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Authors: Janet Lee Barton

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BOOK: A Home for Her Heart
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“Yes
.
There’s another reason why I didn’t want to go by my real name. I don’t think it’s anything I need to tell everyone, and I might not be telling you except you brought up the subject, and well, there’s really no reason you shouldn’t know.”

“Please, go on.” He might not trust all women, but he felt he had to know why Elizabeth felt she couldn’t trust any man.

“I was engaged once. With a man Papa thought was just right for me. But the night of our engagement party, I found out that he was only interested in my money and was really in love with another woman. And even though I decided then and there that I could never trust another man—I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of thing again. Men like that seem to come out of the woodwork at the hint of a woman with money of her own.”

He’d like to get ahold of that man who’d hurt her so badly and caused her to believe she couldn’t trust ever again. No wonder she’d had no callers. She hadn’t wanted any. “I am sorry that you had to deal with all of that, Elizabeth. I’m sorry those kind of men are out there. But surely you know we’re not all like that.”

“I do know that. I just don’t know how I can tell if a man might find out who I am and try to present himself as something he’s not. Someone who cares only for me and not my money or who will profess he never knew—” She broke off and shook her head. “But you can see why I’m not excited about meeting another of Papa’s choices.”

“I can.” He did, and it made him breathe a sigh of relief at the thought of her spending time at her aunt’s. The man would have to be very special to get past her mistrust. “What about me and Ben and the other men from Heaton House? Do you trust us at all?”

She laughed. “Of course I do. But none of you have set your cap for me, so I have no reason not to.”

He wanted to ask how she would feel if he told her he
was
interested in her, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer. “I do understand, in a way. I set my cap for a young woman several years back. She was the daughter of my boss and was wealthy, although I was brash enough to think that one day I would be able to make enough money to take care of her. Her father even seemed to like me. Then some young reporter came to town and swept her off her feet.”

He let out a deep breath. She might as well know it all. “I caught him kissing her and pulled him off her. I thought he was taking advantage. Turned out he wasn’t and she blamed the fight on me. Her father fired me and...” He shrugged. “With no good character reference coming from him, I came here and started from scratch.”

“Oh, John. I’m so sorry—”

“She was just playing with me and probably him, too, until someone who could take care of her in the manner she was accustomed to came along. But I decided then and there never to fall for another woman—especially a wealthy one.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

“Thank you for opening up to me. I know it must not have been easy.”

He smiled down at her. “I knew you’d understand. I figured if you could open up to me, I could do the same. Think we’ll ever learn to trust again?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “That is the question, isn’t it? We can only hope so.”

Hope filled his heart. If they could, was it possible that he and Elizabeth could ever be more than friends?

Chapter Seventeen

J
ohn finally came to his senses two days later. Who was he kidding about he and Elizabeth becoming more than friends? He had only his heart to offer her. And he didn’t think that would be enough for any woman, much less one like her. He’d gotten carried away over the past week, letting his dreams interfere with reality. He’d always felt Elizabeth was out of his reach and he’d been right.

He’d promised her they’d remain friends, but could he keep to that when he truly wanted much more? Could he stay at Heaton House, seeing her every day? And what if she did decide to trust again? What if she even decided she could during the coming weekend? What if the man her father wanted her to meet was just right for her? The very thought of it sickened him.

But even if Elizabeth didn’t find her father’s choice appealing, it wouldn’t matter if John ever told her how he felt. How could she trust that he wasn’t after her money like her fiancé had been?

John didn’t care about her money. He knew that to be true because his feelings for Elizabeth had begun growing when he thought she was just like the rest of them—working to get by, to make a good life for herself. He wished a million times he’d told her how much he’d begun to care about her before she’d revealed she was wealthy. But would she have believed him, or thought he’d found out and been keeping quiet about it?

He expelled a huge sigh. None of that really mattered because, even if the impossible happened and she cared about him, her father would never agree to let her marry him. Not a mere reporter.

He had to stop all these thoughts. It was getting him nowhere. He had a job to do and that had to be his first priority now. His goal was to find out who owned those buildings and get something done about them. He needed to distance himself from Elizabeth.

He hurried up to breakfast, hoping to be gone before Elizabeth came downstairs. He didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to—

“Good morning, John.”

She was at the table with a few others, looking fresh and ready for the day. Obviously, she hadn’t tossed and turned as he had. “Good morning. You’re down early.”

“I woke up early.”

“Mmm, so did I.” He filled his plate at the sideboard and told himself he’d have to get used to being around her without giving his feelings away.

“Must have been the nice weekend we all had,” Kathleen said. “I woke early this morning, too.”

John wasn’t sure he’d even slept but he wasn’t about to say so. “Mmm,” he said, noncommittally. He took his seat beside Elizabeth and put all his attention on his meal.

