When she gave the notes to a new footman to deliver, Houston had her first taste of what was upsetting the servants so badly. The footman seemed to think it was beneath him to go to a coal camp, and, being American, he didn’t hesitate to express his opinion.
Houston very calmly asked him if he wanted his job or not, and, if he did, he was to do what she asked and to not belittle the relatives of the man who was feeding him. When that was settled, and the footman on his way, Houston went downstairs and began sorting out the duties of the other people she’d hired. Most of the people she’d chosen were now sitting on the bare floors, refusing to do anything until they knew exactly the limits of their responsibilities. Houston saw immediately why Miss Jones had strongly recommended that experienced servants be hired.
By the morning of the second day, Houston had seven maids cleaning the house, four footmen bringing furniture down from the attics, and three assistants helping Mrs. Murchison in the kitchen. Outside, she had a coachman, two stableboys, and four young, strong-backed boys to help in the gardens.
It was while she was i
n the garden introducing herself to Mr. and Mrs. Nakazona and trying to explain to them as best she could, since neither spoke the other’s language, that the boys were to be under the Japanese family’s rule, that she saw Ian’s face in an upstairs window.
This morning, while helping her dress, Susan had informed Houston of the awful brawl Rafe Taggert had caused after the wedding guests left. Susan had just happened to hear some of it. Young Ian had boasted that he hated his cousin Kane and would never live in his house. Rafe had said that it was an empty boast since no one had asked Ian to live there. Ian’d said that Houston had but he’d die before he accepted.
It was at that point that Rafe and Ian had had the fight, which the larger Rafe easily won. Rafe’d said Ian was going to stay with his cousin and receive all the benefits that money can buy, even if Rafe had to beat Ian every day for the rest of his life, and he’d said he’d find Ian if he tried to run away.
So, for the last few days, Ian had been holding himself prisoner in the room where Houston had left him. Mrs. Murchison had been the only one to see him when she took trays of food and books to him.
“Books?” Houston’d asked.
“The boy seems to love them,” Susan said. “Mrs. Murchison says he reads all day long and that it isn’t good for him. She thinks he should join the boys’ baseball team and get outside some.”
Now, when Houston had most of the other people under control, she turned her thoughts to Ian. If the boy was going to live with them, he was going to be part of their family.
Upstairs, she knocked on his door and, after several minutes, he told her to come in. From his flushed face, Houston had an idea he was hiding something, and she thought she saw the edge of a book sticking out from under the bed.
“You’re back,” he said as if it were an accusation.
“We returned yesterday,” she said, and was sure he knew that. “Do you like your room?”
The big, light, airy room was twice as big as the Taggert house at the mine camp, but there was no furniture in it except for a bed covered with a dirty blanket—evidence of Ian having lain on it for days.
“It’s all right,” Ian mumbled, looking at the toe of his heavy work boot.
The Taggert pride. Houston thought. “Ian, could you help me this afternoon? I have four men lined to help me arrange furniture, but I think I’m going to need a supervisor, someone to make sure that they don’t hit the edges on the doors as they bring it down, that sort of thing. Could you help me?”
Ian hesitated, but he agreed.
Houston was curious as to how Ian’d handle his new responsibility, and she was sure he’d be a little tyrant. But he surprised her. He was careful, observant, and very serious. Only at first, when he used his size and adolescent strength to establish his authority, did he show any anger. By late afternoon, he was so completely in control that Houston merely had to point to where she wanted a piece of furniture placed.
She was watching Ian with amazement, as he skillfully guided a large desk down the main staircase, when Edan spoke from behind her.
“Kane was like that. People like those two have never been children. Your footmen sense that, and that’s why they’re willing to obey a kid.”
She turned to face him. “Do you know how to play baseball?”
Edan’s eyes sparkled. “Sure do. You thinking of starting a team?”
“I almost have enough men. I think I’ll call Vaughn’s Sporting Goods and order some equipment. You think I could learn to hit a ball with that stick?”
“Houston,” he said, as he turned back toward Kane’s office, “I think you could do anything you set your mind to.”
“Dinner at seven,” she called after him. “And we dress for dinner.”
She could hear Edan’s laughter as he went back to the office.
The meal was pleasant and Edan’s quiet patience with Ian seemed to melt some of the boy’s tense anger.
But the next day was different. When it was time for dinner, Houston was dressed in pale green silk faille with a green net overlay embroidered with cut-steel bugle beads, a large pink cameo at her waist. She hadn’t seen Kane since he’d returned that afternoon, and he hadn’t changed out of the heavy work clothes he’d worn on his business trip. But she wasn’t about to start an argument with him. Let him come to the table and be the only one in his dirty canvas.
Edan, looking strikingly handsome in his dark dinner clothes, was waiting for her at the head of the stairs, and Ian, wearing one of Edan’s new suits that was only a little too big, was standing in a shadow of the hallway.