The Brides of Chance Collection (39 page)

The sheriff nodded. He gave him directions to the street. “Can’t miss it. It’s the big brick house—covers most of the block.”

Alisa guided Raven down the familiar streets of San Francisco. She’d waited until the morning after Titus left before borrowing Raven and heading west toward the city. He’d know where she was going, but by the time he got back to the Meyers’ and back to San Francisco, it would be too late for him to stop her from turning herself in. She had had time to reflect while she rode the few hours alone. A curious sense of peace enveloped her, a reassurance inside that all was well. That God would forever remain on His throne in her heart regardless of the struggles she might have to endure.

She refused to allow herself to think of the possibility that she might go free, refused to hope for the best. Time had taught her that. Time and one disappointment after another. Mr. and Mrs. Perryman had been kind guardians, but they never pretended they were mother and father. They had a calling to place children with good Christian parents. Their love was evident, but even so, they couldn’t shield any of their young charges from the cruelty of other children or the pain of being rejected by possible parents. Over and over again—more times than Alisa could, or cared to, remember. But all in all, Alisa had been happy, especially during her later years at the orphanage when she finally understood that she wouldn’t be adopted and she might as well throw herself into making life a little sweeter for the younger children.

Alisa pulled Raven to a stop in front of the orphanage. Before she did anything else, she needed to see her little family. To tell Mrs. Perryman all about Titus. To tell them all good-bye just in case she was locked up for a long, long time. The front gate groaned as she opened it and groaned again when she shut it behind her. Her heart nearly broke at the sight of the sagging porch, the house that had been her home in such need of repair and painting. She knocked and waited. And waited. Then tried the knob. Locked? The orphanage doors were never locked. Not even at night. Worry flashed through her. Had the orphanage been closed down? Where were Mrs. Perryman and the children?

“You looking to adopt?”

Alisa turned to find Miss Smithers, the woman who occupied the home next door.

“No. I’m—”

“Why, Alisa! I recognize you.”

“Hello, Miss Smithers.” She walked down the steps and met the elderly woman at the gate. “Where are Mrs. Perryman and the children?”

“Gone. The roof at the back of the house finally caved in.”

“Oh my.” She hadn’t noticed the roof from her view.

“It was a blessing in disguise if you ask me. Those children are better off now.”

“What do you mean?” Alisa asked, gently touching the woman’s arm to bring her back to focus.

“Don’t you know?” She smiled broadly. “They’re staying at the Worthington house. Can you imagine those orphans running around that big place?”

Chapter 17

A
lisa rode Raven as fast as she could all the way across town until she reached the Worthington home. She stared at the massive brick structure and shuddered at the memories it conjured. Tears stung her eyes as she realized that Mrs. Worthington’s beautiful smile wouldn’t greet her when she entered the ornate foyer.

She climbed the steps, her heart beating wildly in her ears. Grabbing the brass knocker, she hesitated. An image of Mr. Worthington’s face, red with fury, passed through her mind. Would he order her from the house? Her hands trembled as she slowly lifted the ring and brought it down, then lifted it again and knocked once more.

Marietta, Mrs. Worthington’s longtime housekeeper, opened the door. Her face split into a smile. “Alisa! You’ve come home.” Stepping aside, she allowed Alisa to enter the familiar home, the home her grandmother had left to her, though Alisa knew it would never be hers.

“How have you been, Marietta?” she asked, catching the woman into a quick embrace.

“Lonely.” The simple word brought tears to Alisa’s eyes. She reached for the older woman’s hand.

“I know what you mean. This house seems much bigger without her, doesn’t it?”

Before she could answer, a crash sounded from the parlor just beyond the foyer.

“Look what you did,” a child’s voice cried. “We’re going to get thrown out of here now.”

Marietta huffed. “I’m much too old to run after children.”

Alisa followed her toward the parlor. “Why are they here?”

“Young Robert has taken a liking to them, I suppose.” She scowled and opened the parlor door. A vase—one that looked expensive—lay in pieces on the floor. Sarah and Sammy Baker, six-year-old twins who had come to the orphanage two years earlier after both parents succumbed to influenza, trembled before Marietta. “We’re sorry,” Sarah whispered. “It was an accident.”

Sammy’s gaze darted away from Marietta’s stern face, and his brown eyes widened, then a smile pushed his chubby cheeks out even farther. “Alisa! You’ve come back. We live here now.”

Alisa returned his tight hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

What did he mean, they lived here now? She turned her questioning gaze on Marietta. The housekeeper clapped her hands together and gave the children a stern frown. “Run along and find the broom and clean up this mess. It’s a mighty good thing for you the ugly vase was already cracked.” Alisa hid her smile as the contrite children slid by. Sammy looked back at her before heading out of the room. “You still going to be here when we get back?”

She nodded. “I’ll be here.”

When the children had gone, Marietta shook her head. “Those two get into more trouble….”

“How long have they been living here, Marietta?”

“Since Christmas Day.”

“Christmas?”

She knelt and began picking up the big pieces of the vase. “Mr. Worthington was invited to the orphanage for Christmas dinner, seeing as how he donated a sizable amount of money for the children’s Christmas.”

“He did?”

She sat back on her heels. “Wouldn’t have thought it of him, would you?”

Too stunned to speak, Alisa shook her head.

“Anyway, while they were enjoying a Christmas goose—”

“A goose?” Oh, God was so good. Every year since she was a child, Alisa remembered Mrs. Perryman’s lament over the lack of a Christmas goose.

“Goose. Anyway, the way the children tell it, they were just finishing up their dinner when all of a sudden the roof gave way under the weight of all that rainwater. It flooded the kitchen and ruined the pies.”