“You seem a bit out of sorts this morning, John,” Ben said from across the table.

“Perhaps he just didn’t sleep well,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m fine. Sorry, I’ve been thinking about all I need to do this week. If I’m not here for dinner, Mrs. Heaton, please don’t worry.”

“I won’t. But I will have Gretchen save you a plate.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Are you going to city hall today?” Elizabeth asked.

“I am. I’m determined to find out who owns those buildings we’ve been looking into.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Thank you, but not really. It’s just tedious work, but it will be worth it in the end. I’ll let you know what I find out though. Don’t worry about that.” He knew he sounded curt. He would love nothing more than for her to go with him, but that would only compound his problem where Elizabeth was concerned.

“I wasn’t worried. I know you’ll keep me up-to-date.”

But she sounded hurt and that was the last thing John had intended to do. “I’ll be glad to. We’re in this together, remember?”

She smiled then and his heart slammed against his chest as he wondered how he was going to manage to distance himself enough in the next week to be able to resume working with Elizabeth on these investigations and also keep his promise that they would always be friends.

“I do remember.”

Only friends. He’d do well to keep reminding himself of that fact in the coming days. John finished his breakfast, barely chewing each bite, then pushed back from the table. “I’d better get to work so I have something to share. Have a good day, everyone.”

With that he hurried out of the dining room and grabbed his hat from the rack in the foyer. It was going to be a very long week.

* * *

Something was wrong. John wasn’t himself at all. Was he having second thoughts about all she’d told him? Maybe he’d changed his mind about staying friends. Elizabeth’s heart twisted at the very thought. It was going to be difficult enough to keep from caring more for him than she already did, much less think about losing his friendship.

But perhaps it was better that he’d be working late this week. It’d give her time to accept the fact that he didn’t trust women any more than she trusted men and to concentrate on the fact that while they were friends, there was very little hope for anything else.

Even if something had seemed to be changing between them these past few weeks. Had it only been that their friendship was growing or was there more? She didn’t really know how John felt—and she might never know. But she couldn’t deny that she’d begun to feel more for him.

She hurried upstairs and pinned her hat in place, then grabbed her purse and hurried back down and out the door. At least she’d have something to do to keep her thoughts off John—and her father’s impending visit—over the next few days. But as thoughts of how he seemed that morning came to mind, she had a feeling it didn’t matter what she did. Thoughts of John would always be with her.

She saw her trolley approaching the corner and hurried to meet it. Maybe he’d find out some information quicker than he thought and wouldn’t have to work late. But something in his manner made her believe that he wouldn’t be home early in any case. And she had to wonder why.

* * *

By Thursday, John hadn’t come up with any leads on who owned the buildings they’d been investigating and decided to stop by the three buildings again, hoping to find the managers and get some information from them. It seemed his bad luck would continue, until he returned to the first apartment building they’d visited, where they’d helped...Lacy...yes, that was her name, with her rent.

He knocked on the manager’s door, Brown was his name—if John remembered right. There was no answer and John decided to go up and see if Lacy knew if he was still the manager or if there’d been any changes. He knocked on her door and waited, but again, there was no answer.

John sighed. He was fed up with loose ends and he was very tired of staying away from Heaton House until well after dinner. All he really wanted to do was to get back to where he and Elizabeth were before she’d told him her full name and how wealthy she really was.

He could no longer deny that before she had, he’d begun to hope for something he’d thought never to hope for again. He knew there was no use wishing for the impossible, but knowing that didn’t stop him from thinking about Elizabeth. Didn’t stop him from missing her.

He headed back downstairs and that’s where he met up with Brown. The man was just coming out of his apartment. Had he been there when he knocked?

“What is it you’re doin’ back here?” Brown asked when he spotted John.

“I was looking for Lacy.”

“I thought you were good friends, seein’ as how you paid her rent.”

“Would I be looking for her if—”

“You’d be lookin’ for her somewhere else. You’d know she moved out before her rent was up again—if you were such good friends with her.” Brown took a step forward. “So tell me what it is you’re here for.”

“I want to know who owns this building.”

“What’s it to you?”

“He’s responsible for the shape it’s in. Either that or you are, and the city is real interested to know which one of you it is.”

“Why you... I see. You’re the one been writing those articles, aren’t you?”

“Which articles?”

“The ones tellin’ how bad a condition some of the buildin’s are in—just tryin’ to make trouble for us all. It’s you, isn’t it?” Brown began to walk toward him in a menacing manner.

John shrugged, trying to ignore the feeling of impending danger. “It might be. You have any answers for me?”

Before John could see it coming, the man’s right hook caught him in the eye, making him stagger backward. With his one good eye, he could see Brown getting ready to throw another fist at him.

