Her Holiday Family. Winnie Griggs
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sister. “Sally passed away three months ago, and Miss Fredrick continued to give her two children a home when I could not.” He would be forever grateful to the woman for taking in Audrey and Albert—goodness knows she was able to give them a better home than he ever could.
A tall bearded man near the back of the church stood. “Have these children been given a Christian upbringing?”
“Absolutely. Miss Fredrick sees that they attend church services regularly and reading from the Bible is part of their daily routine.” He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “And just so you know, they’ve also been taught proper manners and behavior.”
Apparently satisfied, the man sat back down. After a short silence, Reverend Harper stepped forward. “If there are no other questions for Mr. Tucker, we need to discuss his request for temporary lodgings for himself and the children. Is there anyone willing to step up and answer this call?”
To Simon’s relief, a number of hands went up. At least he’d be able to lay that worry aside.
“I can take three or four of them in.”
“I can take two.”
“I can take one.”
“I can take three.”
As the offers came in Simon’s optimism faded. He held up his hand to halt the offers. “That’s mighty generous of you folks, but I’m afraid there’s been a little misunderstanding. I need to keep them all together right now.” The idea of splitting them up brought back unpleasant memories of how he and his sisters had been farmed out all those years ago. But it was more than that. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your very kind offers, but since these children are in my sole care right now, I need to be able to keep an eye on all of them. And separating them when they’re already feeling so anxious about their foster mother is just going to upset them more.”
That announcement was greeted with an uncomfortable silence. What was he going to do if they couldn’t make this work? He’d promised he wouldn’t separate them—he personally knew how wrenching that could be. Even if they all had to sleep on pallets on the floor, it would be preferable to scattering them, especially now when they needed each other.
He tried again. “It’s not as if they each need their own room. They’re used to sharing tight quarters.”
Reverend Harper cleared his throat. “I think we all understand and sympathize with your reasoning, Mr. Tucker, but what you’re asking is a mighty tall order to fill. There are eleven of you, after all.”
The reverend said that as if Simon weren’t already painfully aware of the situation.
But before he could respond, the man continued. “You may have to accept the need to separate them for a few days. We can likely find accommodations for two large groups, but there’s not many households large enough to accept eleven guests for an overnight—”
He paused as if he’d just had an idea, and Simon immediately felt his hope rise. Had the man come up with a solution? Simon was ready to grasp at any straw.
Reverend Harper had looked to the pews on the right-hand side of the church as if seeking someone out. “Unless... Ah, there you are, Mrs. Pierce. Perhaps you would allow us to impose on your generosity?”
Simon followed the minister’s gaze, trying to figure out who he was looking at. Then a slender, blonde woman, dressed in the purple and gray of half mourning, stood. There was something arresting about her. She was taller than the average woman and held herself with an elegant grace, but it was more than that. Aloof, cool, distant—she seemed not so much a part of this gathering as a disinterested observer. Her face seemed expressionless, but her thickly lashed brown eyes seemed to miss nothing.
And yet he sensed something vulnerable about her, a just-below-the-surface fragility that tugged at him.
While her expression gave nothing away, he had the distinct impression this ice queen was not going to go along with the reverend’s verbal arm-twisting happily.
Which didn’t bode well for just how “motherly” she would be toward the children.
* * *
As all eyes in the church turned her way expectantly, Eileen Pierce hid her surprise, maintaining the composed, disinterested pose that was second nature to her.
She had just been thinking how shocked her neighbors, who had ignored or outright snubbed her for the past two years, would be if she volunteered her home. The idea had amused her, almost to the point that she’d been tempted to do it just to see the scandalized looks on their faces.
Almost. Because she hadn’t had any real intention of doing so.
God had seen fit not to give her any children of her own, and she’d come to accept that there was a reason for that—she wasn’t the kind of woman who was cut out to be a mother. She wouldn’t know what to do with one child, much less ten.
But she wasn’t truly surprised that Reverend Harper had turned to her, even though she was persona non grata in Turnabout. After all, she owned the largest house in town, one that could easily accommodate these stranded visitors. But as satisfying as it would be to dispense a bit of noblesse oblige, it wasn’t worth the risk. Opening her doors to so many outsiders would mean exposing how far she’d actually fallen from her days as the wife of the town’s wealthiest and most prominent businessman.
For just a moment, however, she was disconcerted by the way Mr. Tucker looked at her, as if she were his lifeline. She could feel the impact of his intently focused blue eyes from all the way across the room. It had been some time since she’d felt herself the object of such interest. She finally recognized the emotion—he needed her. She couldn’t remember a time when anyone truly needed her. And she wasn’t certain how she felt about it now.
Eileen gave her head a mental shake, refocusing on the current situation. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by such frivolous emotions. Or by a winning smile from a man with intriguing blue eyes and hair the color of rich, loamy soil.
Still trying to figure out how to extricate herself, she gave a nonanswer. “I assume by that question you are asking me to open my home to the entire group.”
Before Reverend Harper or the stranger could speak up, Eunice Ortolon, the town’s most notorious busybody, stood. “Excuse me, Reverend, but while Mrs. Pierce’s home is large enough, surely that shouldn’t be the only consideration.” The woman drew her shoulders back. “While I understand Mr. Tucker not wanting to separate the children, perhaps it would be best to house them in two or three homes with families that are more—” she cut a quick look Eileen’s way “—let us say, accustomed to dealing with children.”
Eileen stiffened. Eunice might as well have used the word suitable—it was so obviously there in her tone.
Ivy Parker, the only other person sharing Eileen’s pew, and the closest thing she had to a friend here, stood up immediately. “As a former boarder of Eileen’s, I can attest to the fact that her home would be the perfect place to house these children—her home is both roomy and welcoming.” She gave Eileen an encouraging smile. “That is, if she feels so led to make the offer.”
Eileen appreciated that Ivy had come to her defense, but now was not the time for everyone to suddenly approve of her. Unfortunately she could see several folks giving her tentative smiles of encouragement.
The urge to give in to her frustration was strong, and Eileen maintained her impassive expression by sheer force of will. She wanted so much to be accepted by the community again, but this was not the way.
Of course there were still those, like Mrs. Ortolon, who looked either hesitant or disapproving.
How in the world could she extricate herself without sounding selfish and uncaring?
And why was she so oddly reluctant to disappoint Mr. Tucker?