“And Mr. Worthington brought them here?” It was a little hard not to question his motives, given their last encounter.

“That’s right. Packed up the lot of them and tucked them into bed upstairs.”

The place certainly was large enough. She could imagine the thrill the children must be feeling to have gone from a dilapidated old home to this mansion. When she’d come to be Mrs. Worthington’s companion, Alisa had felt as though she was living in a palace. She frowned. But just as in her situation, this arrangement wouldn’t last. The children would be on the streets if Mrs. Perryman couldn’t fix the roof. And how could she? She could barely feed the children, which was why the house was in such desperate need of repair in the first place.

“Alisa!”

Alisa turned toward the door at the sound of Mrs. Perryman’s voice. She rushed toward the only mother she’d ever known and ran into her arms. Mrs. Perryman’s voice shook with tears. “It’s true. You really are here.”

“Yes. But I don’t understand all of this. Marietta explained why you’re here. But how…”

“I invited them, of course.”

Alisa gasped and took an instinctive step back as Mr. Worthington strode into the room. “And I hope they’ll stay as long as necessary.”

Mrs. Perryman fingered her collar and averted her gaze to the Turkish rug on the floor. Her cheeks grew pink as Mr. Worthington came to stand beside her. Alisa’s eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion. “What are you playing at, sir?” she asked, indignation beginning to build within her.

“I’m not playing at anything. I’m merely offering this good woman and the children in her care a home since theirs is unlivable.” He frowned. “I would have thought this would make you happy.”

“It would…I mean it does.” Alisa looked from her father to Mrs. Perryman. “May I speak to you in private, Mr. Worthington?”

“Of course.” He turned to Mrs. Perryman. “Please excuse us for a few moments. My daughter and I have some things to discuss.”

Alisa’s throat tightened, and she felt suspiciously close to tears at his words. If only this scoundrel really meant what he said. She followed in silence as he led her to his office. “Please have a seat,” he offered, motioning toward a pair of brown leather chairs.

“Thank you,” she replied stiffly. To her surprise, he took the other chair rather than walking around the desk and sitting as she’d seen him do many times with guests and business associates.

“You’re all right?” he asked. Was that guilt hiding in his eyes?

She sniffed. “If by your inquiry you mean did Bart and Amos harm me, no, they did not—no thanks to you.”

That was most definitely relief washing across his face. What was he playing at?

“I understand Amos is dead and Bart has been placed in jail?”

Alisa frowned. “That’s right. How did you know that?”

“Your young man came to see me yesterday.”

“My young…Titus was here?”

“Yes, and he seems to be under the impression that you’re safely tucked away at a farmhouse between here and his ranch.” He peered at her closely. “Why have you come back?”

“To turn myself in.”

His eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “For something you didn’t do?”

“I hope to plead my case to the authorities. Perhaps the judge will be lenient.” Moisture formed in his eyes, and his shoulders slumped as he leaned forward and reached for her hands.

Alisa shrank back.

“Don’t be frightened,” he said.

At the soft, almost defeated tone, Alisa allowed him to take her hands in both of his. “What’s come over you, Mr. Worthington? I don’t understand.”

“I know. Bear with me for a few minutes, and I’ll explain.”

Alisa nodded, praying that God would give her wisdom to know the truth.

“When Mother announced she was giving you the house and the money already accrued from the shipping company, I was furious. Shocked. Betrayed.”

“But Mr. Worthington, I never—”

He nodded. “I know. You didn’t even know that you’re my daughter.”

Hearing him say the words sent a jolt through her. She stared at him and for the first time saw the truth. This man was her father; his blood flowed through her veins. They had the same nose that turned up slightly at the end, the same brown eyes, and the same creases in their cheeks that hinted at dimples when they smiled. Which he did at that moment.

“It’s a little overwhelming when it comes to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Over the past few months, my life without my mother has been lonely, and I realized that I would gladly give up everything, including the shipping company, to have her back.” He gave a short laugh. “She would love to hear that. Mother always believed I had great potential, but I never believed I could make it without the allowance she bestowed upon me each month.

“But as lonely as I’ve been, I started thinking what it must have been like to grow up without either a mother or a father.”

“I had Mrs. Perryman.”

His expression softened. “I have high regard for Mrs. Perryman. She’s a rare jewel indeed.”

A rare jewel? Alisa peered closer. Was her father falling in love with Mrs. Perryman? She captured her bottom lip between her teeth in order to stave off a smile.

He smiled, obviously reading her amusement. “As I said, she’s a remarkable woman.”

“What about Bart and Amos?”

“They came to me after reading the poster. At the time, I still hadn’t come to grips with everything, and against my better judgment, I gave them the okay to find you.”

“You instructed them not to harm me.”

“You’re my daughter. I couldn’t bear the thought.”

“Why were you looking for me?”

He heaved a sigh. “At first, of course, I wanted you to sign away your rights to the house and money.”

“I never wanted—”

Again he silenced her. “I know you didn’t ask for anything. But Mother loved you. I wish the two of you could have established a familial relationship. Even so, she had grown to know you over the months you worked for us while she was making arrangements for your future. It was her desire to give you the house and the money. And in doing so, she did me a great favor.”

“A favor?”

“I’m learning the shipping company. Even gave Jonesy a job there in the office running errands and learning the books.”

“What a wonderful position for Jonesy! He’s so good with numbers.”

Her father nodded, and Alisa felt warm all over. “I discovered that pretty early on. He has a head for sales, too. I expect he’ll move up and be a successful man himself someday.”

The pride reflected in her father’s face piqued her curiosity. He answered her question before she asked. “I’d like to know how you would feel if I were to adopt Jonesy. Give him my name—our name—and ask him to join me in the business.”