John had never walked away from a fight and he didn’t intend to now. Head down, he bolted forward and caught the guy in the gut, knocking him down. But up Brown came and this time his fist crashed into the side of John’s cheek hard enough that he had to shake his head to clear it. At that point it became a real brawl and big as Brown was, only the fact that John was younger and in better shape saved him. When he left, Brown was alive and breathing. But he was moaning, crumpled up in a pile of trash, while a couple of rats scurried down the hall.

As John staggered out of the building, he could taste blood on a lip that was quickly swelling, and could only see out of one eye. He couldn’t go back to Heaton House like this so he did the only thing he could think of. He went to Mrs. Oliver’s building and up to her apartment where she graciously patched him up.

“Young man, you have to watch it in this neighborhood. There are people who don’t like the good you and your friends try to do.”

“I know. And I thank you for taking care of me. I hope that my coming here won’t bring you any trouble.”

Mrs. Oliver shook her head. “It won’t. Just you watch out for yourself, you hear?”

He kissed the older woman on the cheek when he left and his determination to help her and others living in those buildings grew stronger than ever.

He didn’t want to take a chance of anyone at Heaton House seeing him until he could check out the damage himself. And he needed someone to talk to about his investigation. He stopped at Michael and Violet’s place, hoping to get some advice.

“John, what happened to you, man?” Michael asked as Violet came up behind him and gasped.

“Just a run-in with an apartment manager. Don’t worry. He’s in worse shape than I am.”

Violet and her husband exchanged glances.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Michael said. “We’re just about to eat dinner. Come join us.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I should have known it was dinnertime for you—”

“John Talbot, you get in this house and have dinner with us,” Violet said from behind her husband. “We have plenty.”

“I—”

Michael grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “No excuses. Come on in. It’s good to see you, even if your face is changing colors by the minute.”

“Thank you, then, if you’re sure you have enough.”

John followed them into the dining room to find Rebecca and Jenny already at the table. Michael and Violet’s maid, Hilda, set another place for him and John quickly took the seat in front of it. The aroma from the roast waiting for Michael to carve assailed his nostrils and he needed no further prodding to join them.

Jenny looked at him from beside her mother, her eyes wide. “You got hit hard?” the child asked.

“I did.” John wondered if she’d seen many fights while living in the tenements.

“Does it hurt much?”

“A little bit.” More than that, but he didn’t need to make a child worry about him.

“I hope it’s better soon.”

“Thank you, Jenny. I’m sure it will be.”

“Let’s thank the Lord for our food and for John to get better, okay?” Michael said, smiling at his niece.

She nodded and after Michael said grace, he began to slice the roast beef while Hilda passed the side dishes around. Once everyone was served, Michael asked, “What brought you by this evening? Did your brawl give you any clues to who might own those buildings yet?”

John shook his head. “No. And that’s why I’m here. I thought it might be time to take you up on your offer to help. I keep running into dead ends.”

“I’ll be glad to. We can talk it over after dinner. Some of the ladies of Heaton House are gathering here to talk weddings again, and they’ll be upstairs half the night.”

That meant Elizabeth would be there. He’d missed her more than he thought possible this week, getting home after she’d gone upstairs each night. And he did want to see her before the next day. He wasn’t sure when she was going to her aunt’s, but he didn’t want her leaving before at least seeing her, getting to speak to her, even for a few minutes, even looking the way he did. Could it be that his last-minute decision to come here was the Lord’s plan? He hoped so.

“Now, Michael, it won’t take all that long,” Violet assured her husband.

“You say that now, but things seem to change when you ladies get to talking about weddings and babies.”

The smile the couple shared had John looking away and tamping down his longing for a relationship like they had.

“Aunt Vi is going to have a baby cousin for me,” Jenny said as if he didn’t know.

He centered his attention on the little girl and tried not to think of what-ifs. “She is? Just for you?”

“Uh-huh. And I’ll be its cousin, too. And Mama will be an aunt like Aunt Vi is.”

“I see. And I can tell you’re excited about it.”

“Uh-huh.” Jenny grinned at him. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” Violet said. “You are going to be such a wonderful help, Jenny.”

Jenny nodded her head and grinned. “Mama says I’m a big girl so I can do all kinds of things now.”

Talk soon turned to the renovations Mrs. Heaton wanted to make before Rebecca and Jenny moved in. It took them through the meal and dessert. Just as they were leaving the dining room, there was a knock on the door and Hilda answered it.

Kathleen and Elizabeth came in, with Luke bringing up the rear. John watched as Elizabeth noticed him for the first time. Her eyes widened in concern and she gasped. “John! What happened to you?”

He shrugged. “One of the building managers didn’t like the questions I asked him.”

“Well, I sure hope the other guy looks worse than you do,” Luke said. “I can see why you might not have wanted to go back to Heaton House.”

“I don’t even know how bad I look yet. I didn’t want—”

BOOK: A Home for Her Heart
3.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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