.
Ma looked up from her grocery list. “Should you have done that, dearest?”
Though Ma had explained that Brandon’s father was the one who’d sold the house, Anna couldn’t forgive Brandon. He could have renegotiated or done something to change the outcome. After all, he was rich. Instead, he was forcing them from their home at Christmastime.
“We only have twelve days.” Anna laughed bitterly at the irony. “The twelve days of Christmas, only instead of receiving gifts, we’ll sell our belongings.”
“Why on earth would we do that?”
“Because they’ll never fit into a boardinghouse room.”
Pans and dishes filled the kitchen cupboards. Every closet contained linens and clothes and coats and galoshes. And that didn’t even include the attic. Ma had never thrown out Papa’s things. She’d packed them into trunks, which then went into the attic. None of it would fetch more than pennies, but they couldn’t take it with them.
“We’ll hold a sale this Saturday,” Anna stated. “It will be a lot of work, but we can use the money. We’ll put everything we can lift into the living room, and Hendrick and Peter can move the rest.”
“Slow down, dearest. There’s no need to get rid of anything. We have plenty of time to find a house. Besides, this coming Saturday is just two days before Christmas. We can’t hold a sale then.”
“Yes, we can. It’s the perfect time.”
“But you can’t mean to sell your father’s gifts.”
Anna choked back tears at the thought of parting with the dolls Papa had given her, but they didn’t have room for sentimental treasures. “Maybe someone who can’t afford new toys this year can get something from us.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “It’s time a little girl used my old dolls. I won’t be having children anytime soon.”
“Oh, my darling girl. All things in good time. There’s no need to sacrifice your dolls just yet. If we don’t find a house right away, perhaps Mariah and Hendrick will keep them for us at the orphanage.”
“Maybe,” Anna mumbled, ashamed she hadn’t thought of that solution. “The girls there could enjoy them.” She wiped her tears on her sleeve. “But there are still the rest of our things. They won’t fit into a single room.”
“Have patience. There’s no need to lease a room just yet,” Ma insisted. “The Lord will provide exactly what we need.”
“What and how? Tell me exactly, because I don’t see it.”
“Through faith.”
“Faith?” Anna pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead. “Faith is fine, Ma, but God expects us to act. We need to leave this house in twelve days. That’s a fact. We haven’t leased another place to stay. That’s another fact. I don’t see a grand house out there with our name on the signpost, and even if there was, we couldn’t afford it. No, we have to rent a room. Terchie’s Boardinghouse is the best option. If something comes up later, we can move again.”
Ma’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t we wait a bit?”
“No, we can’t. Nor can we expect Hendrick and Mariah to house all our belongings. The orphanage is overfull as it is, and the factory is still under construction. Neither has room for old pots and pans. We’ll hold a sale.”
Ma’s hand shook as she lifted a tin soldier from the shelf above the table. From Anna’s favorite doll to Papa’s anniversary gifts to Ma, this shelf traced a lifetime of memories. The toy soldier’s paint had flecked off long ago. “Your father gave this to your brother on his seventh birthday—before you were born,” Ma mused. “He saved every penny so he could buy it. Hendrick loved this soldier. He should have it.” She cupped the toy in the palm of her hand. “Your brother wanted to join the war, but I was so grateful they wouldn’t let him enlist.” Tears misted her eyes.
Now she’d done it. Anna hadn’t meant to make her mother cry.
“I’m sorry, Ma.” Anna wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders.
“Good memories.” Ma kissed the top of her head. “I pray you find as wonderful a man as I did.”
Ma still missed Papa terribly, even after so many years. “I don’t think there’s anyone as wonderful as Papa.”
“I’m sure there is. He’d be good and caring. He’d value honor and integrity, and he’d love you above all but God.”
For a moment, Anna allowed herself to sink into girlish dreams. “And he’d be handsome.”
Ma stroked her hair. “Of course he would be. Take Mr. Brandon, for example. He’s quite handsome.”
Anna pulled out of her mother’s arms. “No, he’s not.” Though she could hardly take her eyes from him, she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially since he’d proven heartless and cruel. “His nose is too large.”
“It’s perfectly proportioned.”
“His eyes are too close together.”
“I found them quite nicely spaced. Deep blue too.”
“Not blue. They’re gray.”
“Ah,” Ma said softly, “I must have been mistaken. But you can’t deny he carries himself well. So strong and commanding.”
“He limps and has to use a cane.”
Ma clucked her tongue. “Anna Marie, that’s unkind. He suffered an injury. Why, as a boy he ran around like any other child. He must have been hurt in the Great War. That’s something to respect, not turn your nose up at.”
“But he doesn’t respect us.” An angry tear rolled down her cheek. She could forgive his infirmities but not his actions. “If he really cared, he wouldn’t evict us from our home.”
“Hush, dear. He is simply doing what he must. We are tenants and have no claim on this house. I always knew this day might come.”
“You did?”
Ma looked off into space, lost in the past. “Your father sold this property and his portion of the business to Brandon’s father years ago. I’m afraid your papa wasn’t a very good businessman.” Ma smiled softly. “But I loved him still. He had a heart of gold, would give to anyone who asked for help, even if they didn’t deserve it. I’m afraid some took advantage of him.”
“Like Mr. Landers.”
Ma shook her head. “Mr. Landers was simply doing what any businessman would do. Don’t blame others for our own faults.” She ran a finger down Anna’s cheek, wiping dry the track of a tear. “Your father knew that riches in this life did not matter.”
Anna wasn’t so sure. A decent income would get them out of this predicament. “What about Mr. Thompson? Maybe he can help us. Didn’t he own part of the business?”
Ma shook her head. “When your father and Mr. Thompson started the garage, your papa took out the loan for both properties. Mr. Thompson worked for him. He never owned a share of the business, even though your father called him a partner.”
