The Dawn of a Dream (32 page)

Read The Dawn of a Dream Online

Authors: Ann Shorey

“Brendan.”

33

Brendan looked as stunned as Luellen felt. Red crept up his neck as the others in the room stared at him. He pasted an artificial-looking smile on his face. “I never expected to see you here. You’re looking well.”

Luellen ignored him and turned to Mrs. Hawks. “I’ll clean this up right away.” Her hands shook. Brendan O’Connell was one of the new boarders? Please, no.

Understanding filled the landlady’s eyes. “No need. Why don’t you work up more biscuits while I sweep the floor?”

After pushing broken shards of pottery aside with her foot, Luellen fled to the kitchen. David toddled over to her and grabbed her knees. Her first instinct was to run to Leah’s and keep him there until Brendan left. She drew a breath. No. With David’s dark hair and eyes, no one would ever suspect that the ruddy, blue-eyed man in the dining room was his father, least of all Brendan himself. David was hers, and hers he would stay.

Mrs. Hawks slipped into the room. “Is that him?” She nodded toward the closed door.

“Yes.” Perspiration prickled under her arms. “How long is he going to be here?”

“I don’t know—he’s part of the railroad crew.” She moved to the stove and took a waiting pan of biscuits from the warming oven. “You certainly baked these quickly,” she said with a wink.

“I made two pans full.” In spite of her jumping nerves, Luellen managed a smile. “As you well know.”

Late that evening, she sat at the kitchen table attempting to write a lesson plan for the next day. She’d advised Miss Clark to keep blinders on to avoid distractions. Now blinders weren’t helping her at all. What would she do if Brendan stayed at the boardinghouse for the weeks remaining until commencement? Could she really block him out of her thoughts? How could she keep him from learning about David?

She rested her forehead in her hands.
Lord, please help me.

“Luellen?”

She swung around.

Brendan stood in the doorway. “May I come in?”

“You’re fine right there. What do you want?”

“I want to tell you I’m sorry for what happened.” Blue eyes shone from his smooth face. “The last thing I expected was to see you here, sure. But it’s providential, I’m thinking.” He took a step into the room.

He hadn’t lost any of his charm. The scene reminded her of the times he spent with her in the kitchen at Bryant House—before she knew he had a wife.

She stood, gripping the back of her chair. “And how is Mrs. O’Connell? Shouldn’t you be at her side in Chicago?”

Brendan ran his fingers through his thick curls. “That’s over and done with. Her father . . .” He cleared his throat. “It was a mistake from beginning to end.”

“You were the mistake, for both of us. Now go away and leave me alone.” Luellen kept one ear tuned to the bedroom, praying David wouldn’t wake at the sound of their voices.

“Can’t say I blame you.” Brendan’s eyes moistened. “Good night, then.”

The next day after classes, Luellen sat in Leah’s kitchen holding a cup of tea. “I really should go home and start supper, but I can’t think how to avoid him.”

“He’s your baby’s father. Maybe you should tell him. Railroads pay good—he could help so you don’t have to work so hard.”

“He lied to me in the worst way possible. I don’t want him in our lives.” She shuddered. “Just the thought of him makes me ill.”

“I’d give anything if Frannie’s father came here and said he was sorry.” Leah clutched her cup. “All I’m saying is give him a chance. People change.”

At suppertime, Luellen spooned mutton and rice into a tureen while she considered Leah’s advice. Had Brendan changed? After slicing a loaf of bread, she filled a dish with apple jelly and set it beside the hot food. Changed or not, she wasn’t ready to see him again.

“Looks tasty,” Mrs. Hawks said. “You stay out here, I’ll serve.”

“Thank you.”

The landlady patted Luellen’s shoulder. “Once upon a time, there was a Mr. Hawks. Lucky for him, he never came back.” She pushed the swinging door with her elbow and carried the tureen to the diners.

Once Mrs. Hawks had supper on the table, she hung her apron on a hook near the door. “Are you sure you don’t mind cleaning up? I promised Alma I’d be there as early as I could for Frederick’s birthday celebration.”

“Go and enjoy yourself. Once I hear the boarders leave, I’ll clear the dishes.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you after the term ends.”

“Maybe I’ll stay here.” Luellen smiled, but the remark reminded her she’d forgotten to ask about a permanent arrangement if she got the position at the Model School.

While the boarders ate, Luellen held David on her knee and fed him spoonfuls of mashed rice and carrots. The murmur of conversation from the next room rose and fell and eventually she heard chairs scraping across the wooden floor. Heavy boots clumped up the stairs.

Luellen wiped David’s face and set him on his blanket. “Here’s your doggie.” She tickled his nose with a soft, rag-stuffed toy. He chuckled, grabbing at his favorite plaything.

