Janet Dean – Courting Miss Adelaide (страница 13)
Carrying a satchel, the woman approached with cautious steps. “Mr. Graves, I’m bringing Emma to you.”
He leaned closer. “Mrs. Drummond?”
“Yes.” Her hand fluttered to the veil. “I’m feeling poorly…since Mama died. Not up to caring for Emma right now.”
“I see.” But he didn’t see at all. “What about William?”
“Ed needs William on the farm. But Emma…” She hesitated. “Emma needs someone to see she eats right and keeps up with her schoolwork, needs someone to braid her hair.” With a gentle touch, she ran work-worn fingers over Emma’s silken plaits. “I hope you might know a good place for her until I’m on my feet.”
Charles saw Mrs. Drummond’s obvious reluctance to let Emma go and her responsibility for Emma shifted to his shoulders.
“I’d be glad to help.” This poor woman carried a heavy load. “I’m sorry about your mother’s…death.”
“I can’t believe she’d…” Her shaky voice trailed off.
Neither spoke the horrifying truth lingering beneath the conversation—suicide. He could imagine Mrs. Drummond’s regrets; guilt for not having seen it coming, for not having done more to prevent such a loss. “Can I do anything else?”
“No.” She bent close to Emma, emitting a soft moan, and then kissed the little girl’s forehead.
Charles took a step closer. “You seem to be in pain.”
“I wrenched my back, but I’ll be fine.” Mrs. Drummond handed Emma the satchel. “Remember what I told you.” The little girl bobbed a promise, her face melancholy. Mrs. Drummond’s fingers skimmed over Emma’s cheeks. “I’ll be going, then.” With a hurried step, she walked out the door, leaving Emma behind.
Emma stared after her until the door closed, then turned to him with sad eyes. Where was his assistant? “Teddy!”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Run to the bank and then on to the superintendent’s office and ask Mr. Sparks and Mr. Paul to come as soon as they can.”
“Sure.” Unspoken questions packed Teddy’s gaze, but he headed out the door.
Charles cleared his throat. “Emma, I’m Mr. Graves.”
She looked back at him, her blue eyes swimming with tears, twisting his innards into a knot. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
He had no idea how to keep his promise.
Tears spilled over her pale lower lashes, becoming visible now that they were wet and spiky. If he didn’t do something, she’d start bawling. The prospect sent him behind his desk. He jerked open the top drawer and rummaged through it until he found what he sought—a bag of peppermints. “When I was a youngster,” he began, “on my way home from school, I’d pass Mrs. Wagner’s house. She’d be rocking on her porch, wearing a gray tattered sweater, no matter how hot the day…”
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