Anna’s heart sank. Was there no way they could keep the house?
“Sales weren’t too brisk that first year. Before long your father began to miss loan payments. The bank held off foreclosing until your father could find investors. The only man willing to invest was Percival Landers, Brandon’s father. If not for him, we wouldn’t have had this house and the garage for all these years.”
“Brandon’s father owned the garage too? Did he sell that? Is Hendrick out of work?”
“Both properties sold,” Ma said, “but the new owner wants to keep the garage open.”
At least her brother would have an income until the factory turned a profit. “I still don’t understand why we have to leave. You would think the new owner would want the rental income.”
Ma sighed. “Percival Landers charged a very low rent.”
“Are you saying he gave us charity?”
“Mr. Landers treated us with Christian kindness, especially after your father’s death. I can’t count the times he helped Hendrick keep the garage going. You can’t blame him for selling the property.”
Anna could. Ma might call it Christian kindness, but it didn’t sound like it to her. No wonder Hendrick wanted to strike out on his own. No wonder he wanted to make a go of it with his factory. At least he could call it his.
“We’re poor.” Though she’d always known it, saying the word stung.
“No, dearest. We’re richer than the wealthiest man alive, for we have each other and we have God’s love.”
Anna did not point out that the richest man on earth might also have a family and love God.
Ma offered a gentle smile. Despite losing the love of her life when Papa died, she’d never spoken a word of regret. She gave to all who needed consoling and spent many hours at bedsides and baking for the bereaved.
How blessed Anna was to have her for a mother. She bit her lip to stem the tears, but a sniffle escaped nonetheless. If Ma could stay positive, so could she. “Then we’ll be the richest people at Terchie’s.”
Ma laughed, her cheeks rounding, and Anna couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, some way, they’d survive.
“I love you, Ma, and I’m sorry for getting upset.”
“I know, dearest, and I’m sorry I—” A sharp rap on the front door interrupted her midsentence. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” Anna pulled herself to her feet. A hundred worries bounced through her head, but this time she wouldn’t let them take root. “I’ll see who it is.”
She opened the front door. There stood Brandon Landers, his gray eyes dark and his expression unreadable. She flushed at the sight of his perfectly proportioned nose and nicely spaced eyes.
“Miss Simmons.”
“Mr. Landers.” She ducked her head to hide her reddening cheeks. Why was she reacting this way? He was the enemy.
“Is your mother here?”
He looked into her eyes just for a second, but that single glance did her in. Every thought fled her mind.
“Mr. Brandon,” Ma said as she wiggled beside Anna. “It’s so good to see you again. Would you like to come in?”
“No. I think not.” He cleared his throat. “I have a proposition for you.” Again he glanced at Anna. Again her pulse raced. “The Landers property includes a carriage house. Perhaps you’re acquainted with it?”
Anna nodded dumbly. She’d passed by the Landers estate many a time and as a child dreamed of stepping inside the house that looked like a castle. The gray stone walls and verdigris roof could have graced an English country house. A fence of stone shrouded the property from view, but she’d climbed that fence as a child and had walked its length, dreaming of one day exploring the pretty little carriage house with its dusty windows and the big old house that simply had to contain secret passages.
Brandon cleared his throat, pulling Anna back to the present. “Good, good. Perhaps you aren’t aware that it contains a small apartment, quite small, smaller than this bungalow and much older, but it might suffice.”
Anna blinked. “Suffice for what?”
“For you. Both of you. You said your brother lives elsewhere.”
“As does Peter, my foster son,” said Ma. “They both live at Constance House.”
He nodded solemnly. “Good. It’s only large enough for two. One bedchamber, a small sitting room and a washroom. Would that be adequate?”
“More than adequate,” Ma bubbled. “We don’t need much space now that my boys are gone.”
Anna stared at her mother. Hadn’t she just claimed the opposite? “Where would we cook our meals?”
“You may use the kitchen in the house. It has a separate entrance.”
“Perfect.” Ma clapped her hands together. “We accept.”
“Good,” he said. “Then it’s settled.”
Anna shook her head, trying to grapple with what he was saying. “You’re offering to lease us your carriage house?”
“Just the apartment and it wouldn’t be a lease.”
Anna dropped her gaze. “We can’t afford to buy.”
“No, you misunderstand me.” He shuffled slightly, placing his weight on the stronger leg. “It seems we each have a need. You need a place to live, and I need a housekeeper. If you are agreeable to the arrangement, I would like to offer you the use of the apartment in exchange for housekeeping services. Two or three times a week should be sufficient.”
Housekeeping? He wanted her to clean his house? When he’d taken her side against Sally, she’d thought he understood how demeaning it was to be a servant. Apparently not. He was just like the rest of the rich people who lived on the hill.
“You want me to clean your house?” Anna sputtered.
He flushed. “Certainly not. That would be highly inappropriate. I was hoping Mrs. Simmons would take the position. You should be able to fit it in around your other work.”
Ma wasted no time agreeing to the plan. “That would be wonderful. Oh, Mr. Brandon, how can we ever thank you? Of course we’ll take it. It’s perfect, isn’t it, Anna?”
Perfect? Living on Brandon Landers’s charity? Living in what must be servants’ quarters? It wasn’t perfect; it was humiliating.
“No, thank you,” Anna said stiffly. “We can’t accept. It’s quite out of the question.”
“But Anna,” Ma said.
She couldn’t stand to even look at the man. First he had forced Ma and her from their home, and now he wanted to make them his servants. How dare he?
Without a word more, she slammed the door in his face.
Ma gasped, but Anna couldn’t let her mother’s desire for a larger home put them into servitude.
“I’m sorry, Ma. But we can’t live there. It’s not right.”
