“Who’s she?” Luke held tightly to his brother’s hand.
“She’s my stepmother.” Turning to the group huddled together, still staring at their guest, she said, “Boys, go on out and get your chores done.”
Angel jiggled Julia-Rose as she started to fuss. “I have to change the baby’s diaper. I’ll get us some tea when I come back.”
“Please hurry, dear.” Sylvia laid a delicate hand to her head. “I feel quite faint.”
Grumbling, Angel proceeded upstairs to the bedroom they’d fixed up for Julia-Rose, and changed her. She was still numb from the shock of seeing Sylvia on her front porch. Heck, not the front porch, she’s right now in my parlor, surrounded by trunks. And wanting tea, for heaven’s sake.
After returning downstairs, Angel set the baby in her play area, and wiping her hands on her apron, joined Sylvia in the kitchen. She cleaned off the table from the boys’ snack, and set out tea things. Then she put water on to boil, and, not anxious to face her stepmother yet, kept busy washing the snack plates and cups. Then she stirred the pot of stewed chicken for supper.
Once the tea was ready, Angel sat and watched Sylvia take a sip of the warming liquid and close her eyes with pleasure. Shaking her head in confusion, she said again, “What are you doing here?”
Sylvia took another delicate sip, and set her cup down. She looked Angel in the eye and took a deep breath. “I’ve come to live with you, Angelina.”
Nate returned the last of his tools to the shelves, wiped his workbench, and hung the “closed” sign on the front door of his shop. He whistled as he worked, his eyes twinkling at the thought of his chaotic family waiting for him at home. With the boys back in school, Angel seemed to get more done, and she was proud of that. He was proud of her no matter how much she did. Her adjustment from her old life to her new one continued to astound him.
He closed and locked the door and headed for home. He hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he heard his name called.
“Nate.” Lucy hurried to him.
“Good evening.” He continued to walk.
She took two steps for his every one to stay with him. In no time she was flushed and panting.
“Slow down, Nate,” Lucy gasped. “I want to talk to you for a minute.”
He stopped, and crossed his arms across his chest. It annoyed him that she continued to pursue him, and he was anxious to get home. He
looked forward to seeing only one woman right now, and it wasn’t this one.
“You don’t have to look so stern.” She laughed, and ran her tongue around her mouth. “I’m not going to bite you.” She gave him a bright smile. He didn’t smile back.
“I’m late for supper, what do you want?” He dropped his arms and walked on, but slower.
“It’s been so long since I saw you. It seems every time I come to your shop, you’re busy with a customer. I’d like to know what you thought of my party,” she whined.
“It was very nice. Angel and I enjoyed it. I’m sure she sent you a note.”
Lucy scowled, but quickly recovered. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s too bad she didn’t have a fashionable dress to wear. But then, none of the women had anything to compare to my dress, which I had designed in Paris. It is the absolute latest in fashion.”
Nate threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Two red spots appeared on her cheeks. “If there’s a joke there, I’m afraid I fail to see it.”
Shaking his head, Nate regarded her. “Lucy, let it go.” With that, he turned, and still chuckling, dodged a horse and carriage to cross the street, then strode toward home.
Let it go, indeed.
Not with all she’d done so far. Nathan Hale had become her obsession. Never had Lucy been denied anything she wanted, and she wanted him.
She entered the small building next to the barbershop, and climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor. The small piece of paper in her hand had been folded and unfolded many times. As she wandered the hallway, she compared the writing on the paper to the various names printed on each door.
Finally spotting the door that said, “Moses McNeil, Investigations,” she turned the doorknob and walked in.
The office had probably been painted at one time, but age had dimmed it to an unrecognizable color. A scarred wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, with two unstable wooden chairs in front. Stacks of papers, scattered all over the desk, added to its ugliness. She took barely two steps before her eyes watered from the thin line of gray smoke rising from a smoldering cigar in a small china dish.
A beady-eyed man stared at her as she entered. Definitely someone Lucy would never consider even speaking with if her future wasn’t at stake. His bushy eyebrows rose, no doubt surprised to see a lady of quality in his office. Lucy winced at the evil looking scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. Brown teeth showed through his plastered smile.