What really held Chance’s attention were the pictures. They were of the smiling and happy group of people who now lived in the house. There were even a couple of pictures of him and Abigail as children. Here he had been part of a family and hadn’t even known it. Abigail had not abandoned him.
Her husband and children joined them for a while but slowly drifted away as if they were giving him and Abigail a chance to talk.
“Chance, I’m so glad you are here. I have missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” To his amazement he meant it.
“I’m sorry we’ve been so distant for so long. I wished it had been different.”
He did too, but couldn’t admit it out loud.
“I should have done better as the older sister in keeping in touch. I shouldn’t have given up. You are my family.”
She had cared. Abigail had carried a burden as well. “There wasn’t anything you could have done. That was on me.”
“When you came home from school at Christmas you were so different. I couldn’t seem to reach you any more. After Daddy died you just never came around again. It was like you blamed me as well as Dad for sending you away.”
He had. His mother had been gone. His father hadn’t wanted him and his sister had said she couldn’t take him. There had been nothing secure in his life and he’d wanted nothing to do with her betrayal.
“I wish I could have made it different for you. Fixed it so you could stay with me, but Daddy would have none of it. He said I was too young to see about you and that you were going to learn to behave. That sending you off to school was the way to do it. I fought for you but he wouldn’t let you stay.”
All this time Chance had believed she hadn’t wanted him around. Had blamed her.
“Those weren’t happy years for me either and I know they weren’t for you. I hated that we were separated. I hated more that you wanted nothing to do with me. After a while I didn’t know how to bridge the gap. Then you wouldn’t let me and I stopped trying.”
“Part of that is my fault.”
“Then let’s just start here and go forward. Promise me we’ll see each other often. After all, we are family.”
Family. That sounded good. “You have my word.”
“We’ll see you at Christmas.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“I’ll be here.”
“Chance, you may not want to talk about this but I just want to let you know that I saved your half of the inheritance for you. It’s been in the bank, waiting on you.”
He would never have thought he would be interested in the money but he knew where he could put it to good use. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I would’ve never felt right about keeping it.”
After his evening with Abigail and her family Chance saw his past and his sister in a different light. Had he been unjust in his view of Ellen too?
Could he humble himself and beg enough to convince her he loved her and would never let her go again? He could if that was what it took to rid himself of the unceasing ache for her.
CHANCE PULLED AT his tux jacket. He didn’t make a habit of dressing up in one and he knew why. They were uncomfortable. Here it was a week before Christmas and he was going to some fancy party. He much preferred a T-shirt and cargo shorts.
He wasn’t fond of a dog-and-pony show but he’d participate in the gala if that was what it took to raise money for the clinic. Tonight’s event in the great hall of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, if successful, should raise enough money to supply the clinic for the next year and give him start-up funds for a permanent building.
What he really wanted to do was find Ellen and beg her to forgive him for being such an idiot. If his sister could welcome him back, maybe Ellen could too. He had a feeling he would have to work harder where Ellen was concerned.
From wealthy and socially known families on both sides, maiden and married, his sister was well connected. To Chance’s shock she’d been on a committee that helped fundraise for the clinic for years. Abby’s group had already had this event planned before he’d called her. She’d asked him to attend and say a few words about his work in Honduras.
The great hall of the Met was already crowded with guests and more were arriving by the time Chance made it there.
“Doesn’t the place look beautiful with all the twinkling lights and the Christmas tree?” his sister said beside him after they had left her wrap and the men’s overcoats at the cloakroom.
Chance was sure he would have been overwhelmed by the event if it hadn’t been for his social training during boarding school. He certainly didn’t attend anything like this in Honduras.
Was Ellen here? If she wasn’t, he would leave to find her.
Chance didn’t see her in the crush of people. He’d had his sister send her and her father an invitation. It wouldn’t be like Ellen not to show up. Despite how she might feel about him, she would be supportive of the clinic. In this environment, he hoped she might be more favorable to listening to him plead for her forgiveness.
A woman who Abigail whispered to him was the head of the fund-raising committee took the stage and asked for the crowd’s attention. She thanked everyone for coming and introduced him, requesting he come forward.
As he spoke he scanned the room. Was she there? Once he thought he saw Ellen but if it was her she’d moved out of sight. He gave his prepared speech, which included sharing about how a visiting doctor had communicated with young girls over fingernail polish, pointing out that the smallest things could make a big difference. Ellen had taught him that. That the work wasn’t just about the grand scale but the small everyday efforts and relationships the clinic was building.
When he had finished, the committee chair returned to the stage. “We have a little something different planned for this evening. We’re going to have the men make a pledge of support in order to dance the first dance with a woman of their choice. Would anyone like to start the pledging?”
There was a soft murmur around the room then a man in the middle of the crowd raised his hand. “I bid a thousand dollars for a dance with my wife.”
“Come on, is that all Margaret is worth?” the committee chair said with a smile. “You can do better than that, Henry.”
“Make it five, then,” the man called.
“That’s better. Please come up and sign your pledge card and escort your partner to the dance floor. Anyone else? Come on, gentlemen, what’s a dance worth to you?”
“I bid five thousand dollars for a dance with Miss Jena Marshall,” called a young man.
“I bid six for the same
