been taken from him so young. Uncle Corbitt’s housekeeper had been a poor substitute. He didn’t intend to let that happen to these children.
Exactly two hours from the time he’d left the church, Simon led a parade of children to the front gate of Mrs. Pierce’s home. He was doing his best to keep up a cheerful facade, trying to paint this as an adventure, a temporary stopover on their journey to their new home, rather than a tragedy.
They’d just come from the sweet shop, which was located in the same space as a toy store, so the children had been chattering happily when they set out. But now they had quieted, and he sensed nervousness and some anxiety in the group.
Understandable. He’d tried to give them a hopeful report on Miss Fredrick’s condition, but he hadn’t wanted to lie, so he was sure the older ones, at least, had read between the lines. And now they were approaching a strange place, owned by a person they’d never met, to reside there for an unspecified amount of time. It would be a nerve-racking situation for many adults to walk into—how much more so for children?
“It’s a castle.” Molly’s eyes were wide as she stared at Mrs. Pierce’s home. “Just like in a fairy tale. Does a queen live here?”
Simon smiled down at her. “Not a queen, but a couple of very nice ladies.”
Molly stuck her thumb back in her mouth, appearing unconvinced.
With a mental sigh, Simon climbed the wide stone steps onto the porch and twisted the ornate brass doorbell. The ring echoed from inside the house. Then the silence stretched out for what seemed forever. Behind him the children shuffled restlessly. And he had a sudden stab of fear that Mrs. Pierce might have changed her mind. After all, it had been obvious she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of housing them.
He was just contemplating whether or not to give the bell another twist, when the door finally opened.
Simon was almost embarrassed by the wave of relief that flooded through him. He hoped he did a good job of hiding it. Then he saw who’d opened the door and had to hide his reaction all over again.
Why was Mrs. Pierce answering her own door? Didn’t she have a housekeeper? Surely the elegant widow didn’t care for this huge house herself? Perhaps her servant was otherwise occupied at the moment.
Mrs. Pierce stepped aside to let them enter. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting. Miss Jacobs and I were just finishing preparing the rooms for you.”
Again, no mention of a servant. It was beginning to look as if there truly were no servants after all. If that was true, then he was doubly in her debt for agreeing to take them in. And it made him rethink a few things about her, as well.
As he ushered his charges inside, Miss Jacobs bustled down the hall toward them. “Hello, Mr. Tucker. And here are the children. Welcome, welcome. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you ever since I heard you were coming.”
Simon wondered how two such different women could get along under the same roof. Miss Jacobs seemed as approachable as Mrs. Pierce was aloof.
As the last of the children entered, he stepped forward to make the introductions. “Kids, this is Mrs. Pierce, the nice lady who has opened her home to us. And this is her friend, Miss Jacobs, who also lives here.”
They all nodded and there were a few mumbled hellos. Simon quickly went down the line, introducing the children one by one.
When he was done, Mrs. Pierce gave them a reserved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you all. Welcome to my home.”
“Are you a queen?” Molly asked.
To give her credit, their hostess didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “No, I’m not,” was her only response.
Joey, apparently emboldened by Molly’s question, turned to Miss Jacobs. “Why are you so short?” he asked.
“Joey!” Simon was caught off guard by the boy’s artlessly uttered and much-too-personal question. Would Miss Jacobs be insulted?
But the woman merely smiled at the young boy. “I reckon God made me this way because He knew how much I love being around young’uns. It makes me feel closer to kids than to grown-ups.”
Miss Jacobs shifted her gaze to include all the children in her next comment. “And I’d be right grateful if you children would call me Nana Dovie while you’re here. It’s what my own daughter calls me.”
Yep, these were definitely two very different women.
Joey wasn’t done with his questions, though. He turned to Mrs. Pierce. “Do you have a dog?”
This time the widow frowned slightly. “I do not.” There was definitely a tone of “and I don’t want one” in her voice. And there was also no offer to let the kids call her by an endearing name.
“When we get to Hatcherville,” the boy said proudly, “Gee-Gee says I can get a dog.”
“Gee-Gee?” Mrs. Pierce cast him a questioning glance.
“It’s what the children call Miss Fredrick,” Simon explained. “Her first name is Georgina.”
Mrs. Pierce nodded, then turned to Joey. “I’m sure that will be very nice.” Then she turned back to Simon. “The rooms are ready for you and your charges. I hope the children won’t mind doubling up.”
“They’re used to sharing,” Simon assured her. “Their former home wasn’t nearly as grand as this one and they had much tighter sleeping arrangements.” He’d seen their bedrooms, crowded with bunk beds like a cramped dormitory. It was one of the reasons Miss Fredrick planned this move. “Do you have a specific way you’d like to assign the rooms or are you leaving it up to us?”
“I have put you and the boys in three rooms on the third floor,” the widow responded. “The girls will be in three rooms on the second floor with me and Miss Jacobs.”
He nodded. “An excellent arrangement. If you’ll show us the way, we’ll get everyone settled in.” He paused. “By the way, I asked the young man over at the train depot to have our bags delivered here so they should be arriving soon.” Most of the kids’ belongings, along with all the household items, had been sent on ahead to Hatcherville, but luckily Miss Fredrick had seen that they each had a change of clothing packed for the trip. At least clothing wouldn’t be a problem for the next few days.
He wished the same were true about everything else to do with this setback.
* * *
Eileen led the way up the stairs, trying her best to remain composed. Seeing all those children up close was more than a little overwhelming. The questions the two youngest had asked had bordered on impertinence. They were little more than toddlers, of course, but her mother and instructors had always insisted one was never too young to learn good manners.
She certainly hoped Mr. Tucker had told the truth when he said they were well behaved. Of course, the conditional that he’d tagged on about their age hadn’t inspired her with much confidence.
These visitors seemed impressed with her