“Well, who’s this?”

Luellen jumped. She hadn’t heard the door swing open.

Brendan stood looking at her, a quizzical expression on his face. Part of her mind noted his clean shirt and the comb lines drawn through his curls.

She stood, concealing David behind her skirt. “Boarders aren’t allowed in the kitchen.”

“We’re not to help ourselves to food, but I’m thinking we can talk to each other.” He turned his head toward her side. “That lad yours?”

The pounding of her heart threatened to choke her. Under her apron, she dug her nails into her palms. “Yes, he is.”

Brendan slid a chair out from the table. “Well, now. You’ve been busy since we parted.”

Luellen exhaled with a whoosh. “You might say that.”
Let him think what he will.

“Where’s the mister?”

“I don’t have a husband.”

“I’ve got to give you credit for more gumption than I thought you had. Woman alone with a baby. Can’t be easy.” His Irish lilt polished his words.

“Life isn’t easy.”

“’Tis true.” Brendan leaned back. “Mind if I stay here, have a chat? A boardinghouse is a lonely place.”

The sound of his voice beguiled her, as it had in the beginning. “I need to clear the table and wash up.”

“I won’t be in your way.”

What harm could it do? “All right then.” She propped the swinging door open and carried plates into the kitchen.

Brendan’s voice followed her as she moved back and forth, telling her of his job with the railroad. “One of these days, I’d like to operate a lodging house like this one. Follow the rails west. If I’m lucky, I’ll find someone who can cook like you do. We’d be a team.”

Luellen splashed water over the dishes in the basin. His voice went on, spinning his dreams. She closed her eyes, remembering the early days of their courtship and marriage. Listening to him ignited a spark she’d thought to be dead.

When the last pot had been dried and hung on the rack, Brendan rose. “Thank you for your company. D’you mind if I come back again?” His broad hands rested on the back of a chair.

“I have studies.” At the disappointment in his eyes, she relented. “But for a while after supper, a visit would be fine.”

“Good night, then. See you tomorrow.”

After he left, she gathered a sleepy David in her arms and carried him into their room. “What am I doing?” she whispered. “Heaven help me, I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening.”

Luellen sat at the rear of the Model School classroom while Miss Clark led the children through their reading assignment. She scanned over the subtraction test she’d prepared, her thoughts occupied with Brendan rather than numbers. Could she trust his friendship? Three weeks had passed since he appeared at the boardinghouse. If he hadn’t changed, surely some trace of the old Brendan would have popped up by now.

The latch clicked open and a young man stepped into the foyer, a leather pouch slung over one shoulder. At the disturbance, the children swiveled in their seats, reading lesson forgotten.

“I’m looking for a Miss McGarvie.”

Luellen stood. “I’m Miss McGarvie. How may I assist you?”

He thrust a yellow sheet of paper at her. “Telegram.”

“Thank you.” There must be a mistake. Who would send her a telegram?

As soon as the messenger left, she ripped the envelope open.

Come home at once stop Papa dangerously ill stop

Mama

Alma hastened toward her. “You look like you’re going to faint. Sit down.”

Luellen slumped in the chair and handed her the message.

“Oh mercy. Your father.” Alma turned back to the class. “Go on with the lesson, Miss Clark. I’ll be with you in a few moments.” She slid a hand under Luellen’s arm and guided her toward the door. “There’s a train south tomorrow. You must go. I’ll talk to Dr. Alexander for you.”

“Thank you, but I want to tell him myself. After all the times he helped me, I owe him that much.”

Their eyes met, understanding passing between them. If Luellen went home now, she would lose her chance at a teaching certificate.

The loss didn’t matter. She pictured Papa—laughing, carrying her on his shoulders when she was small, his wise counsel through her maturing years, and most of all, his support after Brendan left. She’d be on that train.

She gathered her portfolio and cloak and dashed across the street to Allenwood Hall.

Mr. Price sat with his head bent over a ledger. Luellen cleared her throat. He looked up, feigning surprise. “What brings you here in the middle of the morning?”

“I need to speak with Dr. Alexander immediately, please.”

“I’m sorry. Unfortunately he’s away at a trustees’ meeting.” The expression on his face was anything but regretful. “I’ll be happy to give him a message.”

“When do you expect him to return?”

“Wednesday or Thursday.”

Luellen fought tears of frustration. By Wednesday, she’d be back in Beldon Grove. Of all times for Dr. Alexander to be gone, why did it have to be now? She drew a deep breath.

“Please tell him that I’ve been called home. My father is gravely ill.” Her voice shook. “Be sure to thank him for all the help he extended to me.”

Mr. Price gaped at her. “You’re withdrawing? Commencement is next month.”

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