matinee?” She didn’t have any money to bring them, but surely Dr. Orton would give her an allowance to spend on the children’s activities.
Charlie’s eyes lit with excitement. “Could we?”
Marjorie nodded. “I’ll even ask your father to come.”
The excitement disappeared from his gaze. “He won’t take the time to come. Especially now that you’re here to take care of us, and he’s so busy with all the influenza patients.”
Marjorie nibbled on her bottom lip. There had to be a way to get Dr. Orton to have some fun with his children. “You leave your father to me.” She offered him a smile. “Didn’t you have a gift to give me?”
The tops of Charlie’s ears turned red and he brought his right hand out from behind his back. Nestled inside his palm was a dried rosebud. “My mama has a rose garden behind the house. This was from the last bush that bloomed this past summer—before she was sick. Mama and I picked the roses, and she showed me how to hang them upside down to let them dry.”
Charlie extended his hand, and Marjorie gently took the rosebud.
“Charlie—” Her voice caught. “This is a beautiful gift. But are you sure you want me to have it?”
Charlie nodded. “I have others. I just thought—” He let out a breath and put his hands in his pockets. “I thought, since you didn’t know my mama, you might like to have something she loved here in the house with you.”
Marjorie swallowed another lump of emotion. “Thank you. I will keep this on my bureau so I can look at it often. But this isn’t the only thing in the house that she loved. You, Lilly, Petey, Laura and your papa are all examples of things she loved dearly.”
Charlie lifted his gaze and his expression softened. Without a word, he turned and left Marjorie alone.
She stood in her doorway for a moment and fingered the delicate rosebud. It might have been plucked from life too early, but its beauty would live on—just as Anna Orton would do in her family.
John sat in his home office and pulled a fresh sheet of paper out of his desk drawer. Now that he had secured a governess—even a temporary one—he could turn his attention to the next order of business on his to-do list: find a wife.
He numbered the page from one to ten. Before he started his search, he would have a clear idea of what he was looking for. He was a man who liked to plan every aspect of his life and this important list would be the backbone for his quest.
John put his pen to the page and wrote in bold letters the first thing that came to his mind: practical.
His second wife would be practical, just as Anna had been. He pulled her portrait out of his desk and studied it, recalling all the things he loved about her. Anna’s attributes would fill numerous pieces of paper.
But how many attributes could she have written about him? Wasn’t the picture in his hands proof of his many flaws?
She had asked him for a family portrait after Laura was born, but he had kept putting it off, telling her he was too busy. The last picture he had of his wife, besides their wedding photo, was this one, taken just before they were married eleven years ago.
John traced the photo with his fingertip. She had looked so young and vibrant before the cares of his medical practice and motherhood had wrinkled the edges of her eyes and created a few white hairs along her temples. Oh, how she had fussed about those hairs. But they had been a reminder to him of all her hard work and the life they were creating together. Though she had aged, she had only grown more beautiful to him.
He just wished he had taken the time for a family photo. The children did not have a picture with their mother, and he did not have a final image of how she looked just before she was called to heaven.
It was a harsh reminder of how he had failed his wife. He should have been home more—especially when she was sick—but he had been out of town attending a patient when Anna died.
A knock at the office door captured his attention and he gladly put the photo back in his desk drawer. “Yes?”
“Dinner is served,” Mrs. Gohl said. “The children and Miss Maren are seated.”
John put aside his list for now and pushed himself up from his desk chair with a heavy sigh.
Miss Maren was not what he had planned. But it appeared he was stuck with her—at least for the next two months.
John stepped out of his office and found Mrs. Gohl waiting for him.
“Dr. McCall phoned and said they had half a dozen new cases of influenza arrive at the hospital since last night.” Mrs. Gohl wrung her work-worn hands together. Though the wave of illnesses had subsided from the initial impact that had arrived at the beginning of October—and taken Anna’s life—there were still more cases reported every day. “He asked if you could go to the hospital after supper to consult with him.”
It would be another long night. He would have to put off his list making until he returned home. Maybe tomorrow at church he could start the search. He really had no idea what his prospects were, since he had not considered another woman since he had laid eyes on Anna for the first time.
John nodded his thanks to Mrs. Gohl and then walked through the front hall to the dining room.
Miss Maren sat at Anna’s regular spot.
John paused in the doorway, his stunned gaze riveted on her. “What are you wearing, Miss Maren?”
The governess held Laura on her lap and moved the baby aside to look down at her luxurious dress. She glanced back at John, innocence in her gaze. “It’s just a simple evening gown.”
The dress in question was definitely not simple. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too fancy for a quiet family meal?”
Lilly hid a giggle behind her hand, and Charlie opened his mouth to comment—but John silenced both of them with a look.
“It’s all I have,” said Miss Maren.
“You have nothing less...ostentatious?” Or attractive?
She shook her head. Laura reached for the silverware, and Miss Maren gently pulled her hand away. “This is what I wore for meals at home.”
He cleared his throat, trying to avert his eyes from the beautiful woman seated at his table. “Meals in this home are much less formal.” He took his seat and Petey jumped off his chair and ran around the table. John lifted the boy into his arms while he addressed Miss Maren. “I must ask you to put on something more...suitable.”
Miss Maren’s free hand slipped up to her neck and hovered over the exposed skin. “I only have one other evening gown—and it’s not much different.”
“She’s right,” Lilly said. “I saw her dresses.”
He ran his finger around his collar, suddenly feeling a bit awkward having this conversation. He tried
